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slothpoth · 10 months

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Uncanny Vash and Knives Hcs

I just finished TriMax like— today so now I feel more comfortable being Public with hcs

TW: Body horror and the like

I’m gonna format this by saying overall hcs and then getting specific on how both of them treat/adapt to these hcs and what personal differences they have

Duo Headcannons

Every time their voicebox reopens their voice takes on a different tone

Most of the time it’s imitating voices they’ve heard in the past, sometimes it’s a weird amalgamation of them creating a new voice.

For example when they only knew Rem their voices would sometimes go a bit too high pitched like it’s their original voice mixed with Rem or just straight up Rem

Their eyes are very glassy and doll-like

I won’t say life less because they can still emote but I think when they’re at rest it’d be very like IB/ Mad Father Doll Room Tease

I’m playing with the idea of them not blinking but I wanna make it freakier somehow so maybe they blink inconsistently? Like one eye will blink every hour and the other every two hours?

The surface of their skin is always feels like there’s an electric current underneath, like you touch their arm and they have buzzies

Independents in general start off looking very uncanny as a newborn, grow into a child that looks very human, and as they rapidly age they start to become more plant like again (got inspo for this from possuminatrenchcoat_27 on tiktok)

This could possibly be a newer adaptation after what happened with Tesla assuming that Tesla is the first instance of an independent/ the first instance of an vs independent getting brutalized like that.

When they get antsy or any high tension you’d be able to see their respective abilities kind of…..moving under their skin

When the tension or emotion gets too much they start to like leak whatever their thing is, think “Hikaru” from The Summer Hikaru Died

When they bleed it’s a mixture of blood of sometimes a feather or a leaf or two

Viewing their “human” visages as a sort of disguise, I’d like to assume they can change colors

And by change colors I mean change how saturated or unsaturated their skin, hair, nails, and other organic parts are

Like if they do choose they can have the brightest teeth none to man and plant

Speaking of teeth, they can choose how many, how little, how long, how short, and what order their teeth are in

Also!! Incredible muscle control, like thinks Fox in a trap, rather than knaw off their leg they simply move and contract the muscle (and possibly bone) until they can slip out

They can photosynthesize but when they do it’s very obvious and very ominous

Like imagine one of them standing looking up, neck limp head back, eyes wide and unfocused slightly rolled back, jaw slack, a rumbling coming from the top of their head and from the ground but nowhere inbetween

Their senses are heightened so in high traffic areas they can get overwhelmed easily, especially considering that they spent their developing and adapting years on the ships where the loudest thing was the machine hum

I think it’d be funny if they can make themselves smell like different types of foliage like one day it’s roses the next it’s honeydew the next it’s just grass

Vash Copes

so Mr. Deluxe-Life-Like over here is a hummer

Like he’ll hum and clear his throat and make noises to try a get his speaking voicebox to around a tone that somewhat sounds like him.

He can’t just start randomly talking and sound like Milly! That’d be rude!

So along with the rainforest animal sequence chittering and chattering he’s just, “hmm hrrmm huummm buh…how are doing? Do you feel okay?”

To make up for how his eyes are he wears glasses (of course) but also had figured out how to dilate his eyes in time with what he sees in other people’s emotions (incredible muscle control)

He’ll be purposely very expressive to take as much attention from his eyes as possible so none notices how his eyes look or the blinking issue

Sometimes he’ll make himself blink when he knows he’s being looked at

So when Vash is getting antsy under his skin youll see almost like vines wiggling about underneath, but very inconsistently

Like if you’re looking at his arm you’ll see a long thin vine, that could be mistaken for a vein, jerk around sporadically

When he’s getting very antsy the vine will sprout thorns that’ll push through his skin like water. It won’t leave a wound behind the skin will just fall back together

That’s why he likes the coat so much because you can’t see the things going on under his skin

So like imagine an almost worm like part of his skin being raised that’s jerking around and moving these thorns that just glide through his skin (freaky huh?)

I think Vash would use the color changing thing for comedic effect, like the usual tinting red for blush or embarrassment, stuff like that

Despite having all these options for self customization, I think Vash would keep it pretty human like.

Well— not exactly. He hasn’t been in a place to get the details right so he kinda…fills in the blank spaces with other things!

Like since he hasn’t had the time to peek into someone’s mouth, he has a dog mouth. He’s seen the inside of a dogs mouth lot of times what’s wrong with it? They look cool!

One time him and wolfwood were play fighting and WW had pinned him so Vash started to moved his muscles around to squeeze out and WW got so scared he jumped like a foot in the air and cowered in a corner

Vash doesn’t photosynthesize often because he typically eating so that’s how he gets his energy

But when he’s on the run and another town is a ways away and he’s sooo hungry he just gotta Yknow

one time Meryl and Milly caught up to him while he was doing it and when they approached (after passing once to try to taunt him with water) he jerked out of it in a blink all creepy like

Like they were a yard away from his back and they blinked and now he’s a foot away and facing them all “Hey Ladies!” fym hey ladies bitch move

For his senses I feel like he kind of enjoys being on the run so he’s not constantly overstimulated by all the sounds of towns

Don’t get him wrong he loves towns and people but 24/7 everytime he opened his eyes? He just needs a wee break is all

Smell wise I think he’d keep to a grass kind of scent, it’s all he really knows

So when Meryl or Milly or Wolfwood come up and get personal with him and ask “what are you wearing” after answering cheekily for a while he just goes “nothing, I just smell like this”

Knives Cope

Welcome to the stage Mr. I-Look-Like-This-For-The-Irony and his special talent How Far Can We Push The Human Assumption

One of Knives’ pleasures is seeing how far he can push what he looks and acts like until people start to think he’s not a human

He’s found it’s reasonably far if he’s careful

Voice wise, Knives’ voice really doesn’t change all that often

It gets more erratic based on the people around you and Knives is usually isolated, since he’s not constantly around voices and people like Vash he just has to deal with voice pitching up and down and less imitations

That doesn’t mean it’s never happened

When he and Conrad first teamed up and we’re talking more often about their plans and what’s possible, Conrad thought Knives was warming up and being playful by imitating his voice sometimes

He chuckled once and Knives was like “What’s so funny.” And Conrad brought the voice thing up and Knives was like “That’s unintentional, why would I wanna win your favor I already have it.”

Knives knows his eyes are off putting. He knows very well.

He intentionally makes an overt amount of eye contact until he knows the other person is freaked out

When Knives gets to a point of tension where you can see his blades poking under his skin, he just lets em out

To him it’s his base plant side telling him to free himself of this embarrassing flesh suit so he’s like ah just as nature intended

It could also be why he has the cloak of blades cause he’s always high tension

Back to his stage act, How UnHuman Can We Look Until They Start Actually Thinking I’m Not Human, when it comes to their customization options, Knives likes the keep it just about human

He wants to look like his sisters, but knows he can’t get people to do what he wants if they think he looks too sweet (in his opinion his sisters are adorable)

So he tries to balance both visuals. He’s crazy pale with platinum blonde hair because his sisters are also incredibly pale.

But on the other hand, he keeps himself looking somewhat human because what else to should humanity see at its end but itself?

When he isn’t in public, he likes to look ALOT less human, like biblical Angel.

Knives doesn’t get into situations where he needs to move his muscles around himself to escape anything, the only time he did was when he and Vash were younger and playing around

Unlike Vash, Knives photosynthesizes all the time

He doesn’t like eating, it overwhelms his senses. The sunlight? Oh the sunlight.

Knives feels the same way about the Sun like yearning gays and the moon

He will photosynthesize even if he doesn’t have to, he does it so often he can do it laying down (he looks like a corpse and if you come too close to him while he’s laying there you will get skewered right ways)

Knives remembers more about the flowers Rem showed them and how they smell so usually he’ll choose whichever plant he thinks of first

That’s the end, this took like two days straight there was more in the thinker and reading The Summer Hikaru Died mid way through making it. Can you tell how much I like figuring out how human is human?

#trigun #trigun stampede #trigun vash #trigun knives #trigun nai #trigun stampede vash #trigun stampede knives #trigun stampede nai #trimax #uncanny vash #uncanny knives #uncanny nai #trigun headcanons #trigun stampede headcanons #vash headcanons #knives headcanons #nai headcannons

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oftenwantedafton · 2 months

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A Consolation Prize - William Afton x Female Reader

Chapter 1

Rating - Explicit

Word Count - 5k

Summary - William Afton’s never really noticed you before tonight. Now that he has, he can’t stop looking.

Content/Warnings - dubious consent, creep game verse William Afton smut, oral sex, masturbation, touching, grinding, voyeurism

Also available on AO3

William Afton really craves a cigarette.

He’s already used up the last pack he’d squirreled away for emergencies and he hasn’t yet had a chance to get another one. His wife hates it when he smokes, but he doesn’t particularly care about that anymore. It’s not like she’ll get close enough to him to even notice any lingering scent, let alone taste. Several times a week turning to once a week shifting to monthly and now…well, he’s lost count, to be honest. Just like she seems to have lost interest. It’s always The kids will hear or I’m too tired. As if he isn’t tired, too; as if running a restaurant isn’t as much effort as raising children, one nearly grown and the middle not that far behind. It’s become a solo routine now. Just a quick release. Barely enjoyable.

So he’s made up his mind he’s just going to step out for a bit from his pizzeria and pick up a fresh pack. Maybe two. Fuck it, an entire carton. And that’s when he bumps into you by the rear exit that leads to the employee parking lot.

Shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Tears spilling down your cheeks. Well, fuck.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Afton, I know I’m supposed to be inside working, I just…”

“What happened?”

“My boyfriend just dumped me.”

He sighs. Teenage drama. Hardly his concern. But you’re so clearly distraught and it makes him feel something. Instinct taking over. He’s always been good with young people. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“He said I was taking up too much of his time. He wanted to see more of his friends.”

“Without knowing the young man, I’m going to make a blanket statement here and say that boys his age are immature. He’ll regret his decision in time.”

“You think so?”

A hopeful note in your query. You still want to be with him, then. “Perhaps. And if he doesn’t, well, he’s an even bigger fool. Not worth your time. Certainly not worth all these tears.”

You sniffle, scrubbing at your cheeks. “I guess.”

The handkerchief in his shirt pocket doesn’t see much practical use; it’s become more of a fashion accent than anything. The last time he can recall using it was when his youngest had taken a tumble in the parking lot and had skinned his knee. Now it seems tonight it’s going to be put back into service. Dark purple nestled against the lighter violet shade of his dress shirt slipped free. He hands it to you and you hesitate.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Easy enough to wash.”

You seem a little embarrassed. Some of the pink coloring in your cheeks not from sorrow. A hasty swipe across your face, your runny nose quickly wiped.

The owner glances at his watch. It’s only an hour until close. “Why don’t you take the rest of the night off? Go home, take a shower, get a good night’s sleep. I won’t deduct it from your wages,” he adds.

“He was my ride home.”

“Well, I’m heading to the store. I can drop you off on the way.”

“You…you’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” He fishes for his car keys, dragging them from his pants pocket.

“I have to go get my stuff.”

“Sure. I’ll wait.” A tentative smile from you. Pretty. You were pretty, even with your slightly puffy eyes and dripping nose. Afton leans back against the brick and mortar. The door clicks shut. Thumbs hooked into suspenders. Head tipping back to admire the evening sky. Nice evening. Early spring. The perfect temperature.

The door beside him reopens. You’ve got a backpack on your shoulder. He guides you to his car. Large sedan. Roomy. Necessary when you have a family. You settle into the passenger seat. “You can put your bag in the back if you want.” Waits for you to get settled, seatbelt secured. Starts the engine. A deep rumble of sound.

Your eyes linger on his bare forearms. He’d rolled up his sleeves earlier, finally surrendering to the warmth indoors. Pink scars beneath the dark hairs. He doesn’t even notice them anymore. But of course you do. Only natural to be curious. An accident. That’s what the rumor mill generated. And it was true enough, so he’d left it at that.

William pulls up to the gas station. Too many lights. So overwhelmingly illuminated. Lit up like fucking Christmas, a beacon in the otherwise dark stretch of road. “I’ll be right back. Want anything?” You shake your head. You’re still clutching the bit of fabric he’s lent you. But the tears have ceased. Your features are dry now. He leaves the keys in the ignition, depressing the lighter before he exits. They’re out of the cartons of the brand he likes, so he settles for a couple of packs. Tosses a candy bar down. He’s never known a woman to turn down chocolate. Sees the bucket of long stemmed roses on the counter and adds that to his purchases. Crimson petals. Baby’s breath. Tightly wrapped in plastic sheeting. Hands it to you when he gets back in the car, along with the candy. You’re hesitating again, tentatively reaching for this latest offering.

“You’ve had a shitty night. You deserve a treat.” Maybe he shouldn’t use profanity in front of you. You look a little wide eyed.

“Apologies. I tend to have a bit of a potty mouth when it’s this late. It’s been a long day.”

“It’s okay.” You glance down at your gifts. “You didn’t have to do this. Thank you.”

The older man nods, pulling on the bit of plastic to unwind the top casing of one of the packs of cigarettes. Cranks the drivers side window down partially and sits a cigarette between his teeth before pressing the glowing ring of the lighter to the tip of the paper wrapping. A grateful inhale and exhale aimed towards the open window. He replaced the lighter back in the slot and glances over at you. “Another bad habit. I try not indulge too often but…” A sort of apology. You shrug.

“My boy—my ex never got me anything.” You’re still looking at his purchases now resting on your lap.

He grunts. “How long were you together?”

“Almost six months.”

He shakes his head, taking another drag. “I think he’s probably done you a favor by leaving, even if it doesn’t seem like it right now. Doesn’t know how to treat a lady. Immature punk didn’t deserve you in the first place.” Said a bit vehemently. “You can do better.”

You don’t look entirely convinced, but that’s to be expected. You’re young, yet. You’ll learn.

“You ready to go?”

You nod. You live close by. Simple directions. Barely enough time to finish his cigarette. He pulls into your driveway, reaching over the seat to retrieve your backpack. You unzip it and tuck the rose and chocolate inside carefully. The plum handkerchief still resting on your thighs, carefully refolded so that your bodily fluids are discretely secured in the innermost portions.

“Just leave it there.” You follow his instructions, dropping it into the cupholder.

“Thanks for the ride, Mr. Afton. And…everything else.”

“My pleasure.”

Afton waits until he sees you’ve made it safely into the house. Withdraws a second cigarette from the pack before he shifts the vehicle into reverse. Another hasty shove at the lighter to heat the coil. Glancing over at the now vacant seat you’d occupied. Funny how he’d never really noticed you before tonight. He’s not even certain where you work. The prize counter, maybe? He’s trying to recall seeing you on the cameras in his office. Still uncertain. Lights the cigarette and inhales deeply. Smoke clouding the car. Back in the rear parking lot behind the pizzeria. The last of the dose of nicotine consumed. Still remaining seated.

Thinking.

***

Time heals all wounds. Or so they say.

William isn’t certain he agrees with that sentiment, but in your case it seems to be holding true. He’d been correct. You do work the prize counter. Collecting tickets and distributing trinkets to the customers. The solemn line of your lips curving more easily into a smile now that several weeks have passed. Your movements lighter, less burdened. He watches you in person. On the cameras in the privacy of his office. And it’s not just your features he’s admiring now, either. The black work pants cling to your ass when you bend over. Sometimes he’s lucky enough to view you coming through the employee entrance still in your school uniform. Plaid skirt. Blouse and jumper. Knee high socks. His mouth waters. He shouldn’t be looking. But he can’t stop now that he’s started.

It’s been a long while since Afton’s jerked off. Trying to get his wife to surrender even for a brief session but she’s still uninterested. His pent up desire is taking its toll. He needs release. He could just stroke to some porn. Easy enough to pull it up on his computer, especially at work, where no one else has access and he can do as he likes without fear of someone seeing his browsing history. But he doesn’t want to watch some actress pretending. Even the alleged amateurs feel scripted and staged and unnatural. And he doesn’t really need any of that anyway, does he? Because there you are. Onscreen. Real. Vibrant. He makes certain his office door is locked. Eases suspender straps over his shoulders. Thumbs open the button of his fly and drags the zipper down. Shoving the hem of his dress shirt out of the way. Was he really doing this? Jerking off to one of his teenage, barely legal employees? Apparently so. Because his cock is already fully erect and in his hand. The gnawing guilt suppressed by his unsated lust. Is this what he’s become? Dirty, perverted old man, he scolds himself silently. But his dick doesn’t care. It’s already drooling at the sight of you. Precum making his fingers glide over the glans, smearing over that delicate underside. He can’t remember the last time he’d been this level of aroused. Maybe the night he’d made his last son. That thought might have stopped him right there, but his mind knows how to twist that idea back away from his wife and family to you. Imagines breeding you. Filling you up. He’s willing to bet you’re a virgin. He doubts that loser you’d dated had ever gotten you off. How he’d love to try his hand. His mouth. Impale you on this fat prick of his. That plush ass riding him. Inhaling sharply through his nostrils, his body automatically moving to the edge of the desk where the monitors are stacked. Pumping faster, his cock sliding in and out of digits that form a tight ring, then loosen and caress the head. Over and over. Pushing into those pretty pink lips of yours. The ones he can view right now. The ones he can’t. His balls tight. Building pressure. He’s going to do it. You’re going to make him.

Cum shooting across the scant space between his cock and the screen. Spraying over it. Over the image of your body. His free hand grasping the edge of the desk. Fuck. So much jizz. He’d waited too long. He should do this more often.

Should he do this more often? This or…

Cleaning the glass. Wiping whatever was left off his cock, his hands. The handkerchief seeing use again. He reaches for the smoke alarm, dragging the nine volt battery out if its compartment to disable it. Sits heavily in the swivel chair behind the desk and lights a cigarette.

Thinking again of you. Impure thoughts. So many.

***

William’s waiting for you by the employee entrance when you arrive after school the next day. You smile and greet him, already moving to the restroom to get changed when he halts you, his hand heavy on your arm.

“I’ve been going through the employee files and I’ve just realized you’ve never completed the training videos.”

“Oh. Well, I mean, there’s not much to running the prize counter. I think I’m good.”

He doesn’t remove his hand. “They’re not that kind of training video. More like…what to do in an emergency situation. Fire safety. Disaster protocols. That sort of thing.”

“Oh.” Another little breath of sound. “So, is it something I can watch at home? Like a video?”

“Afraid not. Company property and policy wouldn’t allow it. I’m supposed to supervise the viewing. There’s a written exam portion as well.”

“So when can I view it, then?”

“I’ve got someone covering the counter. You can get it over with right now.”

“Okay.” Is there a flicker of doubt in your eyes? Maybe. But you still trust him. He’d never given you reason not to. He’s never been anything but kind to you, after all. “I’ll just go get changed. Where am I going to watch it?”

Afton wishes there was an excuse for you to remain in your skirt. But there really isn’t any that he can readily think of. “My office.”

The doubt a little more visible this time. “Are there a lot of people that got missed?”

“A few. But they’re not on today. It’ll just be you and I.” A smile that is less than savory. He can’t help himself. He really can’t. “I’ll be waiting in my office.”

You change quickly. You’ve never had a reason to be in his office before. He sees you looking around the space. Noting the only chair is the one the owner is seated in. The stacks of monitors. The television and VCR on the wheeled cart positioned within view from his chair.

“Shut the door. The noise, you know.” So innocently explained. Such a lie.

You do so, walking uncertainly towards his desk. “Should I go get a chair or…”

“Not at all. Have a seat.” The older man pats his thigh.

Openly skeptical now. “I don’t think that’s appropriate.”

“Nonsense. It’s not going to be for long, anyway.”

“I’ll just stand.”

“You’ll sit.” A dark edge to his tone now. His teeth flash in a mock consulatory grin. “Nothing bad is going to happen, I promise.”

He sees your throat shift to accommodate the thick wash of saliva you’re shoving down. So nervous. He imagines you heartbeat is quite rapid, like his own. Moving reluctantly. Barely touching him, hovering, really. “Relax, get comfortable.” As if being perched on your employer’s thigh was such. Your legs are tightly tucked together until he shifts and they spread over his leg, close to his knee, one hand splayed across your front to stabilize you. Fingers just shy of anything dangerous. Merely spread over your waist and stomach. The television screen illuminated when he thumbs the remote with his unoccupied hand. There actually was a safety training video; he hadn’t been lying about that.

You’re so tense against him, your spine ramrod straight. His cock is already hardening but it’s you he devotes his attention to. Lifting his leg ever so subtly. Your crotch warm against him. The faintest response back. Your thighs tightening. Clutching him. Perhaps feeling the seam of your pants pressing against your clit. The volume of the television is low, barely audible. He’d heard you’d reconciled with that boy again. Lesson apparently not learned. And he’d cheated. This time you’d been the one to leave. He imagines you feel hurt and betrayed. Unsatisfied. Still searching for something you keep being denied. Why not get a little revenge? Anyone can forgive a rapid rebound. He’s murmuring these things to you now. His free hand squeezing your thigh, just shy of your crotch. Your body tightening around him again. The grinding motion unmistakable. You want it. You want him. So feverish against his thigh. Damp now. Your arousal saturating your panties, your work slacks, straight through to his own. His cock screaming for attention, straining against the zipper. Not yet. As much as he’d love to just ruin you right now, he’s going to wait. Make you want it even more.

Your fingers close over the ones still draped over your thigh. William squeezes them. Whispers somewhere along your back, near your shoulder. “Good girl, you’re such a good girl, so beautiful…” A needy sound escapes your throat. “That’s it, sweetheart. Cum for me, let go…”

Your body shakes violently against him. You’re louder than he’d anticipated. Perhaps he should have locked the door. Now rag doll limp against him. Panting. Maybe not the first time you’d ever climaxed, but your first time getting off with someone else. Using him. So wonton. It’s going to take him absolutely no time at all to spill his seed after this little session. The video has ended, the screen now a solid state of blue.

You seem to have recovered. Sliding free. A definitely wet spot on his trousers. Your cheeks flaming red when you see that mark of debauchery. Flicking to his crotch. He can hardly blame you. He’s larger than average and it’s certainly demanding attention. You look hurriedly away.

“You can go now. You’re all set.” Your boss shuts the television off, standing to push the cart back to the side of the room.

You’re staring. Mouth open. Breathing still a little haggard. “What about the exam?”

“You’ve passed. I’ll be sure to mark it down in your file. Shut the door on your way back out, please.” You seem confused by his sudden dismissal. That’s to be expected. It’s just as far as he’s willing to take it right now. The start of your descent with him. Leaving innocence behind.

As soon as you’re gone his cock is in his hands. Afton’s staring at the wet stain you’ve placed on him. Another orgasm that leaves him breathless and cursing.

***

The restaurant closes for the evening. William’s car is in the shop. An unfortunate break down on the way to work. His business partner has conveniently chosen that day to visit, only too happy to offer a ride, the man’s wife in the passenger seat after Afton volunteers to sit in the back with a fellow employee who also needs a ride.

You, of course.

You’re seated close to the door, as if you’re ready to bolt from the vehicle at any moment. No one in the front of the car is paying you any mind. Conversing with each other, with the pizzeria owner. Talking and laughing. William’s left hand is stealthily unfastening the front of your pants. A quick, panicked look from you that he senses rather than sees in the near darkness. Fingers deftly dipping beneath the elastic waistband of your panties. His first time touching you like this. A little gasp that goes unheard beneath the layers of talk. Of course you’re already slick. He’s circling your clit. Feels you moving, perhaps involuntarily, perhaps not. Trying to get him deeper, further down. But he’s not violating you tonight. His middle finger rests beside the nub and begins rotating it against the bone beneath. Another gasp, this one much louder. His lips by your ear, laid along the nest of your fragrant hair. “You’re going to need to be quiet when you cum this time, love.”

William’s name is uttered from the front of the vehicle. He’s lost the thread of conversation. Apologizes and resumes the discussion. You rest your elbow on the narrow shelf of padding at the top of the door, curled fingers in your mouth, your teeth clutching your index finger. Your employer quickens his pace. Feels the tremors beginning. He can only imagine how tightly you’re biting down to keep silent. Relentlessly fondling your hooded button. Your thighs squeezing together, trapping his hand when you explode. He persists in fondling you until he’s certain he’s wrung you out. Finally withdraws, leaving you to refasten your pants. You’ve arrived at your destination. You murmur a quick thanks to the driver. Your eyes find Afton’s. “See you tomorrow,” he says cheerfully. The fingers that have touched you between your legs are brought to his lips. Long tongue curling around them. Eyes rolling back in rapture at the taste of you. You escape indoors, safe from him for tonight.

Tomorrow will be a different story.

***

On Friday and Saturday evenings, the pizzeria is open for an additional hour, but that often gets pushed closer to two. Midnight. Witching hour. The final stragglers finally exiting the building.

You’re locking the cabinets at the prize counter, ready to depart too.

William makes his way to you in such a way that it looks casual. Unintentional. Just heading in that direction, past staff that are scurrying to finish clearing the tables. “Don’t go anywhere.” Low under his breath. You have that look of going tharn. Deer frozen in headlights. Frightened little rabbit. He strides away. Assists with the last of the clean up. Whatever it takes to get people to leave faster so he can be alone with you.

Front and rear door closed and locked. Lights dimmed. It’s just you and Afton now.

Casually lifting a chair from beneath one of the tables. Red vinyl padded seat cushion. Twining curls of dark stained wood for the back support. He sets it at one end of the prize counter. You’re still behind it. Had been fussing with things, making yourself look busy if anyone happened to be curious as to why you were delaying.

He rounds the corner and approaches. Advancing towards you. Sees you retreat until you bump against the glass casing. “I heard you’ve reconciled with that boy again.” His voice low. Disapproving.

You blink, swallowing nervously. “He said he was sorry. He’s been doing better.”

“You think he meant it? Better how? Is he buying you things? Taking you to nice places?”

“No, but—”

“Is he satisfying you? Making you cum?” You flush. A little gasp. Still a virgin, then. Afton inwardly sighs with relief. “Well? I’m waiting for an answer.”

“No.”

“I thought not.” He unfastens the button of your fly and roughly drags the zipper down. “Do you think you deserve to be touched? After you keep going behind my back with this boy? I guarantee you he’s not faithful. Once a cheater, always a cheater.”

“You’re a cheater, too,” you mumble.

The hand reaching for your panties freezes. “Only because my wife won’t go near me. So it’s come to this. And I hardly,” he jerks your underwear and pants down over your hips in one go, “think you’re in any position to pass judgment on someone who’s your elder.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Afton.”

He grunts. “Are you, though? I wonder. Take all of this off.” He steps back, looking at you expectantly.

“What, like everything?”

“Yes, like everything. Not a stitch on.”

He sees you hesitate and scowls. “You’re disappointing me,” he warns.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur hastily. He watches as you pull your shirt with the restaurant logo over your head and set it on the counter. Unhook your bra and shyly slide the straps over your shoulders. Finish removing the garments covering the lower half of your body after unlacing canvas sneakers and pulling off your ankle socks. Completely nude now. His eyes roving over you appreciatively.

“Let’s get you up on the counter here.” He has to assist you, hands at your waist, lifting you to sit on the glass surface. You’re avoiding his gaze. “What is it about that boy you like so much?”

You shrug uncomfortably. “He loves me.”

“He says he loves you,” William corrects. “What else?”

“He kisses me.”

A feral grin. “Is that what you want? Someone to lie to you and tell you they love you? Do you imagine a teenager fumbling at your mouth is better than an adult, experienced man?” Another shrug. “Look at me. Look at me,” he repeats, gripping your chin and turning your face to his. “I will only say this once. He is nothing. You will leave him again, and you will not go back.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because you are mine. If you do not comply, I’ll be forced to take more…drastic measures. Understood? Don’t make me repeat myself. Answer me when I speak to you.”

“Yes, Mr. Afton.”

“Good girl. Now that that unpleasantness is sorted, we can turn to other matters. I’m willing to bet that pussy of yours is already drooling all over that counter you’re sitting on. Shall I check? Or maybe just…” He grabs your legs, lifting them up and then dragging you until you’re near the edge of the cabinet. Your skin squeaks against the glass. “Lie back.”

You’re shivering. He runs his hands over your thighs. “Relax. You’re going to enjoy this, I promise you. Having a real man take care of you.” His hand heavy on the back of your neck. “You want a real kiss?” You nod. He smirks. “Open your legs.” A slight parting. “No, that won’t do. Spread them the way you do when you touch yourself and you think about me. Don’t look so surprised. I know that’s what you do. Maybe as soon as you get home from work. Rushing up to your room claiming you’re tired, you have homework. But that’s not it, is it?” His fingers snake along the inside of one thigh. “Rubbing your clit and wondering when the next time I’m going to touch you will be. I don’t even need to touch you for you to come, though, do I? Just sitting on my lap was enough. Debasing yourself like some cheap whore. Open your fucking legs.” The teasing tone abandoned, the last sentence uttered through gritted teeth. You hastily comply. He slumps into the chair, hands cupping your hips and dragging you still closer until you’re barely on the edge. Tongue darting out to stroke along your inner labia, parting them, scooping up the fluids pooling at your entrance, dragging up to your clit. Your back arches off the counter and you whimper, your thighs reflexively trying to clamp together but he’s holding you open now. There’s no escaping his mouth. And now that he’s had a taste of you, he’s not going to stop.

“You’re soaked. That ripe cunt is begging for it.” Sucking the bundle of nerve endings. Lewd sounds when his tongue flicks across your flesh. Around and between the pink petals, darting lower, then moving back up to tease the swelling hooded area. All too soon he can sense your orgasm building and he retreats, the strokes of muscle less rapid, less firm. Soft brushes of his lips. Kisses along the inside of your thighs. On your mound. You’re brave enough to seed your fingers in his hair. Pulling him more firmly against your pussy. “You want to cum? You think you deserve it?”

“Please, Mr. Afton…”

You sounded so needy. So eager. Whining. Begging. It’s music to his ears. He continues teasing you. Prolonging. Bringing you to the brink and then dragging you back from the edge. Over and over. The muscles in your legs tremoring violently. The forearm that extends so you can clutch his hair held taut. Your neck craning up to watch what he’s doing before dropping back down, thudding loudly against the glass. Shifting the contents below, the cheap toys in the bins jostling together. Stuffed animals taking a tumble. His tongue fucks your opening. Mouth closing over your clit now. Sucking hard. Relentless this time. You’re keening. Pulling his hair, mashing him against you even tighter.

“Mr. Afton…oh my God, I’m cumming, oh fuck...” Now there’s a word he hasn’t anticipated you uttering. Sullied so easily. Not so pure now, and he’s only just begun your lessons in corruption.

William releases your trembling thighs and rises from the chair. He could eat your delicious cunt all night and be perfectly content but he knows you have to return home soon. Parents expecting you and all that. So he’s going to make his own release quick. You don’t even need to lift a finger. Just lying there like a blank canvas waiting to be painted. Jerking off right in front of your flushed sex. Spilling white over the pink. He wishes it was inside of you. He’s halfway tempted to scoop it up and feed it to that ravenous pussy of yours. Shove coated fingers deep inside you. That urge to breed you surging through him. He misses it. Swollen belly and milk filled tits. Fuck. A few last pumps and he’s finally drained.

When you’ve both recovered, he helps you down from the counter. The glass a streaked mess. He sees you looking at it. Waves a hand in the air. “Don’t concern yourself with that. Go get cleaned up.” You gather your clothes. Disappear to the nearest restroom. Afton grabs a bottle of spray ammonia and a roll of paper towels from the nearby cabinet, scrubbing until the surface is crystal clear. Decides the interior can be straightened out tomorrow. Returns the chair to its proper place and ensures he’s all put together again. Shirt tucked neatly. Pants fastened. Suspenders and bowtie in place. Hair smoothed back into place, face cleared of any of your residual fluids. Again, not that anyone at home would notice. He doesn’t really know why he’s bothering.

You’re standing by the rear exit. Your boss is surprised, thinking you might already have left. Waiting for permission, maybe. He nods and you reach for the handle. “Wait.” You turn back to face him. Looking a little wary. Wondering what else he’ll demand of you tonight.

Fingers tucking under your chin, lifting it. His lips brushing yours. You’re tense at first. Then relax. Melting. His tongue parts your lips, licking you open. A soft moan that he echoes. He likes this. He should have kissed you sooner. His cock stirring again. He wishes there was more time. He wonders what you think of the taste of yourself. If you’ve already sampled the honey from that nether region, out of curiousity, of lust.

“Goodnight,” William says roughly.

Do you seem a little reluctant to part? Or is he imagining it? “Goodnight, Mr. Afton.”

Then you’re through the door. Gone. He locks it behind himself. Walking to the only car left in the parking lot, yours already departed. Lighting a cigarette before he leaves. Nicotine laced with your nectar heavy on his tongue.

#william afton x reader #william afton x you #dividers credit @ saradikagraphics

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multiwreckedmess · 1 year

Text

February Filth Fest - Day 3

Pairing: Felix x fem!reader Kink: Uniform WC: 2k Summary: Cast in a coming of age rom-com drama with a handsome costar who could blame either of you for taking full advantage of all the perks of being young, hot, and together nearly 24/7 for a month TW/CW: School girl uniform, fluffy sex?, unprotected sex, cumming inside, possessive Felix, light praise(m receiving), light degradation (f receiving), NO obvious power dynamics.

As per usual this is fiction it doesn’t represent Felix or stray kids. As a work of fiction it should not be used as a guide for anyone. These are characters. Please minors I can’t control what you do on the internet just know this is content meant for adults so by clicking on “keep reading” you are saying you are 18+. At the very least please respect my boundary and DO NOT INTERACT.

You hadn’t expected to fall so thoroughly for your costar Felix Lee. Yes he was handsome, yes he had an accent to die for, yes he was talented, and of course yes you had natural chemistry with him. The chemistry got you hired as a virtually unknown talent. So really you shouldn’t have been shocked to find yourself in stupid puppy love with him.

Felix was naturally flirty. It was his charm and charisma that you were feeling from him. Even as he smiled, freckles slowly being concealed by the makeup artist, and suggested you practice the on screen kiss later, “some time after work.” You didn’t really understand what he was suggesting. Blind to his advances, blind to the knowing looks from those around you, blind even to the steady praise the two of you received as a couple. Blind until you were practicing lines in your trailer and the ‘small peck’ the ‘characters’ were supposed to share turned into a dry humping session to rival those you had with your high school ex.

The costumers had approached you afterwards, stone faced and calm. “Please try not to leave your uniform skirt on the floor. The fabric tends to wrinkle and as it is pleated it requires additional maintenance.” You blushed profusely, dropping your head down in half acknowledgement, half apology, but mostly to hide the small grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. You didn’t look up even as you heard the click of your trailer door, not until it reopened with Felix entering only after three polite but firm knocks. “They talk to you too?” He cocked his eyebrow mischievously. “Yeah do you think,” you trail off in horror, “no I know they know what we did. Oh my god.” “Of course they know!” Felix laughs. “I came in my pants. They told me,” he pulls his face from his bright smile into a dower serious frown, “please refrain from those sorts of activities with this particular fabric. It both stains and wrinkles easily. While we appreciate your attempts to treat the fabric we’d appreciate it more if you would simply warn us as further attempts may cause damage,” he imitates their solemn even tone. He looks for your laughter, your gentle easy smile, or even a slight twinkle in your eye. Instead he find you raking your fingers nervously through your hair, gazing into the distance between you. It only takes two motivated strides for him to cradle you in his arms, kissing the tip of your nose gently. “It’s fine, we just won’t wear them next time.” He grins devilishly and wiggles his eyebrows. “Next time? Easy for you to say, you’ve probably done this tens, no, hundreds of times.” Your voice quivers in distress. Hot tears threaten to bubble over your lash line and ruin your makeup. “For your information, I have never dated a costar. I’ve never even slept with a costar. Just you. Only you.”

From that day forward you were more bold with him but still shy in front of the rest of the cast and crew. Something about the vaguely hidden nature of your relationship made each moment feel more electric. Each kiss could possibly invite more questions. Even the kisses you were hired to do felt voyeuristic. Not that either of you would’ve minded much if you got caught. It just prolonged the thrill of the affair.

You had noticed something in all these trysts. Something you wanted to explore.

“What is it about this that gets you off?” You ask as your trailer door slammed shut behind Felix who tilts his head in momentary shock. “About…this?” His eyebrows knit in confusion. “About dating you?” You purse your lips and roll your eyes dramatically. “You really haven’t noticed, have you.” Felix carefully looks you up and down, circling around you, trying to spot whatever you are trying to hint at. “You fuck me harder when i wear this. Dummy.” You gesture at your costume. Your school uniform. Obviously stylized for the show but a school uniform nonetheless. He squeezes one eye shut, thinking over the question, “really? I don’t think so. I mean I’m used to seeing uniforms like that, I’m a Catholic school kid after all.” Your mouth drops, perhaps over-dramatically, small demonic sparks lighting your eyes as the cogs in your brain whir. “You have a school girl kink don’t you.” “I do not.” He rolls his eyes. “Oh c’mon Felix,” you grin, lifting the hem of your skirt just a little higher, just barely exposing a bit more of your thigh. “School girl kinks are so common. Besides, you never wanted to have a quickie in the confessional booth with some cute bubbly thing? You seem to just adore sneaking off set with me. And these uniform skirts are so accessible,” you let yourself trail off in a mock daze, still grinning cheekily at him. “No,” he whines, thick Australian accent chewing through each elongated vowel. “I swear! Calling it a school girl kink is…” he shivers involuntarily. “I’m too old, it feels…” he opens his mouth uselessly, transitioning back and forth from biting his lower lip to stretching out his tongue in over-exaggerated disgust. “I don’t want to talk ‘morals and values’ when I can see the outline of your dick in your pants.” You giggle as you approach him, pressing chest to chest. “Shame costumes will kill me if I wrinkle this, you look so adorable when you’re flustered.” Felix gulps, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He could feel the break clock ticking as his pants grew tighter at his crotch. Licking his lips thirstily he gives into your teasing easily. “Your ass just looks so good in that skirt, god I just wanna,” he groans, wrapping his arms around your waist, cock pointedly throbbing at your thigh. Reaching under your skirt he grabs a handful of your ass, eyebrows shooting up as his palm touches your bare skin. “No underwear? Since when?” “Since the director announced a fifteen.” You smile coyly. “Which was about…I don’t know how long…and really,” you huff, “if costumes would kill me for a wrinkle I don’t know what they’d do when you got through with me.” You bat your eyelashes, smile fully breaking into a devious grin. “I’d really hate to find out.” Felix is already buried in your neck, making marks that you’d have to tip the makeup artists extra for. “Such a fucking tease,” he groans as his hands grope eagerly at your ass. “Working me up like this then blaming the poor costumes department. Did they tell you to take your panties off too?” “Hm, what do your deductive skills tell you, my smart boy?” “That you want me to fuck you in this skirt over the arm of the couch over there,” he snarls in your ear, biting the lobe and gently tugging, wanting to hear your gasp. “Good boy,” you coo.

Felix doesn’t use his strength often. So it comes as a shock when he nearly picks you up and places you ass up, draped over the arm of the small couch in the corner of your trailer. It sends a rush of heat straight to your gut. Heart pounding he knows the two of you don’t have much time left in your break and coming back too late and together would look unprofessional for the both of you. However the way the pleats of the skirt slope over the cleft of your ass to splay just a little looser outwards has his judgment clouded. Adding to the haze is the cute half-giggle-half-squeaks you make as he knocks your legs apart. Palms at the back of your thighs he takes his time with the reveal, pushing the hem of your skirt up, teasing himself almost as much as he teased you. Wet cunt exposed to the cool air, Felix relishes in the heat of your sex as he pushes two fingers in to prep you. “I’d have gotten in so much more trouble if you were around.”

You moan at the intrusion, back arching naturally with the slow slide of him stretching you. “Felix,” you whine, “please, quick please.”

He shushes you with a quick laugh, “fine, my love, if you’re so eager, who am I to say no?”

Presented to him lewdly over the back of the couch you hear the telltale click of his buckle hitting the floor, suspicions quickly confirmed as the warmth of his member replaces his fingers at your core. Working the head along your slit to gather your essence he is accepted easily as he pushes past your entrance. He huffs, sheathed fully as your walls flutter around him, adjusting to the significantly tighter stretch. Part of him wishes he could see your face as he fills you, the crinkle of your nose, the slaking of your jaw, all painting a portrait of ecstasy that he wanted to memorize. The other part of him loved watching your pussy accommodate him, ass jiggling as you wiggle your hips happily.

“You really never fucked a classmate before?”

“No one like you at my school.” The cute sentiment is punctuated by a slap to your ass, “We’d have gotten in so much trouble.”

The first slow drag of his cock has your eyes rolling back in your head. Felix smiles to himself, your small involuntary sigh is music to his ears.

“We?” Your question ends in a high pitched squeak as he thrusts all the way to the hilt inside of you.

Felix speeds up, bony hips snapping into your pert ass, corner of his lower lip caught in concentration between his teeth. As much as he wants to savor each and every time he fucks you, there is something thrilling about a deadline to make the both of you cum. He grunts, wrapping his arm across your chest and pulling you up into his embrace. Back bowing out from him in a deep arch your hands claw at the armrest for support.

“Yeah, bet you’d roll your skirt up just past regulation length just so all the boys would see your cute cotton panties when you sat. Such a hot little tease. Have to fuck you in the boys room so they’d know to stay the fuck away. Gotta have you screaming my name so everyone would know you’re mine, the fucking perverts.” Felix muses between grunts. Each bump of his hips into yours rubs your pelvis against the smooth leather of the couch putting just enough pressure to stimulate you, your combined bodily fluids providing enough slip for it to not pull at your skin. You shudder in his arms, pressure building everywhere, head back on his shoulder.

“Felix, I’m gonna-” your body tries to jerk forward as your walls clench around him; however he grabs you tighter to him as your thighs shake. Several pointed thrusts into your squishy spot inside sends you over the edge. Once again in a feat of strength he controls your wildly writhing frame as your climax milks him of his. Walls fluttering and covering him in your essence he repays the favor shooting deep within you, pulsing pressed flush to your entrance. Gulping and gasping you feel at ease, melting into his chest. He pants, breath fanning against your neck, droplets of condensation forming from the heat of his exhales. He stays in you, even thrusting back up as he feels himself slip from you to prolong the sensation. Hands squeezing and rocking side to side with you in a state of bliss.

Three sharp wraps at the trailer door shatter the mood. Both of you stand frozen, still tangled together, despite your skirt providing some coverage Felix’s discarded trousers would be a dead giveaway to your activities…if the person hadn’t already heard them. “Five! Back in Five!” “Thank you five!” The two of you respond in chorus. Felix’s hand flies to his mouth, looking bug eyed at each other.

“Shit.”

#felix smut #felix stray kids smut #february filth fest #stray kids smut #skz smut #felix lee smut #lee felix smut

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nicromancytarot · 14 days

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BLOODIED BANDAID TAROT GAME FINALE

Hi my potato tots,

I have made the decision to close the bloodied bandaid tarot game, I completed 10 readings, which is frustratingly 20 away from what I had initially planned.

I didn’t quite understand how dark some of these topics and energies would be, and even with extra protection, it’s been weighing on me heavily and I’ve been very burnt out since beginning. So I’m going to stop it here, thanks to all who participated. I’m still waiting on 3 & 9 for your feedback, please get that to me as soon as possible, so you can participate in other games in the future.

As I had no intention of ending the game so soon, I do want to give everyone who missed out the opportunity to receive a reading from me, so I am reopening my free personal readings, it won’t be lengthy, but I’ll try to give you as much information as I can.

Put your question in the ask box, please be following me, I’ll get to it as soon as possible.

If you ask 18+ questions, please ensure you put your age. (I am not responsible if anyone lies about their age)

So sorry for the inconvenience, however I hope that can make up for it.

#tarot #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #free tarot #tarot witch #tarot reading #tarot cards #pick a card #pick a pile #tarot game

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cuubism · 1 year

Note

I heard that old scars can sometimes re-open and I've no idea how true that is but it is sure does have a great angst potential for our boy Dream and his scars where his wings used to be

i'm so glad we've collectively decided to make dream's wings as a concept as maximally angsty as possible

i have no idea if that's true either, i know scar tissue can hurt sometimes after healing and be weaker than regular skin, and i know it can also be numb i.e. have disrupted nerve endings, no idea if it can properly reopen. however, dream's wing scars are more metaphysical than physical, since he doesn't properly have a physical form at all, the very concept of the wings was torn from his being, so we can absolutely play with this.

(this doesn't quite align with the internal canon of the other ficlet. but ah well)

(content warning again for graphic violence)

Dream had not been strictly truthful with Hob when he said that no one in this age, outside of his own family, knew of his wings, or their loss.

It was merely true that he had not chosen to show anyone. But there had been a time recently when Dream did not have much choice in anything at all.

****

It was inevitable that Roderick Burgess would figure out the origins of Dream's scars. The man was a fool, but he was no idiot. He could put together basic evidence in front of him.

“Strange,” he said, a few months in, as Dream still refused to give him anything he asked for or even to speak a word, “for an entity such as yourself to have such a human thing as scars.”

Dream merely glared at him. It was the first time anyone had spoken of, or even seen, the remnants of his wings in hundreds of years. Even Death had given up on mentioning it. Hearing the words spoken aloud made phantom pain arc up his back, but he kept his expression set, not giving Burgess an inch.

“They were wings, weren’t they?” Burgess said, and Dream just barely contained his flinch. “Too conveniently placed not to be. Curious. I’ve never heard of any dream lord having wings. Then again, you aren’t in too many storybooks, are you, Dream of the Endless?”

Dream featured in a few human stories. But none captured the whole of him.

“What happened to them?” Burgess asked, with idle curiosity.

He couldn’t possibly believe Dream would answer. Dream maintained his glare, and Burgess just chuckled.

“Of course, you won’t tell. I wouldn’t reveal a weakness, either. But perhaps I will be able to find out elsewhere.” His cane tapped the floor, considering. “It would be good to know what can carve off a piece of you.”

Dream clenched his jaw, the indignity of it all rushing through him in a flash of heat. The audacity of this human to think he could harm an Endless like so.

Then again, Dream had thought the same during that great battle. And he had learned.

He was still bound, here. Trapped, in this flesh.

Would it be worse, he wondered, to still have wings and be caged? Or to be as he was now, bound and having his injury, his weakness, gawked at?

“We’ll speak again, soon,” Burgess said, and then he was gone.

Dream remained, as he was forced to. Back aching, shoulders throbbing, stiff in the cold basement. He could almost feel the phantom arc of his wings over him. A torturous memory. He could picture them, folded tight in this sphere, unable to stretch out.

No, he thought, that pain would still be preferable to not having them at all.

****

Burgess returned, of course, came every day to stalk around Dream’s cage, demanding things of him. Dream resolutely turned to face him, shielding his wounded back from the man’s eyes. Depriving him of his ability to gloat. It did occasionally mean he had to bare his scars to the guards sitting by the doorway, but they were inconsequential compared to his captor. He would offer Roderick Burgess no satisfaction.

“I confess,” Burgess said, walking slowly, cane tapping, “that even when you are making things unnecessarily difficult, you inspire curiosity. I will get that story out of you, Dream. If you give me nothing else.”

You will not, Dream thought. All he had now was his silence and secrets.

“Perhaps I should drag you out of there and see what I can learn up close,” Burgess mused. The thought made rage curl in Dream’s belly. He thought that Burgess was too frightened of him to dare touch him. But his punishment when Dream got out would be one hundred-fold if he did. And he had already earned himself agony.

“Consider what ending you’d prefer,” Burgess said, and left him again.

****

Nobody had thought of Dream with wings in an age. The Old Gods had stripped them of his mythology when they’d stripped them from his body. Even when Dream occasionally featured in human stories, as a minor god or as the Sandman or some other strange figure, he did not have wings, he did not fly, it was beyond the reach of human imagining.

Except.

In seeing the scars on Dream’s back, in considering, over and over, with such fervor, Dream’s history, the flight he might have once been capable of— Roderick Burgess was imagining.

One dreamer could not change Dream. A thousand dreamers could not bring Dream’s wings back to him, that time was done now, he knew it as deeply as he knew the pain that lived within him.

Except, apparently, when his powers were bound. Except when Burgess held his ruby, the very essence of Dream’s form. Except when the man wished him such ill that no torment was beyond the reach of his imagination.

It happened not gradually, but suddenly. Burgess was speaking to him one day, musing again about what horrible thing might have happened to Dream’s wings, and Dream was tuning him out, staring into space, when a lightning bolt of pained raced up his spine, flared through his shoulders, swirled in spiked agony in his head—

Dream bent double, a cry of anguish torn from his throat. The first sound he had made since his imprisonment. Burgess froze and stared at him, his cane hovering above the cobblestones.

Dream clasped his hands over his ears where a rising whine was reaching a fever pitch, becoming a scream. A matching shriek building in his own throat that he desperately tried to suppress. He’d rather choke than let his captor hear anything else, but his back was in flames, it felt as though it was tearing apart anew, like something was wrenching from within him—

“Well,” said Burgess, and for the first time, the man sounded faint with shock. “Look at that.”

Breathing raggedly, but getting no air for his tight chest in the sealed sphere, limbs trembling, Dream dared a look over his shoulder. Shuddering at what he might find.

Yes, indeed, there were wings again arcing over his shoulders, folded double under the glass. Pulled from Dream, forced on him, by Roderick Burgess’s imaginings. And no, no, these wings were wrong, they were horrible and monstrous, like a demon’s, taloned and webbed and bent at unnatural angles. Dream’s wings had been beautiful, feathers dark and fine as the night sky.

But Burgess saw him as a monster, and a monster’s body was what he gave him.

Blood streamed down Dream’s back from the jagged tears the wings had ripped in his skin. It dripped from every inch of the webbing, splattering the glass sphere, which looked like something horrible had just given birth inside of it. Even moving the wings was agonizing, and Dream stayed hunched over, face pressed to his knees, to avoid knocking them into the glass and sending a spasm of pain through himself that he might not recover from.

“Another trick of yours?” said Burgess, walking around him. Now there was nothing Dream could do to guard his back. “Hiding your powers from me?”

Dream did not look up at him, but he ripped the man cell from cell in his mind. You, he wanted to snarl, you have done this. You and your gross, possessive imaginings, feeling yourself entitled to my history. You will pay.

Under the pain, however, the wings felt insubstantial. Weak, fragile, draining the rest of his strength, unlike the power of Dream’s true wings before they had been so grossly torn from him. These wings could not fly. These wings sustained themselves on the cruel thoughts of one dreamer, and hurt Dream rather than aided him; their connection to his power was flickering, and Dream expected they would not last long.

These wings were a violation and an abomination and still, a wrenching pain went through Dream’s body at the thought of their disappearance.

But he was right. Even as Burgess watched, speaking again though Dream could not hear it over the rushing in his ears, the wings twisted up like gnarled tree branches and vanished, leaving a cold wind in their wake. And blood, and viscera, and two open wounds in Dream’s back. He collapsed forward onto his elbows, head hanging, unable to push himself back up. He had bitten the inside of his mouth hard enough that it was bleeding, and drops fell to join the growing pool at the bottom of the glass. Was it Burgess who dreamed him able to bleed? Or Dream himself?

“No!” Burgess smacked the glass with his cane, and Dream flinched. “Foul creature. You will not keep your powers from me forever.”

Dream did not bother to glare at him. He pressed his forehead to the bloody floor of the cage. His wings. His wings. Wrong though these were, it had been eons since he had even conceived of the feeling of having wings. And now, to have them ripped into existence and then gone again…

With a growl, Burgess stormed from the room, yelling at the guards, “Let me know if he does ANYTHING!”

Dream did not do anything. Dream wished for this form to go the way of his wings. To shred from the inside out and be gone.

****

Prior to his imprisonment, Dream had reached a level of equanimity when it came to other winged creatures. Once, there had been a time when he’d inflicted horrible nightmares of falling on all the dreamers of the world, burning out of control in his rage. Likewise, there had been a time when Dream, guilt-ridden, had tried to soothe that ache by sending gentle dreams of floating lightly on a warm breeze, or of soaring with powerful strokes through the skies.

But eventually, he had gained control over himself, and managed to treat winged dreams the same as any other, with no particular preference or punishment.

That was before.

Now, he was thinking about Gault. And her resplendent joy as she’d first lifted off the ground, wings fluttering with newness and light.

It should not be so. The smile of one of his creations should not make pain spike cold in his chest, make his back ache like the scar tissue was new enough to be just scabbed over. Dream was meant to be listening to his creations’ feelings. But he thought it would be easier to feel nothing at all.

It had all disappeared, when he’d escaped from the Burgess mansion. The new, bloody marks of the wings Burgess forced from his body had gone like they’d never been once Dream’s power returned. The original scars, of course, stayed, they would never go. Dream did not know what to do with this clean slate. He wondered, sometimes, if he had fallen into Delirium’s realm in his isolation, and simply hallucinated every moment of it.

He was sitting on Hob’s couch, now. He wasn’t sure exactly when, lost in his musings, he had moved to Hob’s living room. It hurt more to be in the Dreaming; he had wanted to be away from his own creations. So many years apart, and the pain of their abandonment, and now he wanted to be away from them. Truly, Death had been right. Some Endless was he.

“Dream?” Hob’s hand landed on Dream’s shoulder from behind.

Dream was Endless. Dream did not panic. And yet, he did not even feel himself move until he was already across the living room, back turned to the wall, away from Hob. Even though he knew that Hob would not hurt him. Even though he knew his own power now was such that Hob could not hurt him. Even though.

“Whoa, hey,” Hob said, hands raised in surrender. Eyes wide and startled. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I was not—” Dream started, but trailed off. The rush of instinctive flight was subsiding, and now he merely felt defeated. Pathetic.

Rather than approach him again, Hob sat down in the corner of the couch. Dream had learned, these past months, to read an invitation when Hob was offering it. So he stepped quietly back over and sat beside Hob, their thighs just barely touching.

“Did I come up behind you? Is that what did it?” Hob asked gently.

“I was lost in thought,” Dream explained. “It was not your doing.”

“Hm, but in retrospect…” Halfway through, Hob seemingly decided he didn’t want to finish that particular sentence. “What were you thinking about?”

“It matters not,” said Dream, pushing thoughts of Gault and wings back to the depths of his mind where they belonged.

“Course it matters,” said Hob. And, as if he did know what Dream had been thinking, he rested his hand on Dream’s shoulder again. Slower, this time, though. Telegraphing it.

Dream leaned into his touch. Mired in his memories, he had turned from any who might come at his unprotected back, gawk at his scars, even Hob -- but now he craved something else. Now he wanted to turn in to Hob and let Hob guard him. When Dream had told the story of those wounds, Hob had curled around him as if to shield him from further harm. Dream would seize that feeling again, endlessly, selfishly.

Hob rubbed his back, but barely got through a few motions before he was freezing, hand pressed to Dream’s shoulder blade. “Dream? Do these…” he was speaking very tentatively now. “Do these… reopen a lot?”

Through the thin fabric of Dream’s shirt, blood was weeping. It followed the path of Hob’s hand as if the wound itself was chasing his comfort.

“They never did before,” Dream said. He did not have to specify what he meant by that.

“Can I…?” Hob asked, and tugged on the hem of his shirt.

Dream inclined his head, and Hob pulled his shirt up and off, careful where it brushed the wounds. Hands on his shoulders, he turned Dream’s naked back toward him, then ran his hand down the edges of the scars, studying them silently. Dream could feel the prickle of his daydreams, his imagination, as he thought. Hob, of all people, might have the power to morph Dream’s form through his daydreams; Dream bent to his touch easily enough already.

Imagine me torn open or imagine me healed, Dream thought, only do not imagine me with wings. I do not beg, but I will beg it of you.

He could not bear to suffer that again, the promise of wings restored that were but a broken echo of their rightful magnificence.

“They aren’t actually torn,” Hob mused. “Just bleeding. Huh.” He ran a hand down over one of the scars, and for all that it did not truly hurt, merely felt numb, Dream still sensed the bleeding stop.

Powerful daydreams, indeed.

“How?” Hob said, awed.

Dream did not have the energy to explain everything to do with Roderick Burgess. He merely said, “You have dreamt it.”

“I have?”

Dream just nodded. He could attempt to explain these things properly to Hob another day. For now, Hob had managed to wash away the pain, at least temporarily, and Dream was exhausted past the capacity to deal with these emotions. The memory of his wings hung over his shoulders like a sword in a way it hadn’t since his youth.

He curled in towards Hob, and Hob’s arms went automatically around him with a little stutter of shock. He held Dream’s shoulders, the back of his head, and Dream pressed his nose into the crook of his neck.

Hob pulled Dream in, pulled him down, turned to press him between his own body and the back of the couch, yes, almost exactly as Dream had hoped he would. Too perceptive, Hob, but Dream could only be grateful for it. He let out a long, steadying breath, sinking into the warmth of Hob’s body.

“You sure nothing happened?” Hob asked, a concerned murmur.

Dream said, “Nothing of late.” And Hob held him tighter.

#its hurting dream hours again #thinking also about retired dream and how i'm pretty sure his scars would disappear if he became human (ish) and the mixed feelings #he would have about that #dream's wings #my writing #dreamling #ask #anonymous

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bericas · 3 months

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gifset commissions for e-sims for gaza

Hello! I am officially opening up a commission form to raise donations for Palestine. While I may change where these donations will go per round, for this first round, all proceeds will go to buying e-sims for Gaza through @/connectinghumanity_ on Instagram.

As this is an urgent situation, I will only be taking requests for gifsets from Teen Wolf (to be posted on bericas) or Yellowjackets (to be posted on yellowjackets-1996), as these are the shows I know the best and will be able to gif quickest.

How the commission process will work:

I hope to have multiple rounds; each round will only have 4 slots, with a minimum donation amount of 10 dollars per slot

As this is a fundraiser, I will not be limiting how many can be submitted a person, but each request you submit will have to be submitted separately and paid for separately

The commission form is set to automatically close after it receives 4 submissions; if this includes a submission I choose not to accept, I’ll delete it so the form reopens and I’ll post that a slot has been reopened

I ran a poll to decide how donating the money would work; the results of this poll is that I will collect the proceeds and then post proof of donation. This process will go something like this:

No money will be sent to me until you receive proof I’ve started giffing your request

This proof will be a screenshot of the first completed gif

After receiving this, you’ll donate a minimum of 10 dollars to my ko-fi

For this first round, for transparency and proof of legitimacy, I’ll be buying an e-sim for every two donations received and posting proof. This is because the app I’m familiar is with Holafly, where the cheapest option is $19. Going forward, I plan to donate it at once, after all 4 gifsets are completed.

Click anywhere in this sentence for a link to the commission form!

Please reblog this post to help spread the word!! Thank you!!

To make this post less overwhelming on the dash, rules for requests are below the cut!

Again, as this is a fundraiser, please keep requests as simple as possible, meaning only using footage from the source material

(ex–a rarepair with little/no screentime will be accepted if I can make use of the canon footage; a request for an au that can use canon footage may be accepted if I think I can get it done quickly enough; any using outside footage will not be accepted)

For Teen Wolf requests: I won't gif Kate Argent in general, I won't gif St*rek in general, and I won’t gif any “taboo” topics like age gaps or incest. I also won’t gif any anti-Scott content, any anti-Deaton content, or really generally anything I think has racist connotations, which should be obvious

For clarity: I will gif Derek and the teens (excluding just Derek and Stiles) as long as it’s clearly platonic/”familial” in nature!

For Yellowjackets request: again, I won’t gif “taboo” topics like age gaps or incest, but I will gif things that are clearly platonic or familial in nature

(ex–I won’t gif a romantic request for Ben/Travis, but I will gif one with platonic/familial/generally non-romantic themes)

#commissions for palestine #commissions for gaza #idk how to tag this. hiiii.#pls boost!#also if any other gifmakers are interested in doing this too pls let me know! we could take turns doing rounds or smth!#i can only produce so much myself so i would loooove for this to turn into smth bigger

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lonesome-sometimes · 1 month

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wheels on the bus

I promise I don’t have a thing for matty being a married man this was just a very real experience for me minus most of it

suddenly a man climbs on and interrupts, giving a series of apologies to both the driver and the people he kept waiting. you would be annoyed if he wasn’t so hot, tight black jumper and unruly curls sitting on his head like a halo. suddenly, the woman from before is waving him down towards the back of the bus and your heart sinks.

that’s her fucking husband?

matty healy x female reader

content warnings: face fucking, sub matty, teasing, semi-public sex, cheating, age gap

minors do not interact!

If you knew that you would be stuck on a bus for as long as you were, you wouldn’t have even bothered travelling but the world seemed to hate you that day and was throwing every possible obstacle towards you.

luckily for you, the seat next to you had managed to stay empty for most of the trip which was always a blessing. you were pulling into the second stop of the journey when you quickly realised that was about to come to an end, the queue far too long with too little seats left.

you force yourself to seem as unapproachable as possible when you feel someone tap your shoulder, turning to see a dark haired woman smiling at you almost condescendingly. you pull one side of your headphones to the side so it sits behind your ear, still looking at her dumbfounded. you weren’t in the mood, your day had been long enough.

“Is it okay if my husband sits here? he’s coming now, he just is putting our bags away but I’m going to sit in front of this seat and I want to be able to sit near him. my husband won’t be a bother-“ every word went in one ear and out of the other, the word husband suddenly becoming the worst word in the entire dictionary and the shiny diamond on her finger painfully obvious. how charming.

you nod, turning your body and sliding your headphones back on for the simple pleasure of drowning out most of the noise of the other passengers, your music staying paused. the driver stands up, a tall man who seemed far too young and cool looking to be stuck driving some bus on a saturday. “I know this situation isn’t really ideal for anybody, but I promise to speed and get you all where you need to be. please just shout at me if you need anything, my name is george and-“ suddenly a man climbs on and interrupts, giving a series of apologies to both the driver and the people he kept waiting. you would be annoyed, feeling deserving of an apology to if he wasn’t so hot, tight black jumper and unruly curls sitting on his head like a halo. you turn your attention to the woman from before, waving him down towards the back of the bus and your heart sinks.

that’s her fucking husband?

his face lights up at the sight of her, making his way down towards where the empty seat is and sliding down next to you. he shoots you a quick, kind smile before turning his full attention to his wife to your dismay, leaning over the top of her seat and stroking her hair. the whole situation was just sad really, he was far too good for her but you can see why she was so obsessed with using the word husband beforehand.

you were in for the hardest two hours of your life.

you couldn’t even focus on your music, abandoning it all together and hour into the drive in favour of hearing his hushed voice instead. he was currently resting his chin on the top of her seat, eyes crinkling as he smiled at something she said. he pushed a hand through his hair, the sleeves of his jumper pushing up slightly to reveal some tattoos on his wrists causing your eyes to widen, becoming curious as to how many tattoos he had and where.

another hour of torture goes by, the man next to you seeming to be so sickly in love that it started to make you somewhat mad. he was fully leaning around her seat now, his face close to hers as they talked quietly. you decided to just try and ignore them alltogether, reopening spotify when you hear him speak.

“radiohead? great choice! I didn’t know they were still popular with the kids these days.” you turn to see him smiling at you, not even realising he had moved and being absolutely dumbfounded that he’s suddenly speaking to you. he laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck causing you to notice the crinkles by his eyes for the first time. “god, that makes me sound so old doesn’t it? sorry I wasn’t meaning to bother you-“

“no!” you suddenly exclaim, realising how crazy you sounded. you regain your composure, side eyeing his wife who was not in her seat. he must notice your curiosity because he speaks up again. “we’re stopping for a bathroom break, the kids on board must have been pissing the driver off, do you want me to move?” he attempts to stand but you grab his wrist, pulling him back down.

“I’m good, thank you for letting me know.” you try and sound as sweet as possible, smiling softly while rubbing the soft material of his jumper between your fingertips. “you’re not bothering me at all, you’re actually the first person I’ve spoke to all day.”

he looks down at your hand on his jumper and you swear you see a blush spread across his face, a stray curl falling forward as he does. you start feeling a little lightheaded, almost letting your thoughts get the better of you. you drop his jumper, moving to push the curl back away from his face but he moves too suddenly, shaking his head to organise his thoughts.

you turn to see his wife climbing back on the bus, that condescending smile from before returning as she sees you both. they start chatting again, forcing you to return back to your petty mood and making a show of it, crossing your arms and letting your music flow through your ears. you through two minutes of karma police before you physically cannot take it anymore, pulling your headphones off and turning to the couple next to you.

“I’m so sorry if I’m overstepping, but you guys are just so cute together. how long have you been married?” you smile too wide to be genuine, voice sickly sweet as your attention focuses solely on the man. his wife leans around her seat and looks at you like you had offended her, but takes the opportunity to obsess over the word husband once more.

“well my husband and I have actually been married for about three years, is that right matty? I think so.” she smiles at him, playing with his fingers awaiting his answer. you don’t really care what she has to say, the name matty bouncing around your brain and how it would sound coming off of your tongue. he continues to look at you, completely taken back by your boldness before clearing his throat.

“yeah we erm, we have been married a while now. we actually just got back from our two year anniversary vacation, you should know that darling.” he speaks to her, almost seeming sad that she had forgotten. she just laughs, announcing that milestones mean nothing so long as she has him. you could almost feel your eyes rolling back into your head and not in the way you were imagining.

he smiles awkwardly at you. they went back to talking between themselves, your brain racing with ideas and images. you think for a little while, coming up with a truly awful plan. you had found something you wanted and with the day you were having you deserved some excitement.

you wait a few minutes, waiting for the right moment before beginning. “I’m sorry, I just need to grab my charger in my bag. I’ll just-“ you stand up, causing matty and his wife to stop talking and look up at you as you begin to climb over his legs. you silently thank the driver for suddenly going over a bump in the road, causing you to trip and fall directly into his lap.

his hands fly up out of instinct, grabbing your waist and holding you there for a moment. you can feel the bulge in his pants pressing up against you, moving so your hips grind down on him as you stand up again. “god, matty! I am so sorry! I lost my balance, I’ll just grab my charger and I’ll stop being a bother, again I’m so sorry to interrupt.” you lie through your teeth, reaching up to grab your charger out of your bag in the overhead compartment while making sure your tshirt rides up directly in front of his face, exposing your lower stomach and a strip of your lace underwear that was hidden beneath your pants. you pretend to look for your charger for a good few minutes, giving him a show as you did.

you eventually find what you were looking for, making eye contact with him as you climb back over into your seat. you bite your lip as you look down at his crotch, the bulge more prominent than before. you feel powerful, causing a married man to fold at practically nothing.

you get comfortable again, scrolling through instagram when he suddenly speaks for the first time in the last twenty minutes. “god, when did it get so fucking hot in here?” he laughs sheepishly again, pulling his jumper over his head and shoving it in his lap to cover up his problem.

granting you your wish, you could finally see the wrist tattoos from before as well as the many others. his arms were toned, covered in artwork that looked so beautiful and hot at the same time. his curls had become messy through his hands constantly playing with it and the jumper being pulled over.

the bus keeps driving for another ten minutes, the longest ten minutes of both yours and his life, before pulling in at another service station. george stands up, announcing that the bus would be here for thirty minutes and that if you weren’t back in time he would drive off and leave you, causing the kids at the front who must be driving him mad to giggle and pull faces.

matty suddenly stands up, announcing to his wife that he was running to the bathroom and to grab them both a snack, urging her to stay there. perfect.

you let him get a five minute head start before standing up, not even acknowledging the woman as you make your way off the bus and towards the bathrooms where you see matty push the door open. you rush after him, causing the the door to fly open. you both stand in the middle of the service station bathroom, the tension thick and heavy in the air.

he swallows, rubbing his arm and avoiding your eyes as he speaks up first. “can…can I help you?” he asks, his voice coming out strained and broken which only causes you to giggle. you move further into the room, crowding him up against the tiled wall.

“I’m not sure matty, can I help you at all?” you smirk, lips so close to his own as you speak you could feel the shaky breaths on your face. he swallows again, eyes avoiding yours as he shakes his head.

“I’m married, I shouldn’t be…” he trails off as you push your body up against his, cocking your head to the side as you lick your lips and grab the shape of his cock through his pants. he lets out a breath, relaxing against the wall as you start stroking him through the fabric softly. interesting.

“I’m sorry, you were saying?” you ask innocently, knowing what you were doing by now, the effect you were having on him. he closes his eyes, letting his head hit the tile with a thud before he looks down at you through his lashes. up close, he’s so much prettier than you had realised. you wanted to ruin him and have him ruin you at the same time.

“please.” he breathes out, taking you by surprise as he pushes his hips up until your hand and parts his lips. “please just touch me.” he begs, and how could you say no to that?

you move your head and steal his lips in a soft kiss, his lips parting instantly and letting you control the situation. this isn’t what you were picturing when he first stepped onto the bus, but after the mood you had been in you can’t say you’re unsatisfied with the turn of events. you move to unzip his trousers, shoving them down his legs and pulling his cock out of his underwear.

fucking hell. you weren’t expecting that.

he breaths are heavy, eyes wide as he waits patiently for you to do something. you think for a moment, deciding what you want to do with the little time you had. you started mouthing at his jaw being careful not to leave any marks to save him some face, his neck and down his torso until you’re forced to get on your knees so that you’re face to face with his leaking cock.

he leans his head back against the wall again, his hands finding refuge in your hair as he lets out a choked moan at the sight of you on your knees for him. If only you had more time, you’d spend hours torturing him, his sweet breathy moans quickly becoming your favourite sound.

that doesn’t mean you couldn’t have a little fun right now.

“I thought you were married, hm? your poor little wife, sitting on that bus completely unaware that her husband of two years is letting a young, innocent girl get him off. don’t you feel bad?” you tease, lips ghosting the tip of his cock as you speak. he quickly shakes his head, hands moving from your hair to form fists at his sides.

“she…she doesn’t do this for me. we haven’t even…just please?” he begs, his revelation music to your ears. “you don’t know how long it’s been since I…she won’t have sex with me, something to do with-“ he moans as you wrap your lips around his cock, letting the weight of it sit on your tongue as you savour the taste.

you slap his thigh lightly, a silent order for him to keep speaking as you start to suck his cock slowly. “oh fuck, something to do with staying pure…an act of celibacy or some bullshit but I really do love her, I promise.” he continues, emphasising the really with a thrust of his hips, causing his cock to hit the back of your throat, fluttering around him as he whines.

you pull off his length with a pop, lipgloss smeared around the tip of it as you work him with your hand. “that’s such a shame, you’re far too pretty for that. you sound so sweet. If only you were mine, I’d do so much to you.” you lick away precum that had gathered at his tip again, kissing it softly and pulling back again. “hm, how about I let you fuck my throat, since you’ve been such a good boy for me? you deserve to use me, no need to be shy.” you wink, moving your arms behind your back and letting your lips fall open and ready.

he stares at you, completely taken back by what you just offered. he lets himself think for a moment, about the morality of the situation, before shaking his head and grabbing his cock again and shoving it past your lips. clearly deciding that there was no time for questioning his moral compass as he moans loudly, feeling more free as he begins to fuck your throat. he picks up his pace, holding your hair as he whispers sweet nothings like you’re so good for me and so much better than she could ever be, even going as far as to wipe away the tears that had formed around your eyes and saying please don’t cry, you’re too pretty baby, I’m sorry

his hips begin to stutter, a sign that he’s almost there. “please, please let me cum down your throat, I need to cum please let me-” he begs through broken sobs, waiting for a nod of your head before he’s spilling down your throat, his groans echoing around the empty bathroom.

you pull off his cock, his body slumped against the wall as you show him your white covered tongue, swallowing his cum only causing him to moan again. he was such a boy, and you couldn’t really blame him considering what he had just told you. you decide to be nice, tucking him back into his underwear and pulling his pants back up his legs, going as far as to button them back up for him and placing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“I genuinely don’t think I can move away from this wall.” he admits, blush creeping up his cheeks again as he brings his thumb up to wipe the smeared lipgloss from your face. “thank you for that, and I erm…fuck, I’m sorry? I feel bad that I didn’t-” he says, gesturing towards you.

you shake your head and smile, giggling softly. “don’t worry about me, it seems like you have enough to deal with.”

“you could say that.” he laughs back, checking the time on his watch and letting out a sigh of relief to see that you still had five minutes before you really needed to be back, knowing his kind, thoughtful wife would hold the bus up if needs be. “we still have five minutes, if you really want me to do anything?”

you shake your head again, pulling his hand up into yours and playing with his fingers the same way his wife had done on the bus not long ago, sliding his wedding ring off and on. “I think I’d rather learn more about you? If that’s okay?”

he smiles down at you again and nods, eyes crinkling as he says “well I never actually got to talk to you about radiohead…”

#matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty healy fic #the 1975 fic

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straykids-97 · 1 year

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Ruby

“Ambition like a liquid ruby stain.”

Mingi is an educated man in all aspects…

Warnings: Vampire!Mingi, innocent!reader (a little ditzy but we still love her), slight dom/sub dynamics, obvious age gap, friends-to-lovers, mentions of Mingi being lonely, mentions of blood, marking, unprotected sex, exhibitionism (if you squint). Lmk if I forgot anything.

Word Count: 2.1k (kind of self-indulgent… Heh.)

A.N: If anyone wants a part two to this please lmk! :) Also don’t mind while I go off on a tangent… Mingi is a few hundred years old whereas the reader is implied to be in her early 20s. Ik the age gap bothers some people but it’s not like the reader is supposed to be underage. If this bother’s you, then DO NOT read this. Anyway, enjoy it for those who want to read :)

Your favorite pastime in your small, quiet town was to visit the trails. You’d often hike to a calm spot near the brook to read a book, finding consolation in being solitary. The tranquil environment made you happy, it was better than the noisy house that you lived in with your family. The invitation of staying home while studying at college was clearly a mistake, after all, you loved your family, but it made studying hard.

This is where you found yourself now; studying for midterms in the warm undergrowth of the familiar forest you spent most of your time in. Spread out before you on the blanket you were sitting on was your notes and two other textbooks. You groan, leaning your head back against a tree. You take a deep breath, closing your eyes as you sit there. You reopen your eyes and glanced forward, seeing a man standing a few feet from you. You gasp, holding your chest, “Oh, no,” he panicked, holding his hands up in defense, “I didn’t mean to startle you.” You feel your heart running away in its cage as you take in the man's looks.

He is tall, and lean, wearing jeans and a loose-fitting shirt. You could see veins running up from his hands to his forearms, where they disappeared into his biceps. His soft dark hair was parted down the middle, revealing his sweet-looking brown eyes. He didn’t look like someone who was out for a hike, but then again, neither did you.

“What are you doing out here all by yourself?”

That question was the first of many. Mingi was an interesting young man, to say the least. He was well-traveled and seemed to know quite a bit about just about everything. When you asked him how he could know so much, he simply smiled and said, “Being lonely can get boring. So I found things to do in my loneliness.” Whenever you asked him about his family, he would always give you that same soft smile and tell you that he was alone. It made you sad; you could see the gloom in his eyes whenever he talked about being desolate. But, sometimes you just couldn’t help yourself when it came to Mingi. Your family adored him and spent a lot of time with him as well. He was always polite, but never seemed to get close to anyone… But you. It was odd. But part of you didn’t seem to care. As the months turned into years and you were now in your final year of college, you found comfort in seeing Mingi.

When you found out the huge secret a year ago, you spent time apart. Unsure of how to really feel about it. At first, you didn’t believe him, but then when he showed you, it scared you. And that’s why you distanced yourself for a few months. But, it was hard. Mingi had become a bit of a habit in your life, and it felt empty when he wasn’t around. Eventually, you apologized and now, you two were inseparable.

Today, you were settled on a blanket, nose-deep in your favorite book when Mingi joined you. “Good afternoon, Y/n.” He said formally, making you snort. “Good afternoon, Grandpa.” You snap the book closed and look up at your friend. He chuckled once and flopped beside you, “You know I hate that.” He pinched your leg, making you yelp. “Not so hard!” You cry, swatting his arm. “Don’t be a brat and I won’t pinch you then.” He retorted, making you roll your eyes. “That was hardly being a brat.” Mingi released an annoyed sigh but appeared to let it go. For now.

“How’s studying going?” He asked, nudging the book so he could read the binding. “English 4. I thought you were done with this class?” He questioned. “I am. But, I’m re-reading it for an assignment.” You roll your eyes, tossing the book. You gasp as Mingi grips your wrist; not enough to hurt you, but to warn. “Enough of this attitude of yours.” He growls. Mingi rarely got frustrated with you, when he did, he never lashed out or yelled. He just got very quiet. Like he did just now.

“What attitude?” You grumble, yanking your hand away from him. “You’ve had it for the last week. What’s wrong?” he demands, staring into your soul. Your eyes shift away, feeling uneasy. You hated and loved how he did that; saw straight through everything. Right into the depths of your mind, almost as if he could read it. Though, you knew he couldn’t. But sometimes it makes you wonder. You chalked it up to him being old, being able to read people because of his experience that came with age.

“Y/n…” he warned. You finally lament, “I’m just stressed.” You admit, leaning against his shoulder. “This is my last year of school, and then I’ll really be an adult. I’ll be job searching by the beginning of next semester… And then…” You make a falling gesture, almost like a roller coaster going downhill, “Kaboom.” You sigh, “I’ll be married, with probably 3 kids, and divorced before 40.” Mingi stiffens at the word ‘married’, causing you to turn at him. “...and stuck in an endless loop of work, work, work until I retire at the ripe age of 70.” You notice that his fists are balled at his sides, making you frown. “What’s wrong, Mingi? Did I say something to upset-” he stops you. “What if…” He stops, almost as if he wasn’t ready to say what he wanted to. “What if what, Min?” You soften as you look at his stone features. His gaze is a million miles away, but his face remains expressionless. “What if you didn’t have to get old? Like me?” Your face pales, “Mingi… What are you talking about?”

“What if… What if I wanted you to join my Coven?” His question makes your blood still. “Really?” Your voice was so soft that you didn’t trust he could hear you at first. But you knew he could. “Yes. What if I want you to be with me… Forever?” Mingi turns to face you, holding your cheek. You gulp, seeing his eyes now burning with an emotion you’ve only seen a few times in your life.

Lust. Passion. Desire.

“Tell me, y/n, that you want it too.” He breathes, his voice barely above a whisper. Your eyes bounce between his and his lips. “Tell me that I’m not alone in this feeling, please.” He pleads. Mingi pulls you into his embrace, holding your hip as he takes a deep breath. “Your heart is racing, y/n.” He notes, making you shudder. It was racing, but you weren’t scared. You hadn’t been scared of Mingi in a long, long, long time. Was it the excitement that made your heart race, or was it partially fear? Fear of the unknown, fear of what’s to come if you say yes.

His eyes swirl to ruby, making you melt. You had only seen this happen twice, once when he caught you kissing an ex-boyfriend at a party and one time before your period. You mewl softly, “Mingi-” you melt into his body and he groans, “Please don’t tease me with probably, y/n. I need a definite answer.” His lips were centimeters from yours. Your head was swimming, you forgot about the space around you, forgetting that you were in the forest, forgetting that Mingi was a vampire. The only thing that was on your mind was sex.

“Mingi, please.” You begged. His eyes were an intense ruby, “Tell me, y/n. Yes or no.” His voice was calm, precise, seductive. “Yes.” You panted. “A thousand times. Yes.” Mingi lets out a frustrated hiss and pulls you into his chest and rolls you onto your back, shoving your school books to the side. He wastes no time with the fabric that separated you two. In his fervor, he accidentally tore your shirt, “Opps.” He chuckles, lips attacking yours and hips grinding against the spot that craved him most.

Words evaded your mind and you couldn’t think of anything at the moment. Only him and what you wanted him to do to you.

He pulled the last piece of clothing that separated you both and licked his two first fingers, “Can’t skip foreplay, can we?” You feebly shake your head as his fingers dance along your wet core, making him chuckle, “Maybe we don’t need foreplay after all?” He teased. Mingi pressed his fingers into you, immediately finding that gooey spot that all the guys before him never could find. Your back arches, and his free hand pins you to the ground. His lips find a spot on your neck, sucking and nibbling as he flicked his fingers inside of you. You felt the world spin as he continued his slow, tortuous speed. “So sweet. All of you.” He groaned, pulling his fingers out of you. You gasp, and the lack of feeling sent you reeling into the atmosphere, “Mi-” You began to protest but the feeling of his cock pressing against you made you stop. Earning a chuckle from Mingi, “If I knew this would shut you up, I would have done this a long time ago.” He slowly rolled his hips forward until they were flush with yours; letting out a groan as he stilled. “Fuck, y/n.” His voice was shaky as he grabbed your thighs, pushing them against your stomach. He lifted your hips just enough for him to stroke deep inside of you. You gasp, eyes snapping open to see his ruby eyes staring into yours. His firm muscles tightened as he thrust, abs flexing as his hips moved against yours. Your small hands gripped his wrists, desperately trying to hold onto anything you could grab as he began to thrust harder.

Your small moans turned into louder ones, your orgasm fast approaching. Mingi dropped your legs and put his hands on either side of your head, staring into your eyes as he moved. “Will you be mine? Forever, y/n?” He whimpered. You nod, “Yes. Yes, Mingi. Yes!” You cry, holding onto his muscular shoulders and wrapping your legs around his hips. He let out a loud groan, his mouth falling open. You could see his sharp incisors appear as he threw his head back, “Fuck!” He grunted, head lulling forward.

It all happened so fast.

Mingi gripped your chin, moving your head to expose your neck. He let out a throaty groan as he leaned into your neck, “This is about to be one of the best orgasms you’ll ever have, princess.” He pants. You gasp, his lips attaching to your neck. Next, you felt teeth pierce your skin, making you let out a shocked squeal. At first, it hurt, but after a few moments, a hot sensation filled your limbs. Mingi was right; this was about to be the best orgasm you had ever had. You shuddered, legs pulling Mingi closer to you and hands clawing at the skin of his back. “Fuck!” You cried, your orgasm rolling over you. The heat in your veins didn’t cease as he went faster, lips still attached to your neck. You let out a strangled moan as he held you prisoner, fucking you into oblivion.

After a few moments of pure bliss, Mingi pulled away, your blood dripping down from the corners of his mouth. He held your hips as he pounded into you at a harsher pace, “Mine. All fucking mine.” His sharp teeth were still visible as he threw his head back again, emitting the most deep-sounding moan you had ever heard. Mingi’s hips faltered for a moment, and then he stilled, chest heaving for a few moments. You watched, completely exhausted as his eyes went to their usual chocolate brown and he slumped back onto his heels. His eyes danced up your body as he lay beside you, moving your hair out of the way to view the bite on your neck. “I hope it didn’t hurt.” He murmured.

After a few moments, you catch your breath and reply, “Only for a moment.” You admit, before looking at him. “But, I think it’s worth it.” Your response made him smile brightly. Anyone else would have thought the blood smeared all over his chin would be terrifying, but it didn’t seem to bother you at all. Perhaps, Mingi’s vampiric ways were meant to find you. Maybe you two were meant to be…

Maybe. Just maybe.

Tags: @anyamaris @vibessonvibes@s3onghwaswifey @whatudowhennooneseesyou

Lmk if you want to be tagged!!

©️straykids-97

#mingi smut #ateez smut #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #song mingi #smut #The Red Saga

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boots-with-the-fur-club · 14 days

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Chapter 4 of These Are Not Our Masks posted a day early in celebration of @daboyau’s win in their poll!!

@that-0n3-shr00mi3-guy

@iobsesswaytoomuch

@sady-is-secretly-an-alchemist

@dluebirb

@burritello3000

Splinter carefully watches April enter the building. Even after she’s safely made it inside, he waits a few minutes just in case she needed to run.

When she doesn’t, he drives off to the auction house.

He hates the silence. He always has. Being famous meant he could surround himself with whatever and whoever he wanted.

The only thing he wanted was to not be fully alone.

Even when he refused to fight for Big Mama anymore, he had his rat as a companion. Anything to stop himself from having to think about his past and what led him to that point in his life.

He has nothing now.

No friends, no family, not even a pet. It’s just him. Arguably the last person he’d ever want to be left with. It may sound like an exaggeration, but he’d rather face physical or emotional pain from someone else like Big Mama or Draxum than his own wounds that keep reopening.

He thinks about his boys.

They’re all better than him than he was at their age in their own ways. Truly, he knows just how much they love him, which is a big change from how he treated his grandpa.

Then again, the way he brought up the turtles was different too. He may not have always been entirely focused on making sure they handled Hamato weaponry, but there’s no way he’d allow Donatello to continuing crying alone after hurting himself on an invention.

He’d never ignore the big smile on Michelangelo’s face after he’s painted their family with his little hands.

No possibility of him turning his back to Raph and Leo wanting to make their own business together because they knew each other’s strengths well enough to be aware that they’re always a good duo.

Thinking about how Draxum tries to force the dynamic makes his skin crawl.

He promised that he wouldn’t let him turn innocent creatures into war machines and he’s failed.

Honestly, without whatever the mad scientist is using, he doubts he ever could have really turned the turtles into soldiers or weapons.

Obviously they have the physical aspects to absolutely decimate enemies, but Splinter feels there’s something else.

Without being raised with love and kindness, they very much could be brutal and dangerous. It’s even still possible for them to destroy humanity.

But living weapons?

That requires a connection to Draxum other than mystics. He would need undying loyalty that you don’t get from blind rage or a single purpose. That’s why his sons could fight it. It’s how he got through to them.

Draxum doesn’t know it, but he too is on a time limit, just as Splinter is. His sons aren’t going to be told what to do forever.

Splinter finally gets to the auction house and parks before quickly sneaking in. It becomes apparent that someone, or multiple someones, have gotten there first. Doorways are smashed, non Lou Jitsu items are scattered around like garbage, and the regular employees are nowhere to be seen.

There are, however, Foot Ninja everywhere.

He uses his skills to carefully make his way to the very back of the auction house. They usually store older items there. His search only lasts about 15 seconds he hears footsteps and has to duck behind a weapon rack that holds several fan blades.

“I can not believe that Draxum had me come to babysit you! If you can’t get one measly item then you’re a failure and should be kicked out of the clan.” Casey crosses her arms.

“Then why are you still in it?“ Raph grumbles.

Foot Recruit gasps dramatically.

“I only failed as a technicality! How dare you speak to me that way!? I am your superior! You work for me!”

Raph stops walking, grabbing her arm roughly to stop her as well.

“I work for Draxum, not you, and he’s not here right now. I ain’t listenin to bottom rung washouts.”

Foot Recruit attempts to pull her arm out of his tight, and although she won’t admit it, painful grip.

“Excuse me!? I’m a more fearsome warrior than you’ll ever be! I have beaten you before! I will do it again!”

Raph releases her arm only to grab her by the face and lift her up. He squeezes her head painfully in his palm. She grabs and scratches at his arm, kicking her legs as well in a struggle. Splinter holds himself back from doing anything immediately, but readies to help if this goes too far.

“You were lucky before. I was bein nice. Not anymore.” Raph stomps over to an old car, getting the door open before tossing Foot Recruit inside.

He slams the door and Foot Recruit bangs on the window. Raph summons his larger form and places its hands on both ends. The form begins adding pressure, starting to make the car fold.

It takes everything Splinter has for him not to go help her. He knows it’s risky, but if Raph really wanted her dead he would have done it already. Revealing himself now might actually put her in more danger.

As the space in the car around Foot Recruit starts running out, she finally relents.

“You win! You’ve beaten me! You’re the better warrior!”

Raph’s other form goes away. He rips the door open again and tosses Foot Recruit back out.

“That means I call the shots! You look for what Draxum wants and bring it to me when ya find it, go it?”

Foot Recruit nods, trying not to let her quickened breathing be obvious.

“I said somethin, respond.” Raph growls.

“….Understood.”

“Don’t forget. You already wasted all your chances.” He leaves the room.

Foot Recruit’s legs give out from under her, making her collapse onto her knees. She wraps one arm around herself and uses the other to clutch her chest. Her heart is beating a million miles a minute.

He’s been capable of this? The whole time? He’s just been choosing not to maim her? Break her bones? End her life….?

It’s terrifying.

Draxum has three of them acting this way now. Any of them could have done this too? Leo, no, Artemis, has been staring her down a lot. He always has an odd hold on his katanas while he does it, it makes her think now that he’s been imagining using them on her.

Or maybe even using his portals on her.

Splinter turns his head away. He’s sure she wouldn’t want anyone seeing her like this. Despite what just happened, there still is no use trying to convince her to help him. He knows that someone like her has to come to a conclusion by herself.

He sneaks away instead, finally getting to an area with aged books. There’s a box underneath that he recognizes. Opening it up, he sees the scrolls he’s been looking for. He closes the box back up and carefully holds it close.

The key to saving his children is in there. He just needs to find it. Splinter hopes he can in time for April.

After she was dropped off, April headed straight into the building towards the Purple Dragons’ tech area. It occurs to her that they might have actually been there when Donnie arrived and picks up her a pace a bit.

Even if Kendra dogs on her any chance she gets and is a tech supervillain, April still doesn’t want her to get too badly hurt. They have known each other for a while. Most of their lives. It’s hard to forget that, as rough as it may be.

She very carefully enters the room.

Donnie is immediately in her line of sight. He didn’t even attempt hiding himself here. There’s no reason to, she guesses.

April continues inside with as light of steps as she can manage. It isn’t too far in that she sees Kendra tied up like a caterpillar and suspended from the ceiling.

Well, at least she doesn’t look hurt.

Kendra struggles more while staring at April. The tape that’s around her body is also covering her mouth. She’s silently insisting for April to get her down.

April shakes her head and makes a sign for her to stay quiet. Kendra only struggles more.

“I knew you were here the moment you stepped into the building. Take the other nuisance and leave.” Donnie says suddenly, breaking his silence but not turning around.

Both girls turn to look at him.

“Donnie, you gotta come back with me.” April urges.

“That’s not my name, and no I don’t.” He still doesn’t turn around.

April grips her bat tighter.

“Maybe you didn’t understand me! That wasn’t me asking! You are coming with me! And Splinter is going to fix your head!”

Donnie slams the metal he was working on to the ground and bends his head backwards.

“Splinter isn’t going to fix jack, that’s always been my job!”

April nearly freezes at seeing the mask over his face. The pupil she can see clearly is thin, slit, like an animal ready to pounce.

“Well, are you going to fix yourself then!?”

“How about you? Go make a friend that isn’t made of slime and doesn’t have fur or scales you freak!”

Oh, that actually stings.

“I don’t care what people are or aren’t! Especially not you, Donnie! We’re nerdy pals for life, remember?”

“That line reeks of desperation! You constantly hold me back! It makes me sick to be around a loser who can’t even hold a job. I have to come help you with everything because you’re good at nothing! That’s why I didn’t care you were coming up here. I knew you wouldn’t be able to do whatever your goal is. You never can.”

April blinks quickly to avoid any tears from coming. She focuses hard on what Mikey had said. This is Donnie trying to keep her safe. Short term emotional pain is better than long term physical, that’s probably something he’d say.

He only ever approached this level of mean when he-

That’s it!

April rips the tape off Kendra’s mouth.

“It’s about time! Get me down from here!”

“Not before you help me. Where are your headphones?”

“Are you kidding me!? You’re asking for that of all things!?”

“I know what I’m doing! Just tell me already!”

“Ugh, fine! They’re over there!” Kendra gestures with her head.

April starts walking over.

Donnie bends and twists to stand up while still looking at them, slowly approaching Kendra with a hiss in his voice.

“Are you so stupid that you don’t understand I can clearly hear you? I gave you an opportunity to leave with your lives and you didn’t take it.”

“I wanted to leave! It’s just O’Neil!” Kendra shouts.

“Hey, Donnie!”

He turns his head only for April to spray a ketchup packet at him.

“Ketchup!? That’s your plan-!?”

Kendra is interrupted by Donnie letting out the most high pitched scream to ever be heard. April grabs a nearby box cutter and frees Kendra during the freak out that’s happening.

“If you ever use this against him I will personally smash every piece of your tech I find, but Donnie has big issues with the smell and texture.”

“Whatever, I’m leaving! Good luck getting torn apart by your feral brother!” Kendra runs off.

April’s confused by that, she knows fully well Donnie isn’t related to her. Unless….she was trying to be nice after everything he said? It’s doubtful she’ll ever know for sure.

Donnie squirms on the floor like a breakdancing bug. It would be funny if April didn’t feel so bad about it. She holds the headphones she grabbed and takes out her phone, connecting to it.

April kneels down, avoiding flailing limbs as she uses her jacket sleeve to wipe off the ketchup. At the same time, she takes off his goggles and replaces them with the headphones.

His panicked breathing slowly subsides as loud techno music floods his senses. April always keeps a playlist on her phone just for him. Overstimulation really sucks, she knows that firsthand.

She watches his pupils begin to return to normal. No longer slit, but round. His whole body relaxes too.

“A….April….?”

“Donnie!”

“April!”

She turns around in a panic.

“Leo…?”

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #2018 tmnt #rise of the tmnt #these are not our masks fic #rise april #rise donnie #rise leo #tw threats #tw near death #rise splinter #angst

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thelaughtercafe · 3 months

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Intervention

Tea Type: Milk Tea

Potential Triggers:

Pairing: Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu/F! Reader

Length: 700

Summary: Your constant interference in Fuyuhiko's job makes him come to a difficult decision.

To say Fuyuhiko was pissed was an understatement. He’d tried so hard to keep this mission under wraps so you wouldn’t do something stupid again but here he was, nervously pacing a hole in the floor of your room as the best medic he knew looked over you.

The second the girl stood up straight Fuyuhiko barked at her, making her squeak.

“She’d better be okay!"

His former classmate knew him well enough to know his threats were out of fear and worry and she turned to smile patiently at him.

"She’ll be just fine. It was only a surface level bullet would. It didn’t hit any organs thankfully. She should be waking up soon, but still don’t push her too hard, okay? Her body is going to want to rest to heal itself."

Mikan placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder in support and then departed.

You groaned as you came to a few moments later, looking around groggily. Fuyuhiko frowned deeply at your side but you smiled and your eyes lit up at the sight of your boyfriend.

"Fuyuhiko! Thank God you’re okay I’m so-”

“We need to break up.”

“…What?”

Your smile fell instantly to one of worry as his frown never faltered though his eyes did drop and he shuffled his feet nervously. His face hardened suddenly and he met your gaze coldly.

“I’m done dragging you into this life. I’m not going to be responsible for you dying to protect me. I’m no good for you.”

You cried out as he went to stand, lunging forward to grab his hand and wincing as you jostled the wound in your side.

“Fuyu-ow!”

Worry flashed in his eyes and he rushed to push you down a little roughly as he put all his weight on your shoulders.

“Ok ok I won’t leave! The Hell are you doing, trying to reopen the wound!?"

You glared up at him suddenly passionate and he flushed as your hands moved to frame his cheeks so he’d maintain eye contact with you.

"Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu, I love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone. Just like you don’t want me to die; I’m not just going to stand on the sidelines while you put yourself at risk either! If you want to be a coward and run away from this relationship; make no mistake; you’re not doing it for me. You’re doing it for yourself you selfish jerk!”

His eyes narrowed as he growled down at you.

“Did you just call me a coward?!”

Of course he’d focus on that. Despite his apparent anger you could see he was flustered and his grip on your shoulders had softened. He was so close you could feel his breath on your lips.

You smirked.

“I sure did! And unless you make the right decision and let me help you’ll always be one. So…the obvious solution I’ve been asking for for ages is…”

You trailed off, looking up at him expectantly and he sighed in defeat gently pulling your hands away with his own and cradling them as he leaned down to press his lips to your fingertips, never looking away from your eyes the whole while.

He felt satisfaction go through him as you were the one looking flustered and sheepish this time.

“These hands are gonna cause me a lot more trouble…and maybe you’re right; I am a coward. A better Yakuza than me would have the strength to let you go. But…well.”

He chuckled and leaned down to seal your lips with his, only pulling back when you were both out of breath. His smirk was comfortingly familiar as he trailed his fingers through your hair.

“I am also selfish. I want you by my side for as long as we both live. You win you ballsy motherfucker… I’ll train you. But don’t expect it to be easy!”

The grin that broke out across your lips was legendary and Mikan had to tell Fuyuhiko to leave as you got too excited to sleep.

Maybe he had changed you…but you’d changed him just as much. Now he was hopeless without you.

Whoops.

Oh well. Guess it couldn’t be helped.

He was stuck with you.

#super danganronpa 2 #danganronpa 2 #danganronapa 2 goodbye despair #danganronpa fic #fuyuhiko kuzuryu x reader #fuyuhiko kuzuryu x you #fuyuhiko x you #fyuhiko x reader #danganronpa 2 headcanons #tlc: milk tea #tlc: fic

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copaganda-clobberfest · 9 months

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COPAGANDA CLOBBERFEST: THE BRACKETS ARE HERE!

I REPEAT! MOD REMEMBERED THIS IS A TOURNY BLOG!!!!

HERE IT IS:

Of course, not every submission was able to get in. But guess what! Until I get the polls out (which won’t be for. again. a while. i gotta prep more), THE ASK BOX WILL BE REOPENED AND YOU CAN SEND IN PROPAGANDA FOR ANY OF THE CONTESTANTS!!!!!!

Just follow the rules:

Don’t start drama

Only the contestants above

Really the first two

An abridged reading of the brackets:

SIDE A

Superfly from Mutant Mayhem vs Jet from ATLA

Amon from TLOK vs Hama from ATLA

Squealer from Shin Sekai Yori vs The White Fang from RWBY

Lotor from Voltron: Legendary Defenders vs Daenerys Targaryen from GOT— this poll may alternatively be named: CONTROVERSIAL WHITE HAIRED BITCH BLUNDER

SIDE B

Sylas from League of Legends vs Barriss Offee from Star Wars: The Clone Wars

The Radiance from Hollow Knight vs The Advance Party(+the Disrupt Party, they will be a two-for-one) from Not for Broadcast

The Darkling from Shadow and Bone vs Magneto from. you know

The Defias Brotherhood from WoW vs Striker from Helluva Boss

Characters already set for round 2 include Zaheer and the Red Lotus from TLOK, Poison Ivy from DC, Daisy Fitzroy from Bioshock, Scar from FMA, Anders from Dragon Age, The Black November from Mirror’s edge, as well as The Flag-smashers and Killmonger from Marvel!

Hoping I did this right, and again, please please please continue sending in submissions/asks of propaganda for these contestants! They will be used in these polls unless stated otherwise and would be a big help.

Anyways……….. BYE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#copaganda clobberfest #copaganda-clobberfest #announcement #brackets #tumblr bracket #tumblr polls #polls #poll bracket #tournament bracket #tumblr tournament

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gayerthanevertbh · 2 years

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— ABOUT ME ✿

my name is anne and honestly i’m a writer who doesn’t update that much anymore. but i will also do my best to update as much as i can, since it’s summer time and i’m ready to write again!

minors dni! 18+ | she/her

— MASTERLIST ↴

n.r masterlist | n.r one-shots masterlist | character’s masterlist | dark natasha romanoff masterlist | wandanat masterlist

— WRITING ✎

as obvious, i have rules when it comes to my writing. please do not repost (what i mean by repost is uploading my story to another website like wattpad, ao3, etc) and copy my whole idea. if you are inspired, please do contact me! i’m very nice :)

— REQUESTS ღ

my requests are closed for now, will be reopening soon!

rules and warnings:

- i write fem/gn!reader only, so if you have a male!reader request, i will not write that specific character for you.

- i write smut, angst (heavily on this one), age difference tropes, cheating, toxic relationships, fluff, and more. what i won’t write are incest, pedophilia, heavy bdsm, piss kink, anything with self-harm, and top!reader.

- when sending requests, please be patient! lately i’ve been away from this app and when it comes to all of your requests, it will take me time to write them as i have ideas of my own.

- SENDING ME THREATS does not condone my account, i’m a very fragile and sensitive person. i get easily triggered, so please just be careful of what you’ll say to me. :)

#a navigation !

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cjlinton · 6 months

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Custom Notebook Commissions Open

One of my non-TTRPG selves is a bookbinder with Amethyst Alchemist, my partner's sustainable bookbinding and embroidery business, and we are currently open for commissions from now until December 3!

These are handmade, custom notebooks from recycled and new archival quality materials, and they make perfect holiday gifts.

The commission form is here.

Slots are limited to ensure pre-holiday delivery in the continental United States—all commissions will be shipped on or before December 18 to meet the USPS Priority Mail deadline.

Text version and more details below the cut:

Commission Options

Option 1: Mini Notebook

A plain mini notebook without art embedded in the cover starts at $40.

Option 2: Designed Notebook

A designed notebook with art in the cover starts at $125.

Art embeds include embroidery, cross stitch, and felt appliqué—we work with you on art style and fabric selection and provide a sketch of the art embed before starting work.

Both options include a choice of over 200 fabrics, white watercolor endpaper, and a binding thread of your choice.

Pricing Information

Beyond the base price, cost increases are based on:

Dot grid or lined pages instead of blank (+$5)

Cost of additional materials required (e.g. fabric purchase, waxing custom thread, custom endpapers, custom interior paper like watercolor or aged)

Time to make the art embed

Payment

Payment is made with a 50 percent deposit up front, 50 percent on completion. Do not until we've confirmed we can take your commission and we’ve discussed and agreed on pricing—we send invoices! Books are shipped upon receipt of second payment.

You can check out the Amethyst Alchemist Instagram for more examples. We're excited to work with you to design the exact book you (or a loved one) are looking for! Again, commissions close at 11:59pm EST on December 3rd and won’t reopen until 2024, so reach out now!

#bookbinding #embroidery #crafting #would appreciate reblogs on this one!#liz does the embroidery and felting and i do the cross stitch #also not saying this will work for you but she did make me a notebook and we're dating now #so idk maybe giving your crush a really sexy custom notebook will also work for you

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nighthunter241 · 9 months

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He is Mine-Chapter 2 (Henry Cavill x male reader)

NOT MY GIF, GIF USED FROM TUMBLR OPTION

18+ DNI if you are lower the age of 18

Warning: mentions of DEATH

Rival #2 Gal Gadot

POV of M/N mom and dad during Week 1 before they left town.

Chris is in the basement home picking up a box and is about to go up the stairs to leave the basement. As he is leaving the basement with the box on hand he opens the door and is walking out until he is startled by his wife Alba. He gets scared and drops the box he was holding, making a loud thud when landing on the floor.

Alba: Oh darling, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.

Chris: It is no issue honey.

Alba: Surprised you still haven’t been able to distinguish my footsteps darling.

Chris: You are the one who has been known for being light on their feet.

Alba: What were you doing in the basement, wait is that the box with all our old letters and voice messages.

Chris: Yeah it is, I've been thinking about throwing them out.

Alba: And why is that darling?

Chris: You really want our kids to find them or worse read and listen to them.

Alba: Come on it won’t be that bad.

Chris: Sweety, I might be ok with the truth of the past but our kids we don’t know about that.

Alba: I highly doubt they will change perspectives, even though adopted they still seem more like me.

Chris: Yeah well anyway why did you want me to wake up early and drop you off at this gas station?

Alba: Well darling the best thing happened today, someone I saw many years ago is back in town and clearly still have interest in me so I had to make sure he knew that I knew he was back into town, I was hoping to catch him at the gas station to welcome him back but he instead ran down an ally.

Chris: Who are you talking about?

Alba: Don’t tell me you are jealous sweetheart.

Chris: Trust me I don’t get jealous especially about another man I know you wouldn’t do anything with another person.

Alba: So romantic honey.

Chris: Any way, who was this guy?

Alba: It was him, the investigator

Chris: What?

Alba: Yeah.

Chris: It can’t be I thought he retired or left town due to him being the laughing stock of the town.

Alba: I guess he is back now, may want to start picking up his investigation again and try to put me into jail again.

Chris: He failed the first time, you even embarrassed him and got him to lose everything while in court what else could he want.

Alba: He is stubborn and might think he can catch me slipping and hopefully reopen the case.

Chris: What do you want to do?

Alba: I’ll tell you about it while we pack our bags and head to the airport

Chris: Yeah that sounds……WAIT AIRPORT as in the place with the planes for people who leave the country?

Alba: Yes darling we are packing our bags and heading to Canada.

Chris: Are you kidding, and our jobs?

Alba: Relax, I took care of it, we get all the time off we need.

Chris: That is great but we got I don’t know THREE KIDS that are in their senior year about to graduate.

Alba: Darling relax, if they are just like their mother they will be fine.

Chris: How long will we be gone for?

Alba: I don’t know, it will depend how fast I can track him down and take care of it.

Chris: Alba sweety.

Alba: Darling don’t worry, I’ll pack and write them a note.

Chris: What about the box? Let me throw it out first.

Alba: Just throw it back down the basement and I’ll write in the note to stay out of the basement, you know they always listen to me.

Chris: Alright honey.

Alba: Do you think when we get back M/N will have a boyfriend I really hope so.

Chris: I hope not, can’t have another child go through a honeymoon phase.

Alba: What you say darling?

Chris: Nothing sweetheart.

Present

You wake up on Monday deeply annoyed when you remember that you have another issue to deal with. Now you have another girl that Henry can possibly fall for, just thinking about it pisses you off. You are ready for school and head downstairs and see your brothers eating and you update them about what you know.

M/N: There is another one.

Sebastian: Another what?

M/N: Another girl that likes Henry

Anthony: What, how do you know?

M/N: Robert told me

Sebastian: Him, and you take his word for it.

M/N: I mean I saw photos. It looked like Henry was getting close with that girl.

Sebastian: Who is the girl?

Anthony: I swear it better not be a student council member.

M/N: It is Gal Gadot

Sebastian: Wait, Gal you serious

Anthony: They are working on a school project together makes sense.

M/N: UGH, what do I do?

Sebastian: I have no idea, just let it play out until something comes to mind.

Anthony: You are so helpful sometimes you know that.

Sebastian shrugs at the comment and before you know it you are walking to school and at the corner where you meet up with Henry. After some time Henry calls out to you and you two start walking to school. “So how was your weekend Henry?” you asked him and he responds “Nothing much just feeling a bit better after what happened with Amy”. You end up asking him how everything is with that and he just responds letting you know the friendship between the two is over and that he is somewhat feeling better. One thing you noticed was that he never mentioned him being at the park or the walk and chat he had with Gal which gets you thinking if anything romantic is really going on. You decide not to push the topic and you two end up getting to school and Henry leaves saying he has to meet with Gal about their project. You end up following him until he reaches the school library and from a corner you listen to their conversation.

Gal: Hey Henry so glad you could meet up before class.

Henry: Yeah it is no problem

Gal: How are you feeling?

Henry: Better actually, the chat and walk with you made me feel better.

Gal: Have you told M/N about what you've been feeling?

Henry: Not really, he doesn’t really need to know.

Gal: Well I feel special. I know something that your best friend doesn’t.

Henry: I guess so.

Gal: Let's continue discussing how we should plan this project.

Henry sits down and starts talking with Gal about the project, hearing say how she thinks she is so special just because she knows a piece of info makes your blood boil. HOW DARE SHE think that. You were going to leave until you saw Gal put her hand on Henry's arm in a playful manner. You felt like something snapped, you were angry, no you were enraged by what you were seeing. After seeing that you left and decided you needed to relax, you go to the roof to relax but unable to come up with a plan you start freaking out on what to do. You go to class and while attending you are unable to focus without thinking of Gal and Henry until class ends. When lunch comes around you start walking by the club rooms and when you pass the Chemistry club you notice the cabinets and see all the chemicals, the dangerous chemicals. Hours pass and you get home and instantly go to your room to come with a plan. You start looking up the names of the chemicals you could see from the cabinet in the chemistry club out of curiosity. You end up finding out that certain chemicals in the club are poisonous, deadly enough to get it done. The temptation becomes strong but you shut off the laptop and quickly try to calm yourself, nearly going crazy at the thought of hurting Gal.

After having a rough night you get to school trying to hopefully have a normal day to see if it was possible to come up with a different strategy, that was until you saw Gal talking to someone and you decide to listen in.

Gal: I mean it, he is so hot.

Friend: I’m not saying you're wrong just making sure you know what you are doing, he did just lose his friend.

Gal: He clearly is throwing signals back, I can’t wait till Friday.

Friend: You really got it bad don’t you, what about M/N?

Gal: What about him?

Friend: They are close friends, what if he doesn’t like you and Henry chooses him over you.

Gal: Highly doubt that, before he knows it, I will be the one having Henry all the time and all that Henry will think about is me

They giggle and walk away, “Alright if that is how you feel, what about a rude awakening you ugly bit….”. Before you finish that thought Anthony comes up to you and smirks.

Anthony: Someone is being productive.

M/N: Shut it, just leaning against this wall.

Anthony:Yeah, sure. Have you come up with anything?

M/N: I…….well….

Anthony: Oh……is it those thoughts?

M/N: What thoughts?

Anthony: You know

M/N: Anthony………..I don’t know what you are talking about.

Anthony: Alright, just know you can do whatever it takes ok and we will have your back just know that.

Your brother leaves you to think about the last thing he said, and without a second thought it can possibly work. Maybe you can to the chemistry club room and seeing how empty it is you go in. The first thing visible is the cabinet and thankfully club members were dumb enough to leave it unlocked. You grab one of the tiny bottles and leave the room and you start wondering what you can do with the poison. But then you remember one thing, pour it into her food and we will have your back just know that.

M/N: Hey I need something.

Robert: What do you need?

M/N: Do you know Gal's usual schedule, like what she does during her free time before class.

Robert: I can send it to you but overall she is always with someone or doing something so she is distracted.

M/N: What about lunch time?

Robert: She packs her lunch in the cooking club, she apparently is good friends with one of the members so they let her put her lunch there and when lunch begins she heads to the club to pick it up and heat it.

M/N: When does she usually leave her lunch in the cooking club?

Robert: It looks like that is one of the first things she does when she gets to school.

M/N: Alright, thx.

You put your phone down and head to the cooking club, none of the club members are inside due to them handing out samples around the school. You open the fridge and see a whole bunch of cooking ingredients but only one lunch box is located inside. You take it out and open it, without hesitation you pour the chemical you grabbed onto the meal. After that you let it air out to get rid of the smell and after that you packed it up again and placed it back in the fridge. Everything is put back in its place and you leave the club room and quickly make your way to class before the bell rings. After hours of classes it finally hits lunchtime and you get to the cooking club and see Gal take out her lunch box. She walks outside and heads to one of the benches near the gymnasium and she sits down and starts eating her lunch. After a couple of minutes of her eating she starts making a face of discomfort then she starts coughing. She gets up and only manages to get like a couple of steps before she falls onto the floor coughing and gagging. After a minute of that she lays still and stops moving, a student comes out of the gymnasium and lets out a scream. Before you could get caught you run away and get yourself into a random room. The student that had screamed heads to the teacher lounge and leads the teacher to Gal. Before you know it an ambulance is called and comes to Gal aid but clearly showing no signs of recovery, the paramedics later call the time of death. Everyone is to their classes and are forced to stay put until class is dismissed early.

The Principal and Guidance Counselor decide to send the students home early and you are making your way home and when you get there you are greeted by your brothers who instantly start bombarding you with questions.

Anthony: Was it you?

Sebastian: You could have done a better job?

Anthony: What did you do exactly?

Sam: How did you do it?

M/N: RELAX!!! One at a time please.

Anthony: So?

M/N: It…..was…..me..

Anthony: How though?

M/N: I poured some poisonous chemical onto her food.

Sebastian: Wait, that was it?

M/N: Yeah

Anthony: We thought it was something more impressive but whatever.

M/N: Why are you guys so relaxed about what I did?

Sebastian: I don’t know, we aren’t really freaked out about this

M/N: Just don’t tell mom.

Anthony: Relax we won’t.

Your brothers walk alway to go make dinner and after eating dinner you head to your room to relax due to you not having homework and plan to enjoy the rest of the week until you receive a text from Henry.

Henry: M/N I feel so freaked after today.

M/N: I know, we just wanted a normal week.

Henry: I was getting along with Gal. I felt devastated after finding out what happened.

M/N: I know, I heard it could be food poisoning, a terrible way to go.

Henry: Yeah I heard about that also, I guess she must have used expired ingredients by accident.

M/N: I guess so, still a terrible thing

Henry: I think I may skip school tomorrow.

M/N: Wait, why?

Henry: I need a day to just process this.

M/N: I get that.

Henry: Wait, skip school tomorrow with me, we can go to the mall or go somewhere to eat just us two.

M/N: Henry you know I would, but I don’t need the school contacting my parents about me missing school while they are out of town.

Henry: Alright makes sense, don’t want you to get your mum angry I guess goodnight.

M/N: Night Henry

Week 2 Saturday

Henry POV

After the end of that school week Henry is walking by the football field, the one day he skipped wasn’t enough for him to get over the death of Gal. While walking by he runs into someone from school and he recognizes him. It is someone from their school football team, Ben Affleck.

Ben: Sorry about that

Henry: No, I’m sorry.

Ben: Hey weren’t you that dude who was working on that project with Gal

Henry: Um, yeah I was.

Ben: Oh ... .must have been hard for you.

Henry: It was but pulling through.

Ben: That is all we can do, how are you feeling overall?

Henry: Just sad, but also numb to it and freaked out since it is so out of knowhere.

Ben: I hear that, just trying to distract myself with practice.

Henry: Yeah I’m currently trying to find a distraction also.

Ben: Hey, I got an idea.

Henry: What is it?

Ben: You seem strong and athletic, can you throw the football at me and help me with my catches you can help practice more and it should distract you for a bit to have you forget about what happened

Henry: You know what sure, sounds like a good idea

Ben: Thank you and trust me playing will help you relax and forget for a bit.

Sunday

M/N POV

You are washing the dishes from eating lunch when you notice your phone starts notifying you about a message. After finishing up you check your phone and to no surprise it is from Robert.

Robert: Congrats on getting rid of Gal, you had successfully killed someone without getting caught. That is impressive.

M/N: I have no idea what you are talking about

Robert: No need to lie or act dumb with me like I said I’m an ally.

M/N: What game are you playing?

Robert: No game just making sure you know who to trust, but most importantly I have some information you may like.

M/N: Which is?

Robert: *Sends of photos of Henry and Ben at the football field* Good looking man right, all those muscles.

M/N: That is Ben Affleck, the football captain of our school.

Robert: Exactly and he seems to be getting close with Henry.

M/N: They seem to be friends.

Robert: Naive aren’t you

M/N: Wait, don't tell me.

Robert: Ben well after some digging he seems to be the classic in the closet Jock an interesting detail just saying.

M/N: Perfect another issue to take care of.

Robert: Shouldn’t you be happy, this can help confirm if Henry is into men right?

M/N: Yeah you are right, but worse if he decides to follow those feelings with Ben.

Robert: Like before, just get to know the details about their building “friendship” and from there you can confirm what you need to do.

M/N: Doing this all again.

Robert: Relax, I’m sure you can take care of it, you seem to know a lot more than you let on, have fun and don’t stress out, remember, Henry is already yours.

#henry cavill x male reader #male reader #x male reader #yandere male reader

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