#tw implied coercion

[reblrths]

caesar flickerman :

“ finch , you’ve become quite the heartthrob with many in and out of the capitol , tell us have any of us managed to catch your eye in these last few years ? ”

“ you’re an outspoken individual , any thoughts on your competitors this year ? who should steer clear of you in the arena ? ”

“ lark has certainly proven himself in the gymnasium , have you passed any skills along ? ”

— feel free to include more questions & answers , caesar usually has around 5 minutes with each tribute

sitting back in the interview chairs made finch tense. the first time she ever stood before these crowds, they didn’t know her; within five minutes, finch proved how difficult she could be, making them uninterested enough to deem her a non-threat. and when they were interviewed again by caesar after their win, the capitolites all sang a different tune. but this first question — it makes them laugh. finch knew better than to divulge anything about their personal life, they've given the capitol nothing for eighteen years. but the fact that something so juvenile is their first question when lives hang in the balance -- should they have expected anything less?

“finch, you’ve become quite the heartthrob with many in and out of the capitol, tell us have any of us managed to catch your eye in these last few years? ”

“heartthrob?” they shake their head with a scoff. “i’m going to be dead in a few days, but of course the first question you ask has to do with whether i’ll be leaving anyone behind.” the feeling of the glitter and fluorescent lights hot against their skin makes them itch and they want to walk off of this stage. this question felt targeted; they try not to think of doe eyes, damp hair brushed back, a delicate hand wrapping around finch's ankle to steady themself. they turn to face the crowd instinctually, barely turning their head before they catch her eye — of course she’s right in front. for a moment, brief as it is, they falter. no. even if finch did, they’d never exploit them to the capitol. anyone you care for is a target, they have learned this the hard way. they turn back to caesar with a hardened stare. “last i checked i wasn’t heartthrob enough for the capitol’s standards. you all seem to like them a little more naive,” it’s an obvious jab to those that were deemed desirable enough, the way they take the victors, threaten and exploit them, never not entertaining those in the capitol. they can’t contain the bitterness in their tone, the disgust at the capitol and its supposed secrets. finch got lucky and they knew it; snow knew no one would have wanted a female victor with a bad attitude and a bite as sharp as their bark. and if there were some, it wasn’t enough. they refuse to look back down at the crowds as they speak. “maybe that’s why i’ve managed to keep my eyes to myself.”

“always so secretive, aren't you?" caesar aims for lighthearted, but finch simply grunts. there's a pause before he continues. "you’re an outspoken individual, any thoughts on your competitors this year? who should steer clear of you in the arena?”

finch knows they won’t trash talk the other tributes. they’re either children or people they’ve come to know over the years. not even dae — they might not like him, but they wouldn’t have ever thought to kill him. “first you want romance, now you want threats — hitting every base tonight, caesar. this is why they pay you the big bucks, huh?” the idea of anyone steering clear of finch in the arena nearly makes them laugh again. their joke isn't taken as serious as they want when the crowd laughs along with caesar, but they suspect that is simply to ease the tension that has built in the room.

when the fake laughter dies down at their jab at the host and waits for them to answer this question, finch remains quiet. they refuse to answer, staring at caesar, forcing him to clear his throat and continue on. finch tries to quell the quirk in their lips at the unease of caesar's movements now, like he thinks they will attack him at any moment and must proceed with caution, but the flickerman's have never known caution. at the mention of lark, finch tries not to sit up immediately.

“lark has certainly proven himself in the gymnasium, have you passed any skills along?”

they want to snap, to tell this man who’s hard to look at not to speak of their nephew even if that is the reason they're here, but there is no use. as protective as everyone knows they are over their family, finch won’t make him look weak. in fact, they won’t talk about him at all. “any skills he might show, he hasn’t gotten them from me,” they admit, turning to the crowds, glancing into the cameras as if talking to snow himself. “no, the skills he possesses comes right from his father. who, as you might know, is no longer with us," finch leans forward in their seat, the most involved they've been in the interview thus far. "tell me, caesar, how many accidents do you hear come out of five?” a hushed murmur falls through the crowd and finch would have to thank soleil for this trick. “the workers, they know what they’re doing in those warehouses. which is why it was so strange that one of two explosions that have ever happened in five were after an undesirable victor won. what a coincidence wren was working that day.” finch is up before the peacekeepers can come to escort them away from the stage, though before they leave — they make sure to add a haughty and venomous, “that first explosion, though? that one happened when whispers of rebellion began to spread.” towards the crowd before they shove their way backstage.

[riiseandfall]

@rebellicnrising

there was a bark of laughter when dante's scored was revealed -- an honest to god laugh at that number that was so damning. a perfect score. there was a time when dante would have felt nothing but pride at seeing that twelve next to his face. but that was a long time ago -- now he was just bitter. how many years had he spent following their demands? those greedy hands and lips that felt like they branded his skin with their touch? how many years had he hated what he became? what they turned him into? that pretty little puppet? and this was his reward -- a death sentence. shots are swiftly knocked back and then he's gone as soon as he's able, disappearing into the gardens outside, ignoring those who wanted his time even more now -- made all the more desirable with that score latched to him. but one person persists, follows him outside and he is ready to snap on whoever it was -- (what more can they do?) -- only to freeze when he catches sight of those familiar blue eyes. "come to check on your favorite victor, darling?" there's another one of those laughs -- coming from somewhere even dante doesn't know. that previous bitterness is nowhere to be found -- he could never direct it at kaleb. "hope you didn't gamble too much on me -- hate to think of how much you'll lose when i--" he's fraying at the edges, trying to keep ahold of himself but he slips further and further away. "--works out for atlas though, doesn't it? he won't have to spend as much as he thought."

[gladiatefm]

𝙸𝚃 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝚃 𝙱𝙴 𝙴𝚇𝙷𝙰𝚄𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙰𝙻𝚆𝙰𝚈𝚂 𝚁𝙾𝙾𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙸 𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙾

mina dewitt , district seven

emilia clarke . cis woman . she / her ➶ DID YOU SEE THEM ?! they’re finally back as a MENTOR , and you know they’re one of my favourites ! it’s MINA DEWITT , the THIRTY year old WINNER of the EIGHTY FIRST hunger games! i’m just so excited to see them returning to the capitol all the way from DISTRICT SEVEN ! they won their games using AN AXE so their tributes will no doubt be desperate for their wisdom. the capitol just loved them for being so AMBITIOUS , even if they have been known to be CALLOUS at times. they DO have a relative in this years games and they DID volunteer . ( character IS part of the uprising )

— 𝙱𝙰𝚂𝙸𝙲𝚂

full name: lumina anamaria dewitt

nicknames: mina

age: 30

gender / pronouns: cis woman , she  /  her

orientation: bisexual

cccupation: victor

home: district seven

— 𝙿𝙷𝚈𝚂𝙸𝙲𝙰𝙻 𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴

eye colour: blue

hair colour: silver

build: petite

height: 5′2″

piercings: lobes

tattoos: none

distinctive features: white hair ,

face claim: emilia clarke

TW : mentions of starvation , implied coercion from the capitol .

— 𝙱𝙸𝙾𝙶𝚁𝙰𝙿𝙷𝚈

there was an axe in your hand before you hit puberty . you grew up with callused hands , the pads of your fingers roughened and your biceps firm with the muscles required to swing that axe . your family owned its own lumberyard , and thanks to cain , you grew up wealthy , you weren't starving like so many others in your district , and you took that for granted .

you're an ambitious little thing . your father's favourite , you worked alongside him every day , chopping the wood and selling it too . one day you would take over the family business , you thought , but it wasn't to be .

growing up in victor's village offered you a false sense of protection . the day your name was called , your mother collapsed , your father watched on with eyes hardened by the fear that this would knock once more at the dewitt's family door . when he said goodbye to you , he held you in his arms and he told you that you simply must win .

you were a hit in the capitol . a brother was mentoring a sister , and you were a beautiful young woman , flowing silver locks matched you with pastel colours , your parade costume was a cherry blossom tree and you outshone everyone with your beauty . they could never have seen your brutality coming .

you had sponsors , something rare for your district . they showered you with medicine and water , bread , fruits , gifts for the beautiful girl with silver hair . your arena was a snowstorm and you got your axe on the third day . you painted that pristine white arena in red .

you fought hard to make it home , and you knew your father would open up his arms , eyes glittering with pride . the axe swung and they fell , blood soaked you , clung to your clothes , your beautiful hair plastered in the stuff . you left that arena shaking and feral , but you were alive .

your games caused a stir . capitolites began to bleach their hair , tattooed their hands with the colour red . you were a hit and president snow took note of that .

when you returned home , another house in victor's village was secured for the dewitt's . you expected joy and celebration , but when you went to your father , he couldn't bear to look at you . you were something violent , something he could no longer recognise .

you've spent every day since trying to win him back , to earn the approval you lost a long time ago . and to keep your family alive , you have been whisked back and forth from the capitol , another desirable beauty , a jewel in panem's crown .

the day of the reaping came and , once more , the odds were not in favour of the dewitt family . you volunteered with your father on your mind , a chance to show him that you remain his daughter despite the games you fought so viciously to escape . part of the rebellion now , it is your duty to keep your sister alive for as long as possible , to keep the others from killing one another , to promise them a way out of this hell .

and then the pregnancy test was positive , and you felt the weight of more responsibility land upon your shoulders . suddenly , you have everything to live for .

connections :

i would really love the father of her child ! doesn't need to be a romantic connection and we can plot out the details but it would be so angsty and fun yep .

enemies ? exes ? pls ?

[elialys]

"There were a couple of scenes we tweaked quite a bit, particularly one where Lindsay, her boss, takes her home. And it's one of my favourite scenes in the show, actually.

And I think because it is so ambiguous, because it is never commented on after, you couldn't put a scene like that into a modern day show without having some repercussion for it, or having her have a conversation about the specifics of that. But we very, very specifically did not want to do that, we wanted to simply present it. And then the audience has to live with it. And that's the uncomfortable part that they're living with." Anna Torv [x]

THE NEWSREADER | 1.02 "Once in a Lifetime"

[incaensio]

setting : pre plot drop, during flickerman's after party. with : finnick odair ( @secretlics )

finnick odair is always easy to spot. once upon a time, constantinus marveled at the team work, the genius that went into building that pretty, deadly kid from four into the most desired thing around — it took the boy, sure, but also his mentors, his stylists, the whole thing. a part of the marvel is still there, con would say, but most of it has been replaced by the disgust that settles deeply into his core. finnick odair had been a boy then, and there's not a hint of that anymore. constantinus can not be afford to think like that, of that, of that boy, when he walks in his direction and plants a kiss upon finnick's lips as a greeting. "sweetheart." drawls out in his capitol accent, smirk upon his lips. he'd throw up if he could. he knows it's not one-sided.

the action allows him some room. not a lot — their affair has made headlines a few times, but con has said in an interview he's not the extremely jealous type before, and finnick is always so generous to capitolites, isn't he? "oh, i'm so sorry to interrupt." the act continues, eyes widened as if he hadn't seen anyone but finnick around them; the cockroaches make a few noises, but linger still. "would it be too much to ask for some alone time? i know these people love you so, but don't i get some priority, darling?" he quirks a brow, no lovey dovey sweetness in his blue eyes as he looks into finnick's own, even if he has a hand upon finnick's shoulder. this is a game. they need to get out of it to speak properly.

"i have something i got for you, but it has to be private." the double - intended words resume the gagging instinct to his throat, but constantinus tightens his lips into a smile, and hopes he can get out of here before he throws up.

[riiseandfall]

∗ 5o﹕ sender rests their forehead against receiver’s . ( kaleb x dante )

@rebellicnrising

they had been laying in bed for the better part of twenty minutes, both awake just...postponing actually leaving, playfully coming up with any excuse to stay right where they were. 'i'm not moving until you move.' 'well i'm not moving because i happen to be pretty comfortable right now so you move.' 'oh yeah? how comfortable?' 'comfortable enough not to move, i just said that.'

it doesn't set off any alarms when kaleb laughs--something that's quiet and rumbles, still tinged with sleep--and a smile makes its way onto dante's face. not a grin or a smirk, something that's soft, far softer than he meant for it to be. it doesn't set off any alarms when kaleb's hand moves to rest against the side of dante's neck, causing his heart to sputter in his chest as a thumb traces against his adam's apple. but when kaleb leans forward, gently pressing their foreheads together? when dante's eyes grow slightly wider as he scans the other man's face---memorizing each minute detail to his memory? (as if you didn't already know him by heart.) when dante moves to brush dark curls away from kaleb's forehead with a tenderness that he had almost forgotten his hands were capable of? when he leans forward just a fraction of an inch and whispers, "i wish i--" could stay here forever. just like this.

that is when the alarm goes off.

they had a rule. set in place years ago, four simple words and yet they bound themselves to it. don't fall in love. it isn't now that dante realizes he was falling, it's now that he realizes he's already hit the ground. (always the rulebreaker, aren't you?)

it feels like an act of god to tear his eyes away from kaleb's, inhaling sharply as he turns, moves to sit up, a hand running down his face as those thoughts--those feelings--get shoved into some dark corner of his mind. "i, uh, wish i didn't have plans today. some peacekeeper captain just found and captured a whole group of rebels over in ten. got a promotion out of it so..." the capitol had their gifts for those who served them well. he turns back to kaleb, the mask firmly back up as he leans forward to press a kiss against his lips--but he's hesitant, lingers a second too long. "i--" (i'm sorry i broke our rule.) but he can't manage to say it, just taps kaleb's cheek, shooting him that smirk he so often wore. "--i'll see you around, darling."

[gladiatefm]

𝙸 𝙳𝙾𝙽'𝚃 𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝙷𝙾𝚆 𝚃𝙾 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚈 𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙼𝚄𝙲𝙷 𝙱𝙻𝙾𝙾𝙳 𝙸𝙽 𝙼𝚈 𝙼𝙾𝚄𝚃𝙷 apollo redfield , district four

— 𝙱𝙰𝚂𝙸𝙲𝚂

full name: apollo redfield

nicknames: none

age: 30

gender / pronouns: cis man , he / him

orientation: bisexual

cccupation: mentor in the hunger games

home: district four

— 𝙿𝙷𝚈𝚂𝙸𝙲𝙰𝙻 𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴

eye colour: brown

hair colour: brown

build: slim , muscular

height: 5′11″

piercings: none

tattoos: none

distinctive features: long , floppy hair

face claim: joe keery

— 𝙱𝙸𝙾𝙶𝚁𝙰𝙿𝙷𝚈

tw : implied coercion to serve the capitol , depression

you want to be special, have you ever considered that this isn't the life for you ? district four picked you up in its gentle hands . your parents wanted a career tribute, a home in victor's village for they were never reaped so why not volunteer a son ? sure , how bad could it be for you ? everything came so easy to you .

the academy wrung you out like an old rag but you bore the pain, threw it over your shoulder like a sack and travelled through those younger years, the pressure of it all weighing every step .

at fifteen you volunteered . fresh from the academy and strong from days out on your father's fishing boat . that doe eyed, gooey tenderness — they tried to drive it out of you, but they never good . the soft spot within you endeared you to the capitol . you were a hapless thing, out of your depth and yet you were strong, you had an advantage that so many didn't . your tendency to panic reared its head within training and yet your score was good , you intimidated the other tributes , and the capitol couldn't get enough .

you rode the tube to the arena and found yourself in darkness . soon you realised you were in a cave system . your panicked instincts told you to run, but you fought your way to cornucopia, grabbed a sword and soon you were leading the career pack .

it was never a fair fight . you could climb, you were strong with an abundance of sponsors won over by your charm . from the moment you stepped into the arena, it was never a fair fight — none of this was fair . but you didn't know that , you just wanted to win, could feel the eyes of your parents burning through the cameras tracking every move .

when you made it out you were blood soaked and shaking, the wide eyes that endeared you to hundreds held an emptiness behind them . you fought your way out of a darkness that took hold of you in that arena , you fought and you never let up .

the house in victor's village held your parents and siblings , they made it their own, and you hid away in your room or on the fishing boats, even if you didn't need to work anymore . you parents didn't want you , they wanted a life of ease .

mentorship came easy until you realised those kids were going to die . still, they arrived every year and you adored them . you did what you could for them, fought tooth and nail . each one that made it out was a victory .

when you were old enough, the capitol sunk its teeth into you . you played along because you can't help it, you want to make people happy . you can't bear the idea of anyone disliking you — how could it be possible ? you're the shining star of the capitol . . . it's all you ever wanted . you're loved . you're finally loved .

[wvrricrs]

𝐄𝐔𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑

full biography here !

baby , baby , baby boy -- bullet bio under the cut hehe <3

this is eugene denver ! he was the victor of the sixty seventh annual hunger games. he currently lives in district six's victor's village , his cat , lil garden , and a whole lot of guilt ! he is a part of the uprising , please don't ask him about it. he's bad at keeping secrets.

TW FOR CANON TYPICAL COERCED SEX WORK !!!

eugene grew up the son of a train conductor , something that was a big deal in district six , something not any one can boast. his mother is a school teacher . they both tell him that he can do anything he wants to with his life , that he can grow up and see the world. he grew up comfortable , with a false sense of security, and a knack for the way trains work.

the capitol sends eugene’s family bags of coal every week — in their eyes, it’s easier to send it directly to who will be using it. eugene’s job is to cut open the bags and sort them into smaller bags for each day. his family gives him three advantages over any one in his district or below — he’s fed more than almost any one in his district, he’s strong, and he knows his way around a sharp object. he knows the best way

when he is reaped, his mother holds him so tightly, he thinks he might not even make it to games. his mother holds him like she’s saying goodbye — and really, this is probably for the best. his father is less realistic, puts a hand on his shoulder and tells him that he simply must do whatever it takes. he tells him that it's okay to do whatever he needs to do, that he won’t love him any less. he promises his father that he will do it, that he'll make it out alive.

he makes good on that promise.

he is darling in interviews & capitolites love it. he’s such a cute kid, they say. i’m sure he’ll be such a looker when he’s older. the boy is a charmer. his escort tells him it’s a good thing — he’s so skinny, how will he ever beat those big careers ? ( he remembers being a "big kid" in six . much bigger than some of his peers . it is a shock to the system to go from being hated for having meat on your bones to being disregarded for being so small . )

he is brutal in the arena . no one sees it coming , not even him . eugene denver is the name sounded across the arena . across the capitol . across all of panem . he does not feel like a victor until he is clean , until he is back at his mother's kitchen , dinner given to him with a smile .

they don't have him open coal bags any more, however, having seen every minute of the massacre .

the day of his eighteenth birthday, he begins being whisked back and forth to the captiol. and it doesn’t end until he is not a capitolite darling any more. he's not sure when it happens -- when he slips from public's favor . at least now he can be alone . at least now he can live in peace .

& then the war darkens his doorstep .

and he remembers that somethings are worth fighting for .

[zonkedz]

He’s the best the girls on Jig-Jig street ’ve got. He’s all we’ve got. 

Just a day in the life of a joy toy getting by.

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ ADORE L'AMOUR

tw. noncon/dubcon, implied yandere, forced emotional cheating, virginity, service dom, coercion/manipulation, corruption kink, size kink, creampie, service dom! tsumu, degradation and praise wordcount. 5.5k

a/n. commissioned by a lovely person who wanted to stay anonymous, thank you so much for commissioning me and trusting me with your story, and i really really hope it delivers and you enjoy!!! this is kinda softer than my usual stuff but also still read the tws pretty please ♡♡♡ ya and ty and enJOYyy some tsumu

miya atsumu x fem!reader

“Come up, will ya?” he smiles, grabbing your hand and swinging the interlaced pair back and forth. You can’t help but have to bite back a tiny smile at the way his rougher hand links into yours, and butterflies still erupt any time his hazel eyes find you.

“Shin, I-” you sigh back, before quietly chuckling as he heaves you up onto the bleachers and tugs you along to slide in right next to the familiar face. Aran rolls his eyes, but you can tell that there’s too much fondness in his look to seriously mind the lovey-dovey shit— and really, you can’t help it.

Any girl your age would be expected to go all heart eyes when their boyfriend looks at them that way. “Happy now?” you ask as you’re pushed between Aran and the escape to the outside fresh air, void of all the sweaty teen musk and squeaking sneakers, and Shinsuke smiles ever so slightly at the sight.

“Yes, I am. Keep our long-suffering ace company for a bit while he patches up his ankle, won’t ya?” He’s already escaping down from the stands with the knowledge that you will, because if nothing else, you love watching the guys play. You’ve loved watching Shinsuke play ever since middle school, and Aran’s expression gives you the idea that he knows this too. Because he simply shrugs, and re-wraps the ice pack a little better around that wounded ankle.

“Aye aye, Captain,” you shoot back as he makes his way back to the court, and this time, he gives you that wonderfully cheeky smile that made you fall head-over-heels in the first place. “And you, you’re a third year. You’re supposed to be one of the responsible ones.” You give the tall ace to your side a side-eye as he laughs full and loud, and nods.

“Sorry, Mrs. Kita. It won’t happen again.” Practice continues for another half an hour in peace, as you joke around with your boyfriend’s best friend for a while, tossing the occasional stray ball back onto the court, but mainly, just watching the guys play. You didn’t use to have such a love for the sport. When you were a ball-girl back in middle school, you only did it because it was an easy extra grade on your report card, and kept you sort of busy during hours you wouldn’t have anything else to do.

But now, sometimes it seems as much your life blood as it is theirs. You probably wouldn’t have developed such a crush on the quiet, well-spoken boy with the fluffy tufts of hair that flopped about if you hadn’t kept with it, wouldn’t have dated him, wouldn’t have laid in the dark talking about what your life together might look like. Watched Shin grow into the person he is today.

You smile and wave as Shinsuke looks up at you yet again and throws back a wink, and a few of the guys follow his gaze. Familiar lazy gazes of differing shades of brown. But they stay quiet, for now, and the team captain claps his hands to call for a break. And the lankiest of your middle blockers groans and reaches for a bench too quickly, as everyone disperses. Aran makes his way down the stands for the toilet, Ginjima follows suit, and your boyfriend goes through the trouble to start collecting the balls with the same single-minded focus he always has while practicing. But before you can so much as manage to make it down the stairs to help him out, a familiar figure comes up beside you.

“Captain’s got it, I think,” Atsumu smiles as he comes to walk beside you, not the slightest bit winded despite having jogged up to you after an hour of intensive training— and blinks down at you with the self-assured grin you’ve come to expect of the star setter. “Yer still comin’ to our practices, huh?”

“Yes, Miya. Believe it or not, I actually like watching you guys play, ‘m not just here to waste time and gawk.”

“Whoa, doll,” the blond isn’t fazed, and simply throws up his hands in mock-defense, “I wouldn’t dare question the validity of yer visits. I mean, ya brighten up the place, really.” The comfortable way he swings an arm over your shoulder and leans in a little isn’t too far out of how he usually acts, and you do know that Atsumu’s pretty damn touchy with everyone. But his smile, and the way his eyes flick down your face with an almost grating intensity— will never stop feeling flirty- and therefore- inappropriate. Though you try to find something fitting to say, he’s already running his mouth again before you get the chance to.

“Would be even better if ya’d put on a shirt with my name on it and took some cheer classes,” he gloats, and the way he walks leaned into you keeps his face much too close to yours as you go to frown at him, “bet ya’d really suit the Inarizaki colors when you glare like that.” It sets you off, and he knows it does, because he’s dodging the way you go to swing at his arm with a chuckle before you get to, and catches your fist in his hand to squeeze it a little. “Hah, always so mean to me. Getting predictable, pretty girl.”

Your bottom lip is sucked to slot between your teeth, and you roll your eyes, shrugging off the other hand that he tried to ruffle through your hair. “You’re exhausting.”

“Sure is,” Shinsuke suddenly mumbles, tossing a ball at the setter that he manages to catch, before raising a brow. “That’s my girlfriend, Atsumu. If you would, please.”

“Ya got it, Cap’n. Of course,” he chants back with a sing-song-y voice, but his thumb still rubs another few circles into the soft skin of your hand before he goes to annoy Osamu and Suna instead. It sends a cold shiver down your spine, but he’s pulling away before you have the chance to really acknowledge the touch. And if Kita has any concerns about what he just saw, you sure as hell can’t tell, when he pulls you close and places a loving kiss between your brows. But you still have to force yourself to ignore the way Atsumu gives you a once over and -if you didn’t know the guy better than that- undresses you with his eyes.

+

Graduation should feel a little bittersweet, you guess. The party isn’t too wild, considering, but it’s still loud and a little over the top— so you confine yourself to the area further away from the pounding music and sip reasonably mild drinks while the rest of the team and their plus-ones take their best attempt at rattling Suna’s house off its’ foundations. It’s warm for a spring night, and sweat sticks to the back of your neck and chest from the earlier forced dancing you were pulled into. But now the pool table has been abandoned for the garden, and you take the few quiet moments to breathe.

Most of the guys will be moving on to professional level, a few of them to university, and another few have jobs lined up. Just last year, Shinsuke moved back out to the countryside, and Aran to Tokyo; and while you’ve all tried to keep up communications, distance really does play a big part in it. And now it’s all your turns… It’ll be safe to say you won’t see some of them again much in just a few quick months. The thought already fills you with a strange sort of nostalgia. You don’t get too much rest though, because a flash of blonde followed by an equally handsome, dark-haired copy filter back into the house. Atsumu brightens a little when he spots you, lazy eyes sharper and more calculating in the low light of the house. Of course he does, he seems to have a strange fascination with annoying you to bits.

“Well, pretty girl, ‘ve ya been abandoned by yer human defense robot?” His handsome face paints on a grin, with slightly rosy cheeks and ears, that almost makes him look a few years younger. Almost makes him look innocent. You know better though, and swallow down the want to give back some snarky comment that would surely have you in a battle of wits until someone puts a stop to it. And his twin… isn’t that person. You wonder how much he’s had to drink. Not that you’re doing much better, anyway. You can feel the buzz in your blood and the heat on your face.

Osamu’s hair is messy and fluffier than usual, probably courtesy of the girlfriend he brought and— with a quick glance around the room— has been left on her lonesome somewhere in the partying group outside. You pity her just a little bit, but it doesn’t exactly surprise you that the Miya twins aren’t the most consistent with their affections. The guys started having groupies all the way back in freshman year, and the years have only built upon that fame. The darker haired of the two puts a fist into Atsumu’s shoulder, before crossing his arms. “That’s our last Captain yer talkin’ about, stupid Tsumu. Show some respect.”

“Aw, Samu. I’m sorry, alright.”

You smile softly, and nod your head towards the door. “Not abandoned. He stepped out for a minute for a smoke,” you cut them off, knowing full well they could continue their bickering for hours if left to it. It’s not like you don’t like the twins. They’re obnoxious, and boisterous and hyper at the best of times, but they’re insanely talented too. You would like them, if not for— Atsumu feeling too comfortable hanging his arm over your shoulder to pull you in for a hug, heavy cologne mixed with a scent that is distinctly more him enveloping you as you freeze up. “Miya-”

“‘S gonna be weird without everyone ‘round, huh? I’ll miss ‘em,” he lowers his voice as he keeps your face into his chest, and simply out of a desire not to feel too awkward, you allow your arms to wrap loosely around his back. You give a little motion to be let out of the hug to nod, and smooth your hands down your pants.

“Yeah, me too.”

There’s a sort of glint in Atsumu’s eyes that seems like tenderness as he pats your shoulder, then smiles. “Well, a’least you’ll know me.” Your expression must give away your confusion, because he continues. “Yer goin’ to Tokyo uni, I’m goin’ to Tokyo to check out some of the teams there. It’ll be good. Don’t tell me yer just gonna ignore me when we’re gonna live so close together.”

You don’t think it over- Shinsuke must’ve told him. As the buzz washes over you and the music picks up outside, Atsumu’s large hands find your shoulders and he turns you around towards Osamu, who has already poured three large shots. “Oh, I don’t-”

“Come on~ for prosperity,” Osamu chants, his hand finding yours to unfurl it and place one of the large shot glasses in your hand. And Atsumu nods behind you, basically glittering from excitement. You’re normally a bit more -standoffish, by necessity- but the atmosphere of the night is light. And Tsumu’s hand on your lower back as he pushes you towards one of the chairs and sits you down is nice; even if you only realize a second or two after that he’s sat below you.

“Ya owe me a couple cheers at least,” Atsumu basically coos into your neck as he taps his own glass to yours. “‘Sides, I think Shin went ta go drop off some of the other guys, no need ta wait up for ‘em. Right Samu?”

“That’s what I heard, Tsumu.”

+

You don’t expect university to be the thing that breaks you, but the distance, the lack of communication, of support— all drag on you. You and Shin both promised to make it work, but he’s busy a lot. The farm keeps him occupied. At least- that’s what you have to assume when most of your messages get read and not answered. It isn’t like Shin, but then again, you suppose it’s a growing period. It’s natural.

More surprising than that is that through it all, Atsumu is there a lot more than you expected. The giant, prestigious sport center where he trains isn’t too far from your campus, but he still goes out of his way to swing by whenever he can to keep you company, which isn’t so self explanatory as you had hoped it would be. It’s not that you don’t make friends, or can’t make friends, it’s just that- after a few weeks- they just seem to vanish off of the face of the earth. Like they were never even there to begin with. You even catch some people purposefully avoiding you on campus as the year goes on.

But the workloads are heavy, and hard, so you sadly don’t have enough time in a day to worry about it as much as you would like to. You still have Atsumu, at least, and as much as you wouldn’t have wanted to admit it shy of a few months ago, his persistence about wanting to be by your side does slowly have you bending just a little.

“I swear it, cross ma little heart,” the blonde dramatically says while walking the grounds with you- on his free day- “am I not the best goddamn setter in the prefecture? What choice is there?” He runs a hand through his hair, then looks over at you to pout. “Make me feel better, c’mon.” Before you can really analyze the moment or how he looks at you with those warm brown eyes and too much fondness, his hand wraps around yours, slipping his fingers between yours with a strange determination.

You stop walking, and your school bag hits your thigh hard because of the abrupt stop. “Atsumu.” You’ve had this conversation with him about a million times. You are with Shinsuke. You have been with Shinsuke since middle school, and though dealing with the distance is hard right now, you promised to try. And he says he understands, and you’re making a big deal out of nothing— but it sure doesn’t seem like he does. “I am d-dating Sh-”

“Ya keep sayin’ yer dating, but where is yer boyfriend? Didn’t ya say he hasn’t been responding to yer messages?” Though he tries to keep his voice down, he doesn’t let go of your hand, and stares like he’ll burn holes through the shape of you. “Ain’t that proof enough?”

“I know Shinsuke, and you know Shinsuke. If he wanted to break up, he would say it.” You puff your chest out a little, and swallow, trying to untangle your hands from his grip. “He’s busy, and this is a transition period for us both, and I just- I want to make it work.” Atsumu seems to cling on for a second longer with a slight kink in his brow, but then he lets go and sighs, rubbing his hands back and forth through his lighter blonde hair with a groan.

“Fine— fine! If ya gotta hear ‘im say it…”

+

The irony tastes bitter. It stings with every swallow, really.

‘I think it’s not working out. I’m sorry. We should break up.’

You’re staring at the message for the nth time this evening, burying yourself in your cocoon of blankets and an almost empty back of chips yet again. You must’ve breathed it into existence, right? There’s no way around the timing of the message, and the sick way it churns in your stomach. You’re halfway towards another crying fit when Atsumu plops himself down onto your bed and grimaces. “Put that down,” he mumbles, snatching the phone out of your hand despite your glare, “you’ve been cryin’ all fucking evening. You really wanna do more of that?”

“I didn’t ask you to come over,” your voice is a murmur, pinched and sad and tiny, because who wouldn’t be heartbroken at a moment like this. “You just invited yourself in, which- hck- is the worst timing you’ve ever had.”

“But yer glad I’m here. I know ya are.” Whatever. Maybe you’re a little glad for the company, but Atsumu’s flavor of bluntness is really doing a number on you. Instead you reach for a tissue and blow your nose again, and try not to cry yourself to death. “He didn’t treat ya right anyway, don’t lie t’ yerself. Hey- look- look at me, c’mon,” his hands are on your face as he tugs it towards him and stares too deep into your eyes, brushing his thumbs along your cheekbones. “No more cryin’ about yer shitty high school crush. Not while I’m here, and I’m yer amazing, incredible support system that yer so very grateful for-” He breaks off in laughter when you have to bite a chuckle back despite your heartache, and try to pull your face out of his touch.

But he lingers, and leans in a little. “What? Am I wrong?”

“You’re not wrong, and I- I’m glad you’re here-” It isn’t a lie, but he’s still leaning in, and his face is growing awfully close and it’s- it’s too soon— and you shrink into your cocoon and look away in an attempt to save the situation. Shin broke up with you hours ago. “Atsumu-” you start, only to be cut off as he tugs the blankets down somewhat harshly, and clicks his tongue.

“Stop runnin’. Yer always doing this crap, I’m…” He sighs, and tries to coach you back out with thinly veiled patience. “Am I really so bad to ya? Hm?”

“Of course you’re not.”

He sits back, before patting his lap, and looks at you. In the last light of the sun that falls through your window he’s cast in the prettiest oranges and pinks, and looks almost ethereal to the world. You’re not blind. That was never in question. “Come here.” Despite being conflicted, there’s a glint in his eye that worries you. That if you were to disagree, he’d leave. And you’re not sure you could handle that right about now. As he leads you out of the blankets you notice how cold your room is in just a shirt and some ugly shorts, and Atsumu mumbles something under his breath. “Ya weren’t this shy at graduation, y’know.”

Your frown digs into your face, but his hands settle on your hips as he pulls you in and pushes you down into his lap with a soft hum. “What do you mean- graduation?”

“Just settle down, will ya? Jeez.” Warm hands that slide to the small of your back to force you ever so close to him, your heart basically stuttering out of your ribcage. “Always so damn skittish ‘round me.” You always wondered a little, truthfully. If the way Atsumu’s touches would linger on you was something to worry about, keep an eye on. If you should have been more careful about setting boundaries- and how he looks at you now, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he gives you an up and down… it says enough. Too much, even.

And though you admit that your heart is pattering like a hummingbird, there’s a much larger issue here. You love Shinsuke, you want- Shinsuke, p-promised you’d make it work for him— and it's barely been a few hours. You can’t, so you try to find the words to say; but the blond leans down to start pressing kisses down the side of your neck with a soft chuckle. His arms wrap tightly around your back, even though you place a hand on his chest and shake your head. “Tsumu, no. We can’t, I- can’t, let go.”

The noise he makes into the kisses trembles through your skin and seems to reach bone, before he squeezes a little harder to keep you slotted against him. “Yer so pretty, baby. Always were so fuckin’ pretty,” he goes from keeping you in his lap to slowly pushing you back in bed, sending your breathing into shallow spikes.

“Tsumu, cut it out!”

“I know yer nervous,” his pretty brown eyes are blown out when he pushes you down by your shoulders and you’re buried in your blankets, before he descends on your throat and chest again, kissing and leaving biting nicks, “didn’t do nothin’ like this before right? Know ya were waitin’- but I got ya now. Relax, I’ll make ya feel good. Promise.” The idea that Tsumu knows something so personal about you doesn’t even cross your mind— though it should, more than the way his weight and size locks you in place under his strong, athletic body.

“No, no, I- Shin just broke up with me- and I-”

His expression darkens, eyes narrowing a little as he comes to hover over you, one hand brushing your cheek as the other wraps tight around your wrist. “Don’t say another man’s name when I got ya under me.” He takes a long breath, before descending on you, mouth to mouth, and then pushing his tongue into your mouth too hard for you to keep him out. You try to call his name, but he kisses you without regard, uncaring as he grips your face and makes a noise of agreement when you relax your jaw out of sheer necessity. “Ya’ve got no idea how long I’ve wanted ya, doll. Really, hah.”

His hand slides down your chest to start picking the shirt up your body, and though your rapidly rising and falling chest is exposed, his eyes stay sharp on you, and you can’t help but choke on your cries. He doesn’t look right. His eyes are wide and so sharp, mouth slightly curled as he forces your both wrists next to your head. “Thought I was gonna have ta kill ‘im for you ta finally give in, but-” He kisses you again, before the hand gripping your face snakes down between your bodies to grab your tits through your shirt as he repositions his thighs to lock your lower half in place under him. “Yer gonna be a good little thing for me, ain’t ya?”

“Tsumu,” you squeak, fisting your hands into his shirt by his shoulders, but it only makes him groan in response. “Let me go, I want-”

“You don’t know what ya want.” He takes a deep breath, before slipping his hands under the garment and brushing his thumb over your raised nipples, peeked from the cold air. “But I do. ‘N I’m gonna make ya beg for me so fuckin’ good.” He lets you go for a moment to take your shirt off with rough tugs, before staring again. “See, Samu said I should give it a rest. But how can I, when I knew you’d be the prettiest little virgin cunt ever? Hm?” He licks his lips, before leaning down to start kissing all over your tits, sucking and tugging at your nipples with noises that make you grow from the inside. A cold shiver rolls down your spine, and you find yourself pulling his hair despite yourself. Because it feels good, and heat pools low in your belly.

“Tell me ya want it. Tell me ya want me.” The fire that seems to glint behind his eyes takes you aback, and you try to scramble from under him, but he’s back over you before you get a chance to. Gripping your face and forcing you into another kiss, the taste of his tongue on yours, deep and heavy. “People here hate ya, don’t ya know that? Think yer a real bitch. That’s why no one wants to be yer friend.” He rests his forehead to yours, so that you’re basically breathing each other’s air, and hums. His free hand starts taking off the sweats he’s wearing in a smooth motion, leaving him hard in just boxers. “But I’ve been ‘ere for you.” Another kiss. “I’m good to ya, too.”

The room is so hot, and your brain completely thrown off with the mix of all emotions you’ve felt in these short few hours; and it has you all fucked up. Tsumu must know this, but he doesn’t care. And you take a few panted breaths, looking between your two bodies at the was your tits brush up against him each time you move— he’s so close. “So say you want it, or I’m leavin’.”

“I want it.” Your voice shakes as it comes out, eyes stinging, head floaty— it barely feels like you said anything at all. “I want you.” He takes that as all he needs before grinning, kissing your temple and shuffling off you to shove his boxers down his thighs, before grabbing himself by the base and stroking a few lazy pumps along himself.

“Here, kiss it,” he nods his head towards it, helping you up and then right back down so you’re on your hands and knees. You’re getting wet. Sadly, you didn’t exactly think to put on any nice panties, but Tsumu doesn’t care as he makes you lean in and down until you can rest your lips to his cock, and he makes another noise. “I know it’s kinda bad but- I’ve been wanting ta fuck yer face for years now. Put- yer tongue out.” The admission only makes you feel more hot and hazy, and you do as you’re told. “Ahh, mhm.” He tastes weird when he pushes the glossy head to your tongue, translucent precum coating your tongue, but he takes a few more pumps, then pushes you back over.

“But not now, I wanna fuck you first. Yer gonna let me fuck your tight, little cunt, right?” The plush in your face doesn’t hide the heat as it floods to your face, your belly, down your legs— and he manhandles your legs up to start peeling off your shorts and panties. You can feel the strings of slick as they connect your wet pussy and the fabric, and hide your face into your shoulder before he groans your name again. “Yer so fuckin’ wet, look atcha. Already a little cock tease, and I haven’t even done nothin’ yet.” Your hot, puffy pussy is revealed, and he swipes two fingers out to circle around the wet hole without hesitation, only pulling back to slot the digits in his mouth. He shrugs his shirt off and tosses it next to the bed, then comes to kiss you again.

“Ya taste that? That’s yer pussy gushin’ like a whore for me. Only me.” He kisses like he’s got something to prove, taking your mouth up until all you can think of is him, and the places where your skin seems to zap under his rough hands. Each touch leaving you more breathless than the next. And you’re forced to just nod along and abide, because you couldn’t ask for what you need if you tried. He plays with your tits while pushing first one prodding digit in, but soon pushes up with two. “Gotta- prep this little hole before I fill you up, right? That’d be the nice thing to do. Even though ya haven’t been very nice to me, babe.”

“‘m sorry- Tsumu-” you hold back a whimpering moan as he squeezes your tits hard and flicks your nipples, and his fingers slowly push into you. The wetness dripping down your slit and along your inner thighs is hot, and your body curves instinctively as he slowly slides in and out a few times, while the man above you chuckles.

“No, you ain’t, little minx.” His grin is still wide though, hiking your one leg higher to get a better look at the way your greedy pussy swallows up his long fingers and he fucks you open so easily. “S’okay tho, I forgive ya. ‘Cus I’m gonna get to fuck this pretty pussy first.” The slick sounds fill the room and sound so, so loud, and lewd, and yet, there’s still more noise coming from your throat as he goes deeper again and his thumb finds your puffy clit with a little hum. “Uhuh, that feel good? Look at you enjoying this. Didn’t you want me ta stop? Huh?”

“Hm,” you just answer, grabbing your own chest with one hand, his arm with the other. He’s so much bigger than you like this, so muscular and intimidating. You look between your bodies to watch his fingers bottom out, and though the stretch is a little uncomfortable, it’s mostly just really, really good, filling your head with fog. Tsumu’s thick cock twitches between his legs, and he leans in to kiss you again. This time pulling his hand back to slide it into your mouth instead, making you gag when his fingers hit the back of your throat. You taste heady, a little musky, and lick your lips for the thin thread of spit when he pulls back.

“Alright, say thank you, Tsumu.”

“-thank you, Tsum-” you parrot, and also freeze under him when he goes to reposition himself and his cock head pushes at your sloppy, wet slit. “Wait- condom-”

“Shhh, just relax. If you freak out it’ll hurt ya.” He places one elbow next to your head, and lines himself up better, before starting to push into you already, and your leg jerks. He’s really big. Too big, you think, trying to take a deep breath as he starts breaking open your slick walls and slowly moving back and forth through it. “Aghh, that’s- it, that’s it, thatsithatsit-” He moans loudly, pushing your cheek up and kissing you back long and deep, tongues messily tangling and tasting each other, bumping noses as he fucks in, and in, and in. It pulls every thought out of you, every fiber filled with electricity. The tightness is painful, but you don’t want him to pull back, and judging by the way he groans into your mouth, he won’t anyway.

“You’re crazy if you think I’m fucking my tiny virgin cunt with a condom,” he pants when pulling back, eyes blown wide. His hand pushes your knee up more to stare at where you’re connected, before pulling back halfway and fucking back in, and the pressure on your womb and belly is enough to have you whining out so loud it barely sounds human. “That good, huh?” He bottoms out again, feels so fucking deep inside you that you can feel him high up in yourself bumping against your walls, and it feels so good, so, so good your toes curl and your knees lock around him.

“Fuck,” you can just barely gasp, before he pumps into you again, and starts really grinding himself into you. Slick drips out of you with each thrust, and makes the bed rattle under his weight. His hair sticks matt to his forehead, his lip pulled between his teeth, and the wet slapping of his hips meeting your skin is so distracting. Everything aches. Everything feels so good. You can barely even feel the sting anymore, jerking on his cock like you are. “Tsumu, I-”

“Gon’ have ta wait, princess,” he suddenly chokes, “yer clamping down on me like crazy— fuck.” He lifts one knee to push your legs open more, and then just shakes his head as he starts speeding up. “Oh, fuck it, gonna fill you up first. So fuckin’ tight, god, fuck-” The heavy thrusts go more sloppy, rapid as he chases his own orgasm and squeezes your thigh hard, yanking your teary cheeks back towards him as you pant to slide a finger between your lips and dropping a glob of his own spit into your mouth like it’s normal. Groaning into your mouth, and fucking his fat cock so deep into you you see stars. “One experience at a time, right?”

“Ah, Tsumu- p-please, fuck-me more, more, touch- more.” Your head rolls back as he pulls your hips back into him again and again, before suddenly locking up, and feeling how hot ropes of cum fill you up and he pants out your name in between a string of swears that all melt into a long growled moan as he stills. Only for a second though, because he’s quick to pull out and roll you back so that your knees are by your head, and he’s on top of you. He strokes his cock a few times, watching the last of the strings of thick cum land between your thighs. “Tsumu-” you pant, and take a breath, and pout- all at once. Because he stares at the way his cum comes out of your sloppy hole, before pushing it back inside. “Ughn-”

“Oh, don’t worry, baby. I’m not done. Not even close.” He spits onto his hand before bringing two fingers back to your pussy, and his thumb over your needy, puffy bud. And you jerk, blinks stuttering as you moan high and needy. Can’t help it. “Yer gonna wish I was done with ya long before I let ya out of this bed. I’m not done playing with my pussy.”

[tocomplainfriend]

SEE!? THEY DON'T CARE!

TW: Rape, SA, Homophobia, Misogyny, Misandry

The specific censored word with "-", it's for my own reasons and comfort. It's not censored up and in tags due to filtering! Sorry if I made mistakes like forgetting of filtering or similar, I haven't used tumblr much before!

THIS IS A R-PE JOKE! THAT'S WHAT I HAVE BEEN FUCKING SAYING! ONE OF MY BIGGEST PROBLEMS WITH EPISODE 4 IS THE FACT OF "we want to write an empowering story about men getting sexually assaulted. Men victim don't get that attentio-" BITCH, YOU MADE MANY R-PE AND SA JOKES ALL THE FUCKING WAY THROUGH HELLUVA AND KNOW HAZBIN! You are the one making fun of scenarios where your male characters get assaulted or r-ped.

HOW TF DO YOU PRETEND TO BE SOOO ABOVE PEOPLE (INCLUDING VICTIMS OF SA AND R-PE) THAT'S EXPRESSED HOW THEY FELT ON THE EXECUTIONS AND WHO WORKED IN EPISODE 4. WHEN YOU YOURSELF MAKE JOKES ABOUT IT????? For some context, Sir Pent is trying to get with Cherri, but always deflects first in case she rejects him. He offers her a drink, but immediately says it's because he'll buy a drink for everyone on the club. Then he asks Cherri if they can have sex- and deflects back (a repetition joke) "Because I'll have sex with everyone here". Then he gets dragged into a room by other people, yelling wait and no! And the door closes as you heard him scream.

Out of context in the screenshot, you might even think it might be a serious scene where something happens to Pentious. BUT NO! IT'S BRUSHED OVER REAL FAST AND PLAYED AS "HAHA SOMETHING BAD HAPPEN TO SIR PENTIOUS AGAIN LMAOO"- it's the punchline.

Then at the end of the episode he gets out asking "Where is Cherri" (who btw is having sex with a random guy).

And please don't say "Well, he asked for it"- you know how you sound. The whole point of the joke is that he is trying to get with Cherri and failing astronomically. The point here is that he really doesn't want to have sex with a bunch of random people, but he has to do it because he is getting dragged into a room. (Again, Pentious is like Moxxie Their joke it's getting trashed and bullied by the world or people around them).

You made a whole episode about dealing with a male character's sexual assault, abuse or r-pe. Saying how much you respect victims, and your episode, it's just perfect about the topic. BlaBlaBla- no, you don't. You made all this jokes since HB season 1. This new joke was episode 6 of HH. You never acknowledge power dynamics, or coercion. You never acknowledge anything bad in your show.

Remember, as much as this shows go for LGBTQ+ representation and Queer media. As a ""Female lead show"". This jokes link back (not only to making fun of SA and R-pe itself, but to) homophobia and Misogyny. A scenario of where a man gets SA'ed or r-ped by another man or woman- leads to a scenario where the character is made fun of for not being "masculine enough" for being a victim or for not being able to defend themselves. In a scenario where this happens by a man to man, "It's funny because the victim is viewed as gay. As less masculine = gay and that's bad cause gay = weak and feminine and the idea of feminine = weak".

(There are a few jokes here and there, like Blitzo touching Moxxie's dick after making fun of him for having a baby penis.)

If you didn't notice, Moxxie gets attacked by multiple succubus, and that's apparently funny. KEEP IN MIND is not basic physical violence-no he comes out with lipstick kisses marks, the sounds effects are (ugh)... and Blitz tells him "Don't let them access any of your holes". In other concepts, I want to point out that the times when Moxxie is viewed as a bottom or feminine- he is made fun of. When Millie pegs him, he is made fun of because he is the man of the relationship, being implied as the bottom. When he wears the outfit of unhappy campers, he is extra objectified or made fun of even more than in any other episodes. He is also forcefully put on a dress in his wedding.

He is made fun of for being SA'ed for being uncomfortable scenarios:

These aren't jokes made by characters that "are bad because they are from hell". These are scripted jokes written by a person searching for the audience to laugh.

AND the reason why many audiences accept this jokes or even find them funny is because of some of these views (internalized or not) above. You'll also notice how all these jokes are directed at men (if you find an R-pe or SA joke directed at a woman in this two show, say something about it! POINT IT OUT!). People accept and write these jokes more because they care less about the idea of a man being a victim of such situation. More often than not- in the present, a woman getting assaulted or anything similar in any media gets noticed and called out. THESE JOKES OR THE NORMALIZATION OF SEXUAL HARASSMENT, ASSAULT, COERCION, OR SIMILAR TOWARDS WOMAN STILL HAPPENS!!!! There is an idea that men just tend to just want sex all times at any time. -And that a man getting SA'ed or r-ped by a woman it's just sex, cause "Why wouldn't you like free pussy". When it's a gay perpetrator is viewed as funny cause "that makes you gay or a woman" and that's apparently hilarious. Men can be r-ped no matter what. Men can be targets of all of these acts.

Remember that all the scenes of sexual abuse, harassment and r-pe in Poison are directed by the R2. Who, once again, is into r-pe porn- and they themselves said they are not an SA victim either. So remember, not even a victim trying to cope with their own R-pe or SA. This person draws and ships "R-pe ships", and tags it as "naughty men uwu" bullshit. Also, a person so obsessed with the character of Angel that they changed their name to Tony (Angel's real human name), make themselves look like him, and become a sex worker like Angel. They themselves looked at a comic of Val threatening r-pe and abuse on Angel as "thank good you have balls to draw something mean with these too, I was so bored" ???? (this stuff is in:) and cosplay and take photos of your Val x Angel ship

Congrats if you as a victim yourself thought that the scene with Angel was good. If it helped you be and feel seen. But remember the rest of the show, the hypocritical writers, don't care enough to view it as a serious topic to not joke about. Both HB and HH written by the same people (as in Vivziepop), take their sweet time to turn these topics into jokes.

What pisses off more, it's the trying to make yourself be viewed as a sensitive person about such topic. Make it seem like you are a savior for writing about it in such "serious, powerful and not sugar coded" way. But then you drop that on the fucking ground to make a joke about it when you are tired of pretending you are so good. If you were so informed of SA and r-pe, you wouldn't be making these jokes. If you knew how much SA male victims struggle to get viewed as serious or their stories taken into account-you wouldn't be this shitty.

God, you are so proud of the joke too.

My poor snake guy... one of the few characters that I like-

[spideyhexx]

mdni; tw cheating technically, coercion

awful awful thought of being someone that grew up with Coryo and post peacekeeper, you have a deeper relationship with him, only for him to be arranged to marry someone else and while he feels bad, while he wants you, he has too much pride, he’s keeping things shoved inside too much to showcase that he’s truly sad about it.

so he goes through with it and gets married to this other person and the night of the wedding, he comes to your apartment (which is below his) and he’s disheveled, his shirt mostly undone and he tells you he can’t perform for his new wife. He tried. And he just can’t get hard. So he’s come to you. To help him get excited enough he could go up and consummate his marriage. And of course, you’re pissed off, heartbroken and he knows but he tries to persuade you by telling you he’d spend days with you and just you still. That he needs you. He wouldn’t let you become a glorified mistress but you both know that’s practically what his words imply.

But he’s also implying that he wants you still and the tone of his voice, the pleading but also stern way he has about speaking gets to you. And you’ve missed him. Coriolanus knows he’s using your vulnerability against you but his pride is hurting. He misses you too, but he’d never say it outright.

He’d never tell you that when you do go through with it, rubbing your hand over his bulge and sliding your hand into his pants to stroke his cock until he’s hard enough, he gets so close to pushing you back on the bed and fucking you till his wife hears you screaming his name. He has the urge to reach over to see if you’re wet, to hold the back of your head and kiss the life out of you.

But it’s Coriolanus. He wouldn’t say it. He resists that urge and just nudges your hand when he’s ready. He resists kissing your head before he leaves your apartment.

[vilsoo]

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𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐘; 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘… Inspired by Universal Studios Halloween Horror Nights, indulge in sex and horror galore at our premiere Kinktober event, HORRORLAND! Would you dare venture our haunted houses, experience our exhilarating attractions, and uncover the scandalous, deadly mysteries of Horrorland?

OPENED OCTOBER 2023 🕸️

fandoms: jujutsu kaisen, fnaf, re4, spiderman atsv, codmw2.

⚠︎ Beware that event may be too intense for parkland guests and is NOT recommended for minors. Horrorland will explore darker and extreme contents that may be triggering. ⚠︎

ㅤ ↓ VIEW PARKLANDS (KINKTOBER MASTERLIST) ↓

MANEATERVILLE FRIDAYS🩸we feed your fear from the thirst for blood, flesh, and lust that terrorizes the handsome men in town! can you survive the vastly evil sensuality of maneaters, femme fatales, witches, and vampires?

𖤐 OCTOBER 6TH: ❝ SEASON OF THE WITCH ❞ starring GETO SUGURU (jjk)

“love spells aren’t enough to make you mine forever…”

⚠︎ CW: witch disguised as sex therapist, implied homewrecking, slight yandere, witchcraft, seduction, impersonation, bodysnatching, body/soul possession, kidnapping, eventual smut, horror/thriller themes.

𖤐 OCTOBER 13TH: ❝ MY GIRLFRIEND IS A SUCCUBUS! ❞ starring MICHAEL AFTON (fnaf)

“an insatiable lust for flesh, gore, and sex…!”

⚠︎ CW: established relationship, modern au, halloween setting, malewife himbo bf/girlboss demon gf dynamic, succubus!reader, revenge, murder, flesh eating, tentacle bondage, msub!michael.

𖤐 OCTOBER 27TH: ❝ LUST AT FIRST BITE ❞ starring LEON KENNEDY (re4)

“i’ve always wondered what you tasted like, your highness..”

⚠︎ CW: historical royalty au, duchess!reader, coercion so dubcon warning, seduction, hypnosis, eventual smut, bathtub sex, marking, neck biting, blood drinking, mentions of killing, loss of innocence, multiple orgasms.

ㅤ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

S&H CITY SATURDAYS🍷a dark and gloomy city bound to corruption, sin, and immorality known as the devil’s playground. lurking within these streets beholds the prurient reigns of terror that which may also arouse parkland guests…

𖤐 OCTOBER 7TH: ❝ DEATHGASM.COM ❞ starring SIMON “GHOST” RILEY, KÖNIG (codmw2)

“never go too far in the dark web…”

⚠︎ TW: dubcon, kidnapping, sadism, voyeurism, drugging, bondage, impact play, sex toys, livestream sex, manhandling, exhibitionism, forced creampie, double penetration, mind break, mask kink.

𖤐 OCTOBER 14TH: ❝ FREAK NEXT DOOR ❞ starring TOJI FUSHIGURO (jjk)

“i love watching you every night from my window...”

⚠︎ TW: noncon, drugging, stalking/voyeurism, murder threats, perverted neighbor, kinda yandere, forced cuckolding, minor gunplay, bondage, degrading, dark obsession, kidnapping, eventual smut, forced creampie.

𖤐 OCTOBER 28TH: ❝ BREAK MY MIND ❞ starring WILLIAM AFTON (fnaf)

“it is not your flesh that sustains me; it is your fear…”

⚠︎ TW: dubcon, mind control (glitchtrap virus), sadism, kidnapping, murder threats, fear play, manipulation, predator/prey dynamic, implied age gap, degradation, eventual rough smut, mentions of vanny mask.

ㅤ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

HALLOWEEN DAYS ❤️‍🔥 these dark woods satisfies those with teratophilia… deadly creatures preying on their victims, serving their lustful fantasies with wild, animalistic urges! your arousal and fear may provoke them further, so beware…

𖤐 OCTOBER 30TH: ❝ SATAN’S PLAYTHING ❞ starring SUCCUBUS!GOJO SATORU (jjk)

“you look so pretty getting stretched out like that…”

⚠︎ TW: dubcon, female!gojo satoru, tentacle trap in the woods, tentacle bondage, rough tentacle sex, mindbreak, double penetration, subplot from god’s whore, throat fucking, degrading, 1980s setting.

𖤐 OCTOBER 31ST: ❝ BLOODMOON WHORE ❞ starring WEREWOLF!MIGUEL O’HARA (atsv)

“your perfect little body is all mine to breed tonight…”

⚠︎ CW: established relationship, miguel in heat, rough sex, soft sex, marking, biting, possession, breeding, knotting, impregnating, degrading/praising, power struggle, multiple orgasms, semi-public sex.

ALL WORKS BELONG TO VILSOO © 2023 . please do not steal my kinktober prompts/works/themes! reposting any of my works outside tumblr that minors can access is strictly prohibited. will be cross posted on my ao3 soon.

[rottmnt-residuum]

Some Things You Aught to Know (this also the index)

“At the end of it all, what’s left of you?”

The long reaching ramifications of an alien invasion… it all starts here. After the Kraang were defeated, the boys have taken a back step from their usual activities to heal. Which has been surprisingly easy due to sudden lack of activity from their rogue gallery. At least, until Donnie disappears.

Hi! Welcome to the side blog that hosts my comic, Residuum. This little brain baby of mine was conceived in a dream my subconscious cooked up one night and then refused to leave me in the morning! Yes, yes, very interesting, but why is that relevant? Well, my darling reader, dreams can get really, really fucked up. As suuuch, this comic gets kinda, okay a lot, fucked up (￣▽￣|||)

So, this handy dandy pinned post is both the content/trigger warnings and where to find parts. The warnings do contain some spoilers for future installments, so I’ve put them under the read more. I do stress again that this comic is fucked, but to those who don’t read the warnings:

Probably don't read this if you're squeamish. It will contain a lot of, uh. Gore. Seriously. I'm not kidding around here.

This comic will not contain anything sexual, consensual or not. Nothing implied, either. (I can’t believe I have to say this, but no incest, and yes, I am kink-shaming you.)

Directory | F.A.Q.

Parts

Parts that have gore or the more extreme tw's will be red. Parts with mild-ish tw's will be yellow. Censored versions of extreme gore will be blue.

Read it chronologically: [censored gore] [full gore] (only works on desktop as far as I am aware. also! part 17 isn't showing up in either of the links, and i don't know why...)

[ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16 | part 17 | part 18 C - part 18 G | part 19 C - part 19 G | part 20 C - part 20 G | part 21 | part 22 | part 23 | part 24 | part 25 | part 26 ] - Arc I Complete

part 27 | part 28 | part 29 | part 30 | part 31 | part 32 | part 33 C - part 33 G | part 34 | part 35 | part 36 | part 37 | part 38 C - part 38 G | part 39 | part 40 | part 41 | part 42 | part 43 (no schedules; they are not helping right now)

(Updates every other Sunday at 3:30 pm PST) Update Progress: 22.5%

Content/Trigger Warnings

Subject to change, I’ll tell y’all if they change when I update. They probably won’t change much, but the creative process is annoying :)

Feel free to message directly for any reason, be it clarification or something else

Desturbing Imagery, Trypophobia, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Guns, Gun Violence, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Ableism, Coercion of Minors, Solitary Confinement, Contractual Slavery, Blood & Gore, Implied Death/Actual Death, Major Character Death, Animal Death, Animal Experimentation, Dismemberment, Disembowelment, Non-Consensual Medical Procedures, Irreversible Alterations, Cannibalism, PTSD, Anatomically Correct Organs, Lobotomy, Imprisonment of Innocents, Medical Experimentation, Body Horror, Police Brutality, Corrupt Government Institutions, Xenophobia

[inkblot22]

What's Worse?

I finally finished this. This unpostable thing. It's done and even if it's bad, I do not care. In the end, it ended up being 4k words and I'm okay with this. Header by @/cafekitsune

Who is this fic for? I tried to keep this one very neutral despite the many references to body parts, so anyone who can handle it is free to read! Keep in mind that pronouns such as you and they are used to refer to the reader. The reader is human and does have hair.

TW for coercion, noncon, dubcon, allusions to a physically and emotionally abusive dynamic, captivity, everyone is at least a little bit untrustworthy in this, mentions of the smell of blood, beastman-specific oddities and anatomy, violent and morbid similes. Just in case, I'd like to say that this is DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT. A lot of the stuff is more so implied than explicitly stated, but it's still there.

The day he moved up a grade and began his “internship” is the same day he took you with him. Sure, Grim came along, but you’re often so busy, or he’s often so busy, either way. So you haven’t seen your familiar in months, and your life is filled with Leona.

You don’t know why he did this, but the first night you were there, he tapped your uvula with his fingers as he orally serviced you so feverishly that you left teeth indent bruises on his knuckles from biting down so hard as you tried not to be loud. He wore them like jewelry, and you know his brother saw them. Everyone at the table knew what happened, because, according to Leona, no matter how often you shower, the way you smell will always give you away.

That was a little over six months ago. As far as captivity goes, it’s rather cushy. You stay within the confines of the Afterglow Savannah’s palace. Sometimes Leona gets a bit aggressive and you take it, but you’re fed, clothed, and possibly pampered. It could be worse. It could be far worse. You could be in the dungeons. 

You actually don’t know if this place has a dungeon, come to think of it. The last time you asked Leona, he asked you if there was an issue with the room you shared with him. When you tried to explain why you asked, he called you a “dumb herbivore” in a very fond tone of voice, then fell asleep. You didn’t try asking again.

It didn’t stop you from wandering. As it turns out, the Afterglow is mostly populated by beastmen… beastpeople? Aren’t all people beasts? Whatever, the point is, you’re basically the only person in the palace with muted senses. You often think back to Rook, wondering how he trained himself to use his senses so well. You tried to practice once, but Leona caught you hiding a  ball and chucked the thing out the window, telling you to find something better to do with your “skills.” You sure used one of your senses, at least.

Unfortunately, these “muted” senses, despite them being completely sensible for your human state of being, have led to some issues. For instance, when someone approaches you, you don’t notice until they’re within your field of awareness. Beyond that, according to Leona, Farena, Cheka, and Farena’s wife, you also tend to just reek of blood.

You have no idea why, and you’ve never noticed this before. You get out of the shower, having scrubbed hard enough to rid yourself of any dirt but not enough to create micro-abrasions on your skin, and Leona still complains about it. You play fight with Cheka, gentle enough that neither of you gets harmed and he’s giggly, and he pauses his mirth and wrinkles his little nose before asking if you got hurt. Zuri, Farena’s wife, regularly would stop you whenever she saw you, her eyes wide as she asked you if everything was okay. The palace staff didn’t say anything, but they’d constantly be re-filling your first-aid kit, one that was “gifted” to you and one that the staff and Kifaji (despite him being human like you, or maybe just not obviously a beastman) insisted that you carry at all times.

But out of all of them, Farena was the worst. If you were in Cheka’s nursery, even just seconds after the kid fell asleep, Farena would pop out of nowhere. If you lingered a bit too long in the kitchen or hallways, anywhere too far from Leona’s wing, he’d approach with a smile, his arms spread wide. If you came to the dining hall without Leona’ his glowing brown eyes would find you, the intensity akin to a sudden knife wound. His persistence in being around you was all blanketed by his uncomfortable implications when he spoke to you.

Even so, you happened to somehow get lost. The hallways are sort of color-coded, but you’ve passed this same hallway several times, enough for you to be okay with admitting that you’ve been walking in a circle for the past twenty minutes. And, much like the devil, as soon as you thought that if you were there any longer, a certain lion-man would appear, Farena popped up and scooped you into a hearty hug as greeting, your feet coming off the floor.

“Leona’s partner!” He never calls you by name. It’s always just that. You are Leona’s partner, not your own person, you guess, “I knew I’d find you eventually.”

“Yes. Hello, your highness.” You wheezed as he placed you back on the floor.

“Oh, you’re so prickly, just like my baby brother. You two are a perfect match- he does like a bit of bite.”

You rarely knew how to respond to him, so you often didn’t. You just stared at him, like a total moron, but he continued talking like you aren’t giving him the most anserine of looks- a word he has used to describe you before, basically to your face.

“I’ve heard that you forgot your first aid kit. We don’t need you tripping and scratching yourself on Leona’s dresser again, and not with an inability to heal yourself.” He never gave you time to answer, “Of course, I know you aren’t magic, but those of you without it have made some wonderful inventions to make up for that.”

“Oh. Yeah, I just left for, like, two seconds so I could return something to the kitchen.”

He nodded, thoughtful, still smiling, “Well, did you hit your head? You’ve been walking in a circle, and you didn’t even stop to say hi to me.”

“No. I, uh.” You cast your gaze down the hallway closest to you, then looked back at Farena, “I am a bit lost. I guess someone else is usually with me when I’m wandering around.”

Leona is not the only person in his family with a cunning streak. You are marginally aware of this, and when Farena’s eyes narrowed, you sucked in a breath.

“Hmm. You’re right, Leona’s partner. It is rather strange not to see you by my baby brother’s side.”

It struck you multiple times in the past that the amount of times you bumped into Farena couldn’t possibly be a coincidence. He’s a king, so why was he never ruling or whatever kings did all day? It was incredibly strange, and you made the same subtle discomforted motions like clockwork. He usually pretended not to notice whatsoever.

His grin was always too bright. You did prefer Leona’s smirk, “Very well. It looks like I’ll need to escort you back to Leona’s quarters, won’t I?”

“Uh. I mean, if you’re not busy.”

“You’re such a mousy thing. Come,” He offered you his arm.

You took it, and true to his word, he led you back to Leona’s wing, then straight up to the door. He knocked, and you ducked out of his arm to cautiously open the door. Leona strolled out of the bathroom, hair and skin wet, his eyes not even skimming over you before they flashed to his brother, who strolled in as though he owned the place. Maybe he did. Who owns a palace if not the king?

“Ah, Leona! I found your partner, wandering the halls like a lost lamb.”

As soon as the words process in Leona’s mind, his green eyes are sliding to pin you down. Your limbs feel like lead, and you don’t move or emote, lest he strike. He’s like a snake when he’s like this, which is ironic. Perhaps it’s not ironic, and just comedic. Who knows?

Regardless, Farena keeps talking, “And I missed you at lunch! What a shame. They had your favorite, you know. Meat! And lots of it. Don’t you ever get hungry, being in here all the time?”

If not for everyone talking about the way your skin smells, that comment could have been written off entirely. It didn’t feel great, being indirectly told that you smell like fresh meat, and Leona wasn’t helping much.

“Mmm. No. I don’t like my meat that rare.” Leona grumbles, taking a seat on his bed and waving you over. “Hey, c’mere and braid my hair.”

What was worse? Being told you smell delicious or being told you didn’t smell delicious enough? It was one of those things. You cautiously tied off his braids, capping both of them in beads that Cheka had gifted you. His hair was wet, clinging to his skin as desperately as the water did. You caught yourself watching a drop sliding over Leona’s tattoo and hummed softly. 

Farena was still talking. You didn’t hear the beginning, and you didn’t care about the end, so you completely tuned him out so you could finger detangle the rest of Leona’s wet hair. While you were ignoring Farena, you were pointedly all too aware of Leona’s sounds of pleasure. It took you a while to get used to it. You were a primate, and he was a lion. More lion than ape. He snorted and rumbled, huffed and chuffed, his face twisted in a scowl. 

“Ah, what a shame. I’ll have to speak to you later, Leona. Perhaps you could talk about those plans with Zuri. I’m sure she’d love to listen.” You tuned back in as Farena turned to the door, opening it before remembering himself and waving at you, “Bye bye, Leona’s partner!”

When he was gone, almost as soon as the door was closed, Leona twisted his torso to grab you around the waist and pull you into one of his kisses. You read somewhere that the reason men kiss so… wetly is so they can mark their partner. It makes more sense if they just didn’t want to kiss with dry lips, but you’re no kissing expert. Leona is not an exception to this, you supposed. He always licked his lips before pressing them against yours, slicked with his saliva and often accompanied by a quiet, barely perceptible growl. 

His kisses were dizzying. Possibly because it was difficult to breathe while kissing someone, and possibly because you were usually held in a crushing vice whenever he kissed you. Your poor ribcage had been squeezed many times. 

And just as soon as it started, he dropped you unceremoniously and stood up, walking past your sprawled body on his floor, “We’ve got some big dinner to get to. Get dressed.”

You scrambled to your feet, “Big dinner?”

“Mhm. It’s some official’s birthday. I can’t be bothered to remember who.”

That made enough sense. In the time you’d been here, you’d learned pretty quickly that it wasn’t exactly worth it to go out of your way to be remembered positively by everyone, especially not since you were… with Leona. In all the time you’d been here, you’d never been sure about what the nature of your relationship with him was, either. Asking would get you some kind of snarky or irritated answer, and not asking but thinking about it made it hard to focus on anything else, so you didn’t think about it.

“Oh. You see Grim today?” You asked while getting dressed in your own green and black dashiki, like a couple’s outfit in the matching pattern of Leona’s.

Like he always did, he stared for a moment before making a few small adjustments. It was funny, he couldn’t be bothered to care about his own appearance, and yet, when it came to you…

“Yeah, He’s good. Still working on the mage stuff.”

“Mmm. Okay. Thanks.” You mumbled, lifting your arms so Leona could look you over again, “What?”

“You stink like my brother. If we had time, I’d fix that, but…”

“What does he smell like?”

“Shouldn’t you be asking what I smell like?” He snapped, and you flinched. Sometimes his irritation came with physical indications, but heavier than the physical indications was the energy around him, “Forget it. Stay close to me tonight.”

You usually did. You hated parties here, but more than the parties themselves, you hated the strangers who came up to you and just said whatever. Last time, someone approached you and asked how big Leona’s wallet was for you to stick around. You’re learning to like nobility less, not that you particularly liked them before..

You’re tucked against Leona’s back for the entirety of the evening. He’s like a ward. People see him and walk the opposite direction unless they’re drunk or stupid, and those types are in short supply at the beginning of the night. Unfortunately, by the middle of the night, amongst sips of his drinks and nibbles of various finger foods, you felt exhausted and Leona was straight up pissed.

You wondered why for a bit too long. You barely even realized when you ended up back in his room, outside on his balcony. He was stewing, pouting like a toddler. You unstuck yourself from his side and sat in one of the chairs.

“Mmm.” He grumbled. He often did this, putting a noise to his emotion, but no words to explain himself. You’d wised up and figured out early on that it was best not to approach him for this type of thing, “Hey, runt.”

Uh oh. He tended to use that nickname before he did something foul to you. You squirmed in your chair and flinched as he turned around and yanked his shirt over his head. His pants went next. Leona didn’t bother with underwear.

“C’mere. What are you hidin’ in the corner for?” He mumbles, “We’ve got time now.”

Your uh oh gets multiplied. It’s not that you aren’t attracted to Leona, or that you’re not in the mood. It’s not that you’re terrified of him, not that you’re confused by his awkward libido. It’s that you honestly don’t know what he sees in you, sprinkled with a bit of relationship insecurity. You’re here because of him, you and Grim have a home because of him, but what’s going to happen when he gets bored with you? 

He looks over his shoulder at you sharply, “What the hell are you doin’? I said c’mere.”

You swallowed and took a few steps forward, stripping as you walked. The night air makes your skin tingle with goosebumps, your nipples hardening and a shiver rattling through you. It’s a very strong possibility that these feelings have beset you based only on the fact that someone could look up from Zuri’s garden and see you and Leona, both naked on his balcony.

 When you’re standing in front of him, he just stares, one of his hands ever so gently stroking himself. You think it’s funny, the phrase “playing with yourself,” because that is what it is. His fingers softly paw at his heavy balls, gliding up the base of his shaft to tweak the head of his cock under his foreskin. He doesn’t break his gaze on you to look at himself. The hand that is not busy with himself reaches out to grab your waist, just above the start of your hip, and yank you closer.

He’s not gentle. Not really. You know he has the capacity to be gentle, but he doesn’t really seem to care. In the past, when you’ve pleaded with him to be gentle, he’s told you that he would treat you like glass if he thought you were made of it, but since he’s seen you suffer worse (what is worse?) he doesn’t see the point in bothering. That doesn’t change the fact that his touch often hurts. Now is not an exception, and you make your displeasure clear with a soft noise of discomfort.

“Shhh. You wanna tell me what happened earlier?” Leona mumbles, pressing his face against the skin on your stomach, taking a deep breath and letting out a sigh.

You absolutely hate it when he smells you like this, but that’s not important right now, “Wh-what?”

“With Farena. You looked freaked out.” Leona ever so lightly kisses the pit of your bellybutton, “He do anything to you?”

You’re not a fan of Leona acting like this. While it seems like he cares, you know from past experience that he’s typically, if not always, on the brink of a jealous meltdown. His jealous meltdowns almost always end with you sitting alone in the bathroom, tending to your own wounds as he sleeps like a kid who just threw a tantrum. So you decide to give a simple answer before distracting him, at least for a moment.

You scratch the nape of his neck, since he doesn’t like you touching his ears, “He was just his usual off-putting self. Nothing else.”

Leona grunts and looks up at you, so you take your chance. You lean down, sitting on your knees, and press a mock-reverent kiss to Leona’s thigh. He’s surprisingly hairless, for someone who is more lion than ape. You suppose the same could be said for yourself, as someone who is more ape than lion. 

Leona’s unimpressed face slants into a smirk, and his hand that was previously fondling his genitals slides to cup your cheek, fingertips rubbing behind your ear.

Now that it’s right in front of your face, you wish that you hadn’t decided that this was the best option for distraction. You think maybe anything would be better than catching those barbs in the back of your throat. The little softly-curved nubs circling the base of the head of Leona’s cock flare out a bit, resembling one of those Elizabethan ruffs, tattered by the passage of time and reduced to the skeleton. They aren’t sharp, not truly, but they’re uncomfortable, especially when you forget that the more worked up Leona gets, the further they poke out and the harsher they feel. It’s similar to someone’s very carefully blunted fingernail and fingertip rubbing against your cheeks.

You try to suck up your carefully hidden disgust and press a soft kiss to the very tip of Leona’s dick, wetting your lips with his salty pre. Surprisingly, he doesn’t taste bad. You would think that his skin, his cum, would taste bitter and harsh, but it’s not the worst thing you’ve ever tasted. Perhaps that’s a silver lining in this wicked situation.

Regardless, a quiet grumble from him makes you snap back into the reality of where you are, and you figure you may as well get to work. You slide your lips down to his base, wincing as the spongy head of his member punches the back of your throat and his hand slides back to grip your nape.

“You trying to bore me to death, runt? You know I hate this teasing shit.”

That’s right. He absolutely loathes it. You bob your head a little more expeditiously, trying to ignore the slick mixture of drool and pre that is escaping from the corners of your lips and the ever-increasing strength of Leona’s thrusts against your face.

Despite your senses being the most dull in the palace, you can sort of hear the festivities downstairs, and Leona chuckles, standing with your head still cradled in his hand so he can actually start thrusting. It always begins with you trying to set a gentle pace and it always quickly dissolves into chaos. He’s lazy, but if he’s anything more than lazy, it’s a shameless pleasure chaser. You would think that you would have learned by now.

“You can’t hear them. They’re not at all concerned with me, they’re wondering where you went off to. But everyone knows that you belong to me, so they should know that you’re with me.” Leona mumbles. 

You gag, his dickhead wetly popping against the back of your throat as the fluids in your mouth froth with the speed of his motions, gooey trails roping down to cling to your cheeks and collarbones, connecting to Leona’s shifting hips. At least he doesn’t stink today.

A bug lands on your shoulder and flits away as you choke on Leona as he shoves his cock down your throat. Maybe you should feel a bit more grateful that this is happening partially outside, and that way you can have constant reminders that you’re still alive and not in some form of purgatory, serving time for your very minor moments of humanity when you were alive. 

Leona snarls, “You’re just so cute, with those lips wrapped around me. I wonder if my brother would keep flirting with you if he knew that you were like this in private.”

The implications of that statement are absolutely lost on you. You’re aware that Leona knows how you feel about your current life to a degree, but he doesn’t give a damn about your emotions. Whatever he’s talking about is absolutely just him babbling out some sex-addled nonsense. As the barbs scrape against your uvula, you gag and try to push his hips away so you can catch your breath for a second.

He doesn’t let up. Sweat is sliding over his skin, beading into crystal pearls and sliding down to flavor the skin in your mouth with their salt. If you don’t puke from his roughness, you’re going to puke from ingesting so much sodium. His smirk grows and his fingers massage the base of your head as if he isn’t pounding into your throat.

“Aw… too much? Maybe if you were a bit more active, I’d be done a bit sooner.” He coos.

You don’t fully hate Leona. He has given you somewhere to stay, food to eat, clothes to wear, for both you and Grim, but whenever he gets like this, taunting you even though he’s using you like a cheap sleeve, you feel an indescribable, hopeless anger. Regardless, you bring one of your hands up to the copious amounts of drool and pre and sweat that are covering your skin, collecting the goop on your fingers. You cup his ass with your non-gooey hand and spread that cheek, plunging a finger into his asshole and aimlessly crooking your finger.

His hips spasm, his hand fists into your hair and he lets out a low grumble, “Rrr.”

You slowly ease your other gooey finger into his ass and hope that he will cum soon so you can catch your breath. You need a shower, and he’s probably going to just go to bed after this. You’re more tired than he is, and you’re actually beginning to think that you both might be a bit tipsy. You need this to end, and you need it to end soon.

Your prayers are answered. You feel his cock bob in the back of your throat, the glans tapping that soft spot that makes you feel it in the back of your nose, and he yanks your head back, your lips releasing him with a somewhat loud pop.

His cum is hotter than it has any right being. You suppose since he runs hot, it’s not that shocking, but you’re also aware that the whole reason that the balls are not an internal thing is because the human body is way too hot for sperm to live for long periods of time inside of the body. This information is irrelevant, however, because Leona has just made the mess on your skin that much worse. You sigh as he lets go of you, flopping back into his chair and gesturing to his cock again.

“Can you clean me up before you go running off?”

You’d love to tell him no, to ask him to shove it, but you grunt your acquiescence and tongue-clean his messy skin, as if you aren’t covered in more slime than he is. Once done, you stand up and gather your clothes, placing them in the laundry bin in the bathroom and getting in the shower.

You scrub a little harder than usual, but not hard enough to break skin, not even enough to create micro-abrasions. Once out, you throw on one of Leona’s gaudy yellow tees and take a seat on the bed. He’s already curled up under the covers, but the soft tapping of his tail lets you know that he isn’t sleeping. You slide under the covers yourself and Leona rolls over, pulling your back into his chest.

“Hey.” He mumbles into your hair, “You stink like a fresh kill.”

What’s worse? Smelling like blood in a den of predators or being in the den of predators to begin with?

[kinq-sleazee]

18+| tw!bullying , coercion?, implied dubcon, college au

♔♕♚♛

Bakugo Katsuki is a bully. Your bully to be specific.

From the very beginning, he noticed you— all timid and meek. You stuck out like a sore thumb in the brashness of Yuuei. Most non-heroes jumped at the chance to interact with the graduating class “A” student but you always seemed to jump in the opposite direction.

He liked that. Making you nervous. Something about those cute watery eyes behind those glasses that made him want to do mean things you. Nothing too crazy, he is a hero after all.

“oi, transfer”.

Your back stiffened, hands clutching your book close to your chest. There weren’t too many people that’d be in the university library this late on a Friday night, but there also weren’t many people that took their coursework as serious as you and Katsuki Bakugo.

“hah ? ignoring me now ? i thought we were friends, kouhai?”

His hands were on you now. Big, powerful, hands. Registered weapons were casually resting on shoulders while he slotted his body behind you.

You could feel the condescension in his tone. In his grasp. It wouldn’t do well to upset him. Not when he was in one of his calmer moods.

“n-no bakugo-senpai, i was just distracted with this” you say, pulling the book into view.

Katsuki hummed, he expected as much. You were such a little nerd. Always with your head buried in a book. He knew exactly where to find you when he wanted to play.

He took the book from your hands, lazily thumbing through the pages while his chin rested on your head.

“y’know this theory is pretty tough. probably even harder for a quirkless to understand. I’ll help you when i get some free time”.

That was upsetting. You snatched the book to your chest and pulled away.

“I understand just fine. Thank you”.

You attempted to walk away but he spun you back towards your chest. He brought his hands to your cheeks, pressing your lips into a pout. His slowly palms heated against your face making your eyes widen.

“what a rude little kouhai…what’s with the attitude? m’just offering to help. is this how you treat your senpai, no your friend on his birthday?”

He didn’t actually want an answer. You could by the way his grip tightened. The smell of molten sugar singed your nostril as his palms grew hotter. He could sense your discomfort but he didn’t care when his dick was so hard.

“c’mon, kouhai. how bout we take this back to my place. m’pretty sure you don’t want to give me my gift in the middle of the library, right quirkless ?”

Silent tears flowed down your cheeks. It always ended like this. There was no point in fighting it. But, did you really want to ?

You shook your head as best you could and rose to your tip toes making the blonde smirk. He knew what you wanted and he wasted no time smashing your lips together.

Katsuki may be a bully. But he’s your bully.