#y'all apparently cats' purrs are like

[tumblasha]

izuku "blessed" panel moment

those of you who follow me on my irl twitter may have read say the title of this blogpost in one of my tweets. the actual reference is to a panel in my hero academia where midoriya izuku is eating dinner with his classmates and reflects on his current enjoyment of life (his mentor is proud of him, his love interest is talking to him, he's gaining control of his superpowers / quirks). it all culminates in this moment where he says in one panel "i am too...", leading to the panel i'm referencing: "blessed" (then there's a joke bc one of the characters is trying to ask him for some sauce on the table and izuku is too distracted lmao).

i used to tweet this out whenever i spent some random night with college friends: we'd prob be drunk in the kitchen and watching tv. this panel is the last of izuku's thoughts we see before He Literally Starts Fighting The Big Bad TM In A War, and that's how i saw college graduation (i used to see it as a big separator from those friends / ppl i'd never see again).

now i think abt this panel more often but with less of the Fighting A War aspect. mostly bc i AM seeing my friends after graduation!!! i've already visited some of y'all and i'll see others later this year :))

here's a list of some of those moments where i'm just grateful for existing:

my lesbian cats sleeping next to me on the couch, occasionally waking up to stretch / snuggle closer to me

drinking with my roommate and her best friend

the kid i'm volunteer-tutoring to read is doing so well! and i'm helping her with some math too!!

re-learning french for my friend who "doesn't like speaking english in big cities" lol

eating some really good food + reading a really good book

having the power to plan vacations to see ppl (esp M in the spring + K in the summer!)

putting up polaroids of the cats on the fridge

giving my parents Nice Presents

my teammates they/them-ing me during team meetings

(and prob so many more i'm forgetting)

idk, feeling slightly emotional on this friday night

[sammyaftxn]

︴✧Dating husk headcanons ✧︴

Gn reader, general hcs for husker :3

When you first arrived at the hotel, you we're genuinely seeking redemption.

Your life wasn't horrible per-say, but you had definitely done some hell-worthy things, thus ending up down here.

When husk first saw you, he wasn't even paying attention. He simply saw a new resident and payed no mind

Although, you made an effort to bother him into being friends

You sat by the bar every once in a while and started up a few conversations, mostly with him grumbling a response.

After a while, he realized you were the only one at the hotel being genuine with him. You didn't put up an act or fake anything

He started talking to you more and more

Shit, does he actually enjoy your company?

Apparently, yes, because the two of you would talk more and more

He started noticing the little things

How you looked absolutely gorgeous in whatever you were wearing that day

How you looked into his eyes with such a caring gaze

Fuck he's so in love

When angel caught on that a little something was going on, he first came to you

Trying to convince you to go for it

Obviously you were reluctant

Luckily you didn't have to do anything!

Husk was drunk out of his mind talking to you at the bar, when he just threw out a few compliments and ended it with "mghfh-wish ya' were ma' girlfriend honestly..."

Fell asleep right after

Wtf do you do after that?????

The day after you full confessed and started dating!!!

Things about dating husk:

This man can NOT tie his own bowtie. Wore a clip-on for years because his paws were so big

You do it for him!! Help this big boy get a proper bowtie on

He is surprisingly cuddly, he's just very embarrassed about it.

It'll probably take a few months before he's fully opened up to sleeping with you (not like that y'all 😭)

He has trust issues and really needs support, but he knows you're always there for him

He's also a big fan of kisses! He loves it when you kiss his paws

Definitely gets all flushed and tries to hide it the first time you do it.

After a long day of work, all he wants to do is plop down on your chest and purr like a baby.

SPEAKING OF

this man purrs like CRAZY around you

Tries to hide it when cuddling? Fails miserably.

But you reassure him that you love his purring.

"Did you know cat's purring has been proven to have therapeutic benefits?"

That definitely calms his insecurities a bit

Overall 9/10 boyfriend. 1 point taken for alcoholismLMAO

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! requests are open! Please send in asks ♡

I write for everyone ‼️

[kunikinnie]

Hey if your requests are open could you make hcs about DoA as cats?

a/n: hi! they weren't open at the time this was sent but I hope you don't mind me answering this weeks later!

the decay of angels as cats

Fyodor Dostoyevsky

The type of cat who does whatever tf he wants

Most of the time he sits/lies near the window and stares at nothing in particular. Sometimes though, he sits at a considerable distance from you but you can tell he's staring at you very intently.

During the day he does leave the house sometimes to go out for walks (or so you assume), but most of the time he leaves in the dead of night. Y'all know what he's up to.

He's a weak and picky eater - one of the reasons why he's on the skinny side and why he looks so lethargic.

You've never heard him meow. Never. Not even once.

Nikolai Gogol

Super energetic cat

He's fun to play with since he does use the expensive cat toys you buy for him.

But he very much prefers annoying playing with the Fyodor cat. For example, he keeps toying with Fyodor's swishing tail until the latter swats him hard in the face.

He's extremely temperamental. One moment he's rolling around the floor high af and the next he's ignoring you and contemplating life like Pablo Escobar.

Used to bring you his catch (dead or alive, but mostly alive because your reactions were better) until you didn't feed him any of his favorite treats. He's behaved a little bit since then.

Fukuchi Ochi

He's rarely at home but you have an idea where he is... sort of

He's usually with those 4 younger cats but occasionally he stalks hangs out with a certain middle aged man who's very fond of cats.

Despite his age he's very good at fighting. Very good at fighting. His body is full of scars and oftentimes stained with blood (not his obviously)

Now the side of him you're familiar with is a strange but quite affectionate senior cat. You already noticed that he tends to be rough with others but you didn't think much of it.

Well, whatever. It's not like he's planning world domination or something like that, right?

Bram Stoker

A cat whose age you have no idea about

Probably not actually allergic to the sun, but avoids it all the same. He likes sitting in the dark (and in soft places).

He also likes sitting near you and observing what you do, especially when you're with your gadgets. A paw might interfere with you work every now and then.

It seems that he likes listening to your music, so when your speakers are out and playing something he lies down nearby (this is also when he purrs the loudest).

For some reason, no matter how hurt he gets he never bites you. He's never bitten any of your visitors (no matter how rough they get with him) even though the murderous intent in his eyes are so apparent.

Sigma

Peaceful but very territorial house cat

He loves sitting in high places where he can see everything. And I mean everything. It makes him feel safe and smart

When there are other cats around, he acts all tough and manly. Growls, hisses, and fights people when they invade his space

But once he's alone with you, he won't leave you alone. He might die if you don't cuddle with him at night.

Eats whatever sweet stuff you have lying around. Even the back of spoons and other equipment, if you bake. You've tried to stop him several times (sweets and chocolates are bad for their health) but he just. won't. stop.

[casual-therian]

I've noticed a a few lil things i tend to do that i learned were from being a (cat) therian that i might as well share while I'm here (under cut since i didn't want this post to be too long)

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

Ok so we all know that cats can make biscuits right? Ik it's originally to get milk out of their mom's and more times than not us just a habit for them but still

Well I've noticed that i tend to do exactly that but with my feet, and when I'm very content and happy. Just silently making biscuits in like a blanket or shoes. No one ever knows when I'm doing that since it's usually hidden when i do so but still

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

If anything is waved in front of my face i will at least pat it if not play with it

Prime example being (context I'm a scare actor during Halloween session and my friend is usually the look out for customers in our area) my friend climbing up the metal tower thing, letting her foot swing and my instinct is to repeatedly pat her swinging foot. She's fine with it, we're close with each other, and is used to it btw but every time that instinct kicks in

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

As a kid (this was sadly one thing i had to heavily mask and kinda "stopped" doing for my own protection) i used to chase lights. Like lazer kinda lights.

Now i kinda "chase" them with my eyes alone, but i always have the urge to physically chase them but of course that's not acceptable-

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

I remember as a kid i used to actually act like a therian, be on all fours act fully like a cat ext. Younger kids LOVED it since i was shockingly good at it. Hell i even jumped on all fours too.

Of course now I'm... Heavily out of practice here, but my size could help with that tbh

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

So I've lived with cats around me my whole life, of course it's normal for me to hear cat noises.

So apparently (according to others who have heard me meowing back at cats anyways) i can imitate good cat noises. Mainly meowing but also the "murr"s do when you touch them when they don't expect it, yeah i can do that but it's rare

I can't figure out how to purr tho as much as i want to (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

Me. Wanting. Retractable. Claws. Paws. And. Toe. Beans.

I i say claws/paws/paw pads specifically because my teeth are already sharp to the point people thing i may be a vampire. So fangs are set by genetics apparently (though I wouldn't mind if they were sharper 👀)

Oh and a tall/ears. Both would be nice as well.

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

Speaking of tail since i tend to sleep like i have one

I am always sleeping on my side, usually in an... Unusual (human) sleeping positions...

I'm usually either sleeping like there's a tail in my face or sprawled out. I rarely sleep like a "normal" human and if i do it's usually because i want to seem as "human" as possible to not raise suspicion to them, though nowadays that's... very rare so ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

Walking around home.

I gained a habit of I'm not wearing any kind of shoes I will walk on the balls of my feet like actual paws. I won't do it when I'm wearing shoes because usually I'm out in public (plus it's uncomfortable for me to do so in shoes), but with socks or my bare feet? Yeah I'll walk like that around the house

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

Either way that's it for now. Stay safe y'all and have fun

[n7viper]

getting to know y'all~

Tagged by @commander-krios 💖 Thanks bb! I was gonna try to be cool and be like "well I tagged [these people] last time but I'm gonna tag someone else this time!" Except that it turns out I left it open last time 😎 So I'm STILL leaving it open because I'm shy today teehee :3c If you see this, you're tagged! Tag me so I can see your answers! 💖

Nickname: Just Viper :) I've been going by it for probably about 7 or 8 years now. You can call me Nic if you'd like, though. That's technically a nickname too (but is also just my name)

Sign: Aries ♈️ If you're into astrology, I'm apparently Aries sun, Pisces moon, and Libra rising. Whatever that means haha

Last Google Search: Alfajores! A friend sent me a video that had people eating them, so I asked my Chilean friend about them and also went searching for recipes. They look like tasty little cookies, and I wanna try them so badly.

Song stuck in my head: "Remember Me" by Currents

Sleep: I don't typically get as much sleep as I should. I'm a big night owl, and no amount of conditioning changes that. I usually get around 5-6 hours a night because I can't sleep until 2 or 3 but need to get up at 8. (I have tried everything, including medication, trust me) In an ideal world, my sleep schedule would be, like, 6am-2pm lol

Dream Job: This is unchanged from last time. I hate the term "dream job" but I would ideally work in a specific healthcare field or in animal welfare.

Wearing: Comfy black athletic shorts, a blue tie-dye Spiritbox t-shirt, and an Underoath hoodie from the Voyeurist Tour last year :3 (I'm seeing them in a few days, too!)

Favorite Song: Oh, I can't ever just pick one. However, according to last.fm, my most played song of all time is "Slaughterhouse (feat. Bryan Garris) by Motionless in White" with 210 scrobbles. It came out 10 months ago... lmao

Favorite Instrument: I can't play any, but my favourite to listen to is drums. I love absolutely disgusting blast beats; gets me hyped up every time.

Aesthetic: Modern, neon, or pastel-based things. I know, those are all a bit contrasting. My previous answer was fairy kei, and that still stands. Pastel goth.

Favorite Authors: I also don't read books much anymore. My favourite authors are all of the gay ppl writing fanfic in my phone 😘

Favorite Colour: PINK! Pink pink pink pink! I tend to gravitate more towards softer blushes or baby pinks, but most pinks are good. Green used to be my favourite as a kid, and I'm still partial to it.

Favorite animal sound: Same as Kay - cats purring. Alice has a slightly squeaky purr, and it melts my heart every time. It never gets old.

Last song: I'm listening to "Call of the Wild" by Powerwolf right this second.

Last series: I don't really watch much TV. I keep up with AEW Dynamite and Rampage every week, but that's not exactly the same. I binged the first 6 seasons of Letterkenny recently.

Random: Is mashed potatoes and gravy a whole meal? Because that's what I ate for lunch at 3:30pm like a normal human.

[melwritesstufff]

Damian crush headcanon

Absolutely nobody asked for this but headcanons and stuff like this help me get a better Understanding of characters. I’ve never written for Dami before and it’s been a bit since i’ve written so this might be a bit bad. Please leave any advice or criticism for me!

You and Dami first met through him being forced to attend school by Bruce. (Bruce wants him to have somewhat of a normal childhood, even if it’s barely a sliver of normality) 

He doesn’t even notice you until you are paired up to do a school project together

He absolutely hates it, and you, at first. He tries to bribe the teacher to let him work alone, but it’s a project that requires a partner. And apparently, you were the only one willing to work with him

So now he’s stuck with you. He decides to just get things over with as fast as he can, telling you he’ll do all the work and you can just piggy-back off of his work and take credit for half of the project

You have some dignity, though, and you weren’t about to let some snobby rich boy push you around like that. Especially after you offered to work with him when nobody else would

So you yell at him persuade Damian to let you work on at least some of the project, despite his whole “I work alone” speech that he seems to give everyone, including teachers.

Finally, he gives in and tells you he’ll work with you

Long story short, after the project, Damian learns that you’re actually a very driven, smart and good person. And for some reason, he finds himself drawn to you

So he ends up hanging around you and inviting you to the manor quite often, although he would never admit that he actually enjoys your presence. Only that you’re “the only person in this whole academy that I can tolerate” - his exact words, btw

While you visit the manor, Dami introduces you to his abundance of pets, and is quite surprised when they all seem to like you. Even Alfred the cat; and he doesn’t like anybody. I mean he’s a cat. But when Alfred rubs on your leg and purrs instantly upon meeting you? Dami can’t help but feel impressed. And he didn’t know it yet, but this was the exact moment he fell for you. And believe me when I say he fell hard.

It takes him quite a while for him to realize his feelings, and even longer to admit it out loud.

His upbringing was not an easy one, and he was taught that such feelings were bad, a sign of weakness. So that’s what he took it as. A weakness. He started pushing you away and only when Dick noticed this and gave him a huge scolding did he stop.

Dick sat him down and forced Dami to talk to him. After doing so, Dick told him that having feelings and emotions wasn’t a weakness, and is often seen as a strength. Bruce, Talia and them may be emotionally stunted, but that doesn’t mean their children have to be stuck in the same loop. Dick hopes you’ll be the one to bring Dami out of that loop.

So Dami starts hanging out with you again, after finally caving in to three straight days of Dicks advice and scoldings

It’s nice, and for a while, he can ignore his feelings. He can ignore how when you look at him his heart races. Or how you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever met. Or how when you talk about the things you're interested in, your eyes light up and your voice gets a bit higher. Or how you’re one of the few people who actually make him feel something. That last one is a big one for him, and it gets pretty hard to ignore sometimes.

So Damian finally admits he has a crush on you, not to you, but to himself. The only problem is he refuses to admit it to you. No matter how many lectures he gets from Dick.

That is, until you see him as Robin.

You had met Robin on a few other occasions, and every time he seemed weirdly familiar. The reason was one you could never put a finger on. Until you saw it.

One time, you had forgotten your backpack in his room. When you went to get it back, you walked into his room to find Damian in full Robin suit. All except for the iconic domino mask.

He completely froze when he saw you. Weren’t you supposed to be gone? On your way back home? Why are you still here? How did he not hear you? He was an ex assassin trained by the best how did he not notice you?

“Uh, I just forgot my backpack.” You broke the awkward silence, grabbed your stuff, then left.

The incident wasn’t brought up again until a few days later when the weekend was over and you were both back at school.

Damian almost bailed, scared on what you would say, what you would do. But, like he always does, Dick butted in and forced Dami to go. So he did, reluctantly though.

Throughout the entire school day, you and Damian ignored each other. Everyone hated it. You hated it because you just learned your best friend was out every night fighting crime and putting himself in danger. Damian hated it because he could lose you, both as a friend and a romantic interest, though he feared losing you as a friend more. He could deal with being rejected romantically but losing you as a friend might just push him over the edge of emotional instability. The rest of your classmates hated it because Damian was acting especially cold to everyone. The energy in every room the two of you were in was suffocating and quite awful. Nobody liked it.

You decide to put a stop to it though, and pull him aside during lunch. Finally deciding on something to say.

Damian thinks you’re going to stop being friends with him, or blackmail him, or something awfully similar. He hated himself for making such an easy slip up. For being so weak as to open up to you. For letting you into his heart.

Those worries and thoughts are put on pause though as, as soon as the two of you are in the privacy of the rich school's huge courtyard, you hug him. You throw your arms around his neck and almost knock him over.

His heart almost breaks as he hears your soft sniffles while you cry into his shoulder.

“Y/n I-“

You cut him off before he could say anything

“Thank god you’re safe! God, Dami, you have no idea how much I’ve worried about you the past few days. Knowing who you are, what you’re doing every night? It was terrifying. It is terrifying. I was so scared something was going to happen to you. I-i just, i..oh god Dami I’m just so glad you even showed up today.” you just burst into tears and this time his heart does break. He felt so guilty for what he did, or really for what he didn’t do. For what he didn’t tell you.

“I… I’m sorry, Habibti. I should have told you I know. I was, I’m just trying to keep you safe. If you knew, it would put you in danger. I just want you to be safe.”

This is the first time you’ve ever heard Damian apologize, and he was surprisingly good at it.

“Don’t you think i worry for your safety too? It’s just, Dami, I’m your best friend. Don’t you trust me?” You broke the hug to look into his eyes, almost trying to look for the truth.

“Of course i trust you, i just-“ you cut him off

“What else have you been hiding from me? Please, just tell me. I need to know, especially if it puts you in danger”

At that moment, Damian knew exactly what he wanted to tell you. He wanted to tell you everything. From his terrible upbringing to his nightly adventures as Robin. So he did. He explained everything, and hearing all those terrible things he was forced to endure was incredibly saddening and it was difficult for you not to just tackle him in a hug. To tell him you were sorry he had to go through all that. To tell him you love him and you’re never going to let anyone else hurt him like that. But you didn’t. You just sat across from him and let him talk. Let him explain everything.

At the end of it all, you were both crying softly. There was a long silence after Damian finished explaining everything. But there was one more thing he needed to say. He already told you everything else, so he might as well tell you this as well.

“There’s one last thing, y/n.”

“I… I’m in love with you. At least, I think I am. I’m still not quite sure what love is but i think i feel it for you. I understand if you don't feel the same. I can just-”

You cut him off with a soft kiss on his lips

It was short, but you could still taste the salty tears that ran down to his lips

“You idiot, of course I feel the same way.”

“Really? But, being with me would put you through so much danger. It’s not safe to be around me, I’m not safe to be around. I’m an assassin, Habibti. You have to understand,”

“I do understand, Dami. And I don't care. You’re worth being in danger for. And I know you would never hurt me or let me get hurt. Assassin or not, you’d never let it happen.”

Then the bell rings and you two have to go back to class, but you make an agreement to meet up after school and go to the mansion.

When you two arrive, Dick is happy to see you both getting along again. And seeing that the two of you are holding hands as you walk in just makes him even more ecstatic.

When Bruce sees the two of you, he smiles. Like an actual genuine smile. He’s proud of his son for breaking the cycle and opening up to someone.

It’s like 4am rn and I’m too tired to wrap this up so i hope y'all enjoyed this. I’ve never written for Damian before so idk if i did him right. Please leave any criticism or advice for me y’all’s have. Thanks so much! Bye bye :)

[general-cyno]

tagged by @myolniir thank you cari! and merry christmas/happy holidays 🎉💖

nickname: jay, joha, johnny

gender: transmasc (he/him pls)

star sign: aries

height: 1.57m which is like 5'2 i think? I'm tiny

bday: april 1st and honestly i'm grateful colombia doesn't celebrate april's fool lmao the holiday equivalent is on december actually

fave bands: fall out boy, panic! at the disco, florence + the machine, dorothy, royal blood, walk the moon, neon trees, of monsters and men, imagine dragons, paramore, welshly arms, ETC

fave solo artists: ngl this actually made me realize i don't listen much to solo artists lmao, the ones that come to mind are lady gaga, dua lipa, marina diamandis, zayde wolf, lola indigo, rina sawayama, pabllo vittar........and idk who else sjsksks

song stuck in my head: rn it's lonely in tokyo by mirei (surprisingly a good youtube ad recommendation)

last movie: freaky (2020), it was pretty funny

last show: i can't remember rn??????? but im currently watching the tian guan ci fu donghua and jujutsu kaisen anime

when was this blog made: digging through my emails, apparently it was made 7 years ago on july 18

what i post: literally anything lmao, mostly danmei, art, movies, shitposts and random tv shows as of late

last thing i googled: a local cinema bc im gonna go watch a movie with my friends today!

other blogs: @miqthythor which is my comic books sideblog, i used to make/post comic edits and stuff but don't use it that much anymore (or make edits for that matter)

do i get asks: sometimes! tho i think I've gotten more asks this year than in all the other years I've been here lmao

why i chose my url: i was sick of vl/d and i got very into rdr2 back then so. i have some 2ha urls saved so i'll likely change it soon tho

following: 291

followers: hit 2k recently which is still amazing to me. what are y'all doing here. love u guys

average hours of sleep: around 5-6 hours if insomnia doesn't hit

lucky number: 13

instruments: none, unfortunately

what i'm wearing: an old black justice league tshirt and some shorts

dream job: actually getting a job someday

dream trip: i'd like to travel around colombia bc there's a lot of places i don't know since my family doesn't travel much

fave food: PORK TAMALES, fried fish with patacones, RICE, pretty much any soup, chicken in any form basically, different fast foods, etc

nationality: colombian

fave song: so many sjsjsjsjs can't really choose one

last book: the black prince by ariana nash, it's part of the silk and steel book series

fave authors: don't really have favorites tbh (doesn't mean they aren't good writers btw) it's just that i read books at random mostly and only keep tabs on the author if i've read and loved more than 3 or 4 of their books (the only ones i can think of rn are some danmei authors), i do have a lot of favorite books tho

fave animals noises: cat purrs are so cute

random: i can do like 4 or 5 different pitched voices and all of them sound different sjsjsj i can also imitate accents

[yodawgiherd]

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

Rating: E

>>>Read on AO3<<<

Heads up, if you don't want to read some hardcore smut, feel totally free to skip this one, I made sure that nothing important plot-wise happens here. Totally self-indulgent (while also kind of filling a prompt???), way too long, you know the drill. If you did decide to give this a go then I hope that you'll enjoy it. ;)

Title borrowed from AC/DC, but I guess y'all know that.

Stupid dreams. Dumb stupid dreams and the feelings they left inside her anytime she had them. Ever since childhood, sleeping brought her nothing but trouble. First the nightmares, stalking her through every rest and tormenting her with the tragedy of her childhood, and now, when after years she finally seemed to be getting them under control, not completely eliminating them mind you, this started happening. New dreams, new problems. Nowadays, Mikasa had other kind of night visions not letting her sleep.

They changed, night from night, but some variables remained the same, creating a pattern which wasn’t hard to follow. It was always dark, and she was naked and bound, the positions different every time. Sometimes she was on her back, sometimes face-down, hands behind her, sometimes she was tied to the bed instead. At the start, there was nothing, just her, listening to the silence, but then some unseen door opened, and a presence entered. Mikasa could never see who it was, as the face was just a mass of shadows, but deep down she had the feeling that she knew the man. He didn’t say anything, and neither did she, and after a minute or so of just watching her, the shape stepped forward and his hands descended on her body without uttering a word. 

The touch was cold, sending shivers down her spine, traveling lower and lower, until his fingers reached the apex of her thighs, invading her most private area. The shadow played with her, listening to her gasp and moan, not reacting in any way to the sounds she made. He didn’t care when she complained. He didn’t care when she cried. He simply acted. And after some time, Mikasa could feel the bed around her dip as he climbed on, spreading her legs with strong hands, and took her, forcefully, against her will, ignoring how much she begged him to stop. That was the point when she usually woke up. And the thing that scared her the most? It wasn’t the dream, the cold touch, or the rough way he entered her, it was the feelings she had when she woke up. It wasn’t fear, disgust, or any of the emotions that would be perfectly reasonable to have after a vision like that. For reasons unknown to her, Mikasa was always terribly aroused instead.

After some research on the internet, she found out that this fetish, if it could be called one, wasn’t that terribly uncommon as she feared, many women seemed to be into this kind of thing. While that was all well and good, it didn’t solve the issue she had. How in the world was she supposed to break this thing to Eren? Would he even be willing to do it? Honestly, she was kind of afraid that she will scare him with this, so Mikasa kept her mouth shut, for now, trying to figure out the best way of formulating this quite unusual request.

“Miki, you okay?”

Oh shit, her daydreaming must have been too evident, because Eren was looking at her over the table with a clear question in his eyes, maybe even a bit of concern. Forcing a smile on her face, she picked the fork back up, digging into the salad with renewed vigor.

“Everything’s fine, I’m great.”, she gestured towards her food, hoping to distract him, “This is amazing by the way.”

But as usual, Eren’s emerald gaze seemed to pierce right through her deception tactic.

“C’mon, talk to me. Please?”, reaching over, he took hold of her hand, squeezing it gently, “What’s wrong?”

“I…Ugh.. Nothing, really.”

“Really? Because it’s not just this, it didn’t escape me how you act in the morning sometimes. How quickly you rush over to the bathroom to get a cold shower right after waking up, or how you avoid me for a few hours after. What’s happening?”

“I can’t… I can’t tell you, it’s weird.”, she shook her head, “Just drop it.”

He wouldn’t give up that easily.

“Miki…”, with a decisive move, Eren stood up, rounding the table and pulling her after himself, until they could sit down on the couch, facing each other.

“Seriously, after the things we’ve done, why are you afraid of telling me something weird?”

His reasoning was too good, but Mikasa wasn’t ready to give up yet. Crossing her arms, she looked away from him, pouting slightly. Screw Eren and his mind-reading abilities. Fingers appeared under her chin, stroking the soft skin there, so nicely that It made her purr. Damn automated body responses.

“You remember the cat ears?”

“Uhm… Yes?”

What does that have to do with anything?

“And do you remember how you had to press me before I told you how much I liked them?”

“Of course.”, that was funny, the way he squirmed when she pressed him against the wall, demanding to know why he acted like an asshole the whole night.

“See, this is totally the same situation. You have something you want to try, but you won’t tell me, cause you think that I will freak out or something.”, the stroking hand took hold of her chin instead, tilting it so she would look at him, “Baby, you fucked me in the ass multiple times at this point. There’s nothing that will make me think that you are weird.”

All right then, he asked for it. Taking a deep breath, Mikasa redirected her gaze back at her hands, not feeling like talking and being face to face with him right now. She was sure she’s going to blush herself to death.

“I want to do CNC with you.”

“What’s that?”

“Consensual non-consent… It’s…”, she finally did look up, despite the redness of her cheeks, wanting to see his reaction when she explains herself, “rape play basically. I want you to take me against my will, or more like, pretend to do that. Understand?”

This was exactly what she feared, the look that appeared in his eyes., like she just announced that she’s dropping her fighting career to pursue a newfound fascination in knitting. Right, time to make an exit now, when she can at least pretend to preserve some scraps of dignity.

“I told you, it’s stupid.”, Mikasa stood up, “Just forget about it and….”

Eren caught her hand, pulling her back to sit, shaking his head.

“Hey, easy, I’m just surprised a bit, that’s all.”, he let out a long exhale, apparently coming to terms with what she just said, “Give me a second.”

Once again not feeling particularly keen on having eye contact, Mikasa fidgeted with her fingers instead, waiting for him to sort out the thing she dropped.

“Right, so…”, Eren cleared his throat, making her look back up, “how exactly do you want me to do it? I would really appreciate some pointers, because I never really thought about… you know… forcing myself on anyone.”

Oh yes, she could help him out with that. Mikasa spent some steamy hours fantasizing about what she would want this encounter to look like, so she had a number of ideas. And without further ado, they started spilling.

“I’d want you to ambush me, somehow, drag me to the bed, tie me up there..”, her imagination was running wild by now, wanting to tell him everything before this burst of courage wears down, which was bound to happen, sooner or later. “and I want you to have your way with me.”

“My way?”

“Yes, just... you know… fuck me. But not as you usually do.”

Eren laughed at this one.

“And I’m supposed to do it differently how? I’m sorry to disappoint you but I have only one penis.”

“That’s not what I mean.”, she threw him a frustrated look, “When we normally have sex, you always care about my pleasure too, usually even more than you do about your own. This time, I want you to only care about yourself, just use me as you wish, with no concerns about how I feel.”

“Okay…”, Eren was chewing on his bottom lip now, thinking, but he didn’t seem disgusted or anything. His face was curious. “Anything else?”

“Well, you could throw in some verbal abuse, degradation, stuff like that. Oh, and one last thing, but this one is not necessary.”

He motioned for her to go on. Well, time to test her luck.

“I want you to drug me.”

Now Eren’s eyes were really popping out of his head.

“You want what?”

“Drug, sedate, something like that. Put some pills in my food so I can fight back as much as I can when you take me, but I won’t be able to win. Because I don’t really want to win there.”

“Miki, this is heavy, you understand that?”

“I do.”, she nodded, “Completely. And I’m sure that I want it.”

She spent enough time thinking about it and weighing pros and cons to be certain.

“The only question is,”, she continued, “are you willing to do it? Be honest, please. I don’t want you to force yourself because of me. If you would be uncomfortable with this, I’ll drop it, I promise.”

Gears turning in his head, Eren stood up, walking back and forth a few times, before sitting back down, taking a breather.

“I am.”, he finally announced, and the two simple words made Mikasa’s pulse speed up. Was he really agreeing to it?

“But I have three conditions.”

“Sure, what are they?”

“First, I wont gag you during the play, so you can always safeword out.”

Sure, that would take away a little bit of the authenticity of a real thing, but she wasn’t surprised that Eren wanted her to have a way out. The thing she asked him to do was very, very intense, and it will be easy enough to get lost in it.

“Second,”, he went on, “the thing I drug you with, it can’t be anything strong. Just some muscle relaxant or something, but nothing to knock you out or make you high. And most importantly, if you feel uncomfortable with anything, and I mean anything, I will do, I want you to use the safeword immediately. Understand?”

That was okay. After all, she didn’t want to sleep through the play, she wanted to experience it all, lucid. Mikasa just didn’t want to feel strong during it, she wanted to be helpless, as in her dreams, and a bit of sedative should help her with that. Honestly speaking, she was still surprised that Eren agreed to that drugging point.

“Those are fine by me.”, she said out loud, “Anything else?”

“Just that I decide when we do the thing.”

“Sure, but how will I know?”

“Oh, don’t worry.”, an ominous smile appeared on his lips, “You will baby, you will.”

Even with Eren on board, Mikasa still felt the need to justify it for him, just a little bit more. It was her dream after all, and she secretly really hoped that it will be as hardcore as she wanted it to be.

“You can think of it as a late birthday present for me.”

“Right. That would make it the perfect porn title.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know,”, Eren’s voice took a different tone, as if he was announcing something, “I tie my girlfriend up and give her the hardcore fuck for her birthday. Directed by Eren Yeager.”

“Good to know that you have it all figured out.”

“Perfectly. If everything else fails, we are taking the porn biz by storm!”

Despite the seriousness of their conversation, Mikasa could feel herself smiling.

“Can’t wait.”

It was rather easy to spot. Few days later, Eren brought her a cup of tea in the evening, and while that was nothing that out of ordinary, the way he handed it to her surely was.

“You sure you want to drink it?”, he asked, slowly, to make sure that she understands what’s he saying.

Mikasa thought about it before, a long time really, and yes, she was sure. She wanted this. With a nod, she reached out, taking the cup from him.

“I am.”

“All right then.”, Eren straightened, scratching the back of his head, “I need to go for my evening shift, so enjoy your tea.”

She watched him take his bag and leave, only turning in the door back towards her, eyes unreadable.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Of course, I do. Love you too. Stay safe.”

She only loved him more that he was willing to indulge even the darkest of her desires so readily. The door closed with a click, and Mikasa was alone. Lifting the cup to her lips, she took a sip, grimacing a bit at the bitter taste, most likely caused by the drug. With embers of excitement smoking in her stomach, she drank it all in one big gulp, putting the cup down. There, she took it, let the play begin. Now all she had to do was wait right? Anxiety, nervousness, a tiny bit of fear, it all mixed together, making her pace around the house wiggling her fingers when they started to feel numb. In the end, she decided to just go ahead and take a shower, both to kill time, and because for the things to come, it was better to be as clean as possible. Under the water, with the warm liquid spreading all over her skin, Mikasa could clearly feel the effects of the drug, weakening her muscles, forcing her to lean on the wall for a second to come to terms with it. Whatever Eren gave her, it wasn’t very strong, as her mind didn’t feel foggy at all, but her body was surely far from the peak performance. Finishing her bath as quickly as possible, she dried off, covering herself with the towel as she left the bathroom in search for some clothes. That’s when she was attacked.

Strong hand wrapping around her neck from behind, the other around her waist, she was squeezed with a force that made the air leave her lungs. Instincts kicking in, Mikasa immediately started fighting against the hold, but to her horror realized one thing. She couldn’t break it. Whoever was holding her was rather strong, and with the drug in her system, she simply didn’t have the force necessary. That didn’t mean that she stopped trying however, still pulling with all her might, much to the amusement of her assailant.

“Feisty are we?”, he whispered into her ear, voice muffled by something she couldn’t recognize. “That’s all right, I like my women wild.”

“Let me go you bastard!”, she screamed back, increasing her efforts.

“Nah, I don’t think I’ll do that.”

The hand around her throat increased the pressure, and Mikasa was soon running out of air with no way to replace it. The hold was merciless, choking her until she was on the verge of fainting, only then pulling back to let her cough and suck the blessed air into her lungs, all thoughts of fight leaving her. Her attacker took advantage of her state, quickly dragging her someplace, and Mikasa had no idea where they were going until he threw her on the bed, the soft material cushioning her fall. Dazed by the impact combined with the lack of oxygen, Mikasa felt mightily disoriented, reaching out to feel the bedding around her with unsteady fingers. The man didn’t seem to pay attention to her right now, rummaging through the wardrobe.

“Would you look at that, the ice princess seems to enjoy some after-hours fun.”, a muffled laughter, “I’d never guess that.”

Desperate to finally get a good look at who attacked her, Mikasa managed to sit up, even with her head spinning, and pushed the strands out of her face to see. A tall figure, dressed in blue medical scrubs, long hair tied to a ponytail. He was broad-shouldered, the exposed forearms well-muscled, and when he turned back towards her she finally saw the reason why the voice was so weird. A surgical mask was covering the lower part of his face, hiding it from view.

“Who are you?”, she demanded, trying her best to prevent her voice from shaking in fear, “What do you want?”

The medic let out a dark laugh, coming closer to the bed and dumping whatever he collected on the floor before Mikasa could get a good look. His hands were also hidden, she realized, by latex gloves. He must have noticed her eyes on them, because he held a palm up for her to see.

“Wouldn’t want to leave any prints behind, would I. And for your questions.. you don’t seem to understand the game here sweetheart.”, he shook his head, “You don’t get to ask stuff. Now come here.”

As if. Moving as fast as she could Mikasa tried rolling down from the bed and towards the door, but he was faster. Hand wrapped around her ankle, and she was being pulled towards him, no matter how hard she clawed at the bed to stop him. Menacingly looming over her, he grabbed her arm and forcibly turned her over, pressing a knee to her back after to keep her in place.

“Get off!”, Mikasa screamed, squirming underneath, but his hold on her was firm. Too firm to do anything.

Leaning forward, the medic placed his mouth right next to her ear, hot breath washing over it as he spoke.

“Oh yes, keep fighting bitch. I’ll just enjoy it more when I break you.”

Shuffle of fabric later, Mikasa could feel the pull at her arms as he began putting something on her, shrugging it over her shoulders. Only when he flipped her over on her back, she realized what it was. The straitjacket. Whoever he was, he seemed to be quite experienced with this type of restraining tool, because her arms were useless and pulled to her stomach before the reality of what was happening fully entered her brain. Trying to fight against him, Mikasa kicked, getting some good hits into his thighs and torso, but all the attacker did was grunt, not slowing down in his efforts.

“I’m glad that I drugged you before sweetheart.”, a very evil chuckle cut into her ears, “I can hardly feel those kicks now.”

Closing the buckles shut, pulling the garment tight over her, he tied her with methodic movements, straightening when he was done. Enjoying the view most likely. A quick pull proved what Mikasa feared. The jacket was still completely foolproof, making both of her hands totally useless. In an attempt for revenge, she kicked him between the legs, or rather tried to, because once again he moved as fast as a snake and grabbed her foot instead.

“Your kicks might be weak, but I should still do something about the legs. Right?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Oh no, that’s what I have you here for.”

Cuff tightening around her ankle, she did her best to kick it off, to no avail of course, while he worked in silence, only grunting when she tried really hard to pull her legs away from him. The second followed the first, and the stiffness afterwards confirmed Mikasa’s suspicions. That bastard just tied her to a spreader bar, forcing her legs apart. The cold reality of what was about to happen finally seemed to wash over her, and she started shaking, terrified.

“P-Please don’t do this. Just take what you want… I have money.”

He leaned forward, looking right into her eyes, green above the blue mask.

“If you think this is about cash, you haven’t been paying attention.”

Those emerald fires flicked downward from her face, as he seemed to notice her chest, squeezing the supple flesh roughly with his hands.

“Nice tits.”

The last embers of desperation in her caught fire, and she screamed in defiance, thrashing in her bonds, pulling with all her strength, but it was completely useless. It held. The gloved hand moved back from her chest to her throat, squeezing the air out of her, forcing her to calm as her vision darkened.

“Sedated, but still so violent.”, he clicked his tongue, “Seems like I have to increase the dosage next time.”

“Please no. Don’t. I have a boyfriend.”, the tears of frustration appeared in the corners of her eyes, sliding down over the skin, “You can’t do this to me.”

“Do you? Well, too bad for the guy then.”

Fingers, sliding down over her stomach, past the tiny trimmed stripe of dark hair, between her legs, forced open by the bar. Cold tips traced up and down her slit, the latex freezing against the heated skin. Mikasa tried to shy away from the touch, to close her thighs, anything, but she was helpless, pinned down like a butterfly in a display case.

“From where I’m standing,”, he whispered, so low and dark that it made her shiver, “It looks like I totally can do what I want with you.”, finger pressed into her, sliding in, “And I will.”

Screwing her eyes shut, tilting her head away, Mikasa pressed her lips tightly together, hoping that no sound will escape her, trying to take away as much of his fun as she could. To her credit, she did manage to hold most of them in, while his fingers moved in and out of her in a slow tempo.

“All this talk about how much you don’t want this,”, a deep shove of his digits made her cry out, even through her efforts. “but you are still so fucking wet, aren’t you?”, a palm pressed against her clit, the move so familiar yet so wrong right now, “Fucking whore.”

“No.. No… Stop..”, tiny pleads Mikasa managed to push in between his movements, but all he did was ignore them, pulling out his fingers to bring them up right in front of her face.

“See?”, he asked, rolling the proof of her arousal between them, “You’re dripping.”

“No.”, she shook her head, as if the word could rewrite the reality that was glistening right before her eyes. The denial seemed to make him angry, because without further ado, he pulled his pants down, pressing his tip right against her entrance.

“I’m going to fuck you now.”, he gripped her hair, forcing her to look at him, the fire in his eyes threatening to burn her right here and there. “And you’ll take it, because you are a good little slut, aren’t you?”

Maybe he had her beaten, tied up and at his mercy. Maybe he could take her body, do whatever he wanted to her, but he couldn’t take her mind. Not this easily. In the best show of defiance she could think of, Mikasa spat in his face.

“Fuck you.”

Completely calm, he wiped the spit from his face. The slap that followed was powerful, making her ears ring, but that was far from the worst he did. Much more humiliating was the next move, as he pushed himself as deep inside her as he could, ripping a pathetic whine out of her throat. She couldn’t see his face, but Mikasa could almost imagine that satisfied fucking smirk that this show of weakness must have brought up. Determined to break her, just as he said he would, he began moving. It just felt too good, those deep thrusts, hitting all the right spots, the whines getting more and more frequent. Rough and uncaring for her, his hips picked up a pace, fucking her into the mattress. Hand tightened around her throat, as he started choking her again, most likely as a retaliation for the spit, always letting her breathe only when the stars started dancing behind her eyes. It was so good, so bad, terrible, perfect, wrong and right at the same time, it made her eyes roll back, legs shaking in the cuffs. And through it all, another decision cemented inside the tiny part of her brain that was not completely blown away right now. Mikasa wouldn’t come. She had no intention of giving him the satisfaction of seeing her come undone underneath him, against her will. Teeth pressing together, she focused on this goal, clutching to it with all her remaining mental might. Luckily for her, he didn’t bother with touching her clit, uncaring for her pleasure, so with a lot of effort, she managed to push the orgasm back, not giving in to it. It was still close. Just as Mikasa felt that her limits have been reached, he pulled out, breathing heavily.

“Damn your pussy feels good. So tight and wet for me, even with all your defiance. That reminds me..”, with a grunt, he pulled her closer to the edge of the bed, going until her head was hanging freely, hair spilling down around it. “I do have better uses for your mouth than screaming “Stop please” at me.”

Face appeared right in front of her, as the invader crouched to be on level with her.

“Now I know what you are probably thinking. Something like: If this bastard even tries to put his cock in my mouth, I’ll just bite it clear off. Did I get it right?”

Mikasa remained silent, because that was exactly what she was thinking.

“However, I would like you to consider something. You’re bound, I’m free, and I have all the time in the world to make you suffer. If I’ll feel even a hint of your teeth, I’ll just stop being nice.”, the terrified silence was the only reaction he needed, “And I’m going to hurt you, really, really bad.”

With eyes full of tears, Mikasa nodded, telling him that she understands. Satisfied, he patted her cheek.

“That’s a good girl.”

Straightening, hips pressing forward, she could feel the tip right at the seam of her lips.

“Open.”

With no other choice, she obeyed. As soon as he was in, he grabbed her hair for leverage, and began thrusting in, exactly as he liked. It was almost never like this. Even when she was with her boyfriend, Mikasa was usually in control of the act, dictating her own tempo and the things she was doing. But not now. Now, this guy was just straight up fucking her throat, using the angle to its full advantage.

“Oh fuck… This is… Ah….”, really enjoying himself apparently, he seemed to be getting more and more lost in his activity, pushing deeper and making her gag. Hungry for more, his fingers closed on her nipples, pinching, the scream that the flare of pain produced realizing as a very pleasurable vibration around his shaft. This was so humiliating and degrading. She was crying in frustration again before she realized it, tears traveling upwards now that her head was hanging over the edge of the bed. And it went on and on, until Mikasa thought that she’s going to go crazy, mouth and throat really needing a break. Her tormentor only pulled out just as he was about to finish, blowing his load all over her face and exposed chest, groaning.

“Fuck, your throat is just perfect. Feels as good as that thing between your legs.”

She didn’t want to answer him. Violated, coughing, on the edge, all Mikasa wanted to do right now was curl to a ball and cry, but her nightmare was not yet over. Collecting his bearings after a few deep breaths, the medic pulled her back to the middle of the bed, leaning over her after with an evil grin beneath the mask on his face.

“It’s time for your rectal exam miss Ackerman.”, he said, so sweetly, and flipped her over, face pressed against the mattress. That’s when she broke.

“Why? Why the fuck are you doing this? You son of a bitch!”, Mikasa screamed, pulling on the jacket again, creaking the leather, even when she knew that it was useless. She had to do something, just lying there and taking it wasn’t her way. “Let me go! You hear me? Get off and let me fucking go!”

“Why am I doing this? Well, I guess you earned the right to know.”

The bed dipped as he moved, grabbing something from the ground and throwing it on the bed, right next to her head.

“You see what that is?”

Turning her head, she tried to get the best possible angle, which wasn’t much with her face right on the bed. From what she could see, it was one of the fashion magazines, with her on the front page, wearing an expensive looking leather jacket, leaning on a bike.

“This is when I first saw you.”, his voice was right in her ear again, “And from the first moment, I just knew that I had to have you.”, burying his nose in her hair, he took a deep breath, obscenely taking in her scent. “The ice queen. The tough biker chick. The professional fighter. Look at you now.”, gloved hand, cold on her skin, creeping up to squeeze her face between the strong fingers. “Underneath me. Tied up. At my mercy. Not so tough anymore, huh? So strong? No, this is the only thing you are good for Taking my cock like a good whore.”

He pulled back, one hand coming to rest on her ass, the other staying at her neck, keeping her grounded.

“So that’s why I’m doing this. From the first time I saw you, I knew that I had to break that cold expression on your face, to see you squirm beneath me, to fuck the perfect model in her tight ass. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Broken, openly crying, trying to move away from him, slip out of the iron hold, she shook her head and begged him to stop when he pressed three fingers into her mouth, ordering her to warm them up. Mikasa didn’t even have the strength anymore to try biting him.

“You will appreciate it yourself.”, he said with a chuckle.

The cries for mercy only intensified when he did push those warmed up digits into her ass, or rather tried to. Determined to make his progress as difficult as possible, Mikasa clenched her muscles as much as she could, hoping to keep him out.

“Damn, that’s some impressive strength.”, pulling out the one finger he managed to push in, her tormentor retrieved something again, lubing it up. “But as always, I am prepared for everything.”

Metal slid into her, so slippery that she couldn’t stop it. A circle that went in, preventing her from fully closing herself up, situation he gladly took advantage of, putting his fingers back to work, and in the same time pushing his dick right back between her lower lips. She couldn’t fight back. All her prodigious strength, her years of training, completely useless when she was tied up as she was. A knee at the back of her legs kept her from even moving even a little bit, rendering her unable to shift her position. He was way too good, way too ready for her little rebellions, way too knowledgeable about her body, and the things she fought, countering everything she did. With her safely secured, he fucked her, rough and hard, indulging himself. To her horror, it felt good, and unable to hold it back anymore, Mikasa moaned, again, and again, dirty, sinful, embarrassing sounds. When she tried muffling herself by biting the sheets, he grabbed her hair, pulling at it painfully, making her arch her back and put her head up, facing the ceiling. And just like that, she was exactly as he wanted her.

“What would your fans say?”, he growled, fingers working in and out, the glove squeaking,, the wet slaps of skin on skin audible, “Your friends at the modeling agency, your training partners, if they saw you like this? Huh? Their great hero, the champion, moaning like a slut when someone fingers her ass while fucking her.”, he laughed, “They are all wrong aren’t they. You aren’t a person to look up to. You’re just a cheap whore.”

It was too much. Too overwhelming. Too perfect. She was on the edge, so close yet so far, body straining but unable to finish. It seemed that he had no intentions of going further, and movements halting, he pulled out, breathing uneven same as hers.

“Close to cumming, weren’t you? After all this crying about how much you don’t want this, fucking slut. More importantly though, how could you even think about finishing without my permission? Did I allow you to fucking finish bitch? Huh?”

When she didn’t answer, he slapped her ass, again and again, making her scream, this time from the pain, squirming beneath him. But the sting was nothing compared to the utter humiliation and helplessness she felt. And still, the nightmare was not over. Fingers disappearing, the metal following soon after, as he deemed her prepared and broken enough, Mikasa could feel a different pressure against her rear, sliding in.

“Now, do you remember what I said I was going to do earlier?”

He did to her exactly what he promised to do. He fucked her ass, hard, scattering all the pieces she just managed to pull back together again.

“Such a perfectly tight hole,”, he growled right into her ear, “this is so good, too good even. You know what, I think that I will keep you.”, tempo increasing, his movements became rougher, pressing her into the mattress with every deep thrust, “I’m going to lock you in the basement, chained and leashed, and only come down when I get the taste for any piece of your body.”, he gripped her hair again, so hard that it made Mikasa cry out in pain, angling her head back so he could see her face and she could see his. The eyes above the surgical mask were feverish, burning. “You’ll live as my sex slave, only existing to serve your master in any way that he sees fit. You’d probably even like that, wouldn’t you?”

That was when he came, right inside her, groaning into her ear like an animal. Satisfied, the deed done, he finally allowed her backside to lower itself on the bed, letting her rest in her shame, completely and utterly destroyed. Lying in the puddle of her tears after, Mikasa could hear him shuffling around, pulling his pants back up, before a familiar snap of a camera invaded her ears. Rough hand on her shoulder, he rolled her on her back, and snapped a few more picture of her ruined face, covered in tears, drool, and the remnants of his first finish.

“Just one more thing before I let you go, oh stop crying, just one more favor. You can do it, come on.”, With sure hands, he undid her straitjacket, throwing it away after. Cold touch entering her again, it made her whimper, sensitive, while he was stroking her, two fingers in, palm against her swollen clit, building up the tightness in her stomach that was just slowly dying out after all the rough fucking without her getting an orgasm even once. Mikasa didn’t have the power to fight back, even with her hands free, simply lying there, sobbing quietly. As quickly as it appeared, the touch was gone, his voice back inside her ears.

“I want you to finish yourself off. That’s right, sit up, touch yourself. Do it!”

Terrified by him, by the shouted order, Mikasa straightened, hand automatically flying between her legs, where she began stroking herself, slowly and with an unsure shaking touch, as her hands felt like water, both from fear and spending so much time tied.

“That’s right, in and out, in and out. Add another finger, you can handle it. Play with your clit a bit, don’t be stupid. You know how to pleasure yourself, don’t play stupid with me.”

He pressed her on, murmuring those little encouragements, while the camera still snapped from time to time, taking pictures of her. Naked, with spreader bar between her legs, masturbating while crying. Must have been really the picture of mental health. It was so humiliating, touching herself because he ordered her too, with him standing right in front of her obscenely spread legs, watching. The ownership it displayed, the level of his mastery over her, it felt terrible. And it also turned her on so goddamn much. To make it even better, just as she was nearing her finish, he told her to stop, and when Mikasa disobeyed, desperate as she was, he caught her hand, pulling it out of her. The loud whine that tore from her mouth, full of desperation and need, downright shameful.

“You won’t come unless I tell you to, understand?.”, he slapped her again, gripping her hair after to make Mikasa face him, “Understand!?”

“Y-Yes..”

She had no more energy to deny him, drained both mentally and physically, exhausted beyond her normal boundaries.

“Good. Then you’ll also understand that I won’t let you come unless you beg me for it.”, letting go of her hair, he straightened, resuming his position from before, “Seems like you calmed enough. Start again.”

She did, obeying, because there seemed to be no other way for her anymore. Mikasa tried hiding her pleasure this time, closing her eyes and tilting her head to cover her face with hair, but the fucking bastard caught it, and stopped her, right before the finish. Despite her wishes, he forced her to edge herself for him, torturing her abused body with her own fingers.

“Please… Please….”, the words appeared on their own, falling from her lips, accompanying the wet sounds her hand made. Mikasa had no pride anymore, no self-respect, those words lost their meaning. There was only the desire inside her, and the man who kept denying her, over and over again. The one who was still unmoved by her pleas.

“No.”

“I beg you, M-Master…”

“Beg me for what?”

She looked up, to see if he wasn’t joking, but there was no trace of amusement in his eyes. He just wanted her to say it all, spell it out for him, to prove that he really broke her. Spoiler alert, he did.

“Master, p-please, may I come?”

“Why would I let you, huh? Is it because you are my filthy whore?”

“Y-Yes.”

He shook his head.

“Say it.”

“I’m..”, she swallowed, forcing the words past her lips, “I’m your filthy whore, master, you own me.”

“That’s right, I do.”, very pleased with the results of his test, he smiled beneath the mask, “Time for your reward. Come for me.”

As if the words broke some barrier inside her, she came with a deep shove of her fingers, gasping, much to his amusement.

“That’s a good slut, cumming on command. Now lick your fingers clean. And thank me for taking pity on you.”

Still shaking, cheeks burning red, she pulled her digits out with a wet sound, putting them into her mouth and licking her sticky finish from them.

“T-Thank you s-sir.”

Grinning, he snapped a last picture, holding the phone up for her to see afterwards.

“Just a precaution, in case you would want to go to police or something.”, he wet his lips, leaning in to whisper into her ear. “The second you go talk to someone about this, those pictures will be all over the internet. And then everyone will know that you are nothing but a dirty slut. Don’t worry, I’ll visit you again, to snap some more. In fact, you can count on it”

With that, the door opened and closed, leaving her alone, dirty and shattered, completely exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Honestly speaking, Mikasa was on the verge of a total breakdown, and Eren must have sensed it, because he didn’t even bother with changing, just pulled down the mask from his face and stepped back into the room, sitting down next to her shaking body. She was a complete mess. Staring into the ceiling, jaw working silently, she didn’t even look at him when he came in, triggering the alarm brains in Eren’s head. Did he overdo it?

“Miki I…”

“Untie me.”, she interrupted him, voice cold, void of any emotion. Not sure how to respond, he obeyed, unclasping the leather buckles that held her legs tied to the spreader bar, dropping the metal on the floor after. Theoretically, she could have untied herself, but the fact that she didn’t spoke volumes about how bad she was emotionally right now. Still silent, Mikasa sat up, working her aching muscles, breathing heavily, trying to get it back under control.

“You okay?”, Eren asked, seeing that she still seemed far from normal.

She shook her head. Fuck.

“Does anything hurt? Do you need something? You want to go to the hospital? Should I call…”

She shook her head again, reaching out for him instead.

“Just hold me.”, she whispered weakly.

Immediately fulfilling that wish, Eren pulled her to his lap, wrapping her in a hug after, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. There were tears inside, fear that she needed to let out, now that everything was done. Out of nowhere, she began crying, clutching Eren a bit tighter, just to make sure that he’s really here, for her. She was shaking, hyperventilating, as if the reality of what happened finally hit her. Never, not even in her dreams, was the impact of the play this intense. Yet here she was, drenching Eren’s scrubs with her tears, just needing to let it out. Curling into a smaller ball in his lap, she did just that. Time passed. Mikasa was slowly but surely coming back to earth, while he just sat there, rubbing circles into the naked skin of her back. It felt good that he was touching her with his own hands again, not the gloves, so his touch was warm and pleasant. The tears finally drying up, Mikasa sniffed, looking up.

“Hey.”

She offered him a watery smile.

“Hi there.”

“What about now? Feeling better?”

“I think so..”, now that her most pressing need was over, she realized in what state she was. So dirty, it made her blush. “Can we take a bath?”

Not even bothering to answer, Eren stood up, picking her up, and carried her to the bathroom, for the necessary clean up. Mikasa didn’t let go of him the whole time, and now, minutes later, they sat in the tub with hot water around them, with her still planted firmly in his lap, face pressed into his neck.

“Wanna talk now?”, he whispered down, watching her reaction. Eyes fluttering open, she looked up, nodding. She wasn’t completely okay, not yet, but she knew that Eren is most likely scared shitless that he’s overdone it. Which was logical, as she literally broke down in tears after the play was done.

“Was this what you wanted?”, he asked, still uncertain.

“Yes. This was what I needed. It was great.”

“You sure? Because you did seem pretty bad, with all the crying and stuff…” he scratched his neck, embarrassed.

“It’s all right really. I had my safeword, remember? Didn’t use it.”, she shrugged, “I just got into the mindset, really deep, that’s why I cried. I was genuinely scared of you.”, Mikasa smiled, “Especially the threat that you’re gonna hurt me really bad.”

“Oh yea, I still have no idea why I even said. I mean, I had some things prepared, stuff I wanted to do, but most of the time I simply went with what felt right at the moment. I got really into it, maybe even little bit too much. I mean, you know I’d never hurt you. And the thing with me being your stalker, I hadn’t even planned that until I saw the magazine on the table.”

“You always were a great actor.”, she giggled, feeling him press a playful kiss to the top of her head, “But it was the same for me. I really felt violated… you know, terrified. I knew that it’s you, in the back of my head, but I just kinda pushed it out, hid it.”

Just the memories of what happened half and hour ago still made her shiver. The cold touch, the demanding voice, the way he touched her even with her crying and begging for him to stop. Intoxicating. But replaying the events brought back one question, one she really wanted to have answered.

“Eren?”, he hummed, signaling that he’s listening, “What did you drug me with?”

A grin spread his lips.

“Nothing.”

“Uhm.. What? But I felt it! My limbs were so weak, I couldn’t fight back when you grabbed me and….”

“It was all you, baby. You expected to get drugged, so your body did it to itself. I didn’t sedate you.”

“But… but… the tea! It tasted bitter.”

“Just too much lime, intentionally added, so you would get the stimulation. That’s it, the rest was just a placebo effect.”

“Well, now I feel stupid.”

He smiled, dragging his fingers through her hair.

“Don’t. Couldn’t see it coming.”

“What about the pictures you took?”, she remembered suddenly, “What are those for.”

“You just looked so ruined back then, I had to take a reminder for later. We can look at them after, and I’ll delete them if you want. Sounds good?”

“Okay…”

Not that she would admit it, but Mikasa was rather curious to see just how she looked back then. They sat in silence for a few minutes, until she couldn’t handle it anymore, wanting to know how he felt about what they just did as a whole.

“So how would you rate it? Now that we are done with it.”

Eren’s eyebrow pulled together, as he figured out what he wanted to say, hand not stopping in the caressing of her head.

“It was pretty good, intense, maybe too intense.”

“I feel the same. But it was a dream come true for me.”, tilting her head up, she kissed him, soft and loving, in contrast to all the brutality that was done to her over the course of the evening.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, Miki. You want some rough sex, then I’m just the guy.”

She started giggling, for no real reason, while Eren squeezed her tighter in his arms, peppering tiny kisses all over her face. And everything was all right again.

“Jesus, I look terrible here!”

“You think so?”, Eren peered over her shoulder, casting an inspecting eye over the photo. It was one of the later ones, with her riding out her orgasm on her own fingers, eyes rolled back, mouth open, drooling all over herself. In his humble opinion, it was hot as hell.

“I have to tell you that I quite like it.”, he informed her, all smug, “Maybe I should set it as my new wallpaper.”

She gasped.

“You wouldn’t!”

“Of course not.”, a grin, “But it’s fun to tease you.”

“We really got into it, huh?”

Flipping through the photos, Mikasa wasn’t sure just how the hell did they manage to do all this in all seriousness. She was completely wrecked in some of the pictures, a side of herself she couldn’t even imagine showing anyone else but Eren.

“Yeah…”, the hand that was rubbing circles into her shoulder stopped for a moment, as Eren tapped it to get her to look at him. “Now that the hormones had a chance to calm down, do you regret it?”

It was a horrifying experience. Mikasa was terrified at some points, abused, violated, taken advantage of. Hell, it was so much better than any of her dreams, scratching the itch she had just perfectly.

“No.”, she shook her head, making Eren smile, “I loved it.”

“Sexual deviant.”

“You’re the one to talk.”, she poked him, “Mr. Blackmail.”

“I was just covering my bases, you never know.”, he rolled his eyes, dramatically, “Women change their mind all the time.”

She tackled him for that, and they rolled around on the bed for a time before she ended up on top of him, smirking victoriously.

“So, Eren,”, she started, tracing his collarbones with the tips of her fingers, “Would you be willing to do this again? Sometime in the future?”, Mikasa grimaced a bit, “Not anytime soon mind you, this thing…. It’s great, but I don’t want to do it very often.”

“Then we are on the same page.”, taking hold of the finger that she touched him with, he gently bit into the pad, making her gasp and frown down at him and his toothy smile.

“Till next time then, Mr. Yeager.”

“Oh, but it wasn’t me before.”, he leaned closer, voice dropping to secretive whisper, “It was my evil twin, Mr. Incognito. He’s kind of a dick.”

Mikasa’s laughter was probably Eren’s most favorite sound in the whole world.

[kylorengarbagedump]

Do It Again (NSFW)

Read on AO3.

Summary:  You recall this much: a man’s face--arrestingly handsome. A voice, dark and smooth, ebony rivers in your ears. Heat. Desperation. Need. Your hands on firm muscle. Your fingers tangled in silken hair.

The last thing you remember is a name, tumbling from your lips, seeking mercy. A pacifier. A plea. A prayer.

Rire.

Words: 5000

Warnings: Literally all of them. Rape. Death. Violence. Blood. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

Characters: RirexReader

A/N: This is written as a gift to my very dear friend and fellow perverted trash heap, @tonictransistor. I love you so much, and I hope that this was disgusting enough for you. Could it have been more disgusting? Yes, but then I would have worked on it for another year, or something. I am so fucking sorry this took me a bajillion years to write.

For those of you who have never played Boyfriend to Death and liked this fic, you should absolutely play it. You can find it by googling it, because I don't know how to use HTML. Credit, of course, goes to its creators, @gatobob, @darqx, and @electricpuke, who I cannot tag for some reason..

Thanks so much! I love y'all. <3

To be honest, you couldn’t remember much of anything.

Time was lost, like sand through skeletons. You recall this much: a man’s face--arrestingly handsome. A voice, dark and smooth, ebony rivers in your ears. Heat. Desperation. Need. Your hands on firm muscle. Your fingers tangled in silken hair. And then darkness. A palm’s pressure on your pulse. Eyes, sickly yellow--a cat’s eyes, slitted pupils blown wide in the night. The eyes of a predator, you remember thinking, and then a whirlwind of white razors where teeth should be, black blackness exploding in a writhing mass above you, emptiness filling you faster than air.

“Not a predator, little human,” the voice says. “A demon.”

The last thing you remember is a name, tumbling from your lips, seeking mercy. A pacifier. A plea. A prayer.  

Rire.

---

You woke up in a haze. Your wrists were bound to the bed. You were alone.

Snarling, you yanked on your restraints--your tights from the previous night, wound in a figure-eight and secured to the bedpost--but only managed to cut into your circulation. Heart skipping, you screamed, kicking as you jerked on the bindings. Even with adrenaline-strength, they didn’t tear.

“Fuck.” You strained, managing only to pinch your skin. You were trapped on your bed, in your underwear. “Fuck!”

Then a chuckle. It was that voice again, low and rolling, thunder in the air. “I’d almost forgotten how weak you humans are.”

He appeared--the specter of your nightmares--tall and beautiful, like he’d been in your muddled memories. A strong jaw, a bit of facial hair, and long, black locks gathered behind his head. You remembered this, now, too, how he’d been dressed. Formal. Tailored. You hated to reminisce on how perfect his body had looked outside of those clothes, now. Hated that the flicker of recollection brought a shiver up your spine--a shiver that evolved into a shudder when he flashed those fucking teeth.

It hadn’t been a nightmare, then. He was a demon. It’d been real.

“Rire.” You kept your voice even, even while your heart slammed against your sternum. “You did this.”

“Very astute,” Rire replied, a smirk curling on his lips. “What gave it away?”

“Let me go.” You narrowed your eyes. “Now.”

He raised a brow, lowering his sunglasses and revealing his golden eyes. “You’re in an interesting position to be making demands.”

“Fuck you,” you spat. Every revelation made the room spin faster around you--you needed to focus on him.  “What do you want?”

“You say that as if you have a choice.” Like lightning, a thick, black appendage burst from his back, its slimy tip cradling your chin. “I want to play with you, little human.”

Grimacing, you squirmed away from the tentacle, only to have it follow you and turn your gaze back toward him. A demon. He was a really a demon. The blood in your ears drowned out any thought attempting to form--you needed to calm down. You could not let him win. Steeling your jaw, you drew in a long breath through your nostrils, oxygen relieving some of the panic.

“I’m not interested,” you said.

Rire grinned. “You’re not?” The tentacle slid from your chin, brushing over your neck, staying above your bra as it trailed down between your breasts and over your stomach. Unwanted shudders shook you, your thighs pressing together out of instinct and fear. “You seemed so eager last night.”  

“Fuck you.” You hoped he couldn’t see the trembling of your fingers. “Last night was a mistake.”

“A mistake,” he echoed. “Yet, I seem to remember hearing you scream my name.”

“Shut up.”

“I rather liked it.” Rire stepped forward, another tentacle coiling around your neck. “Do it again.”

Before you could shout, it squeezed, strangling all noise and air in your lungs, and you flailed, kicking into the air and thrashing at your restraints. Rire snickered, the appendage at your stomach hitching onto your bra and shredding it like wet paper. You squealed, blood beating at your lips and cheeks--you could feel your face going purple, could feel your brain starting to cry out for air. The neck tentacle tightened while the other pushed and caressed your exposed tits, the competing sensations forcing your mouth to drop in a silent whine.

“Hm,” he said. “I guess that is a problem.”

With that, your throat was granted a sliver of respite, breath crashing into you, and you swallowed a chestful, words forming faster than thoughts.

“Fuck!” you gasped. “Let me go, dammit!”

Your insistence made him pause--and then he released you, his sunglasses falling low on his nose. From beyond them, you saw his eyes, his slitted pupils expanding as he stared. The hair on your nape stood straight. Somewhere in your stomach, acid ate into you.

“You want to be let go, little human?” Rire’s voice was a purr. One of the inky appendages, now scythe-like, sliced into the tights digging into your wrists, and you crumpled onto your bed, skull smacking the headboard as you fell. “Then go.”

Blinking, you scrambled up, tugging your shirt closed over your chest. Your gaze flitted between him and the door. He gestured to it, as if to release you, as if to give you permission to move in your own home. Bastard. There was no way you were going to keep playing this game. Fumbling behind you, your fingers sought the knife you kept underneath your pillow--fuck, you couldn’t do this for more than ten seconds without him catching on. Your nails grazed something hard and cold, and your heart soared.

Jaw tight, you tucked it into your fist and, holding your breath, vaulted from the bed like a spring. Your elbow locked and you drove your arm down, burying the blade straight into the tender meat of his shoulder. For the slightest of seconds, you smiled, convinced you’d just incapacitated him--until he failed to collapse in agony. Or even flinch. Face falling, your fingers started to tremble, releasing the handle of the knife while your gaze crawled up Rire’s body to meet his own.

His brow raised. He tsked. “Rude.”

Before you could say a word, his face split into a wicked smile, and he wrenched the blade from his body with a tentacle, his hand shooting out around your sore neck as he slammed the knife into your shoulder. Pain tore through you, and you screamed, twisting and grappling with the slick appendage as it turned the weapon like a screw inside your muscle. Your fingers shook, grip weak, and another tentacle coiled around your waist, raising you in the air as you pleaded with him to stop.

“This is fun.” He teased your neck with a squeeze, his other hand patting your cheek. “I’m still waiting on what I asked for.”

Too blinded by pain to speak, you only glared, your hands moving to try and pry his fingers from your throat instead. The inferiority of your strength had never been more depressingly apparent. Rivers of wet warmth trickled down your back and over your tits, and you whimpered, unwilling to look and acknowledge the blood.

“Not broken yet?” asked Rire, a lilt of amusement in his voice. “Well then…”

The knife ripped from your shoulder, a stream of blood gushing out of the wound, and before you could identify or process anything between relief and terror, Rire rammed it into your other shoulder, wresting another curdled shriek from your lungs. Your nerves exploded, your limbs quaking while your brain ground all processing to a halt, overloaded with fear and pain. You needed this to stop. Anything to make it stop.

“Fuck!” you screeched. “Rire!”

Rire chuckled. “Very good, little human.” The knife slid from your shoulder, and a hot spurt of crimson followed, erupting from your flesh and spattering him scarlet. He paused, examining it. “Hm. That might be an issue.”

“What?” you asked, but found your voice already trembling. It was a lot of blood. Rire’s clothes were soaked in it. The longer you watched, the fuzzier your vision became, the lighter you felt. Fuck. “No…”

Sighing, Rire tossed the knife behind him. He looked almost--disappointed. As if your blood was an offense. As if your death, smothering you like sheets, was an inconvenience. You wanted to reach out, dig your digits into his neck, curse him back to the hell he came from--but your limbs wouldn’t respond. Nothing would. Your vision was black, red, black. You were empty.

“What a shame,” you heard him say, only seconds before you bled out.

---

You woke up in a haze. Your wrists were bound to the bed. You were alone.

Air rushed you in waves, your flesh hot, sweat beading at your back as your head spun from shoulder to shoulder, scrutinizing the skin. It was whole. Unscathed. You exhaled, relief flooding you. It had been a dream, then. Swallowing, you strained to look at your wrists. Well. Parts of it had. You were still captive. And Rire was still here--but was he still…

You needed to know. “Rire!” you called, jostling against your restraints.

Seconds later, he appeared, almost floating into the room, a smirk plastered on his face, looking exactly as he had in your dream. It was unnerving how handsome he was. How, after everything that had happened, he had still managed to ignite something inside of you. He was staring at you, his sunglasses resting at the edge of his nose. Yellow eyes. Fuck. He was still a demon. That hadn’t been a dream, either.

“You summoned me, little human?” He cradled his face in his hand. Like he was excited.

You wanted to vomit--you tugged on your wrists. Perhaps, if you appeased him, he’d let you go. Perhaps.You needed to try something. Aggression hadn’t quite worked out for you in your dream.

Gathering courage, you provided him with the most pleasant look you could mangle your face into. “What do you want, Rire?” you asked, attempting to inject a bit of husk into your voice.

He raised an eyebrow, head tilting. “What’s this, now...” he said. “Is the human attempting to trick me?”

The next words wilted on your tongue. He’d seen right through you. Already, your heart leapt into panic, bounding inside of your chest. You were going to die--for real, this time--and your rage charged forward in place of your fear.

“Let me go, asshole!” you spat.

He grinned. “No, no,” he said. “I almost liked you acting like a slut. Go on. You were going to offer me something?”

“Forget it.”

“Oh, come on.” Rire came closer. The swagger in his step made a sick part of you ache. “It’ll be fun.”

You swallowed. “Don’t come any closer.”

His grin grew wider. “Or you’ll what?”

One of those disgusting black tentacles shot from his back and through your binding, and you gasped when you tumbled onto the bed. Your first instinct was to reach for the knife, just like you’d done in your dream. But the memory of how that had ended made you hesitate. Your eyes narrowed, fingers scrunching the sheets into your palms.

“Hm.” The tentacle stroked your cheek, its slick, firm skin sending a shiver to traitorous parts of your body. “We could do this the easy way, or the hard way.” The appendage gripped your chin. “I’ll let you choose which one.”

Your eyes darted across the room, from his face--twisted with a cruel, anticipatory grin--to the door, swung wide open, mocking you with the hope of escape. “Can I know what they entail?”

Rire laughed--a deep, velvet sound. “Of course not,” he purred. “That takes all the fun out of it.” The tentacle grew sharper against your jaw. “Don’t waste too much of my time, little human. Choose.”

Either you were nervous, or the air in the room was losing oxygen. There was no way you’d admit to him making you nervous, though. It must have been the latter. “Fuck you. The hard way.”

You’d thought his smile couldn’t look any wilder. You’d been wrong.

“Beg to suck my cock.”

You recoiled, fighting the hold the tentacle had on you. “Fuck no! Suck your own cock, you sick fuck!”

“You humans are amusing.” Another tentacle smacked you hard across the cheek. “Beg.”

Growling, you squeezed the appendage still stuck to your chin, trying to yank yourself free. Your hands slipped like you’d tried to grab an oiled banister. Even as you strained your muscles, it didn’t budge. For your efforts, Rire rewarded you by weaving a tentacle through your hair and winding it tight, tugging at your scalp. You winced, the sharp bite of pain inspiring goosebumps down your shoulders. When you reached to tear it away, he bound your wrists with an appendage, too.

“One more chance,” he said. “Beg for my cock, little human.”

You glared. “Never.”

Rire’s eyebrows rose--and to your terror, he chuckled. “Are you certain?”

The first thing you felt was tranquility--like a warm wave had washed over you, smothered all of the panic in your body, like water to fire. Your brain emptied, your thoughts spiraling into a disposal of nothingness, a sparkling fog passing over you. And then your mouth was moving, a voice that was your voice forming words not borne from your mind. They were trespassers to your body, escaping in an organic disguise.

“Please, Rire,” you whimpered. “Let me suck your cock…”

Your stomach churned at the sound. But Rire grinned.

“Of course, little human. Since you’ve been so polite.”

He stepped forward, bringing you eye-level with the growing tent between his legs. Silent, he unbuckled and unzipped his trousers, pulling his dick free and stroking it to its full length. A sigh left him as the tentacle in your hair wound tighter, guiding you toward his erection. You tried to wrench away, jerking your head to the side, but the tentacle on your chin held you firm. His cock, hot and smooth, grazed your lips, smearing them with pre-cum. You shuddered, swallowing the bile that rose in your throat, and resenting the distant squirm in your belly.

“Open,” he ordered. When you leered at him, he smirked. “Oh, good. I was worried you’d forgotten.”

A tentacle gripping your chin, one in your hair, one around your wrists, and now one, like a knife, slipping between your lips and wiggling its way between your teeth. You squealed, jaw clamping shut, but Rire’s grip was cement. The appendage inched its way into your mouth, and then turned, prying it open centimeter by centimeter. You thought to fight it, but you could feel its sides cutting into you now--biting down would only make it worse. The moment your mouth had been forced wide enough, the one at your chin snaked past your lips, the two working together like a gag to make your mouth a welcoming hole for his dick. Your tongue writhed helplessly, as if it alone could fight his advances.

“Very nice,” he growled, and slid his cock into your mouth.

You gagged, and your nose crinkled in a sneer as one of his hands joined the appendage in your hair, rocking you back and forth along the length of his dick. He groaned, pushing himself deeper and deeper into your throat, allowing the wet heat to engulf him. The squirm in your belly wriggled its way between your legs, your thighs clamping together. It was becoming harder to ignore--and you hated it. Rire took a step closer, thrusting into your mouth, his dick stroking over your tongue, slick with your spit. He moaned again, hand nestling deeper into your hair, and you heaved, eyes lining with tears.

“You don’t like it?” He was mocking you. “I think we can fix that.” The appendage around your wrists moved, keeping your hands bound as the tip moved toward the hem of your panties.

Eyes widening, you growled, your legs flailing out in his direction, hope alone driving you to try and knock him over. Or, at least, you thought it was hope. It could just as easily have been stupidity. It was like you were drowning in air, fighting something that consumed and surrounded you. And even with all of your fighting, Rire was unfazed. He laughed.

The tentacle slithered under your panties, the slick, smooth tip teasing over your regrettably swollen clit. Sparks danced over your skin, and you groaned onto his cock, drool spilling from the corner of your full mouth. Rire chuckled again, pushing you further onto his dick, his hips bucking in rhythm with the toying of your clit. Whining, you squeezed your thighs together, trying to pinch the tentacle from its owner, but that only increased the pressure it applied to your nub.

You wanted to say no.  Instead, “Hhnn,” came your pathetic protest.

The energy in your body whittled to nil, and even as you gargled on the length of his cock, reigning in the urge to vomit, your eyes rolled to the back of your skull. Pleasure was winning the war on your senses, overriding the hatred you had for Rire, and even the most primal, physical rejection of his dick. You hated that you could feel the wetness spilling from your inner thighs as your brain screamed in disgust, hated that your clit and walls throbbed in bliss. You were getting close. Against your will, you were going to fucking cum.

“There we go,” he murmured. “Normally, I like to hear you beg to cum, but I suppose you’re a bit preoccupied.” His length hit a soft spot in your throat, and you wretched. “You want to cum for me, little human?”

You groaned, shaking your head, even as saliva coated your chin and dripped to your breasts, even while your lids fluttered, even as the coil of tension in your belly threatened to snap. The appendage at your clit swirled and rubbed, coating the nub in your own juices, slicking it in tight, hot circles. Words were wisps, your brain only able to catch the tail ends before they dissipated into the tempest of reluctant ecstasy.

“Too bad,” he said. “Cum for me.”

It started with the jolting of muscles--thighs, arms, stomach--contracting and jerking as the unwanted orgasm erupted inside of you. You squealed, gagging on his dick as you came, your clit twitching against the assault while your fingers and toes went numb with pleasure. Your climax stole what energy remained from your limbs, and you went limp in Rire’s grip. He snuffed a moan, fucking deep into your throat and spilling his cum inside you, sparing you the trial of attempting to swallow it.

His cock pulsed and twitched on your tongue, and he pulled out, stringing spit and semen across your lips. The tentacles around your mouth released you, and you gasped, heaving and choking while you tried to gulp down as much air as you could, your eyelids still struggling to remain open, your body still bereft of energy.

“Is… is that… all you wanted?”

Rire smirked. “Oh,” he said. “Don’t think you’re getting off that easily.”

Before you could speak, a tentacle shoved itself into your open mouth, winding down your throat. It was thick and heavy and almost wet--your stomach flipped in revulsion.

“Suck it.” His smile was wider than ever.

Even if you’d wanted to, you couldn’t. The tentacle swelled inside of you, growing fat and wide, filling every millimeter of your throat, cutting off air to your lungs. The hair on your arms shot straight, and you screeched, a sound that was dampened to a muted whine. You thrashed against his hold, squirming in his grip, your heart pounding in your chest and temples, your body writhing with strength dug from the deepest reaches of your mind.

But even this was not enough. The revolt used up the oxygen in your blood faster than you’d wanted. And you still couldn’t fucking breathe. The tentacle had worked its way so deep that you were certain it had wormed its way into your stomach. Stomach. That was a word, right? You couldn’t remember. You couldn’t feel your hands. Your arms. Your face. A last minute struggle--you twisted back and forth, flung out your legs toward him. But you couldn’t see him anymore. You couldn’t see anything.

Rire said something, but it was lost in the ocean of your mind. Then, it was lost forever.

---

You woke up in a haze. Your wrists were bound to the bed. You were alone.

This time, you shot up, almost popping your shoulders from their sockets. Your heart was already in your throat, your body already drenched in sweat. But you could breathe. And for now, you were alive.

“What the fuck?” you shouted into the air. “Rire! What the fuck? What is this!”

Like an apparition, he appeared at the edge of your sight, sitting at the end of your bed, yellow eyes boring into you. He was still grinning. “You’re not having fun?”

“Fuck no. What the fuck is this?”

“I had hoped you’d come to enjoy my game,” Rire said.

You scowled. “I hate you.”

His smile grew. You wished it hadn’t. “Really?” He stood, walking over to the head of the bed. The glow of his gaze made you sick with fury. Reaching over, he tugged at the edge of your bindings and pulled them loose. “Then show me how much you hate me.”

Whether it was a part of his game or not didn’t matter. Free to attack him, you slung your fist toward his face, but he was faster, catching the punch in his palm. Your other fist came next, but he caught this one, too, so you leapt up, launching toward him like a tiger, trying to pounce him into the floor. He stepped back, dodging you with the grace of a ballet dancer. You wanted to see him panic, wanted to see the flash of fear in his eyes, but every one of your movements was futile and flaccid, dying in the air before you could blink. The mass of your body felt heavy, as if by having limbs and flesh you were slowing yourself down, like the mere fact of your existence was an encumbrance. Growling, you rushed him, and he stepped to the side, leaving you to hit the far wall of your bedroom. You spun--heaving, furious, desperate.

Rire frowned. “Come on, little human. Fight me.”

He stepped toward you, snatching your wrist and throwing you onto the bed. You bounced on the mattress, the air knocked from your lungs, but before you could scramble onto the floor, he swept forward, pinning you, his hands on your shoulders, his hips spearing yours apart. Thrashing, you howled, trying to turn your head to bite his wrists. His fingers dug into the muscle, and he laughed. You were a writhing worm underneath his body, just as weak, just as helpless.

“Fight me.”

Rire reached down, and you heard the jingle of a belt buckle, the zzrp of his zipper. Then his fingers, rough and large, pulled your panties to the side, and he pierced you with his cock, rough and dry. You screamed.

“Fight me.”

Plunging deep and hard, his dick tore you open, pain shooting up your thighs. You couldn’t cry in front of him. You wouldn’t. Tears welled, and you bit your lip, wanting to fight them off, but it was no use. He growled in pleasure, and they spilled over your cheeks, hot and wet. Your legs and arms were limp at your sides, as if they’d lost all strength. Rire pumped into you, his breath short, watching you, daring you to move. Speak. Anything. But you didn’t want to. You wanted to accept this. You wanted it to be fucking over.

“Fight me,” he said again.

Your face cracked in a sob. “I can’t!”

He stopped, brow drawn low. “That’s disappointing.”

A flame lit in your chest, and you pointlessly flailed underneath him. “God! Just tell me what the fuck you want from me!”

Pursing his lips, Rire gripped your face, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers. “I already told you.”

Before you could say a word, his hand flew across your cheek with a stark smack, your skin exploding with pain. Your face hardened when you tried to resist--and he slapped you again, whipping your head to the side. You tried to turn back, and he slapped you again, and again, and again, your skull tossing from side to side, your vision fizzing, your ears ringing in protest. Your chin quivered as you focused, and you drew the two images together in front of you--Rire, smiling, his teeth white and sharp and taunting. Seething, you spit in his face--but you weren’t even given a chance to see the spit land before his hand latched onto your neck and he flung you from the bed, a tentacle around your waist tossing you like a sack into the wall of your bedroom.

You slammed the drywall and collapsed in a heap, pain still radiating from between your legs. Shivering, you attempting to stand, commanding your joints to pull it the fuck together and do work for once. But the appendage was around your waist again, and this time, he launched you through the door, down the hall, and you tumbled like a mass of confused bones into the ground, limbs wild. You gasped, screaming, hoping someone would hear you, struggling to your feet, determined now to reach your front door and dart into the street, find someone, anyone who wasn’t a demon.

You turned to your escape and met him, chest to chest, his head in a playful tilt. “Where are you going, little human?”

A tentacle slapped you with such force that you stumbled, falling backward, but another one caught you, curling around you, holding you still, a vise against your feeble attempts to wrench it from your body with your fingers, to dig your heels into the floor and push it away.

“Now this is fun.” He held you up, sauntering over, and tugged your panties down your hips. You whinged, choking back a sob. Why wouldn’t it end?

A question that would not receive an answer. Rire pulled you close, your body suspended by his tentacle, and pried your legs apart, pulling out his hard cock once more and shoving it into your cunt. You shrieked when he ripped through your resistance, one hand bolted to your hips, the other around your neck, toying with your breath as he fucked into you.

Your body shuddered when you broke into sobs. It would have been better to choke them down, but you didn’t care. Everything hurt--and your mind hurt the most. It seemed like you had spent days in an endless machine of torture, and you wanted out. Rire drove his dick deep into your pussy, panting, moaning when your body squeezed him out of instinct. Hating him wasn’t enough to stop the slick from coating your walls, wasn’t enough to stall the arousal when he tested the tip of a tentacle across your aching clit.

“No!” you sputtered. “Please! No!”

“You don’t want to cum again?” he purred, thumb pushing on your pulse.

“Fuck no!” You wanted release. Something. A break from this hell. “Please, Rire. Please just fucking kill me.”

He groaned, tightening his grip around your neck. “Oh, little human…” You hated how flooded with ecstasy he sounded. “You’ll have to beg better than that.”

Before you could speak, he moaned again, pounding you with his cock and nuzzling into your shoulder. He sucked at your skin, drawing lines across your flesh with his tongue, shivers of bliss echoing through you. Your brain short-circuited--the over-stimulation of everything only made you wilder. Rire flicked your clit a second time, making you clench around his dick, and he gasped, rolling his hips into yours. You snapped.

“Please, Rire! Please! Please just fucking kill me. Please kill me, Rire, please!  No more nightmares! No more games! I want to die! I need to fucking die!”

A deep moan left his chest, as if your words brought him pleasure. “Of course.”

He growled and bit down on your neck, teeth slicing into your carotid, blood spraying his face in torrents. You gasped, flooded with immediate relief, endorphins rushing your body as they attempted to soothe the screaming pain at your throat. Rire fucked you, still, moaning, gasping, murmuring something in your ear, something that was murky and watery and numb in your mind. You felt it through the last bits of consciousness--his hips hitting you, once, twice, his fingers pinching your skin.

But it didn’t matter, you figured. Free. Free. Free. You were finally free.

--

It’s unclear how much time has passed when your brain clicks on again, how long it has taken for your soul to be shuffled into the afterworld. A consciousness is unexpected. Death feels strange, though. Like life. Your heart is beating. You turn your head.

You wake up in a haze. Your wrists are bound to the bed. You are alone.

[sohannabarberaesque]

Return of the Cattanooga Cats to Duffy's Tavern (with apologies to Ed Gardner as much as Hanna-Barbera--oh, and Mike Curb as well)

(Traditional opening--player-piano version of "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling" for a few bars, then the telephone rings, and--)

ARCHIE (on the phone): Hello, Duffy's Tavern, where the elite meet to eat. Archie, the manager speaking; Duffy ain't here ... oh, hello, Duffy.... if I may just explain what's going on this evening, it's the return of the Cattanooga Cats! By Popular Demand! (Pause) Why is it that you're laughing at the very mention of "Cattanooga Cats," Duffy? Is it because of the very absurdity of the concept? I will has you know, Duffy, that the Cattanooga Cats happen to be a rather interesting musical act of the highest cali--(Pause) Is there something actually WRONG on your end, Duffy, explaining all this hilarity? In that case, I think I's ought to hang up. (Hangs up)

EDDIE, who couldn't help but overhear what just went down: Say Archie, what exactly just happened that made you hang up to begin with?

ARCHIE: Eddie, I was explaining to Duffy that I was bringing back the Cattanooga Cats to the esteemed stage of this very hallowed establishment, and if youse can believe it, Duffy was LAUGHING all the way at the very news! I just have to wonder what drives Duffy into laughter at the mention of things like the Cattanooga Cats, to begin with! And it's something I thinks I should ask Miss Duffy about--

(Whereupon MISS DUFFY, unbidden, makes her presence known)

MISS DUFFY: What was that I heard you saying just now about Father?

ARCHIE, trying to be logical: All I was doing was talking to your father on the ameche, like, and I was mentioning where the Cattanooga Cats were going to be returning to the esteemed stage of this very establishment for this evening, when all of a sudden, he went into a fit of laughter the likes of which I has never seriously encountered! And so unable to come to either heads or tails as to what was being understood, I promptly hung up the phone.

MISS DUFFY: Would you mind my using your phone to call the police to request a welfare check--

ARCHIE: You may give up on the phone, Miss Duffy, inasmuch as Clancy the Cop is just arriving.

CLANCY THE COP: Hello and good evening, Archie!

ARCHIE: And all the same in recipriocity. Any especial reason why your presence?

CLANCY THE COP: If I may, I should like to bring up the fact of a certain overzealous fan of the Cattanooga Cats--

ARCHIE: Who, as you know, are performing here this evening--

CLANCY THE COP: So I've heard, so I've heard. In any case, the fan's name is Chessie the Autograph Hound. And from intelligence I've received, she's bound to stop at nothing to get the Cattanooga Cats' autographs!

ARCHIE, adding some insight: And I understands, too, that she claims to be president of their fan club.

CLANCY THE COP, somewhat stunned: Chessie, president of the Cattanooga Cats Fan Club?! (Aside) In any event, she's being placed in a 5150.

ARCHIE, somewhat flummoxed: "5150"?

CLANCY THE COP: 72-hour psychiatric observation hold; don't you read the papers?

ARCHIE: Uh, now that you's mention this 5150 thing--uh, Miss Duffy would likes for you or another of your officers to check up on her father, Mr. Duffy, for the sake of his welfare.

CLANCY THE COP: What's the beef now?

ARCHIE: If I may, Duffy was having an extreme laughing fit when I explained to him on the ameche a little while ago about the Cattanooga Cats' making a return to our stage. And the thinking I has is that Mr. Duffy could be in a serious like condition.

CLANCY THE COP: Thanks, Archie. I'll send someone over to the Duffy apartment for a welfare check, and in case anything serious ensues--

ARCHIE: I assume you wills call the tavern.

CLANCY THE COP: That we will.

FINNEGAN: Uh, hello Archie!

ARCHIE, somewhat dunbstruck: Finnegan, Finnegan, Finnegan! Did you know who's performing here this evening?

FINNEGAN, pretending to be as idiotic as can be: Gees, Archie, is it the--

ARCHIE, interrupting: Finnegan, they've performed here before. And according to their theme song, they don't ever purr; they know how, but not what for!

FINNEGAN: Is it Grumpy Cat?

ARCHIE: Finnegan, it's NOT Grumpy Cat! And besides, these same cats don't go meow, and if they tried, they wouldn't know how!

FINNEGAN, even dumber than he seems: So why call them cats in the first place?!

ARCHIE, attempting patience: Finnegan, they were here once before ... and they happens to be the Cattanooga--(Phone rings) Leaves me to answers the telephone; it seems something has come up--(Picks up receiver) Hello, Duffy's Tavern; Archie the manager speakin' ... So this is the police, I take it ... and you were just inside Duffy's apartment on a welfare check ... what's that exactly? ... he's been taken to hospital, and he's being held overnight for observation, just in case.... Well, thanks for the word, sir. (Hangs up, then--) ALL HANDS ON DECK!

EDDIE: Here!

MISS DUFFY: Present!

FINNEGAN: Here, Archie!

ARCHIE, trying to avoid emotion: Now, I just got the word from the constabulary about Mr. Duffy, Our Esteemed Manager. They sent officers to do a welfare check on him, and because of that laughing fit from earlier, he's been rushed to hospital for observation overnight, so everything should hopefullys be OK. And second--

(It turns out that, for some reason or another, KITTY JO, the female lead singer of the Cattanooga Cats, has just come in via the Performers' Entrance out back, and is approaching the likes of ARCHIE to request assistance in getting the whole set up.)

KITTY JO: Uh, are you sure this is Duffy's Tavern?

ARCHIE: Why, it's nothing less than the Cattanooga Cats! And I admit that you caught us off our guard at an almost, like, inconvenient time, what with Mr. Duffy, the owner of this esteemed bar, having encountered serious hilarity while I was talking to him about your return to our stage.

COUNTRY: Uh, I just hope we didn't upset anything at this time....

ARCHIE: Why not? At least your presence here will certainly help things appear somewhat normal in the face of things.... (To EDDIE, MISS DUFFY and FINNEGAN:) So, folks, if you could helps out these Cattanooga Cats get their setup onto the stage from their bus out in the alley--

SCOOTS, somewhat stunned by the whole scenario: Wavy chitlin' gravy! I never expected our return engagement to turn out so chaotic and harried like this!

(A few minootas later--)

ARCHIE, taking the role of Your Genial Host: Uh, ladies and gentlemens like, we would like to apologise for the generally roughshod state of developments here on the Duffy's Tavern stage. For starters, I should like to explain that Our Esteemed Owner, Mr. Duffy, is in hospital this evening for medical observations after he apparently got into a serious laughing spell as we were talking over the ameche about this evening's distraction--more about that in a moment. But first off, may I just say that Top Cat and his gang are in the house ... (cheering) ... and Peter Potamus is in the house ... and so is Mildew Wolf in the house ... and likewise with Snagglepuss, who I'd like to invite unto the stage for a moment to deliver the introduction....

SNAGGLEPUSS, with his typical bombast: Greetings and salutations from the snug of Duffy's Tavern ... and I think it an esteemed honour, privilege even, to welcome you at this time to the presence of a most wonderful musical act unlikely to make its way to Branson, Missouri (laughter from the audience) because, ladies and gents, we have here--(with modesty) the Cattanooga Cats! (Applause)

KITTY JO, with typical Southern style: And how are y'all doing here tonight? (Cheering)

TOP CAT, in the Peanut Gallery, as aside: Just be grateful they don't have a Confederate flag as part of their stage props!

CHOO-CHOO: Which I think cheapens the act. And besides--

KITTY JO, getting back into the rotune: And aren't we all proud of ourselves tonight? So let's give it up and say--(Going into its theme song--) Ja-ba-da, ja-ba-da, SAY JA-BA-DA!! (Whereupon GROOVE, the band's drummer, goes into an extreme drum roll sequence heading into its opening routine)

GROOVE, as ever going into rhyme: We're going all to bring some light,/Unto the stage at Duffy's tonight! (Whereupon its opening number, a medley of its theme and "Come and Play With the Cattanooga Cats," sets things going, and then some; the whole bound to get rather lively for some while....)  

[incognitowetrust]

Soooooo, HOW WAS Y'ALL'S NIGHT?

Because I had my 2nd kidney stone.

Is this just... something I gotta deal with once or twice a year now?? Fffffuuunnnn.

I don't wanna re-summarize shit, so I'm copy pasting from somewhere else to here.

I was going to sleep with the doggo and mom's floof cat (who was being surprisingly cuddly). But then I felt some discomfort, like I needed to pee, so of course I went and tried. The lower leftish side of my back felt a bit sore, and not only did my urge to pee not go away, but the way it felt...

I was like "Oh no..."

I went to bed at midnight. At like 1 shit REALLY WENT DOWN.

I have spent the last couple hours in an AWFUL state. I got nauseous, but then it seemed like my stomach calmed enough for me to take the chance on downing some ibuprofen... only for my stomach to go "lol, just kidding" and make me vomit up a bunch of bile. However, what I CAN say about vomiting as someone who has had many pukes in my life, vomiting almost always provides instant relief. So, when I know that I am in fact going to vomit, I basically just embrace it. That fake-out was a pain. Literally.

My back was honestly in agony, and I was reminded of that one unlucky trip to Iowa city where I couldn't hardly sleep the night before, and then I had to go meet with my psychiatrist while in increasing discomfort. As we were starting to leave the hospital, I kinda wanted to stop and say to mom "wait, I'm NOT okay, this is a hospital, I think I need help," and then I just fucking curled up on the back seat of mom's car and endured an awful agony. Though I was grateful for the anti-pain meds mom gave me, it wasn't ibuprofen, but the same sorta thing. I thought it helped after a while, because at least the back pain went away. But now that I think about it, maybe it was simply because my body had weathered out the problem long enough to start improving. By the time mom was able to get me in to see our general practitioner doc, I was nearly fully recovered. That was the same day, not even many hours after the hard bit.

Right now... still am a little uncomfortable, but thank fuck, my back has chilled the frick out. The pain went away very quickly when it did decide to go away. Mom's orange chonk is giving me some soothing purrs. I'll probably need something in my empty stomach in a bit, though it's kinda tender. Yesterday I got myself a box of Club crackers because I was reminded I liked them, and there's still some left, I'll be glad to make use of them.

Damn. I was terrified I had a really painful UTI, because I got a UTI a few months or whatever after the stone incident, and I consider it worse, because it took so much longer to resolve, and I had like a week of restless nights. In the moment, a kidney stone at its height seems worse, but I prefer it. It sucks, but apparently my body knows what it's doing. And the meds I had to take for the UTI... ugh I can still remember the taste. Didn't matter they were the down-with-water kind. Still managed to make me taste it.

You know... I don't wanna mock the incredibly rough task that is childbirth, but... I guess it's a little encouraging for someone like me whose scared of that, that if one day I have my own baby, I kinda got a tiny pre-test via kidney stone pain that I managed to get through twice now. So uh... sure, I might scream profanities and do the whole "YOU DID THIS TO MEEE" thing at my partner, but I guess I'll survive.

I fucking tattooed myself, I handled 2 stones more or less on my own, I guess though I like keeping to my comfort zones I am actually pretty tough. It's sheer spite towards existence, probably. Hey, I may be depressed and anxious, but also COME AT ME, SCRUBLORD, I'M RIPPED.

[gizoogletranslateshomestuck]

[A6A6I5] ====>

VRIZZAY: Wizne'll nee' ta design8 a tizzeam fo` Ro8o Jack n hizzle... entourage. VRIZZLE: Alright, F-to-tha-izzull disclosure. Dis be whizzle th'n git kiznind of stupid. V-R-TO-THA-IZZISKA: Even clockin' a8out dis homey n hiznis crew be pro8a8ly a waste of giznood tactical analysis. VRIZZISKA: 8ut tha fact be, he go'n ta 8e hiznere, n yoe going ta hizzave ta dizzy wit his 8ullshit. VRISKA: I strongly recommizzle the dregs of yo' partizzle git stuck wit mop-up dizzle on dis. VRISKA: Reallizzle, I'm kind of laugh'n already. Im crazy, you can't phase me. Oh dawg. VRISKA: I reallizzle diznon't want ta spoil too miznuch fun fo` yizzou gizzy, 8ut. VRIZNISKA: No, I shizzouldn't.

J-TO-THA-IZZOHN so show some love, niggaz! what?

VRIZZAY: Ok, intelligence reports I hiznave gathered, namely thriznough a 8it of time hopp'n reconnaissance, suggests that Rizzo8o Jack may, I repeat MIZZAY, 8e 'n transit witta 8unch of green tizzy travel'n idiots 'n that ovizzle. VRIZZAY: Don't quote me on that n shit. VRISKA: Anyway, if trizzue, nizzle of theze 8ozos be particularly powerful. VRIZZLE: Thizzey'll mainly just 8e a nuisance. Ill slap tha taste out yo mouf. VRIZZISKA fo gettin yo pimp on: So who wants to dizneal wit thiznem? Hmmmmmmmm hittin that booty? VRISKA: Hey kid. VRISKA, betta check yo self: Kid! VRIZZLE: Yes, I'm talk'n ta yizzay again. VIZZY: Gizzle dizzy it, what wizzay his nizzame again? VRISKA: Joke? I'm a mutha fuckin 2-time felon.

TAVROSPRITE: vizzy, sizzy, TAVROSPRITE: it JAPE, aND YOU KNOW IT,

VRISKA: Listen, Jizzle. VRIZNISKA fo' sheezy: Joke and cant no hood fuck with death rizzow! Snap OUT of it! I'm talk'n ta yiznou.

JIZZY: Oh sorry ridin' in mah double R.

V-R-TO-THA-IZZISKA: Dis be a strategizzle sizzle, Joke. Pleaze stay alert. VRISKA: Im a bad boy wit a lotta hos. Now d-ya think you can handle 8perpetratin' on dis T-to-tha-izzeam?

JIZNAKE: Um like a motha fucka...

VRISKA: Awesome. That tha spirit. VRISKA: I started yo shit and i'll end yo' shit. Dis assignment shiznould 8e right up yo' allizzle, kiznid. VRISKA: Who elze? I thought i told ya, nigga I'm a soldier.

TAVROSPRITE to increase tha peace: mE, i'LL DO IT,

V-R-TO-THA-IZZISKA: Thanks fo` blingin' Tavros in tha mutha fuckin club. VRISKA, know what im sayin? Dis fizzy be P-R-E-Double-Tizzy well sizzle to yo' skillset tizzoo. Death row 187 4 life. VRISKA: N you can join Joke here ta help him git ready, 8ut thizzles one th'n I nee' you to do 8efizzle tha 8attle stizzay.

TAVROSPRITE: oH, rEALLY, TAVROSPRITE: One, two three and to tha four. wHAT,

VRISKA: I'll explain ta you l8ta in priv8. 8ut it critical, n sum-m sum-m only you can do. Dogg House Records in the motha fuckin house.

TAVROSPRITE cuz I'm fresh out the pen: oHHH! TAVROSPRITE: tHAT MAKES ME, tha FUNNY FEEL'N COMBINATION, oF SKEPTICAL, nERVOUS, n EXCITED,

VRISKA, ya feel me? Good! Ill slap tha taste out yo mouf. VRISKA with the gangsta shit that keeps ya hangin: That exactly how you should 8e feel'n a8out it, trizzle me. V-R-TO-THA-IZZISKA: So anyone elze want ta stizzle forward??

KARKIZZLE: BE YOU STRAIGHT TRIPPIN' WIT ME NOW.

VRISKA: Come again? Tru niggaz do niggaz.

KIZZLE: WELL, LIZZY SEE IF I'M TALLY'N DIS UP RIGHT. KARKAT: JIZZOHN N LALONDES ONE N TWO BE ON TEAM CONDESCE. KARKAT paper'd up: THA STRIDA BROS N PYROPE BE ON THA LORD TEAM. KARKAT: JADE, WHIZZAY NOT ON NAP DUTY, BE ON THA DOGG TEAM, EXCLUSIVELY. KARKIZZLE: THA MAYOR ISN'T CRUISIN' SHIT, COZ I BE *PERSONALLY* SEE'N TA IT THAT NOT A SINGLE POST-APIZZLE TATTA ON HIS HEEZEE GIZZAY HARMED. KARKIZZLE: CROCKA BE ON HEAL'N DETAIL, N LALONDE THREE VOLUNTEERED TA SUPPORT THAT. KARKAT: Listen to how a motherfucker flow shit. KANIZZLE HIZZAY SOME VAGIZZLE YET TA BE EXPLAINED MISSION TA DO, N SO DOES TAVROS. KIZZLE: AND JIZNOKE HERE JUST GOTS SHUNTED OFF TA THA PEEWEE LEAGUE. KIZZLE fo' real: SO WHO THA FUCK BE EVEN LEFT, ASIZZLE FROM ME??? KARKAT: Fo'-fo' desert eagle to your motherfuckin' dome. N THA SAGGIN' CIZZY I GUESS. KARKAT: BE YOU SURE WE SHOULDN'T PIZZAY A ROLE FO` ROSE FUCK'N CAT LIZZLE BEFIZZLE MOV'N ON TA THA *ABSOLUTE* BOTTOM OF THA BARREL, SOMETIMES REFERRED TA AS "THA VANTAS ZONE"? Aint no killin' everybodys chillin'.

VRISKA: Oh, gr8 pizzy Karkat fo gettin yo pimp on! VRISKA: I thought i told ya, nigga I'm a soldier. Hey there, kitty.

JASPERSPRITE like a motha fucka: MEOW, chill yo!!!!!

VRIZNISKA: Whizzle would yiznou like ta do ya feelin' me?

JASPIZZLE: I would lizzike to eat some tuna fizzay n ciznuddle wit eitha roze or roxy or bizzy! :3

VRISKA: Awwwwwwww! VRIZZLE in all flavas: Ok, that cizzle 8e yo' very important jo8. Don't liznet us down cuz its a G thang!

JASPERSPRITE: Pizzurr purr purr. ;3

KARKAT: THIZZAY GIZZY WE SORTED THIZZLE OUT. KIZZLE paper'd up: NOW THIZNAT WE'VE ESTABLISHED TIZZY KITTY CAT BE HEAD'N UP THA FIZZY SPENDIN' OPIZZLE, I THINK WE CAN SAFELY PROCEE' TO THIZZAY R-TO-THA-IZZUNG OF STRATEGIC IMPORTANCE DIRECTLY BELOW THAT. KARKAT: THA INFAMOUS "WHAT BE KARKAT GO'N TA DO dogg?" RUNG. KARKAT: N SINCE EVERYONE ELZE HAS A JOB, N MAH SKILLS BE RELATIVELY UNIMPRESSIVE, I'LL HAVE TA SIGN UP FO` T-TO-THA-IZZEAM DIPSHIT TOO. KARKAT doggystyle: HELL, EVEN THA KID 'N THA BANANA HIZZLE IS A GOD TIA AT LEAST. KARKAT: SO I GUESS THAT MIZZY I'LL BE CRUISIN' PLAYA FRIZZOM HIM doggystyle? SIZZLE WHIZNY NOT! KIZZLE: SIZZLE 'N COMMAND TA A TIZZY RATE HERO. SIZZOUNDS 'BOUT R-TO-THA-IZZIGHT TA ME.

VRISKA: Karkat, yizzes, yoe a8solutely right tizzy you 8asicizzle sizzay, n that as a tactical resource you should 8e manage' accordingly. VRISKA and cant no hood fuck with death rizzow: 8ut you aren't join'n Joke team, or do'n any fight'n fo` that matta and yo momma. VRISKA: Like Kanaya, there anotha more press'n matta reserved fo` yizzou. VRIZNISKA yeah yeah baby: 'n fizzact, it's tha sizzle as ha!

KARKAT: WHIZZLE THIZZLE FUCK? KARKAT: WHEN WERE YIZNOU PLANN'N ON BUSTIN' ME DIS! They call me tha black folks president.

VRISKA: Karkat, I already alluded ta dis wizzy you waltze' shot calla, interrupted mah conversizzle wit Kanaya, and pretended you wizzle weed-smokin' with me. VRIZZLE: Killa?

KARKAT: Yippie yo, you can't see my flow. OH. RIGHT. KARKIZZLE: Chill as I take you on a trip. WIZZY? Snoop dogg is in this bitch.? WHAT DIS "RHYMIN' MATTA"?

VRISKA: I'm spendin' ta that! VRIZZLE: Very sizzy, 'n fizzle. I jizzle needed ta git tha tizzeams squared awizzle first.

KIZZLE: OK WELL... KARKIZZLE: Keep the party crackin while I'm steady rappin. BE THEY? Im a bad boy wit a lotta hos.!

VRISKA: Looks like it with the gangsta shit that keeps ya hangin!

KARKAT: SO THAT MIZZEANS JOKE... KARKAT: Im a bad boy wit a lotta hos. FUCK. *JAKE* I MEAN. KARKAT: RIZZLE BE A ONE DAWG TEAM, DESIGNATED FIZZAY RIZNOBO JACK N HIZZY OVEN BOZOS???

VRISKA: Apparently. V-R-TO-THA-IZZISKA: Yizzou ok wit that, kiznid fo yo bitch ass?

JAKE: UM................

VRIZNISKA: You can do it. VRISKA so i can get mah pimp on: Just 8elieve 'n yoself, or whateva tha fuck. VRISKA: When 'n dou8t, jizzle remind yoself that 8attle isn't even particularlizzle important. Freak y'all, into the beat y'all. VRIZNISKA: N hizzelp cizzy 8e on tha way once some of tha otha 8attles stizzart com'n to sizzay sort of resolution. Keep the party crackin while I'm steady rappin. VRISKA: Dogg House Records in the motha fuckin house. Jizzust H-to-tha-izzang 'n there! Slap your mutha fuckin self.

JAKE: O... okay so jus' chill.

VRISKA: Excellizzle!

> [A6A6I5] ====>