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#violently executed now
alamgirdewanakashdac · 9 months
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A good plan, violently executed now, is better than a perfect plan next week.
ALAMGIR DEWAN AKASH AKASH DEWAN DEWAN ALAMGIR DEWAN AKASH আলমগীর দেওয়ান আকাশ আকাশ দেওয়ান দেওয়ান আলমগীর দেওয়ান আকাশ
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atopvisenyashill · 3 months
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my opinion on “does joffrey know about the incest” is that he honestly genuinely does not suspect a god damn thing UNTIL the big blow up when his father dies. the combo of ned doing All Of That when he’d previously been so politically inactive + stannis AND renly crowning themselves is all the confirmation he needs for all the weird shit he’s seen throughout his life to click into place but what EYE think clicks into place is “oh this bitch SEDUCED my WEAK and INNOCENT MOTHER from my AMAZING father????” and from then on he’s praying robb kills jaime before the war ends.
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When did you get into rvb and how?
I got into it around 2013 so I think when freelancer had just finished (according to my old amino account I had to check lol). I was in middle/elementary at the time so I had already known abt rooster teeth though stuff like achievement hunter but got super into them when the first season of rwby dropped.
I think I first just watched freelancer for Monty Oum’s animation (cuz I was too impatient for new rwby eps to come out lol) but didn’t end up watching the whole series until my rwby rp friends on virtual space amino invited me to a RvB rp so I finally just watched it from the beginning to learn the lore and ended up loving the show.
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xxcherrycherixx · 10 months
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You know the more i think about it the more i absolutely believe blondie lockes would be the one most likely to just straight up kill someone
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cosmik-homo · 1 year
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Me: oh, i like how two is written in this short story, even if its not perfect, I think the writer so far gets some eesentials people miss-
two: Stealing (rich people shit) Is Bad! dont break the law!
Me: sir OP arst thou an Idiot.
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timeisacephalopod · 2 years
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The perils of loving true crime content but hating when it veers into either Tough On Crime right wing reactionary content or Weird Gratuitous Descriptions of Crimes territory. I find the first far more than the second and it drives me nuts that anyone could think prison will solve violence when prison in itself is a wildly violent place that obviously doesn't work. If it did the US would be Squeaky Clean Crimeless and that ain't true.
Seriously though I love true crime content but these days have such a hard time finding stuff that gives the facts of the story plainly without deciding to advocate for ridiculous prison sentences and a bunch of other copaganda adjacent shit is surprisingly difficult and frankly says a lot about the way we discuss, conceptualize, and react to crime. Especially when a lot of crime is literally just criminalizing addiction, a mental health problem, so fully defending and uncritically advocating for the prison and policing system especially when true crime stories are more often than not stories of police incompetence is just baffling. And no just because true crime tends to mean violent crime that does not mean prison will solve the problem any more than it would solve an addicts addiction and frankly I don't even want an ideological slant I just want the damn facts without right wing shit being evangelized to me. Wonder how many people even notice this shit, because its so ingrained in true crime content that it feels like the only ones who notice are insufferable blue hair pronoun using leftists like myself.
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yther · 5 months
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I need an extra push, I need to experience this in a much more concentrated way. I need to do something that will make it impossible to even consider existing another minute. Fuck you.
Fuck you. Fuck all of you.
#please do me a solid and send horrible anons and tell me to kms or whatever 🍍🆗#I can't go back to a fucking hospital#I really have to find a way to be exceptionally violent against- myself? the one part that wasn't that hate and ugly#I can do this...I can do this. I CAN do this. I am physically capable of what I need to do and therapy is teaching me ways to trick fear#I can graduate my plan by having the motivation determination and ability to execute something For Once in my Fucking Life#it's just therapy skills it's just exposure it's the same discomfort#I already often feel this anguish and trying to outsmart my brain to do the thing... that's what I'm already practicing#the trick is that I will have a blank iron conviction so absolute so cold so empty so thoughtless that I can actually convince myself#that I won't be doing what I'm about to do..even though--#I have to psyche myself out the opposite way#god can you imagine the fucking relief of realizing I finally actually did it bad/good enough that it's too fucking late and there's nothin#I can do to save myself even if I suddenly really want to try#I just have to keep this scaffolding in myself#I just need to not look down?#I need to be okay with the mundane horror of another wasted life another tragedy that really had no deeper reason for happening - it's just#it's just. full stop.#always had the will power now I need to try with better ways#btw helium is a no go as of a few years ago with 02 filler making it insufficient so .... fuck why can't we have the nice things long enoug#things are too safe
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blkkizzat · 20 days
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YAKUZA!TOJI X MILF!READER —aka toji on some joe goldberg bullshit
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🎞️ 𝐒𝟏 𝐄𝟐:
⟢ rating: mdni 18+ stalking, yuji is yakuza!sukuna x reader child, toji is still delulu af, size-kink, milf kink, breeding kink, voyeurism, dilf!toji, dissociative sexual fantasies, sukuna is an asshole, masturbation, killing fantasies, obsessive tendencies, heavy manipulation, brooding, yandere fluff, cute kid megumi.
⟢ episode run time: 𝟖.𝟕𝐤 ⟢ episode list: m.list ⟢ subscriber access: please comment on m.list to be tagged, rather than individual episodes as its easier for me to track. ⟢ director's note: e2 is here!! sorry for the initial issues! i hope you guys enjoy as we go deeper into toji's delulu, it's so much fun writing from his perspective. i feel like with each epi he only gets worse, hfsvsdjkfhvbsdj. he's still daddy tho.
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The sky has since fallen completely dark, but the city lights of Tokyo still twinkle brightly in the distance, drowning out any stars. The light pollution still appears beautiful though, as a comforting beacon of civilization in the surrounding darkness.
The atmosphere, which had previously been so violently vibrant, has now quieted to a muted calm as the world slows down, whipping cool night air around Toji’s tense frame on his balcony.
However, it does fuck all to soothe the seared edges of his temper. 
Nor does the serene scene do anything to calm the heated exchange still taking place inside your condo.
Your domestic dispute with Sukuna fiercely rages on.
Toji savors the last few puffs of his cigarette before discarding it and quickly lighting another. Chain smoking is his last salvation, lest the persistent urge to protect you completely overtakes him and causes him to act rashly.
The current state of the organization had suspicions at an all-time high. Toji couldn’t afford that considering who he was dealing with and what all could come in between the two of you should he err from the plan. 
Closing his eyes, Toji manages to regain control by doing the one thing that never failed to pacify him—thinking of you, of course. 
Both the sweet poison and the bitter antidote to Toji, you do nothing but constantly plague his psyche. 
But perhaps it’s that he knows you need him as much as he realizes he needs you. 
Over the course of time he had watched you, it didn’t take long for Toji to conclude that you only chose to remain with Sukuna for the security he provided. Preservation and the obligations of motherhood were the only logical motivations you could have.
It was glaringly apparent that Sukuna didn’t love you. 
Even a blind man could see the truth of it.
Sukuna only visited you on rare occasions, when yakuza business took him beyond the central city limits, as Toji’s own surveillance and connections had revealed. 
And whenever he did show up, it usually led to arguments between the two of you. If you had indeed loved Sukuna at one point you weren’t foolish enough to hold onto any of those illusions now. 
Moreover, the subject of illusions—Toji had been privy to having many fantasies of you.
Weathering away at the stone around his heart he strived his whole life to build—only to then rebuild once again after his late wife—addictingly sweet visions of you so swiftly demolish the walls he set in place.
Toji allowed himself many hopeful images of what life could be like with you. 
A life of ease. 
That said, it would never be too easy. 
Toji is still a yakuza himself and he knew the organization would never let him walk away entirely. 
Nevertheless, his role was somewhat unique—an executive assassin was almost unheard of. Toji took on as many kills as he did as a way to numb and distract himself, not because it was required of him or he couldn’t pass it off to another. And ever since he’d laid eyes on you he had no desire to busy himself with anything other than you.
Toji takes pleasure in knowing he wouldn’t ever have to be away from you for long too. 
As it happens, he already owns a spacious five-bedroom home just outside Tokyo in Chiba—the previous home he had hoped to share with his late wife. Toji had planned to surprise her with it once she left the hospital.
Yet instead of leaving the hospital with Megumi’s mother by his side, Toji had walked out alone. Numbed to the world, his hand had gripped the sleek black urn that had mockingly held her remains—along with his shattered hopes.
And as a result, no one had even crossed the threshold since the purchase was made.
But that would change though now that there would be the four of you to breathe life into the home.
Who else could give you that kind of life but Toji? 
Certainly not Sukuna.
Toji would give you everything if you let him—but you weren’t an easy conquest, something he learned quickly as you prove it to him time and time again.
Toji recalls your second encounter with a sharpened clarity. It had taken him only two weeks to meticulously study your habits. The encounter had been carefully orchestrated, but despite his planning, the day hadn’t quite unfolded as Toji anticipated to say the least.
Parked down on the block of your typical walking path, Toji sat in his blacked-out Mercedes, keeping an eye on his rear-view mirror monitoring your approach. The mirror also showed Megumi, who was peacefully dozing in the backseat.
Heh, yeah he’d made damn sure to have the kid with him back then too.
Hardly older than 18 months and already a lady-killer, Megumi never failed to melt the heart of any woman who laid eyes upon his abundant chubby-cheeked cuteness. 
Not like Toji had ever really needed to expend the effort before now. He knew just a mere look from him could get panties leaking, but you’d be harder to conquer than that. 
Toji would enjoy taking his time, which if he thought about previously he would have deemed odd—he’d never been one to hold himself back or take his time with a woman.  
Not anymore. 
Not since her at least. 
But the agony that had accompanied thoughts of his late wife had dulled considerably since he’d first started observing you. 
A bonus of that being it no longer hurts as much to see Megumi—not when he would picture you rocking him in your arms.
Toji had even gone so far as to believe that she would have approved, that she would have liked you. He imagined she would have gladly chosen you to take care of both Megumi and him if she’d known you.
A familiar form appears in the rear-view mirror and Toji knows it’s game time.
Here you were, a reward for his diligence in tracking your habits, right on schedule.
Your features sparkled in the summer sun as you pushed Yuji along in his stroller, humming a tune while the child giggled along clapping. 
The kid’s bubbly deposition had to come from you, Toji decided—surely none of it could have come from, nor been influenced by, Sukuna. 
Toji wondered if you could even make a somber child like Megumi smile.
Biding in-wait until you passed, Toji snatched up Megumi and kept far enough distance so as to not alarm you of his presence. 
His original plan had been to exit the car as you passed by and walk into the store together. But that all changed when Toji got the first glimpse of what you were wearing. 
Toji would avoid being noticed by you, but your attire made it near impossible for him not to notice you.
The dress you wore was barely made modest enough to wear in public by the cardigan you draped over it. A less curvaceous woman could have likely pulled it off without turning a head.  
However on your body, the way the thin loose fabric hung off your shape as it clung onto the moist areas of perspiration like a second skin—was fucking obscene. 
Especially as despite your continued efforts, the crack of your ass kept gobbling up your sundress no matter how many times you subtly tried to yank it free.
Toji bet your ass could swallow his cock up just as well. 
Damn.
Toji wished the walkup to the store was longer. 
He’d never been one for prayer, but he would have started if whatever God deemed it fit right at that very moment to send an unanticipated gust of wind. 
Your lack of panty line had his mind racing as to whether you wore a thong or were just slutty enough to be outside bare-assed in a short sundress mid-afternoon.
The green of your sundress matched his eyes too and Toji took it as another sign from the universe, he was on the right path by pursuing you like this.
You were doing this intentionally just to tease him, weren't you? 
Hoping he’d see you like this and to tempt him into taking a peek, right?
Entering the grocery store, Megumi seated in-cart, Toji continued tailing you as you shopped.
True to the homemaker he previously confirmed you to be, you picked up mostly fresh produce, prime cuts of meat from the butcher, and some pantry baking items. 
You were capable of more than just the frozen dinners he’d be more accustomed to if not for his Nanny’s cooking. She was a decent enough cook too—but she wasn’t you. 
Nothing she cooked smelled a fraction as good as the mostly foreign, but appetizing, smells that wafted from under your door to fill the hall with warm spices.
The food you would make him, once Toji gets you settled in your new home, would definitely be much better. 
You were truly perfect, well nearly so.
After tailing you down a few aisles, Toji suspects the one minor flaw you may have is you appeared to be the absentminded type. 
How else could you be disregarding his overbearing presence as he continuously had put himself in your line of vision? Restlessness overtook Toji as he waited for you to look up and catch his eye, giving him a casual opening.
You had been too consumed with your phone to notice his attempts— which if he would guess, wouldn’t be successful anytime soon. 
Grumbling, Toji had to take matters into his own hands if he wanted to shop with you at all.
Easy enough too, you were already so carelessly distracted.
Momentarily taking his eyes off you, Toji calculated how long it would take you to reach the end of the aisle. So as you moved from one aisle to the next, he casually nudged his cart into your path, creating a T-bone collision that made it look like you were at fault for leaving the aisle.
The bang was jolting enough to finally draw your attention.
“OH MY GOD! I WASN’T WATCHING WHERE I WAS GOING! I’M SO SORRY– I-I …Fushiguro?!”
Heh, took ya long enough to notice. 
“Well, hey doll. Long time no see, ma.”
A flagrant lie. 
Toji had seen you nearly everyday—you just hadn’t seen him. 
He could tell you were flustered and embarrassed as multiple heads in the store had turned towards the two of you from the rattling collision. 
You couldn’t apologize enough to Toji who was on cloud nine from your attention focused on him.
And as Toji had predicted, your attention was soon stolen by the black spikey haired baby boy seated in his cart.
“Oh wow Fushiguro!!—” 
“—Toji, ma.”
A smirk bloomed across his features as you rolled your eyes at him, continuing your affections towards Megumi.
“—I remember you said you had a son but I didn’t know you had a little mini-me, he’s so adorable!”
Toji didn’t fail to notice the double—no triple, take you had given between himself and Megumi. 
He also couldn't help but see how your big ass tiddies looked—like they wanted to bounce right outta that sundress and into his mouth—as you bent down to get a closer look at Megumi. 
No bra too?
Oh, you’d surely be the death of him.
But Toji's cock wasn’t the only part of him swelling, his heart rate sped like crazy just from watching you fuss over Megumi so apologetically—much like a loving mom soothing her own child at the sight of him sniffling back tears. 
For a moment, Yuji’s giggling drew Toji’s attention as the boisterous kid seemed to think it was some sort of ride. Needing no comfort at all, Yuji merrily squealed with laughter at the impact, continuing to stuff rice puff snacks into his little face.
The distraction kept Toji from warning you not to pick up Megumi and before he Toji knew what was happening— you scooped Megumi up. Settling Megumi into your arms, Toji noted you cradled him with the same joy radiating from you as you did Yuji—and much to Toji’s shock—Megumi let you.
It went without saying that Megumi wasn't the friendliest kid. 
Toji suspected he had inherited that from him, along with his trademark scowl. The little terror was known to pitch a screaming fit if someone other than Toji or his nanny picked him up. 
However, in your hold, Megumi appeared calm—angel-like even—as far as Toji was concerned.
More curious than upset, Megumi's tears dried at the corners of his eyes as he reached out to gently bop your nose with his tiny fist.
“Aye! Manners, kiddo.”
Toji chides Megumi, but inside he is amazed by the interaction. 
Returning the gesture, you softly boop Megumi's nose with the pad of your finger, causing him to grab it in defiance, as you offered him softly whispered apologies for upsetting him.
This served to confirm in Toji’s mind the place you belonged in his life. 
He couldn’t be wrong about you. 
You were perfect.
Everything was aligning better than he could have hoped for.
“No harm done ma, Megumi can take a lick. Just like his daddy.” 
You shook your head at Toji and gently rubbed soothing circles on Megumi’s back, cooing at him.
“Oh? So you’re growing up strong like your daddy, huh, Megumi?”
Megumi tilted his head slightly, his thumb resting gently in his mouth.
“Just don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re smooth like he does.”
You shot Toji a teasing smirk, immediately resulting in a half chub pressed against his suit pants.
Now you were… teasing him? 
Oh, you had no fucking idea just how smooth Toji could be when he wanted. And Toji planned to put 3 more kids inside of you soon too, just as smoothly.
Those facts withstanding, Toji could tell his son hadn’t quite made up his mind about you yet. Megumi just blinked at you, but the fact that he wasn't screaming his head off was good enough for Toji.
“Don’t let the blank stare fool you, ma, he likes you. Trust, ya would know if he didn’t. Just takes him a while to warm up to most folks.”
You gave Toji another playful smile.
“Hmm, and wonder who he got that from?”
Primal urges surged in his veins as Toji wanted nothing more than to grab you in his arms at that moment, although Toji settled for countering with a smirk of his own.
“We’re not that bad ma—once you get to know us.”
Toji flashed a toothy grin at you, amused by the upward pull at the corners of your lips as you tried and failed, not to be entertained by him. 
You gently set Megumi back down in the cart, smoothing down his onesie and safely buckling him in before turning back to Toji.
“I’m sure Megumi is a perfectly sweet kid, who just needs to come into his own a bit.”
“Eh? And whadda ‘bout me, mamas?”
“The jury is still out on you—Fushiguro.”
“—Toji,” he corrected once again—and again you responded by rolling your pretty eyes under those long thick lashes of yours.
Oh, Toji had just the thing for that ass since you liked to roll your eyes back that much. 
Toji imagined how deeply they’d be lodged into your head once he stuffed you full of his fat cock—all in one go—effectively pushing your guts up into your chest. 
Yeah, he had it bad for you—real bad.
Unable to stop the many intrusive sexual thoughts that would spring in his mind just from being close enough to smell the scent of your sweet vanilla and jasmine perfume.
Yet Toji couldn’t let the chance pass to press his limits with you.
“So—How about ya give me y’er number so we can set up a playdate, eh? Since ya think Megumi’s such a sweet kid and all, mamas.” 
Caught off guard, you looked away from Toji in contemplation, chewing on your lip.
“Hm... I-I don't think that’s such a good idea, Fushiguro.”
You shift your stance a bit, taking on a defensive posture. 
Tch, fuck. You’d be harder to crack than Toji originally thought. 
Plus you seemed to still have some loyalty to Sukuna, even if you held no love for him.
But that was all fine, Toji calculates—a good thing even.
That just meant you would be all the more loyal to him once he did have you.  
Thinking on his feet, Toji subtly switches tactics, playing dumb as he lifts a brow.
“Toji, doll, but ya know what I do for work. Think I gots time to be babysitting brats? What, s’not a good idea for the nanny to bring Gumi by?”
“Oh! Of course the nanny! Yeah that’s fine, erm, that's… sorry. I thought—”
“—thought, what mamas? You tryna get a playdate with me too? ”
Toji couldn’t hold back his laughter as your eyes widened in shock. 
Embarrassment washed over you like a tsunami, intensified by Toji's teasing. You hid half your face with one hand while the other gripped the grocery cart handle so tightly that Toji half-expected it to snap off.
“Kiddin’ ma—lighten up a ‘lil eh? Ya left y’erself wide open for that one, doll.”
Sighing in defeat, you finally conceded to his charms, exchanging numbers with him solely so his nanny could coordinate the playdates.
“I see you think you got jokes, Fushiguro.”
Toji relished the win as your smile returned. 
“Ya know I do—and it's Toji, mama.”
With that shift, Toji was pleased to see you gradually lower your guard around him, the ice between you started to melt. You continued your shopping together, Toji casually picking up a few items, occasionally seeking your advice on what to feed Megumi.
Truth be told, he had no idea. The nanny always handled all the shopping.
Subtly taking the lead in the conversation, Toji casually provoked you into revealing more about yourself. Details he couldn’t piece together—like where you grew up, what your life was like before Japan and what brought you here—all which he cataloged meticulously in his mind. 
Toji wanted to ask how a smart girl planning to be a doctor with a full-ride exchange program scholarship to Tokyo University got knocked up by a dumb fuckhead like Ryomen Sukuna—but the very last thing he wanted you to think about when you were with him was Sukuna.  
However, each piece of information he learned of you convinced him more of how much he wanted you—
“Oh yeah, Fushiguro! Despite what you said, I actually managed to make a friend!”
–all to himself.
Tch, a fuckin’ friend?
Toji’s demeanor darkened, but you didn’t notice—too busy humming to yourself while checking apples for bruises in the produce section.
Not like this information came as a particular surprise to him, Toji's eyes narrowed as he could guess exactly who it was right away.
Toji had seen the tall raven-haired woman whose afternoon jogs in the park so-conveniently aligned with your walks with Yuji. You both would exchange pleasantries as she admired your son, and you her commitment to fitness, that you would say you never seemed to have the time for these days. 
Yet your interactions from what he had seen never ventured much beyond that. 
Although Toji would normally oblige you a few friends, having a friend here would complicate his plans.
The women of The Nursery up until now had done such a good job in isolating you all on their own without him having to lift a finger. Toji was relying on their catty caste system to ultimately drive you into his arms, as the only person you could rely on.
Toji couldn’t have one of them ruin that. 
He needed to know more about this ‘friend’ of yours. 
How well have you gotten to know each other? 
And in what ways?
The fact that this development happened right under his watchful eye, without him knowing the depth of it, had Toji cross to say the least.
Thankfully, your isolation had you starved for an attentive ear, so you were eager to spill your guts about your new friend to him. 
And as the good future husband he’d be to you, Toji was sure to listen now as he would in the future—or at least appear like he was most of the time.
“She’s new like me! Well, not new I suppose, but back for a stay here with her fiancé until things calm down due to all the commotion happening overseas now.”
So that woman did intend to leave. 
Good. 
The sooner the better so Toji’s own hand wouldn’t have to be forced and your little ‘friend’ could be spared. 
Toji couldn’t have anything or anyone coming in between the two of you—no matter the consequences from who they were.
“She doesn’t have any kids so I’ve been giving her tips and sharing how I dealt with Yuji this past year. She always seems to be busy though, so we haven’t really had the chance to really do anything—but she calls me often.”
Toji’s teeth clenched. 
They dared to make phone contact even?
And bad girl—you’d been so eager to give this stranger, who had no respect for boundaries, your number but you hesitated with him?
What did Toji need to do to show you he was the only one with your best interests in mind?
Toji was the only one you should have confided in and the only one you should trust.
“Heh, well isn’t that nice, ma.”
Toji would have to figure out how to deal with the problem of your new friend at a later time. He didn’t want to spend the fleeting moments he had remaining with you brooding, as it was sure to soon show on his face and sour the mood.
Pivoting the subject back to just the two of you, Toji inquired about the baked goods he’s still owed. He could tell you’d forgotten already, but he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity he had to taste your cooking. 
It would keep him sated long enough until he could actually taste you.
“Ya know, I usually don’t like sweets though.”
Toji told you when you asked his favorite dessert and you were genuinely determined you could bake him something he’d like.
“Hmm, you know I can make a mean fudge brownie! I make them with semi-sweet chocolate too. Plus, since I moved here I also cut some sugar and added matcha to the recipe, so they wouldn’t be too sweet. they are so gooey they melt in your mouth.”
“Heh, yeah—I bet you would too, ma.”
This time, you didn’t suppress your amused cackle as you shook your head and pushed your cart forward, still overall ignoring his persistent flirtations even if you were growing more comfortable with them.
Toji sensed the playful personality you’d kept tightly wrapped under all those layers from being with Sukuna, whose cruel sense of humor would only serve to crush yours. 
Toji couldn’t wait to be the one to fully draw it back out of you.
“Ugh—boy, you play too much, Fushiguro!”
Toji chuckled, pushing his cart along after yours—he could tell your cheeks were still burning though. 
“—Toji, ma.”
When you both finally reached the register, Toji checked out first, slyly sliding his card to cover your groceries as well.
You were completely unaware though, having left your cart with him in line while you rushed Yuji to the bathroom.
Yuji, being the growing boy that he was, had devoured his rice snacks too quickly and promptly spat them up all over himself.
Feeling smug in his chivalry, Toji anticipated seeing an even sweeter smile when you returned to find your groceries already paid for.
Yet, he’d seemingly made another miscalculation with you. 
As when you returned to see your groceries bagged and paid for, you kept Yuji in your arms as you placed your bags of groceries in the stroller itself, storming out without a word leaving behind a dumbfounded Toji.
Toji was more than puzzled as you seemed furious at the fact Toji had done what he deemed to be ‘a-nice-thing-any-woman- would-want’. 
The fuck happend?!
Shifting Megumi and own bag in his arms, Toji swiftly pursued you. 
“Oy, mamas!”
You ignored him but Toji wouldn’t give up on you easily, or at all truthfully. 
You didn’t realize that yet but Toji figured you must have gathered he was bullheaded enough to keep following you until you acknowledged him once you abruptly stopped and whipped around to face him.
“What, no ‘thank you’ f’er me, ma?”
Toji watched your nostrils flare as you angrily snapped at him.
“Thank you?!” 
God, you were beautiful—even pissed off. 
Toji knows he should be more focused on what you were saying in the moment, as you heatedly  gave him a piece of your mind. However, Toji zoned out momentarily, unable to quiet his internal thoughts that screamed to him how pretty you were with your brow furrowed and cheeks puffed in indignation. 
“... and furthermore you think you can just buy me, is that it?! That just because I have to rely on Sukuna and accept living in a building full of side hoes to give Yuji a comfortable life that I’ll just giggle and go along with anything like the rest of those bitches?!”
Shit. 
You were actually pissed. 
Ah fuck. 
Toji had greatly underestimated your self-worth. Once again, you proved him wrong—and once more, that pleased him. It further highlighted how you were in fact a pearl among The Nursery pigs.
“Uh, Fuck mamas, er–I-I…no–”
Yet you proved to be such a wildcard that you had Toji of all people stuttering as he scrambled to find the right words to appease you.
“—then what?! Say something!”
Toji had to think fast. 
He could see how it looked bad now, but in a rare form from his usual nature, Toji’s intentions had been honest. Toji just really wanted to show you he had the means and could take care of you—not to buy you. 
Nonetheless, Toji really only had himself to blame as he’s sure you’ve heard of his far less than pious reputation. 
Ostracized or not, the bougie women of The Nursery were terrible gossips and he was sure you’d overheard plenty less than savory information about him. 
Of course, with all things considered, you’d assume the worst of him.  
But Toji had never even bothered to learn any of those bitches names, much less buy them anything—they would give him gifts.
In this situation though, to quell your anger and regain your favor, Toji devised a quick lie, hoping it would smooth things over.
“Tch,” he began, scratching the back of his head and awkwardly looking away from you.
He had to be sure to sell it. 
“No, it’s just ah, the guy—er, the teller. He assumed we were together.” 
Toji shifted his stance, readjusting a drowsy Megumi in his arms.
“So, you told him we were…?” 
You raised a brow, huffing but you didn’t seem as angry as before. Toji saw your eyes soften a bit, distracted by a cute lil yawn from Megumi who sleepily burrowed his face deeper into his shoulder.
Good kid, lookin out for y’er old man, aye Gumi?
Seeing how Megumi was disarming you, Toji knew this was his chance at redemption. Like a gentle giant, Toji’s large hand dwarfed his son’s small head with affection pats—an action he had picked up from observing you.
“Not exactly—but I supposed it looked that way, ma. What with the kids n’ya leaving all y’er shit with me n’all. Easier to just pay then explain.”
Toji continued before you could say anything, seeing as you didn’t look quite convinced.
“Trust me, from all of what you told me today, I know ya can take care of y’erself mamas… even if you are with that asshole.”
You regarded Toji with a scrutinizing gaze for all of a minute, yet that minute felt like hours to him. 
He couldn’t remember feeling this uneasy ever—and being in the Yakuza put him in several situations in the past he thought he wouldn’t make it out of. 
“Fine,” you resigned with a sigh, “It’s whatever then.” 
Seeing that you had set aside the words you originally intended to scold him with, Toji felt that this was the best possible outcome he could have hoped for.
Well shit, bullet dodged.
“Uh yeah, well…I’ll see you around then Fushiguro—”
Toji couldn’t just let you leave like this, on uneasy terms with your frustration still evident.
“—Wait ma!”
And even more so as Toji stopped you once again.
“Look…I ain’t too big to admit I fucked up, mamas. Let me make it up to ya, yeah? Give ya a ride back so ya don’t hafta walk back in this heat?”
Toji knew you wanted to reject his offer out of pride, but he was serious now—there was no fuckin’ way he was gonna let you walk back. 
Your load of groceries was way more than your usual trips, and on top of carrying Yuji, a sizable boy for his age, your purse and pushing the stroller would turn a 15 minute walk into a 25 minute one easily. 
The scorching summer sun perched high at its peak at this time of day and the thick, near suffocating, humidity could easily turn to heat exhaustion—especially for a young toddler.
He knew you knew that too.
You’d have to accept, per Toji’s calculations.
And you did.
“Okay, why not...” 
Yet the reluctance was clear in your voice. 
The ride back began uneventfully, yet the calm atmosphere inside the car was tinged with awkwardness. 
Megumi was snoozing in his car seat, while Yuji sat on your lap in the passenger seat. 
Despite the lingering tension, Toji could see the relief on your face. The transition from the sweltering heat to the cool comfort of his air-conditioned Mercedes had clearly brought you much-needed respite.
The domesticality of it all was something Toji didn’t realize he would miss as much as he did, and it pissed him off that it was something Sukuna of all people had and took for granted. 
However, when Toji glanced over at you, he tightened his grip on the wheel with both hands.
Your actions were purely innocent as you entertained Yuji, bouncing him on your knees. However, the movement caused your sundress to lift and bunch damn near to your hips. 
Toji swore he could feel the steering wheel crack under his grip as he fought the urge to slide a hand onto your thigh, or at minimum over his soon-to-be-bricked-up cock. 
Fuck. Get it together. 
But there was nothing Toji could have done to stop his dissociative daydreams, which had grown increasingly vivid since laying eyes on you, from consuming him. 
The sleek hardness of the leather steering wheel morphed to be malleable like the inner flesh of your thighs. Toji gripped the wheel tighter, which only made the visualization of how soft your skin would be in contrast to the texture of his calloused hand more apparent. The same hand which would so graciously sink into the warm plush of your skin with reassuring squeezes. 
Finally, Toji would also get his answer as to whether or not you had been wearing panties. Toji’s wandering hand would only need to travel up the tiniest bit higher to press his knuckles right against your core.
And when it came down to it, whether you had them on or not mattered little to Toji—regardless of the result, he still intended to bully his thick middle knuckle directly into your clit. 
Toji would take satisfaction in keeping his main attention on the road as he engaged you in casual conversation—all the while drawing slow absentminded circles around your bud. He would only pause if he felt the lil’ thing swell up enough—to the point where the soft clicking sounds from your slick could be heard if there wasn’t music playing. 
He’d edge you with subtle, yet incessant, pleasure all the way home. Seeing just how much of his teasing your messy cunt could handle.
Toji's mind was stuck so badly in-between your thighs that he’d actually been caught off guard when you finally broke the silence, eagerly asking about his playlist as “How Do U Want It” pumped through the car speakers. 
And that's how Toji managed to worm his way back into your good graces.
You seemed genuinely surprised to discover he was also a fan of ’90s hip-hop when he told you he was. 
Of course, being a fan of ’90s hip-hop wasn’t a lie—but he had heard this particular song playing from your apartment before, so he made sure to add it to a playlist for whenever he’d be able to get you into his car. 
Much to Toji’s enjoyment, before long you were laughing again as he attempted—very, very poorly—to rap along to some of the lyrics in English. 
Pleased to have won you back over, Toji purposely missed at least two turns just to keep you in his car a bit longer.
If the day had ended there, he would have considered it a win. 
But, of course, with his luck, things would prove to be anything but victorious.
Naturally, once you both returned, Toji carried your bags upstairs. However, that didn’t stop him from playfully teasing you.
Toji joked that—‘Miss Independent didn’t want him paying for her groceries, but she sure as hell didn’t mind him carrying them’—and was rewarded again with the soft snorts of your laughter.
It’s not like you didn’t have your hands full though, cradling both Megumi and Yuji, who were now fast asleep—one on each of your shoulders.
It was…cute.
Fuck, when even was the last time Toji even thought something was cute? 
You were cute though, especially with the kids. 
That he didn’t mind admitting. 
Toji regretted that he didn't snap a picture of the moment. He knew it would likely be over soon.
Heh, maybe it didn’t have to be though.
With both boys asleep in your arms, Toji considered the likelihood of coaxing you to invite him in. You’d surely need help carrying both Yuji and your bags inside—but he didn’t want to push his luck, especially after he had already majorly fucked things up with you once today.
Although, Toji realized you wouldn’t need any convincing when you looked at him with a kind smile that reached all the way into your bright eyes. That was all the encouragement he needed to step across the threshold, technically uninvited, as he held the door open for you.
Toji would have entered too, had the energy not immediately shifted. 
“—and just what the fuck is this?”
Motherfucker.
Down the hallway, Sukuna had since stepped out of the elevator with his right hand, Uraume, close behind. Sukuna appeared already agitated, barking rushed orders over the phone. 
But Sukuna abruptly ended the call the moment he saw Toji about to enter the condo with you. And as if he owned the entire building himself, Sukuna exuded obnoxious dominance in every stride as he approached. 
Toji may have outranked him but Sukuna rivaled Toji in both size and presence, sauntering over to loom behind you with an unmistakable air of possessiveness.
Tch, Sukuna shouldn’t even be here. 
Toji had miscalculated—a rare miscalculation, but a big one nonetheless—what he gets, he supposed, for trusting a less than meticulous intel source. 
According to his, now incorrect intel, Sukuna was supposed to be in Shinjuku at headquarters. The fact that he was here, interfering with his time he had so meticulously planned with you, infuriated Toji. 
Shit—he hadn’t wanted Sukuna to see you two together just yet.
Despite Toji being unable to hide his disdain, he offered a respectful nod to Sukuna, as was customary between fellow upper-ranked yakuza. 
Sukuna returned the gesture in-kind, along with a smug grin that had plastered itself across his face.
Tension saturated the air and Toji noticed that your once-gentle smiles had faded, replaced by wary glances exchanged between him and Sukuna. 
Toji’s hand causally brushed yours as you carefully handed Megumi back to him before you faced Sukuna.
He noticed you running the spot on your hand where your skin had touched.
Did you also feel the electricity between the two of you burn your skin?
Toji had.
“If I knew you were coming, you could have picked me up from the store, Ryo! Then I wouldn’t have had to be a bother to Fushiguro...”
You could never be a bother to Toji.
Looking you over, Toji scrutinized your every movement. He knew you were merely trying to shift focus and keep the peace—but to do it for him? 
After everything today, and how he unintentionally put his foot in his mouth with his actions?
Were—were you falling for him, already?
The slightly strained smile on your face still looked sweet enough, and Toji might have mistaken it for genuine—if not for the real warmth you’d shown him just moments before Sukuna’s arrival. 
You really had saved your smiles just for him, isn’t that right mama?
Toji’s heart beats wildly at the thought, however his good temperaments were greatly diminished as he noted how the light in your eyes dimmed.
Seeing you shrink yourself to answer to Sukuna, no matter how insignificant—pissed him off.
Well, at least thanks to him, you wouldn’t have to suffer Sukuna much longer.
As Toji had expected, Sukuna didn’t try to suppress his asshole-like nature, even towards you. Your attempted olive branch had been rebuffed by the heavy hand on your shoulder. It was evident Sukuna was unconcerned with your excuses as he focused solely on Toji.
“Ah Fushiguro, I see you’ve met my son and his mother.”
Even though Sukuna had failed to give you a title, the intent behind his words and demeanor was unmistakable: 
Sukuna owned you.
So that's how it is, eh? 
Toji couldn’t say he was surprised.
Although his possessive nature wasn't driven by affection for you, Sukuna simply never liked to share his toys.
Sukuna must have thought you were just another plaything for Toji, well aware of what Toji got up to typically at The Nursery, 
Eh, and were you any other woman, Sukuna would have been right. 
But you were never toy to Toji, he wanted much more than just to fuck you, even before he realized it himself. 
Toji would be lying if he said that he wasn’t looking forward to that too though. 
“Heh, we’ve already had our introductions before, isn’t that right…?” 
Toji was pleased by the flushed, wide-eyed expression on your face when he dared to address you by your first name—just as he was pleased that Sukuna’s smirk faltered into a scowl at Toji’s bold familiarity with you.
Toji mainly did it to piss Sukuna off. However seeing you flustered, knowing he could have an effect on you even in front of Sukuna, had been a much sweeter treat. 
“Oh? Then she must know not to pay heed to old roosters who are now forced to spend more time in the hen house than running the farm these days. Although, a rooster who cannot crow effectively is of little use anywhere else, I suppose.”
Toji’s expression held firm onto the casual smugness he wore, but inside he was boiling. 
Toji knew exactly what Sukuna was referring to.
Since his late wife passed, Toji had been only sent for specialized jobs that required his immense powerhouse abilities. Although he could easily air out a room of 20 men, Toji was considered to be more of a loose cannon than ever before.
Simply not caring—Toji took his anger out on more than just his targeted kills with no second thoughts given to the collateral damage of the environment he was in nor the civilian casualties around. Thus Toji made the damage control messier and harder on the organization in cases where more precision was needed. 
Some would have called that a liability and had him dealt with, yet the bigger liability still would be trying to ‘deal with’ Toji in the first place. 
Many had tried over the years for one reason or another—and it had been a guaranteed death sentence every time too. 
Regardless, Toji had remained dog loyal to the organization though, with little care for power or status, even though it came to him anyway. 
As long as he was paid, Toji had been content—and in turn, so had the organization. 
This resulted in Toji mostly being able to do as he pleased, even when he went a little rogue at times. 
“Rooster, eh—”
Toji knew Sukuna’s condescending smug attitude stemmed from the special privileges he’d been given to sit in on the executive meetings to solve the current unrest of having to do with whatever old fuck of an executive had gotten himself offed.
Regardless, it could still be seen as a loss of status not being in those meetings.
More importantly—Toji’s rogue behaviors could easily be manipulated into a target on his back should Sukuna assert he’d been a part of the internal treason.
Toji knew he had to tread cautiously with Sukuna, but Toji still did not feel threatened in the least.
“—I’d like to think of myself here as more of a fox though, it suits me better don’t ya think?” 
Toji’s gaze had briefly met your own, and you quickly turned away, his grin growing even wider.
But then again, if Sukuna wanted to think Toji was down and out—Toji would let him. 
It would work to Toji’s advantage in the long run with securing you as his anyway. 
Toji wasn’t worried as he had nothing to do with that old geezer getting wacked and he was glad they’d left him out of it.
Besides, Sukuna being brought into the inner circle could have just as easily been a way to keep a closer watch on him. After all, Sukuna wasn’t an executive—and while Toji was, his role was to eliminate threats, not uncover them. It made more sense for Toji to stay away than for Sukuna to be involved at all.
All which was a net win for Toji, as he found himself with more opportunities to spend time with you, while the organization conveniently kept Sukuna occupied.
With a swift, smooth motion, Toji bent down to retrieve the stray apple that had rolled from your grocery bag. He polished it against his suit jacket before handing it back to you with a sly smile.
“Ya know, I am just next door lil’ hen. This ol’fox is still capable of being a good neighbor. I’ll always have plenty of sugar for you too, should you ever find yourself in need…”
Toji turns to Sukuna.
“...Especially since Sukuna has his hands full on the upper levels of the farm these days, eh? S’a wonder at all how ya manage to visit the hens on this floor too.”
Toji watched with amusement as your eyes widened at the blatant innuendos given right in front of Sukuna, who merely was left growling as his cell audibly and persistently vibrated.
Sukuna deemed the call more important than the coded banter with Toji, as he all but dragged you and Yuji into the condo—leaving the groceries for Uraume to bring in.
Although he had won the battle of the day, Toji regretted his actions later that evening when he inevitably lost the war.
Sukuna made sure to let it be known Toji lost too, as Sukuna had fucked you against the adjoining wall of the master bedroom so hard the entire wall shook.
Your pained yet pleasure-filled moans seeped through the thick insulation of the walls.
Using you like you were just one of his toys, Sukuna was quite literally pounding the point home that you belonged to him with every forceful quake.
Point taken, but what angered Toji more was Sukuna was being too rough with you.
Toji could have sworn he heard you plead for Sukuna to slow down and the irony of his concern was not lost on Toji. 
Toji was never known for being a particularly gentle lover himself, but your body had been through enough—you’re a mother now. 
You deserved better than the careless treatment of some cheap plastic fuck doll. 
Nevertheless, despite the roughness, it was clear from the diluted moans through the insulation—you had liked it.
Sukuna was still making you cum. 
And oh god, did Toji ever want to prove to your precious pussy that his thick inches would fuck her even harder if that’s what she asked of him.
Toji had to repress a frustrated groan when he realized he was painfully hard. 
Your damped cries had Toji palming himself for relief before he even knew what he was doing.
Yet for all the perverse arousal he felt, Toji did feel some semblance of guilt. 
His taunting of Sukuna ensured that this punishment was a lesson for the both of you.
But—Fuck. 
Toji couldn’t deny his sadistic side.
He was a killer after all. 
Even the distressed tremor of your euphoric moans sounded absolutely heavenly to him, and it wasn’t long before Toji fumbled with his own belt to drag out his heavily leaking cock. 
Thick humid breaths left Toji as he hissed from having thumbed off the viscous pre-gathering on his redden tip. 
Toji slowly spread it down his pulsing length, shuddering. 
His frustrations at not being the one touching you—not being the one making you shiver and moan, are only rivaled by his frustration of this being the first time he’s had any real fire in his loins since he’s met you.
The fierce desire to cum was overtaking his more rational brain or self-control as he’d hadn’t been this hard in weeks, even when he’d rub one out from watching old security footage of you.
Wanting any semblance of contact, Toji placed his free hand on the wall—on the exact spot he imagined Sukuna had your cheek pressed against. 
With closed eyes, Toji pictured himself cupping your face, thumb smoothing away any stray hairs or tears while he is the one thrusting into you, filling you.
His large hand encompassed his length while he thrusted into his rough palm, faster now that the speed of the thumping had increased—signaling Sukuna was close to finishing you.
Swallowing a frustrated roar, your muted cries for Sukuna through the wall brought Toji out of his fantasies and back to the harsh reality that Sukuna was the one balls deep in your tight milf pussy—while he was only in his own hand.
Nevertheless, Toji was determined to cum and even more so, determined to soon be the one making you scream in pleasure. 
If you were this loud now—you’d be much louder on his cock. 
Toji leaned in even closer, resting his head on his forearm against the wall, the wall that still shuddered with the force of Sukuna ruthlessly rearranging your guts. 
Forcing himself to dissociate once more, so he could finish—Toji squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he bit his lip to the point of drawing blood. In the daydream, in Toji’s mind, it wasn’t the coarse skin of his palm that stroked his cock but the silky, wet heat of your cozy lil’ cunt. 
Toji convinced himself that the sloshing noises that rang throughout his bedroom were from him stretching your pussy to his shape as his fat tip slammed against your cervix— and not from the embarrassing amount of pearlescent fluid spilling over his hand. 
He hadn’t even cum yet—a testament to how backed up he truly was. 
Toji should have been ashamed at the way his girth had pulsed in his palm, but he was so close, and so determined to finish with you, there was no room for ego.
Picking up speed to nearly the point of chafing, Toji jerked his cock feverishly. Toji came when he heard the loudest moan yet vibrate through the wall, and the banging had ceased with a final jarring shake. 
Rolling back his eyes, Toji released his load all over the wall of his master bedroom, finally sated. Toji had allowed himself to release a strangled groan of relief, once he believed you both were no longer near the wall.
Panting and half-delirious with euphoric release, Toji’s eyes followed the trail of his thick cum splatter slowly trickling down the wall as his once engorged cock deflated in his hand. 
With a curled lip and narrowed-in eyes, the white fluid turns red in his mind’s eye. 
A dark chuckle escaped his lips and Toji fantasized what it would be like to put a slug right between Sukuna’s eyes. Toji’s large load pooled onto the floor in a similar fashion to how Sukuna’s brains would leak, spilling out as it also formed a similarly morbid pool of fluids.
Yet even despite his more ruthless inclinations, upon inhaling a deep breath, Toji felt an unfamiliar zen wash over him.
Killing was just business to Toji, and he couldn’t recall the last time the thought of offing someone had brought him this much pleasure or any semblance of peace.
Yet the fact revealed itself to him then, in that moment—the truth that he’d kill everyone in this goddamn organization for you if that's what it took.
Toji knew Sukuna wasn’t one of those cowardly fucks who would just roll over while someone moved in on his woman either, so Toji would likely be forced to kill him should Sukuna ever find out his true plans for you. 
Toji sighs reluctantly—it was just a mere fantasy.
Not that he gave two fucks what would happen to Sukuna, but killing him would only fan the flames and might even cause an all-out internal war within the organization. 
A war that as the top assassin, he’d be expected to quell with force—for god knows how long.
Ultimately, that would mean a loss for Toji too.
The more involved with the organization he was, the less time he’d get with you.
Brute force was never the ideal way to deal with someone like Sukuna, and it would be better for everyone if you seemingly left him of your own accord. 
But what other choice did he have? 
He’d do what it took to get you at the end of the day.
And while these complications may have deterred a younger Toji, you, as well as the challenge itself, breathed new life into his aging bones.
That life extended into all areas of his current one. Even the usually reserved Megumi had become less quiet and more responsive to Toji with his changed demeanor and increased presence around The Nursery.
You didn’t even know how much you were fixing his life even if you were only on the outskirts of it now. 
You had made him better—so in turn, he would give you better.
Toji had no real interests, hobbies, nor friends. 
Your moving-in had been the most exciting thing that had happened to him since she had been alive and Toji had lived the last year of his life on autopilot—but no more. 
Now that he had something, well, someone that made him feel energized once again. 
The familiar trill of a cell phone—one of the many burners he used for his yakuza dealings—pulls Toji out of his thoughts once again.
His lip curls in annoyance at the person on the line.
This is why Toji likes working alone. 
Others were not only liabilities, but they were rarely ever self-sufficient. 
Always wanting to ‘check-in’ and ‘confirm the plan’, rather than just taking the damn action themselves like they were supposed to. 
But alas, the task of getting rid of Sukuna was something Toji knew he couldn’t do alone, he needed the intel source, even if they were unreliable at best. 
Toji answers the call, but keeps it brief with his clipped replies.
By the time it ended, he was already scoffing, indifferent to the voice still speaking on the other end as he cut the call short and hung up as soon as he got the info he needed. 
Shoving the phone into his back pocket, Toji sparks another cigarette.
His 'partner' had so kindly reminded him of the loose ends he still needed to tie up.
But that could wait. 
For now, Toji remained where he was, stationed on his balcony—ready to stay out here all night for the small chance you may need him.
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©𝐛𝐥𝐤𝐤𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐚𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐟𝐱, 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞.
⟢ end credits: please comment, like and reblog and lmk what you think! I'd really appreciate the feedback as this fic has been my baby working on it.
i will likely end up completing another work while i work on episode 3 as my adhd ass usually needs to break it up in order not to get writers block and unlike e2 i had only done the outline so far, so if i post something else in the meantime just know i'm still working on episode 3!
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A very self indulgent Billford playlist!
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Self indulgent, because this music does not appeal to the masses at all; these songs are limited to the stuff I listen to. So I’m being VERY transparent about my embarrassing taste in music right now! Plus, NOBODY ASKED FOR THIS!!! But I hope some of these resonate with you. This is a little collection I’ve formed in my phone notes since I got into this ship a couple weeks ago.
Not a fancy spotify playlist, it’s just links to the music on youtube. 
I’ve got this divided into parts:
-The Billford Songs
-The In This Moment Billford Songs
SO MUCH of their music is enemies/lovers perfection. I’ve thought about so many *killing you but also making out with you* pairings to this shit, because these songs were like, DESIGNED to be recycled for any and all love hate relationships, and still hit insanely hard EVERY TIME. So now that you have these songs under your belt, you have them FOREVER. You’re welcome. I haven’t even listened to all their music, I’m sure there’s more songs for this category that I simply haven’t discovered.
-The…Maybe…Billford Songs
My standards were kinda high for making this list. But every song is about your ship when you’re insane, right??? So these are the maybe’s. One’s I’ve thought about billford to, but maybe the lyrics don’t totally align.
Playlist under the cut! I wasn’t gonna ramble about each song but WHOOPS I DID 🤷‍♀️
The Billford songs:
Monophobia - Deadmau5 (Extended version, cuz it’s the best.)
THE LYRICS… THE LYRICS!!!! Definitely bill pining in theraprism. 
Propane Nightmares - Pendulum
This one WAS gonna go in the maybe’s, but I convinced myself otherwise after listening to it eighty more times, and now it’s up here on top. And fuck it, this is the *self indulgent* billford playlist, so I do what I want. I go into a fucking trance when I listen to this song, so I can’t really explain 110% why this is a billford song to me, but I’ll try.  Apparently, this song is about the heavens gate cult. So not enemies/lovers angst. But looking at the lyrics, you could interpret it as giving yourself to something greater, and coming to the realization that what you pledged yourself to is actually a very bad thing which will ultimately destroy you. (also, you can’t deny that there was some cult like manipulation happening with Bill and Ford. Sense of purpose and friendship.) Definitely billford-y when you consider Fords commitment to bill. And I’ll admit, when I listen to it, there is some pov switching. Because the “trail of fire”,  “we will be as one”, and “bring it on home” is VERY reminiscent of bill executing weirdmageddon. So overall, my interpretation of this song is Ford feeling torn about bill, feeling regret, feeling scared, and Bill of course, just wanting to bring the dimensions together. “BRING IT ON HOME!!!!”  Or I just like the song. 
Rule 34 - Fish in a Birdcage
Bestie recommended this song to me. It needs no explanation.
Painkiller - The Queenstons
…NEEDS NO EXPLANATION DSKFDSKJHF It’s similar to the above, just more… scary imo. Violent. Definitely bill being a little psycho. I really love this song. It’s very recyclable too. You have it for any toxic ship now. 
9V - The Queenstons
One of my favorite Lapfox/Halley Labs songs… I’m gonna give you the lyrics, it’s a bit hard to understand without them. In my eyes, it’s about betraying Ford. Also these vocals (and other music by this artist) works so well for bill because of the synthesized voice. 
LoveBOMB - S3RL
This is a new S3RL song. This song sounds like a tantrum, and I really liked it when I first heard it, but it didn't fit anything I was into at the time. Luckily, bill suffered a horrible breakup, and now this song has it’s meaning. 
When I'm There - S3RL
Bill thinking about joining the third dimension with Ford. 
Click Bait - S3RL
I’ve listened to this one a LOT before this, and I surprised myself with how much it aligns with bill, specifically, him tricking Ford.
Space-Time - S3RL
Speaks for itself.
Sodom & Gomorrah - Dorian Electra
This one’s just funny :)
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The In This Moment Billford Songs
Sick Like Me
Sexual Hallucination
This is one of those recyclable songs, but I was damn surprised at how well the lyrics suited them, because it alludes to being out of body, possession, etc.
Blood
Half God half devil
Roots
Whore
Damn it, I cant deny this one suits them.
Big Bad Wolf
DAMN IT I wasn’t gonna include this one, but I just checked the lyrics and fuck, it works. In this moment, how are you so wonderful
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The…Maybe…Billford Songs
Illuminaughty - Infected Mushroom
I'm kind of grasping at straws with these lyrics, but with a title like that? Come on
The Pretender - Foo Fighters, Infected Mushroom, Turbo Remix
Three versions, for whichever suits your fancy.
Leopold - Infected Mushroom
This one has NO LYRICS, but it has this buildup that sounds really cool, and it has an abrupt decrescendo. Reminds me of their "friendship" and how it all came crashing down.
Idolize - Dorian Electra
Hmmmmm, I just like Dorian. But the idolization thing works for obvious reasons.
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That’s it! Hope you enjoy. Maybe I'll do an expansion pack of sorts if I find enough songs for a part 2.
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wilwheaton · 3 months
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The violent attack on Congress on 6 January 2021, and all the ancillary attempts to steal the 2020 election, were a coup attempt led from the executive branch of the federal government with support from Republicans in the legislative branch. 1 July 2024 – this Thursday – was a more successful coup attempt orchestrated by six judges of the judicial branch. “With fear for our democracy, I dissent,” wrote Justice Sonia Sotomayor in an opinion joined by justices Ketanji Brown Jackson and Elena Kagan, after the US supreme court’s conservative majority ruled that Donald Trump holds “absolute immunity” for “official acts” done while president. Part of what’s shocking about the state of the union right now is that an entire party and the US supreme court’s conservative majority have abandoned almost everything – the truth, the rule of law, their own legitimacy, their place in history and the fate of the nation – to serve one man. They could not have picked a more outrageous man to throw their weight and reputations behind – a psychotic clown who’s also an indicted felon found liable in civil court for sexual assault, barred from doing business in New York, a stealer of state secrets, a would-be thief of an election and the instigator of a violent attack on the legislative branch of government and the constitutionally mandated transition of power after an election. A grifter who in 2016 won a minority victory in a corrupted election – his conviction earlier this year was on charges for one small part of that corruption. A man who has gloated about seizing dictatorial powers and never letting go and a worshiper of tyrants denounced by dozens of his former cabinet members and senior staffers. January 6 was an attack on the constitution and so was 1 July. That no one is above the law has been a pillar of this nation and a cherished value since the 18th century; to knock it down in the 21st destabilizes structures and values that have stood these two centuries and more. A president with total immunity poses obvious threats to the rule of law, the balance of powers and democracy itself, and if that president is the vindictive criminal on the Republican ticket the dangers are immediate and obvious.
The US supreme court just completed Trump’s January 6 coup attempt
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beejunos · 5 months
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UNKNOWN TO ME AND YOU | Alastor x reader
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Summary: As Alastor's shadow starts to act strangely, hidden feelings are brought to light.
This wonderful story was written from @lustylita's wonderful idea! The story is completely theirs; I just had the pleasure of putting it into words. Their original post can be found here.
Tags: Alastor x gn.reader, hidden feelings, angst
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The last couple of weeks have been very strange to you. 
Well, stranger than the hotel usually was. 
Over the past few weeks, you have helped your best friend, Charlie, with her little passion project. The Hazbin Hotel - your only chance at redemption! 
While you couldn't say that you inherently believed in her dream, you would have been a poor friend if you hadn't tried to help her—emphasis on tried. Growing up within Hell's elite, where someone always handed you everything on gold platters, didn't foster any usable skills that could help run a severely understaffed hotel. The very thought of having to clean your own room had almost immobilised you.
Did you really need to vacuum the walls and the ceilings every week? How did the cleaning staff back at your parents' manor even do it? The manor was huge! 
Thankfully, you had not been forced to clean for long because shortly after Charlie had opened the hotel for business, an unwanted guest had come knocking at the door. Alastor and his somewhat reluctant companies, except for Niffty, who seemed to thrive in the chaos, quickly made themselves at home in the hotel. 
The same night they arrived, you and Vaggie had sat Charlie down in their room and begged the princess not to let the radio demon stay. After all, the tales of his deeds had even reached your family's manor in the Envy ring of Hell. But Charlie had been persistent, saying that maybe by staying in the hotel, she could change his ways. You loved your friend; you really did, but sometimes you wanted to shake some sense into her violently. 
There was nothing you could do about the radio demon and how he just took over many of the work duties you had at the hotel. Waltzing in as if he owned the hotel, he had taken one look at your work and deemed it unsatisfactory. 
"No, no, let me do it, doll!" he would say condescendingly, making rage lick up your spine, "We would want this to be done well for Charlie, now, wouldn't we?" 
You had lost count of all the times you fantasised about grabbing a chair and introducing it to his face. 
He made you feel incompetent, and worst of all, he was right. Most of the work you had done that he had redone was of better quality, more detailed, and better planned. If you had been a weaker demon, you would have given up, apologised to Charlie and gone home to your parents, but so, if the heavens would be your witnesses, you were going to crush that smug little bastard of a sinner! 
And so began your imaginary battle with Alastor about who could be the best executive producer. If you had asked Alastor, he would not have had any clues about what you were doing, only that it finally seemed like you were taking your job seriously. That said, he still did not like you. You were a spoiled little demon brat who had never worked a hard day in your life, and worst of all, you were sloppy with your work. 
But time kept ticking. The days passed, the hotel was filled with new residents, and somehow, you and Alastor were able to work together. Nevertheless, you only managed to do it by never being near each other, which worked wonderfully for you because the man could actually be quite okay when he was silent and on the other side of the room.  
You could have continued to live like this for as long as Alastor decided to live in the hotel. There was just this teeny tiny thing that perplexed you. 
Alastor's shadow liked to be around you. 
It had begun quite innocently with the shadow coming over to you one night when you were sitting in one of the armchairs by the fireplace with yesterday's newspaper in your lap since you had started to do the crossword puzzle on the back of the paper. You had been staring at the same clue for what felt like an hour, and you just couldn't figure it out. Out of nowhere, a shadowy finger had tapped on the clue to get your attention, and when you looked up, two empty holes for eyes had looked back at you with the biggest twisted grin full of teeth you had ever seen. 
"Fuck! Don't do that!" you whispered forcefully, not wanting to disturb the peace and quiet that finally had fallen over the hotel lobby. "What do you want?" 
Prepared to be bothered any second now by the radio demon, you got even more confused when the shadow started doing pantomimes. Why in the seven Hells was it swimming across the wall?
You looked on as the shadow began to swim back to you, tapped on the clue and started to swim again.
"Swimming? But it has nothing to do with activities! It is something about effort," you said as the shadow returned to you. Since it could not speak, the shadow just started to nod its head and tapped on the clue again. 
"Is it a word derived from the word swimming?" you asked hesitantly as the shadow continued to nod. 
You turned back to the clue before you—a word for no effort needed and swimming.
"Swimmingly?" you asked the shadow, who gave you an even bigger sinister smile and nodded again before it disappeared up the stairs. Again, you were left in the lobby with only the crackling fire as a company, looking over at the stairs after the strange entity that was Alastor's shadow.
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The next couple of weeks just grew more and more strange with every day. Out of nowhere, Alastor's shadow started to just interact with you. It began as innocent waves to you behind Alastors back, and at first, you wouldn't wave back, but when you saw how sad the shadow got if you didn't return its greeting, you started to wave back to it. On a few occasions, Alastor had caught you in the act, which quickly prompted you to swat the air around you as if you were trying to get rid of a fly.
When the waves weren't enough for the shadow, it started to appear around you, helping you in various ways. Once, it even helped you find some important paper you needed for your job that you were convinced Alastor had hidden from you. 
It turned out that Alastor's shadow was much more pleasant company than its physical part, and you often welcomed the shadow's help with your crosswords during the evenings.
However, you were again thrown for a loop when the shadowed behaviour started to change. It began to interact with you even more, seeking you out during the day and staying for long periods at a time, just hanging around you or observing what you were doing. 
One day, it had even brought you a blueberry muffin from the bakery you liked across town. You had no idea how it had even done that. For all you knew, shadows were not physical things and could not interact with the physical world. However, you were promptly proven wrong when Alastor's shadow took your own shadow's hand and pulled you down the hallway to show you the roses that had started to bloom outside of the hotel. 
It was a paradox, a mystery that intrigued you. Alastor's shadow, a creature of darkness, was surprisingly sweet, charming, and, at times, downright romantic. How could such a lovely thing be attached to such a vile being?
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It had been like any other day. Alastor's shadow had found you in your office early in the morning, going through all the paperwork that needed to get done that day. In its shadowy hand, it held one blueberry muffin and your favourite coffee mug with a sleepy bear on it, along with the text Bearly Awaken written underneath. 
The coffee had been divine because, somewhere, the shadow had learned to make a cup of coffee exactly how you wanted it.
You continued with your day in the presence of Alastor's shadow, walking together down the corridor, through the lobby, and out the front door as you chatted with the shadow. You had gotten quite good at interpreting its pantomimes and overexaggerated emotions and often found yourself laughing at any antics the shadow pulled. 
It followed you all day as you walked around the city, picking up the materials Charlie needed for her next exercise with the hotel residents. The shadow even helped you pick out the colours for the ribbons and paints. 
At one point, the shadow's long finger had brushed against yours. It had been a cold sensation, almost like being touched by mist, but that had not mattered to you as you blushed before looking away. Missing how the shadow practically folded in on itself when it saw your reaction. 
Was it possible to date a shadow and not the being it was attached to? 
The sun was setting when you and Alastor's shadow got back to the hotel. The lobby was almost empty except for Husk, who was polishing martini glasses by the bar. As soon as he saw the two of you enter the hotel, Husk leapt over the bar and rushed over to you. 
"I don't know where the fuck the two of you have been, but you need to leave now before he finds out that your back," Husk whispered to you as he gripped your arm to turn you around towards the door. 
"And you!" he said towards the shadow, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"  
The shadow made a high-pitched whine as it stepped closer to you. You were about to ask Husk what he had meant when a loud voice boomed inside the hotel.
"Where are you?"
Husk's hand tightened around your arm as he started to pull you towards the door. You followed after him, paralysed by action, as a stone of fear got stuck in your throat. The shadow looked at you, then back at the stairs and then back at you again with anxious eyes. 
Loud steps could be heard from the hallway above the staircase, and Alastor's shadow began to be dragged towards the stairs as if by an invincible force. It desperately dug its claws into the ground, and the shadow let out a wailing scream as it looked at you with big, pleading eyes. 
Alastor was calling his shadow back to him. 
The shadow continued to fight the force of its master's call, leaving deep claw marks on the floor, and, as if a gunshot had been fired at the room, the force wholly let go of the shadow. The shadow rushed back to you, where it clung to your body like a second skin. 
"Get back here, you disgraceful thing!" Alastor could be heard shouting as a massive hand gripped the hallway doorframe and pulled itself forward. It was the hand of Alastor's most demonic form. 
Beside you, Husk had begun to shake as his claws dug into your skin.
"You need to run. Now!" he tried to push you towards the door, but it was too late. From around the corner, Alastor stepped from the dark into the light, but as he stepped forward, he shrank in size. Still, he looked terrifying. 
His eyes were a deep red with volume controllers as irises, hiding any emotions he may have had. His antlers had grown in size, sharp and imposing, making the sinner look almost regal as he sauntered down the stairs. 
"Thank you, Husker." he said, his voice dripping in venom, "I can take over now." 
Husk was about to protest loudly when he disappeared in a puff of red smoke, and you were left alone with the enraged sinner. 
"What do you think you are doing?" Alastor snarled as you started to shake where you were standing. A small whine could be heard beside your neck as the shadow clung closer to you.  
"I don't know..."
"I'm not talking to you!" Alastor's look silenced you but confused you for a second before you saw his eyes drop down to your neck, where the shadow hid. 
"Come back here and stop resisting," Alastor snarled again and stepped towards you. The shadow gave away a low whine as it clung closer to your body, and you realised it didn't want to return. In a fit of temporary insanity, you placed a protective hand over the arms of the shadow around you and stepped away from the sinner.
"No!"  
"What do you mean no? It's my shadow," asked Alastor as he looked back at you in confused rage.
"He doesn't want to be with you anymore," you snapped and turned your nose up. You stepped to the side to walk around the sinner, effectively walking away with his shadow, but as you walked past Alastor, his hand shot out, and he tried to grab your arm. But you were faster; with your other hand, you slept Alastors hand away from you and the shadow.
"Will you stop it! Don't you understand that we want nothing to do with you, so just leave us alone!" 
With determined steps, you started walking over to the staircase to get as far away from the deer demon as possible. However, you didn't get far until you felt the shadow clung even more to you as it let out a pitiful sob. Its head had fallen over your shoulder as it looked up at you with longing eyes—a gaze it shouldn't be giving you since you had just saved it from its cruel master.
"What's the matter?" you asked it as you tried to caress its cheek, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw something that you never thought you would see. 
Without a smile and ears hanging low against his head, Alastor looked at you with the same miserable longing that the shadow looked at you with. And that's when you remember something your mother used to say to you when you were a child, a long time ago. 
Our deepest desires, our most precious wishes and longings, hide in our shadows. Everything we want follows us within our shadows as the weights of our souls.  
You wanted to kick yourself for being so foolish, for not understanding until now. Maybe a small part of you had always known, but it had been easy to ignore in your imaginary rivalry with the sinner. But a shadow never lies. Even the ones who can think and act on their own. They will always mirror their owner's heart's wishes and act upon them when the host won't take charge of getting what they desire. 
"You're in love with me," you whispered. It was not a question but a statement—a statement that seemed to hang in the air for an eternity but not long enough. 
“How? What? When?” you asked, desperate for answers.
Alastor walked hesitantly towards you, looked you deep into your eyes and did something you never thought he would do. He kissed your cheek. 
Your breath hitched in your throat as his warm lips softly touched your cheek, and when he pulled away, you could still feel their presence against your skin. As if you were branded by their sweet touch. 
"Come now," was the last thing he said to his shadow as he walked around you and back up the stairs. Alastor's shadow made a melancholic chirping noise before it let go of you and followed its master.
You were left alone in the big hotel lobby. Wishing that it was your lips Alastor had kissed and not your cheek.
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PART 2.
I really hope it lived up to the expectations, but I loved writing it! It got a lot more angsty than I first intended...
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tbaluver · 2 months
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HIIIIII! first of all I wanna thank you for your service to the entirety of the LADS fandom omg😭🫶🫶🫶 local treasure for real. Uhhhh now for my request- If it’s alright with you, is it okie to write HCs for the boys if they were vampires? LMK IF IT ISN’T ALR W YOU😭😭😭 I’m sorry if it isn’t okie TT…..
The Love And DeepSpace Men As Vampires
warnings/ context: a lot of mention of blood, fluff and a lot of intimacy, maybe ooc
parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader
a/n: hihi anonnie <3 !! omg you're so sweet your message literally made my day!! (´。• ᵕ •。`) ♡ thank you for requesting and i hope you like this !! i might make a second part of this headcanon bc i honestly liked writing this au!!
any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
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Xavier:
Xavier's swordsmanship reached new heights. His speed, strength, and reflexes were enhanced beyond human capabilities, allowing him to execute complex maneuvers with ease and precision. Over the centuries, he continued to practice and perfect his craft, adapting his techniques to the evolving eras and styles of combat. In the present day, Xavier is a highly respected Deepspace Hunter. He is known for his remarkable physical abilities and his combat skills, honed over centuries have proven invaluable in dangerous situations, especially involving violent Wanderers or high-risk scenario's.
You first met at the abandoned warehouse, where your mission brought you together. As you worked side by side, investigating cases and solving crimes, your professional partnership and friendship gradually deepened into a close, intimate relationship.
During a high stake mission, he was gravely injured, and you rushed to his side, eager to tend his wounds. Despite your urgent efforts, he gently pushed you away, his eyes filled with a mixture and resolve. He had been preparing for this moment for a long time, searching for the right words and the right timing. This man has even looked it up on the internet on how to tell you but found no help whatsoever. When he explained it all, it all made sense.
Your boyfriend who would sleep a lot during the day, you haven't seen your boyfriend eat much whenever you went on dates let alone cook. But usually when he cooks he would burn it. And a lot of his missions are usually at night.
He consistently turned down your offers to feed him. However, it became increasingly evident that his strength was waning. Over the past few weeks, his supply of blood bags had dwindled to almost nothing, leaving him visibly weakened and frail. One evening, as he struggled to maintain his composure, you could no longer just stand by and watch. You confronted him insisting that he accepts your offer despite his protests.
He preferred to bite you on the neck, from behind, pressing you close to his chest. He slipped his arm around your waist, his touch light and comforting. His breath, warm and steady, grazes the nape of your neck, causing you to shiver slightly with a mix of excitement and vulnerability.
He lowered his head, his fangs emerging with a practiced grace. The initial contact was tender, a gentle brush of his lips against your skin, followed by a delicate lick. His fangs, sharp yet controlled, made a brief precise puncture. The sting was momentary, quickly overshadowed by the soothing warmth that followed. The richness of your blood filled him with a profound sense of satisfaction. His grip on your waist tightened slightly, anchoring him as he savored the precious essence flowing between the them. When he pulls his fangs out, his tongue reacquaints itself with the flavor of your skin as his palm cradles the back of your head affectionately.
You've also become more accustomed to sleeping at the same time with him. You found out from him that vampires find comfort sleeping close to someone they trust and love.
His protective nature for you is also heightened. He's always vigilant about your safety and goes to great lengths to shield you from harm.
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Zayne:
Zayne has adapted to his new existence. He carefully crafted a persona as a surgeon. As the world evolved, so did Zayne. He embraced modern advancements in medical technology and his practice is renowned for it's extraordinary success rates, often performing miracles that seemed beyond the reach of contemporary medicine.
Despite his vampire nature, he sticks to a strict ethical code. He uses his immortality to help those in need, driven by a belief that his eternal life should be used to alleviate suffering and advance medical knowledge. To the public, he is a genius who performs miracles, but no one knows the truth until you came along in his life.
I think he would also love arts. As a vampire that's been alive for centuries, he would love to talk to you about art, literature, or show you around the museums that interest him. His extended lifespans gives him the opportunity to witness and absorb various cultural movements over the centuries so he'd gladly talk to you about it all.
He was alive centuries ago so his manners and chivalry are always timeless with you. He holds the door open, pulls out chairs, and showers you with tradional gestures of affection.
Truth is, he is terrified of hurting you and will genuinely avoid you if it means to keep you safe. However, his bloodlust continues to get worst with his tender feelings towards you as you continue coming back for a patient checkup or anytime you two would be together. His mind racing with a jumble of anxious thoughts, 'What if you feared him after telling you?', 'What if he becomes addicted and sucks you dry?' The idea of losing you absolutely drove him mad.
When it came to eventually telling you, you weren't afraid of him, which made him relax. You both talked about your boundaries and your safety.
You wouldn't be able to tell from his stoic expression but he would actually be nervous. He usually drank blood from blood bags and poured into a cup. It was always bland, something to just fill his hunger. But when you offered your own, he was terrified of what your blood would to him.
When you finally convinced him, he would make sure you were okay as he pushed your hair out of the way. He preferred to bite you on the neck from the front, pressing you close to his chest. Your hand would clench around his shirt, tensing up due to the idea of it hurting.
He would be slow, gentle, and place soft kisses on your shoulder and neck as he runs his hands along your waist. As his nose brushed against your neck, he drew in your irresistible scent with a deep, lingering breath. He positions his fangs at your throat and pressed down.
You gasp at the sudden, sharp sting of pain, and he immediately begins to comfort you, his fingers gently tracing soothing circles on your hip to ease the discomfort. Eventually, you would become relaxed in his embrace as you wait for him to finish feeding. His entire body would protest, but he'd resist the urge to pull away, relishing each drop of your blood with a palpable hunger. He'd worry he'd taken too much.
When he finally drew back he would lick the wound and press soft kisses on it. He saw how drained you looked, but your reassurance puts his fears to rest. Gently, he'd help you settle into a seat, allowing your head to rest on his shoulder before he went to fetch some snacks to help you regain your strength back.
After weeks of feeding, his hunger was finally full. He no longer needed to feed with any regularity; he could comfortably go a week or even a month without feeding. He doesn't drink from you unless it's absolutely necessary, sometimes to the point where he's so weak he couldn't even hold his pen anymore.
However if the time came again and you let him feed on you, he would have everything prepared. He'd have bandages and wraps nearby in case of any mishaps, along with snacks and drinks to help you recover afterward. The feeding would take place in your shared resting chamber, ensuring you could relax afterwards.
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Rafayel:
As a vampire, Rafayel's artistic abilities were magnified to extraordinary levels. His senses became heightened, allowing him to perceive the subtlest nuances of color, texture, and lighting. His immortality provides him with endless time to refine his craft, and explore new techniques and styles that pushes the boundaries of traditional painting. His paintings are considered a masterpiece that capture interest of many people all over the world.
You met him at his house studio to investigate a painting. Eventually you're both attacked by a Wanderer in his home and defeat it. In the aftermath, he extends an offer to hire you as his bodyguard, recognizing the value of your talents. You accepted, and as your roles shifted from professional to personal, a deeper connection blossomed between you. It wasn't long before your relationship grew into something more intimate. Eventually he would confess that he was a vampire. At first, his mischievous demeanor made it hard to take his claim seriously.
Rafayel tries so hard to hold himself back whenever he's near you. He would go to any lengths, even staking himself, to ensure he would never cause you harm. He struggles to keep his bloodlust at bay, especially when your scent is so intoxicating. Each time you wear something that exposes your neck, wrists, or ankles, his throat becomes unbearably dry. To mask his struggle, he distracts himself with conversation and avoids eye contact, desperately trying to remain composed. When you're near, he can barely focus on anything but the overwhelming urge to taste your blood, a constant battle between his desires and his determination to keep you safe.
Whenever he shows affection, whether it's a hug or a kiss, he holds you just a bit too tightly, his breath trembling against your neck, making you shiver. Though he's always tender with you, in these moments you can sense the raw edge of his desire, barely contained beneath his gentle exterior. It's a thrilling reminder of the thin line he walks between his love for you and his almost overpowering urge to taste your blood. And at times like this, you truly wonder if your boyfriend was telling you the truth.
However, your skepticism grew when you witnessed his pallor and weakness, the result of without proper nourishment. He explained that blood donors he relied on were bland and left a lingering, unpleasant aftertaste so he had neglected his feeding.
Out of your generosity you would ask him to drink you blood and obviously he'll be shocked and refused. But you know him to well and it takes barely any persuading to let him feed on you.
He prefers to bite your wrist, finding it the most practical and less intrusive spot for feeding. He insists that you sit beside him during the process, believing it to be the safest arrangement. This way if he ever loses control or if you start to feel faint or unwell you can easily pull away and protect yourself from any unintended harm. His primary concern is your safety, and he values this precautionary measure to ensure that your well-being is always safeguarded.
He would lean in, his breath warm against your skin, and with the gentlest pressure, his fangs would pierce the surface of your wrist. A brief, tingling sting that quickly faded into a soothing warmth. He fed slowly savoring the rich, warm taste, each tip tender and measured. His hold on your wrist would be firm but careful, ensuring that you felt secure and not overwhelmed.
As he drank, he would look up a couple times, his gaze fixed on you, watching for any signs of discomfort. When he finally finished, he eased his fangs from your skin and gently licked the small punctures, soothing them with a tender touch. He placed soft kisses over the marks.
Even as a vampire, he'll still mess around with you. He occasionally teases you by extending his fangs just enough to graze your skin. He would let his teeth lightly brush against your arm, just enough to startle you without breaking the surface layer. His laughter rings our softly as you squirm or swat at him, your playful annoyance would be evident. He does this with kisses too. Sometimes you'll feel a sharp fang gently biting your tongue and you'll pull away to flick his forehead for being mischievous
Although he can't see himself in the mirror you would always remind him he's always so handsome. You may not be the artist like he is but you'll try to draw him sometimes and even though it might not be perfect or he might make fun of you, he appreciates the gesture.
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Sylus:
You first met Sylus when an unknown man fires a bullet at you, but Sylus stops the bullet mid-air and disintegrates the man. Despite your minor injuries, with blood seeping from the wounds, your scent was overwhelmingly intoxicating to him. Sylus had been quietly monitoring you, with Mephisto discreetly shadowing your every move. The raw, alluring aroma of your blood ignited a fierce, almost uncontrollable craving within him. Yet, he fought to maintain his composure, striving to resonate with while concealing the fierce hunger that roared within him. Although not a lot of talking has happened when you passed out.
You woke up to find out you've been staying at his home for three days. He's tried to force you to resonate with him after you woke up only to find out the reason why it didn't work was because you were subconsciously rejecting him, scared of him, or disgusted by him. Eventually you agreed to work with him, on the terms of helping you out with your investigation to make you not so disgusted by him.
As you both diligently worked together in the N109 Zone, trust between you gradually deepened. Through countless shared experiences and mutual reliance, you discovered more about each other, and your relationship evolved from professional to deeply personal. Eventually, Sylus reveals to you that he was a vampire. Which was not surprising to you at all. Pale Skin and crimson red eyes? That's def a vampire. The information did not change your relationship but rather you've become more curious.
You found out he usually gets blood from blood bags from the hospital because he has no time to hunt. He hates having to feed on the blood bags as they were too bland and unsatisfying. To compensate, he sometimes indulges in red wine, using it as a substitute to mimic the richness he craves. so sometimes he'll drink a lot of red wine as a filler for blood.
Dates with him are also super thoughtful just like how he would give you gifts. He'll gift you with more antique or vintage things from his past that remind him of you. He loves taking you out on moonlit dates or walks under the stars. He obviously cannot be in the sun but he also hates the sun so this was perfect for him.
He also has a ton of secret hideaways in the world. He created many for anytime you both want to travel so these hidden spots offer a blend of comfort and safety for the two of you.
Out of your kindness and curiosity, you offer him your own blood, hoping it might provide a more fulfilling experience. He would be hesitant about it, mainly worried that he might become addicted once he's consumed your blood. But with reassurance and the communication between you two you decided to try it out.
He preferred to bite you on your inner thigh. You would lay on the body, your body relaxed and supported by the plush of the pillows. Your legs would be slightly bent and spread, giving him easy access as he settled between you. He brushed his lips lightly against your inner thigh, his touch feather-light and soothing. His breath was warm against your skin as his one of his hands rested gently on your hips, offering reassurance and stability. His other hand would be intertwined with yours.
With a deliberate slowness, he allowed his fangs to emerge, their presence barely noticeable at first. As he leaned in, he places a soft kiss on the inner curve of your thigh, his fangs grazing lightly against your skin. The feeling of anticipation and tenderness, would make you tingle with both excitement and nervousness.
When he finally bit down, it was a controlled precision. The initial sting was quick but fleeting, and quickly replaced by a soothing, warm sensation as he began to feed. He couldn't help but groan at your taste. He kept his touch light, his hands continuously caressing your thigh to ensure you were secured and cared for. He'll occasionally look up, to see if you were showing any signs of discomfort.
Once he was done feeding, he would lick the wound clean and caress your thigh as he would praise you. "You taste so good for me sweetie." The gesture you have given him has open a new chapter in your complex relationship.
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cabbagecrunt · 2 years
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i should not have read the notes on that sibling post
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#vent incoming sorry#WHYYYYY DOES SHE HAVE TO BE NEUROTYPICAL#she always called me annoying and even got violent about it sometimes#and now its like. sometimes i feel like i cant ask for help or contact people for necessary things or even fucking infodump#because i feel like im just going to be annoying and theyre gonna want nothing to do with me#she doesnt do that anymore she traumatizes me in new ways !#since im the only one without a job most of the chores are my responsibility which is fine and fair#but she made this chore chart for me that was cool In Theory because it didnt just have punishments but rewards as well#but sometimes i couldnt get everything done because of the Mentol Illness#and when i tried to explain that she would say i was using it as an excuse#we would write each other notes on the whiteboard#and in one of her notes she went as far as to say that she talked to someone with 'diagnosed executive dysfunction'#and that they said i was using it as an excuse#the kicker? you can't get diagnosed with executive dysfunction. it's a symptom if anything#the other kicker? she's a psychology major#she likes to pretend she knows more about my mental illnesses than me because shes been studying psychology for 6 years#but buddy i have been living with them for almost 21 years now#if youre so smart psych major then how come you thought executive dysfunction was something you could get diagnosed?#how come you thought i could be put in a mental hospital just because i haven't been able to find a job!!!!#ah this has gotten. long#but its like when i see other people talk about their Antics with their Beloved Siblings im like. god i wish she were autsitic#maybe i should rewatch rottmnt and cry#end of vent thanks for reading uh. you can share your sibling trauma in the replies if you want#like comment and subscribe for more things i should probably be telling to a therapist 😎#(this was a moment of weakness and i do not plan on venting here again)
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a-b-riddle · 5 months
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Hear me out, but obsessed Simon Riley x reader.
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When you’re accused of being a traitor, Simon doesn’t hesitate in getting to work.
Even though you handed over all of your passwords, given them access to anything and everything they him immediately, it did nothing to help. You were going to be crucified.
Price and Laswell had already made the call. A call Simon couldn’t stand by and let happen.
It’s not that Simon believed you when you tried to prove you weren’t the leak.
He simply didn’t care if you were.
He didn't care if you had betrayed them. He didn't care if your innocent nature had truly been an act all along.
It was instinct to get you out of there. Not even for your own safety, but to insure Simon that no one could take you from him. If you remained a free agent, it was only a matter of time before they brought you in. After that, it was out of his hands. You were theres to hurt, to kill and he could do nothing to stop it. So what better way to insure that they can't take you other than taking you for himself?
He simply can’t have someone hurting his bird. So he sets the plan in motion.
Price intends on waiting for the order before executing the extraction plan. They wanted answers. How much did you tell Makarov? What did he know?
Simon was a step ahead. It was easy enough hiding in your garage, waiting for you to come home. The darkness of the night had aided him. You were blindly walking to the door connecting to your kitchen before you felt it. The gloved hand around your mouth and the sharp pinch in your neck.
When you wake up chained to a bed in a dark room, you knew you were as good as dead. They had taken you. This was it and you couldn't plead your case anymore than you already had. All your efforts in trying to prove your innocence were futile.
When Simon stepped in, still in his tactical gear your heart sank. He still had on his mask. Fully equipped. The knives on his side gleaming menacingly as the one light in your cell shined down on him. You swore that you would never betray him, the 141 or Laswell.
“Simon,” you begged already scurrying farther back toward the headboard, trying to create more distance. “I didn’t do it. I swear.” He didn’t stop his slow steps. Even as you began to cry. Even as you curled your body into a tight ball.
You sobbed as you pleaded for mercy, begging for your life. Your shaking violently as you felt him get on the bed. The frame creaking under his weight. You closed your eyes, turning your head away as you readied your self for the final blow to come. Wordlessly began unlocking the metal cuffs.
"Shhh," he soothed. "None of that now." He took your wrists in his hand before softly running his thumbs where the metal cuffs had left an imprint. “Couldn’t have you running off.” He explained, his tone... gentle. Speaking to you as if you were child. "That sedative can give you a pretty rough wake up call. Didn't need you hurtin' yourself. Needed to have a chat first.” He went on to explain you were in his home. Where he wouldn’t disclose. Only that you were safe.
You were safe.
You weren't going to be tortured.
You weren't going to be killed for something you didn't do. Your eyes filled with tears as you realized he was on your side. “You believe me.” You said, the tears resuming for a completely didn't reason. Relief flooded you and you had to stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him.
“No,” his correction made your heart drop into your stomach.
"But..." You press your back hard against the wooden headboard. There's no where else to go. Nowhere else to run. "You said I was safe." He sighed. Tears flowed down your cheeks as he put his hand gently where your neck and jaw me.
"You are safe." But, if he didn’t believe you... why were you here? “I don’t care if you did it. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He reassured, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. Then he spoke so softly, you could have sworn he was talking more to himself than he was you. “Not going to let anything hurt you.”
It took you a moment to process it.
Simon had taken you... You were in his home and no one knew you were here. You didn't even know where exactly you were.
And Simon was touching you.
He was touching you. After years of working together, Simon was caressing your cheek. Showing such softness that it actually scared you. He took note of how he could feel your heart rate even through his glove.
"Why?"
“I’m protecting you.” He said, growing irritated that you weren't getting it. “Do you have any idea what they would have done to you?" He asked rhetorically, waiting rather patiently for you to be thanking him for saving you.
"Do..." Your head began to spin, trying to pull your mind away from all the possibilities on what could have happened. "Do I have to stay here?" You asked.
Simon was a patient man, but you beginning to test that patience. He let out a huff before pulling his hand away and placing it on your bare knee.
"Just until it all gets sorted." He lied, giving you a squeeze that he could only hope was reassuring. Even after they found the leak, you wouldn't be leaving him.
"Oh." You swallowed, nodding in understanding. "Okay." You let out a staggered breath trying to calm down. You were going to have to stay in this confined space, already feeling the claustrophobia creeping in as you felt the dark cement walls move in closer and closer. "Is there a bathroom I can use in here?" You asked, praying he wouldn't leave you with a bucket and a roll of toilet paper.
Simon laughed. He actually barked out a laugh, making you jump. "I meant you'll have to stay here with me." He clarified. "Not in the basement."
"Oh," the tenseness in your body seemed to ease up. "Good. It just feels..." you didn't finish. Too afraid to insult the man who quite literally held your life in his hands.
"No worries." he assured, finally taking his hand off of you to stand up. He held his palm out waiting for you to take his hand.
Without thinking twice, you did. Letting him help you stand even though your legs felt like they would give out at any minute. At the slight wobble of your knees, Simon took the liberty of scooping you up. A gasp escaping you.
Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck. Afraid that even though you had seen the man basically serve as a human battering-ram, you were afraid he would somehow drop you.
Simon's fingers ached to feel the softness of your thighs. He wanted to badly to come downstairs without his gear on. Bare himself to you. Reveal the face of the man behind the mask. Scars and all. He was worried that would have made it worse. Waking up in a basement, handcuffed to a bed with an unknown man aching to touch you.
He would show you his face soon enough. You would grow to love it. Each scar and imperfection on his face. His crooked nose and the touch of his calloused hands.
He planned to have you begging for it. To pepper kisses along his cheeks. Beg for his touch on your skin. Begging him to bury his fingers, his cock inside you. You would ache for him just as he had ached for you all this time.
You would fall as deeply as he had.
You would come to love your life with Simon.
No matter how long it took you to accept it.
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news4dzhozhar · 11 months
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Yasmin Porat, a survivor of the bloodshed at Kibbutz Be’eri, near the boundary with Gaza, says many Israeli civilians were killed by Israeli forces.
An Israeli woman who survived the Hamas assault on settlements near the Gaza boundary on 7 October says Israeli civilians were “undoubtedly” killed by their own security forces.
It happened when Israeli forces engaged in fierce gun battles with Palestinian fighters in Kibbutz Be’eri and fired indiscriminately at both the fighters and their Israeli prisoners.
“They eliminated everyone, including the hostages,” she told Israeli radio. “There was very, very heavy crossfire” and even tank shelling.
The woman, 44-year-old mother of three Yasmin Porat, said that prior to that, she and other civilians had been held by the Palestinians for several hours and treated “humanely.” She had fled the nearby “Nova” rave.
A recording of her interview, from the radio program Haboker Hazeh (“This Morning”) hosted by Aryeh Golan on state broadcaster Kan, has been circulating on social media.
Notably, the interview is not included in the online version of Haboker Hazeh for 15 October, the episode in which it apparently aired.
It may well have been censored due to its explosive nature.
Porat, who is from Kabri, a settlement near the Lebanese border, undoubtedly experienced terrible things and saw many noncombatants killed. Her own partner, Tal Katz, is among the dead.
However, her account undermines Israel’s official story of deliberate, wanton murder by the Palestinian fighters.
Although it no longer appears on the Kan website, there can be little doubt about the recording’s authenticity.
At least one Hebrew-language account posted part of the interview on Twitter, now officially called X, and accused Kan of functioning as “media in the service of Hamas.”
Porat also gave her account to the Israeli newspaper Maariv.
However, the Maariv story, published on 9 October, makes no specific mention of civilians being killed by Israeli forces.
And in a half-hour interview with Israel’s Channel 12 on Thursday, Porat speaks of intense gunfire after Israeli forces arrived. Porat herself received a bullet in the thigh.
Not only does Porat tell Kan that Israelis were killed in the heavy counterattack by Israeli security forces, but she says she and other captive civilians were well treated by the Palestinian fighters.
Porat had been attending the “Nova” rave when the Hamas assault began with missiles and motorized paragliders. She and her partner Tal Katz escaped by car to nearby Kibbutz Be’eri where many of the events she describes in her media interviews took place.
According to Porat speaking to Maariv, she and Katz initially sought refuge in the house of a couple called Adi and Hadas Dagan. After the Palestinian fighters found them they were all taken to another house, where eight people were already being held captive and one person was dead.
Porat said that the wife of the dead man “told us that when they [the Hamas fighters] tried to enter, the guy tried to prevent them from entering and grabbed the door. They shot at the door and he was killed. They did not execute them.”
“They did not abuse us. They treated us very humanely,” Porat explained to a surprised Golan in the Kan radio interview.
“By that I mean they guard us,” she said. “They give us something to drink here and there. When they see we are nervous they calm us down. It was very frightening but no one treated us violently. Luckily nothing happened to me like what I heard in the media.”
“They were very humane towards us,” Porat said in her Channel 12 interview. She recalled that one Palestinian fighter who spoke Hebrew, “told me, ‘Look at me well, were not going to kill you. We want to take you to Gaza. We are not going to kill you. So be calm, you’re not going to die.’ Thats what he told me, in those words.”
“I was calm because I knew nothing would happen to me,” she added.
“They told us that we would not die, that they wanted to take us to Gaza and that the next day they would return us to the border,” Porat told Maariv.
In the Channel 12 interview, Porat elaborates that although the Palestinian fighters all had loaded weapons, she never saw them shoot captives or threaten them with their guns.
In addition to providing the captives with drinking water, she said the fighters let them go outside to the lawn because it was hot, especially as the electricity was cut.
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aux-squiggle · 3 months
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BRITISH COMMUNIST PARTY SAYS SEX WORK ISN'T WORK
To be more specific, they say the mantra "sex work is work" should be retracted by trade unionists and society at large.
Some highlights:
Women and girls should be able to secure well-paid jobs, good housing and education without the need to prostitute themselves. Prostitution is not a genuine and free choice; it is a survival behaviour, mostly engaged in by working class women and girls who suffer economic disadvantage.
Prostitution is inherently violent and requires in and of itself the subjugation of women and girls – there is no form of work where this could ever be acceptable.
Health and safety regulation is impossible in the sex trade: in any occupation that involves exposure to bodily fluids workers wear masks, gloves, gowns, and goggles to protect themselves. Prostitutes can never benefit from these levels of protection because of the nature of prostitution.
Extreme levels of violence, rape, degradation, and humiliation cannot be regulated against as they are part and parcel of prostitution. Such levels of harm against workers in work would never be tolerated. Women in prostitution experience more physical and sexual violence that women on average. A study by Germany’s federal Ministry for Family Affairs, Senior Citizens, Women and Youth reports that 41% of women in prostitution experience physical or sexual violence, or both, in the context of prostitution.
The sexual sadism that prostitutes are exposed to causes the type of physical internal injuries and psychological trauma that should never be accepted in the world of work.
The murder rate is particularly high in the sex trade. Prostitutes are almost nine times more likely to be killed than soldiers in combat. Legalisation of the sex trade does not protect the lives of prostitutes. Since Germany’s legalisation of the sex trade in 2022, there have been 85 homicides of prostituted persons committed by clients. In addition, there have been at least 49 attempted homicides.
Pregnancy and even multiple pregnancies are risks arising out of prostitution which have adverse implications for the woman herself, for children born out of prostitution, and for society itself. This should never be accepted as an overhead of “employment”.
The high levels of substance use necessary to enable prostitutes to cope with the abusive practices of the men who buy sex should never be tolerated in the world of work.
Alternating bolding for readability.
Highly suggest reading the whole thing!
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