#at the same time. being dark? turning into dark? gets panels like that. dark looks so fuckign evil adjgasdgbasfkjkj

[dnangelic]

the nature of dark's existence is still technically, inherently, one of a curse. within the context of dnangel dark and krad are literally the product of a mistake, but metaphorically can exist as the punishment for the hikari and niwa family line's fatal 'sins' : the hikari for crossing forbidden lines, playing god and instilling life and magic into their artworks; the niwa for being thieves and interrupting the process and letting things go out of control while attempting to steal the kokuyoku. both dark and krad are entities that are described as hindering their host clan's prospering; dark is meant to obstruct by the transformation gene (more specifically, how uncontrollable it is since the hikari can transform too,) while krad shortens his host's lifespans down to practically nothing.

i joke about daisuke being a magical girl and like he totally does fall under the classification (iirc even asuka tags dnangel as a magical girl manga odhgsbdfkjf) but his burden is much heavier and. well. darker because what he's hiding isn't just an alter ego or like, cute cat features that pop out sometimes, instead an entirely conflicting-seeming 'self' that's regularly guilty of crime and extremely easy to reject or revile and accuse. smth smth 'why was i bound in chains in this cold and dismal place / not for any mortal sin but the wickedness of my own abhorrent face.' dark can look scary! he can totally look evil! he's flat out not human! and this is something that can get daisuke into serious trouble no matter dark's own attempts to protect daisuke within him; even a monster with a human heart can still end up being treated as a monster.

conflicting appearances aside, dark occupies the entirety of daisuke's life: he takes it, possesses it for himself and his own inherited intentions; daisuke isn't saving the world or fighting crime or villains, he is the crime, the infamous azumano troublemaker; was destined and raised for it thanks to dark and his ancestors, and this is an inescapable truth, part of the curse that has remained unbroken for 2000 yrs. dark's appearance or personality being one that's easy to completely villainize is just another aspect of the curse itself; i know that just about every satoshi develops a sense of bitterness, envy, or frustration over dark and daisuke's relationship for their getting along with each other better than the hikari's relationship with krad, and for daisuke, the curse truly is, in a way, 'broken' thanks to his being surrounded by so many people who support and accept him (his family, the other artworks,) but dark absolutely still has aspects of himself that serve to be more curselike than any sort of blessing, something to hide, something negatively and maliciously-twinged, in tandem with the way dark is also daisuke's aspiration and dream. as much as dark constantly supports and goads daisuke on, pushing daisuke's back and helping him to keep going -

he's still getting in the way, in his own subtle, manipulative ways sometimes.

[bokettochild]

Linked Universe Enterence p.3

Okay! So I have thoughts!!!!

First off, does anyone remember when JoJo shared those first snippets? How there was a fun little detail that suddenly disappeared when the comic actually became more than doodles?

Yeah, I'm talking about this guy

(Not the grouchy old man being offended, the owl LOL)

I know there's a chance I'm wrong, a big one at that, but I think it would be really cool if, if only for a short while, JoJo brought him back, even if it's just for this era of Hyrule. Let Time have his owl buddy!

Anyways, to the actual comic!

I noticed that the boys are all still together, so I'm guessing they're waiting until they come to a cross-roads to actually split up like Four advised last time. So we have that to look forwards to in the coming updates!

I love that she's really highlighting the similarities and differences in this arc, showing us who knows what and what they've done, but also the little things; both with owls and the antifairy!

I adore the Owlan reference/appearance!

And Time immediately agreeing about the "long, drawn out lectures part" made me laugh. (His expression, my Hylia!!!)

That is the face of a man who kept accidentally asking to "hear it again" and regrets it with every bone of his being LOL

It's good to see more call backs to the last comics too! Having Hyrule be wary of the statue because he remembers seeing it before, and Warriors agreeing, but also reminding that it didn't cause harm. The fact that Hyrule keeps his sword pointed at it though, wary, does say a lot about how cautious he's being all the same (Wild ought to take notes)

And of course this whole panel

Twilight's awkwardly trying to assure the rest without spilling the secret, Sky laughing and turning to look at Legend, and the fact that the vet is just so entirely done with even just the thought of being a rabbit. (I love his face, omgosh).

Te way I screamed "anti-fairy!" when I saw this, and then was so, so delighted that Legend and I had the same thought (I am unwell about this man).

I'm equally unwell about the fact that Legend just has to say "ouch" (which you only say at inconveniences and not real, actual hurts) and immediately everyone's turning, weapons out and ready to help him face...whatever. Like, he's fine, guys, but it's sweet you care (now Legend, please take note and realize you belong, you idiot)

Love that Time hears "fairy" and immediately is all ears. All the more so at the "anti" part. Man was raised by fairies and he absolutely doesn't like the idea of something that would hurt them.

Meanwhile Legend is just being freaking Haku (Spirited Away) over here!

Tell me you don't see it!!!!!!

Also, his casual use of magic to purify something, to just make it no longer a threat, rather than hurting it. That need to save EVERYONE is really showing through here, huh?

And immediately, everyone is shocked that he did that, but also what it means about fairies. About dark magic. But Time and Wars especially!

Gosh, just Legend's little worried face and Time's offense at the idea of fairies being corrupted and harmed. Shows a bit about them here too I think. Time is maybe slightly obsessed with fairies (reasonably so) and hates them being harmed, but he shows his worry on the matter in anger. legend, meanwhile, becomes more sombre, quieter: it bothers him too (maybe reminds him of a certain predecessor?)

Get this man a tiara, he's a freaking Disney Princess over here, good grief!!!! He's carrying fairy food on what? The slim chance he has time to stop and feed them? Honestly, i know he's probably as attached to fairies as Time (although with a healthier relationship with them), but this is just too cute. this man is going to be the death of me!!!

Anyways, here's the bonuses!!!!

SUN APPEARANCE!!!!!!!! We have a canon Sun appearance!!!!! Like, sure, sleepy student Sky, but it's SUN!!!!

This smile. Oh my gosh I adore him. He's just so glad he got to help the corrupted little one become normal again.

JoJo was having fun with Four I see LOL

Man really said "hang on, let me check my purse, I think I have snacks in here"

Freaking Mom Coded

[astaroth1357]

Flipping the Script: Leviathan Meet-Cute (Human World AU)

So what if you met the demon boys in the human world instead? You’re not magic. You’re not special. You’re an average little human that came crashing into some demons one day. Good luck!

Contents: Pretty new format for me, second person (you), forgive any wonkiness

Part One (You are here), Part Two, Part Three (Coming Soon...)

~♡♡♡~

You’re a hardcore otaku influencer with a niche in creating and sharing cosplay. You’ve befriended a lot of other enthusiasts pursuing your passions, but there was one guy that you met at a recent convention that stood out from all of the rest.

The Seven Lords was just having yet another milestone anniversary, so several friends in your circle all decided to get together and do a group cosplay for the fans, you all were even offered space for a panel and locations for meet-and-greets! Your whole fanbase was ecstatic, and so were you, but there was just one problem…

The friend that agreed to be your Third Lord backed out at the last minute! His baggage was totally lost on the flight there and suddenly your whole group was without a member to complete the set. Though you knew it wasn’t a huge deal, you hated to disappoint your fans who were looking for a full group photo-op…

But then you saw this guy waiting around your hotel lobby-

“I can't believe Wess had to cancel on us…!” You thought to yourself while tapping your foot furiously against the hotel's linoleum floor. You were waiting for check-in last night when your collaborator sent his text to everyone, and your team still hadn’t found a suitable replacement… How could you guys have a TSL photo event without a Lord of Shadows?? Especially when you're the one dressed as Henry! What self-respecting group TSL cosplay doesn’t have those two together?? They're the closest pair in the show! The Sun and Shadow shippers were going to start a riot…

You were all still double-checking your gear and supplies down in the lobby. Months of work had gone into planning and prepping for this event… Your friends were trying to calm you down as best as they could, but your nerves weren’t on your side… You hated letting down your fans, even if it was entirely out of your control. But without a replacement, what exactly could you do? Just as you were about to throw in the towel and get dressed, a bunch of shouting from the hallway entrance caught your attention.

“Why the hell am I stuck carryin’ all your crap, huh Levi?! Ya got two working hands!”

“Because this outfit is heavy, Mam-er-Malcom! I need help, or else I'll get sweaty and gross!”

“You're already gross, so what's it matter?”

“Shut up, scumbag!!”

'Yeesh, what a loud pair...' You turned to look their way with a visible frown to show your annoyance only for your jaw hit the floor. Two men walked out of the hall and into the lobby, one being a dark-skinned male with the whitest hair you'd ever seen, and the other… Sweet kami-sama above, the other guy…!!

He. Was. Perfect!! The dark, shadowy armor, constructed fron what you could only guess was EVA foam and faux furs, combined with his violet hair made him look like the spitting image of the Third Lord! It was almost like the character himself had climbed off the page!! You had to cover your mouth to contain an audible gasp of shock while glancing at the others in your team. Only a few of your friends had noticed the man's arrival, but those who had all shot you back the same kind of look, “Go get that guy. NOW!” Who were you to refuse?

The god-tier Third Lord cosplayer was still arguing with his companion when you first made your approach, allowing you to sneak up pretty close without getting noticed. By the time you were in speaking distance, you were already marveling at the craftsmanship of his cosplay up close. The foam pieces looked flawlessly metallic and there were no patches of hot glue mishaps, frayed stitching, or painting mistakes. It was truly something else!

“Hey, what'cha gawkin’ at??”

The white-haired male caught you red-handed, leading the cosplayer in his company to turn in your direction. Though, amusingly, the moment your eyes met he seemed just as star struck as you were. You wasted no time thrusting your hand out towards him with your most “camera-winning” smile.

“Hi! Uhm, I’m Y/n L/n and I'm-"

“-the most popular cosplay model on Instagram, three-time champion of the WCS competitions, and the host of the ‘TSL Today’ fan podcast-!”

You froze from surprise as the cosplayer slapped his mouth shut with his own hand in a bid to stop rambling. His cheeks instantly tinged pink as he must have realized that he was spitting your own resume at you in excitement. It was hard not to feel a bit flattered at the sudden eruption of joy, so you smiled back more genuinely.

“That’s right! You've heard of me?”

You waited for his response with a patient, maybe even endeared, gaze. Seeing that you weren’t immediately weirded out by his hyped babbling, he uncovered his mouth to respond shyly.

“Y-yeah, of course I do…! I uh… came here to see your meet-and-greet today…”

He winced, face getting hotter, and looked like he wanted to double over from embarrassment, but honestly, you couldn’t have been happier. A creator of THIS caliber was one of YOUR fans?? Talk about a “diamond in the rough” moment!

“Really? That’s awesome!! Because I couldn’t help but notice that cosplay you're wearing… Did you make it yourself?”

How his face recalibrated from flustered to ecstatic in just a few seconds could have made your heart melt. After he confirmed that his cosplay was his own handiwork you began to gush about the design, asking rapid-fire questions about the materials he bought, what patterns he found, and his different sewing techniques. You both were so caught up in each other's passion that you hardly even registered the other guy standing next to him until he finally cleared his throat insistently.

“Yo Levi… This crap’s gettin’ heavy. Are we going or what?”

The cosplayer, who you guessed was Levi, turned to the man reluctantly, which sent a surge of panic through you as you still hadn’t asked him to stay.

“Wait!!”

Both men flinched a bit at your sudden exclamation, making your cheeks flush with color, but you pressed on regardless,

“Um, Levi right? My team and I could use your help… Our Third Lord just dropped out on us today because of baggage troubles and we really need a replacement for the shoot. Your outfit is fantastic! Do you think that you could step into the role for us? I have early access badges to the vendors room, so we can take a look together if that uh… if that…? Um. Levi...?”

The man in front of you looked like he was moments away from breaking down in tears, but somehow holding them back through sheer force of will… and his closed eyelids making a decent dam.

“H-hold on… I think I need to pinch myself because this can’t be happening. Is this actually happening?”

His voice wobbled while the man next to him, Malcolm(?), rolled his eyes behind his gold-tinted glasses.

“Hey, that doesn’t answer their questions, ya know?” He elbowed Levi while looking at you with a serious expression, “Are ya willin’ to take him AND his stuff with ya?”

“Of course! It’s important to have everything while yo-”

“Great. You can have’em.”

You were taken aback just a bit by the speed of his response, but not as much as Levi because he quickly leapt back into the conscious world in a panic!

“Wha-wh-Whaah?? You can’t just answer for me!!”

Malcolm shrugged his shoulders, letting several bags he had on slide to the ground but cushioning the fall a bit with his foot.

“Why not? It’s clear ya wanna go with them. Unless you wanna leave them hangin'…”

“N-No!! I mean, yes! No-er UGH!”

You watched Levi cover his face in frustration feeling a twinge of sympathy. Does he get tongue-tied like this often? After a few seconds to compose himself, he finally straightened up to give his true response.

“Y-yes, I want to go with you…! Being able to help one of your online idols is like a dream come true for any fan! What can I do to help?”

You could feel your smile grow twice as wide from the combination of relief and gratitude. Maybe the shoot would go alright after all…

“Give me your hand.”

Levi stuttered watching you reach your hand out towards his, using your other one to pull out a black marker that you always kept on your person for fans. His skin was soft, but strangely cold, when he rested his knuckles into your upturned palm. The icy jolt even made you jump a bit. Holy crap, was he cold-blooded or something?? When he flashed you a concerned glance, you quickly recovered uncapped the marker between your fingers. With years of built up practice, you ran the black ink over his pale skin, but instead of a signature, you left one of your burner numbers that you used for interacting with collaborators.

“Here. We still need a bit of time to get ready, but that shouldn’t stop you from enjoying the con. Text me your name and I'll send you back where to meet up once we're ready to go.”

Levi was staring at the black marks on his hand like you'd just handed him a key item in a video game when one of your team shouted back from behind you.

“Y/n! Why aren’t you dressed yet?? We gotta go!”

“Shit, I’m coming!” You turned to head back, but you spared just a second to smile at Levi over your shoulder. “Thank you so much, Levi, you're going to be a huge help! Don't forget to text.”

“I won’t!”

Levi's promise made you grin lift even higher. With a wink and a wave, you made your way back to the others with a brand new pep in your step. Mission, saved!!

Meanwhile…

“… Did ya seriously just score a number in that getup?”

“I swear, I’ll never wash this hand again...!!”

“Fuck's sake, Levi, stop being so gross! At least put it in your phone before your sweaty palms wipe it off!”

“Gah, you're right!!”

[southerngothicchic]

Promises in the Dark

18+

Your eyes linger on the dingy neon lettering that read 'Prairie Inn,' on the faded sign. The equally dingy 'Vacancy' right below it seemed extra depressing tonight, just taunting you with the false prospect of actually having guests check in. You didn't know why you had to sit perched behind the dusty front desk, surrounded by so much wood paneling every night, when it would all prove to be done in vain.

You tried to convince your parents to sell the place and move away, to literally anywhere else, other than middle of nowhere North Dakota. They always refused, since it was a family business and they wanted it to stay 'in the family.'

Despite what they envisioned, this wasn't how your future was going to play out. Once you had enough saved up, you were getting out and possibly not looking back, at least not for a while.

Other than them, you didn't really have anything keeping you here...unless you counted a certain sheriff's deputy that had a crush on you.

You knew you never should've humored him, but you could only resist his dreamy brown eyes for so long.

You'd drag him into the back office for heated make outs, with him whining how you should just open up one of the rooms so you could have some real fun. You told him no, several times, out of some looming fear that you'd get caught. Which, he always tried to persuade you otherwise, but you didn't waver.

That was, until tonight.

You sit, with a huff, behind the front desk, already over everything while your shift had just started. You then pull your phone from your back pocket and begin endlessly scrolling.

For such a mind-numbing activity, it did make the time pass quicker, as it was soon 11 P.M.

You know he should be here soon, as he always stops by during his patrols of the area. Antipation courses through you as you've missed him more than you thought you would. You find yourself actually missing that stupid vape that seemed to be attached to his hand. He's so irritatingly cute, sometimes you couldn't stand it.

You turn your attention back to your phone, getting lost in scrolling once again, when you hear the ancient door creak open and the footfalls from heavy boots. You glance up to see him blow a cloud of vapor in front of him, as he approaches you. You roll your eyes, not wanting him to see how much you missed him.

"Evenin' gorgeous," he greets, leaning against the desk. "How's your night been?"

"Oh, you know, another thrilling night at the Bates Motel," you snark, gesturing to your surroundings.

You each share a laugh, as he nervously shifts his gaze from yours.

"I have to say, I don't like you being here all alone," he begins, "there's a lot of bad people out there that could take advantage of a pretty thing like you."

"So you tell me, literally every time I see you," you dismiss, with another laugh. "I think if some horrible thing was meant to happen to me, it would've by now."

"Hard to say, the world's just gettin' worse and people are gettin' crazier," he counters, "who knows what could happen on any given night."

"Are you trying to scare me, Tillman?"

He bristles at you using his last name.

"Just stating what could happen is all," he defends, glancing at you with those eyes.

"Well, I really shouldn't have anything to worry about because you'll be here to protect me, right?"

He smirks while you playfully bat your eyes at him.

"That's right, honey, nothing's gonna happen to you with me here," he says proudly.

"I'm so lucky to have such a big, strong man looking out for me," you then tease, knowing it really gets him going.

It's his turn to roll his eyes, before he leans closer to you.

"Make fun all you want, but I'm gonna show you just how big and strong I am," he breathes, his voice low.

"Oh really?"

He nods. "Now, c'mere, I've been dying to kiss ya all day."

He reaches for you and places his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you to him.

You let him, as you've been wanting the same thing.

His lips are surprisingly soft as he kisses you slowly. The tiniest moan escapes his lips when you deepen the kiss. The chill of the night is soon forgotten as he's consumed with the warmth radiating from you.

"I knew you missed me," he whispers, as he nose presses against your cheek.

"I did," you breathe, ghosting your lips over his.

"You wanna get us one of those rooms tonight, honey?"

"Gator..." you whine.

"Please, honey? Just think how good I can make you feel..." he continues, as he presses kisses to your cheek.

His kisses are dangerous, as you're considering giving in.

"You're the worst," you say, after breaking the kiss and pulling away.

His smirk returns as he watches you take the master room key out of a drawer. You slide it into one of your back pockets, followed by slipping your phone in the other.

"Lets go, loverboy," you say, as you take his hand and lead him out of the office.

You forget how cold it was as you hurry out into the night. Gator quickly pulls you to him, trying to shield you from the bitter wind. You each walk through the half melted snow, to the nicest room in the motel.

A half faded, gold 5 marks the door as you slide the key card in the lock. It clicks open and you eagerly pull him inside, wanting to get out the cold.

The room itself is almost as cold and dark when you feel him press your back against the door. His lips are on yours again, this time kissing you hungrily. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer.

"I knew you wanted this too," he breathes, as his lips move to your neck. "Fuck, I've wanted you for so long, baby."

You just whimper at his words as you feel his teeth scrape against your skin. He plans on leaving a sizable hickey, so everyone will know you're his.

Your hands are already clawing at his bulky vest, the feeling of him suckling on your skin almost too much.

"Tell me you want me, too," he then breathily commands, with his eyes meeting yours.

"I want you," you breathe, gazing at him helplessly.

With that, he lifts you up, into his arms and carries you to the bed. He gently lays you down before beginning to take off his clothes.

The faint light from the neon sign shines through the thin curtain, illuminating him as you watch him undress. His movements entrance you, until he reminds you that you should be taking off your clothes as well.

Blushing, you quickly pull your sweater over your head, revealing a black bra. You then lean over to take off your boots, before emptying your pockets, on the nearby nightstand. You slide your jeans down your legs then discard them, on the floor.

You lay back against the pillows, waiting for him to pounce.

He stands, just in his boxers, as he looks at you.

"So pretty..." he breathes, taking them off and climbing onto the bed.

He presses his lips to your ankle, then alternates between each leg, as he kisses his way up to your thighs. He smiles as you writhe underneath him.

The sensual way he's kissing you is a welcome surprise. Knowing that he possesses such tenderness makes you weak.

You whimper as he nips at your thighs, unable to keep from squirming. He then presses his mouth to your panties, pressing his tongue against the fabric.

"I bet you taste just as good as you smell," he says, looking up at you.

You throw your head back against the pillow, before he rips your panties from your body.

He wastes no time tasting you, as his tongue laps at you, feverishly. Your hands are immediately grasping and pulling at his slicked back hair, while moaning his name.

"You taste so fuckin' good, baby, better than I dreamed," he pants, as he devours you.

You close your eyes, as your legs begin to tremble, only for them to reopen as you whine when he pulls away.

He slithers up your body and hovers his face over yours.

"What's the matter, baby?" He asks, his voice dripping with condescension. "Do you need more?"

You let out a frustrated sigh, before pulling him into a kiss. He smiles before licking his way into your mouth, wanting you to taste yourself. The kiss becomes messier as your desire intensifies.

"You don't know how many nights I've dreamed about this..." he breathes. "And how you were dripping on my tongue..."

He pauses to kiss you again, with his tongue easily parting your lips. A low moan rumbles from his throat, before he continues, "You're the perfect girl, and you deserve to be fucked like one."

You actually gasp, against his lips, while he grins. He glances down as you instinctively spread your legs. You each moan as he eases himself inside you.

"Gator, I-its-" you breathe, arching your back.

"You can take it, honey, I know ya can," he assures, as he pushes all the way in.

You dramatically exhale when you feel his hips against yours.

"Fuck, you're so tight..." he grunts, "don't know how long I'm gonna last."

You move your hips, urging him to move, as your hands grip his shoulders.

"I'll just fuck ya nice and slow," he says, pulling halfway out, before sinking back in.

You're already back to moaning his name, which he can't get enough of.

"How's that, baby? Good?" He asks, loving how you're already this blissed out.

"So good, don't stop..." you answer, as he leans in for a kiss.

He moans into it when he feels you wrap your legs around his waist.

"You've wanted this as much as I have, huh?" He adds, with his lips trailing kisses down your neck.

"Y-Yes, oh God..." you sigh, as he fucks you deeper.

"I can tell from how you're squeezin' me, fuck..." he breathes, fully burying his face in your neck. "I wanna fuck you all the time, after this...you're mine now...all mine."

"Gator..." you whine, meant to be a form of protest, but too lost in pleasure.

"Say it," he commands, before biting the top of your shoulder.

"I'm yours!" You then yelp, your nails clawing at his back.

"Promise me..." he breathes, as he pushes your bra strap down, his lips mouthing along your skin. "Promise me that you'll always be mine..."

Your mind is almost too hazy to comprehend what he's saying, too far gone to form words. All you can really do is whimper as he places wet kisses across the top of your breast.

"Don't go all quiet on me now. I thought you liked me..." he says, looking up at you.

"I do-"

"Don't ya want to be with me?" He asks, kissing his way up your neck.

You whine his name again as he sighs.

"That's not a real answer, honey," he scolds, nuzzling his nose against your jaw.

"Yes, I want to be with you," you reply, exasperation evident in your voice.

He smiles, his eyes meeting yours, even in the darkened room.

"Then ya better fuckin' scream for me," he whispers, before roughly thrusting into you.

His abrupt change of pace makes you gasp and cling to him even tighter as he presses a sloppy kiss to your lips.

Sweat drips from his forehead onto your lips, when he pulls away. He watches as you then swipe your tongue across your lip, before smiling. He moans and fucks into you even harder, making you finally come undone around him.

His hips stutter, for a moment, as you cry his name, with your nails digging into his skin.

"Fuck...you're so beautiful baby...I'm gonna-"

A loud, obnoxious moan reverberates through him as he spills inside you. You're both moaning as he fills you so full, you can feel some of it seeping out.

He collapses onto you, engulfing your body with his. He's panting, harder than before while you lightly scratch his back.

"Holy shit..." he breathes, raising his head to meet your gaze.

You then pull him into a kiss, not wanting him to say something stupid and ruin the moment.

He eagerly reciprocates your kiss and you just lazily make out. He does eventually pull away and say, "I meant everything I said, I want you to be my girlfriend."

"We shouldn't, though. What about your dad-?"

"I don't care about what he thinks," he replies, his hand cupping your cheek. "I just know I wanna be with you. Like, show you off around town and take you on dates and stuff."

You smile. "I guess being your girlfriend wouldn't be so bad..."

"I'll be the best boyfriend you've ever had," he grins, "and you already know that the sex will be good."

"True," you laugh.

He kisses you again before you say, "I hate to do this, but I need to get back to the office."

"Its ok, I should go, too," he replies, giving you one last kiss before sitting up.

You both have dumb smiles on your lips as you redress. He slips his hand into yours as you walk to his patrol car. He pulls you into a tight hug, as he feels you shivering.

"I don't wanna leave you," he pouts, as you pull away to look at him.

"Why don't you come back in a few hours and we go get breakfast?"

A smile instantly forms on his lips.

"Ok, so like a date, then?"

"Yes, like a date," you say, playfully rolling your eyes, before smiling in return.

"See ya later," he breathes, pulling you back to him for a lingering kiss.

"See ya," you echo, against his lips.

You watch, still with a smile, as he leaves the desolate parking lot, before hurrying back inside the motel office.

You resume your place behind the desk, this time with a dreamy look in your eyes. You check your phone, and relief washes over you as there's no missed calls or concerned texts from your parents. You sigh, leaning back in the equally ancient chair, unashamedly excited for breakfast with your boyfriend.

[forusomimiya]

@jamminlocks ship & prompt: “Kiss me properly” w/ Kiyoomi Sakusa ˚₊˚✧🌱✧˖°😷

Kiyoomi is a rich person, with a very good social and economic status, but not the kind of rich person who is proud and boasts about it, but one who goes unnoticed as such.

He doesn't show others the power he has by coming from a wealthy family, he doesn't show everything he can buy with money, he isn't grateful to people through details to show that he can make people happy, and he doesn't behave in a nicer or more polite way than usual because of who he is or to make himself look good. He doesn't need any of that. As long as he has his loved ones close to him and is loved by them, he doesn't give a damn about anything around him.

That is why, after long family meetings, and long hours where his personality has to change with respect to the people he dinner, which he does not feel any kind of admiration or interest for them, he feels the great need to see you when that happens, thus releasing the tension and returning to being oneself.

Out of the corner of your eye you see the car approaching. You look up from the phone to see that it is the same one Sakusa described to you, a black BMW with tinted rear windows and a small statuette adorning the hood. After typing a couple of times, you put the phone away and get in, but not without greeting the chauffeaur before opening the door.

"Home?"

"Yes, thank you" the gentleman nods and sets off. "How was the trip?"

"Ugh, pretty long. I'm not used to sitting for so many hours."

"That's the thing about living so far away from Osaka. If you lived here with me, it would be different" his voice trails off as he moves closer to your neck, pulling down his mask to kiss it. "I've missed you" you smile and watch as his hand runs down your thigh slowly, searching for a place under your skirt to rest.

"In what way?" you return to his eyes, to his dark, deep black eyes.

"I'll show you later" your gaze flies to the front mirror, where the driver is taking no notice of what's going on back there.

"I missed you too" you give him a kiss on the head and turn back to the window, losing yourself in the people outside on the street and the cars speeding past you.

Suddenly, a mechanical sound makes you turn towards the source of the sound, finding a dark panel coming out from behind the driver and passenger seats, slowly ascending to the ceiling, separating your area from the one in front of you.

“What the h-“

"Don't worry"

"But, that's inappropriate Kiyoomi!"

"Well, it's done. Come here" he got rid of his mask and waited until he saw you next to him and, in a way, you were grateful that he had pushed that button and you had stayed hidden behind that panel.

Yes, his hand traveled to your thigh again, more eagerly than before. As you again provided him access to your neck, you admired the shadow of his figure reflecting inside the car with the light of each street lamp. You gawked at the movement of his fingers squeezing your skin, altering at the same time his breathing on your neck. And you lost yourself when he drew a line with his tongue that reached your ear, manifesting chills that would take a long time to leave, as many more were to come.

"Kiyoomi…" you whispered nervously to not be heard.

"He won't hear us so, you can moan my name if that's what you want" and just with that, he managed to steal one from you. "Yeah... that's how I like it…" your lip wouldn't survive tomorrow if you kept biting it out of anxiety, and your posture didn't show that the last thing you wanted, was to stay strong, when every kiss from Sakusa made you more and more fragile, especially if he got closer to your mouth.

"Kiyo-" his lips took yours, and in a desperate attempt to run his hand down to your panties and make you lose control, he stayed back, getting only, and at least, sweet moans with broken and impossible kisses. That's when the Kiyoomi Sakusa you knew, became as dark as that night. "Kiss me properly" an order that made you surrender and that, defeated and without control, made you take his lips as it was due, without missing shortly after to open your legs for him.

Of that night you would not forget the dominance he exercised over you, and neither would you forget the grunts that, in exchange for giving him his name in a melodious moan and plea as you cum in his bed the way only he wanted, he gave you as a reward for being such a good girl. The scratches, hickeys and the marks of his fingers on your ass would not be forgotten either. And with that, you would reconsider returning to Osaka more often.

[da-rulah]

The Mayor's Daughter - Mary Goore x f!Reader [Part 2]

Summary: Mary has something of yours from your last encounter. You have something of his. In a standoff, Mary suggests you meet to make the trade off, so you can pay your ransom.

Little does he know, you have a secret weapon up your sleeve... or rather, his sleeve...

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Word Count: 9k

Warnings: Teasing, lingerie, nipple play, choking, biting, cunnilingus, oral sex (f receiving), being gagged, squirting, manhandling, contraception mentioned but raw p in v sex still, angst, hurt 

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3

A/N: SO listen, this was supposed to be a silly little series of smut one shots with Mary that was low priority and something to do between other fics. Then... I started plotting. And now, the plot is plotted. So here you go, heathens - more Mary filth, except now we got storyline... Huge thank you to @her-satanic-wiles & @angellayercake again for beta reading!

Oh, and I now have a ko-fi if you fancy leaving me a little tip, but no pressure. Love ya!

You stared at your phone, the unread notification on your screen lighting up with each time you hit the side button. You hadn’t opened the message, only able to see the preview but it was enough.   

After two weeks of radio silence from Mary Goore, he’d finally text you late this afternoon.  

R u willing 2 pay ur ransom yet doll?  

You’d maybe stared at it for a few minutes, thinking of ways you might be able to sneak Mary in, or you could sneak out yourself. You knew your parents were home this evening; they’d invited your father’s deputy and his wife for dinner. You were not invited.   

“Just business, darling,” your father had told you. “Not for children.”  

That had pissed you off beyond belief. You weren’t a fucking child anymore; hadn’t been for a long time. But that’s daddy for you... Treating you like the same pigtailed little girl in the photo frame on your dresser, sat on her father’s shoulders at a Fourth of July parade. She looked happy, innocent.   

But that was well over a decade ago.   

And so, still simmering with a hint of anger and a flame stoked in your rebellious little soul, you decided you were indeed ready to pay your ransom.  

You were ready for round two with Mary fucking Goore.  

I have what you need. 8:30pm. I’ll leave my window open. Be quiet, daddy’s downstairs. No funny business, Goore. I’ll have my secret weapon ready if you try anything stupid.  

A few minutes went by, when the ‘sent’ turned to ‘read 5:43pm’, and the three little dots popped up on his side.  

Wouldn’t dream of it. C u l8r doll.   

You smirked at your screen, a thrill rushing through you at the thought of another night with Mary Goore...  

Mary sat in his old black van across the street from your house, staring at the only light that was on upstairs. He’d been here early, around 8pm, and seen a couple pull up in a fancy car through the ornate gates that shut your house off from the rest of the street. Your father had greeted them with a firm handshake and a cheek kiss at the porch. Some kind of work thing, he assumed, scoffing at the nature of the situation he found himself in.  

Climbing through your window in the darkness of night to fool around with the Mayor’s daughter while he conducted a formal business meal downstairs. How cliché...  

As he’d watched, he bit at his thumb nail, plotting his route to get to the window. He could climb up the trellis panels along the edge of your garage, shuffle his way along the guttering and climb in that way... First, he’d have to climb over the tall iron railings without impaling himself on the spikes around the back of the house and away from the security cameras along the porch.   

He checked the clock on his dashboard, hissing a quick ‘fuck’ realising he was out of time; it was 8:27pm. It was now or never.   

Mary scrambled his way over the fence of the back yard, carefully dodging the view of cameras and the French doors that he could see your father through, sat at the dining table with his guests. Miraculously, he hadn’t impaled himself on the railings, though he did manage to snag his already ripped jeans, but that was no real loss to him.   

Climbing up the trellis should have been easier than it was, but he hadn’t accounted for the thorns on the roses that were growing up them. He quickly learned his lesson after blindly grabbing and piercing his palm in multiple places, almost stumbling and falling a few feet off the ground.   

But eventually, Mary made it up on the garage, and shuffled his way along the guttering to your open window. With a less than graceful forward roll and a clatter of trinkets falling to the ground from the desk he’d knocked them from beside the window, Mary was in.   

“Could’a told me I’d be pulling some Top Gun shit to get up here, doll...” he grumbled, dusting himself off and sucking at the puncture wounds on his palm as he turned around to find...  

An empty room.   

“Doll?” he asked, looking around to see if he’d missed you, but you were nowhere to be found. Mary’s shoulders slumped, huffing in annoyance as he found himself in a room that frankly was the exact opposite of his personal taste.   

Patterned wallpaper from decades long since passed coated your walls, covered in pretty pink peonies. Pretty pink and white bedding draped over a large bed in the middle of the room, frills and lace neatly assembled with a well-kept collection of stuffed animals and scatter cushions against the headboard. Sparkly trinkets and polished ornaments sat on most surfaces he could see with the naked eye, clearly collected over the course of your childhood.   

It looked like a kid’s bedroom... A little princess’ dream room. Not the bedroom of a young woman of your age, and certainly not the kind to fuck a guy like him in the stall of the men’s bathroom at a dive bar.   

In your absence, Mary took the time to look closely at some of the trinkets lining your dresser; a necklace rack with pretty little pendants hanging neatly in different metals; a little gold tray filled with pretty stones and crystals you’d collected; a tiny little ornament of a pink kitten; a white half-burned candle that smelled faintly of roses.   

You really were the cliché Mary thought you were, huh? Mary was little more than a touch of excitement and rebellion in an otherwise pristine little life – he could live with that, he supposed. He too had felt a thrill in claiming you as his two weeks ago in that bar, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about doing it again ever since.   

As Mary looked around your room, flicking at the necklaces, inspecting the trinkets, he came across the photo frame of tiny little you. He picked it up, smiling to himself at the goofy grin on the little girl’s face, the pigtails tied up with pretty red ribbons that matches the dungarees she wore. He shook his head with a little laugh, noting the Mayor in the photo and how much younger he looked. Office had aged him, that was for sure.   

How he’d come to find himself in this predicament, he had no idea. How ironic that the daughter of the Mayor to the very town that loathed him had become his booty call.   

Well, you would be if he could fucking find you.  

Putting the photo frame back in its place, Mary looked around one more time, noting there were two doors in the room. He figured he’d try his luck – if he were quiet enough, he wouldn’t be caught. Your parents had no reason to be upstairs with guests over, and maybe you were in a second living room or something? This house was definitely big enough to have two.   

Mary crept over to the door closest to him, reaching for the handle. He’d just grasped it in his palm, when he heard a click behind him.   

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” your pretty little voice warned, more stern than he’d heard it before. Mary froze, a smirk playing on his lips.   

“I think you just lost, doll...” he teased, standing up straighter yet still facing the door.   

“Lost what, Goore?” you enquired, leaning up against the doorframe of the bathroom you’d just been in, hiding from him as you applied the final touches to your make up. Mary began to turn towards the sound of your voice, then.  

“Your little game of hide and see-” He stopped in his tracks, the last syllable getting caught in his throat as his eyes fell on you.   

There you were, this pristine little daddy’s girl, leaning up against the doorframe with cherry red lips so ridiculously enticing, scantily clad in pretty red lace. The matching set you’d prepared came with a garter belt, only attached to strips of elastic around your upper thigh. The straps of the bralette contoured the curve of your breasts, similar straps of elastic sitting high on your hips. The lace only covered what it needed to, the straps themselves doing most of the enticing.   

But what really got him, was the leather jacket you wore over the top of it, covered in spikes, badges, patches and chains.  

His leather jacket.  

You smirked at Mary’s silence, watching his eyes drink you in as you showed off more than he’d got to see that night at the bar... This wasn’t rushed, this wasn’t on a whim. This had been planned, specifically to scramble his brain the second he saw you. And if the way he readjusted his jeans and his jaw dragged across the floor was anything to go by, you’d succeeded.  

Mary scraped his jaw back from the floor, collecting himself and settling his gaze on your eyes, feigning a look of deviance and irritation.  

“So, this is your secret weapon, huh?” he asked, gesturing towards your outfit – or lack thereof. “I told you I wanted that back,” he said, his voice deep and vaguely threatening.   

“I propose a trade. Do you have them?” you asked, holding your open hand out towards him.   

Mary patted at his chest as if looking for something, hands travelling down to his front pockets of his jeans, then to his back, where he let out an “ah-ha!” and pulled the familiar white lace of your panties from your last encounter from one of the pockets. “You’ll see they’re completely unharmed...” he dangled them out towards you.   

“Put them on the bed and step away...” you warned, keeping up the facade of a ransom exchange just a little longer. Mary did as you asked, slowly stepping towards the end of your bed and gently laying your panties on the edge, before holding his hands up in surrender and stepping back a few paces.   

You walked to the bed, picking them up and inspecting them for any damage at all. Mary watched you from afar, amused and shoving his hands into his pockets. With a satisfied hum, you balled the panties up and threw them back down onto the end of your bed, turning on your heels to look at him.   

“See, doll? Completely unharmed. Now... your turn,” he smirked, his eyes drifting back over your body, enjoying every inch of skin he could see beneath his jacket.   

“Can’t I keep it just a little longer...? It suits me, don’t you think?” you asked innocently, twirling around for him to catch a good glimpse of your ass peeking from beneath the leather.  

Mary pinched at his chin, unashamedly watching your ass as you modelled his jacket for him. “Hmm,” he hummed, “I suppose... it does have a kind of charm on you, doll.”  

You giggled, the sound momentarily scrambling the frequencies in his brain again before he shook his head and refocussed. You stepped towards him, biting your sultry red lip as you looked him up and down with the same hunger he had shown you.  

“So... do I get to wear it a little longer?”   

“Maybe just a little, doll...” he shrugged, waiting as you slowly approached him.   

“Just a little?” you pouted, coming to stand in front of him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He kept his hands to himself, tucked back into his pockets. “Why just a little longer?”  

“Because, doll... I ain’t gonna be able to stop myself ripping it off ya pretty fuckin’ soon,” he threatened. You grinned, pulling your body to rest against him, breasts pushed into his chest and hips grazing his half-hard length in his tight jeans.  

“Enough talk, Mare... You came here to fuck me, so fuck me,” you told him, hovering your lips close to his.   

But Mary just laughed, throwing his head back. “Oh, doll... Nuh-uh... You think I’m gonna rush this?” he asked, stepping either side of your feet and pushing you a step backwards simply with the force of his chest against yours. “Last time, we were in danger of gettin’ caught. Had to be quick, hm?” He took another step, forcing you back again. “But I reckon we got some time while daddy shmoozes his guests downstairs... I ain’t rushin’ this time, doll...”   

He backs you up until you can feel the frills of your bedding on the bare backs of your knees, tickling the exposed skin but he stops you there, not yet pushing you down onto the mattress. Instead, he lifts one of his hands from his pocket, pressing his thumb to your bottom lip and lightly pulling it down.  

“You wear this shade just for me, baby?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. From this close, you could see the details in his make up, the dark circles he painted on with pale skin, the fake blood dripping from his hairline. The fringe of his spiked hair tickled your nose where it came to a point, and you shivered from the tickle and his light grasp on your lip.   

“Uh-huh,” you confirmed, Mary smirking in triumph.  

“I like it... Wonder how it’d look on me,” he teased. “Let’s find out...”  

In less than a heartbeat he dropped your lip, his hand reaching for the lapel of his jacket draped over your body and pulling you to him, pressing his lips to yours. You whimpered at the contact, your mind blanking with the sensation of being able to finally kiss him again after a painful two weeks.   

Mary stayed true to his word, taking his time to mould his lips with yours, tilting his head in order to make you more pliant in his grasp. He tasted as he did the last time you met, with the exception of the beer you had pounded together that evening; the lingering taste of cigarette smoke and a vague sweetness from whatever he used as fake blood to drip down his face.   

Your fingers wound their way into the shorter hair at the back of his head, tugging at the roots while your arms tightened around his neck. Mary’s grip on his jacket fell to your hips, pulling at the elastic of the garter belt around your waist. He could feel your bare skin beneath it, driving him utterly insane with want. But no, he said he wouldn’t rush this. He wouldn’t. He wanted to savour every touch, every taste, every noise he could from you.   

But he also couldn’t bring himself to deny you when you ran your tongue along his bottom lip, a clear indication you needed to taste more of him, directly from the source. And so, he allowed you to invade, tongue meeting in a slow and deliberate show of sensuality.   

Somehow, despite being so much slower in his movements this time around, it felt all the more filthy than your encounter in the bathroom stall. Your little mewls of pleasure and his dark little chuckles and groans added something to the moment, a familiar sense of desperation for each other.  

Eventually, Mary pushed you to sit at the edge of your bed, tapping the steel toecap of his boots at your inner ankles to spread your knees for him to stand in the space you created. You did so without a fight, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes and curving your back to give him a nice view of your ass over your shoulder. He pinched your chin between his thumb and forefinger, smirking down at you with a smudge of red across his lips.  

“Well...? How does your lipstick look on me, doll?” he asked, pouting for added effect.   

“Suits you...” you giggled, “but I’m wondering...” You reached for his belt, unbuckling the leather from the oversized skull buckle, “how it’d look smothered along your cock...”   

“Fuck, you’re filthy, doll...” he praised, but he gripped your wrists and paused your movements. “But as my memory serves me, you’ve taken my cock in that pretty mouth before, hm? And as fucking good as that was, I wanna try something new tonight. That alright with you?” he asked, a genuine tenderness in his eyes that let you know it was alright to tell him no, that you could back out any second if you wanted.   

But the sparkle that said Mary had a plan was still very much prevalent, and you let your curiosity get the better of you. You wanted whatever he planned. You wanted anything Mary was willing to give.  

“Whatever you want, Mare,” you smirked, fluttering your eyelashes up at him as you loosened your grip on his belt.   

Mary whistled with a smirk and a shake of his head, “Careful sweetheart... That’s a real dangerous door to open.”  

Before you could think of a witty response, his hand wrapped itself around your exposed neck, the cool feel of his silver rings contrasting with the heat of arousal that emanated from your skin. With his thumb, he titled your chin up a little more, before he dipped his head to attach his teeth to the space under your ear, nibbling, suckling, licking over the skin as he travelled down your neck, holding you in place while he bent over you.  

Because he was stood between your thighs, you couldn’t help but widen them to accommodate him, his body slotting itself in and crowded your senses. You could smell a cologne on him – not one he’d worn last time... was he try to impress you? - that was musky and woody, only complimented by the faint smell of cigarette smoke.   

Mary made his way down your neck, holding you tightly as he moved to your chest, paying close attention to the sounds of your laboured breaths and little whimpers as he got closer to the curve of your breasts. To aid his descent, Mary got down onto one knee, his free hand gripping your thigh for stability just as tightly as he held your neck. To your disappointment, he moved back just as he was getting close to the red elastic that sat above the cup of your bra, still holding you in place.  

“Look at me, doll...” he commanded, and you did so without question – a little difficult, with the way he was holding your chin higher than it naturally sat. But he held eye contact with you, even as he moved in to lick a wide stripe between your breasts from your sternum, right up to where his hand grasped your neck. Your hips bucked just a little in arousal, but he noticed. Mary didn’t miss a trick.   

“Fuckin’ needy little thing, you are. What, you want me to touch you?” His hand on your neck slid up to cup your jaw, two of his fingertips forcing their way past your lips and holding you tight. “Want my tongue? My fingers? My cock?”   

You couldn’t answer if you tried, his hand locked in place, keeping you silent save for the pleading whine you let out. Mary laughed, reattaching his lips to your chest and trailing open mouthed kisses down to the curve of your breast, finally mouthing at flesh instead of skin and bone. He bit down on you, digging his nails into your thigh as he did to spread the light pain further across your body. You couldn’t help the gasp you let out, hips rolling on the bed in search of something more.   

“Undo this bra for me, doll. My hands are busy,” he told you. You did as you were told, reaching behind you and unclasping the hooks, letting it fall loose on your shoulders underneath Mary’s jacket. With the tension removed from the elastic, he could move the flimsy cups out of the way, nudging them with that delectable nose of his to finally reach the nipples that had hardened for him long ago.   

His tongue laved over the bud, heavy breaths flooding from his nose while his mouth was preoccupied with your tits. By the noise he was making, Mary seemed to be enjoying himself, fingertips digging into your thigh against, his rings imprinting on your flesh.   

With Mary distracted, you shimmied out of his jacket, wanting to take the bra off completely. When you’d thrown the thin little thing to the side, Mary’s eyes looked up at you with a darkness, a hint of distaste in them.   

“Put that fucking jacket back on,” he growled against your breast. “Ain’t nothin’ prettier than tits and leather.” You giggled around the fingers in your mouth and reached for the jacket that lay around you, shuffling until you had it back on. “Good girl,” he mumbled against your breast again, suckling at your nipple while he slid the hand from your mouth down to cup the other breast, pinching in time with his teeth nipping at the other.   

Your hands found his hair again, messing with the way he’d styled it and scratching at his scalp as you pulled his head closer to you. You rolled your hips again where you sat, trying desperately to grind against his chest but you simply couldn’t reach from here, and you whimpered at the lack of contact to where you really needed him.  

With a popping sound, Mary pulled back from your breast and levelled his face with yours, demanding eye contact.  

“Needy little girl wants me to touch her cunt, huh?” he asked, no hint of shame or shyness to him at all. It made your core burn for him.   

“Please, Mare...” you whined.   

“Said I was gonna take my time, doll. You gettin’ impatient?” He arched an eyebrow, testing you. You were in no mood to hide your lust.  

“Mhm...”  

“You want my cock that badly?” he asked, a cocky smile playing on his lips. You nodded, giving him your best pathetically needy puppy-dog eyes. He just laughed.   

“Tough shit, doll. I’m sure you’re used to gettin’ what you want, but I wanna enjoy this. And frankly, baby, I’m thirsty. I’ve been here all this time, and you haven’t even offered your guest a drink?” he accused, acting insulted. “Just rude, that. Guess I’ll have to get my own...”  

A swell of panic rose in your chest, your eyes widening as your eyes darted towards the door to the hallway. He couldn’t... Your father would go nuts, throw Mary out by the collar of his band shirt and ground you for the rest of eternity – even if you were a fucking adult.  

Mary followed your gaze and laughed. “Not from there, doll. I got what I need right here.”  

Without warning, Mary pulled the feeble lace of your panties to one side, exposing your dripping centre to him and launching himself between your thighs. His lips encircled your clit and with a loud slurp, and he took enough of your arousal onto his tongue to coat the appendage completely. You couldn’t help the loud gasp that forced its way up your throat, Mary’s hand slapping over your open mouth to cut it off.   

Now silenced, you allowed the moans to spill freely against his palm as he dove into your core, lapping at your clit, your lips and your entrance like he already knew what you liked, where you needed him. True to his word, Mary drank from you every drop of arousal you produced as if he hadn’t hydrated in days. His make up smeared all over you, a mixture of fake blood and whatever black and white paints he’d used for his dull skull make up. You could see the pink tinge of your lipstick still around his lips, getting messier by the second.   

As he focussed on your clit, you howled against his palm, prompting him to remove himself from your core and shush you just inches from your face, warning you with darkened eyes to keep quiet, or he’d stop everything. You may have a big house, but Mary was still very aware of the dinner going on downstairs; he was not about to get thrown out of your house with a raging boner and smeared pussy juice all over his fucking face.   

“Seems I can’t keep you quiet, doll... How do I shut you up, hm?” he asked, pressing his hand harder against your lips as he looked around your room for something to aid him. His eyes landed on the white lace beside you, draped over the corner of your bed, and his eyes glimmered with mischief.   

With his free hand, he grabbed at your used panties, balling them up and stuffing them into your mouth until he was sure he’d plugged up the source of the noise.  

“There. Now do me a favour, pretty girl...” he leaned in to whisper in your ear, the faint scent of your juices hitting your nose from the mess over his mouth and chin, “ shut the fuck up...”   

You moaned into the lace in your mouth, muffled well enough that only Mary would be able to hear. The way he spoke to you, took command and degraded you made you so damn weak for him; because you had a weird feeling you were safe with Mary.   

Absolutely, he was a son of a bitch, a fucking asshole, a total whore and the filthiest guy you had yet to meet but there was always an air of safety with him, of comfort and a mutual respect you didn’t seem to get with any of the assholes you’d fooled around with in the past. Mary wasn’t exactly your usual type – unwillingly a cliché, you only seemed to fool around with jocks or preppy guys – but that was because you had always, always lived up to daddy’s expectations. You fooled around with the guys your father would approve of, in the hope that someday he may approve of you in the same way.   

Mary was the opposite of that and truthfully, the first guy you’d slept with that made you feel anything other than a dull buzz. For starters, he knew where the clit was and what to fucking do with it – but there was an electricity there, the spark of a passion you’d not yet felt with anyone else. Mary knew what buttons to press, how far he could go; he was running off pure instinct, listening to you, feeling you, understanding you.   

He dove back between your legs, the jolt of pleasure as his tongue swept over your clit forcing your legs to clamp down around his head. His hands gripped onto your thighs, nails digging into the flesh as if encouraging you, taunting you to try and squeeze until you crushed him. Your moans were caught by the lace in your mouth, muffled but still as desperate as they had always been under Mary’s spell.  

You had always thought there was no way a man could make you cum with just his tongue, but you thought the same thing of men in general, having been left unsatisfied without your own intervention during every sexual encounter with a man previously. But Mary had already proved you wrong when he’d made you squirt on his cock – you hadn’t even realised you could do that.  

He was determined to make you do the same again, still feeling particularly thirsty for you. He persevered, swiping his tongue over your most sensitive of nerves, winding the coil in your abdomen tighter and tighter... The only warning you gave him was your hands gripping the roots of his hair, your hips shoving themselves against his face right before you squealed against the lace, biting down and once again, squirting as you came from Mary’s ministrations.   

Mary growled with hunger as he caught as much as he could, drinking every drop he could reach, rutting against the tightness in his jeans for some kind of friction for himself, now too turned on to hold back. He didn’t stop for air, never pulled away from you until you were physically pushing at his head, overstimulated and in need of a reprieve.   

Mary fell back, his hands catching himself on your carpet as he gasped for air, your cum dripping from his chin mixed with fake blood, white paints and your smeared lipsticks. You fell back against the mattress, pressing your fingertips into your eyes in a hope it might ground you as you came down. You made no move to remove the lace from your mouth; it served to still silence the whimpers of aftershocks that rippled through you, your limbs convulsing every few seconds after brief pauses of stillness.  

You missed the smugness on Mary’s face as he licked what he could reach from around his mouth, smearing the rest on the back of his palm. Slowly, he crawled back to his knees, slinking his way over your chest and hovering above you like a serpent ready to wrap himself around you and squeeze your life essence from your body. His eyes looked predatory, and your heart rate that had begun to stabilise shot through the roof again.   

Mary wasn’t finished.  

“Think that’s my thirst quenched, doll...” he smirked, running his thumb along your stained bottom lip, noting how the red had transferred to the white lace gag. “Fuckin’ love that you can do that for me.”  

You did your best to smile around the intrusion in your mouth, your eyes doing most of the emoting.  

“But y’know what?” he teased, pressing kisses under your ear lobe as his hands travelled down to your breasts again, lightly tracing around your nipple and back up to your throat. “I’m fuckin’ hungry, now.”  

With a strength you didn’t know he possessed judging by his scrawny little frame, he gripped the edges of his open leather jacket in one fist, lifted it with enough force that he could throw you backwards, back hitting the piles of stuffed animals and pillows. You yelped, again muffled by the cotton lace.  

Mary just laughed. He stood up at the end of the bed, reaching to the back collar of his cut-off band tee and dragging it over his head until it fell to the ground.   

“You want my cock, didn’t you doll?” he asked, keeping his voice relatively low so as not to raise suspicion from downstairs. You may have been gagged, but he wasn’t. He had to still be careful. But you nodded at him frantically, squeezing your thighs together in anticipation.   

His hands worked the button and fly of his skinny jeans, shoving the tight material down his thighs until he could stand on them to pull one leg out, then the other. He whipped his briefs off pretty quickly too, freeing himself completely. You watched in delight as he fisted his length a couple of times – this was the first time you’d seen him bared to you like this, and frankly, you couldn’t seem to get enough...   

His subtle definition over his skinny form had you drooling, eyes following the trail of hair from his stomach to his well-kept pubic hair. You whimpered at the sight of his cock, completely free from confinement, and his thighs that tensed as his fist squeezed at the head of his cock.   

Without another word, Mary knelt on the bed, pulling your ankles apart to give him space to shuffle between them. He wanted unrestricted access to your core, and so began pulling the garter belt from your waist along with the garters themselves, so he would finally make progress and get to the waistband of your panties underneath.   

This pretty red shade was gonna haunt him at night, he just knew it. He couldn’t get away with keeping it this time; his memory would have to do.  

Now fully undressed, Mary had you right where he wanted you – naked and beneath him, with only his leather jacket on. You were the sexiest god damned thing he’d ever fucking seen.  

He hovered above you, trailing his fingertips from your neck, down over your breasts and to your thigh, where he hooked his hand under your knee and hiked it up to his hip. He lowered himself, his bare cock sliding against the mess between your legs. His eyes locked with yours, and for a moment he seemed to falter, as if looking for some kind of anomaly in your irises. Suddenly, Mary was pulling the panties from your mouth and instead, pushing his lips to yours for another engulfing kiss.  

You held his head in place, raising from the pillows to meet him and move so effortlessly with him. You could taste yourself faintly on his lips, and eagerly you swiped your tongue over his for more of it.   

Mary pressed his forehead to yours as he let the kiss fade out, squeezing his eyes shut and bracing himself as he lined the head of his cock up with your dripping centre. He hadn’t prepped you at all, and so he knew that first push he had to go slowly, he had to be careful – but he also knew you’d be tighter than last time, his fingers not yet working you open.   

“Tell me you want me, baby...” he whispered to you, nuzzling his nose against yours, lost in bliss.  

“I want you, Mare...” You didn’t even hesitate, whispering back. “Please...”   

Mary kissed you again, using your lips to try and distract him from the squeeze of his cock pushing into you, slowly filling you so deliciously, so completely... With the strain of keeping his composure, his lips pressed harder against yours. Your fingernails dug into his head as you held him in place, whimpering into your kiss.   

When he’d completely filled you, his hips flush against yours, he stilled for a moment and parted his lips from yours.  

“You good, doll?” he asked, searching your face for any signs of discomfort. He found none, but he needed confirmation. This felt different to last time, more intimate than the bathroom encounter. Maybe it was because he was surrounded by your childhood bedroom and very aware of how vulnerable that made you to him. Maybe it was because he was able to actually see you this time. Maybe it was because he was pressed up against you, held by you in such a way that he hadn’t had in quite some time, his usual encounters with women fleeting and rushed.  

But like Mary had said in the beginning; tonight, he wasn’t rushing.   

“I’m good, Mare. Please, move,” you begged, rolling your hips beneath him for the slightest friction.  

He obliged without hesitation now he had the green light, slowly rolling his hips to drag his length back through your sopping heat until he could push himself back in with a more deliberate and angled thrust. You gasped beneath him, his hand once again coming to slap over your lips to silence you.  

“Careful, baby. Don’t make me gag you again, hm?” You nodded from underneath his palm as he found his pace, filling you over and over and deliciously hitting that same pressure point he’d found last time. “Good girl... You know I love the pretty noises you make for me, but they’re just for me, you hear?” he warned. You nodded again, slamming your head back down into the pillows beneath you, your hands running down to his shoulders to hold onto him.   

His hand drifted from your mouth, instead finding purchase on your hip bone to hold you down against the mattress while he drove his cock deep inside you over and over again. Although a struggle, you managed to contain your moans for the time being, biting down on your bottom lip and squeezing his shoulders.   

Mary, too, was struggling to keep quiet. He wanted nothing more than to roar in his bliss, to grunt and growl and lose his fucking mind between your legs but he held back, gritting his teeth around the noises he let escape. You saw his struggle, and figured now was as good a time as any to mess with him...  

“You feel so good, Mare...” you whispered breathlessly. His brow visibly creased, his eyes boring into yours. “Filling me so perfectly. C-can feel you... in my fucking... stomach,” your sentence broke apart as his thrusts got harder and harder with each of your words, spurred on by your filth.  

“ Fuck , baby girl... You tryna make me lose it, huh?” You just giggled beneath him, riling him up further.   

“C’mon Mare, fuck me... Gag me if you gotta, but fuck, just lose it. Fuck me, Goore...” You begged.   

Mary buried himself in your neck and growled against it, biting at the flesh and ramming his hips into you harder and harder. Your own whimpers slipped from within, and again, Mary had to cover your mouth with his hand to stop them getting any louder, drawing attention to you both.   

Between his hand on your mouth and jaw and the other pinning your hips to the bed, you were stuck beneath him, unable to writhe and move much at all below the unforgiving Mary, who – like you had told him to – had lost it. The sight of him was maddening, intoxicating. It had you clenching your walls around him, earning muffled groans and huffs from above you.   

“Fuckin’ love the way this pussy grips me, baby. Like you never wanna let me go...” he chuckled, gritting his teeth.   

You were so close, that familiar tingle growing desperately by the second, heat pooling and spreading from your core through every limb, like magma spilling from a crater and coating everything in its path.   

“M-Mary...” you whispered, nails digging into his back and dragging across the pale skin, leaving red scrapes in their path. He fucking loved that shit.  

“What is it, baby? You gonna cum again for me? I get two outta you, this time?” he teased. “Go ahead, cream on my cock. I got you,” he promised; and you believed him.   

Even with the grip on your body he had, Mary couldn’t stop you from curling in on yourself, that coil inside you seeming to wind you up like a clockwork toy until you eventually broke, pulling Mary against your chest and ripping his hand from your lips so you could kiss him, releasing all of your energy into a scream that was swallowed by his lips and tongue.   

Mary’s hips never faltered, but he felt the way your pussy gripped him, the drag of each thrust so much harder between that and your hands pulling his body taught against your own. His resolve crumbled quickly, hips frantically smacking into yours until he could feel himself on the edge.   

Mary hadn’t cum inside last time, and in the absence of a condom, he wasn’t sure you’d allow him. He’d understand, but with your lips trapping his from asking permission, he was beginning to panic, his end rushing towards him like a freight train.   

He held off, somehow managing to keep himself from climaxing until your climax had dulled enough for him to pry you from his lips, smacking his forehead to yours as he grunted and took a breath.  

“Doll, g-gonna cum... W-where?” he could barely ask a full sentence in the state he was in, but you understood despite the haze of a ridiculously powerful second orgasm.   

“On... the pill...” you’d said between breathless gasps, still reeling from more aftershocks and surrounded by the suffocating heat of both your bodies entwined in each other. “Inside, Mare. Fill me,” you told him.  

That was the spark to a puddle of gasoline... it ignited him instantly, barrelling headfirst into an orgasm he felt in every single nerve in his body.   

You held him, arms wrapped tight around his shoulders as his forehead bruisingly pressed into yours, his jaw dropping as a loud moan began to rip from his chest. This time, it was you stuffing your white panties into his mouth, just in time to stop the noise reverberating on the walls and causing one hell of a scene for your parents to rush in on.   

He didn’t still his hips, rather slowed them to savour the feeling of his spend filling you up, warming both your insides and his shaft. His cock was so damn sensitive now, every slow drag through his mess inside you having him jolt against you in overstimulation until finally, he’d calmed himself enough to be able to pull out and collapse into your chest, his leather jacket sticking to the both of you.   

For a while, you lay like that; catching your breath and laying in the afterglow of a damn good fuck. It wasn’t until Mary rolled onto his side next to you and spat your panties out that you felt the relief of a cool breeze caused by his movement.  

“I got no idea where you got that mouth of yours, darlin’, but it’s gonna get me in a lot of trouble...” he chuckled, running his fingers through his sweat-damp hair, pushing it from his forehead.   

“Oh, my mouth? Seems to me, you’re the talker of the two of us, Goore,” you prodded an accusatory finger into his peck. Mary made a “meh” noise, falling into his back and rubbing his hands over his face, only to look at them and notice the mess of colours that transferred to his palms.   

“Shit, was that a bathroom you popped out from earlier? I uh... could do with a hose down.” You laughed at him, nodding as you sat up.   

“Me first, though. Heard a girl should always pee after sex,” you shrugged. “Helps... something? Whatever.” You stood, clenching your thighs together when you felt the mess that threatened to drip from you. Ah, that’s why.  

Mary just chuckled at the way you waddled into your little en suite and waited patiently for his turn to spruce himself up in your shower, teasing you when he’d seen you emerge in a towel with your hair thrown up and out of the way.   

Truthfully, he’d hoped maybe you’d have joined him – but perhaps you felt like that was a little too intimate. He had to remember his place, after all. Just a booty call, and booty calls don’t wash each other’s bodies and shampoo each other’s hair.   

Now clean, Mary emerged in a towel with his hair still dripping. You hadn’t seen him without his signature face paint since he’d dropped out of school at 15, and he seemed somewhat vulnerable without it; like he’d stripped himself of a protective layer between him and the rest of the world.   

Nevertheless, Mary dressed himself again and sat down at the edge of your bed, where you’d sat waiting for him in a fresh pair of sweatpants and a cami top – topped off, of course, by his leather jacket. Mary laughed at the sight.  

“Am I not gonna get that back, doll?” he asked, nodding at the jacket as he buckled his belt back up.  

“Not yet... Gonna need it, it’s cold out tonight,” you shrugged.  

“Oh? We goin’ somewhere?” he asked, arching an eyebrow as he dug into his back pocket for his pack of cigarettes, pulling one from the box and shoving it between his teeth.  

You stood and took a step towards him, plucking the cigarette from his teeth and instead pushing it between your lips. “Can’t smoke inside, daddy will smell it.”  

Mary’s lips curled into a wicked smile. You really were the hottest little minx he’d had the pleasure of fucking.   

You strode over to the open window Mary had climbed in through, climbing out onto the roof and heading for the edge of the apex, climbing down it to the flat platform of the garage roof, safely tucked to the side of the house. Up there sat a little flowerpot filled with sand that you’d put there over two years ago – a makeshift ashtray for your little sneaky smokes.   

Mary followed you, both of you taking a seat to the back of the garage roof, overlooking the street shrouded in dim streetlights.  

“Little more rebellious than I thought, huh?” he joked, tapping the flowerpot with his foot. He reached over and took the cigarette from your lips, plucking another fresh one from his pack and pushing them both between his teeth. With a zippo lighter engraved with a bat, he lit them both and passed one to you.   

“Thanks,” you smiled, taking your first lungful of nicotine. You sighed, content and relaxed.  

“Ain’t nothin’ like a cigarette after an orgasm, is there?” Mary chuckled, the cigarette bobbing between his lips as he spoke around it.   

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’ for dramatic effect.   

As you took another drag, you caught sight from the corner of your eye your parents shaking the hands and kissing the cheeks of his deputy mayor and wife. Their meal must be over, the goodbye pleasantries exchanged as your parents wave off the car pulling out of your driveway. You watch quietly as they turn and head back to the porch beneath you, out of sight from where you sat.   

But Mary isn’t watching them. He’s watching you , with a creased brow and a million questions swarming around his mind. It’s not until you turn to look back at him that you notice, and you feel like you’ve somehow been caught doing something you shouldn’t.  

“Alright, I gotta ask ‘cause this is killin’ me,” he said, taking another drag of his cigarette and mulling over how to word this without causing any kind of offense – something Mary usually got wrong. “What is it about me that you seem so attracted to?”  

His question caught you off guard, your brow creasing in confusion. “What do you mean?”  

“Well... I assume that in order to sleep with me – twice – you'd have to be somewhat attracted to me, right?” he shrugged. You nodded, urging him to continue, as if you still didn’t understand his question. “So, I guess what I’m asking is... what does a girl like you see in a guy like me?”  

Your expression darkened, an anger and defensiveness bubbling away inside you. This was exactly the kind of shit you expected; Mary had stereotyped you, just like the rest of them. You thought he might be different, that as an outcast himself who was stereotyped by the entire fucking town he might have given you the same leeway you had him. But no, here he was, putting you back in your neat little box.  

“What do you mean... a girl like me?”  

Mary noticed the change in your demeanour, but he was just being honest. He didn’t want to upset you, why would he? But he was overcurious, and perhaps, just a little too honest.  

“Oh, come on, doll... First night I met you, you were wearing that pretty little sundress and out with your ‘girlfriends’. Then tonight, I climb in through your window like some shitty high school movie and find your bedroom is covered in lace and frills and pink. You’ve got the trinkets and the pretty little ornaments... and your bed is covered in stuffed animals, like you’ve had that collection since you were a kid. You and I ain’t the same, we’re so polar opposite so logically, it doesn’t make sense,” he rambled. All the while, your blood boiled hotter and hotter, anger turning to rage.  

“I mean, you’re daddy’s little girl, so sweet and pretty and the town loves you. You’re too damn good for a ‘shit for brains’, ‘punk-ass kid’ like me.” Those had been direct quotes from a couple of cops who’d gotten to know Mary’s face over the years.   

“I am not ‘ daddy’s little girl’,” you seethed, “And you don’t know a fucking thing about me, Goore. You’re just like all of them, treating me like some fucking kid who can’t think for herself.”  

“I never said that, I just don’t understand why-” he started, but you cut him off.  

“No that’s just it, you don’t understand. That’s all people see of me, being his daughter...” you stood, shoving the cigarette between your teeth and walking to the edge of the roof, sitting there and dangling your feet over the edge. Mary stayed put for a second, bewildered and letting you cool off for a moment. Clearly, he’d struck a nerve. Guilt wracks through him, and he awkwardly rubs the back of his head, his hair still damp but now chilled in the night air.   

With a sigh, he holds his cigarette between his teeth and gets up, coming to sit down beside you without a word. He notes your scowl, and the way you avert your eyes from him.   

“So, go on... what’s the deal with your dad, then?” he asked, looking out ahead of him as he took another drag. He watches you fold your arms over your chest, the leather of his jacket squeaking as it rubs over itself.   

“Treats me like a kid, like I’m not a grown-ass woman with her own brain,” you sighed, looking down at your feet swinging over the edge of the garage. “I gotta be this perfect girl all the time, because that’s the image he created for me; the all-American, perfect family. It’s just part of his fucking political career. I don’t get a say, I never have.”  

Mary’s nose wrinkles as he thinks to himself, not quite understanding. Surely you were old enough to have your own mind, or at the very least, to redecorate.  

“Well, if you think that’s not you, why do you go along with it? You play the part very well...” he says, watching you from beside you.   

Your head snaps to look at him, a fresh anger brewing again, like someone had turned the heat right up on the stove.   

“You think so? Gee, thanks, Goore,” you mocked him in your best girl-ish, high-pitched bimbo voice.  

“I just meant-”   

“You don’t get it. Whatever. Why would you? I never asked you to give a fuck about my shit anyway.”  

Now Mary was getting pissed off, his mind working its way into overdrive as he looked at you and your little temper tantrum, thought about your life of privilege – something he’d never had. You had money, a big house, nice clothes, fucking bodyguards at the drop of a hat. And he’d had an alcoholic mother, a deadbeat father and a lifetime of people hating him for his love of metal and macabre. Your lives were total fucking parallels, and he couldn’t understand why you got so angry at your life when you had it all.  

So, he scoffed at you. “’Your shit’, huh? Sure, your struggle sound real tough, Barbie.”  

“Barbie?!” you shrieked, uncaring if someone had heard. “I’m fucking Barbie, now?”  

“Just seems to me like you don’t know privilege when you see it, doll. Even when it’s right under your nose.” He could hear it in his voice; he was being an asshole, he had no idea what your life was truly like, but he was so defensive of his own upbringing, his own issues that he wasn’t willing to see that you had any. To him, your life was perfect, and you were just being a brat.  

“Fuck you, Goore,” you spat through gritted teeth. Mary smacked his lips, nodding in anger.   

“Yep,” he said, shoving his cigarette between his teeth again, now burnt over halfway down. “Y’know what? I’m gonna go. This was fun, Barbie, but this Ken’s gotta split.” He slapped his hands against his thighs before swinging his legs up to the rooftop and standing, dusting himself off.   

“Yeah, maybe you should. Don’t think we’re exactly compatible...” you scowled, pulling your knees up to your chest as you smoked, refusing to look at him.   

He waits a moment, chewing over whether he should say anything else, try and fix this animosity and maybe even apologise. But he couldn’t bring himself to say the words... Not when he didn’t see what he’d done wrong. Instead, he crouched down beside you, holding his hand out. You turned to stare at it for a moment, wondering what on earth he wanted you to do. Did he expect you to hold it? To say sorry? To go with him?  

No, none of those.  

“My jacket, Barbie,” he deadpanned, curling his fingers in a ‘gimme’ motion.   

You didn’t speak, instead holding your cigarette between your teeth and pulling the leather from your body. The chill hit your skin immediately, but your stubbornness refused to let it show. Instead, you slammed the jacket back in his hand, and turned away from him.   

“There, we both got our shit back. Now you’ve got no reason to come back,” you told him.   

Mary shook his head, smacking his lips one more time before he headed over to the trellis he’d climbed up, and made his way back down, avoiding the windows and making sure he wouldn’t be caught when he climbed back over the fence.   

Just as he got to his van, he turned back around to see you climbing back through your window, shoving the frame closed and storming off into your room where he couldn’t see you. Mary shook his head with an eye roll, yanking his van door open and throwing his jacket into the passenger side before he climbed in and settled into his seat. He was about to turn the key in the ignition, to get the fuck out of there as quickly as possible, but he stopped himself.  

Instead, he slammed his palm against the steering wheel, cursing himself out.  

“Fucking idiot, man...” he chastised, throwing his head back against the battered headrest of his seat. He sat there for a while, replaying your conversation in his head. He thought of every single way that could have gone differently, how he could have handled that better rather than resorting to his usual defensive self.   

After about ten minutes of self-reflection – and frankly, self-loathing – he turned to look back at the bedroom window he’d climbed through that night, just in time to see your light switch off.  

What he didn’t know, was that you were still watching him from the darkness of your bedroom... or, at least, his van; parked where it had been all evening. He hadn’t even made a move to turn on his engine, sitting in the street in silence.   

But now, seeing your light switch off, Mary sighed to himself and found his keys to switch on the ignition. His engine roared to life, as did his stereo that was tuned to some kind of heavy metal. His headlights switched on, and you watched from your window as his van drove off into the night. Tears streaked down your face, and you became overwhelmed by that suffocating feeling of your only morsel of freedom running away from you, after you’d managed to push him away.   

You’d never felt more trapped in your all-American dream-life than you did now.  

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8

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[scribefindegil]

Okay okay okay the thing IS. The anime has Dimple saying, “Well if you die and can’t pass on, at least we’ll have each other” TO MOB. Which I understand; the Mob and Dimple friendship is hugely important to Mogami arc and to the show as a whole, and it works as this sort of dark-humored aside that, while snarky, reads as a genuine attempt at comfort. This arc is a turning point, but we’ve already seen a lot of development in Dimple and Mob’s relationship.

BUT. In the manga he doesn’t say it to Mob. He says it to Reigen. And while it’s harder to read tone in written text, especially when you’re dealing with translation, the panel is extremely somber. There’s no silly Dimple expression like in the anime; it’s a close crop of the back of Reigen and Dimple’s heads as they look away. “If you die and can’t get into heaven, let’s be friends again down here” is a SERIOUS OFFER. Dimple’s been complaining about Reigen non-stop and snarking at him and their relationship up until this point has been pretty combative. But here he believes that Reigen’s going to die--to be killed by the same person that took out the last group of people Dimple was at all close with--and he offers companionship.

And! Sorry i talk about this All The Time but it’s so important to manga!Mogami arc: this happens right as Reigen is trying to convince Mob to leave. Ostensibly he asks him to “get help,” but it’s obvious in context that he thinks everyone in that basement is going to get slaughtered and is lying to Mob in hopes that the kid will at least save himself. Reigen gets into a lot of dangerous situations and isn’t always great at self-preservation, but there are vanishingly few occasions where he actually thinks he’s not going to make it out. But this is one of them.

And it’s such a strange sort of comfort, but it is comfort, for the resident ghost to say, “Hey, even if you do die this doesn’t have to be the end.” To say “If you don’t know where to go, you can stick with me.” To offer, in the translation I read, friendship, even though that’s something he won’t admit he wants for himself until much, much later in the story.

Anyway this is why I lose it every time I see That One Panel Everyone Laughs At For Being Kind Of Gay.

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

GOD chapter 59 was SO GOOD n i have a lot to say so sending an ask instead of leaving it on the post.

i /love/ when you make things hyper detailed, because your shading techniques are so much fun to sit n stare at and soak in for a while. that being said, the coloring of the wine spilling is what does it for me this time. it still would have been really cool in bw, but not as cool as seeing all the shades of red over the dark blue bg. you did the glass really well too!! I don't think there's a noticeable difference between the wine color inside and outside the glass which is fine bc it's clear, so it RLY makes me appreciate the lighting you have around the glass rim to show the edge in contrast. that tiny little detail makes the image for me. stellar work. i love it

also i do wanna throw in appreciation for the handwritten serif. super well done at first glance it did look like you'd jus typed it out. idk what texture you have on the brush you use for words but it's rly nice to look at up close.

i think the color kinda tipped me off but i waffled bc i couldn't remember if either of his parents spoke in serif font and was a bit daunted to dig thru 50+ chapters to confirm who it was if it didn't turn out to be them. i'm glad i looked at your tags tho haha saved me the trouble. what a way to end the act too!! i read this one on my phone and was scrolling thru the images at full size and after four or so i kept expecting it to cut off. it was a very pleasant surprise to have it keep going, worth the wait to have a longer chapter :)

maybe it jus wasn't meant to be a la sabo getting the letter from sally. it might have to be stelly after all tho there are things that come before then. what a bad time to have one or both of his parents speak to him for the first time that night. oof can't wait for the next act lets goooo

Oh wowww what a beautifully long review!

Thanks so much im glad you like how it turned out, i’m really happy with it, too! Ive never drawn fluids like this before, but i really needed this page to have that extra kick because it was such a short one.

Because i couldnt figure out how to make this moment look slow mo with multiple different panels on one page, I really wanted to make a piece that is like,, frozen in time instead.

A page like this, you can keep on it as long as you’d like. You can make it as slow mo as you want it to be.

The serif lettering is that of outlook’s!

I dont know if you can see the difference between this and my usual handwriting, but it’s supposed to look taller. Higher up. Neater. Cleaner. (Still my handwriting though so like so actually neat or clean, but you know like,,, in comparison to the norm.)

His dad only talks in one scene, and his mother has never said anything yet, so i dont blame you if you couldnt find it. In my. Large repertoire of chapters ive accumulated.

I definitely felt the same about the pages when drawing them. But probably the opposite feeling lol. Mine was more like “ugh i forgot theres so many. How many more of these do I have to get through??? How did i do this the first act ending with 11 pages???”

Im so glad you guys are on the edge of your seats with the letter :)

Thanks for the ask!

[sacchiri]

I recently bought the jp volumes of Hellsing along with the guidebook, and since I'm reading the series in its native language for the first time I might as well share some random things that stood out to me in no particular order.

This isn't meant to be an analysis of translation differences, I'm too lazy for that. Also it's been 12 years since I've watched the anime and read the low quality fan scans of the manga so some of these comments are just "Lol, forgot this was a thing"

Volume 1

... I really want to know who this guy is at the beginning, yelling at Alucard in overly familiar language to "Get your shit together!" and "You're the only one we can count on!!". We know from the style of speech that it's a dude, probably just some Hellsing rando, and maybe it's not all that strange since he has probably been working with the same soldiers for years--but it's still funny.

"I know, it's just so nice out :("

..The way "HELLSING Organization" is spelled out like this reminds me that apparently the name is supposed to be an acronym. No really.

...

God they're so silly.

Now that I think about it, the only thing Seras has done this chapter since being turned into a vampire is say "I'm sorry" over and over.... girl you got shot in the lung, why are you apologizing

Not a huge difference, but what Integra actually says here is "Leaving a corpse here for 20 years... You're a terrible person too, Father" and not "What were you thinking, Father?" as the Dark Horse translation suggests (note the lack of question mark in the raw version). I thought that might be of interest to some.

Something else I thought was interesting is the first line Alucard ever says to Integra, and how uncharacteristically polite he sounds.

O-kega wa gozaimasenka- That's two honorific 御's back to back! (He even said them in kanji, even Walter isn’t that straightlaced and he’s literally the butler.) This is also the only time Alucard uses this overly flowery gentlemanly language with her, and good thing too because it would be so annoying if he spent the whole manga ending his sentences with ~gozaimasu.

What I'm trying to get at is, after seeing this sentence in the Japanese version, I'm like 100% sure he actually heard her when she was mumbling to herself about hoping to find a knight in shining armor, and he was totally going the extra mile in playing into that role for their first encounter. Which is kind of sweet.

Lol they misspelled Alucard on the top left... or rather, they incorrectly spelled it right?

One would normally expect Alucard to be written アルカード, and indeed pixiv dict lists アーカード as a misspelling (the u sound is weak in Japanese, so it's easy to mishear arukādo as ākādo). Hirano was definitely aware of the correct spelling though, since he used it in the pilot chapter and in his old character sheets. It was only when the manga officially began that he switched to the アーカード spelling. I doubt it was because of copyright issues because there is already a long precedent of vampire characters named アルカード in various old manga, OVA, and games in Japan that have coexisted without issue (like this guy Hirano mentions in volume 1's afterword).

Most likely Hirano simply thought it looked better, or was a means of differentiating his character from the others somehow. It certainly makes life easier for Japanese fans searching for fanart since アーカード is only going to bring up Hellsing and not the Castlevania character.

Jan Valentine even pokes fun at the spelling discrepancy later in volume 2, but since there wasn't a good way of expressing this in English it was left untranslated.

(Speaking of spelling inconsistencies, there's a lot of minor details I'm noticing now, like half the time the furigana for 吸血鬼 is written バンパイア and the other half it's ヴァンパイア... anyway)

Um, just noticed literally everyone's wearing glasses What should I do

Hirano's habit of jotting random comments underneath his panels is one of the underrated perks of reading the manga

The Dark Horse translation almost makes it sound like she's looking forward to seeing this battle play out, while in the Japanese she simply sounds apprehensive. Almost as if she's worried about them? And she's going out on the field personally to make sure nothing bad happens? Aww

Ok this is a weird tangent, but I just noticed the scans of the Dark Horse version I've been looking at use a slightly larger image range than the Japanese version does. It was only noticeable when I got to this part:

The second image is what the Japanese version of the scan looks like and I can confirm that this is what it looks like in my physical volume as well. You shouldn't be seeing the messy borders of the inking on the bottom like that.

Manga manuscripts are set up so that there are a few millimeters of bleed border around each page. You're supposed to color and line all the way up to (4) while keeping in mind that printing and paper cutting may result in the image being trimmed up to (3).

Either Hirano didn't color his lines all the way to (4) (this man has been drawing manga for years but this is Hirano we're talking about so it's very possible), or Dark Horse didn't honor the original bleed borders of the manuscript. I'm kind of leaning towards the former since there was a Hellsing exhibit in Japan a few years back where you could look at Hirano's original manuscripts and there's one where you can clearly see that he spilled a mug of tea or coffee across the entire page

Anyway, it's weird, and I'm curious to see if someone that owns a physical copy in English can confirm whether theirs actually looks like that. It's volume 1, page 141.

[a-whispering-echo]

thinking about the band boys getting married-

For one, obviously they legally CANT get all married to EACH OTHER, so, i imagine what theyd do, is pair up, have a 'joint' wedding day, where Horror would stay the only 'non wedded' one because he doesnt want to risk loosing his disability benefits in he married, if, god forbit, they didnt all work out, leaving him broke - SO- pair up, have all matching rings, including Horror in it, have Dust and Cross, and Killer and Nightmare (or some variation of that) get married to each other, on the same day, and the same place, at the same time, and ALL call each other husbands.

How many of them would WANT to get married? i think Cross would 100% want to- i think hed LOVE the idea of calling his long time partners his 'husband' - dude would SO cry on his wedding day.

I think Nightmare would too - maybe not as much as Cross does, but i think he'd like things like the sharing assest, and for their family being LEGALLY tied together, for things like inheritance reasons, hospital visits, possibly children based things if they went down that road. i think itdd be a HUGE relief off his shoulders for them to know they'd all be safe if something happened. Remember, Nightmare comes from an old money, rich history, and even WITH the band making a large amount of money, i think he'd appreciate the safety net should thinks suddenly take a drop.

Dust honestly couldnt give two shits. dude would show up to his wedding in a hoodie and sweats if his partners didnt force him to dress nice.

Killer wouldnt care about the actual MARRIAGE bit, they'd just want the big party and the pretty outfits that come with them. Hed love to do those silly wedding traditions, like tossing the bouquet, cutting the cake, wearing something so fancy it makes heads turn...

Horror would be much the same as Cross, i think. even if hes not LEGALLY getting married, i think hed be over the MOON with calling them all his husbands.

What would they wear? well-

Nightmare dresses so formal ALL THE TIME, so i think he'd want something that is MORE than just his everyday suits. something moon themed, obviously, nice cufflinks, maybe something with a nice dark overcoat that drapes across the floor; maybe hed go more 'vampire' with it. he'd want to look like ROYALTY. maybe hed even wear a crown.

Cross would want to go fairly standard an traditional, i think. just a nice tux, nice an simple, but fancy and elegant at the same time. i dont think he'd care what he wore really, hes not here for the dress up or the party, but the end result. maybe Killer convinces him to wear something a little more 'whine night' themed. maybe a cross-over panelled jacket, with chains and gems over it in his pocket, maybe a sash - i think Cross would do whatever his partners want, fundamentally, cus he knows it would make them happy.

Horror would be fairly boring too, i think. maybe just some suit. though, with his -as the orphanage and fostor system told him- scottish heritage, maybe he'd wear a kilt. Horror would be VERY fond of tartan, i think. and hes always been font of a good edgy rip in his clothing, so maybe hed go for something purposefully distressed - again, maybe with the chains, something a bit punk but still formal.

Now, despite me saying earlier that Dust wouldnt give a shit, i think, after so much though has been put in his husbands-to-be's outfits, hed start feeling a bit embarrassed that he didnt really put much thought into his own. i think, eventually, he would decide to wear a hanbok for his wedding, have his hair pulled back into a lovely pin up, with pins and such, maybe even go for some pale foundation, and rosy cheeks, because he KNOWS it'd make his partners swoon. i think that seeing as he going korean traditional with it mostly, hed want SOMETHING a little more western too, to join BOTH sides of his heritage. maybe he wears a veil, in pretty white; something to cover his head in the way that brings him comfort, and still look 'wedding' - maybe he wears a hanbok in white and gold, still with the more traditional red and blue elements in it still, but primarily white, just to say 'yes, im one of the grooms, thanks'

Killer... oh, Killer. i think Killer would get SO antsy over what hes going to wear. its his BIG DAY, and he NEEDS to look PERFECT! i think hed work himself into a tizzy trying to decide on suit, dress, style, cut - that hed freak and have to have his partners calm him down and work through it. his first thought is suit, but then he feels like thats too BORING, and not THEM enough! so i think it'd then start considering dresses - but GOD so many STYLES! something more slim sitting and sleek? something more poofy, like a princess dress> and THEN theres the problem of wedding dressed being designed for feminine body times, of which they do NOT have, so nothing FITS when hes trying things on! and then, there the idea of WHITE, because, like, he looks GREAT in white, dont get hims wrong! but at the same time, Killers VERY antitraditional, and the white was always about the purity and virginity of the bride, of which he is NEITHER - so-? NO. i think eventually, hed decide to get a custom made outfit for itself. He eventually decides on a dress, but with a few modifications. it want leather in there; a nice leather bodice, with layers of black leather in the skirt, with white lace over the top, a nice long white train to the dress, that spattered with red splashes to look like blood, he wants chains, and studs, and a suit jackets over the bodice, he wants a veil with 'blood splattered' over it he wants it torn, with a spiky headdress, and chairs dripping down from ot over his face, he wants something that screams KILLLER - something original, something pretty and feminine, but something rough and edgy and masculine too. THATS what he wants.

and i think he'd have to get it custom made too - which means it'd cost a FORTUNE, which, logically they can afford, and would realistically barely make a DENT in their savings, but still, Dust who grew up homeless, eating from trash cans and saving every penny, would GAG at the thought of spending 380,000$ on a fucking DRESS-

[vaaaaaiolet]

“Where are we anyway?” you ask, pulling him to the present. “Maine.” Leon breathes. “Why?” “They’ve um…got good lobster. You haven’t had lobster if it’s not from here.” “Leon.” He lets out a hum, tacking a question mark on its tail end as he stares at the wall. “You remember you’re allergic to seafood, right?”

Leon moves away from the place where he spent 20 years pining for you after it all gets taken away from him in a flash. This is the story of a particularly dull morning in which no boxes are unpacked, no walls are painted, and he accomplishes nothing.

f / m, emotional hurt, hurt / no comfort, implied / referenced character death

i watched one day on netflix and this is my take on that one scene near the end, leon is dexter you are emma, i hate myself for writing this too

word count: 940 // read on ao3

A lull – despite the chaos that comes from unpacking – seeps into Leon’s bones. 

It’s the first time he’s allowed his mind to take the wheel from his body in a while. He’s used to it being the other way around, his body chugging along, all relentless go go go, but this time, something at the back of his head urges him to give in. Inner voice, subconscious, whatever the hell psychologists call it.

He ought to sit this one out. 

The bedroom wall cradles his back as well as wood paneling and wallpaper can as he slides down its length. In the quiet stillness only early morning can bring, Leon watches as swirls of dust illuminate in the air. The hypnotizing dance of particles flying out from his half-unpacked boxes pulls his mind every-which-way, making his eyes furrow and his head hurt. There’s too much dust, too much he’s doing and somehow not enough, he really should be working on the downsta-

“Rather grim photo of me,” your soft voice snaps him out of his muddied thoughts.

He turns his head to see you sitting next to him, knees pulled up to your chest. Your finger points to a framed picture on a shelf he’d set up yesterday with Claire. The picture had been one of the only things she’d gotten out from his boxes before he’d snapped at her; told her in no uncertain terms that she was messing with his process.

You frown, lowering your finger. “My eyes are all screwed open and I look crazy.”

Leon snorts in response, shifting to shrink the space between you two. It’s the most beautiful picture he’s ever taken of you. 

He wishes he was out of the frame so he could see even more of you in that white dress, running along the Aegean shoreline with him. The dress whose hem he’d fingered under the velvet dark of night as he itched to slip it off your shoulders. Your eyes were open and full of stars. Full of him, too.

“Where are we anyway?” you ask, pulling him to the present.

“Maine.” Leon breathes.

“Why?” 

“They’ve um…got good lobster. You haven’t had lobster if it’s not from here.”

“Leon.”

He lets out a hum, tacking a question mark on its tail end as he stares at the wall.

“You remember you’re allergic to seafood, right?” 

God, and he groans. Puts his head into his hands and rubs his now-bruising temples until he feels the veins shift around. Can’t you let him have this one thing? 

“Maine’s not all seafood,” he mutters petulantly back, “it’s got…” Damn it, the only thing he can think of are Cape Cod kettle chips and the lighthouse on the bag. Is Cape Cod even in Maine? “Maine’s got pretty lighthouses.”

“I’m sure you came for the lighthouses, babe.” you chuckle.

“I just…” Words evade his dry mouth. He settles on dropping his head on your shoulder instead, slowly and carefully like a teenager making the first move on a movie date. You throw out a hand, carelessly gesturing towards the innards of Leon’s moving supplies strewn all over the floor.

“I don’t mind, you know,” you say after a beat, “if you just got rid of it all.” 

“What?”

The same anger he felt when Claire rifled through the moving boxes with your name written on them surges through Leon again, and he picks his head back up to look at you in disbelief. 

“No.” He says stubbornly.

“Le-”

He cuts you off with a tired glare. There’s no bite behind the gray-blue of the eyes you once believed could see right through you. 

“I could never do that.” he finally whispers.

He always thought his eyes did the talking for him. This isn’t your fault, Leon tries to make them say this time, it’s mine. I never told you what you needed to hear when you needed it. I know you wrote poetry for me. God, I read it all. I still have the journals your bumbling idiot of an ex dropped off at our house. You can still put your head in the hollow of my back if you try, I’ll let you do it whenever you want, just please. Please don’t make me get rid of what you left behind. 

“You’re actually quite gorgeous in that picture, you know?” he interjects his own barrage of telepathic apologies. “You’ve always been gorgeous.”

The smile that blooms on your features at his words is one that’s arguably more stunning than the one in the picture, but Leon won’t tell you. He commits it to memory instead. A safe place where you won’t see the flaws in yourself. It’s the place you live in these days. He thinks you understand anyway because you brush your hand over his and give it three short squeezes. 

One: I’m thinking of you, two: I miss you, three: I love you. 

“I didn’t really appreciate it at the time.” Your words taste bitter in his mouth even though you laugh.

“I did.”

“Sometimes.” Leon hates how small your voice has become.

He sits there for several minutes, back against the wall, relishing in the weight of your palm on the back of his hand until the sensation becomes nothing but warmth, and then a ghost of that, until it becomes nothing at all. The picture of you laughing with your eyes wide open watches him steadfastly from its perch on top of his shelf.

Eyes wide, alive, in love. That’s how he’d like to remember you, he thinks.

Organizing the downstairs can wait just as Leon once did.

[healerfromhell]

On The Night Nurse

hi dead boy detectives fandom, i’m here to give you the tea on the night nurse because i cannot watch her incredible lore get overlooked any longer. this post was initially a thread on my twitter but i wanted to cross post :3

long post under the cut

DOOM PATROL

we first see this iteration of the night nurse in what ruth described as a “backdoor pilot” in s3e3 of doom patrol. she’s only on screen for 3 minutes but in that time there’s an insane amount of implications in terms of her abilities.

she’s shown to have telekinesis, as well as shifting her appearance into a more “demonic” form, including her mouth seemingly splitting in half. finally, as the doom patrol escapes, she projectile vomits acid onto them which later turns them into living-dead style zombies!

it’s up for debate whether or not this is canon to the dead boys show, HOWEVER, in terms of asa herself we’re not given any reason to believe she isn’t functionally the same, even if this IS an alternate universe.

as such, it is likely that the night nurse possesses these abilities in dbd and we simply haven’t seen them yet. furthermore, she’s already canonically an “eternal, trans-dimensional being”, so while this is a different universe, it could potentially be a single, dimension-hoping night nurse.....

COMIC HISTORY

here’s where we get into the good stuff. it’s pretty much agreed upon that the night nurse is an adaptation of the comic character “nightmare nurse”, also known as asa the healer. she’s a demon of an unknown age and she’s absolutely delicious as a character.

asa first appears in the phantom stranger, but she’s most notably present in justice league dark. during this it’s explicitly stated that john constantine is her ex-boyfriend and that she’s sapphic! let's go through some of the most important connections we get from these comics.

Constantine

we see her make several references to her history with constantine, but she’s also pretty loud about how her priorities are, first and foremost, her job, as you can see here, which i think ties in nicely to her pendanticism in dbd — all she wants to do is her job.

Zatanna

here are a few panels in which she hits on zatanna, then kisses her, then says she’s a much better kisser than constantine. girl kisser asa you’ll always be famous.

by the way, that creature with the red eyes? yeah, that's asa. that's her demon form that she appears in after enduring the blackmare curse with constantine.

Alice Winter

it is revealed that asa used to work as a nursemaid for a sickly woman named alice, but eventually she decided to possess alice instead. this is the body we see her in throughout her comic appearances.

however, it turns out asa is the only thing keeping alice alive. when this becomes evident, alice invites asa back into her body for good.

Other Appearances

asa is also seen a few times in other comic runs, i’m just gonna add some of my favourites here.

Suicide Squad

i love her character design here and i think her ability to remove trauma like a cancerous growth is a nice tease at how she can literally go into charles’ head and watch his trauma in dbd

The Phantom Stranger

this is from issue 8 of the phantom stranger and there’s several reasons i love it. firstly, LOOK AT HER.

second, let’s go queer demon who enjoys threesomes! you’re an icon, asa. third, apollo and panacea. oh, apollo and panacea. we’re about to get tinfoil hat-y for this last bit.

FINAL THOUGHTS

so you might’ve noticed, up until this point asa’s mentioned having sworn an oath, but that panel has her outright stating she was actually FORCED into it by the gods. we also get a hint at this in jld, though they don’t explicitly name apollo and panacea.

“asa” quite literally means “healer”. her given name; every time somebody addresses her, they are calling for a healer. that cannot be coincidental. it makes me wonder if she even HAD a name before this oath was forced upon her, or if she was just… a creature. a monster.

perhaps the gods saw fit to name her asa as a means of throwing salt in the wound. not only have they branded her, even her name is a reminder of her new purpose. it gives a lot of weight to the numerous occasions on which she says that she is, no matter what, a healer.

because regardless of where she is, what skin she wears, no matter what… she has that oath, and her name is healer. there’s no escaping that for her. it’s the fundamental core of who she is.

and as a final, final thought i would like to draw attention to this casting because hooooooly shit. perfect.

anyway if anyone cares to see any more of my never-ending thoughts about asa you can find all my head canons on the carrd i have for my rp portrayal or my ao3 where i will no doubt be posting writings about her :3

[ajvocals43]

could you write one where dean is just having a rough day and doesn’t want to be alone when he goes to sleep but also doesn’t want to ask the reader to cuddle him because he’s dean💀 like a little fluff and comfort

This is so cute. I'm not used to writing comfort for others but I tried. It kind of took a turn from where I was going originally, but I hope you like it all the same.

What I'm Here For

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count:

Warnings: Mentions of PTSD, slight swearing

A/n: This was shorter than I thought it was going to be and honestly, I got excited about a part of it that I actually ended up using for a different fic so that's another thing.

Ever since Dean’s been back he’s been off. Which is to be expected I guess, I mean… he was in hell. Believe me, Sam and I would never forgive ourselves for not being able to bring him back. I don't know how he survived as long as he did down there. It was to be expected that he’d be pretty traumatized. He tries to play it off but we can see it. The fear behind his eyes, the sadness and the anger. That last one was pretty apparent; specifically when anyone tried to get him to talk about that time. He was always on edge. He closed himself off from us. Until he snapped at Sam which was worrying; because if he wouldn't talk to Sam, he surely wouldn't talk to me. 

 Dean and I’s bond was strong but not as strong as his bond was with his brother. Anyone with common sense knew that the brothers’ bond was stronger than pretty much anything. Our relationship was…complicated to say the least. We both knew that there was something under the surface, there were looks and kisses and…other things… but with everything our lives entailed, we were both too scared to identify it. But even then, apparently we were not great at hiding those feelings, as we’d been told by others.

Multiple times. 

Today had been a great example of that as tension surrounded the house that only the two of us occupied. Sam and Bobby had left earlier on to head to the local library, only to be caught in one of the biggest storms I’d ever seen. They’d called a little earlier to say that they were staying to help with crowd control and they’d head out when the storm passed. Which left me and Dean at Bobby’s house with not much to do. We’d busied ourselves with research on the apocalypse and whatever we could get our hands on about the angels.

Until the power went out. 

Now I was sitting in the kitchen in the dark at… 12am waiting for Dean to get back from checking the main breaker panel out back. The only light came from the fire in the study and the few candles across the floor to ensure that we didn't fall on our faces. It was cold and rainy and windy and dark and he’d refused to let me go with him. It wasn’t a big deal but I didn't want to just sit here like some kind of damsel. But that was a fight I wasn't in the mood to pick tonight.

 A gust of cold wind and rain blew through the house as the door swung open in front of Dean’s shadowed figure. And straight out of a movie, a bolt of lightning shot across the sky, visible through the open doorway. And Dean was just standing there. 

“Is that supposed to be scaring me?” I called from my place in the entryway.

No answer.

“Would you come inside? It's freezing out there!” 

Still no answer.

“Dean?” I was getting impatient. And cold. 

Another lightning bolt cracked across the sky and it was then that I noticed Dean’s figure shaking. It hit me then. “Oh my g- Dean!” I rushed toward him, pulling him into the house and kicking the door shut behind him. I hadn't thought about the PTSD the storm would’ve caused for Dean. His movements were jerky and stiff as I helped him peel the drenched coat and flannel from his arms. I moved him over to the fireplace and went to the kitchen to find something hot to drink. 

 Sometime later I was walking back into the study with two steaming mugs. “Thankfully, Bobby has a gas stove.” I announced. Dean turned around in time for me to hand him one of the mugs. “Careful, it's hot.” 

“Thanks, mom.” Dean grumbled, blowing steam off the top. I chuckled, relieved that he was getting back to normal. It was quiet for a while…well until Dean took a sip. “Ugh. What is this?” 

 I laughed, “it’s tea, Dean.” 

“It’s gross is what it is.” He said, putting his cup down. 

“It’s healthier than alcohol.” I said, taking a sip of my own only to spit it back out. “Nope, that's disgusting.” I put my mug down next to Dean’s, laughing.  

I was relieved to see the tension start to ease from his frame as he joined me in my laughter. “I didn't even know Bobby had tea.” 

“Yeah…probably not the best choice on my part.” I leaned back next to Dean. Because Bobby’s couch was so damn old, I sunk in further than I thought I would, but neither of us said anything. We both shifted around a little before we got comfortable. 

 It was quiet for a while after that. I wasn't going to prod at Dean about the elephant in the room. He would talk about it when he was ready. Plus, I was not in the mood to get into another fight with him right now. We were all the other had for the moment since there was no power and nobody nearby. There wasn't any danger nearby and it was getting late. We both should have headed to bed but I didn't say anything for a while. 

 Until I realized I was starting to fall asleep on the couch. And so was he. We were snuggled pretty close at this point but neither of us mentioned it. I certainly wasn't going to complain about being this close to his warm body. 

"You should go to bed." I said quietly.

“What? No. I’m good.” The exhaustion was slurring his words. But no way was I leaving Dean. That storm was still raging outside. If anything, it’d gotten worse. Dean might’ve acted like he was okay but that didn't mean I had to. He was exhausted but I knew that he wouldn't sleep like this. His nightmares were bad enough and that was if he could fall asleep in the first place. 

"Dean."

 “I’m fine,” he insisted. More lightning lit up the sky, followed by a loud rumbling of thunder and I felt Dean stiffen beside me. I knew by this point that physical contact was the way to get through to him when he was scared. I tried grabbing his hand that rested on his leg but it didn't seem like enough. So I let go and stood up. 

"What are you doing?" he asked.

 “Lay down,” I said. He wasn't going to go to bed by himself. If I left him alone, he would probably just drink and wait for Bobby and Sam. 

"Y/n-"

“Shut up and lay down.” I insisted. “On your side.” I corrected.

The fear was still there but now it was mostly covered with confusion. But he complied, only jumping slightly when more thunder rolled outside. I hesitated for a second but then laid down next to him. I wrapped my arms around him, hoping that he didn't push me away. Well, physically at least.

It took him a second but eventually Dean pulled me into him, tangling our limbs so I couldn't tell where exactly I ended and he began. But I felt him relax again, breathing a sigh into my hair. “Thank you.” he murmured.

 “Don't worry about it.” I said back quietly. “It’s what I’m here for.” I nuzzled my face into his neck, bringing us as close as I could. All I could hope for was that this brought Dean as much comfort as it brought me. Not that I’d tell him but I cared for him more than I had for most people in my life. A lot more than I thought I would. I would do anything to help him. Always.

Masterlist

[i-eat-worlds]

Starcross Chapter 2

Unboxing time!

Content: aftermath of abuse, descriptions of injuries, medical whump, past non-con body mod, broken bones, brief mentions of fictional politics, brief dehumanization, non-sexual nudity, brief mentions of urinary catheters

Free Space, AFS Starcross, 4/5/4763 Ziar peered down into the species containment unit, eyebrows furrowed as she looked at the person confined inside. She turned to her captain. “I’m going to need you to leave, Veya.”

The person was entirely nude, and their body was covered with a seemingly endless number of big, dark bruises. Several tubes protruded from their body, attached to reservoirs of nourishment, fluids, and oxygen, as well as another to remove waste, all responsible for keeping them alive in the tiny chamber. It would be an involved process to get them detached and woken up, and neither of them needed an audience for that.

Behind her, Veya shifted. Ziar could tell she was uncomfortable with the idea of a stranger aboard the ship, but she’d live. The infirmary was her domain, and no one else’s. “I’ll keep you updated. Promise. If there’s some sort of fun new novel parasite, I’ll let it eat me first.”

“Alright.” She chuckled a little bit, turning on her heel to leave. Ziar heard her stop to grab her weapon before thumbing up the stairs to the third level.

“Let’s get you out of there.” Her eyes flicked back over to the display panel, checking their vital signs once more. It gave their species as Human. They were one of the rarer species of the galaxy, and Ziar wasn’t overly familiar with them. However, their vitals seemed to be within normal limits, and the SCU wasn’t screaming loudly at her, so they were probably not awful.

It had been nearly a decade since she had last dealt with stasis units, but waking someone was a hell of a lot easier to manage than induction, so she wasn’t going to complain. She disconnected the feeding and hydration lines, though she left the port connecting device alone. The catheter also stayed in place, though she unattached the collection bag. It was mostly full, and Ziar was glad that they’d gotten to them when they did.

She looked at the panel again, and was surprised to find that Yera had splurged and bought an automatic transfer. All it took was pressing a few buttons to have the levitators float the person from the unit up to a bed. She still had to lug the ventilator around, but that was much preferred to having to carry a person. If Ziar was being honest, though, the person didn’t look like they weighed all that much.

The infirmary’s harsh lighting left nothing hidden as she methodically worked her way down from their head. Their hair had been completely shaved, only a thin layer of fuzz left behind. A dark, bruised ring rimmed their left eye, but the orbit seemed intact. On the right side of their neck, several Yeran letters and numerals were etched into their skin. KM-4682, if she was reading them correctly. Her stomach dropped as she moved on to examining the front side of their chest and abdomen. Their ribs crunched beneath her hands as he felt them, but their chest rose and fell as a single unit and their lungs sounded clear. Shallow cuts and old scars flecked their chest, along with several small bruises. Their left ankle was swollen concerningly, and Ziar was worried it was broken. Blood flow was good, but it should’ve been immobilized before the put into stasis.

On their frontside, that was the most severe injury she could find, but obvious evidence of mistreatment was overwhelming. The skin around their wrists was chapped from over-tight restraints, same as their ankles. And, combined with the electrowhip burns on their thighs, it reminded her of Adaxia in all the wrong ways.

She took a deep breath in, rolling her shoulders back before queueing the bed to roll them onto their side. The electrowhip scars were thicker here, criss-crossing over each other like a knot, but they were much more faded than the ones on their thighs.

Closer inspection soon revealed why.

A thin line of metal protruded from the back of their neck, terminating in some sort of cable port. Further down, on their lower back, was the same device, though a little more robust. They were spinal implants.

What the actual fuck?

Yera was screwing around with some poor soul's nerves. Sure prosthetic technology had advanced, but that had to be absolutely angonzing. What purpose was it even supposed to serve? Had they just done it to see if they could?

Then again, she shouldn’t have expected better from Yera. Or anything Gralla in general.

Furthermore, it was obvious that they hadn’t been taken care of properly. The skin around both was red and puffy, though she didn’t see any discharge. Yet. The implants should’ve been covered with another layer of medical grade, antiseptic dermafibran. It wasn’t like it was too early. She could see where the other incisions had healed completely. Leaving them open like that was unbelievably negligent. She forced herself to take another breath. Anger was not the ally she needed right now.

Just as she laid the person back down at, the intercom beeped. “There's a cruiser approaching us. We need to punch it.” Veya’s voice was steel, despite the stress she had to be under. “You’ve got two minutes while we charge to get stuff tied down.”

Great.

She had just gotten the straps across over their abdomen when the ship’s lightspeed engines revved, and Starcross flung itself off into space.

***

Free Space, YSS Victory, 4/5/4763

Anodyn tisked, hissing at the secretary on the other end of the communicator. “What do you mean it went down?”

The secretary tried to respond, but she cut them off. “I don’t care for whatever excuses he told you to give. I want it made very clear to him that if the asset is not returned, he will pay for his mistakes.”

“Yes Ma’am,” They said, discomfort edging its way into their voice despite their attempts to hide it.

She cut the connection without another word, frustration rolling off her in waves. The program was months behind schedule due to technical issues, and now this. While KM-4682’s implants had been a failure, there was still much to learn from its body. She couldn’t afford this, not if she wanted to keep the program up and running.

Her hand slammed into the lightweight metal of her desk, pain radiating up from her knuckles. This was not how her life’s work was going to be remembered, as a failure. She would bring Yera mech technology, and nothing would stop her. Not the imbeciles she was forced to work with, not time, not money, not the incomprehensible distances between the stars. Nothing.

Smiling, she stood up, straightening her uniform jacket. The door to her office wirred as she left, heading towards the bridge. She would hunt down KM-4682 herself.

And she would not fail, no matter the price.

Taglist: @whump-snob @whump-kia @itsoundslikeafury @emmettland @blackberry-bloody

@whumpacabra @cepheusgalaxy @softvampirewhump @my-little-versaille @pigeonwhumps

@whumped-by-glitter @snaillamp @rainydaywhump @platysaurus @whumpy-daydreams

@whiskygoldwings

[ammonitetheartist]

Welcome to paradise

(Also yeh I used the Eldritch Uzi design by @electrozeistyking bc. cool 👉👈)

EhehrheEHEHEHHEHEHE-

Judging by when I ended up finishing this, ig here’s your (early/on time/late depending on your timezone) Christmas gift (or general gift if you don’t celebrate it) from me: PAIN

I’ve recently been noodling with the idea of Cyn’s original consciousness being in a little mindspace of some kind, and then I started noodling with the concept I saw brought up by this comic: of the Solver taking Uzi as a host like her, aaand this was born!

Also I was originally gonna draw the panels individually, but since tumblr doesn’t have a way to exceed 10 images on mobile (as far as I know), I had to get creative

Edit: ghgghhhhGHHG WHY IS TUMBLR NOT LETTING ME LINK THE COMIC HHHHGGGGGRRGG- it’s the “She’s Gone” comic by the person I tagged near the top; you can find it in their top posts

Putting the image ID under the cut bc holy fricj-

[Image ID: A comic featuring catified designs of Uzi and Cyn from Murder Drones. The first drawing shows the first four panels; a front view of Uzi in her Solver mode over a snowy night sky, wings outstretched and a yellow X over her visor, then the same drawing with a perspective blur, then a black background with a yellow flash, like a TV turning off, and finally a completely black background.

The fifth panel shows a blurry drawing of Cyn looking down to the viewer, a black blur effect around the edges. The third drawing shows the sixth and seventh panels, starting with Cyn standing over Uzi, who is lying down, followed by Uzi jerking back in surprise upon noticing Cyn.

Panels 5-14 feature a dark, mottled yellow-green background with faint, pale yellow polygons of varying sizes to signify the mindspace. In addition, both Cyn and Uzi’s designs in this mindspace become solid color, with colored lineart. Cyn’s text is yellow and Uzi’s is purple.

The 8th panel shows Uzi on the right side of the drawing with a confused expression, uttering ‘Wh-‘. The 9th panel shows her head whip around in surprise. The 10th panel shows the background giving way to a drawing of Solver Uzi in the center, with her usual colors (very darkened), a glitch effect, and a yellow AbsoluteSolver symbol over her visor.

The 11th panel shows mindspace Uzi with a shocked, lost expression as she mutters ‘Wha…’ in a small voice. In the 12th panel, she turns to the left side of the screen, adding ‘Wh- where…’

The 13th panel shows Cyn sitting on the left side of the screen, a blank expression on her face. In the 14th and final panel, she wears an empty smile, and a dark tear slips from under her visor as she simply says, ‘Welcome to paradise.’ End ID]

[asphodelsandpomegranates]

Jealousy (Huggy Wuggy x Reader)

You pressed the buttons on the clock-in machine, entering the six digit code to sign you in for the start of your shift and then headed off down to the basement labs that were all too familiar to you. 

You said ‘hello’ to your fellow coworkers and down the metal steps that creaked and banged with every step. 

You pushed open the door to the lab once you reached the bottom of the stairs and was greeted with a slight hub-bub in the large room. You noticed that there was an element of excitement in the room and hastened talk. 

Your attention was then caught by something new in the room. 

There was no longer one glass cage encased with steel. But two!

One was empty and the other was occupied by a twelve foot long limbed, blue furred creature known as Huggy Wuggy; a plush toy brought to life by you and your fellow coworkers. A creature that you had grown close to over the years and was your absolute number one priority. 

Speaking of which, you made your way over to the cage that sat on the opposite side of the room. 

Huggy Wuggy sat against the far wall of the cage, his large frame slumped, his head down. 

“Huggy!” you called as you stepped up to the large door and key panel. 

The large, blue furred toy lifted his head. His dark eyes lit up and his lips drew into a big smile, slightly showing off the sharp teeth hidden. Huggy made a chirping noise of delight as you entered the cage and gently closed the door. Huggy clumsily got to his feet and lumbered over to you. 

“Hey, boy.” you cooed as he knelt in front of you and nuzzled his head against your neck and face. You giggled at the contact and rubbed your hands along his soft blue fur. “You missed me, huh?” 

A purr came as your answer. 

“Yeah, I missed you, too. We’ll get some alone time shortly, though.” 

Huggy made a delighted noise in response. 

Suddenly, the moment was ruined as there came a commotion. 

Both you and Huggy looked round to see the other scientists and some factory workers, looking all in the same direction. At the empty cage. 

The large cage, like Huggy’s, was helmed into the wall, but the wall had a large opening like a garage door which opened slowly. 

You squinted your eyes, trying to see what was entering the cage…and what you saw made your stomach clench, horribly. 

The creature, that was being ushered in by a small group of factory workers, was the same creature as Huggy. From the body shape, eyes, mitten like paws and feet and even the thing bow like tie. The only difference was the fur was pink. 

Was this supposed to be some kind of female counterpart to Huggy? 

The female creature soon entered the cage and sat down in a corner of the cage as the large door came to a close. 

You heard a low growl come from above you, making you glance up. Huggy was snarling at the newcomer. It seemed as though Huggy wasn’t happy that another one of…his kind was in his territory. 

“It’s all right, Huggy.” you cooed, reaching a hand up to stroke his crescent head. “She’s in there and we’re in here. It’ll be all–.” 

“Hey, (Y/N). Get over here for a minute.” called one of your colleagues. 

Furrowing your brow, you made your way to the door of the cage. You heard Huggy following you and turned to him. 

“Wait here, Huggy. It’s all right.” 

Huggy blinked at you, confused, but did as he was told. You went over to the door and stepped out of the chamber. 

“What’s going on?” you asked. The said worker who had shouted over to you. “Who the hell is she?” 

“She,” he explained. “Is our latest experiment.” 

“Experiment? When did that happen?” 

“A month ago.” Replied a female worker “Laith wanted to do some more research. For Huggy to breed.” 

Your heart skipped a beat. “B-breed?” 

“Yeah, breed. Didn’t you hear me?” 

“But…how? We have no inkling that Huggy can breed. He’s an experiment. A living one.” 

“Exactly.” said the male worker. “We don’t know and it's our job to figure these things out. 1-1-7-0 may be an experiment but he’s more than and we may be able to advance with more of his kind at our disposal. Besides, it’ll work for the kids.” 

You felt quite sick to your stomach. Why was this happening? Huggy, to breed with that..that female? You glanced over at Huggy who was staring at you, concerned. 

Your mind began to race back to all those times you and Huggy had been…intimate together. Those times you had both been intimate when it was just you and Huggy somewhere in the factory or in his cage. At first, it had been to help relieve Huggy and soon it developed into a need and then…something more. 

You loved Huggy. More than a human should love a scientific being/toy and the thought–. 

Just the thought of Huggy mating with someone that wasn’t you…it just made you sick. 

Were…were you jealous? 

“So,” said the male worker. “Think you can coax your little friend to come and meet experiment 2-4-8-9.” 

“Or…” said the female scientist. “Kissy Missy. Ha! You ever heard such a ridic–?” 

But the rest of her words, you drowned them out as your attention soon focused on…Kissy Missy. 

The pink plush toy had come out of her stupor and had begun to glance around at the huge room. Her dark eyes seemed a little unfocused, just like Huggy’s had been when he had woken up. She blinked a little and glanced down at the surrounding scientists and factory workers. 

“Oooh, someone’s awake.” 

Kissy soon lost interest and her gaze went upwards, towards Huggy’s cage. Her eyes darted here and there all over Huggy’s form and began to glitter with glee. Her wide red lips grew into a big smile. 

“Shit.” you whispered. 

You walked back to Huggy’s cage and secured yourself inside. 

“Hey, (Y/N), where are you–?” 

You slammed the door blocking out everything that was beyond the cage. You could feel your body shaking with fear. You couldn’t bring yourself to look up at the female counterpart of your lover. Yet you could hear the high chirping coming from outside the cage and the muffled banging against it. 

The sound of footsteps made you look up to see Huggy lumbering over to you and kneeling. 

He placed a yellow glowed paw at the top of your head. He could see you were upset and Huggy never liked it when you were upset. He made an odd cooing noise as though asking you what was the matter. 

How could you explain this to him? That Kissy Missy was to be his mate from now on and not you? 

Huggy made the same cooing noise again. 

Still, you did not respond to him, you could feel the tears coming to your eyes and you didn’t want to show yourself up in front of your colleagues. 

But there was no fooling Huggy. His free paw came to gently brush across your eyes. 

“Thanks, boy.” you sniffed. “Um, they um…you see that pink b-being over there?” you hiccuped nodding over to Kissy who had her own paws against the glass. Huggy let out a disgruntled noise. “Yeah, her. Well, they all want you to meet her.” 

Huggy turned his focus back on you. 

“I know you don’t like the sound of this - and neither do I - but they want to see what..happens. I'll come in with you.” you reassured him, taking both of your smaller hands around his large paw. “And if you don’t like…Kissy Missy, then I'll take you out. I’ll be here with you, okay?” 

Huggy Wuggy didn’t look too pleased by this. His lips were pulled into a frown but it seemed to soften a little as he considered your words. After a moment, Huggy finally nodded. 

Trying your best to ignore the bile rising in your throat, you turned to the scientists outside and nodded at them. One of them, one you recognised to be Avery, hurried to the door and entered the key code. With a small hiss, the cage opened. Everyone waited with baited breath as you led Huggy out of his cage and over to Kissy Missy’s. The female creature began to get excited, jumping rather clumsily in her cage as Huggy and you came close. She was really annoying you and, it seemed, Huggy, too. Huggy began to snarl and back away a little. 

“Would someone calm her down already?” you spat, sending a glare to the others around you as you tried to console Huggy. “She’s clearly bothering him.”

“Do as she says,” called a voice. 

Everyone in the room turned to see the master behind Playtime Co. - Elliott Ludwig - standing with your boss, Laith Pierre. 

“Do as she says. Or else we’ll get nowhere.” Elliott Ludwig repeated. 

A dozen workers ran past you and Huggy and did what they could to subdue the newest experiment. As they did, you moved a little closer to Huggy, manoeuvring your body so that Kissy Missy could properly see what you were doing. 

“It’s okay, Huggy. We’re nearly there now, all right?” 

Huggy gave you a contented purr and began to nuzzle you affectionately. You giggled and began to pet him, making him purr louder. You glanced over at Kissy and noticed that she had finally calmed  down but her gaze was now on you. Kissy stared at you in a curious fashion before her eyes narrowed and bared her shark like teeth at you. 

That’s right, bitch. You thought. He’s all mine and won’t look twice at you. 

“Okay, she’s all right now,” said Avery. “You wanna carry on?” 

You ceased your petting of Huggy and proceeded to lead him to the cage. Huggy seemed to have eyes for you and you alone. The moment the two of you entered the cage, he shuffled closer to your side. 

You turned to Avery. “Keep the door open. At all times.” 

Avery nodded and stayed by the door. 

You then glanced at Kissy as she continued to stare you down as thought you were some annoying insect she longed to squash. You turned your attention to Huggy who was hovering near you, his eyes on you. 

“You okay, my sweet?” 

But before Huggy could respond, there came a shrill shriek and you found yourself being flung back towards the cage wall, slamming hard into it. You soon collapsed to the ground on your front. 

“Fuck!” you hissed. Pain flooded your back making you quiver and curl in on yourself. 

There came a loud roar that made you look up to see Huggy attacking Kissy Missy, shoving her into a corner of the cage. His paws became matted as the claws began to elongate and slice at Kissy. Kissy, completely taken aback, had not reacted in time to Huggy’s attack and was doing a terrible job of defending herself. 

“Huggy!” 

“Separate them now!” came the barking voice of Laith Pierre. 

You could hear people responding to Laith’s orders and heard them scrambling to get in the cage.

“No, Huggy!” you cried, fear rising in your veins as a few came in, carrying tranquiliser guns. 

Huggy turned at the sound of your voice and lumbered over to you. He wrapped his long limbs around you and pulled you to his chest. He made soft cooing and purring sounds as he nuzzled closer to you. 

“I’m all right, Huggy.” you croaked. “It was you I was worried about.” 

Huggy chirped in reply and lifted you in his arms like a parent would a child, and made his way through the crowd and back to his own cage. 

You peeked over Huggy’s shoulder to see Kissy Missy being cornered and soon hit by several tranquilisers. Kissy toppled over and fell to the ground with a loud crash! 

Once inside his cage, Huggy took you to one of the corners of the cage and sat with you tucked in between his legs, his limbs still around you, protectively. 

“Thank you, Huggy.” you said, softly against his chest. “I love you so much.” 

Huggy purred, happily. 

(The End.)