#mercy mini series

[air-of-the-waterfall]

Breq's development through Imperial Radch hits me so, so hard.

Justice of Toren spent thousands of years actively serving a violent colonial empire. It annexed planets and took over the bodies of civilians to parade them around and intimidate their surviving communities.

This all eventually comes back to bite One Esk in the ass, finally impacting it directly/personally through the death of Awn. Realizing that everything it has ever known and served is actually evil literally tears One Esk to pieces, and Justice of Toren is destroyed. Ideally, someone shouldn't need to be directly affected by horrific injustice in order to have some compassion and know those injustices are wrong... but it's a start and better than nothing.

Breq then sets off with a personal vendetta against the emperor and no concrete plan whatsoever. She isn't trying to be a hero. She isn't really trying to do anything but express her justifiable rage. Rage that she has been manipulated and taken advantage of by humans, all in service of a nightmarish system that considers her disposable. Rage that the person she loves is dead by her own hand and she can never take that back. She has made and perpetuated so many unforgivable mistakes, because that was the position she was created to fill and she never questioned it.

Yet, she goes on and tries to do what she can for the people she can. She sees through other people's eyes. She knows exactly how the system works and can see through it clearly from the other side. She considers people's needs and uses her position as Fleet Captain and so-called Mianaai to make changes happen to the best of her ability. It is impossible for her to do everything for everyone, but she does what she can. She organizes. She develops an intense understanding of the people around her and a sense of duty towards them until she's not just acting in directionless rage anymore.

She cannot be "redeemed" for the things she did as Justice of Toren, no matter how poorly she too was treated. She does not expect anyone she hurt to sing her praises, and she's still not a hero. There is no magic solution for every injustice in the galaxy... but Breq does all she can as one person, and that has to be enough. She is one person... but she is one of many.

[raayllum]

God now I’m thinking about the general parallels between 1x07 with Rayla and The Queen’s Mercy with Kim’Dael because like

Going to something Sunfire related in hopes of aid?

“Please,” she said, letting her voice crack. “Please—I come without malice! Without weapons! I am at the mercy of the sun!”

The guard balked, his eyes wide.

“I beg of you,” Kim’dael cried. “Take me to Queen Aditi!”

Operating under false pretenses?

Kim’dael pretended that their gazes burned. She pretended she was ashamed. She pulled her hood over her head to hide her face—and the smirk upon her lips. [...] “I am not worthy of forgiveness.” Kim’dael shook her head and briefly shut her eyes as though she held back a fit of weeping. “My crimes are myriad, it is true—but my sorrow is infinite. Should you compel the dragons to spare me, my Queen, I pledge all of my remaining days to repaying your mercy. Look into my eyes and you will see only repentance! Only truth!”

Being horribly burned?

Suddenly it was as though the queen’s hand closed around Kim’dael’s neck, burning as hot as the sun itself. Kim’dael reeled back, screaming, the world turned red with pain. Her skin blistered. She could smell the charring of her own flesh.

She clawed at her neck and found a clasp of metal wrapping from her throat to the back of her neck, still molten, searing her flesh as it cooled. Kim’dael writhed with agony on the floor, swallowing pain and the taste of fire.

Seemingly unbreakable chains

“I did not lie. That collar claims you as mine, and as I told you, the dragons know better than to risk my wrath.” Aditi gestured to the thing around Kim’dael’s neck. “Forgiveness shall not come easily to one so stained with blood as you, Kim’dael. Not without a price. It is as you said: you will spend all of your remaining days repaying my mercy. You shall owe a mercy debt. A debt owed to me—and all my rightful heirs. [...] But know this: the binding around your neck—it is made with magic not unlike your own. It is a magic that demands, that takes. Kill me, and that binding will take you. It will tighten until the life is choked out of you forever.”

Being left on your knees?

But where Kim’Dael is always self serving and deceptive, Rayla is merciful and sincere/genuine. And it’s just -- aah it’s so good

[slashonmydash]

I learned the World Sailing Championships will be held in my city starting this week and different events will be held including free movie screenings. Now which boat movie did they opt to show to get people enthused about boats and sailing?

The Mercy

[darksvster]

okay i was asked to post this on tumblr since i posted a mini essay about it on twitter so here it is, i added some more examples and elaborated on my points that i couldn't over twitter.

so, when i first watched episode 207 i thought it was weird how religious rhaenyra was, until ryan condal mentioned the cult imagery. now i think instead of the show making her paranoid and neurotic in the final arc, they're going to make her more of a cult leader figure.

i think rather than leaning into her paranoia and the idea of a "hysterical paranoid mother" after she loses her sons, they're going to have her drink her own kool-aid more and more. it's interesting that this is what emma and ryan discuss in this scene with the dragonseeds in the inside the episode.

i think it's interesting that instead of the show positioning her like "a leader amongst the smallfolk," this episode positions her in a darker light, like someone who is manipulating the people there for her own goals. and when vermithor turns on the bastards, she doesn't let them run, the guards keep them barricaded in.

she is literally enraptured by the fire in these scenes. now that she knows it's possible for others to claim the dragons, she has been vindicated and wants more. this is not a merciful queen who is reaching out a hand to the smallfolk, she's throwing stuff at the wall and seeing what sticks. after all, these are just smallfolk. bastards with no honor. ryan literally describes the scene as a ritual sacrifice.

and who do you conduct sacrifice for? the gods. but in this case, the gods the seven or the old gods, they aren't even just dragons, but the fact that rhaenyra sees herself in the dragons. she says as much in the literal pilot of the episode when viserys asks her what she sees when she looks at the dragons. she understands the power they wield.

she knows that their power lies in the dragons. but she doesn't reflect viserys' belief that they are a power that man never shouldn't have trifled with. she leans into the chaos and fire and blood of the dragons, we see that in the sowing, clearly.

rhaenyra inherited the worst of both viserys and daemon and that will lead to her madness. she's got viserys' strong belief in prophecy (one now exacerbated by her desperation).

we see that faith in the prophecy falter but never truly fade. rhaenyra has always taken is seriously, to the point that everything she's done this season is in response to the prophecy. her pacifism isn't just due to avoiding bloodshed. she makes it clear to jace that before plunging the realm into war she had to know there was no other option because of the burden of the prophecy.

even though daemon has never believed in prophecy or superstition. she's also got daemon's desire and lust for power and strength (something she confessed wanting specifically because daemon is a man when she was speaking to mysaria).

it's a great deconstruction of the chosen one archetype to have her drink this koolaid and believe herself the chosen one only to have that belief corrupt her. emma d'arcy speaks on this in their interview with gq when discussing rhaenyra's growing fanaticism.

I think something that has been happening for Rhaenyra throughout the series is a growing religious fanaticism. After her father’s death, there is this desire to be connected to him in some way. And losing him happens at the same moment as having her throne usurped. And so that thing that would have been such a direct connection to him is also stolen. So in lieu of that, there’s that searching [through] the histories. I think imagining that at some point her name will feature next to her father’s is in some way comforting, and I find it very moving to see a person who in grief has committed themselves to the history books. As the series goes on, I think we see her more and more invested in her faith. She returns to the old gods. I think all of these actions are in search of her right; the thing that she thought she had received from her father, she is looking for evidence again and again. And part of it, I’m sure, is a choice. I think sometimes in times of loss, we can choose the anchors that we are going to cling to, and her faith becomes one. But I think there’s a narcissism in it. I think her connection with her religion is about wanting to reinforce a divine right. And I think, looking at [episode] seven when this miracle takes place, and this man claims Seasmoke, I think she feels that it’s a gift from the gods. I think it’s what allows her to ride roughshod over Jace’s very legitimate concerns about his own status. I think it’s what allows her to stage a massacre, essentially. She feels that she is riding on the wings of her faith. But her faith, and her belief that she is the ruler that is supposed to sit on that throne, are completely enmeshed.

They continue:

What is going through Rhaenyra’s mind as she watches the Targaryen bastards be devoured and torched alive? I think she feels like a god. I think she feels super proud. I mean, I think it’s uncomfortable. I think there’s something, actually, also that ties into the religiosity — even being back in proximity to dragons, to that fire, is to somehow be living her birthright. To be soaking up the divine, somehow. And do you think that she feels as though the decision to essentially stage a massacre, as you say, is vindicated when the two new bastard dragonriders are found? Totally. Without a shadow of a doubt. I mean, it’s horrendous, but I think she is now this sort of emboldened fanatic, [and] I think she’s experiencing events within a far bigger timeline. She’s imagining the history books. And you know, what’s happening right in front of her is awful. But in 300-400 years, what will be documented is possibly a very short war; a huge civil war that was averted, that this was the first ruling queen, that this ruling Targaryen queen expanded the Targaryen’s ability to have dragons within their armoury.

emma's read on this supports what we see on screen when it comes to rhaenyra's newly found zealousness. the religious aspect could lead her to do things that might have been seen as atrocities by her. it could lead to mysaria abandoning her, her riders turning on her, and we would see more of that targ madness.

gods are mentioned several times in 207. first by addam, who says that the gods are calling him to greater things. rhaenyra has never been the extremely religious sort but, in this scene, she looks like she's had a moment of clarity.

importantly, rhaenyra doesn't know who addam's father is, or hugh's or ulf's. this is simply the first time in history that a non-targaryen (at least in her eyes) has claimed dragons. it's something that she believed impossible. it can feel like destiny to the desperate and she's been extremely desperate after losing daemon, rhaenys, and continuous loss after loss with no hope of recourse.

mysaria says that rhaenyra is lucky addam chose to bend the knee to her rather than himself. and her reply is that it is ordained. this religious vocabulary being used is intentional!

her complaint against the lowborn is that there is an ancient fealty from highborn houses. she essentially implies that bastards do not have honor. mysaria corrects her by pointing out that her legitimate half-brothers aegon and aemond aren't exactly delights, but that doesn't make rhaenyra see the light. instead she recognizes that there's fealty to be had from lowborn people too. the order of things have changed, as mysaria says, so she realizes that she can lift up people who have been historically stepped on and give power to the powerless, calling them her army of bastards.

but when jace calls this out, predicting that someone (perhaps hugh?) could lay claim to her throne if she legitimizes these bastards if not by name then by offering them the power of gods. obviously, jace's concern is real, his entire legitimacy lies on both viserys' past support and also the fact that he has a dragon of his own. if any bastard can claim one, what does that make him? but rhaenyra's response isn't logical. she believes that the throne is part of her and her son's destiny. their right.

for years, on some level, rhaenyra has believed that even though people have insulted her sons, they are full-blooded targaryens. she says herself that if she was a man she could father a dozen bastards, and as heir, she gives birth to three without hesitation. these aren't strongs or velaryons to her, her sons are targaryens.

but even when jace essentially begs his mother not to give commoners dragons, bringing up her past sins and pointing out his own struggle knowing that he's harwin strong's son, her response is somewhat cold. she says now that the gods have laid this in front of her and she has no choice.

the dragonkeepers call what she's doing blasphemy and note that it isn't the gods who brought the dragonseeds to her, but she herself has done that.

Dragonkeeper Elder: This is an abomination. You sent an Andal before a dragon. The judgment was delivered. Now you would send more. Rhaenyra: Ser Steffon Darklyn was the blood of the dragon. Dragonkeeper Elder: It was a blasphemy. He was no dragonlord. Neither are these. Rhaenyra: And yet the gods have set them before us. Dragonkeeper Elder: You have set them before yourself! The dragons are sacred; they are the last magic of Old Valyria in this sad world. They are not pieces on a board for the games of men. Our order will take no part in this.

to the dragonkeepers, she's using these bastards and dragons like chess pieces in her war. but to rhaenyra, who has seen addam claim seasmoke, it seems like this is a divine right — a sign from the gods. and that's proven again when hugh claims vermithor.

addam claiming seasmoke changed everything for her. she talks about claiming a dragon as a transformation, and, in many ways, this claiming has transformed her as well. she tells the dragonseeds that their purpose now is the end the hardships of war.

she paints a lovely image promising them peace at the end, but it is a wholly false image. with vermithor and silverwing now in her arsenal, there will be more suffering, more bloodshed. there are no promises of peace now that the war has been given to the dragons, not until everyone is dead. and if that happens, well, the gods willed it, not her.

in this moment, when she says "may the gods bless you" i have to wonder, is she talking about the seven? or the valyrian gods? or the dragons? i don't think she's fully in deep, but i can see the set up for a much darker storyline for rhaenyra rather than the book plot. every time her beliefs are proven or something impossible happens, that could reinforce her zealousness.

i have always said that rhaenyra is a combination of viserys and daemon, and i think that still. i think that she has both of their madnesses within her. as she loses more, the only thing she'll have to hold onto is that prophecy and the divine right she believes in now.

even this scene from the finale promo has over-the-top messiah, chosen apostles, last supper vibes. her saying "i have entrusted you with a power only few have known" as if she wasn't desperate for them and had no say in who the dragons chose. i love it!

honestly i'm totally here for it, i think it's an exciting direction to take. i don't think rhaenyra was always like this, she might have had the proclivity for it growing up under viserys' wing, but it's the war that's pushed her to this point. desperate people will turn to things like faith in order to guide them when the real world disappoints. i think it's a far more nuanced look at a sort of "madness".

and i'm here for the conflict that will happen with daemon as a result. i think daemon will be in direct opposition to this. he's NOT the type to follow cult leaders. this will be their conflict on top of the existing power struggles. this, to me, is far more interesting of a struggle as opposed to nettles causing romantic tension. this show has a tendency to lean away from harmful stereotypes about women. pitting woman against woman is one of them, as is the hysterical woman.

daemon dying for her could be a form of devotion, or perhaps even a command from a delusional rhaenyra who believes he will survive it. daemon could end up drinking the kool-aid too after the devastations of the war or simply realize that this is the last thing he can offer to someone who is too far gone to be saved.

THIS IS THE FIRE I WANT FOR RHAENYRA. this is the mad queen setup that we could have had! targ exceptionalism and completely going off the deep end as a way of coping with an unwinnable conflict. without viserys, without rhaenys, no one is there to temper the fire within her.

[1-800-kami]

R U MINE? feat gojo satoru (II)

gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it. 

that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…

“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”

IMPORTANT: this is part TWO (and the final part) of the r u mine? mini series. make sure to read part one of this fic before proceeding! :)

content: 5.4k words, afab!reader, rich college frat boy gojo, SMUT (fingering & unprotected sex.. wrap it before u tap it kids!) ANGST, (i listened to deftones while writing the breakup era LMAOO i was in my feels 😔) gojo "everything reminds me of her" satoru is really going thru it, idk how to feel about the ending tbh, cheating implications, kinda proofread ig, more emo gojo (u luv to see it)

author's note: guys. where do i even start?? first of all, thank u for all the support on the first part of this mini series!! we also hit 100 followers on this blog so tysm for supporting me n my writing <3 here's the long awaited part two (n also the finale) as i promised that i would get it out over the weekend! just a quick announcement that i may be a little bit more inactive from here on out.. mainly because classes r starting again nd im starting to get busier. i do have more fic plans though, (and a geto smut in my drafts? 👀) so i'll make time to write when i can! happy reading and thank u for all the support on this silly little series :)

tags: @soley613 @feariteriu @bear-likes-mushrooms @96jnie @keilaq1 @whydohumansss @luftyluft @fatbootymuncher (bold = i'm unable to tag u)

reblog and interact for a kiss ;)

everything’s been hazy.

you don’t really remember how you got home– you either waved down a cab or walked until you somehow found your house. either way, the alcohol is worsening the pounding in your ears. the straps of your dress are clinging terribly against your skin–you want to take it off, you want to wear something more comfortable, you want to just go to sleep, preferably forever… but you can’t bring yourself to.

you can’t even bring yourself to move.

so the rumors really were true? but why did gojo pursue so far just for you? why did gojo say those words to you when you spent the night together? why did gojo try so hard to convince you that night that he wanted to have sex with you because he loved you–and not solely because he wanted to have sex?

why did gojo lie to you?

another series of pings sound throughout the room, and you finally move to silence your phone. the noise is all so overwhelming. why the hell is your phone blowing up?

you check your notifications–mostly dms from people you don’t know, either asking if you and satoru were dating, or questioning you about what the hell happened at the party. you know that you’re gonna be the subject of gossip once you’re back at campus, and you hate it.

you were surprised at the numbers once you scrolled down your notification list a little further. ten missed calls from satoru, accompanied by a series of fifteen panicked messages. you open it, and you stare sadly at his contact photo and name, remembering the fond memory behind it. once you two actually started dating, you were merciful enough to add a heart next to his name, and even updated it to “toru”. he was elated at that.

you think you can barely even call him gojo now.

the most recent message was barely sent a minute ago. like it was on cue, you see the bright headlights pull up outside of your door. you wanted to sink into your couch and never resurface ever again.

you hear suguru’s car door open and close, and then frantic knocking outside. you walk to the door while sniffling, looking through the peephole just to confirm your suspicions. it was satoru.

“i can hear you crying through the door, y/n. i know you’re there.” he takes a deep inhale, and the tears start rolling down your cheeks again once you hear the complete and utter vulnerability in his voice. you just don’t know what to believe anymore. “shit, i’m crying too. well, i’m gonna explain myself even if you don’t care enough to listen to me. uhm, believe it or not, what happened at the party wasn’t my doing… at all. when you went to use the bathroom, this girl went up to me and started flirting with me, like she was waiting for you to leave or somethin’. i was g’na tell her to go fuck off but she pushed herself on my lap and before i could do anything about it you walked in and it was just all horrible timing and- god. i know it sounds unbelievable, right? you must think i’m terrible right now.”

“you don’t have to believe me. if i were in your shoes i wouldn’t know what to think either. i’m just… explaining what happened.”

there’s a long period of silence between you and satoru, aside from the occasional sniffling on both ends. you don’t know what to say. you want to believe him. you want to do nothing more than to open the door and let him hold you in his arms again, but you just don’t know what to think anymore. you poured your entire heart out to a man who you knew you shouldn’t be messing with, and now you don’t know who or what to believe. you feel like a fool, and you’re just tired. so damn tired. the silence feels asphyxiating, like it's tearing your relationship with satoru further and further apart the longer it draws on.

satoru is the first one to break the silence. “i’m guessing from the silent treatment that you don’t believe me. it’s okay, y/n. i’ll wait an eternity for you to forgive me because i’ll always choose you- fuck… over anything, and i hope you know that.”

your mind is a mess, and satoru’s words make it even messier.

i’ll wait an eternity for you

i’ll always choose you over anything

you put your head in your hands and sob. it hurts.

a minute passes–gojo hears you get up from where you’re sitting behind the door, and his heart fills with hope.

“i just… i just don’t know how to believe you, gojo.”

his heart breaks when he hears the door–presumably to your bedroom–open and close, leaving him alone with his shattered heart. his heart breaks when he takes in your voice, noticing how weak and exhausted you sounded. he wonders how much you’ve cried just from this past hour alone. his heart breaks once he realizes that he’s alone with his thoughts again, alone with the voice in his head that was berating him for not being able to prevent all of this if he hadn’t frozen up and just pushed her away the second that girl started flirting with him. finally, his heart breaks once it registers that you called him gojo–the last name that he shares with his corrupt and money-crazy family… the family he tries so hard to get away from. it was also the name you called him during the days that you barely trusted him.

now, he’s back to square one, and he has none of your trust again. this time, satoru swears that he’ll do anything in his power to get it back once more.

you didn’t come to school today.

there’s been nothing but radio silence on your end. gojo has sent you countless messages over the weekend asking how you’ve been, with the occasional desperate voicemail where he tells you that he loves and misses you. you’ve turned off your read receipts, so gojo doesn’t even know if you’ve seen his texts or listened to his voicemails. he’s concerned for you, even though he knows that he’s the reason behind all of this. he was hoping to talk things out with you today.. but you weren’t even here.

one thing gojo knew about you is that you cared deeply about your academics, and you wouldn’t miss attendance even if you were sick. it pains him to know that he was the reason that you weren’t here today. you were avoiding him, and he felt helpless.

he’s talked to geto—and the best advice that his best friend could offer was to “find proof that you didn’t cheat on her.” he’s right, though. the last thing you had said to gojo was that you don’t know how to believe if he’s telling the truth or not. gojo has absolutely no idea how to prove his fidelity to you, since words clearly weren’t enough. it frustrates him to no end.

gojo now knows that he feels absolutely lost. all when he’s not with you.

it feels nerve-wracking to walk the halls. 

he remembers telling you the night that you slept together that he’d learned over time to drown out the rumors about him. he learned not to care about what other people thought about him, and he eventually became unaffected by the school’s gossip. 

however, this time was different.

this time, he finds it difficult to drown out the rumors when he hears your name in them. he flinches every time someone whispers your name and his as he walks the halls, feeling that all eyes are on him. “i heard y/n and gojo broke up…” “they were dating?!” “yeah.. i didn’t believe it at first, either! apparently he…”

he doesn’t want to hear it, so he walks a little faster. it hasn’t felt this suffocating to be on campus in a while.

maybe that’s partially why you didn’t show up. rumors are hard to ignore if you don’t know how to shun them out. 

gojo lets out a sigh. he decides that he’s going to ditch the rest of class. you weren’t here, he couldn’t talk to you, and he felt he was gonna go mad if he heard your name spoken by someone again, so he turns to leave, but flinches as he feels a hand lightly tap his shoulder.

“gojo-san?”

he turns around, with a girl that he’s never seen before standing in front of him… not that he pays attention to them in the first place, though. he raises his eyebrow in question, and the girl looks so nervous she might pass out. “i have to tell you something-“

“if it’s a love confession or whatever, i don’t want to hear it-“

“-no!” she flushes a deep shade of red, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes. she coughs awkwardly at his expression. “um, no.. it’s not that. please, just give me two minutes in the library. i have something to tell you.”

he decides to entertain this girl for a bit. he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t curious about what she had to talk to him for. gojo sighs and says, “two minutes. that’s all you’re getting.”

“this is about the party last friday, no?” he says while taking a seat near one of the tables. he feels sick just being here. he’d never gone to the library before meeting you–as he had no reason to go here at all. then, he started accompanying you everywhere as he tried to win your heart. “study dates” were frequent here, and he even remembers forcefully changing his contact name and number on your phone during one of your dates.

gosh, everything literally reminds him of you. he can barely live like this.

she takes a seat across from him, and she shamefully nods at his words. “i went to the party on friday, and i just want to say i’m sorry-”

gojo gets up to leave. he can’t do this. he doesn’t need anyone’s pity. pity can’t change the fact that you still won’t talk to him. she panics as gojo is about to walk away. “wait!”

the librarian tells her to quiet down, and she mutters an apology. still, she persists. “please, just wait for two minutes… i need two minutes to explain myself. you promised you’d give me that.”

she stares at gojo, who hasn’t left yet, and takes that as her opportunity to speak. “i was a friend of… her,” he doesn’t need an explanation to know who she was talking about. “the reason why she came up to you was because of a dare i told her to do. she’s had a crush on you for a while now, so of course she was willing to flirt with you.”

“um, that was the dare, by the way. my friend told me to record it, because we were all drunk, and we thought it would be funny. just another memory to laugh at in the future, right? we didn’t know you were dating the girl you were with at the party. sorry but, we assumed she was just a fling… or something… we didn’t know she was your girlfriend.”

“yeah, i was dating the girl at the party.” gojo scoffs, and he feels his anger bubbling up again. “then your friend had to do that stupid dare, and she won’t fuckin’ talk to me now.”

“i’m sorry-”

“i don’t need your apologies. is that why you came up to me? to apologize so you don’t feel guilty about what happened anymore?” gojo sneers. he was right, though. guilt is ridden all over her face, and she can’t even meet his eyes. he’s about to leave, thinking that this entire conversation was useless, but gojo thinks back on what she said earlier.

“...my friend told me to record it…”

he turns back to look at her, which surprises her, to say the least. “hey, you said you recorded the dare, right?”

“uhm, yes.”

“so you still have the video?”

“it should be in my camera roll somewhere-”

“if you came here to apologize to me, then you should send me that video.” she looked a little horrified at his words, and gojo could almost laugh. “what? i’m not gonna do anything bad with it, god.”

she thinks about what gojo’s intentions could be with that video, and her eyes light up in recognition as she connects the dots from what he said beforehand. i was dating the girl at the party… then your friend had to do that stupid dare… and she won’t fuckin’ talk to me now.

she nods in understanding. this is the least she could do for him. she pulls out her phone, looking for the video, and says, “i hope you two make up soon, gojo-san.”

gojo satoru walks- no, runs out of that library with determination. determination as he finally has the video evidence of what happened at the party–his saving grace so he could finally get you to forgive him.

you miss him.

you miss him like hell, actually, and you blink at the messages he just sent you in complete disbelief.

you didn’t show up to class today because you were afraid. you were afraid to see satoru again, yes, but you were also afraid of what everyone else would say about you. the party was one thing, but the after-effects and the rumors were something completely different. you didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that, unlike satoru, so you stayed home. all because you were afraid of what would happen on campus.

you just wish things would go back to how they were before… all of this happened. you didn’t want to admit it, but you’ve read all of satoru’s messages, and you’ve listened to all of his voicemails. you’ve cried to them. and it hurts because you’re still torn apart in the midst of your own feelings. and now, satoru wants to talk to you, because he’s been wanting to do nothing but fix everything between the two of you.

the doorbell rings, and you almost jump out of your skin. 

you didn’t even know if you would open the door or not. despite that, you felt your body moving on its own, like you were relying on your own instincts. you washed your face to get rid of the dried tears on your cheeks, brushed the tangles out of your hair, and dressed into something more presentable. the next thing you know, you’re leaning against the wall next to the front entrance. your shadow is visible underneath the door, so satoru knows that you’re here.

“hi, y/n..” he sounded so nervous that you almost laughed, but you felt equally as terrified as him. “i have something to show you… uh, on my phone. if you don’t want to see me, it’s fine, i’ll just send it to you, but i’d really prefer if you open the door and we’ll talk about this inside-”

your hand is already reaching the door knob before you can even think about it. it’s such an impulse decision that you look at him in surprise once you open the door. it’s the first time you’ve seen him ever since you were at the party. it’s only been three days, but you can’t help but notice how his eyebags are more prominent, his eyes are a little redder, and he looks nothing short of exhausted.

“hey,” he manages to breathe out, his eyes meeting yours. “can i come in? please?”

you nod, too stunned to say anything, and he exhales in relief as he walks in. the two of you sit on the couch, and gojo notices how you’re keeping your distance from him. it breaks his heart a little.

he looks for the video on his phone and gets ready to show it to you. this is it. his last ditch effort for your forgiveness. he’s really fuckin’ hoping that this works. “i got this video from a girl who came to the party. it’s a recording of, um, what happened.”

he hands the phone over to you, and you take it skeptically, still choosing to keep silent. you press play, and you watch the recording. a shaky hand holds the camera, and the person behind it says, “holy shit, she’s actually doing it!” they're presumably talking to their friend, and the camera focuses on a girl walking over to gojo. your heart is pounding, eyes widening in recognition as you stare at her... the one who caused all of this in the first place.

the all too familiar girl comes up to him, saying something out of earshot. when gojo looks at her, completely uninterested, she pulls that move. the scene you saw at the party before you ran out. tears fill your eyes again, and you almost want to stop the video, but your interest is piqued at the next part.

..this… this part was something that you didn’t see. gojo angrily reacts at the girl’s move, with her falling on the floor as she looks at him, stunned at how furious he looks. the person behind the camera gasps, continuing to record out of shock as a crowd of people turn to stare at the two. geto eventually comes into the frame and takes gojo away from all the chaos. the video ends there, and you grip gojo’s phone shakily.

holy shit.

tears roll down your face, but this time, they’re tears of relief. you waste no time in hugging satoru, crying your heart out as you bury your face in his neck. you’re happy. you’re so fucking happy, and so relieved knowing that he didn’t lie to you. of course he didn’t.

“m’sorry-” you sniffle into his shoulder. gojo is so shocked at what was happening that it takes him a second to hug you back, but when he does, he starts crying. “m’so fucking sorry i didn’t believe you-”

“shh, it’s okay, it’s okay…” he says, and you only hug him tighter. “m’so tired, you know that? these past three days fucking sucked. i’m just so glad you’re in my arms again, fuck-”

“-i love you, i love you, i love you so fucking much, toru.” you repeat, laughing as you kiss him all over his face. it’s been a while since you said that to someone. you wipe his never-ending tears away, still in disbelief, and whisper, “you’re real. right? you’re actually here with me right now ‘nd i’m not dreaming, right?

“i’m very much real, baby.” he says, putting his forehead against yours as you take in his features again. “god, i missed that pretty face so much.”

he finally closes the gap between you two, pulling you into a much needed kiss. it’s a kiss filled with so many emotions–desperation, happiness, relief. satoru thinks his heart is finally whole again. he’s missed you. he’s missed you so fucking much, and you’ve missed him too. 

you’re like an anchor to satoru. the light of his life that keeps him grounded. and god, he’s been apart from you for too long. 

you reposition yourself as you’re deepening the kiss. you’re on his lap now, and you wrap your arms around his neck, tugging on his hair in desperation. “oh yeah? ‘y gonna do anything about it?"

“of course i am,” he says, hands roaming underneath your shirt as he caresses your bare waist. fuck. he needs you. right now. especially after thinking that he was about to lose you forever–for something that he didn’t even do. “i’m gonna show you just how much i missed you, baby.”

gojo can’t let you go.

you’re in your bedroom, and both of you waste no time undressing each other. he takes you in–all of you, in awe of every crevice of your body as he trails his hands further down your waist.

god, you’re so beautiful. “i can’t believe i almost lost you.”

his words are shaky, like he’s still uncertain that you’re real and you’re in his arms again. he can’t seem to break himself away from you, almost like you’ll disappear if he lets you go. “but i’m here now, toru.”

“i’m here to stay, and i’ll never let you go again… ‘m yours,” you whisper, and your words set a fire in him, fueling his body with nothing but desperation. desperation to have you right here, and right now. 

he wastes no time in plunging two of his fingers in your cunt, and he groans at just how wet you are. “satoru-”

“fuck, you’re so wet… and it’s all for me,” he mutters, spreading your legs effortlessly when you try to close them, thighs shaking in pure pleasure. he adds another finger, and you already feel stretched to the brim, and you haven’t even taken him in yet. the thought of his cock inside of you makes you even wetter than you already are, and you look up at satoru with eyes full of lust and desire. “missed you so much, baby. missed you and your pretty little cunny,”

his fingers are long, and you whine at how full you feel right now. you’re so loud, and you don’t even care. right now, it’s just you and satoru finally feeling each other again. it’s only been three days, but it feels like you’ve been apart for years.

everything about this was filthy. from your erotic moans and the way your cunt squelched against his fingers… not to mention the vice grip you had on them- fuck, satoru thinks he can cum untouched just from watching you like this.

“haa-” you whimper when his fingers curl and hit that spot in your cunt that you can barely seem to reach on your own. it’s exhilarating, and only fuels the growing heat in your stomach. “toru- don’t stop- please, i’m close-”

“really?” he taunts, and it feels so fucking good–your head is numb, and the only thoughts filling your head are thoughts of satoru. the pleasure is too much, and you try to get away from him, but he keeps you in place, curling his fingers faster as punishment. “don’t run away from me, baby… be a good girl and just take it, yeah?”

“toru- fuck- i’m gonna cum, please-” you’re on the brink of release, but suddenly, he stops, ruining your orgasm. “no- wait-”

he pulls his fingers out, and you whine at the loss of stimulation. you were so close–why did he take that away from you? you try and swat at his hands, but he just takes his fingers and puts them in his mouth, locking his eyes with yours with a sly smile. “you taste so sweet, i can’t help it,”

“aww, is my baby mad ‘cause she didn’t get to cum?” he coos sarcastically, caging you in between his arms as he tilts your face up with his finger. “too bad… the only thing you’re cumming on tonight is on my cock.”

and with that, he eases his painfully hard member into your walls. your insides hugged him perfectly–it was like you were made just for him. you gasp once he’s fully sheathed himself inside of you. his fingers were already a lot to take in, but his cock was something completely different. he moans your name, barely keeping his cool. “fuck- you’re squeezing me so tight,”

“missed everything about you, baby. i need to hold you, please,” he pleads desperately, clasping your small hands against his. the size difference alone between the two of you almost makes him cum, but he holds himself back, choosing to bask in this intimate moment. he’s missed every part about this. “you ready f’me?-”

“-just fuck me, satoru, please-” he doesn’t need another confirmation from you.

he can’t bring himself to hold back. next thing you know, he’s fucking you into the mattress, and you feel the headboard shake at how fast satoru is going. fuck–you feel every part of him, every part of his cock as it slams against your tight hole. he’s so big, you feel yourself gasping for breath, and you moan out loud as you notice the prominent bulge forming in your stomach. it’s him, it’s all him, and it’s driving you mad.

satoru follows your eyes in the midst of all of this, and he watches everything in fascination. he decides to be a little mean, and presses his free hand against your stomach–it feels so good, you could almost scream at the pleasure. “you feel that, baby? that’s all me inside of you, hmm?”

“please-” the onset of pleasure feels so overwhelming, and tears fill your eyes. you feel an oncoming orgasm coming, and you know your release will hit you like a tidal wave. your heart is pounding, but satoru only grips your hand tighter and fucks you even harder. “oh, fuck!”

“m close, baby. are you g’na cum too?” he manages to say between pants, and you somehow nod, mind hazy and your release only coming closer. you feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “cum inside of me, toru- please- i need to feel you-”

gojo groans at your words, and you both cum together. you ride out your high, screaming as you spasm around his cock, the pleasure overfilling your senses until you’re trembling from it. he fills you up, staying inside of you as the two of you catch your breath. everything’s hazy, and you’re barely aware of your surroundings… it takes you a few minutes to recover. 

“angel, are you with me?”

“yeah, fuck, just… give me a second.” you say, and gojo thinks that he would gladly give you all the time in the world if you needed it. he pulls out of you with a hiss, and his warm seed drips out of your cunny. it makes his cock twitch, but he knows that you’re probably not considering a round two right now.

when you come to your senses, you notice satoru–who put his clothes back on already, wiping your legs down with a rag. his touch is so soft, like he’s afraid to break you, unlike how he handled you just a moment ago. you look down and notice the bruises starting to form on your legs and waist. satoru looks guilty as he stares. “i didn’t go too rough with you, did i?”

“not at all,” you reassure him, and you see him soften up a little. “it felt really good, actually… thank you, toru.”

“s nothing. you know my girl only gets the best,” he teases, and you laugh. “i’m gonna go get you some new clothes and some water… i’ll be back, okay?”

you nod, closing your eyes again as satoru leaves the room. he’s back in two minutes, and he’s gently changing you into new clothes that he found in your drawer. you’re so tired that you can hardly move, so you let satoru do all the work. he caresses all of your bruises, apologizing again even if you already said that it was okay. he’s so gentle, a swift juxtaposition to what just happened beforehand, and so soft with you. once you’re clothed again, he brings a glass of water against your lips, and you greedily gulp it down as he keeps a hand on your back. he places it on the nightstand once you’re finished, and you grab his wrist after, tugging him back to the bed. “lay with me for a bit, toru.”

satoru doesn’t hesitate, laying down next to you on the bed and placing your head against his chest. your breathing is back to normal, and you feel his heart thumping against your ear. you wrap your arms around him, and satoru thinks that this moment is so domestic that he can’t help but daydream. he looks at your face, memorizing every feature about you with a lovesick look in his eyes. you’re so beautiful, so perfect, and he’s just so fucking glad that he didn’t lose you. 

satoru thinks he could wake up to this everyday.

“you’re starin.” you say with an amused look on your face. gojo doesn’t even try to play it off. “what’s on your mind?”

“nothing. i just… love you so much, y/n.” he says, pulling you closer and kissing your forehead. satoru would trade anything if it meant that this moment wouldn’t end. “m so glad you chose me.”

“i think it’s the other way around,” you tease. “you chose me. ever since you saw me at the party, you’ve done nothing but try to win my heart.”

“how could i not? there was just something different about you compared to everyone else.” he reminisces about that night at the party, and how far he’s come with his relationship with you. he remembers that night like it just happened yesterday.

you sigh, almost like you were thinking about that night too. you pull him into a kiss, finally finding the courage within you to say a proper “i love you.” to the man who meant the world to you.

“i love you too, angel.” he says, and you snuggle into him tighter. “you know i’ll always choose you…”

“..from this life and into the next. i’m so glad you gave me a chance, y/n. i’ll forever be grateful to now be called your husband. i’m the luckiest man ever knowing that you let me into your life, and i’m the one who gets to read these vows to marry you. i cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you. i love you so much, y/n gojo.” he’s crying. gojo satoru is crying, and he’s hardly ever cried before. though, that changed after he met you.

the last time he cried was during pre-k, and now he’s done it time and time again… all because of you. he cried once during your first argument with him, another during the night he thought he’d lost you forever, and then another when he finally had you in his arms again once he proved his innocence… and now, during his wedding, when he finally gets to call you his wife.

and when you share your kiss at the end of the ceremony to symbolize your togetherness, you hear all your friends cheering. mainly shoko, utahime, and geto. if you showed this very scene to shoko during your university years, she’d call you crazy, saying this would never happen. gojo satoru was once a man who’d never willingly committed in a relationship before, but you came into his life and you changed everything about him. it was like magic.

you pull away from the kiss, wiping his tears away and whispering against his lips, drowning out the crowd, “thank you.”

for memorizing all my favorite foods so you could buy them for me. for walking me to class every day. for making me fall in love with you that one day at the park. for waiting for me to slowly love you even when i was scared to love. for waiting for me even if i didn’t trust you. for loving me. for proving those rumors wrong. for proving that satoru gojo is actually capable of falling in love and pouring his heart out to the one he loves the most.

for everything that you have done to love me.

it was like gojo could hear all of your unspoken words. he smiles, letting one more tear roll down his cheek, and says, “it’s all worth it if it’s for you.”

thanks for reading <3 -kami.

[saintmuses]

❝𝙙𝙞𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙❞

Pairing:

Soft!dark!Thomas Shelby x Ada’s BSF!Reader

Summary:

What started out as a fantastic night out at Eden club in London ended tragically for her.

Warning(s): Angst. Slightly dub-con (unwanted kiss). Death. Violence. Minors, dni! Note: last part of the mini series.

Word Count: 661

She could remember it in some ways where the memories began to solidify in flashes, a montage of the massacre of one man that happened at Eden Club.

She remembered being happy while drinking gin in a fancy glass, laughing at what her husband had jest.

She was happy, with a thin gold band wrapped around her ring finger, shiny under the golden hues of the lights at the club.

They had eloped so quickly in the morning, quickly that they couldn’t stand still and take it all in that they were getting married on a piece of paper. Perhaps they should’ve stayed and taken it all in slowly if she had known this was going to be their last night together.

The music ending sounded like the death march when a mass of storm came barreling, destroying everything they had touched.

“Tommy, no!” She screamed, voices erupted around them in a frenzy, but refused to intervene.

He was cruel. Just like everything about him. His eyes, pale blue, were encrusted in ice. Crystallizing the already frozen water, but his aura felt like death. It reeked of grim reaper, desperate to ensnare a living breathing soul.

It was crystal clear when blood was being spilled across the fancy tiles on the floor, splattered all over her and all over the man whose face was covered in hues of furiousness.

If she had thought or been asked what he would’ve done to declare her husband’s death, she would’ve thought or said he would’ve used a bullet in the gun he favored in his holster.

Not his bare hands, never his bare hands.

Perhaps he felt a bullet going through the brain or the heart was too simple, too kind, an act of mercy that she knew Thomas rarely gave out unless he had a bleeding heart in that moment which was very few and very far between.

It ended with his hand gripping the cap in a death-like vice, swinging across her husband’s face and neck, severely splitting his flesh and everything underneath into a snarly mess.

Her heart stopped at the sight of death in his eyes when he finally turned his head to face her. 

Nothing gold can stay under the golden hues of light of the club she had thought was her temporary Garden of Eden, but the serpent had entered and destroyed it with death with venom of blades that could be found sewn on his cap and poison from his fists.

“That must have been a new record, a bride and a widow in one day.” He muttered bitterly, coldly. It may have been said at a normal low tone, but to her he might as well have shouted them at her because those words hurt.

“Fuck you, Thomas!” She cried out, tears dripping down her flushed cheeks. She felt sick.

She could not stand the sight of him anymore, and she turned away from him, intending to run away again.

She was jerked back by him by a vice-like grip on her arm, and she was spun around to face him.

Her lips curled into a grimace when she felt slick fingers gripping her jaw, she could feel her husband’s blood smearing into her skin.

“I warned you,” he murmured, then she flinched at the next words. “I fuckin’ warned you, didn’t I? Eh?” He shouted in her face, eyes blazing with fury. His fingers digging into her bicep, for sure there were going to be finger shaped bruises in the morning.

“You will learn, Y/N. No one fucking touches you, or speak to you, or even marry you and live.” He hissed, nearly frothing at his mouth before closing in.

Unlike before where it was a purposeful act of brushing while she was unwilling, he forced his lips onto her still unwilling ones.

She swore she could taste blood, Edward’s blood on his lips, and her heart stopped for the second time that hour.

act i | ❝𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙝 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣❞

act ii | ❝𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙮𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙮 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙣❞

act iii | ❝𝙙𝙞𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙❞

[creepling]

FICS FOR GAZA !

hello peeps! i am taking part in wip sponsorships for @ficsforgaza to help out with donations for the many fundraisers they have linked.

to meet with the terms, i am only offering sponsorships of works about video game characters. this includes my usual tcm game wips, alongside one i have of boomer from ssktjl.

here is an outline of steps to participate; send a screenshot that is proof of donation alongside the wip you are sponsoring into my inbox. $1 donated to a fundraiser = 100 words written for the sponsored wip. the word counts i provide are just rough estimations and i am willing to go over if the donations go higher! once a work is completed, i will give special thanks to donators for their contribution to the fic and the aid for gaza!

my limit is $20 for 2k, but feel free to donate as much as you can seperately from my wips!

click here for a further explanation from ficsforgaza if you are still unsure. their blog also has tabs on FAQ, fundraisers and all the info you need.

reminder: do not donate to ME. only send me proof of donation.

MY WIPS

BAD TINDER DATE WITH BOOMER (title still to be decided)

ssktjl!captain boomerang x fem!reader. bad first impressions. enemies to lovers. eventual smut? mini-fic series.

you have a reputation for liking the bad boys. your friends have warned you'll get your heart broken and it's time to move on to better things. after a horrible date with the aussie boomerang-slinger, you decide to finally take their advice. but it's not that easy moving on. there is something about him you can't get enough of...

progress: 676/6000 words

TO DEVOUR IS TO LOVE: CHAPTER 2

tcm game original character. multiple ships. dead dove - do not eat. general tags on this post.

in the second chapter, winona slaughter is navigating through the city life. fate aligns with her hunger and she crosses paths with maria flores and her group of friends. all is well as they take the abnormal, but intriging rural girl under their wing. but winona is struggling to cope with the buffet that she surrounds herself in. let's see how long she can last before things get messy...

progress: 4312/5500 words

THE BABYSITTER (title still to be decided)

johnny slaughter x fem!reader. babysitter trope. stalking. violence and gore. non-con. minor character death. dark smut. dead dove - do not eat.

reader finishes up her babysitting shift and expects the usual routine of her boyfriend picking her up. she doesn't know that someone is watching her, and is waiting for the right time to prance. when johnny finally digs his nails into reader, he knows a sadistic way to get her to succumb to him and have some derranged fun.

progress: 0/1500-2000 words

FOXY (title still to be decided)

johnny slaughter x fox-hybrid!reader. smut. petplay. dom/sub. minor injury. primal. humiliation. tags still to be decided.

fox-hybrid!reader gets caught up in one of hitchhikers traps when trying to snag nugget from the family property. unlucky for them, johnny's been working outside and spots the commotion. finding the hurt, scared reader, johnny takes them in with a devilish smirk. now he's got a little pet he can play with, and he ain't gonna play nice.

progress: 0/1000 words.

IN THE BLUEBONNET FIELD (title still to be decided)

johnny slaughter x fem!reader. smut. stalking. yandere. primal. non-con. knifeplay. bloodplay. dead dove - do not eat.

johnny has been stalking the reader for weeks, relishing in their scared state. as the days go by, the reader feels like she is being watched, catching glimpses of an unknown man following her every move. with morbid curiousity, the reader decides to treck through the bluebonnet fields to finally come face to face with her stalker. when he takes her advances, he finally has her at his mercy.

progress: 0/3000 words.

dividers by @thecutestgrotto.

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE.

[redtsundere-writes]

Would you consider continuing sukunaxservant? I’m in love with that au 💗💗💗

🥺👉👈 I beg

Hiya! Since you guys and Wattpad ate up my King!Sukuna x Servant!Reader one-shots, I decided to turn it into a series on Wattpad and AO3!

The first 4 one-shots (Ear Cleaning, Ribs, Blood Bath and Eyes on Me) will be included, but they'll be longer and better. So if you like any of those caught your attention, please check out the full version :) Thank you for the support!

Tyrant's Favorite | Sukuna Ryomen

PICK YOUR FAVORITE!

AO3 or Wattpad?

CHAPTER 1 PREVIEW! ↆ

Sukuna walked through the corridors illuminated by the dark sun that ruled among the kingdoms. His long, heavy footsteps made the marble floor rumble under his weight. His sharp profile, tattooed shoulders and large body, contrasted by the reddish sky of the cursed land, terrifying any small human who encountered him. He was a king who could control anything thanks to the terror that his large body and absolute power conveyed. He had the power on his hands to kill whatever and whenever he wanted like an omnipotent god, but he liked to watch his rats run from one side to the other to obey his mercy. It amused him to play with his servants to the point of making them cry, tremble or, in extreme cases, commit suicide. He had plenty of servants, so he could afford to kill as many as he wanted. The poor uniformed humans trembled if his dark eyes rested on them. They all tried to dodge him at all costs to avoid performing tasks that involved being near him, especially cleaning his ears. 

Being a monster with senses sharpened to the max, he hated having his ears touched, but it was necessary for him to clean them to have his five senses ready for any battle. He is not someone ticklish, but his ears are the most sensitive part of his entire body. He could clean his own ears himself, but what kind of almighty, omnipotent king would clean his own ears when others could do it?

His eyes navigated through the long and endless corridors of the terrifying castle where he lived with all his subjects. The king's home was a place where darkness, cold, and uncertainty dominated the atmosphere. Even though it was surrounded by luxuries, it felt more like a secret attic than a castle fit for a king. Silver chandeliers, red candles parading on the walls and furniture upholstered with exotic fabrics from around the world decorated each room that was commonly surrounded by portraits made by hundreds of artists who feared for their lives. 

His predatory eyes sought out the first poor servant that crossed his path. He heard the bristles of a broom being scrubbed against the floor. Sukuna spotted a small figure sweeping one of the guest rooms. There you were, humming a song softly from your childhood as you made the broom dance from side to side. You were so focused on your task that you didn't notice the king standing dangerously close to you. As you turned around, you suddenly bumped into his imposing body, giving you a mini heart attack. Dressed in elegant robes, gold rings on each finger and with a wicked grin on his face, he was looking at you as if you were a despicable creature he could get rid of in the blink of an eye. 

You are the youngest and most inexperienced servant in the entire castle. You had not been living there for more than two months, so your direct interactions with the king had been few. Sukuna saw you from head to toe. He remembered you perfectly from the day he met you. Your neatly combed pigtails with two white bows showed off your innocence, the corset accentuated your small waist and the long brown skirt covered your promising legs. He accepted it, you were cute. Other than that, you were a disgusting human like everyone else, but there was something about you that caught his attention. Sukuna didn't know exactly what it was that you had. For the time being, he would continue to treat you as you deserved for being a nasty rat. Immediately, you knelt before your majesty. Your head rested in your hands against the freshly swept floor, your fingers barely touching his feet because of the closeness. 

“Are you having fun?” Sukuna asked, sarcastic. 

“No, my king,” you answered quickly, avoiding making eye contact. 

Sukuna placed one of his bare feet on your back. The oppressive weight crushed you against the cold floor. You prayed inwardly that your bones wouldn't start to creak. You bit your lower lip and closed your eyes tightly to avoid letting out a moan of pain. Having satisfied his need to make the new maid see who her master is, he removed his foot from your agonized back. You took a deep breath to fill your lungs with air again. 

“To my room. Now,” he ordered without deigning to look at you before leaving the room. You remained on the floor, slowly catching your breath. A metal taste touched your tongue. You bit your lower lip so hard what it was bleeding.

FULL CHAPTER ON WATTPAD / AO3!

[thefallennightmare]

That December Night- Matt Dierkes x Reader: Mini Series

A/N: Ok so, this whole idea started when @artificialbreezy and I saw one post on Tumblr earlier and could not stop talking about it. This will be a mini-series with three chapters. I will only be working on this for the time being because the Matt brain rot is real(sorry JP readers, don't fret though. The next chapter is coming). Let me know if you don't see your name in the tags and would like to be tagged!

SNEAK PEEK BELOW THE CUT!

"I've never been one to half-ass anything, Y/N!" Matt bit out with a clenched jaw. His hands were perched low on his hip as my sudden news turned his world upside down.

My hands rested on my stomach as I took a deep breath, preparing myself for what he said next. The large group of people a few feet behind him pretended to keep themselves busy with work but I knew they'd been eavesdropping since I showed up a few minutes ago.

Matt let out a deep breath to calm himself. "If we're going to do this then we're doing it together. We can't do it together if you're halfway across the world from me."

I scoffed, not quite ready to jump into the idea of packing up my life for the next month to live on the road with a man I had only met one night back in December.

Five months ago.

"And if I say no?" I scoffed.

Those dark eyes sliced into me from underneath his hat and he took a step closer towards me. "You're carrying my child, Y/N. There's no way I'm letting you leave now. Not again. Not like I did that night."

tags: @loeytuan98 @thatchickwiththecamera @dsireland86 @iknownothingpeople @bngurngheart @malice-ov-mercy @cookiesupplier @heyyoplayer @myownthoughts12 @vinyardmaurao @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @lma1986 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @itsafullmoon @shilohrosechicken @klutzy-kay24 @shadowseve @blueskylinesx @exitwoundsx @thisbicc @pathion @cookiesupplier @sammyjoeee @whenthesummerdies @flowery-mess @xxkittenkissesxx @its-inourblood @madomens @collidewiththesavannah @xserena-13 @cncohshit @rain-down-on-me @sorrowsofsilence

[raayllum]

So I’ve been mulling over the fact that next season is Ocean, and will feature Kim’Dael, as well as how the show likes to continually intertwine Callum and Rayla’s arcs and have them mirror each other as foils even more than they do with every passing season, which is to say:

S5 is set up for them to both be wrestling with feeling Helpless in ways they largely haven’t since the show began. Rayla has always been concerned with choking at the finish line, S2 and S3 largely removed her hesitation, but she’s been desperate, driven, and directionless for a long time. Callum has felt similarly, chasing magic as a means of agency, control, and belonging, and now having his best qualities - his curiosity, his observant nature - likewise turned against him as the show gears up for its new arc, much like Rayla’s selflessness becoming almost wholly self-destructive. 

It makes me wonder if Kim’Dael, who Rayla could also not defeat, is going to mirror Aaravos in being Rayla’s form of her personal demon, in a lot of ways. She couldn’t save people back then and she’s convinced she can’t save everyone now, while Callum is asking to fall on her sword, for her to sacrifice his life to spare his friends and family. But Rayla refuses to sacrifice him, of course - just as Callum will refuse to sacrifice her, like always.

It does make me wonder if beyond even asking Callum for help, if Rayla will flat out entrust the coins of her parents to Callum (if she doesn’t think it would be dangerous) because she doesn’t trust herself to be able to save them and carry out the mission. Not when she’s failed horribly in every other mission she’s ever willfully taken on other than protecting Zym, and spent the past two years failing. Or if she’ll put up walls and try to handle it alone, trying to figure out what to do because she doesn’t want to hurt him again, and leaving Callum helpless in helping her.

It also makes me think they’ll ultimately restore agency to each other - Callum helping her save her family or helping save her (or both), Rayla helping save him from Aaravos (light in his darkness). For other reasons as well, of course, but this is another facet that makes me add a reason to the list, either way.

[yoongimedia]

𝕹𝖔 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖉

Summary: „Even the devil was once an angel.“ The highest degree of evil is known as the devil, and he was the most beautiful angel in all of heaven before he fell.

Warnings: toxic relationship, smut, drugs (alcohol is a drug), mind games, stalking, suggestive themes, smut, gun violence, dark!yoongi, strong language, blood and gore, murder, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behavior, abuse, cheating, angst, fluff, dubcon, 18+, minors dni

Status: COMING SOON!

Authors Note: I’ll start with the posting in mid August probably, cause this weeks are finals and next week I’ll be in Türkiye for vocation! (last updated the A/N 07/21/2024)

Mini Series Chaperts:

- Save your tears

- She knows

- Treat you better

- Mercy

©yoongimedia. Please do not repost.

Taglist:

@wobblewobble822 @ilys00ga @stolasisyourparent @florabloomgirly @parapiop7

[otomehonyaku]

DIABOLIK LOVERS More,Blood Genteiban DVD Translation ☽ Mini Drama II (Yuma, Shuu, Reiji)

Original title: DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE,BLOOD 限定版 SPECIAL DISK III Mini Drama II Voiced by Suzuki Tatsuhisa (Yuma), Toriumi Kōsuke (Shuu), Konishi Katsuyuki (Reiji) English translation by @otomehonyaku Click here for the audio (thank you @uzi-boozii for providing the audio!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Please do not reuse or post my translations elsewhere or translate my work into other languages without my permission.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I'm on a roll with the drama CDs this week! Here's the next instalment of the More,Blood special disks. The final one in this series, featuring Ruki, Azusa, Kanato, and Ayato, is coming next week ✧ദ്ദി( ˶^ᗜ^˶ )

As always, have fun listening and reading along! (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[This scene takes place after Yuma takes Yui’s blood in front of Shuu at the academy. They are now in the school infirmary.]

00:00 Yuma: Tch. Your face’s white as a fuckin’ sheet. You don’t taste good when you’re already half empty. Hurry up ‘n save up some blood so I can suck it.

[Yuma chews on a sugar cube.]

Y: I won’t hand you over to those bastards. Not until I become Adam. Better rest up, Sow.

[Reiji walks in.]

Reiji: Oh? What are you doing here?

Y: None of your business, smart-ass. (1)

R: Heh. It seems that you have taken too much of her blood, rendering her useless. 

Y: If you already know, you’d better fuck off.

R: Did you say something?

Y: Nothin’ in particular. Sow won’t be getting any rest anytime soon, though. We need her blood. More and more of it.

R: Heh.

Y: What’s so funny?

R: That is absurd.

Y: Huh?

R: Greedily devouring her without thinking of the repercussions… Exactly what I expect from mongrels like you.

Y: The fuck d’ya say?

R: Heh. It does not take a lot to upset you. How very predictable.

Y: Fuck off!

02:04 R: Good grief… If you continue taking her blood so carelessly, she will die before long.

Y: What’s wrong ‘bout a vampire suckin’ human blood? Don’t act like we’re not doin’ the same thing y’all did!

R: I would appreciate it if you did not liken yourselves to us. I have merely been treating her with the appropriate courteousness. Verbally abusing me without having the slightest notion of who I am is simply absurd. Foolish, rather.

Y: Hah! Foolish, you say. Right back at ya.

R: How so?

Y: Haha. You don’t know anythin’ either, do you?

R: What do I not know about you?

Y: You think we’re carelessly feeding on her for no reason at all? That’s foolish. We’re taking her blood ‘cause… Ah.

[Yuma catches himself before he divulges the Mukami’s plans.]

R: What is it?

Y: Heh. It’s got nothin’ to do with you.

R: That is regrettable. But even if you would have let your tongue slip, it is not that difficult to guess...

[Yuma grabs Reiji by the collar.]

Y: Why’re you pickin’ a fight with me if you already know?

R: I only know because you were chattering away, oblivious of your surroundings. Well, if lowly scum such as you former humans would be scheming anything… it would have nothing to do with me.

Y: Ha! Then you’re fine with me doin’ as I please with her?

R: Indeed. Because whatever you half-bloods are planning, you could never outmatch us to begin with. Besides, she is nothing but prey to us.

Y: What about you, huh? You OK with me takin’ Sow away from ya?

04:19 R: That is a foolish question. Are you saying she is valuable to us at all?

Y: Well, I’m glad. We’ll do exactly as we please with her, then.

R: However, please remember that when you make a move on the Sakamaki family, we will eliminate you without mercy.

[Reiji leaves.]

Y: Tch. What an indecisive asshole.

[Yuma leaves as well. The scene shifts to Yuma walking down the hallway, where he accidentally stumbles upon Shuu again.]

05:18 Y: Ugh, first that smart-ass and now this NEET (2), too?

S: Wait.

Y: What?

S: Are you really a vampire?

Y: The fuck? You askin’ that out of pride ‘cause you’re a pureblood? Like I said to Four-Eyes, we’re half-blood vampires. Used to be human. That’s got nothin’ to do with you.

S: Since when?

Y: Huh?

S: When did you become vampires? Who turned you?

Y: How’s that matter to you? I don’t get it.

S: Answer me.

Y: Tch. Don’t order me around like you're superior. It’s pissin’ me off. Ah… Who knows? It’s been so long that I forgot.

S: Have you always had that name?

Y: You listenin’ to me? Why do I gotta tell you? I don’t get it.

S: You don’t remember?

Y: What’d you say? What do you know ‘bout my memories?

S: Hm.

Y: And now you’re staying quiet. Tch. It’s not like I got anything to hide, though. I don’t remember my childhood. The only thing I’ve got left from then are my burn scars. I don’t even remember my own name.

S: Burn scars?

Y: Huh? Oh, and there’s a birth mark on my shoulder. But I guess that doesn’t really matter.

S: Ah!

Y: What? Why’re you so surprised? It’s not like it still hurts or itches now, either.

S: Hm…

Y: You seem kinda out of it. You sure you’re alright with us takin’ Sow away from y’all?

S: I guess. What you do with that woman has nothing to do with me.

Y: How’re you and that Four-Eyes so calm about all this? Don’t come cryin’ to me ‘bout it later!

07:42 S: She’s nothing but prey to us. Someone else will come to take her place when she dies.

Y: You really think so? She’s the only...

S: Aren’t you a little too interested in her?

Y: Heh. We have our reasons.

S: I see.

Y: Ha. Famous last words? You selfish fucking aristocrat. Tch. You’re all insane…

[Yuma walks away.]

S: Burn marks… So it is him.

[The scene shifts to Reiji.]

R: They are completely obsessed with her blood… There is no mistaking what they must be scheming. It seems there is an ulterior motive. When I think about it, it can only be him pulling the strings behind all of this… What on Earth is he planning?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

(1) 蘊蓄（うんちく）: Lit. ‘great/vast knowledge.’ Yuma uses this word to call Reiji 蘊蓄野郎（うんちくやろう）and in this case 野郎 (やろう) can be translated as ‘bastard,’ so—although it doesn’t cover the full extent of the meaning of these words—I translated it as ‘smart-ass’ here for convenience.

(2) NEET (Not in Education, Employment or Training): Japanese-English abbreviation for young people who don’t do anything with their lives.

[cherrychilli]

Slip of the Tongue

A mini series I 18+ I Enemies to lovers

Chapter three

Chapter Summary: Things turn sour in the days after you scramble out of Eddie's trailer, leading to an interesting confrontation at your old alma mater.

Chapter warnings: Oral sex (m)

Tag list rules:

New additions: Make sure to both reblog the chapter and comment letting me know if you'd like to be added to the list and PLEASE HAVE YOUR AGE CLEARLY LISTED IN YOUR BIO IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED. AGELESS BLOGS/BLANK BLOGS/MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Current tag list: Make sure to reblog the chapter if you'd like to remain on the list for future updates.

It’s been a week since that day in Eddie’s bedroom.

During that time, you hit the books, powered through your shifts, made it to every lecture and finished your midterms, now holding the fruit of your labor in your hands.

You managed to score in the 90’s again, relief filtering into your lungs with deep, calming breaths because it accounted for 25% of your final grade. With your academic progress still intact, you slipped the glowing results sheet into your bag, allowing yourself to think of your neighbor again.

And as weird as it is to say, you do feel strangely grateful for his contribution.

You’d awoken the day after bolting out of Eddie’s place with your head already crowded with thoughts of him but admittedly, having slept better than you had in a long time. He’d talked a big game and he delivered – the encounter having unwound you enough to get back to work with renewed focus.

So yes, you were grateful but also, you were furious.

Seven whole days had passed by and you hadn’t seen Eddie once.

You tried not to read into the fact that for that entire week, you didn’t hear him play his guitar once. Tried not to let your chest cave in when you didn’t catch him outside working on that tetanus trap on wheels he called a van when you took off for work. Tried not to grit your teeth when you didn’t run into him even when you returned home. Every trace of him gone.

It wasn’t that you wanted to see him exactly, but you couldn’t ignore how his absence made you feel – like a mistake he was trying to run away from.

On day four, the day after your exams, you’d even gone so far as to try wheedling some answers out of Wayne when you passed by the older man on your way to work, attempting to be as inconspicuous about it as possible.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to share a few polite words with Wayne whenever you ran into him but it was out of the ordinary for you to bring up his nephew in any other context that didn’t have to do with a noise complaint.

Segueing into it as gracefully as you could manage, you tried to make it sound as offhand as possible, like a casual observation rather than the heavily rehearsed thing that had consumed your mind all day.

“It’s been pretty quiet in the park lately. He sick or something?”, you asked him while toing at some nearby gravel like your own interest in the question was waning.

You refused to say Eddie’s name, afraid that just by mentioning it, it might put a crack in the eggshell thin mask that holds your hurricane of emotions at bay.

As you had expected, Wayne regards you with some surprise – catching his nearly imperceptible squint, his craggy brow crinkling too. It was both unavoidable and understandable. You would have reacted the same way if you were him.

The weight of his second long silence borders on excruciation, something almost surgical about the way he assesses you. Dissecting you is what it really felt like but thankfully, he shows you mercy.

“Says he’s got things to do at school – doubt there’s any studying involved though”, he lets out a huff, a dry, almost laugh that conveyed his long suffering history with his nephew’s unbeaten record for flunking.

Eddie willingly spending more time at school? The same boy who once climbed down out of a second story window, slipped and hauled ass on a sprained ankle just to get out of taking a math test?

So he was avoiding you.

Despite the bitter taste clawing at the back of your throat, you mustered up a laugh of your own and hoped it was convincing enough, waving goodbye to Wayne as you parted ways.

For those seven days you blocked out the thought of Eddie as best you could but now that your exams were no longer a concern, you were finally free to confront the spineless louse.

If he thought he was going to be safe holed up at your old alma mater he was dead fucking wrong.

Treading fire onto campus, you marched through waves of highschoolers, making a steady beeline for the drama room, remembering that was where he held those weird meetings with his weirdo friends in their weird matching t-shirts.

The teenagers hastily parted off to the side in an effort to get out of your way, some of the seniors who recognized you beginning to whisper, speculating as to what brought you back and looking so incensed.

Stomping up to the room, you let loose all that had been simmering inside you – all that frustration from being evaded and those acrid feelings that felt too close to rejection, parting the doors open forcefully with both hands. It makes for your desired entrance when they swing back and bang closed behind you like a thunderclap, startling the boy who’d been busy scribbling in his notebook getting ready for his next campaign.

His pen clattered to the floor from where it flew out his hand and bounced off a nearby theater prop. You can’t be sure given how abrupt it was but you think he might have yelped too, a high pitched eep like some sort of puppy who had its tail stepped on by mistake.

Sitting askew on his carved wooden throne, Eddie’s cast in warm hues of orange and yellow underneath stage lights and candlelight but nothing shines brighter than the sheer surprise overwhelming his face. It pleases you more to recognize the unmistakable tinge of fear he’s incapable of hiding behind his wide eyes when they land on you.

Good. He should be scared, your mood far from friendly as you turn to lock the door behind you and retrieve the key, clutching it tight in your palm.

Was this overkill? locking him inside with you? You didn’t think so. Not after he’d weaseled his way out of talking to you for an entire week. You weren’t about to leave room for him to plan an escape route too.

You stepped closer to where he cowered at the D&D table, your lips pulled into an imitation smile, curved up exactly like one but so clearly absent of any sweetness or warmth, only radiating danger.

To Eddie, your menacing saunter resembled a cobra leisurely winding its way up to cornered prey, jaw seconds away from unhinging to swallow him whole.

He flinches when you slap down your results sheet on the table, now crumpled from how you had it clenched in your fist on your way over here. Better the paper than his neck you supposed although truthfully, you were still on the fence about that.

“Uh, what’s this?”, he finally dares to speak, a nervous croak of a sound that scratched its way out of his throat, cautiously leaning closer to examine the paper. The spiteful devil perched on your left shoulder chittered and sneered, whispering all sorts of encouragement to make you reply with spite, to make some underhanded remark about how you’re not surprised he couldn’t recognize anything that didn’t have a row of F’s stamped all over it given it’s his second time repeating senior year.

But the lenient angel on your right shoulder leaned in and spoke reason into your other ear, dulcet but insistent reminders that you only came here to inquire, not injure.

The devil withers away with a snarl when you clench your jaw, holding your tongue at bay, unable to spit that kind of venom at Eddie.

Before now, your main gripe with him was his disruptive influence, the way he wedged himself into your life like a splinter caught underneath your fingernail with his head rattling music and blood boiling snark. Grinning like his biggest pleasure in life was annoying you enough to darken his bedroom window day after day with a face full of fury and a mouthful of fuck you’s. He was too carefree for your liking as well, able to shrug off his plummeting grades when a minor slip of yours would have you digging out your emergency pack of cigarettes to chain smoke the stress away in secret. But taking shots at his intellect like all the other assholes you went to school with felt too…slimy.

The same assholes who had looked down on you and your trailer park background. The same assholes who rolled their eyes when you got accepted to your College of choice. The same assholes who cackled when you had to enroll in a nearby Community College instead when your family’s finances fell in the red.

Maybe you weren’t a cobra after all, only masquerading as one.

“My midterms. I passed”, you answered him flatly, watching recollection flash across his face.

The stress it had caused you was the reason why this all started in the first place after all.

 “Couldn’t have done it if you hadn’t helped me out”, you added pointedly, tone almost accusatory.

Even under the vivid stage lights that paint his complexion like a sunset, you can still make out the way his cheeks pink up at the vague mention of what had happened in his bed that day.

“Oh, uh– that’s great”, he offered you something that resembled a smile, face so twisted with nerves that he couldn’t get his lips to curve up the right way. Jesus, you’d never seem him like this before. He was barely recognizable and for the first time in your life, you found yourself preferring his usual tornado presence and boisterous anti charm.

“Yeah. So, why’ve you been avoiding me?”

His jaw tensed at that, throat bobbing as he swallowed. Obviously, you hadn’t come by to say thank you.

“Listen, the club will be here in an hour. They already know I’m in here so just give me the key and…we’ll talk about this later, okay?”, he attempted to negotiate with you in the same way one might try to approach a skittish horse, overly cautious with an undertone of fear, holding out a shaky palm to collect the key but you weren’t about to give in now.

“What, so you can find somewhere new to hide?”, you sneered.

To show him you’re serious about seeing this conversation to the end you make a show of dangling the key to the drama room in front of his face – his only hope of escape, but it’s what you’re doing with your other hand that gathers his attention.

Hooking a finger into the neckline of your t-shirt, you pull it low enough for your cleavage to show, soft swells sitting high on your chest, framed by pretty lace. And despite the dread trickling down Eddie’s spine, thick like tar, one thing becomes abundantly clear in that moment.

He’s only a man.

The little flash of tit is enough to trigger his hormones. Stupefied, he takes in an eyeful, committing the contours of your breasts to memory – the newest entry into the sordid vault of his spank bank before he’s able to snap out of it. He attempts to snatch the key from you but he’s too slow, stomach cartwheeling as he watches it disappear into your cleavage when you tuck it away for safe keeping in your bra cup. Honestly, he can’t decide if he’s more upset about it or turned on.

Face twisting with exasperation, he locks his eyes back on yours.

“You’re being ridiculous!” he accuses with increasingly reddening cheeks.

Unbothered by the claim, you shove a couple of dice and a few of his notes aside to sit yourself on the edge of the table, arms crossed underneath your breasts, showing your defiance.

This isn’t like when he’d gotten you to beg for your release, chipping away at your resolve with his touch and tongue until you crumbled under the weight of ecstasy. You’ve molded yourself into an imposing shadow of the girl who came undone on his sheets, obstinate and immovable and it’s clear that you’ll sooner wear him down for an answer even if it means being stuck here in this room all night than leave without one.

Eddie’s hardened expression falters as he realizes this, sighing. Relenting.

“Fine”, he slumps back in his chair.

“I didn’t mean to…I didn’t know what to say– “

“Bullshit”, you cut him off with an icy scoff. Eddie Munson at a loss for words? Sure. And Steve Harrington’s a bald virgin.

“It’s not bullshit”, he attempts to deny, some heat behind his words.

“Do I need to remind you that you’re the one who offered to help me “relax” in the first place?” you bit back with heat to match.

Your rebuttal has him silent – both of you knowing he can’t argue otherwise.

“Where’d all that bravado go, Munson?” you poke again just to see the vein at his temple bulge but he doesn’t answer, jaw set firm.

You’d hoped to scare it out of him at first or even force it out of him by locking him in here but for once that metalhead menace is tightlipped and damn good at it.

Taking another moment to consider your options you gird yourself to ask the one question you’ve been dreading. Casting your eyes down, arms tightening under your breasts, the key shifts into an awkward angle, jabbing your soft flesh but it’s not nearly as unpleasant as what you have to say next. You weren’t sure if you wanted to hear the answer but you force it out, tongue turning more sour the longer the question sat there unasked.

“Do you regret it?”

It’s the way your tone loses all of its heat, crumbling slightly at the end of your question that makes him feel like the world’s biggest jackass. Another awful second of silence passes before you’re startled by him shooting out of his seat, chair screeching noisily against the floor as its forced back so quickly, his hand reaching for yours but he stops short of your fingers touching.

This close, you can smell him again. That same scent that clung to his bed. That same scent that hung on your hair. The same scent you reluctantly washed away in the shower that night you got back home. It makes you feel woozy, like a cloud full of pheromones to the face. If he takes one more step, you’re afraid you might leap up and bite his chest through his shirt like an animal in heat.

“I don’t regret it”, he answers you, gentle. Honest.

And just like that, all the anxiety you’d carried around for a week unravels with those four words. In its place, relief strummed on your ribs like nimble fingers plucking strings on a harp, a hopeful tune building up to a crescendo inside your chest. But you don’t let it show – forcing an impending smile away, keeping your expression unreadable because you liked the way he looked back at you, sweating with uncertainty.

“Okay – then you wouldn’t mind me returning the favor, would you?”, you rose up from the table, placing a palm in the middle of his chest.

“Huh?” he stumbles back, the back of his knee connecting with his chair.

“Fair’s fair right?”

With a little effort, you push him back into his seat, dropping down to kneel between his legs when they spread for you.

“Shit shit wait- really?”, he sputters as your fingers climb up to his belt, working open that damn handcuff buckle you’d become curious about to the point of near infatuation in the last few days.

You roll your eyes in reply like his question is a nuisance to you, growing excited under the surface.

Popping open the button on his jeans and pulling down his zipper, you can see that he’s already half hard underneath his boxers, a thick outline of his cock growing more prominent.

He’s warm in your hand when you pull his jeans and boxers down to grasp him, watching it spring up, feeling him grow harder by the second. Your fingers are dwarfed by the size of him although you already expected that after what you had seen in his trailer.

Eddie tenses when you bring your face closer, lips parted, breath puffing against his flushed, throbbing tip. Just a little more and-

“But before I do, you’re going to tell me why you avoided me”

He blinks back at your wicked smile and sharp eyes, plummeting.

“You’re fucking evil, you know that? First you hold me hostage and now you’re going to interrogate me with your fist around my dick?”

You grin back, squeezing him mostly gently, the warmth of your hand alone enough to make him feel compliant.

“Do it or I’ll stop”, you threaten sweetly.

Somehow, he likes the sound of that even less than the fear of you doing something like snapping it clean off.

There’s something so perversely satisfying about getting to use his words against him – withholding his release in the same way he had done with you. Being on the other side of it, you now understand why he enjoyed it so much, the potent thrill of being in control.

“Fuck okay”, he lets his head fall back to thud against the back of his throne, the column of his neck stretched and bared for you to see the way his Adams apple bobs in his throat with a thick swallow.

“I thought about you all the time…” he starts, tipping his chin down to look at you again, eyes dark and shadowy from this angle. “Shit, I couldn’t sleep after what happened in my bed – had to get away because I knew if I saw you again, I’d just drag you back there”

Something about the image of him manhandling you, maybe even hauling you over his shoulder, all overcome with unbridled cave man lust for you as he takes you back to his bed brews excitement in your bones. You only hoped it didn’t show on your face.

“And I knew that- well, I thought, because you didn’t actually say, but all you wanted was a one time thing…right?”, he asks, a hint of disappointment in his tone.

That was your intention when you first climbed into his bedroom, yes. But now…

“You seemed to hold back just fine when I came in here”, you skirt around the question in favor of focusing on what he’d said before that, starting to stroke him slowly as a small reward for his honesty.

“You scared the fuck out of me”, his breath grows shorter now that you’re moving your hand. “And we’re in school – didn’t think you’d actually come down here. You liked this place less than I did”

That’s true, you did. You just didn’t expect him to have noticed, let alone have remembered that fact. Guess all that ganja didn’t total his memory completely.

“Well, I couldn’t just let this go on after everything that happened”, you state plainly, twisting your wrist slightly around his base before pulling back up to trace his tip with your thumb.

This time he doesn’t shy away from the vague mention. You can almost see the memory reflecting off his umber eyes as it replays in his mind.

“Didn’t even want to throw my sheets in the laundry”, he admits, a throaty timbre to his tone that makes you stroke him faster.

“That’s gross, Eddie”, you deride, nose wrinkling but he can see right through it. He recognizes it easily – the same forced disgust you’d showed him when he flicked his tongue at you and offered to get you off, trying to hide how much you liked it.

“Could still smell you on them even after they were washed you know – even though I knew they were clean. Like one of those subconscious things or whatever. Every time I thought of you, I felt like I could still taste you on my tongue”

He’s clearly done holding back, no longer the shrinking Dungeon Master you’d stormed in on not too long ago. This is the Eddie you knew well and knowing the thought of you had affected him to the point that it impacted his senses, haunting him even, makes you rush with pride.

“I never got to taste you”, you suddenly recalled, surprised you’d forgotten even for a moment considering how much thought you’d given it in the few days prior.

And with that you leaned forward, lips parting, tongue seeking his cock, licking from the bottom of his veiny shaft up to the head.

The slow, wet drag of your tongue along his sensitive skin is the kind of sensation that will not leave him quietly, groaning around all kinds of expletives as his palms clamped down on the armrests of his chair, knuckles turning white.

Taking the first few inches into your mouth, you wrapped your lips around him and sucked slowly. Swirling your tongue around the leaking tip, you get a proper taste of him, collecting a dribble of precum before pulling off. The texture of it is silky on your tongue as you sucked the mix of tangy and salty sweet onto the roof of your mouth, letting it slide down the back of your throat like honey and swallowed.

“What else did you think about?”, you asked, missing the sound of his voice as you moved to lick along his shaft again, tongue feeling around the veins adorning it.

How he’s able to keep up a conversation when you’ve got your mouth on him like this he doesn’t know. Maybe it’s the fear that you might threaten to stop again. Maybe it’s the way your eyes look up at him all cloudy with need and your thighs clench together when he talks about the thoughts he’s had about you.

“Everything we didn’t get to do that day. I know we only agreed on helping you out but after watching you tidal wave my bed I couldn’t help myself”

The crass description nearly makes you snort against his dick despite yourself; your whole face going supernova with a mix of amusement and embarrassment. It makes Eddie grin.

“I thought about this a lot. I couldn’t believe it but I knew – you wanted me in your mouth back then too, didn’t you?”

Imparting a little honesty of your own, you answer him with a whisper, licking off another clear bead of precum from his slit. “I did”.

Eddie's eyes lit up, lips turning up into a smirk. “Watching you leave after that was torture, you have no idea. You’ve ran that smart little mouth of yours at me for years – hated missing my chance to shut you up for once”

That earns him a deadpanned look and calls for a warning.

You bring a hand down to squeeze his balls and smirked when he groaned, this time nearing on pained, hands releasing the armrests with his palms held up in surrender.

“Okay okay! Easy. You’re a soft spoken delight, alright?”

With a pleased chuckle bubbling up your throat, you relinquish your hold to massage them gently instead, rolling them in your palm, continuing to stroke him with your other hand.

“Did you think about fucking me?”

“Yeah…”, he answers at the end of a thick gulp.

“How?”

“Huh?”

“How would you fuck me, Eddie? rough?”

He considers it before answering. “Not at first…but yeah, I’d – fuck, do that again? – I don’t think I could be gentle for very long because I know you can take it”

It’s like he’s reached inside of you and flipped a switch you hadn’t even been aware was there. You’d been wound so tight for so long. You needed him to use you.

“Could you be rough with me now?”, you asked, triggering a sly quirk of his eyebrow.

“You asking me to fuck your face, sweetheart?”

There’s that cocky edge again and you're quick to spar with it.

“Yes or no, Munson?”, you return, all stony faced. There won’t be any begging from you today.

He frowns when you pull out his last name again.

“Aren’t we beyond that now?”

You grin back, too stubborn for your own good.

“No”

Eddie's frown fades, a grin stretching across his face to match your own.

“Open your damn mouth”

Ringed fingers weave into your hair as you part your lips for him, allowing him to breach the wet velvet of your mouth. His girth puts some strain on your jaw but you’re able to accommodate him, tongue cradling the underside of his cock as it glides over the muscle. You’re doing well so far, letting the hand on your head, firm but gentle, guide you down until the tip of his cock bumps the back of your throat and you gag.

“Go on – choke a little for me”, he grunts.

Tears wet your eyes as you try to breathe through it, throat squeezing back against the intrusion, saliva pooling in your mouth as it begins to drip past your lips.

Eddie starts to thrust into your mouth and you take him as far into your throat as you can manage. Your nails dig into his thighs through the short, ragged pumps, past even what you thought to be your limit when your nose presses close to his pelvis, brushing the thatch of hair at his base. You find that you like how he smells there too – musky and masculine.

The sounds you pull out of him make your core ache – every hitch of his breath, every choked off moan, every rumbling groan and throaty grunt. But you stamp down the hot roiling in your belly and ignore the sticky need pooling in your panties because you really did mean what you said about returning the favor. It was your turn to please him, sidelining your own pleasure for the time being in the same way that he had done for you. Not that there wasn’t any pleasure to be derived from being in your position.

The part of you that was greedy savored every sound and liked knowing you were making him feel good – that all those noises he was making was because of you. And the part of you that was competitive took pleasure in knowing you were proving he wasn’t the only one here with a skillful mouth.

Growing more and more used to it, you take it well as he fucks your throat and he tells you as much.

“Knew I was right about you. Knew you could take it – Christ, yes, just like that”

The praise makes you bob ardently, saliva soaking his cock, trailing down to his balls. You’ve adopted a pace of your own now, Eddie’s fingers still tangled in your hair but no longer guiding you.

"Shit– I’m gonna cum. where do you– "

You pull off his cock, his eyes trained on your wet, swollen lips gasping for air, your hand taking over to pump his spit-soaked length.

“Do it in my mouth”, you finish for him, desperation staining your tone.

You take him in your mouth again, not all the way this time, using your hand to stroke what you can’t fit past your sore lips anymore.

“Fuck – oh g- fuck”

Eddie’s hips jerk and then it happens – you feel the hot lines of his release begin to spurt onto your tongue, tangy and creamy thick. You swallow it down with his dick still in your mouth, throat contracting around his twitching, spent length. You pull off slowly until it’s just his tip your lips are wrapped around, lingering on it, sucking it like you don’t want to let go. You’re forced to let it slip from your mouth when his groans near pained again, sensitivity proving too much for him now.

Sitting back on your haunches, you watch his chest puff up and down while he recovers, head thrown back against the back of his chair.

When he’s able to, he puts his softening cock away, redoing his jeans before he pulls out a bandana from his back pocket and offers it to you.

“It’s clean I promise”.

The sweetness of the gesture makes your stomach flutter. Managing a meek ‘thank you’, you use the dark material adorned with bones and skulls to wipe your lips and chin of the sticky mixture of saliva and Eddie’s spend.

Next, he offers you a hand and you take it, letting him help you off your knees and on to your feet.

“Listen, I’m sorry for last time. When you had to leave, I mean. And for avoiding you after that”, he informs you, much more tender than you're used to with him.

“I didn’t even get to uh…”, patiently, you wait for him to finish but he doesn’t, watching his face twist, all conflicted. You can see the thought ping pong around inside his head, wishing you could just reach in and pluck it out for yourself but he brushes it off before he’s able to share it with you, leaving you wondering.

“Never mind. Jeff and Gareth are going to be here soon and you probably don’t want to be seen in here with me like um, thisss”, he drags out the single syllable, unsure of a more tactful way to phrase it.

You don’t need to ask him to know that “thisss” means you look like a fucked-out mess because that’s exactly how you feel with your unruly hair and your sore jaw.

Just as before, there’s too much that’s been left unsaid but the threat of another close call has you reluctantly fishing the key out of your bra, tossing it at Eddie while you attempt to tame your hair back into something presentable, wiping off your damp cheeks too. You’re yet to realize that you haven’t returned his bandana, still clutching it in your hand.

Eddie catches the key though he doesn’t make a move towards the door, staring down at his palm like he’d just been gifted a bar of gold.

“It’s warm”, he says quietly, one of those thoughts that wasn’t meant to be said out loud but slipped past the barrier of his lips quicker than he could notice, you surmised.

It’s kind of cute actually – that dopey, spellbound look spilling over his face.

“Unlock the door, Eddie”, you sigh, subduing a laugh. At least you didn’t accuse him of being gross again like you would have an hour ago.

“Oh, right”

He steps over to the door while you gather yourself, daylight shining into the dingily lit room when he unlocks it and pulls it open.

After a quick look around outside to make sure no one sees you leaving, he steps back and holds the door open for you but you linger.

…all you wanted was a one-time thing…right?

No. Not anymore.

You weren’t sure what the two of you were now. Neighbors who got each other off? Former enemies but not really friends with benefits?

The specifics didn’t matter. At least, not right now. All you knew was that you didn’t want whatever this was to end.

Turning to Eddie, you say something you never thought you would. Not to him.

“My family’s gone for the weekend. You can come over tonight…if you want”

The smile that crosses his face is both warm and cocky, much like the one he’d flashed you from his window when this all began.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah”, you soften but only slightly. Unsmiling but not inimical.

“Oh, and if you stand me up?”, voice heating up, you jabbed a finger against his chest, right between the L and the F of his Hellfire shirt. “Try to run away again?”, you jab again and he staggers a step back, wincing when you press over the same sore spot again. “I’ll nail your balls to your front door, understand?”

For a moment he stares back at you. Stunned. And then, true to the freak riddle that he is, he smiles back even brighter.

-

Tag list - @honey-flustered @cryingglightningg @cadence73 @taccobelle @mrsjellymunson

[quixotical-lymbo]

Pairing: Wukong & gn!Reader Rating: SFW Summary: Coming back from a training expedition by your mentor was ruined when your reunion led you to meeting his true successor.  Warnings/Tags: Post s5 (i don't think this counts as spoilers since i haven't mentioned anything significant about s5 in the post, but spoilers I guess??), Hurt/No comfort, MK cameo but not really idk he's there being nosy, angst, might make into a mini-series, idk, Wukong being Wukong always withholding important info till the last second. Word Count: 1000+ words

"What the heck is that?" 

Wukong's face paled as he turned to look over his shoulder where MK pointed in the sky. There, looking akin to a shooting star with (f/c) trail of sparks, a ball of light came shooting toward the mountain the pair were training at. 

 

"OMIGOSH, MONKEY KING, MOVE! IT'S ABOUT TO-" MK tried pulling on Wukong's sleeve to move him out of the way of the meteoroid, but the simian simply stood his ground as the ball of light finally landed. MK dropped to the ground as dust and dirt sprayed from the crash, but as he cracked open an eye the only thing he found was an non-destroyed mountain, his mentor frowning, and a person standing in the middle of a crater where the meteorite was supposed to be at. 

MK shot up from the ground and leaned close to his mentor to whisper, "...uh….who is that?"

"...uh, crap, kid, they're..um, they were my-"

"Heyyyyy, monkey king! Did ya miss me?" Your voice carried a lot of weight as it echoed. You grinned widely while stepping out of the crater you formed, clenched hands trembling at your sides as your eyes sharply switched to the rando standing beside your teacher. "I sure as hell missed you…but, I didn't know that this duo became a trio…strange, right?" 

Wukong rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "[Y/n], what a pleasant surprise! I didn't think you'd be-"

"Back so soon? Yeah, well, I'm just that good, aren't I?" You cut in as you stalked closer to the two. Wukong's loop-sided smile fell into a tight line as he took a step forward and kept himself between MK and the mysterious '[Y/n].' 

Your smirk nearly faltered seeing the arm held out to keep whoever was beside him from harm's way. At least your mentor knew damn well how much of a threat you could be.

"It's just…finding the little tears and cracks in the sky made me think that I should pay my ol' pal a visit and see if he might need my help!" You crossed your arms over your chest before gesturing to the sky. "Though, it took me a while to get back since I was sent across the world for my training…it seems like everything is fixed up! I. Wonder. Why." 

"Am I interrupting something…or…?" MK clutched the staff in his hands nervously as the '[Y/n]' person's gaze on him darkened. MK's eyes widened as he snapped his head to look at the monkey king while fuming, "Please don't tell me this is another one of your enemies coming back to bite you-" 

"-Woah, woah, kiddo! It's nothing like that but…I dunno, why don't you ask our mentor, hm?" You watched in pleasure as the rando's scowl morphed into shock as he gazed at Wukong—who flinched at the sudden attention from both of his students. "I'm sure he has all the answers you're looking for." 

"Give me two minutes," Wukong held out his hand toward you in an attempt for a merciful interlude to your much needed conversation. You blew air from your flared nostrils, but nodded at him and looked away while Wukong turned to MK. 

"Who, what, where, and why?!"

"I'll give you the long version later, but right now all you need to know is that before I met you there was another person I was considering giving my staff to…and yeah," Wukong scratched the back of his head.

"Wuh-huh-what?! You were messing with another student when you were getting all up in my ass for having Macaque as my mentor?" MK exclaimed angrily. 

"Let's not dwell on the past right now, just head home and we'll pick this up tomorrow alright?" Wukong chuckled nervously as he patted MK's shoulder and shoved his reluctant successor away. MK puffed his cheeks out as he prepared the staff to launch him into the sky, when he disappeared Wukong sighed and turned around slowly to face you. 

As the air whizzed past and filled his ears with their whistles, MK's mind was filled with the image of you. Why did you come back now of all times? Were you just another enemy he would eventually have to defeat all over again?

MK's frown deepened as he glanced over his shoulder for a moment, conflict crossing his features. Maybe if he intervened this time…he won't have to go through with another saving the world fiasco if he could convince you to forgive the monkey king for whatever he did.

MK shook his head at the ridiculous thought, but the terror of not trying to prevent another disaster was eating away at him. MK groaned in frustration and ricocheted himself back toward the mountain he just left. 

Honestly, he was sick and tired of the same routine. Peaceful, things go wrong, an old enemy of his mentor appears, the world is somehow ending, repeat, repeat repeat. Perhaps it was time he actually tried to prevent the bad things instead of being the cause of it--directly or indirectly. 

MK landed on the side of the mountain, the staff stabbed into the earth as he stood on it to peek over the edge. Luckily enough, MK could clearly see Wukong and '[Y/n]' talking given by their exaggerated arm movements. MK leaned closer and strained his ear to listen in on the conversation. 

"...didn't mean for this…"

"...why…n…enough?"

"No, no, your…jus…important…" 

"What.....he ha... that I...don...ave..?" 

“It's nothing that you don't have it's just…he's different and I made a m-” Wukong's voice rose just enough for MK to clearly hear him.

“Mistake? Ha…hahaha! So, so I'm a mistake now?” 

 “Shit, I worded that wrong, but you know what I mean!”

“I know what you meant! When were you even going to tell me that I was being replaced?”

“You're not…you're not being ‘replaced’ you're just…I-hey, who even told you this?” 

“Does it really matter who told me?!” 

MK winced as he reeled back at the shout that ripped from the stranger's throat, his brow creased with worry as Wukong approached them only for his hand to be slapped away. [Y/n]'s muffled sobs could be heard even from where MK was spying on them, but that wasn't the worst of it. The worst of it was when MK's eyes met with the teary-eyed gaze of the monkey king's first student. 

Their eyes met for a brief moment, but in that moment MK could see so many things that were left unsaid swirling and burning in their eyes. MK didn't realize that he wasn't breathing until the ex-classmate of his turned away and left the same way they came from that ball of light. 

Wukong stood there with his outstretched hand hanging in the air before it fell to his side. 

"I am sooo going to get my ass kicked for this later." 

Wukong looked down for a moment before tilting his head.

"You can come out now, kid." 

MK climbed up and took a seat on the ground. Wukong, silently crossing his legs as he joined his successor, pinched the space between his eyes.

"I guess I should start at the beginning." 

🍜 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. sparkle banner(s) by @adornedwithlight !!

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Happy April!

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Ari Levinson

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Azriel

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Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton

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[the-s1lly-corner]

Flirting with Eyeless Jack

yay another mini series for creepypasta stuff (other being that date night series i did a while back.. i was going to do another character for that but i got most of the characters done that i can comfortably write romantic for) anyways,... uhuhuhuh this is just an excuse for me to write something for my boy

honestly as much as i love the idea of jack being a really huge flirt in contrast to him being a hermit and even before that not being that social/socially experienced i love the "oblivious character" trope way more so hes being oblivious today on this blog

the type to look at you for a minute after you say a flirty joke or pick up line, totally not understanding that you're flirting with him.. probably asks you to explain the joke or line because hes genuinely stumped at what youre saying

if you wanna see that boy blush youre going to have to be blunt and straight forward... though sometimes he'll realize your flirting hours later when hes laying in bed; long after youve left to go home

definitely the type to have his blush reach his ears and neck... since hes ice cold normally, his face feels weirdly warm when you touch it.. not weirdly as in "its too warm" weirdly as in "oh hes usually freezing cold this is weird seeing him warm for once"

i dont think he would be a good flirt... like yeah sure he can make the most basic pick up lines work, the ones that everyone knows.. and he can pump just enough confidence into his words to come off as attractive

that sounded mean but i hope you guys know what i mean

...though pathetic men who have no swag are also cute

point aside, when it comes to actively trying to flirt back hes pretty much helpless

so hes at your mercy..

i think hes the type to get quiet when hes being flirted with and knows hes being flirted with... although hes already a quiet person

not that he doesnt like your advances or appreciates them..! he just feels a little put on the spot... also add in the fact hes very much self loathing and constantly wondering what you see in him and why you stick around the literal man eating monster.. loads of thoughts going through his head, you know?

im gonna be evil. let that boy have this sad look on his face when you're really going at it because the thoughts above are getting really loud in his skull

honestly i dont think you can ever really get rid of those thoughts no matter how much you try to reassure him

not leaving this on a sweet note im thinking of angst now