#i'm CRYING at the similarities in position and angles here

[kiatheinsomniac]

Kia darlinnngggg 🥰 so ik you've been simping over tomoe lately soooo I have a request ~ how about smth to do with heat? Perhaps the reader is a yokai as well, having gotten herself turned into one to be with him, not necessarily a fox yokai ( ahem I'm giving you free reign, rabbit and deer are optional bc ik you love those dynamics ) but it's her first heat with him? She's feeling all hot and bothered and doesn't know what to do and Tomoe is both trying to guide her while also trying not to lose it because he's in heat too? But yknow, he fails at the latter hehe

──── 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 ˊˎ -

☾ ⋆ﾟ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: I actually had the theme song for this stuck in my head all around Ikea today lol. My first time writing for Tomoe so you bet I made our fox man feral, horny and mean <3

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Tomoe x yokai bunny! Reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 0.8k

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: NSFW, MDNI, smut, heat cycles, breeding, 'bunny' pet name, creampie, marathon sex

He had told himself that the two of you wouldn’t end up like this and yet here you were: pinned beneath his weight with your belly flush to the sheets, your head pushed down with a clawed hand on your nape and your hips angled upwards, Tomoe’s aching cock pounding into your little cunt over and over again without mercy. When you took on the features of a bunny after becoming a yokai to always be with him, Tomoe had expected that you would end up experiencing a heat similar to his own. Your white-haired lover had warned you of what would happen, had prepared all sorts of herbal remedies meant to help suppress your urges and yet none of it had been enough to make you resist pushing your hand down your pants to try and sate the need between your thighs, moaning unabashedly and unintentionally provoking your partner who had been doing a much better job at hiding his own heat until he heard you moaning his name so sweetly and desperately. 

You had been on your hands and knees earlier but they had since buckled beneath you as you let out little sobs that were a strange mix of overstimulation and relief. Your arousal had already been leaking down your thighs by the time Tomoe found you, teary-eyed and begging him to bury his cock inside of you, feeling so empty without him that it hurt. It had spent the last shred of his restraint and he had been quick to pin you down. Your clothes hadn’t even been discarded initially but now they were tossed all over the room between switching positions and your face burned at the sound of Tomoe repeatedly pounding into you, set on releasing his cum inside of you time and time again, even if it was already leaking out of you and making a mess of the sheets. 

“You just don’t listen do you?” His tone was almost a growl in your ear as his nails bit into the skin over your hips, holding them firmly in place so that you had no escape from him. “I gave you everything I could so that we didn’t have to end up like this and yet you thought you knew what was best.” You let out another sob at three particularly harsh thrusts in a row and yet your cunt tightened around him, “So, bunny, you can keep on crying and take it seeing as you were so sure that this was what you needed.” He pushed more of his weight down on you, leaving you with absolutely nowhere to go and making you take the full force of each thrust. 

The way that the mixture of your cum had him slipping in and out of you with such ease was paired with the obscene sounds of your walls stretching around him and the smack of his skin against yours. You noticed how his moans had become much more vocal, more than aware by now that this meant he was close to an orgasm. You felt him bury his face in the crook of your neck and you were almost certain that he would bruise your poor pussy at this point, “You’re going to take it all…” His voice husked by your ear, “Such a good bunny, you’re going to take it all for me. Help me through my heat, I help you through yours.” His arms wrapped around your body as you were tightly sandwiched between him and the bed, feeling his hips stutter and then slow before stopping entirely, feeling the throb of his cock more so than the spill of his hot cum inside of you considering how stuffed full you already were. 

“Let’s… rest a while, my love.” He panted out, a hand reaching up to tenderly and lazily play with your hair and stroke your ears which had flopped down over your head in utter exhaustion, “It’s been hours…” You could only let out a hum of agreement. 

You felt drenched between your thighs, your skin sticky with sweat, stiflingly hot with Tomoe’s damp skin pressing down on you. Your hair was in tangles and his own white tresses fell over your face, making you shake your head a bit to move it away from where it had been tickling your nose and tormenting your lashes. 

What a mess the two of you had got yourselves in. 

“And you said this would last a week?” You let out a little yelp when you felt his cock push into you once more. You had seen the recovery speed that his heat gave him and yet you had not expected him to continue after suggesting a break, “Wait! Tomoe, you said-” 

“I know what I said and I take it back, I’m not done with you yet, my bunny~” 

☾ ⋆ﾟlike my work? why not: 

∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ join my taglist ∘ consider following/reblogging

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[spruzu]

SONIC ADVENTURE TWO TALK!!!

SO I JUST FINISHED THE GAME AND OH MY GOD!!! I CRIED, I SCREAMED, I WAS SMILING SO HARD, I WAS HYPERVENTILATING AHH! I'm going to talk about it now here you go!

Thoughts about controls: I want to get my negatives out the way first before i talk about all the positives about this game. The main thing that i didn't like where the controls. Now don't get me wrong this is being REALLY nit-picky because most of the game i was completely fine with fighting and moving but sometimes it was really iffy. For example, Sonics homing attack was sometimes really janky. It would make you fall after pressing the homing attack half a second too slow which was what got me out half of the time with the Sonic stages. With Rouge, it would just send me flying which did genuinely make me laugh sometimes but there were other times where i got annoyed over it because i was close to finishing the stage. I don't have any criticism for Tails and Eggman's controls because they were the easiest out of all the stages overall. I don't have much for Knuckles either as he is very similar to Rouge. There was another thing that comes with the controls however which is the camera angle. If you mashed the attack button it would sometimes get really confused and just fly you about the place, making you camera angle stuck in specific way where you can't see the character (having a platform or a wall in the way of your vision/the character) then ending up dying. One thing i can say is that this happened mostly in boss fights and less in stages however, in the last stage with Eggman, i was hovering then managed to let go for a second, making the platform near me fill my screen then i couldn't see ending up in me falling. I don't have much to say other than that, again this is me being really nit-picky and it didn't bother me much until i was trying to actually get through something quickly or was close to finshing a stage.

The story: OH MY GOD! THIS👏 WAS👏 AMAZING👏!! There was no part of it that i was bored by or i didn't enjoy seeing. I was so excited every time i got a cut scene after a stage. The ending was incredible to. I was sat there crying doing the Biolizard, Super Sonic and Super Shadow boss fight. Watching that last cutscene was an experience that will stick with me forever. Watching Sonic and Shadow go super was adrenaline rushing it was so COOL! And the end credits, JESUS... i was BALLING. ''Sayonara Shadow the hedgehog'' HE DID FUCKING NOT. HE. DID. NOT. I screamed when he said that no joke. The end credits where so sweet to, the music was so nice. Honestly the ending was so worth it i'm So glad i played this game. I can see why people say this is one of THE BEST Sonic games especially counting the ending and sound track.

End boss fight: Now, with the Shadow Biolizard boss fight, that crap took me SO. MANY. TRIES. It took me at least 40 mins and a billion (joking) tries to get past that boss but there was no part of it that made me angry! It was a boss fight that made you learn what the bosses attacks and moves were along the way which is something i adore. Boss fights like that always have a special place in my heart. And the Super Sonic and Super Shadow boss fight, there is no bad part to it. It was such a nice boss fight to have finish off the game. Right after a hard-ish boss then throwing in an incredible song with two amazing characters and an easy boss!!! AH AMAZING!!!

Overall thoughts: I'm going to stop myself here because i know i could go on for ages talking about this. Overall, this is defiantly my favourite Sonic game. Its my first proper Sonic game that i have played (that isn't tmosth and 2012 Olympic games) and my GOD was it a good way to start of my intro to Sonic gameplay. You BET i'm ordering Sonic Unleashed soon so i can play that. But for any new sonic fans, i'd really recommend playing sa2 as one of your first games because its a really good way to get into Sonic and you don't need too much information/lore about other characters to understand the story line!

This game was incredible, i am going to try to 100% it... over the span of a reeeeaaaallllly long time.

[halt-kun]

My Hero Academia Chapter 427 - Who was Togura Shigaraki, really ?

Should I be working on my PhD ? Maybe

But I also need to read that chapter

Anyway

Okay so a tv special on Shigaraki

well, he did kill a lot of people

I wonder where this is going

Because if I ever watched a documentary on some random murderer dictator-wannabe and they ended it with "but he was a misunderstood child with trauma", I would riot !

But let's see what's the angle there

OOOO SPINNER CHAPTER

I'm HYPED

the guy with an unrequited crush

what happened to the quirk AFO gave him ?

Thanks Doctor

clearing things up, pleases me

Well that's a bit ironic considering what Shigaraki did to mostly random civilians that weren't actively against him but yes Deku is a murderer technically.

Even though he just gave AFO what he wanted, his quirk

Well now he's calming down

Spinner really gives me the same vibes as Sensui and Itsuki

Well I'm crying, this hits home a bit with the rise of the far right in France (though we (the left) won). My brothers long for destruction in a similar way because they feel rejected by the system (even though they're ciswhitestraightdudes)

So : CAN Deku save Spinner ???

This could destroy me

Spinner really gives the black incel from the countryside vibes

Deku is calm

Spinner, he was your hero of course, and at least for someone who would probably be akin to some alt right geek, at least, your "hero" was rooting for you and thinking about you.

Not just using you for your money because you think you're a loser who won't amount to anything worthwile

Shigaraki's last words to spinner in an alternate dimension : "you should invest in crypto bro, you'll get rich and have women"

I'm noticing now that I don't know enough about the japanese political system to really understand what is represented here. Spinner and Heteromorphs were definitely supposed to mirror the civil rights movement from the US and yet, did he really try to represent somealt right incel there.

Or is it just a byproduct of Spinner character he didn't realize would come to be ?

To my knowledge, Hikikomoris can share this aspect of incel geeks in japan but I don't really know how it's been lately.

I thought my cultural background was closer than that between US and Japan but it's true I've followed US politics more lately

Let's continue though

Well it hurts Spinner, I understand

But you'll have to move forward and accept his legacy, he didn't only affect you but a lot of other people too and not just "positively"

You'll have to move forward at some point, if not for you, for him.

He's not here anymore, take the time to process your grief, but you need to becomes your own hero from now on.

I truly hope you can fight on your own and take part in the reconstruction of Japan toward a better country.

YES

YES

YES

YES

VERY GOOD

YES I KNEW HE WOULD GET IT

You can be a hero Spinner, to yourself but also to others

you have to begin with yourself too

will you join us ?

And save all the Shigarakis laying in wait, ready to succumb to despair ?

Hahaha nice Deku

but yeah, he won't forget about Shigaraki for as long as he lives

TEARED UP AGAIN

yay Shoji, the GOAT, he saved you too in a sense

Oh shit, does it mean Chisaki interacted with Eri ???

Not a good idea, how'd it go ?

Well, even them will work toward redemption it seems

I doubt Eri will forget too

she's traumatized and it's probably lying somewhere, repressed very deep into her psyche.

Thanks Tsukauchi, but a good psychiatrist would be a better idea, she already has a good support system

she needs professional help to complement it

if needed

Oh first years already !? Too bad they'll get expelled in a matter of hours

Oh god no please

fangirls

and Mineta

kill him right now if he even dares to go back to his perverted mind

Is there even a guy in there ?

Anyway, very good chapter

Is MHA going to have one of the best conclusions among mangas (especially big WSJ mangas) ? I'm starting to believe it !

[dreadfutures]

Ooh, what was your inspiration? Music, aesthetics, plot points, etc- anything you feel like sharing! I love hearing about what inspires artists ❤️ Dead Pasts and Dread Futures has such an interesting Lavellan journey and I’m wondering where you get your ideas - ty and have a lovely night ❤️

Hi thank you!! that means a lot. and thanks for indulging me.

For DPDF, the whole origin of the fic was surviving a series of really bad friend breakups that affected me more than anything else in my life and really shaped my worldview, and Ixchel often grapples with similar things. DPDF is very much about depression and isolation inextricably, from different angles.

Beyond individual relationships it keeps popping up in the form of "inspiration" as I think a lot about being mixed race, about being second generation, about clawing my way to positions of leadership and privilege and how best to open doors and empower my peers and those who come after me, about being both afforded privilege but also being marginalized in those spaces too, about building community and coalitions... They're just really central to a lot of my daily existence and the spaces I move in and there aren't clear answers or narratives so I like to write them when I can. And imagining the world as I wish it could be, where sometimes just saying "it shouldn't be this way" loudly enough will give people pause, is important work to keep me hopeful and motivated to live and do the hard work in my relationships and communities.

On more fun notes, some of my biggest inspirations:

Music

These songs make me incredibly emotional, they all have a lot of personal meaning to me about friendships that I've had and lost, and they also have directly inspired a lot of ixchel's relationships with the people closest to her. just listening to agnes these days is enough to make me cry my eyes out.

beige (yoke lore) - unburdened

bad dreams (faouzia) - stripped

running up that hill (placebo) - x

i found (amber run) - ft. London Contemporary Voices

agnes (glass animals) - stare into his eyes **(see below)

Plots, Language, Storytelling

I find myself drawing elements and plots from lots of my favorite books growing up, such as:

Riddlemaster of Hed (Patricia A. McKillip) (ideas about magic, identity, collectivism vs individualism, pacifism, betrayal and love comingling)

Chronicles of Prydain (Lloyd Alexander)

Earthsea (Ursula K. LeGuin) (magic, accepting darkness within you, collectivism vs individualism, other things)

Thirteen Clocks (James Thurber) (whimsical language, poetry, a different way of writing fairy tales, fridge horrors)

Scarlet Pimpernel (Baroness Orczy) (lifted some of it for Wycome)

The Dark is Rising (Susan Cooper) (shoutout: golden owl eyes)

Song of the Lioness (Tamora Pierce) (man. really complicated and nuanced friendships and interpersonal relationships.)

A version of the Robin Hood story whose author I don't know :(

El Cid

The Bartimaeus Trilogy (Jonathan Stroud)

Specifically themes relating to loyalty, chivalry, doing what's right even when it means you lose or life is harder or it's lonely.

Honorable mentions to Peaky Blinders, Pacific Rim, all the Studio Ghibli films (especially Spirited Away).

But also a lot of fanfics I read growing up were really formative.

Elecktrum's Chronicles of Narnia fanfics, and Tonzura123's Chronicles of Narnia fanfics, were especially impactful with how they treated platonic devotion and loyalty.

** a note about agnes

this was originally in the youtube description but I think Dave removed it. But it means a lot to me so I'm copying it here:

dear friends…nervously excited to share with you the video for Agnes. it’s hard to explain exactly how it feels inside a human centrifuge. you sit in a small egg-like pod about the size of a horse which hangs off a 50 foot steel horizontal frame. It looks like something out of a bond villain’s lair. it’s claustrophobic and uncomfortable and also incredibly hot. slowly the whole thing starts to rotate like a helicopter blade. Faster and faster until every part of you becomes crushed under the extreme gravity. its like being slowly sat on by an elephant, or like your whole body being punched in slow motion. you have to flex every muscle and use every ounce of strength you have to keep going. breathing requires serious effort. movement becomes incredibly strained and almost painful. everything that once weighed 5 kilograms now weighs 50. its difficult even to keep your eyes open. it hurts in places you really didn’t know existed. veins and capillaries burst under the pressure and bruising begins. its a rapid physical overdrive. the blood rushes from your brain making it impossible to think rationally or focus. your eyes are also drained and you get tunnel vision…only able to see small circles of the world directly infront of you and your sight goes completely greyscale…no more colour. your balance and spatial awareness goes and the world begins to spin like you’ve had way too much to drink. but the most striking thing is the way that the machine pulls on your heart. you can actually feel it struggling to beat and changing shape…flattening inside of your chest. Its similar to that horrible sinking, tugging heartache that comes only with complete and overwhelming sadness. and then you pass out. we ran the centrifuge 18 times while i tried to sing along to a song which i find difficult to listen to at the best of times. this was probably the most intense video-making experience I’ll ever have. But its the only way that we could just about begin to simulate for a moment what happens within Agnes. speak soon, dave

[astriiformes]

Hi! I’m a different person asking about applying for herbarium jobs. I actually followed you a little bit ago specifically because I saw you post about working in one, I just hadn’t gotten the courage up to ask about it.

I’m in college now, with plans to go into plant research, and I’m probably going to graduate with a good amount of lab experience. I recently realized though that herbarium work might also be a good fit for me. I’m not quite sure what to ask here, but is there anything that would make that transition difficult? Or anything I should know or focus on before I graduate? I saw you said you had more of a science background so maybe you know what I’m getting at here

Thanks!

So, full disclosure, my herbarium position was a work-study job last year (I have had a.... winding and tenuous path through college and am currently going back to school at 26 to attempt to finish my Bachelor's by doing a weird syncretic individualized degree instead of a standard biology one) and I do not have experience with applying for similar positions as a graduate or more standard professional candidate, which can obviously be quite different for some jobs.

That said, I don't know how long you have left in school, but looking to see if your own university offers any similar options OR if there's a local herbarium or museum where you could volunteer in your (limited, I imagine) free time would probably serve to make you a good candidate for herbarium work. Even working or volunteering in non-herbarium collections may help -- I know one thing that came up as a positive in my interviews was that I already had a lot of collections experience on my resume, even though it was all in zoology and paleontology collections. Any collections job will get you acquainted with basic curatorial duties and procedures, and may even familiarize you with specific methods of data entry or other skills you can namedrop on your resume. Even if it's volunteer work (all of mine was -- my herbarium position was my first ever paid collections job) it's a great thing to be able to show you have experience in.

As far as particular difficulties go... nothing particularly glaring is coming to mind. Working or volunteering in a collections job as a student before you graduate would also probably help you figure out if it's the right field for you, which is always another bonus. If you've largely got lab experience I'm sure you're very familiar with the tedium of data entry even when you're doing cool research (although there is the occasional entertaining error message, haha) and a lot of collections work is pretty data entry-heavy, though with the immense bonus that you are entering data about some pretty fascinating things and may find yourself crying over the human experience while handling lichen specimens that were collected in the mid-19th century (I speak from experience).

Best of luck with whatever route you go down, and I'd love to be able to consider you a collections comrade. Folks who make the jump from research science to museums are sometimes particularly great advocates for the importance of specimen collections, considering how useful they can be to researchers and having the background to explain how collections are used for contemporary science and not simply kept around as relics of the past, which may be an angle for you to consider if you dip your toes into the field.

(And don't be shy if you ever have other questions! I love talking about this stuff.)

[cautiously0ptimistic]

2017 | 2022

we all gotta start somewhere, amirite????

[chaotic-vibes-only-please]

Hey! I’m not sure where you stand with Ticci Toby, since the writer had pulled him from the fandom or whatever. But if you could do a yandere/aggressive smut for him, like reader making him jealous unintentionally, that would he great! If not, something similar with Hoodie would work too!

Green Eyed Monster- Toby x Reader Smut

A/N: I do still write for Toby! I'm pretty sure the writer said we could still use him as long as we aren't making a profit off of the character, so that's what I'm going by! Here you go babe, I hope you enjoy🍵

Warnings: Rough sex, begging, choking, overstimulation, Dub-Con, punishment, Dom/Sub, Yandere themes, toxic relationships, smut, NSFW, MDI

Tears trickle down your cheeks as Toby fucks into you, cock drilling in and out of your abused hole. You screw your eyes shut as he holds your thighs apart, his fingertips causing little bruises to form on your flesh. His free hand is wrapped snug around your throat, tightening every now and then to choke you.

You're light headed from the lack of air, the floaty feeling has adrenaline pumping into your viens, the thrill of the situation only adding to your building arousal.

"T-tell me how much you l-love i-it when I fuck you w-with my cock" He lightens the hold on your neck to let you speak. You gasp, sucking in a generous amount of air and struggle to talk.

"I-I love your cock!" You whine as he snaps his hips forward, driving his dick further inside of your messy cunt. "L-love being used by you Toby" You blabber as he pounds into you mercilessly. His cum from his previous release oozes out of you more and more with each thrust. You can feel it dripping on your skin in copious amounts.

"I'm the only o-one th-that can satisfy you, right? Only I can f-fuck you this good, this deep, n-n-not that shit head Ma-masky!" He rants, tightening his hold on your neck. "Beg for forgiveness and I mi-might think about letting you re-rest" His voice drops low, gruff from the constant small grunts of pleasure that strain his vocal chords as your pussy pulses around him.

You curl your toes and fingers as another all too familiar buzz of euphoria carries through your nerves. And scream you do, you shudder and try to wiggle yourself away from him. But judging by how he’s got you trapped, how he doesn’t loosen his grip in the slightest, you know you aren’t getting out of this anytime soon.

"I-I’m sorry Toby! We were just talking I swear!" You cry, loosing your mind to the pure bliss your mind and body are under. How many times has he forced you to cum already? You’ve lost track after the first three. Your walls are so sensitive it’s boarder-line painful. You’re thoughts only consist of getting your insides destroyed. His left shoulder jerks as he begins to chuckle, hand around your throat twitching. 

“J-J-just talking? D-Do you th-think I’m stupid?” He hisses into your ear before pushing your thighs further upwards until you’re manhandled into a mating press position, unable to move much in this new state. Your limbs are numb and worn out, you can only lay there beneath him and take it.

His cock hits a new spot inside you, deeper than missionary was able to offer. You nearly scream, body convulsing from that single hard thrust of his hips, the new angle allowing him to nearly hit your cervix. “fucking scream m-my na-name again” He dares, abusing your cunt until your vision turns white.

[cynettic]

I just read Kitsune reader x yan Scaramouche's fic, may I have gotten hooked on it? and of course, it's just perfect and that's why I'm here to lose a part two with nsfw, thank you in advance and understand if you refuse:3

Link to Part 1

Summary - Taking you captive, Scaramouche continues to see you as a pillar of support. Coming back home to have you there, always. Even if it meant chaining you up.

Pairings - F!Kitsune!Reader x Yan!Scaramouche

Warnings - Smut, slight noncon ( I tried to make it as consensual as possible but its difficult with yandere themes ), fingering, electricity play

Rating - NSFW

Penpal - Ahhh I'm actually beginning to get attached to this series, might end up writing a couple more posts with different hc and stuff. I hope you liked the post though, have a great day <3

A/N - The literal definition of the ‘stoic cruel boy who’s mean to everyone but you.’ Oh well, Scaramouche is ooc af, but I did change a few things in his backstory so its supposed to make sense for this story ;) Also- since we dont know Scaramouche’s actual name, I have the reader still… yknow, call him Scaramouche. Which is kinda weird cause its his harbinger name but oh well. Also, credit to @cycletr4in for proofreading it ;3

Taglist - @cursedraiden

Stay with Me pt.2

Scaramouche was a gentle captor.

In contrast to piercing eyes and harsh stares when it came to others, he had a soft spot for you. Like the ice that encased him whole melted at your touch, craving for the warmth only you could give him. For your arms around him, to play pretend and imagine he were a child, free, fearless, unbound. A child in your arms, safe and protected.

But you were held hostage, which meant that the chains around your wrists and legs held you down and secured you. Like you were bound to one spot like you’d always been, except this time you didn't have a choice.

You weren't waiting for the Kitsune Saiguu.

Hell, you didn't even have your vision.

This brought on resentment for the dark haired boy. You hated him, you despised him for holding you down under his own judgment. But at the same time, all you saw in him was a child, a little kid who hadn't had the time to grow up. The one who refused to do so because it was his only way to survive in the type of world he lived in. Hide behind that same facade he developed as a kid, snide remarks and unrelenting cruelty.

Just to come back to your arms, sobbing because he was still that child. Sobbing because he was still hurt. Sobbing because you were still his beacon of light, of hope.

He depended on you.

And as much as you built up harsh words to use against him, they dissolved in your mouth when you saw him. His vulnerability that he saved for you and you only. A deep part of you cared for him, a little too much.

Gentle fingers brushed through the locks of Scaramouche’s hair, twirling it around and playing with the strands. It was smooth, a small detail no one would have the chance to notice from the distance he put around himself and others. A quiet hum left his lips as he leaned against your chest, eyes fluttering closed against the soothing feeling of you against him.

The lavish silk sheets were soft against your skin, pillow pushing your form to sit up. Just enough to have Scaramouche in your arms, knees on either side of his body as his head rested under your chin. His chest rose and descended, almost on beat with yours, if not just a tad slower.

You hoped he wouldn't hear the way your heart thrummed against your chest.

Warmth, his body flushed against yours, the luxury of a bed and the small candlelight on your bedside. Different from what you’d grown into just on the side of the trail, sitting for decades. Or with your time with the Kitsune Saiguu, it was never this warm, never this gentle.

But this warmth ended at your beating heart, furiously blazing. Sending an urge of adrenaline through your body, whispering ‘run’ through your veins. A primal urge that would've had your hands around Scaramouche’s neck, till he was wrangling and dead.

Till you could escape.

Hand slowly sliding down his jawline, you let your gentle fingers ghost along the soft skin of his neck. Claws outstretched and ready, sharp and pointed with a deadly intent to kill. You could end him so quickly, overturn his trust and make an escape. You deserved it, you deserved freedom. Not a delusional boy who thought himself protector against someone who’s lived decades more than him.

Jolting at the sensation of a soft grip on your wrist, you watched with idle fascination as he simply cupped your wrist in his hold. Not stopping you, not restraining you, he simply brought your hand to his face. To his lips where he pressed the softest of kisses into your palm. So heartfelt and genuine that all you could do was freeze, not even considering clawing his face.

“I love you.”

You both stayed in that position for a few moments more, silence cradling the tension that slowly dissipated from your body. Forlorn eyes watching as he shift the angle of your wrist to kiss your fingertips. He wasn't waiting for an answer, basking in these soft moments where he could hide in your hold. Like a child, forced to grow up too quickly, yearning back for his foolish naivety, yearning for the childhood he missed.

You were that childhood.

Which is why he clung to you so dearly, showed expressions he didnt know he could make, hold you captive under the impression that it was ‘right.’ What he was doing was okay.

Claws retracted, you pursued your lips, holding back the tears of frustration that burned at your eyes. You hated him, hated him for the chains on your wrists, for the disappearance of your vision that you’d given so much value to. Hated him for the warmth he still made you feel.

You hated him.

You felt like a housewife in some respects. Not with the cleaning and cooking part, and of course no children were part of the equation. But in terms of support, you stayed rooted to that room, loose chains too strong for you to break or tug holding you down. Window was too far, and you were stuck moving around the bed and the desk that sat just a little farther away.

Attempts at having your vision back or more freedom in movement had been discussed with Scaramouche, but as childlike and free as he acted with you, he was not an idiot.

“I don’t plan on underestimating you,” was his answer, head resting on the plush of your chest. “You’re strong, always were. But I have to take extremes to make sure you don’t get hurt, some people out there are stronger than you.”

You wanted to point out that there were a ton of people stronger than him as well, but you kept your mouth shut. “Can I at least see the house? I’ve been cooped up here for so long…”

And he cant say no to such an innocent request as that right?

So he unlocks the chains, the vision at his side reminding you that he was strong. You solely knew that he’d been tough as a kid, and under the intensive training he’d seemed to endure, he was much much stronger. You werent willing to give it a go and lose his trust just yet.

Not like he really trusted you anyways-

At the very least, you’d hoped to get some sort of blueprint of the house, and all you’d received was confusion and your mind making up that the house itself was a maze.

“Didnt we… just pass through here?”

Glancing at the obvious frustration on your face, Scaramouche chuckled, pulling your arm through the hallways you swear you’d seen three times prior. “Nope, most of the hallways look pretty similar. The house wasn't built for dumbasses.”

You flashed him a look and were about to make some snideish rebuttal before you saw the smirk. You knew what he was doing, trying to comfort you with casual arguments you both used to have. Consisting of you telling him to work on his people skills, and him calling you a lazy ass. Of course you missed it, but you also knew you couldn't go back to it.

And then there was the issue when you learned that he was a harbinger.

A scene you didnt want to replay in your head, when a maid burst into your room, Scaramouche acting a tad more intimate. He had an awful tendency to do that, hug your waist and press his face against the crook of your neck. Press gentle kisses down the length of your shoulder that had you shuddering. You weren't used to intimacy, and considering you’d watched him grow up, it was just weird.

Stuttering, the maid had demanded that he was requested by the Tsarista. You’d seen the fear in her eyes when Scaramouche slowly turned to her, seen the unshakable immobility of standing under his gaze.

“Do not enter.” He said, “It’s on the door.”

That was the first time you’d seen Scaramouche kill.

You hoped it’d be the last.

But you’d seen death before, so much death in the time of the Kitsune Saiguu. And for a few seconds, you found yourself fearless as you yanked against the chains, yelling at his figure at the doorway.

“Tsarista?” You snarled, standing just a few feet away from him. His hand on the girls neck, clenching around the pretty skin of hers. Disgusted, the chains that held you back from closing the gap and throwing the girl away from him were impossible to overcome. “Why the hell does she need you?!”

‘Let go,’ you wanted to say. ‘Let her go, she’s going to die.’

It worked, because the ironclad grip was gone, the maid tumbling to the ground lifelessly. You’d been too late, and now her blood was on his hands, your hands. This was your fault and you had half the self control not to thrash against the chains with sharp claws, hands on his neck.

The hard steel gaze vanished in an instant, and like he’d regained his senses, he took a few steps to you. Hands clenching to fists before loosening to fingertips brushing against his palms. Confusion, regret and guilt clouded his features like a child waiting to be reprimanded. You didn't back away, stood firm and fierce when standing and keeping a tough front.

You wanted to cry.

“Its… its a long story.” He finally stated to your question, and when you didnt budge, he took a deep breath. In control again, he closed the distance between the two of you, “I’m sorry.” And that same thrum of electricity jolted through your body, sending you into a spiral of the girls lifeless eyes and Scaramouche’s childlike eyes. Till everything went black.

You woke up with the body gone. Scaramouche was gone as well.

You learned that Scaramouche liked to have things his way. Which meant that he was always in control, always had control of every situation.

Even in those short stretches of vulnerability when he rested in your arms, he still held something over you. And you had to adapt, shift for his wishes, coddle him and stay as his beacon. Because he was stronger, and even if you’d find some way to escape, he would find you.

It was odd, and you slowly let go of the image of him as a child, you knew he was a lot older. He’d probably reached the age your body was stuck in, and with every sweet kiss he pressed to your lips, you knew he saw you as some sort of lover. But as someone who wasn't in control, you simply had to play along, just until you found some way to make your escape.

Without killing him.

_-_-_-_-_

“Strip.”

Laying on one side of the bed, your eyes jolted open at the commanding voice. Slowly, you sat up, eyeing the dim figure at the doorway. Without the help of a candle or the moonlight at the window, you could distinguish Scaramouche at the doorway, taking off the large headpiece as he flung it to the ground.

“Excuse me…?” Your voice was soft, rusty after an evening nap.

“I’ll make you feel good,” was his only answer. Slowly making his way to the bedside till he could properly face you. His eyes were soft, but there was an odd sort of determination that you hadnt seen before. You held back his stare, confusion lacing your features when he suddenly started pulling off loose decorations that hung on his clothes. Just till he unlaced the vest and slid off his shirt. “Don’t worry.” But you didnt know quite what he meant until he leaned further to you, catching you off guard.

So you yelped when his hands suddenly slammed down on your shoulders, shifting you to have access to the buttons of your top layer. He was quick when undoing them, simply swatting away at your hands when you protested and tried to pull him away. Throwing it to the edge of the room when he was done, you could only thrash in horror when he undid your trousers just as quickly, pulling them down before you could grab them back up.

“Scaramouche? Hey-”

And then he threw you down on the bed, exposing you in your undergarments in the cool air of the room. Shivers crept up your spine and bristled across your skin, and before you could curl up to at the very least hide away, you felt a tug at your chains. Fear finally settled in when you saw Scaramouche attach the chain to the bedpost, until your hand was lifted up and he began to do the same to the other.

“Wait wait wait, stop and explain what you’re-”

Only then did he pause from what he was doing, slowly looking down to properly face you. His eyes slid up and down your body, and he took a step towards you. “I’ll make you feel good,” were his only words, and you were forced to take them as all he was planning on giving you. Only when he sat on the bed next to you did you realize what he meant, hand settling on your shoulder, waiting.

“Alright,” you said slowly. Painfully, the words bit your tongue, but you were merciless against someone who had control against the situation. You could say no and you knew Scaramouche would stop, he was gentle to you and you only. And even if he’d been firm just before, you knew that he’d still stop if you asked him to.

A part of you felt thrilled to have that power over him.

Another part of you just wanted to escape.

But you didnt have any hope to do so unless you were willing too give him everything. Because he expected everything and would do anything in his power to obtain it. You’d let him fiddle around with this delusion, thinking that he had control. Until he didnt.

Which is why you didnt flinch when his hand gently slid up your stomach, cold against the warmth you’d had under the blankets. Rubbing gingerly against your skin and drawing smooth shapes over before he slowly slid over your body. His eyes seemed to glint under the darkness of the room, lust filled and wanting.

You didnt shift uncomfortably, you pretended to be that doll he expected you to be.

Just staring up at him as he slowly leaned down to kiss you. His lips felt like snowflakes on a winters day, idly swaying side to side to catch one in your mouth. Jolting like electricity when they melted into your touch, red and swollen when he pulled back. You now vividly felt every touch, as if a current flowed and static jittered in the places he briefly brushed his fingertips.

“You always take such good care of me,” he breathed, lips slowly drifting down your chin. Just past your jawline and right on your neck. The space between your head and shoulder, a soft vulnerable spot that had your lips humming at the affectionate pressure. “Its my turn to take care of you.”

And then his lips were everywhere, collarbone, shoulders, cleavage. Just until his teeth were tugging off your bra, face nuzzled in between both breasts. Both of his hands now resided on your hips, grabbing both thighs to hold them up and against him. You could feel him hard, pressing so close to your heated core.

You managed to keep your reactions in check.

Just until he slowly grinded against you, mouth on your breasts as he again pecked the soft mounds, molding his lips against them as if he could remember the texture, memorize the feel. It was just to that point that mindless sounds slipped past your lips, turning to gasps when his hands on your thighs suddenly buzzed, and static rushed in. Your legs felt weak, entire body thrumming in response to the electricity he sent jolting.

He was using his vision.

The realization was numb against his lips on your breasts, hands slowly stroking the skin of your sides, travelling up. He hovered over you for mere seconds before mashing his lips against you once more, different. He was no longer gentle, and it was with the contact on your tail that you lost all control. When he gently moved it out of the way, backing up.

You were a mess.

Not that you tried to be, you’d been doing your best not to enjoy his touch. But it was hard when your core heated up so fast, mashing both legs together in hopes he wouldn't notice. You knew he would, any action beyond that was just you trying to save your dignity.

He sat there like he was enjoying the sight, the first time you’d seen him actually portray any visual confirmation of satisfaction towards the chains. He’d drink dry any ounce of control you gave him, and it was impossible not to give him it all when you were visionless and vulnerable.

But the dignity you struggled so hard to keep shattered when his hands brushed against your inner thigh.

Fingers slowly made their way to the padded fabric of your undergarments, two digits rubbing the area slowly with expertise. You bit your lip, muffling any groan of anticipation, hiding the way your hips tried to rock back into the gesture. Desperate, oh so desperate. Hiding back the whimpers as he slowly quickened the pace of his fingers against your garments. “Archons Y/n,” he murmured. “I haven't even put anything in and you’re already a squirming mess.”

“Shut u-up,” was all you managed, trying to shift away from the pressure against your clit. But his other hand was on your hip, holding in place. You could only watch and press your thighs tightly together as he slowly slid down your panties, resuming hovering over you. Distracting you with kisses, his fingers gently stroked your core, two fingers slowly sliding into your cunt using your juices.

He was gentle when pumping both fingers in and out, too slow when you thrust your hips to meet his fingers, pleading for him to go faster. But he liked hearing your cries, slowing down when you begged, quickening when you whined and just lay there, taking it.

You shuddered the first time electricity jolted from his digits.

It was when he had three fingers that he sent the static up your body, back arching with such intensity that it even had him chuckling. “Oh? You like it that much?” And then it is like something buzzed against your body, fingers vibrating against your clit as your thighs tightened around his hand. So much that you thought you’d crush it, but it didn't matter, not with the electrifying feeling against your body. It felt so odd, so overwhelmingly good that it had your legs sliding up and down the bedside, toes curling as the static grew and you fell paralyzed to his touch.

It didn't take long with his fingers thrusting in and out of you to cum. Moaning mess when he gave you the time to breathe, teeth biting your bottom lip and then mashing against yours. Your eyes grew fuzzy and most happened in a haze, and all you knew the entire time was that you’d given yourself to him, and that it felt good. You couldn't see the childlike wonder in his eyes anymore, not the need of a beacon or of support. No, the look he shared was feral, the smile tinting his lips almost scary. But it felt too good to care, and you let yourself enjoy his ministrations.

He pulled out and suddenly his own shorts were undone, boxers thrown to the side of the room just like all your other clothing. You didn't see how big he was, just felt his hard shaft against your throbbing cunt, pussy dripping and legs open wide and tired after your first go at it.

You expected him to be gentle like he’d been with his fingers. But he pressed the tip against your core, and in one full motion he was in. Teeth grinding against each other, you held back a scream, shock coursing through your body, overwhelmed with pain and discomfort. It hurt. But it was quickly overshadowed by his movements as he slid in and out of you, slow when pulling his hips back, and rocking himself completely inside you each time. A pattern that let you catch your breath and lose it all the same. Like he was continuously having a go at hitting the deepest parts of you, pulling back before fully thrusting into you and sending waves of pleasure and pain alike.

It was expected, but you couldnt hear yourself.

Not with your mind trapped in a haze of how he felt, body still buzzing after how he’d pulsed his vision through you. And now you were at the mercy of his member, hips swaying along with his, no energy for you to rock with him and try to push him deeper.

Archons, you didn't even think he could go deeper.

But you were proven wrong again and again as he kept the steady pace, hands clawing at your ass and hips. Stabilizing himself and trying to press himself against you, as far as he could go. Slowly, his hands drifted up to your hair, playing with the soft sensation of your furry ears. Pinching and rubbing, fingers coaxing the back of them like a massage. So gentle, but it paled in comparison to the harsh treatment of his dick.

You came first, gripping the chain with your hands in an attempt to stay stable. Walls clenching around him one last time before you got your release, your moans turning into cries when he continued to thrust into you. Your body felt numb, all nerves centred on the way he pounded into you, chasing his own release.

When he did, he pressed his head into your chest, his own breaths heavy with pleasure. Not pulling out, you could only lay there helplessly as his seed filled you, warm in contrast to the electricity he’d shot up your body just earlier. He didnt pull out, and laying in your chest, your heavy breathing didnt stop until he was asleep, collapsing on you and using you as support yet again.

Taking only a minute later to regain control of your senses, you shifted uncontrollably at his member inside of you, sending waves of pleasure every time you moved. Your wrists were restrained and you were stuck in this position till morning.

Achingly, you looked down at the boy, wondering how you would ever manage to escape.

[not-another-robin]

alfred for the character thing im curious! failing that then cass <3

AAAAH MY TWO FAVES <3 I'm gonna do both but Alfred first!!

favorite thing about them

The dadliness of COURSE it's the dadliness. The general idea of how loyal to a fault he is, that he dedicated his life to taking care of this boy he cared for so much, and his family growing in turn, I just cry. I have so many emotions about how underrated Alfred's angle in the whole found family thing is - PLUS I think he has so much potential for emotionally resonate backstory and parallels with Bruce because of that. Do not test me I will break into DC and MAKE THEM let me rewrite Alfred's backstory

least favorite thing about them

Predictably from the last thing I hate it when he gets written as too stuck up to the point of fucking Bruce up even more as a child. Generally the idea of not allowing Bruce to be a kid when he's lost so much just makes me really sad, and I hate any timelines that involve Alfred OR Bruce hitting the batkids in any context :( listen I'm just a big baby I'm hear for camp not abusive family dynamics

brOTP

Oh my god so many. Him and any of the batkids - all of them have excellent dynamics, Dickie literally calling Alfred his best friend is my favorite thing. And of course I love him and Bruce's dynamic, these fuckers have had 1 (one) friend (each other) for going on two decades they are a bizarre little pair. Pure same guy syndrome I love it. Also of course Martha Kent!!!! I <3 want <3 them <3 to <3 be <3 best <3 friends !!! They go on vacation together, they gossip about love triangles in the league, they share casserole recipes, they kick ass. Adore them.

OTP

OUGH I will die on the hill of the Alfred, Thomas, and Martha polycule. I have an ungodly amount of thoughts about their shared history and positive impact on each other's lives and negative impact on each other's reputations but they got through it together,, making the Wayne deaths hurt like hell is my favorite pastime ♥️

nOTP

Only the obvious bat ones, I don't really have any grudges against run of the mill ships for him. Maybe him and Leslie Thompkins? I like to think Leslie is Lesbian, and I think they're coupling is always kinda forced and weird. They are mlm/wlw co-parenting solidarity

random headcanon

He has a passing interest in fashion, costuming, and sewing. He had a lot of fun helping Martha with her outfits, hair and makeup and it was one of the small things he missed when she passed. He was very excited when girls started joining the batfamily (and when dick had a more adventurous sense of style than Bruce). He wears the same thing every day but his kids will look good dammit

unpopular opinion

As funny as it can be (That "I raised a man too soft hearted for this world, luckily my mother can't say the same" post always makes me HOWL) , I really hate the whole 'alfred likes guns' thing. IDK, at least to me he'd have similar hang ups about it as Bruce, his best friends and his child's parents were killed my gun violence, I just can't see him staying into them. I like him better with swords

song i associate with them

Hmmmmm Happy Days are Here Again, especially with this montage from the Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. The end of this song gives me panic attacks in a good way <3 it's nostalgic and beautiful but also like. Very scary and urgent. Since I associate it with this scene it always gives me those panicked vibes of life getting increasingly more fucked up, like per say, starting as a butler for a loving idealic family, having them get murdered in front of their son, and ending with 9 vigilants on your hands

favorite picture of them

I cannot say enough how obsessed I am with tiny Alfreds in the tnba comics. Also not really a pic of him but honorable mention to "Alfred youre being goofy"

[belltrigger]

oooh, surprise for prompts? bonus points if it's Ingo learning something new Emmet picked up while he was still yeeted to Hisui, but I'm sure anything you want to do is gonna be a joy to read. :D

Anon, I am *crying* 😭 Tumblr goofed up, as it has been doing over the last few days, and ate your ask. BUT, thankfully for us both, I had copied it for my OpenOffice document while I was working on it.

-Send me a “Surprise” and I’ll write a drabble about one character discovering something surprising about the other

Title: Model Kit Word count: 1,255

The toothy scrape of metal as scissors closed with a snip, the muted thump of them being placed on fabric set down to dull sound. A soft click as something was fit to its match, and then a tick as it was set aside as well. Fingers drummed against a cloth surface in a short pattern, the familiarity distant but comforting.

A soft sigh escaped his lips as he turned over towards the sounds, gently being coaxed from his dreams. Recognizing the sounds of something small being worked brought to mind the construction of pokéballs, but that couldn't be. Pokéballs were not constructed by hand here, in Unova.

To further remind him of where he was, wrapped around him were fluffed blankets making him pleasantly warm. His body felt light after a solid rest, a night spent with the twin he had missed for so long. Indulging in a little stretch, the aches that seemed ever-present had not yet noticed his wakefulness, offering a welcome respite. Edging into his awareness, the patter of rain against the window surfaced, and there was a rumble of distant thunder that the fingers again repeated in taps, this time against the wood of the desk.

As comfortable as he was, though, there was something missing. His hand slid across the sheet under the blanket, brows furrowed slightly at the absence of a familiar body next to him. Partially opening his eyes to search for his twin who should have absolutely been wrapped around him, he spotted him hunched over his desk, small lamp on to illuminate his work.

The sun had begun to filter through the curtains, but it was still faint, fighting its way through the storm clouds. His internal clock, combined with that, thought perhaps it was a little after sunrise. It was unlike Emmet to be awake before him, and especially odd that he had managed to get out of bed without rousing him.

In his sleepwear of a white t-shirt and small black shorts, he looked positively absorbed in his work. Quietly murmuring to himself, voice too low to make out any words, he leaned over away from the bed to pull something from the box at his feet.

Watching Emmet quietly as the sound of his work continued, the relaxing atmosphere combined with the continuing rain almost lulled him back to sleep. But he stubbornly kept his eyes open, wanting to memorize this moment of his twin when he thought he was the only one awake.

Visions of Emmet in similar situations overlapped the scene. Of his younger twin, frustrated at his studies, one hand in his hair and weight heavily on that arm, before leaning back with a loud complaint. Or when he was excitedly making adjustments to their pokémon strategies, scribbling down his thoughts as he reviewed footage. Holding up a book to him, pointing eagerly at some text he found. Always vibrant, always energetic.

This was similar, the same level of devotion, but with a quiet sort of focus that he didn't recall ever seeing from his twin.

The urge to call out to his twin bubbled in his chest, and he slid over to Emmet's spot in the bed. "Emmet?" His twin hummed in response, but the distance in his tone implied it was a reflex to his name and not actual awareness of his voice. "Hey, Emmet?" he tried again, a little louder.

Emmet sat back, straightening his posture, and from this angle he could see his twin blink the distance out of his eyes. "... Huh?" He set down what had been in his hands, and shifted in his seat, leg now sticking out to the side as he turned to face the bed. "Oh, Ingo. You're awake."

Giving Emmet a fond smile, he nodded. "Yes, I just woke up. Are you working on something?" Without hesitation, Emmet smiled back at him, still used to mirroring him even after all their time apart. The first time he'd seen Emmet copy him at the exact same time, movements so familiar to his twin, it had astounded him. It had been Emmet's first clue that his memories were lost to him.

"Yes!" Emmet began patting the desktop, bringing attention to his gloved hands, eagerness glowing in his eyes. "It's a 1:64 scale model powered with a spring mechanism!" Not stopping the patting, he turned back towards the desk and used his free hand to pick up one of the plates that contained some of the parts. The limited light caught on the silvery metal, glittering on Emmet's face like stars. "It's verrry complicated!"

"I didn't know you liked to build models." In truth, he didn't 'know' much about his twin anymore, but this didn't ring familiar in his chest.

Emmet laughed brightly and sat the piece down. "You forgot a lot!" A look of guilt began to settle on his face, but Emmet caught it within moments, continuing on. "But not this time! It's new!"

"Hm? New?"

Expression turning wistful, Emmet's hand stopped, and he glanced down at his knees. "You liked them when we were young." He nodded in response, a familiarity welling up. But if his hazy memories were to be trusted, Emmet had never had the patience for it. "I missed you. Thought they would help."

Finally sitting up at his twin's wounded voice, he spread his arms. Pushing himself up from the chair, Emmet climbed back into bed, into his older brother's embrace. They tangled together, Emmet nuzzling at his jaw as he worked to warm his younger twin's arms. "Did they help?"

Emmet nodded under his chin, and he nuzzled at his twin's soft hair. "Yeah. I could think about you. You know, without being sad." A squeeze of his twin was reciprocated, and Emmet placed a kiss to his throat, cuddling up further against him.

Instead of his first thought, which was to apologize to Emmet yet again for leaving him, he pressed his cheek to the top of his head. "Could I perhaps help you with this one?" If Emmet had started it to think about him, would it not be nice to do it together? His precious twin looked so excited to talk about it, it must have been quite the model.

A sudden tightening of Emmet's arms around him alerted him to Emmet's response before his precious twin even spoke. "Really?" Gone was the defeated tone of moments ago, replaced by the eagerness he remembered so strongly.

"Yes, I think it will be fun. We can work together on something just for us." Emmet vibrated in his arms, and he had no choice but to chuckle against his hair.

"Okay!" He was pulled back down to the bed with Emmet, who laughed and snuggled up to him. His gloved hands moved to wrap around Ingo's waist, pulling their hips closer together. A blush warmed his face, but Emmet just wriggled with more determination to get comfortable, almost as if he didn't realize what he was doing.

Emmet certainly knew what he was doing.

Despite how he was affecting his poor older brother, Emmet just shut his eyes after that, and let out a long, pleased sigh. "I missed you, Ingo."

Wrapping one arm around Emmet's shoulder, and the other lower on his back, he pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I missed you too, Emmet." Once again, the distant sound of the rain came back to the forefront, and they both drifted off together, ready to share a new hobby together.

[kaiyaki-sano]

congrats on 100!! I'm gonna challenge you. Kabuto thirst. HCs or drabble. sex in the lab. love you 💜

Ooooooohhhhhh you menace you I’m still so angry about that😡

❌🛑!!NSFW CONTENT 18+ ONLY!!🛑❌

Kabuto NSFW HCs

Now this little menace is able to be incredibly flustering without even trying or saying ANYTHING remotely dirty.

He comes up to you one day, out of nowhere(you’d been friends for a while, finding him a little odd but very endearing and adorable), while you’re training on the grounds, throwing kunai

“Hello,” he smiles, “I see you still can’t hit that bullseye, can you? It’s really simple physics, a little bit of geometry if you want to be technical.”

Then he’s RIGHT behind you, you can feel his breath on your neck while he explains trajectory and the equation of the wind speed plus your angle of throwing, it all sounded like white noise to you though

Because now he’s holding your wrist gently in one hand, elbow in the other, placing your arm in the right position for a successful throw, you have goosebumps and your hair is standing on end on the back of your neck

He notices, of course he does, research and observation are second nature to Kabuto. Interesting, he thinks, how you react to such simple touches and closeness.

“Would you mind accompanying me to my lab? I have an experiment I’d really like to conduct, and you seem to be a perfect candidate.” He asks bluntly, this is science.

You’re confused, but you agree, especially while you’re still weak at the knees, your curiosity got the best of you.

You’re in the lab, and he directs you to a table, “Please do not feel pressured for this, you may opt out at any time, no questions asked. Your comfort and safety are of the utmost importance, do you understand?”

What the fresh fuck is he talking about? You watch him mull about his many sets of cabinets and drawers, gathering a notebook, stopwatch, just standard research- wait. That looks like a vibrator? Is that a vibrator? That’s a vibrator.

The confusion on your face was VERY apparent, and Kabuto cracked a grin at the expression, “See, I’d really like to learn more about human sexuality. How the body responds to certain things under certain circumstances, how it correlates with the mental state one can reach in specific sexual situations. I noticed you reacted to my touch, and I wanted you to be the one for this. I have for a while, actually, but I would never jeopardize our companionship for an experiment.”

His face was so genuine, so kind. Not to mention, he wasn’t wrong, you had reacted. The more you though about it, the more your body reacted. Kabuto notices this too, and smirks. You nod.

“Excellent, please lay down here.” He helps you up onto the table, waiting for you to strip down to your underwear before fastening the fitted restraints to your wrists and ankles, leaving you fully on display, perfect accessible.

What surprised Kabuto, was that he himself had a reaction at the sight of you like this, his cock twitching in his pants. Intriguing. He made a mental note of that, and allowed himself to enjoy this experiment a little bit.

“A perfect specimen,” his voice dropped a little, then he cleared his throat as if to shake it off, “I’d like to first see how long you can go without cumming, after being brought very close to it. Edging, I believe is the term?” He shrugged, looking you over and dragging a few fingertips down the length of your torso, noting the goosebumps that arrived in their wake. “So, would you say you’re sensitive everywhere then?”

He was asking seriously, following the question with a similar touch up your inner thighs, stopping at the edge of your panties. Your whine was not only good information, but very entertaining.

“So you don’t need to be touched very much to become vocal? Noted,” he nodded, business like. But holy shit, did it send a jolt of lightning to your core.

“Oh my, you must be very sensitive,” he raised his eyebrows, running his fingers over the damp cloth between your legs, which made you try and close them from the sensitivity, but you were bound too tightly, left exposed.

“Are you comfortable? Are you okay? Would you like me to stop?” He asked instantly, reaching for the restraints to undo them, only stopping at your loud protest.

“No it’s okay, I’m fine, I’m really enjoying myself,” you reassured him, “how about I say ‘conclude’ or something if it gets too much?”

Yes. That was a good idea. “I see, like a code word. Brilliant suggestion,” he smiled, patting your thigh fondly, “you’ve always been very intelligent.” With that, he moved your panties aside, slowly running the tip of his index finger up and down your labia, watching you closely as you squirmed and bit your lip.

Yes, this was science, but it was also very fun to watch you get more and more flustered and frustrated at his teasing, he was still kind of a shit-head.

He takes mercy though, and slides his finger in, collecting some of the wetness you had an abundance of, and trailing the finger up to your clit, rubbing at the perfect speed.

The sound you made startled him just a little bit, but he continued, speeding up his movements just enough. “You look like you’re going to cum, are you?” He asked simply, and when you nodded, he hastily removed his hand.

“That was very quick,” he noted, switching out his finger for a vibrator, holding it against your clit.

He did the same thing, waiting for you to get right at the brink, then stopping. Over and over, relentless.

You couldn’t take it anymore, you really needed to cum. You tapped on the table with your fingertips, panting heavily and tears pricking your eyes, “K-Kabuto, please, conclude this one!”

He nodded, giving you a reassuring smile and a sweet rub to your thigh, “You’re doing very well, you really are a perfect specimen. Thank you. I can make you cum, if you’d like.”

At your nod of approval, he put the vibrator back, and held it where it needed to be until you were crying out to the ether, eyes rolling back and cum leaking down your thighs.

“Oh my, that’s very nice to look at,” he commented, “next part: how many times can I make you cum before you can’t anymore. Overstimulation, yes? Remember, just say conclude.” He smiled again, not removing the vibrator, but taking a seat to write his findings.

He would be doing as many of these experiments as possible, as often as possible, from now on. But only with you, his perfect specimen.

Ily boo😘💞hope you enjoyed the hc Drabble!

[heresathreebee]

Bloody Mess

[Ralph Lamont X Female Reader]

AN: ok 1st of all this got Nasty and also I wanted to try a different format

Warning(s): +17 | Hemophilia, unprotected sex (wrap it to tap it), mentions of abuse, dead body (he deserved it), little rough, sub!Ralph Lamont, cum eating, hair pulling. Masterlist

Alright so I was dragging my feet to watch the episode of Blue Bloods with Alex Brightman in it and I'm glad I did because I got some cool ideas. I don't watch cop centric shows anymore but I thought Ralph would be a cool Italian mob type: turns out he's some dickhead twitch gamer who murdered a girl for stupid reasons I can't remember. 

So fuck cannon, he's a 90's mobman now. 

**YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED**

Imagine Ralph Lamont is a one man clean up crew. He's the go-to guy for any jobs gone wrong, gone messy. Body needs disappearing without a trace? Ralphie's your guy. 

Kinda like The Wolf from Pulp Fiction (Tarentino, 1994) 

Hydrochloric acid, latex, bleach, bone saw: all he needs is a few hours and it's like there was never a brutal murder here. (Sometimes this is accomplished with a distraction, a staged robbery or shoot out a few counties over if there were too many witnesses)

So Mr. Clean I mean Mr. Lamont gets a job at your home. 

It's a cute little 3rd floor apartment with a Mr. and Mrs. Andersen living in it. 

Mr. Andersen is– pardon, was– a bookkeeper for Dr. Coolidge (friend of Ralphie's; they both like sterile environments), so it's a favor. Dr. Coolidge mentioned over the phone he expected something "like this" to happen sooner or later. He asked Ralphie to be delicate with you– the late Mrs. Andersen. 

You buzz him in without a word. 

He finds you leaning against the kitchen island, putting out the cherry of your cigarette. You put it out right on Mr. Andersen's ugly yellow tie (or he thinks it used to be yellow)

It's a fucking blood bath in here. Mr. Andersen was a bleeder. Red splashes and streaks cover the counters, the toaster, the oven door, the fridge. There are bloody footprints on the floor and an honest-to-go pool of it dripping off the counter right next to Andersen's final resting place. You left the steak knife in his throat and he must have sat down in that island chair never to get back up again. His eyes are listless and grey. 

Ralphie walks around you, careful to keep you in his peripheral just in case you weren't done "expressing yourself." The linen of your frock is stained, your feet are bare, and your eye is black and swollen. Some of your bruises are old. 

In his sweep, he finds three bloodied knives in the sink: a bread knife, a fillet knife, and a cleaver. 

"Mrs. Andersen," he says as he turns back to you, "if you wouldn't mind moving to the bedroom for me? You've made quite a mess and I'd hate for you to have to see anymore violence." 

"You gonna fight him for my honor? He's already dead." 

Ralphie chuckles. "No ma'am. I'm gonna cut him up into pieces so the gallons of acid I brought with me dissolve his corpse efficiently. I'll need to borrow your bathtub for that, and you don't want to try getting cleaned up after the fact. It's no good for the skin." 

He's circled around the white marble kitchen island to stand before you. He's calm. The smile on his face is easy and it soothes you. You drop your eyes and catch an unexpected sight. 

"Are you…" you wipe at your mouth a accidentally leave a crusted red streak. "Do you get off on this?" 

Mr. Lamont shifts his stance; no doubt you've seen the light tent in his pants. "What can I say except I admire your handiwork, Mrs. Andersen. I imagine you may have wanted him to die slowly and painfully. Was it all that you hoped for?" 

You turn sheepish (incredible, really, surrounded by such admirable evidence of your own rage) and nod. "It was…" 

"Glad to hear," he says softly. "Now, if you wouldn't mind..." 

He places a gentle hand on your shoulder but you step away from the island and change his distant, guiding gesture into an intimate embrace. He looks at you in surprise when he feels you wrap your hands around his back beneath his blazer. 

"I seem to suffer a similar affliction," you tell him and press yourself into his erection. "You wouldn't mind giving a girl a hand, would you?" 

Well it certainly wasn't part of the job, but he was eager to please. 

“As you like it,” he whispered, pulling you into a soft kiss. 

Your blood sings in your veins. You’ve just killed your no good louse of a husband and now you’ve got your tongue down a stranger’s throat. And a handsome one too, so polite (you were still wary of him but if Dr. Coolidge sent him perhaps he couldn’t be all bad)

You tug at his tie as if it would make him any closer to being inside of you. The smell of copper is a never ending assault on your senses, but you also smell wood smoke beneath it on his collar. 

Mr. Lamont’s cheeky hands find your hips and a second later he’s helping you sit up on the kitchen counter. You can see your husband from the corner of your eye, his mouth hanging open in eternal anguish. It just serves to intensify your lust for life. 

You give Mr. Lamont's belt a meaningful tug and slip back down to the floor to turn around

You mean to ask him to help you with your zipper, but instead you feel his lips at your neck just before his hand grips the back of your head and pushes you down, face first into the counter inches away from the pool of blood. 

Your hand slides through the sticky essence and you feel Lamont draw your skirts up and your underthings down. 

You gasp with a shriek as you feel something hot slide up your slit and over your other hole. Did he just lick you??? 

The living man growls in what sounds like pleasure, pulling at his sleek tie just enough to loosen the constriction at his throat and then he’s shucking his pants down. 

You’re not sure if you want him to work you up slowly or take what he wants but you hold your breath and let him lead. You’re far from disappointed when he massages the meat of your rear and leans over your back. 

“You can still change your mind, doll,” he whispers, “not too late to go shower and forget today.” 

You consider it but you don’t want to forget. You want the feeling of Georgie’s life slipping through your fingers to soothe you to sleep every night. You want to carry the pleasure of giving your former husband a reason for his rampant jealous streak and know that for once there was nothing he could do about it. You want this living man to make this strange and terrifying day to end in bliss and solidify everything like lightning striking sand.  

You lift your head and run your dripping red hand through his pristine locks. He locks eyes with you and a shiver runs through him as a droplet lands on his nose. “I don’t want to stop, Mr. Lamont. Now be a good guest and fuck me.” 

“Call me Ralphie please,” he breathes, and he’s all too happy to comply. You feel his cock slip between your folds and as he enters you as he promised, you lick your lips and taste cherry and rust. 

“Ralphie… Ralphie…” He loves the sound of his name on your lips, the squishing sound of your lovely womanhood taking everything he gives it. He puts a single hand on your hip leans back to take it all in: the bloody kitchen, the stiff, the lecherous moans, the sweat making his shirt stick to his back, the misleading cleanliness of the back of your dress…

Mr. Lamont runs his hand through the slime in his hair but that blood is already drying. He splashes it into the pool next to you and leaves a bloody print on your back, holding you down to the counter by your shoulder and driving his hips into you harder. 

He can hear you’re close by the crescendo of your voice. He’s close too, and ever the gentleman, he slips out of you and flips you onto your back, pulling up a dainty leg in your daze so he can re enter your heat like he belonged there. He’s resumed fucking you in mere seconds and he likes this position because now he can see your eyes roll back into your head. 

“Where do you want it,” he grunts out. He’s trying not to come but he doesn’t have the willpower to slow down. He needs your answer, and fast...

For a moment your eyes go hard. Mr. Lamont gulps and worries for a second you’re going to pull the steak knife out of your husband’s throat to slit his, but instead you take a hold of his hair and pull his head back into an awkward but commanding angle. 

He feels your breath ghost over his neck. “My house, my rules. Make me see stars and I’ll tell you when to stop.” 

You sink your teeth into his neck and reach down to circle your pearl. Mr. Lamont does as he’s told, hissing and grunting but he holds off his release to give you exactly what you want. 

He has to stop thrusting when you start those delicious rhythmic tremors. He has to hold you up as you throw your head back and lose your balance, dependent on him to keep you upright. He takes over rubbing your pearl with a similar pressure as the one he watched you give yourself, and eased you back down from heaven into the bloody abyss on earth. 

For a second Ralph fears you’ve got too much control. What will he do if you tell him not to come at all? He’ll do as you command, of course, but how cruel were you going to treat him now that you’ve gotten what you wanted? He’s seen your handiwork all around, remember that. 

But your eyes turn soft and he’s worried you’re about to cry, that is until he watches you slip down to your bruised knees and ease your dress down your shoulders. Now you look positively debauched, breast bared and eyes turned up with a pleading look. 

“Finish on me, Ralphie.” You bit your lip and hope to god he’s still listening. “Right over my heart.” 

Ralph Lamont has never whimpered before. He’s doing it right now. How the fuck did he end up like this? 

He strokes his cooling cock, taking everything in from his position above you and feeling his drumming heartbeat in the throbbing of his member. The only word going through his head is yes

Ralphie gives one of you tits a squeeze, then gets an idea

It's a little awkward trying to get you to understand, but you catch on and there's this eager glow in your eyes

You help him slot his cock between your breasts and continue to jerk him off, using your hands as necessary to assist

He's not far now seeing you-- feeling you like that

Ralphie comes with a groan, a white rope painting your chin and splattering cockeyed down over your neck and onto the tops of your breasts. He has to catch himself on the counter as the next rope dribbles lower, half slipping into your cleavage and the rest staining the neckline of your ruined dress. His hips jerk once, twice. You let him slip from your embrace and twist your hand over the head just to milk whatever he has left into your mouth, and then he collapses into a heap beside you. 

You let him catch his breath for a minute, then grasp his jaw and turn his head towards you. You’re looking down your nose at him again and his vulnerable eyes beg for more. 

“Now look what you’ve done,” you gesture to the milky essence covering your skin in mock annoyance. “Clean it up like a good boy.” 

Eyes half lidded, Ralphie leans towards you in a trance, tongue swiping over every pearlescent trail and stray droplet until you’re ‘clean’ again

Completely spent, the man rests his head against your shoulder. Your hands come up to cradle him, stroking his matted hair as if you've not a care in the world

When he's ready he helps you stand up and straightens his clothes

Instead of helping you back into yours he strips you of them

"These will have to be burned, I'm afraid," he tells you. "Go on now, take a nice long bath and I'll call Kevin to see if he can take you somewhere for the night

You have to clear the tub and run it again to get truly clean. All of that grime builds up thick on your skin while you were having your acts of catharsis. 

You slip into a satin frock in your favorite color and let Kevin whisk you away to a movie for the night

As you fix your earring in the rearview mirror, you catch sight of Ralph Lamont on your balcony. He waves down at you leaning against the ledge and unbothered by the state of his clothes. From this far down, it doesn't look like blood

But you know better, don't you?

@hoodoo12 @escape-your-grape

[thatspookyagent]

Affectionate headcanons with Mr. Gallant (Male!Reader)

Requested: Nope!

Warnings: None!

A/N: Decided to write up some soft headcanons for Mr. Gallant with a Male!Reader! I'm honestly not ENTIRELY sure what the Outposts have in them or what are the rooms that we don't see and what do they contain in them, so I hope y'all don't mind me kinda spitballing some of this! Lol just think of it as an AU or sumthen, anyway hope y'all enjoy! :))

Tags: @darlingkitt @sojournmichael @xavierplympton

(If you want to be added to my permanent tag list, just shoot me an ask or message!) :))

Important: Whatever the reader says is in italics!

Gallant is 100% the little spoon, he just lives for being coddled and wrapped up in someone else's arms no matter his partner's height

If you're shorter than him then he slides underneath you so that your chin rests on top of his head and your legs can wrap around his waist securely

If you're taller then he still slides underneath you but instead plays footsies with you beneath the covers while you tickle him here and there

One of his favorite cuddling positions is to lay with his back against your chest and at an angle so that his weight isn't completely on you while he rants about his day and anyone who got on his nerves

He absolutely loves talking shit about his grandma as you rub his shoulders and comfort him, reassuring him that he's incredibly strong and brave for enduring her existence

He'd also discuss his job as a hairstylist before the nuke hit, the two of you would laugh together as he tells stories about clients rushing to him because they were having a really bad hair day, or he'd talk about the time some rich lady's expensive poodle got loose and she had to chase it across the street while half of her head had rollers in it and meanwhile the other half was dripping wet

Occasionally you'd notice a certain glint in his eyes appearing from to time as he talked about his profession, one day you asked him what was wrong, and he started to cry but he quickly reassured you that everything was fine

"You sure hon?" "Yeah. I just...sometimes I miss everything. Everything I had before the world went to shit yanno? I mean I know I was still dealing with my shitty grandma but I still had my clients to distract me. You're literally the only good thing to come out of this whole Outpost situation. Thank God for that."

Beaming from ear to ear, he'd kiss the top of your hand, making the area tingle for a bit as he laid against you while the both of you look up at the ceiling, most likely dreaming of future events to come

At times your late night conversations with him would turn into talks about the possibility of being fathers together which admittedly made Gallant anxious but he was completely open to it

"I mean, lets just say that we became parents? Wouldn't that be exciting? The two of us taking care of new life within a place surrounded by death?" He stares upwards as a smile grew across his face, a soft string of laughs coming from his mouth as he went on about how he would teach his kid to style hair

You two make up stupid little question games were you both take turns asking each other questions, no matter how stupid

"So like...what scares you the most? And you can't say your grandma's bunion covered feet!" "Bad hair days." "Gallant... seriously..." "OKAY OKAY IT'S ACTUALLY GOING BALD. I JUST WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO PULL OFF A RECEDING HAIRLINE DAMMIT!"

An unlikely habit that you found out Gallant had was his tendency to hum softly into your neck, similar to a cat purring as he'd rub his soft and short stubble against your chin

You noticed that whatever record was playing in the sitting room area tended to be the tune he'd hum, whether it was while he held you in his arms and swayed back and forth or during nap time which became a way to help both of you fall asleep much easier

When it's time to eat or socialize with the other Outpost members, you two aren't shy when it comes to showing affection in front of the others which technically doesn't have a rule against it

Gently pushing up Gallant's purple shades whenever they start to slightly slide of the bridge of his nose and in return he likes to fix and adjust your outfit here and there whenever he notices that it's off or needs maintenance

Making sure to rub his back when you see him getting visibily upset during the shitty cube dinners and just reminding him that the two of you will make it through all of this while at each other's side

He gets serious anxiety and stress from being cooped up in the same place all the time while the world is shit so you decide to make little songs out of the tunes he occasionally hums

Now you're the one who's softly singing to him while he tries to sleep after a long day, which is his favorite time to place his head on your chest and close his eyes while he feels the vibrations flowing throughout his body

Whenever he's in a much better mood, he'll offer to slow dance with you while in the privacy of his room

If you're shorter than him then he places his forehead onto yours while his arms are wrapped your sides

If you're taller than him then he places his head around your collarbone while his arms are wrapped your hip area

Sneaking away in order to have soft make of sessions with him, in which one of your favorite things to do is twiddle his one earring within your fingers gently as his caress your entire body

If you two are making out in his room, then he definitely throws out some dirty talk here and there which you sometimes reciprocate and it drives him nuts

Gallant doesn't really mind you ruffling up his hair but he likes to pretend that he hates it, he'll make a big fuss while you give him little noogies but soon he is a mess of hiccuping giggles

He's kinda tender when it comes to getting his head touched so things like noogies and hair stroking is actually very intimate and shows how much he trusts you within the relationship

Probably the thing that sends him to sleep the fastest and deepest is singing to him while running your hands through his hair, not a worry on his mind as he snores softly within your lap

Kisses on top of his head give him immense butterflies, similar to the hair touching it's something that he only lets you do to him

One of Gallant's largest kinks love languages is words of affirmation, the quickest way to his heart being praise and having terms of endearment being applied to him

An assortment of pet names and uplifting words will instantly make his heart flutter and his body fill with heat, things like "Good boy" "My beautiful boy" and anything to do with calling him handsome will immediately put a grin on his face

If he does something, no matter how minor, and you compliment his performance, it always brightens up his day especially on ones he feels the most useless and unproductive

Gallant is quite fond of long warm baths with plenty of foamy bubbles surrounding him and candles around the tub that illuminate the both of you as he melts into your chest

Sometimes he's so relaxed that he falls asleep, gently resting against you as you plant delicate kisses onto his bleach blonde hair while stroking his arms

If you're feeling particularly brave, you'll secretly steal some Outpost supplies and make your boyfriend some edible face masks to enjoy with his baths

He really seems to vibe with them and appreciates how you smuggled really good cucumbers and face rub so that Gallant could not only look good but eat good

Eventually you would succumb to your playful desires, while enjoying the peaceful silence you'd randomly tickle attack him from behind causing the vegetables to fall from his face and plop into the bath water below

The entire bathroom would fill Gallant's snorting laughter as you manage to pin him softly against the bath tub wall, nipping at the mask that covered his face then eventually migrating to his silver earring

At some point the white haired male moved to grab your face, lifting it up and forward slightly so that he could place a tender kiss on your lips and soon the two of you would completely forget about bathing and even the apocalypse itself as you embrace and test the strict rules within Outpost 3

[bestbonnist]

Chapter 152.2

Weekly Shounen Magazine's on break this week and I predicted that Ooima would break last week anyways so technically taking two weeks to write this was a smart idea that keeps my metas spaced out evenly and not the result of me being too tired to do any work for most of that time.

I haven't thought about it from that angle before but yeah, of course Fushi would be jealous of someone who has a parent who cares about them unconditionally. Even the trophy thing is a non-issue—they would honestly prefer being a trophy and doted on for doing their job than floundering around while the Beholder narrates their mistakes like they're in a nature documentary. They haven't run into this problem before because none of their friends have really had great (in their opinion) families. To the extent that it was a bonding experience between Fushi, Gugu, and Rynn and Fushi and Tonari.

Also about Fushi being jealous: this is something they would normally never share with anyone, especially Mizuha because they think of her as someone they have to save. The one time they tried to reach out to her for genuine friendship she rejected them (I'm referencing the mud ball scene when they last talked). But they've been consciously trying to treat Mizuha as, if not quite a friend, then an equal. These past two chapters the two of them have been positioned opposite each other sitting down, even though Fushi would probably rather be in a more alert standing position and Mizuha by all means probably should be lounging on the throne behind her. But she chose to stay on the ground with them instead.

Anyways my point is that rather than physical proof of trust like taking off their rope, Fushi wants to prove their trust to Mizuha by confiding in her. It matches Mizuha's way of taking control by pretending to give it away, by displaying weakness. Jealousy is a very human emotion so it counts as weakness for them and Mizuha, who's also jealous of them, Yuuki, Tonari, and even Hanna. But she'd never say that out loud because it would be cringe.

I really like the middle panel of Izumi's knocker and Mizuha. Something about its hand on her shoulder, how they're squished into the same panel together, and the way their heads are slightly inclined towards each other is both sweet and eerie. It reminds me of a family portrait.

You can here see that Mizuha has to struggle to raise her right arm to reach for the photo album. And her left hand is the one that slams it shut with a weird amount of force for a person who's crying. She even cradles her left hand later, like it used too much force or it did something she didn't want it to do. Although this could interpreted as evidence that the left hand can control Mizuha's body without her permission, I thought it proved that unless indicated otherwise (Mizuha speaking formally, Mizuha receiving a shock then acting strange, Mizuha mentioning "missing time"—not accounting for the possibility that she or the left hand are faking) Mizuha is the one in charge and is aware of what she's doing.

This is a good example of Fushi using their own experiences to understand the feelings of others. I've pointed out how in the past assuming they know what other people want has ended badly for them, but now they're just listening to what other people have to say, connecting it to their own emotions, and acting accordingly. Here, it's only because Fushi found a similarity between themselves and Izumi that they're able to provide context to the photo album for Mizuha.

Small clarification on why Mizuha didn't react to her gift the way Fushi hoped: Fushi feels like they need to relive happy memories that have become painful so that they never forget the people they love. They're fine if it hurts because they want to punish themselves for not being able to save their friends who've died. Besides, they're not human, so that's a moot point anyways. Even though the photos of her with Izumi move her like Fushi expected, Mizuha won't accept anything that doesn't contribute to her short-term happiness. She undervalues sadness while Fushi overvalues it.

Who could have foreseen that letting a group of middle school kids find their own way out of an underground base would end with them being captured...

"You're all talk," Mizuha says, as if she's not also all talk. She hasn't even killed anyone yet and she's acting like she's hot shit.

But really, although Mizuha's words to Hanna were harsh, like they've been with Fushi, she literally couldn't look at her while she was saying them. It felt more like she was sad and genuinely confused about what Hanna was doing there.

What was this... I wanted to make a comparison between "I'm not expecting anything from you" and something from earlier in the manga but I think I confused FnAe with Evangelion. To be fair they deal with a lot of similar concepts but the genres are way different (for now) so this is very pathetic of me. But although there's not anything specific I can compare it in FnAe, I think Mizuha's not entirely done testing Hanna. The fact that she's saying out loud "I'm not expecting anything from you" in itself is a clue that she's expecting something.

Whoever's in Fushi's body is doing an interesting job that's for sure. It looks about as fucked up as they do but in an entirely different way. Seeing the nameless boy's body with human eyes again is disconcerting, especially since he had lighter irises and these are dark. I'm hoping that it's Fuuna's knocker because I really like Fuuna's knocker and I think it's the most capable knocker we've seen so far. As for what it's doing there... probably killing two birds with one stone by ruining Fushi's life and murdering students.

Interesting how Mizuha's been treating the H.O.R.C. coldly and insisting that they don't care about her, when if it's true that Fushi's knocker is going to be killing people, then she must prefer that they stay alive. If death is the epitome of peace, then Mizuha's doing her friends a disservice by not killing them too. But the fact that Mizuha would rather wait for the physical world to be perfect than just die and go to Paradise shows that she doesn't think death is an entirely good thing. She also maintained good posture and a calm demeanor after the H.O.R.C. appeared despite not even trying to keep her composure in front of Fushi. She still doesn't want Hanna and Yuuki to see how much she's changed.

Bon, who has bodyguards, knows about the knocker situation, and is fine sticking a sword in a kid, is currently overseas, leaving us with Tonari and Fuuna (maybe). Tonari doesn't have her poison immunity (which probably wouldn't matter anyways unless the knockers are planning to drug her—which they might do if they need a hostage) and I doubt she's as fit as she was as an adult. Wait, Fuuna actually needs to be involved otherwise Tonari wouldn't be able to kill the knocker because she doesn't know to use explosives. Who's ready for them to blow someone up and get arrested.

Anyways this is really exciting because as I've said like fifteen times now if Fushi murders someone in public that's a problem on its own but on top of that they're a famous historical/religious figure. Easily recognizable. Someone's going to figure out they're immortal and that'll be an even bigger problem. And the only reason the knockers were able to do this now is because Fushi chose to let their guard down as a display of trust which Mizuha was confident she could get them to do otherwise they wouldn't have prepared this plan FUCK. She literally... it's because Fushi claims that they would do anything to make her happy. Regardless of whether or not they actually would, once she calls them out on it they have to follow through.

[tinisprout]

No Doubt in Us

Chapter Two - She Has Amnesia *written chapter below*

Masterlist | Prev | Next

Fiance!Haknyeon x Fem!reader

Synopsis: Life is great, you have your dream job, you finally got your first big break, and you are now engaged to the love of your life. Happier than you’ve ever been, you live life one day at a time. Then one day a terrible accident happens leaving you in a coma. Where you finally awake, everything is not as you remember. Amnesia takes away 3 years of your memory, forgetting your beloved Fiance. Faced with a reality that seems unreal, as your mind is stuck in a past with uncomfortable memories, your future with him is uncertain.

Send me an ask if you want to be put on a taglist for this series.

Word count: 2.3K

Warning: none

The House you were met with was unfamiliar, thank goodness Chanhee was here to give a quick tour of the house. You came across some familiar things, but most you didn’t recognize. Chanhee helped you explain the situation to your parents and you agreed to see each other sometime next week. They both had taken a lot of time off work to see you during your stay in the hospital, so you told them to just hold off for a while, promising them that you were fine.

You were thankful for the painkillers you had, or it would have been impossible to wash by yourself, though they made you feel a little drowsy. As a precaution, Chanhee stayed in case you had an accident by yourself. Getting cleaned up felt refreshing, but you didn’t take too long or your mind would wander. You stepped out of the shower covering yourself with a towel and stood in front of the mirror. Wiping the steam-filled mirror, you brought your face closer to the mirror, examining yourself for the second time today.

Your hand lightly grazed over a scabbed-up wound on your forehead. Sliding your hand down your fingers glide across your features, it’s similar but different. Turning your head at different angles you could see your looks had matured a little. It was you no matter how you poked and pulled at your skin. Letting these smaller changes bother you wasn’t going to help you any, so you backed away from the mirror and went out of the bathroom.

You looked around your room, Chanhee showed you around but it was just a quick introduction, you didn’t get to examine everything. The room consisted of a big dresser with a mirror hung behind it, a hanger rack, a queen-sized bed next to the big window that showed almost the whole of downstairs, and a smaller window with a view of outside, in front of the window was a small desk and chair. You looked at the things strewn about the top of the dresser. There were perfumes and colognes, lotions, makeup, and birth control. You took birth control before you met Haknyeon so you weren’t shocked to see it.

Picking it up you pop one out of the packaging swallowing the pill. Damn, how long has it been since I last took one? Hopefully, my next period isn’t too bad. The main reason you started taking birth control was to regulate your period and make it lighter, you weren’t sexually active. You weren’t against it you just hadn’t found someone you felt comfortable enough to go all the way with, your desire to do it wasn’t very high either. Your thoughts drifted to Haknyeon, have we… No! Not the time for this. I can worry about that later.

After a search through the dresser, you grab your underwear putting it on. You looked at the clothes hung up, some of them you recognized, some you didn’t but they were in your taste. You opt to put on some comfy clothes, it was still too early for pajamas. Going downstairs where Chanhee waits for you, he lays on your couch messing with his phone. Chanhee sits up making room for you. Taking the free spot you lean back sighing.

“Sorry for taking up your free day.”

“I was planning to visit you later anyway, I’m just glad you're back. I’ll leave when Haknyeon comes back, He should wake up soon enough.”

“So… tell me about this Fiance.” You looked at your ring finger staring at the indent left on it. Reminded by your action, Chanhee took your ring out of his pocket and handed it to you.

“Put it in your pocket. Find someplace to keep it later.” You followed his orders, putting it in your pocket. He kept the ring for safekeeping after finding out you discarded it. When he heard what you had said to Haknyeon in full, he was shocked and felt bad for both Haknyeon and you. He thought for a bit, “Haknyeon is kind, like, really kind, and caring to others, so much so to the point that he sometimes neglects himself. He can be very emotional. He is a smiley person, always a positive thinker. Honest to a fault at times. A bit of a worrier, but generally free-spirited and carefree. He is kinda a goofball with his friends. Just like you, a hard worker, he is always pushing himself. And his appetite, he is a foodie if I ever met one, he will literally eat anything...anything.” You took some time to process all that he said, trying to imagine the man you saw acting in the ways Chanhee mentioned.

“Hmm.” Hearing your awkward reply Chanhee changed the subject. Talking about miscellaneous things as time passed, you both eventually became hungry.

“I can order something, I don’t really feel like cooking and you shouldn’t try cooking yet.”

“Okay.” Chanhee gets up, going on his phone while pacing around the room. Unbeknownst to you, Chanhee text’s back Haknyeon.

C: Yes, I'm still with her, and glad you’re ok.

H: Thanks, Hyunjae is taking me back home now.

C: I’ll leave when you get here, also tell Hyunjae I said hi

H: will do.

After he finishes texting Haknyeon he glances back at you, now laying across the couch. Then he actually starts ordering food.

In the car sat Hyunjae driving, Sunwoo in shotgun, and Eric and Haknyeon in the back. After texting Chanhee and leaving the hospital the boys talked about all sorts of things to help Haknyeon get his mind off of you, though it didn’t seem to help much considering his replies would be shorter than normal. Then Haknyeon spoke first.

“Guys, can I just cry right now.” No one answered him as they felt lumps form in their throats. Eric reached over and gently wrapped his arms around Haknyeon. Taking this as his cue he held onto Eric and wept, his whimpers filled the car. Eric rubbed his back, crying silently along with him. Sunwoo shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not sure what to do with himself. Hyunjae gripped the wheel tighter, biting his lip. His friend was crying his heart out and he couldn’t do anything to help him. It was a situation completely out of everyone’s control.

Getting back home to you gave him a mix of emotions. He wanted nothing more than to have you back home, but he never expected you to be in such a condition. When they finally arrived at his house, Haknyeon texted Chanhee one last time before getting out of the car. Hyunjae, Sunwoo, and Eric got out of the car as well. They all surrounded Haknyeon, giving him words of encouragement.

“We’ll be here for you, just talk to us whenever you need.” Sunwoo put a hand on his friend’s shoulder, he gave a small squeeze.

“Thanks, guys. Chanhee is waiting, I'll go inside now.” They all gave him a big group hug before he went, and Haknyeon felt really grateful for his friends.

Chanhee checked his phone and got up from the table after stuffing a few more bites in his mouth. “I gotta go,” he says while covering his full mouth.

“He’s here already?” You wipe your mouth, also standing up.

"Yup, I'm sure he'll come in any second now. The two of you need to talk." You weren't sure what to say, it was very sudden. Chanhee hugged you quickly, "Hey it's gonna be okay, I promise." After pulling away then came the sound of the door being unlocked. In walked the man you met when you woke up. Your eyes met each other for a moment and he looked away at the approaching Chanhee.

“Hey, Chanhee.”

“Haknyeon, I’m glad you’re okay.” Chanhee went in for a hug and Haknyeon returned it. You watched the natural gesture. They must be close, you thought. They parted and Chanhee went to the door saying goodbye to the both of you, closing the door behind him. With that, you two were alone together for the second time today.

“We should talk shouldn’t we?” You said offering an awkward smile, feeling nervous.

“Yeah.” You moved back to the couch leaving the food on the table, you would take care of it later. Haknyeon followed after you but did not sit on the couch but instead on the floor, across the coffee table that was in front of the couch. Haknyeon checks your hand, the ring still missing from it. He clenched his fists in his lap, he should have expected that, but it still broke his heart to see.

“Today I’ve been told a lot of new information about myself and I’m not sure what to think of a lot of it. It seems surreal, like a dream, but everything I see just confirms it’s real. I- I want to try and remember these things about my life,” About the things I’ve accomplished. “But I need some time to adjust to everything here,” In this house with you. “I’m going to need some space, to think about what I want,” And I don’t know if I want you. Many words were left unsaid, but you didn’t know what else you could say?

“I- I understand. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable in your own home, so don’t worry, I won’t force you into anything.” Those words gave you a little comfort and you thanked him. “I will be going back to work tomorrow, so you probably won’t see me, but call me if you need anything.”

“Okay, sorry for the trouble in advance.” Haknyeon looked you in the eyes, you looked the same save for a few still healing scars, but your distant attitude towards him hurt even though he tried to prepare for it.

“I’m going to go take a shower.” He was generally a clean boy, but since your hospitalization taking care of himself was less of a priority. He would take care of himself when your mother would show concern every time your parents came to visit you. She would always be sure to cook him something and remind him to clean up saying things like, ‘When she wakes up, she’ll be so sad to see you like this, please take care of yourself.’ Thinking about her words now was like a laugh in the face, even if he looked his best it wouldn’t have mattered.

“Ah, then I’ll stay down here then.” The only shower in the house was in your shared room. Needless to say, you wouldn’t be waiting in the room for him.

As Haknyeon washed the filth from his body he thought about what he would do starting tomorrow. He didn’t need to go to work Saturday and Sunday, but he would so he could give you your desired space. He was going to do it for you, at least that’s what he told himself, it was true for the most part. Getting out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist, he walked to the big window next to the bed that exposed a view of downstairs. His eyes searched for you, finding you standing at the sliding door leading to the backyard, staring at something unknown. He turned and walked away so he could get changed. You felt eyes on you, so you turned around and looked at the window to the bedroom, but all you saw was the back of a head before it disappeared. You decided to sit back down on the couch before he came back down.

Haknyeon came back downstairs with clothes on and a towel hanging off his head. He roughly rubbed at his damp hair and sat in the same spot as before. He looked up at you the towel covering his head like a hood, he looked a little sad like that. “You can sleep in the bedroom, I can take the couch.”

“Oh, but-”

“You don’t want to sleep in the same room do you?” He was right, you didn’t, so you kept your mouth shut instead. “It’s fine, I understand. Besides, you are the recovering patient, not me.” Well technically, he also got discharged from the hospital today, but you knew what he was trying to say, you wouldn’t try to argue again.

“Okay, thank you. Um, if you’re hungry, Chanhee ordered some food, I put it away in the fridge.”

“Alright, thank you for letting me know.” Strangely enough, he wasn’t that hungry and didn’t really feel like eating. Going back upstairs to your room you look at the bed it was neatly made, you wondered if that was your doing or his. You looked out the window and your eyes looked at Haknyeon making his bed on the couch and then your eyes fell to the sill, it was dusty. Is that normal? No, surely I would clean it. How long has it been since someone has used this room? You decided to not think about it too deeply, you would clean it later. With those thoughts, you went into bed and let sleep take you.

You would never know that when Haknyeon would come home from the hospital, he couldn’t sleep peacefully. He would stay up through the night sitting in the living room thinking about you, wondering when you would wake up, waiting for visiting hours to start again. There would be points where he would fall asleep and he was haunted with nightmares of a crash he never witnessed. Sometimes you would call for help, but he could never reach you. He could only sleep better when he was with you, nightmares would still happen but they would be less often and they felt less traumatic. Thankfully tonight, for the first time in a long time, He dreamt of nothing. But it would be a short-lived peace.

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[starring-movies]

Killing Eve: Episode Analysis

*SPOILERS*

Season 2, Episode 4 - Desperate Times

This episode begins with Konstantin taking Villanelle to the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam. They go to the art museum and Konstantin takes Villanelle and he stands in front of a painting of Adam and Eve by Cornelis van Haarlem, called ‘The Fall of Man’. Villanelle doesn’t really pay attention to the painting but in the shot she is positioned standing in between Adam and Eve, in the place of the serpent. This imagery puts Villanelle in the equivalent place of the serpent, in Eve’s life; she is tempting Eve away from her normal life, as well as away from Niko and her life with him, in the same way as the serpent does. This placement of Villanelle in the shot, in between Adam and Eve in the paining, also visually shows the audience how Villanelle is driving Eve and Niko apart from each other by coming in between the two of them.

Instead of looking at the painting of Adam and Eve, Villanelle is more taken by the painting of ‘The Corpses of the De Witt Brothers’ by Jan de Baen. This is firstly where Villanelle gets the inspiration for her next kill. However, Villanelle being attracted to this painting (rather than ‘The Fall of Man’ that Konstantin is looking at) also symbolises how she knows that her kills and the exciting showmanship she uses when she does them, is what she can use to come in between Eve and Niko (just as she stands between Adam and Eve in the painting) and also what she can use to help her to tempt Eve away from her life (like the serpent).

The song playing just before this scene (when Konstantin meets Villanelle on the bridge at the Leidsegracht canal), and when Konstantin and Villanelle first go to Rijksmuseum is ‘Remember’ by Unloved. The lyrics are:

“Remember me?

Remember them?

Remember that?

That was then,

This is now,

I'm just saying”

The lyrics of the song reflect the majority of Villanelle’s aim in this episode - she is trying to get Eve’s attention and for her to remember her, as she thinks that Eve isn’t interested in her now that she’s got The Ghost.

The lyrics also illustrate Villanelle’s motives for how she carries out the Amsterdam kill. She knows Eve is intrigued and interested in the style and flamboyancy that she uses in her kills, so through the Amsterdam kill she’s trying to provide all of this for Eve to get her to “remember” her.

For the Amsterdam kill, Villanelle dresses up in a dirndl dress and wears a pig mask. She wears the pig mask because she tells Konstantin “you know he’s into farmyard animals”, and so she knows the man will be intrigued by it. She also wears the dirndl dress, which is a traditional German dress that was originally worn by peasants or servants. The word dirndl is a diminutive of the German word “derne”, which originally meant “young woman” but in modern usage has come to mean a “prostitute”.

The origins of the dirndl dress, as well as it being the colour pink (often associated with being a very feminine colour and often a colour for children, but also suitable for the pig theme), shows how Villanelle is cleverly using her costume to make herself seem vulnerable and for her target think that he is superior and in control.

After the Amsterdam kill, Villanelle asks Konstantin “can we go home now?”, to which he replies “home. What do you mean ‘home’? Where is that exactly?” and Villanelle says “I’m going back to London”. Through this exchange we can that Villanelle obviously considers London, and therefore Eve, as her home now.

The central positioning of Villanelle in the shot, the sofa, the blue wall panels behind Villanelle (like the blue windows behind her in the psychological evaluation scene), the colour choices, the glass table, Villanelle’s hairstyle and her outfit are all very similar to the psychiatric evaluation scene from S1E2. The mirroring of the two scenes implies that Konstantin is again evaluating Villanelle and deciding if she’s okay to work, which is further emphasises by Konstantin’s positioning in the scene - he’s stood to Villanelle’s right (out left), in the same position where the psychologist was sat in the psych evaluation scene (and therefore taking the place of the psychologist in this instance).

It’s also a reminder that Konstantin does care about Villanelle and is constantly monitoring her to check that she’s okay. It also indicates that Konstantin is concerned about Villanelle’s ongoing obsession with Eve, as the last time Villanelle was evaluated was when Konstantin was worried that she was being affected by her memories of her relationship with Anna.

While Villanelle is waiting for Eve in a house, on the opposite side of the street to where her kill took place, Unloved’s ‘Her’ is playing. Over the scene we can hear the lyrics:

“I gave my heart to her.

She has my heart”

The lyrics of the song show how much Villanelle loves, or thinks she loves, Eve. As well as this, it also illustrates why Villanelle is so upset at the end of the episode, after Eve doesn’t show up the the crime scene - she feels like she’s given her heart to Eve and thinks Eve has just moved on from her to The Ghost.

When Eve and Hugo are talking outside of the takeaway chicken restaurant, Hugo says to Eve “I got this job for exactly the same reason as you did” and Eve asks what the reason is, which Hugo says was so “I didn’t die of boredom”. This draws yet another parallel between Villanelle and Eve as in Villanelle’s speech as Billie in S2E6, Villanelle similarly remarks that “I’m just so bored”.

During this conversation Hugo also asks Eve “do you like watching her or being watched”, to which Eve replies that it’s “both”. This applies to both Eve and Villanelle as they both like to pursue each other but also like to be pursed, they both like to be the cat and the mouse at the same time.

Yet another parallel between Eve and villanelle is that they both have also resorted to taking substances as a result of being involved with each other. Eve smokes a cigarette with Hugo, which she says she hasn’t done “since college”; and Villanelle takes drugs, which she never does and initially calls “rat poison”.

The scene where Villanelle is choking the girl in the club toilets after she’s taken the drugs, is shot using the same angles as when Villanelle chokes Rhian in S3E8. The choice to use the same angles for the shots link the two scenes through Villanelle’s relationship with Eve. In the club scene Villanelle is choking the girl because she’s upset and taking out her anger from Eve not turning up; and in the scene on the Tube platform with Rhian, she’s choking her to protect Eve.

The parallel between these two instances also serves to show us the progression of Villanelle’s own feelings of killing. In this episode she is willing to kill the girl she is choking for no reason other than she cut in the line for the club toilets; but in contrast in S3E8, Villanelle is visibly upset by having to kill Rhian and is only doing it to protect her and Eve from being killed by The Twelve.

When Eve is preparing to interrogate The Ghost, she is wearing the “sweater attached to a shirt” from S1E5 and has her hair out at first. The sweater and the hair out reminds us of Eve’s encounter with Villanelle in the kitchen in S1E5, however she then ties her hair up in a bun - perhaps showing that she may have lost a little bit of interest in Villanelle, as she goes against what Villanelle told her to do in S1E1 and does not “wear it down”.

In this scene we also get Eve contrasted with Villanelle. They are both looking at themselves in the mirror, however, Eve is the more emotionally strong one who is chasing another assassin and preparing for an interrogation. However, Villanelle is shown as the emotionally weak one, looking at herself in the mirror after a night of taking drugs, and is crying because she thinks Eve doesn’t care about her now.

Villanelle also smiles as she is crying in the mirror. This might be because she realises that she’s finally feeling something. She said to Eve in S1E5 that “I don’t feel things”, she says in S2E6 that “most of the time, most days, I feel nothing”. We are also reminded of this in S2E7 when Eve asks Villanelle “you don’t feel anything?” and Villanelle replies that “I feel things when I’m with you”; so this moment of Villanelle looking at herself crying in the mirror could be the first moment that she truly realises that she doesn’t feel things but she really does feel things when she’s with Eve (and so this is why she starts smiling) - for her to be genuinely crying and to be actually feeling something over Eve (that isn’t just lust or obsession) is probably a revelation for her.

You can read my previous Killing Eve posts here:-

First Introduction to Villanelle

First Introduction to Eve

S1, E1 - Nice Face

S1, E2 - I’ll Deal With Him Later

S1, E3 - Don’t I Know You?

S1, E4 - Sorry Baby

S1, E5 - I Have a Thing about Bathrooms

S1, E6 - Take Me to the Hole!

S1, E7 - I Don’t Want to Be Free

S1, E8 - God, I’m Tired

S2, E1 - Do You Know How to Dispose of a Body?

S2, E2 - Nice and Neat

S2, E3 - The Hungry Caterpillar

S2, E5 - Smell Ya Later

S2, E6 - I Hope You Like Missionary

S2, E7 - Wide Awake

S2, E8 - You’re Mine

S3, E1 - Slowly Slowly Catchy Monkey

S3, E2 - Management Sucks

S3, E3 - Meetings Have Biscuits

S3, E4 - Still Got It

S3, E5 - Are You From Pinner? [Part 1]

S3, E5 - Are You From Pinner? [Part 2]

S3, E6 - End of Game

S3, E7 - Beautiful Monster

S3, E8 - Are You Leading or Am I? [Part 1]

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