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blarshwritezz · 3 days

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Yanderr mafia boss x male reader prisoner, You are a rival of the mafia boss and your group was defeated by his group, thus becoming his prisoner.

Little did you know, he had lust for you and he decides that you will succumb to his desires whether you want to or not.

A new mafia boss coming right up! But no more new mafia bosses after this, guys. I know they're hot, but my masterlist will suffer also, changing it to leader to avoid confusion hope that's okay

Yandere Mafia Leader x Prisoner Reader

M yan x M reader

TW - general yandere behavior, NSFW, noncon

How long has it been? For how many days have you been held captive here? You couldn't keep track. There weren't any windows or other ways to tell time in your damp cell.

You had to wonder if your comrades were doing alright. You weren't too close to most of them, but you were still worried. You hoped whatever they were going through wasn't much worse than what you were.

The leader of this mafia kept a constant watch on you. There was a single camera in your cell, which really wasn't strange, but you could often hear him right outside your door. He'd often come in and watch you "sleeping".

That was one of the more difficult things to do here; fall asleep. You really didn't struggle this much usually, but between the environment and the whole being watched thing, it wasn't easy.

You hoped you might finally get some rest tonight. Or...whatever time of day it was when you closed your eyes.

Your dreams almost came true...until they were crushed by the fact that you felt something choking you. You opened your eyes, taking only a few seconds to realize what was happening.

The leader was in here again, fucking your mouth! You tried to pull away, but he only gripped your hair and forced himself deeper down your throat.

He groaned as you gagged around his dick. It was almost enough to make him cum.

Oh who was he kidding? He didn't want to hold back. Not this time. With a few more thrusts, his seed was flowing down your throat.

He took both of your wrists in his hand as he pulled out, holding them tightly above your head. His free hand mover to roughly spread your legs apart.

"You're my new fuck toy, got that?" Without warning or preparation, he plunged into your ass with a pleasured groan. "I'll stop torturing you, long as you please me."

You didn't have a choice.

He was fucking you anyway, no care for how rough he was being. In fact, he seemed to like seeing you slightly in pain.

You couldn't get away, his grip on you was too tight. He smirked as you struggled, even though it was useless.

"Stop struggling so much or I'll just have to kill you, and fucking a corpse doesn't sound nearly as appealing."

He leaned down and started biting your neck, licking the blood clean as he did. He made sure the marks would be visible. You were his, everyone should know.

Despite knowing you shouldn't enjoy this, you couldn't stop the moans you made. You couldn't stop your cock from growing hard, twitching as it came closer to climax.

Finally, he slowed down, making you whine pathetically. "You want to cum? Think you deserve it? You just have to tell me you'll be mine. That your body belongs to me." He growled in your ear.

You couldn't! You refused, shaking your head.

"If you say so." He chuckled, pounding into you harder than before. Only to stop right as you were on the edge again.

And that became a cycle. He fucked you hard and stopped over and over until you were a whimpering mess beneath him. And of course, he couldn't be fair. While he denied you the right to cum over and over, he repeatedly filled your asshole with his seed. Over and over again until your insides were painted fully white.

All until you begged him for release. Saying anything for him to let you cum. Even that you and your body belonged to him.

"There's a good boy..." His hands released your now bruised legs and wrists, one moving to your nipple as the other made its way to your ass. In one swift motion, he pulled out and replaced his cock with his fingers. They curled in you, hitting all the right spots.

As his hands worked wonders on you, he took your cock unto his mouth and sucked you off. Pathetic as it was, it didn't take very long before you came. He moaned, the sound vibrating around your cock as he swallowed your cum.

"There we go. Not so difficult, right? And you get to cum like that whenever I want for the rest of your life~"

I think that one was pretty decent! or at least, I really hope so

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seresinhangmanjake · 3 days

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Stolen Angel - Part 5

Demon!Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: You thought you were having a one-night stand with some random, normal guy. Turns out he’s a winged, demon-like stalker who has been obsessed with you for years.

Warnings/Notes: Jake is a little dark. Kidnapping. Manipulation. Obsessive behavior. Eventual smut and happy stuff. I’m sure there are typos. This used to be a different fic for August Walker, so if you see it, it’s fine. I wrote that one too.

Words: 3550

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

JAKE POV

Jake sighs at the knock on his door and sits up in his bed. It’s too early. Last night was long, watching you struggle to not verbally defy his every attempt to help you. But your wing was inflamed, which would soon lead to your back becoming inflamed, and he knows you’re intelligent but is it so hard to understand that not taking care of the injury could mean infection? Being here does not make you immune to such ailments and yet you puffed and huffed and barely held your tongue at his cleaning the area and applying a bandage with ointment. And just when you’d had a conversation with him about you being good. Terribly disappointing. You better shape up if you intend to get what you want.

“What, Javy?” Jake calls at the second knock.

Javy enters Jake’s room and leans against the door after closing it behind him. “So? You taking her?” he asks.

“Possibly,” Jake says, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. “There are stipulations, but she’s determined. She’ll do whatever she has to to get there.”

Javy raises a brow. “Does that explain her cozying up to you yesterday?”

A slight smirk sneaks onto Jake’s face. ‘Cozying up’ is definitely one way to describe what you were doing the day before, although your actions were nowhere close to how affectionate you’re capable of being. There is plenty of passion in that body of yours that a few soft touches don’t do justice, but for now Jake will take what he can get.

“It does,” Jake confirms with a nod. “She’s my clever little angel, but manipulative attempt or not, it’s not like I’m going to push her away.”

“Oh no, of course not,” Javy snorts. “You? Do the respectful thing?” With a shake of his head, he lets out a low whistle to which Jake rolls his eyes. The sarcasm in his friend’s tone is wildly unappreciated.

“Do you honestly expect any better of me?”

“Not these days,” Javy says, “but is it so horrible of me to want you to see the error of your decisions and change? When I offered you a life here you were a different man.”

A different man. A weaker man. A man who had nothing left to live for.

Losing everything he once cared about—that is what changed him, but who’s to say the man he is today isn’t who he was always meant to be? Maybe it burrowed inside of him long ago and was waiting for the encouragement to expose itself. And what is so wrong about that? That doesn't make him a bad man.

He was a man who was missing the drive and purpose he needed. But then—despite being under the cruelest of circumstances—he found it. And when you find purpose you have to take hold of it and claim it any way you can before it’s ripped away from you. If Javy still can’t understand that then it must be the type of thing you have to live for yourself in order to grasp how it feels.

Jake’s eyes contain a challenge against his friend’s stare as he leans forward to brace his elbows on his knees and clasp his hands. “You try having Fate fuck you over, and then we’ll see the kind of man you become,” he says.

Javy sighs and crosses his arms. “I’m not denying the poor timing of your first meeting, but you coped with that for years, and now that you’ve snapped–”

“I haven’t snapped,” Jake snaps.

“Yes, you have. She was moving up in her life, finding some happiness, trying to make some friends at a new job, and then you took her,” Javy tells him, but not to chastise. That lecture was one Jake received weeks ago and Javy knows another won’t alter what has been done. “And you can’t keep her in The Tower forever. When this catches up with you—because it will—what do you intend to do?”

“She will love me by then.”

“You’re hoping she will love you by then,” Javy counters, “And you’re hoping when questioned, she’ll lie for you.”

Jake groans and shoots to his feet, running a hand through his hair. Gesturing in the general direction of your room, he says, “If she loves me then she’ll be lying for both of us because she’ll know it’s the only way we can be together.”

“And if she doesn't?”

“I'm not entertaining ‘if she doesn't’,” Jake says harshly. “She will. I’ll get rid of that stubbornness and she’ll remember why she wanted me in the first place.”

Javy pushes up from his leaned position, nearing the blond. “She wanted you because the two of you had some kind of carnal pull to one another, but–”

“It’s more than that,” Jake stops him. “We share more than that. She just refuses to see it.”

But you will. You’ll come to your senses. He knows that it’s more than sex, but it’s because of that sex that he believes something in you felt him over the years even though you did not see him. That’s why it was so easy to come together that night. You don’t sleep with just anyone. You’re picky and careful, as you should be, but you showed no reservations when giving yourself to him. You weren’t timid when he stripped you of your clothes; you were too focused on ripping him out of his. You weren’t embarrassed by your sweet moans and pretty cries. You were comfortable around him, and you will be again.

When Jake realizes Javy hasn’t spoken, he shoves his thoughts aside and pays closer attention to the look directed his way. It’s a medley of emotions. Skepticism and concern. Cautious hope and pity and acceptance. Acceptance of what, it’s hard to determine. Impending doom, likely, since Javy’s so sure of its inevitability.

Finally, Javy blinks. His lips stretch into a thin line, then he says, “Be smart about this, Jake.”

And Jake replies, “I’m always smart.”

“You're not,” Javy has no shame in telling him. “That's the problem.”

—

READER POV

“You can’t speak to anyone from your past, you can’t be seen by anyone from your past, you have to stay in my sight at all times, and you can’t do anything that would jeopardize our ability to return here on time,” Jake says. “You break any of these rules and I drag you back before midnight.”

Raising a brow, you cross your arms over your chest. “You think I can’t manage that? I’ve complied with everything you’ve asked of me for two whole weeks.”

Everything down to accepting his cupping of your cheek one night as he nearly kissed you. He hadn’t though, and his reasons for pulling back instead of taking what he wanted as he’s so used to doing robbed you of four hours of sleep.

“I wouldn’t put it past you to go rogue,” he says. “But you can’t. There are actual consequences I can’t protect you from.”

Yes, you know. He has mentioned that often. “Consequences, Angel. There are consequences to not following the rules.” For the last couple of weeks, it has felt like hours upon hours of the same droning on, the same lesson as if your short-term memory is flawed. But then he’d thrown in “It's your first time, and there’s a chance you’ll forget everything I’ve told you the minute you touch foot down there. You’ll be tempted to break them.”

That was what finally struck a cord of concern.

Of course, it had crossed your mind to break them, even though you’d known of Jake’s fate when he had done the same, but if he had to warn you of the temptation, you wondered how tempting it would really be. Would you be spending your precious, limited time there miserable because of the invisible chains on your wrists and ankles and the gag in your mouth as you try to resist the desperation to bond with the life you left behind?

“How tempted?” you had asked.

You were taken aback by one look from him. A harshness was in the green, but you are no fool, and you could see exactly what it was concealing. A memory—pain.

“Incredibly,” he’d told you. “At least, I was. And I paid for it.”

You hadn’t responded, but you kept his words in the back of your mind, ultimately deciding to trust in your strength. It was either that or risk never seeing home again, and that wasn't, and isn’t, an option for you.

“I’m not going to do anything, Jake,” you swear.

He peers into your eyes a little too long, but you let him search for the lie that isn’t there until he’s satisfied. He blinks and then gives a sharp nod. “Good,” he says. “Then close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close them,” he repeats. “You don’t need to know how to get where we’re going.”

Another thing to comply with. Rolling your eyes, you drop your arms to your sides. Jake pulls a blindfold out of his jeans pocket and folds it in thirds.

“Seriously?”

He looks up and steps closer. “Close, your, eyes,” he instructs again.

With a sigh you do as he says, then he wraps the fabric around your head, tying a little knot in the back.

“This is–” Stupid, you were going to say, but you’re cut off by the yelp that escapes your throat when you’re suddenly lifted into his arms, your legs and wings draped over his forearms.

“Hold on Angel,” he says.

Your hands clasp behind his neck. “Yea, no kidding.”

When he shoots up into the air, you have to tuck your head against his t-shirt to block out the rush and whirl of wind that’s quickly encompassing you. It’s all too fast, the pressure much too extreme that you feel as if you’ve gained thirty pounds in ten seconds. It’s the initial take-off of the rollercoasters at the theme park you went to as a child. The kind of feeling that locks your limbs in place.

However, it’s not long that you’re going up before you begin to fall back down at a speed that suggests the man holding you can’t fly and you’re about to greet the end of your life. The sharp change in movement twists and curls your insides. Your lungs are confused, unsure whether inhaling or exhaling would better suit you at the moment. You don’t know, so you don’t breathe.

Jake lands with a thud and sets you down on wobbly legs. One large hand wraps around your upper arm; the other slips the blindfold over your head and back into his pocket. You’re well-hidden behind a large tree as your eyes adjust to the bright neon lights that bleed from the city night.

Home. You’re home. You’re at the far end of a sidewalk by the docks that no one visits after six o’clock in the evening, but it’s still home, and you already feel yourself being sucked in by the central bustle of bodies and cars.

You take a step forward, much weaker than you intended, and Jake’s grip on you tightens.

“Not yet,” he says. “You need to shed your wings.”

That detail had escaped you, the excitement too overpowering. But you keep that excitement from showing on the outside, just as you had when he’d told you a few days ago that removing the wings was possible for you, too.

Standing taller, you prepare yourself for more instructions.

“Close your eyes again,” he begins, his voice a deep vibration in your ear. “Clear your mind. Create an image of your wings and the feathers plucking free, falling to the ground one at a time until you have no more. Picture the bone and cartilage crumbling,” he says. “And keep doing that until you feel the loss of the weight.”

It takes at least a full minute, but you’re lighter. When you look down, your feathers coat the ground, a few layered with his. Like ash and snow.

“Good,” he says, but his tone doesn’t match the praise. It’s the slightest bit wounded as if he’s grieving something he held dear.

You turn your head. Your eyes flick to his and you find them glued to your back—your back which is now bare of the one thing that shows the world you’re something other than human.

His Adam's apple bobs. “Let’s go,” he says.

“Where can we?”

“Anywhere that keeps you from running into someone that would recognize you or would’ve been concerned about your sudden absence.”

That definitely knocks out work, the old late-night cafe you used to frequent, the park on third—too small. But as far as you know, everything else is fair game. And if it’s not, you’re sure Jake won’t hesitate to inform you.

—

The temptation he’d warned you about isn’t as aggressive as you anticipated. It’s there, for sure, but you don’t find yourself itching to be bold. There’s no one you wish to see, and you skirt the perimeters of the locations you choose because of the thought that you might fuck up and give him reasons not to bring you back in the future.

He should be thrilled with your behavior. He should be riding one of his ego trips from getting you to do what he wants without additional scolding, but that’s not what’s happening. Instead, he’s worse by the hour.

Occasionally his eyes light up when you smile or chuckle at the places and things you haven’t seen for the month that has felt like a year, but between your grins and laughs, his face hasn’t once failed to fall.

He has taken to trailing behind you. If both hands are not in his pockets it is because one is running through his hair or down his face. To your statements, he hums. To your questions, he mutters answers. He hates it, you realize. All of it. Almost as much as you hate the place he has forced you to exist in ever since he took you.

His mood is only exacerbated by your desire to go to your apartment.

“Can you hold this?” you ask as you raise the window. “Won’t stay up, and maintenance ignored all of my requests.”

Jake nods, placing his hand on the base of the sill so you can ease yourself through the opening. You do the same for him as he steps off the fire escape onto the ragged carpet of your living room floor.

You take in the space, and it’s so…weird. Not a thing has shifted from the place you left it. The only additions left out of the memory you’ve kept in your mind are the layer of dust coating every surface and the slip of paper under your front door with Eviction Warning written in red lettering. And the smell. It doesn’t smell like you remember. You’re not immediately soaked in the scent of lavender essence left over from the half-burnt candle on the side table.

“Feels like I’ve been gone forever,” you say. You look over your shoulder at Jake. “Does time move differently there and I just didn’t notice?”

His hands are back in his pockets. His eyes are tired. “No, Angel,” he says.

Your sigh fades into a hum.

As you move about the room, you measure it all with your eyes.

Your couch. You always sat on the right. That cushion is more worn than the other two.

The lampshade is still crooked from when you last changed the lightbulb. Its poor alignment had caused a slight burn mark in the material from the shade leaning against the heat of the bulb, and yet, rather than straighten it out, you had twisted it on its diagonal axis so the mark faced the wall.

The TV remote is nowhere in sight, of course, because you were never the best at remembering where you put it down; a habit so frustrating you’re tempted to hunt for it now.

Your coffee table still has the scratch in the middle from when you’d dropped your mug onto the wood, shattering it to pieces. That had pissed you off. You’d just bought it from the flea market.

A mug—you’d left one out that morning. You turn your head to your kitchen where it still sits on the counter.

You walk over and grab it. There’s a coffee ring in the bottom, so you take it to the sink and wash it out, then flip it over to dry on a dishcloth. You weren’t a fan of leaving dishes scattered about, even for half a day, but you don’t know why it ever mattered. Since moving in, no one had entered this place but you, and well…him.

Suddenly, something deep and thick descends upon you. Though the space around you appears to have frozen in time from the moment you disappeared, there are things that did not freeze along with it that you can’t ignore.

Like the food in your fridge and the special chocolate cookies in your cabinet that the grocery store rarely had in stock. Rotten and stale. What a waste.

There’s a plant in your bathroom—a little one that relied on your sense of responsibility to keep it alive. It sits on a shelf in a dark purple pot you’d found on sale and now brittle leaves surely litter the tiles.

And, oh god, the cat. You used to leave a bowl of tuna out for the stray cat that climbed the stairs to paw at your window. What about him? Is he ok? Did he give up after being ignored? How long did that take? Did he feel abandoned? Does he miss you?

Bracing your hands on the counter, your head falls forward. You close your eyes and take a breath, and then you open them and—Fuck, there’s a cheerio on the floor. You forgot the damn cheerio; that tiny ring of processed wheat from breakfast that has been hanging out here in limbo wondering if it’ll be trashed or devoured by ants because you were running late that morning and told yourself you’d throw it out later but you didn’t and so there’s a fucking cheerio on your floor.

You can’t look at it, but then you don’t know where to look, or what to do. You don’t dare go into your bedroom. The sheets will be rumpled. Your underwear will be wherever it landed when it was taken off your body and tossed aside.

Shit, the laundry! You forgot to take it out of the washing machine. Mildew probably grew in the creases and folds. They'll have to go through the cycle again. You'll need detergent. You're out of detergent—used the last of it on the load that needs to be rewashed. Your favorite t-shirts are mixed in there somewhere. But it’s fine. You’ll do a quick wash, quick dry, quick fold, and put them in the drawer where they belong. How long could that take? An hour? Two? You have enough time, right? And while you're at it you really should set some tuna out and get rid of the spoiled food and fix the lampshade and find the remote and apologize to the plant and–

“We can pretend, Angel,” Jake whispers from behind you, making you jolt in your spot. You didn’t hear his approach—he keeps doing that—and he’s so close that his breath flutters wisps of your hair. “Forget everything, for a bit. Be the way we were that night.”

His disruption sidetracks you from the laundry, the cheerio, the cat, the plant, the food. For a second, you can barely process his words, but it doesn’t take long for the confusion to sort itself out.

You swallow. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to be human anymore,” you whisper, reminding him of what he has drilled into your brain again and again and again.

“You’re not,” he says. Then his arms are flanking your sides, palms pressing into the edge of the countertop. “But we look the part, don’t we?” Hot air is on your neck. You think you can hear his heart thumping. “Just tonight. Just here.”

Just here. Here, the last place you were before he made you into the creature you are. Here, the last place you can say that you were entirely you. Here, the last place you spent a happy moment. Your final happy moment. A moment that included him, back when you believed you were bringing home some guy. Just some guy. A beautiful guy. A human guy.

You liked that human guy.

You miss that human guy.

Sometimes you wish he'd show up again. Save you and promise you it was all a nightmare.

“Why?” you ask.

“Don’t ask why,” he answers. “Just tell me yes.”

And because you don’t want to go back to thinking about what you’ve lost; because you’re uneasy and overwhelmed and numb and weak now that you're realizing home really isn’t home anymore but a ghostly echo of who you were, you don’t possess the mental wherewithal to care about your decisions. All you want is a memory—a good memory—within your reach.

So you turn yourself right around, and you kiss him.

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #top gun #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #demon!jake seresin #tgm fic #tgm #jake seresin x you

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paellegere · 3 days

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it's so great that the pilot episode of supernatural features a monster born out of anguish toward her husband's infidelity. and even greater that sam is the one targeted by her—implying then that sam has been unfaithful.

the show opens with the themes of infidelity and returning home. sam takes the central role in the conflict here and must make a choice to return home.

he stands on the threshold of two homes: family, where he comes from, and stanford, where he's forged a life for himself. his internal conflict is made manifest by the woman in white: like constance, he wants to go home, but he can't. the "home" sam can't return to shifts over the course of the episode. in the beginning, it's the family he can't return to, but by the end of the episode, it's his normal apple-pie life at stanford. these two homes are embodied by jess and dean, who both want him to come back to them.

the home distorts and melds with the lover as a result: jess literally occupies both spaces, which implies that dean occupies both as well. and then the woman in white attacks sam, targets him for his perceived infidelity, or potential for it. but who is it that he's unfaithful to, then? to jess, because he ran off with his brother? or to dean, because he abandoned him for jess?

but sam hasn't been unfaithful yet—he hasn't made his decision, hasn't chosen which home he'll return to. when the woman in white can't leave the impala, he realizes that she's scared to go home. it's a turning point in the literal plot and for sam's internal conflict. he voices his fear of returning home. this as a result implicates which "home" he will inevitably return to.

it's immediately after this realization that constance attacks him. he hasn't been unfaithful—yet. perhaps constance recognizes that sam's perception of home is shifting here, that "home" is no longer jess and has once again become dean. he's on the precipice of infidelity, and the ghost has seen the ending: "you will be."

sam drives the impala, the car he was raised in, the car he has called home, into constance's house and saves the day.

after this, sam becomes reluctant to go back to stanford. his surety from the beginning of the episode has become hesitant as he struggles to choose between his two homes. his home has shifted over the weekend, and it's only his sense of obligation that seems to win out at this point.

the woman in white's prophecy is finally fulfilled when sam adopts the revenge quest of his father. he chooses his home: dean. implicitly, this answers the question of who, exactly, sam was unfaithful toward. he leaves jess alone, vulnerable, and open to attack by running off on a weekend tryst with his brother. sam is the unfaithful husband, dean is the temptress, and jess is the dead wife haunting the next five episodes of sam's life. sam chooses dean, his home and his lover.

#liveblogging: supernatural #supernatural #1.01 #wincest #samdean #i said i was going to go through kripke era with a fine-toothed comb but it was supposed to be a joke #it wasn't supposed to result in essays #.txt #spn posting

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dfortrafalgar · 20 hours

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Gift of Belonging

Luffy x GN Reader

Life didn't have a purpose without Luffy.

Warnings: Fic from my 100 followers poll!!! can be read as either platonic or romantic, mentions of self deprecating thoughts but nothing too severe, just some short, feel good, reassuring hugs from our favorite straw hat-wearing captain <3

Taglist: @bokutosbiceps | @luffy0s | @surgeonoffish

You were at the end of your rope when you joined the straw hats, but who wasn’t? You weren’t special in the grand scheme of the world’s most infamous pirate crew. You couldn’t compare to the tumultuous lives of the rag-tag bunch that had quickly become your lifeline, you had nothing on being the child of an abusive royal family, or the last survivor of a decimated nation, or the unfortunate witness to the killing of a friend or parent, or a literal god. You weren’t a cyborg or an animal or a reincarnated being hundreds of years old. You were just… simple.

And yet, the Straw Hats made you feel accepted.

They made you feel wanted.

And no one had wanted you more than Monkey D. Luffy.

You still struggled to accept the boisterous boy’s words when he welcomed you aboard his grand ship. You had put up an argument, insisting that you would only get in the way, that your strengths paled in comparison to the rest of the crew, that you had no business being a part of the inner circle of one of the Emperors. But not a single eyelash was batted in the direction of your plight. Simply endless stares of patience, waiting for you to finally bite the lure and climb up the gangway and officially join the Straw Hats. And when you finally did, Luffy had said the words that had stuck with you since then.

“I don’t care who you are. You’re special and you deserve a spot in my family.”

It was as if the world opened up around you for the first time. Instead of seeing your surroundings in black and white, colors infiltrated your retinas in ways you had never experienced. Suddenly, the sunshine that beat down on your skin felt like a pleasant hug from the world, rather than a punishing burn against your weary being. Food you ate and drank every single day tasted extra good because it was always cooked with love and affection, the flirtatious cook not caring at all where you had come from. Luffy and his crew made it known from the second they met you that you were deserving of love, respect, and friendship.

And you couldn’t lie… the first few days were overwhelming.

The Straw Hats were loving. They were really loving, and their unique ways of showing they appreciated you were slowly building up in your veins like a disease until one night, when you were on watch, you cracked.

You broke down.

You sat on the stern of the Thousand Sunny, gazing out from the white-painted railings and over the vastness of the dark ocean and seamlessly blended in with the sky above you, the only light shining on you being from the twinkling stars millions of light years away. Quiet, salty tears flowed down your cheeks, your shoulders clenched as you wrapped your arms around yourself, sniffling into the collar of your shirt. You loved your crew, you really did. You began to realize that you loved them more than you ever loved anyone else in your life, and that thought somehow scared you. Like you were unprepared. Like your heart had been so deprived of love for your whole life that the overabundance of it in such a short time caused your brain to short-circuit. And you cried. You weeped on the Sunny’s back deck, into the calmness of the night.

Until the sound of clopping flip-flops climbing the steps to where you sat alerted your attention, causing you to freeze up, holding your breath, wishing your tears could evaporate away.

“Hey, what are you doing up here alone?” It was Luffy, his usually exuberant voice a rare form of calm as he approached you. He wasted absolutely zero time in plopping himself onto the hard deck beside you, extending his legs and holding his arms out, hands behind his head.

You stayed hunched into yourself, trying to hide your shame in your hands.

“Hey… are you alright?” he asked, his voice somehow even softer.

A faint sniffle from you was all your captain needed to hear. He sat up with a start and grabbed your shoulders with his calloused hands, yanking you around to face him. Your eyes were wide with shock at his actions, but you stayed frozen. It’s not like you could run anywhere, the man was made of rubber.

“Why are you crying?” he asked, his eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed, an intense stare that bored into your skin. “Did someone say something to you? Did someone hurt you?”

You shook your head, wiping your tears away on your arm. You took a deep, shuddering inhale before finally forcing your shoulders to relax. “No… no one said anything to me.”

“Then why are you crying?”

Luffy, despite not being overly emotional in normal circumstances, was scarily good at reading people. It didn’t matter if you couldn’t outright say what was bothering you, he would eventually figure it out with that convoluted tunnel system of a brain. His adorable lips curled into a pout as he analyzed your face, picking apart every twitch of your muscles.

You inhaled once more, turning your face away from him slightly. “I’m just… not used to this.”

“Not used to what?”

His questions, and the feigned clueless tone of his voice almost made a smile crack onto your face. Another talent of Monkey D. Luffy: he was like a wrecking ball for the walls you built up around yourself.

“I’m not used to… this.” Your hands circled around you, gesturing to the ship, causing Luffy to finally drop his hands from your shoulders. “Being a part of a crew. You guys are… too nice to me.”

Luffy was ready with a response immediately. “We could never be ‘too nice to you.’ That’s impossible. We love you.”

Your lip quivered slightly. “That’s what I’m not used to.”

“Being loved?”

There it was. You feebly nodded. “Yeah. That.”

Your captain scooted across the deck closer to you, if that was even possible. He was basically flush against you at this point. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a warm bear hug, his fluffy black hair tickling the skin of your cheek. “We love you because you’re special to us, we don’t need a reason for that,” he described. His voice faltered, as if he wanted to say something else, as if he was trying to add to his words. Instead, he squeezed you into him, closing his eyes as he felt your muscles grow limp. ‘We love you, but I love you more.’

“I just wish it was easier for me to accept that,” you whispered into his shoulder, struggling to hug him back.

Luffy’s embrace didn’t relent. If anything, he tried to pull you in closer. The force of his hug made you lose your balance on the floor, falling over on top of him, your chin hitting his shoulder. But he still didn’t let up. He held firm, squeezing you as if you would fade away into dust if he let go.

“Luffy–” you wheezed against his skin.

“What?” He sounded completely oblivious. “I’m going to keep hugging you until you don’t feel sad anymore. No more crying,” he demanded. “Captain’s orders.” His last sentence held a hint of playfulness, the smile he surely wore on his face coming through the sound of his voice.

He must have been contagious, because your own grin slowly grew on your lips. After what felt like hours, you finally reciprocated his hug, curling your arms under him and letting yourself finally relax in his embrace. You knew Luffy had odd ways of showing he cared, but this was definitely unexpected. Unexpected, but not necessarily unappreciated. His presence emitted a warmth akin to summertime air, his existence like the calming breeze of the open ocean that wafted around you and circled you in comforting drafts. Luffy never judged, never wavered, never ceased to let his crew, and now you, know how truly grateful he felt to be able to live his life with his favorite people.

You made a slight movement to stand up, but Luffy’s arms tightened their hold around your back. “Not yet,” he grumbled. “I don’t wanna stand up yet.”

“Is this how you comfort everyone on the crew?” you asked, your voice coming out muffled as you spoke into his neck.

“Hmm… not necessarily. Everyone’s different. Chopper really loves hugs, and Zoro lets me hug him, but sometimes Nami and Robin can take them or leave them. Usopp likes hugs but doesn’t like to admit it.” A smile crawled to your face as your captain rattled off the preferences of your fellow crewmates, the ways in which he perceived their unique and individual personalities bringing a comforting reassurance to your heart. “I feel like you really like hugs, and you clearly needed one right now.”

You bit the inside of your lower lip, trying to bite back the tears that formed in the corners of your eyes. The tension escaping your body dissipated in large waves, leaving you with nothing but warmth and comfort in the arms of the man who had surely saved your life.

And for the first time since officially joining the Straw Hats, you began to feel truly, unconditionally loved. It was miraculous. All it took was a single hug from the nicest, most selfless person you had ever met.

Someday, you’d be sure to return the favor for Luffy, even if he wouldn’t accept.

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #luffy x reader #monkey d luffy #luffy oneshot

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almonds-nsfw-world · 15 hours

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Idrila blesses me in your warmth - Argenti

.ೃ࿐𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 : ̗̀➛

-‘๑’- summary -- Argenti checking in on you since you've grown more distant despite aiding him in spreading the word of Beauty (perhaps against your will but who would deny such a kind heart?), but you couldn't help but feel your feelings grow for him by the day.

-‘๑’- pairing -- Argenti x gn! reader

-‘๑’- status -- friendship, he made you a co-worker as well after he saved you, hidden feelings

-‘๑’- situation -- SFW, comfort, Argenti being Argenti, helping Argenti spread the word of Idrila (if it means you're under his protection of course).

You don't even know how you found yourself upon his journey across the stars, spreading beauty and worship in awake.

Well, you do, but that's only because the brave knight in dashing armour and red, luscious hair saved you from a catastrophe with the legion. But alas, he swooped in by some divine timing and blessed you with his utter devotion to this Idrila Aeon - who may or may no longer exist.

Though, you wouldn't dare tell him that.

You sighed at the memory, knowing how you promised to aid him in spreading the word of his grand Aeon. You don't even know if letting him believe you're honourable to the duty he had bestowed upon you is cruel.

But damn stars in hell, he was far too kind and generous for his own good, it made him incredibly...naïve? Gullible? It made you feel bad in all honesty. He's a gentle soul in other words.

He took his kindness seriously.

Extremely seriously.

You bit your lip, your eyes scanning over the words of a novel you tried to focus upon, finding yourself thinking of the knight with hair as red as a rose and eyes like glimmering emeralds. It was unfair how one could truly be so beautiful.

You grimaced, cursing yourself to become so distracted again that you didn't even hear the soft clank and clatter of armour approaching you from behind the comfy chair. Everything within the 'One-and-Only' was comfortable and dashing.

Your fingers fidgeted upon the corner of the page.

"What troubles you, my friend?", red and silver dashed in gold came from the corner of your eye, alerting you of the Knight of Beauty's presence. That silken voice of his could only melt the frown upon your features.

You glanced up at him, watching as he bowed in greeting, a smile upon his face. You cleared your throat, trying to bite back the blush threatening to spill across your cheeks, "Nothing, I mean, I was just...reading?" You struggled to avoid those sweet, kind eyes of his, biting your lip before shaking your head, "is there something you'd want to talk about, Argenti?"

A soft chuckle escaped those lips of his, causing his eyes to close and to reveal those thick lashes of his as he straightened himself, "My friend, do I need a reason to speak to someone I hold dear to my heart? A friend whom has travelled with me across the stars in hopes to spread the word of Beauty?"

You cheeks could only flush.

"No", you stammered out, bringing your knees to your chest and closing the book, shaking your head as you gave him a small smile, "feeling lonely in the cockpit?" A soft laugh vibrated from his chest, making his eyes twinkle and the corners of his lips to upturn, "Silence allows one to admire the beauty around them and to see things one would not notice amidst sound. Though, lately, you've grown quieter, I just merely wished to see how you are fairing, my friend."

He lowered his head in sincerity, placing his hand upon his chest in emphasis to the genuine words that flowed from those lips of his.

Your smile slightly faltered, "I'm sorry, Argenti, a lot has been in my mind lately. I didn't mean to seem so... distracted." You sighed, straightening out your legs and placing the novel down upon the side table, only to see a rose placed before your face - the suddenness of it caused your eyes to widen and for its delicate smell to fill your nose.

"Perhaps this small gift shall make your smile brighten once more like the stars that adorn the night sky. This rose a symbol of innocence and beauty that adorns you and all that dwells around you." He gently slipped it behind your ear - this time noticing the smooth stem instead of the thorns that usually adorned it.

He must've trimmed it so it could perch itself behind your ear without causing you pain or discomfort. Your eyes could only glance up into his own in disbelief and a flicker of...vulnerability? "You didn't have to, Argenti...", you softly spoke, tearing your eyes away from his own as your fingers brushed along the smooth petals, "but thank you."

Your stomach tightened and your cheeks reddened before you slowly leaned forward, kissing his cheek gently - only to lean back against the chair once more and bring your knees to your chest before grabbing onto the book once more.

His eyes had widened at the gesture until they softened, his smile widening in its kindness and warmth, "do not thank me, it is only my pleasure. You have helped me in ways I could never do myself, so for that, it should be I that is thanking you." He gently took your hand away from the book, sliding his fingers upon your palm before bending down once more and placing his lips against your skin.

His eyes fluttered closed while the warmth spread through your system, leaving you breathless and your heart to stammer.

"I should return back to the front, but do not be afraid of seeking me if you wish to converse. There is beauty in sound as well if you listen closely", he softly whispered, straightening himself up as you feel his fingertips linger upon your own before he withdrew them. His smile was soft and kind, like always, "Idrila blesses me in your warmth and comfort."

As he walked back towards the door, you couldn't help but close eyes and smile. His fragrant, flowery smell filling your nose while the softness of the petals of the rose he had gifted you felt warm beneath your touch - you knew this came from his heart.

All the more reason to treasure his kindness and honour in every way you can - even if it means putting up your jealousy for an Aeon who may be dead.

A soft chuckle spilled from your lips at that thought.

#𖤓 artwork: artist unknown

# ‧͙⁺-ˋˏalmond writesˎˊ˚⁺‧͙#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai: star rail #honkai #x reader #hsr x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #x y/n #argenti x reader #hsr argenti x reader #argenti #argenti x you #hsr argenti #honkai star rail x reader #honkai imagines #star rail

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atopvisenyashill · 2 days

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Catelyn's resentment at always having to adhere to men is not talked about enough in my opinion. When she bitterly thinks that she always did her duty. When she thinks about having to wait for the men in her life. When she snaps that Robb did not her consider his sisters important enough. When she laments that no one sings songs of the battles of women aka childbirth and children.... Yes she conforms because she is realistic and pragmatic and dutiful and she wants to survive and be happy enough and she wants the same for her daughters.

YES EXACTLY. I think it’s like. For so long she conformed because it was realistic pragmatic dutiful, because being a perfect lady and heir made things easier on her parents, and she loved her parents, she wanted them to he proud, and it turned out she was GOOD at so many of the things they asked of her, and it gave her the ability to be in charge of herself and her life for so long, and when minisa died, she could help lift the burden off her father’s shoulders, and it gave her the ability to grow and speak her mind, and being dutiful brought her ned, who was so much more than she ever thought she’d get, and it brought her five amazing children, and a home she loves and can be free in - like jon snow thing does suck but compare this situation to like upwards of 90% of the marriages & you know what it’s a fucking dream and Catelyn knows this, she is aware things can always be worse, it’s why she understands immediately why jon & lysa were doomed from the start, she understands this system and how it works, and it’s worked so well for her she can ignore the ways it has hurt her.

And then it just. Completely fails her. She’s tricked by Lysa and Petyr, the two people she’d least expect it from that she never even entertains the idea, Ned is murdered, Sansa is a hostage, Arya is just gone, Bran has been nearly murdered twice, and she’s in her childhood home and Hoster is dying and Edmure is annoying and Blackfish is off fighting again and she’s reliving the worst days of her life but this time the person waging war isn’t a husband she doesn’t know, it’s her own son and she just can’t stop thinking about how she’s done everything right, she’s played by the rules her whole life, she upheld the social contract because it promised she’d have control over her life, and then the whole thing just completely fails because joffrey has a tantrum after petyr whispered in his ear, AGAIN, just another mad king with power hungry advisors, and she’s stuck in this room AGAIN-

AND SHE DOES.

like, that’s what happens, is she spends her whole life doing what she’s supposed to and then it crumbles down around her and she just figures, fuck it, if following the rules can’t do the one (1) most important thing it has to do which is keep my family alive than i’m not following shit anymore. she starts to just do what she thinks is best. starts to snap back. starts to just speak without being asked. like, she’s cracking, she’s breaking up, YEAH she’s still dutiful, but what is she being dutiful TOWARDS? is she doing what robb says? what edmure says? NO, she’s making her OWN DECISIONS she’s trying. and then people will see her become a literal undead spirit of rage and revenge and be like “she’s so dutiful and never struggles or chafes against the patriarchy” when she struggled and screamed so much at the ending she was clawing her own face to ribbons!!

#asks #anons #s2g made this months ago then scrapped the meta but now here it is akdjndndn

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lurkingshan · 2 days

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Japanese QL Corner

We back! I was away for a couple weeks and amazing new Japanese bl was waiting for me on my return. Both of these currently airing shows are on Gaga and I highly recommend watching.

At 25:00 in Akasaka

Two episodes into this show and I really like the rhythm of it. I find Shirasaki’s struggle to find confidence in his skills as an actor compelling, and I love Hayama’s quiet kindness. I told @bengiyo Hayama reminds me a bit of my beloved Issei but without the manic energy. Fundamentally, he is genuine and he cares for Shirasaki and any ulterior motives he has for this arrangement feel rooted in that. I love how quickly we’re getting into them bonding and building a relationship together; it's only the second episode and we’ve already arrived at cute date montages and first names. I love this one, and I hope Shirasaki finds his confidence and triumphs over that asshole costar who keeps negging him.

Living With Him

I love them, your honor. And I like the simplicity of this show. Two nice boys, childhood friends, become roommates. They like each other. They decide to spend more time together and see what they’re comfortable with as their relationship develops. That’s it, that’s the plot. And it’s so compelling in how straightforward it is, bolstered by the honesty of the characters. I loved Natsukawa working up the courage to just ask if Kazuhito likes him, and Kazuhito being honest that he does, but doesn’t want him to feel pressured. Natsukawa might not feel confident that he’s ready for romance, but he has no issue spending time with and being close to Kazuhito. The way he clutched at him with that hug at the end made that super clear. I like the way the show is working in flashbacks to their childhood, too, giving us contextual information for that bond via important memories, and the way Natsukawa's family has been brought into the story. His mom is in fact beautiful and perceptive and his sisters are adorable. This show is darling.

Coming Soon: Zettai BL 3

This is already out in Japan, but the distribution is exclusive to Lemino and not currently available to international audiences. I will be on the look out and reporting in as soon as it's available to watch properly. In the meantime, you can join me in watching the new opening credits song on a loop.

#at 25:00 in akasaka #25 ji akasaka de #living with him #kare no iru seikatsu #zettai bl ni naru sekai vs zettai bl ni naritakunai otoko #japanese bl #japanese ql corner #shan shouts into the void

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steveharrington · 7 hours

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major hornets nest moment here but i must speak my truth. its so fascinating to me how will byers was clearly written with the driving motivation and intention of making him a beloved fan favorite character and instead he falls so flat that, if you asked the average casual viewer of the show who doesn't engage in the fandom like, say, your coworker, the odds of him even being in their top five of favorite characters is pretty low.

will's disappearance kicks off the plot, singlehandedly. the first episode is literally called the vanishing of will byers. his name is shouted so much in the first season that most people would recognize the reference if you used the right cadence and desperation that winona ryder does. after not being featured much in season one, you'd think season two would've just like launched will/noah schnapp into stardom with how much more screentime he's given and how dramatic his plot is that season. but instead the fan favorites of season 2 were by and large el, hopper, dustin, steve, max, even bob who's barely there. that's not to say that there AREN'T will fans out there (and online i understand there are like entire armies dedicated to him/byler, but i'm talking about the average opinion of viewers as a whole, not just in fandom spaces) but think about all the stranger things merch you see in stores, the halloween costumes, the characters that appear in promotional materials when the show has partnerships with brands....will is so rarely featured. idk if any of yall ever got the chance to visit the stranger things pop up shop in any of its various locations, but there was such little mention of will in the stores theming or merchandise that it was almost funny. actually it WAS funny, to me, someone who does not care for him

i think the flop can be attributed to many things. one, noah schnapp is just not a very good actor and he doesn't have the same appeal in his performances that millie, sadie, caleb, gaten, priah, or finn do (although finn i've noticed is also kinda falling out of favor from majority audiences). one could argue that noah schnapp intentionally isn't given much to do, which is true and i'll circle back to that, but the decline in his acting between seasons 2 and 3 is truly a sight to behold. when he's not like tied up and screaming, he reallllllly struggles on the smaller scale performances compared to the other cast members his age. he doesn't really have the charm that gaten does or the humor that priah does or the depth that caleb does. (i don’t feel bad about saying this, btw, given noah schnapp’s behavior)

back to the vanishing of will byer's screen time. my beloved prettymuchit's eric striffler commented on how diminished will and mike's roles in the story have become in s4. "noah schnapp is below the grips on the call sheet" is my fav line, but he also makes an observation on finn's role that i think is soooo accurate. when mike and will are kneeling down next to the pizza dough freezer and watching el just kinda twitch while she fights vecna in her mind, eric and his co-host miles say "this is so embarrassing! finn's like, 'oh so gaten's fighting the monster? and i'm kneeling next to a tub at a pizza place? i used to be this show" and i think the same exact sentiment can be superimposed onto will

but i think this happened naturally, as the nature of the show is to shift its focus from character to character. not to mention the duffer brothers' obsession with tweaking their story to give audiences what they want. i've always held the belief that there isn't one main character of stranger things, rather a rotating circle of characters depending on the season you're watching. season one is mike, season two is hopper, season three is el, season four is max imo. again that's a little subjective and arguments could be made to swap those a little, but overall i think those characters stories and point of views take center stage during each of their respective seasons. by season 3, the duffers wanted to kick things up to a larger scale. the UD is no longer targeting just will, it's targeting the entire town. this works because a THIRD season in a row where this one kid specifically gets possessed would just be bonkers, so they kinda had to let him take a backseat. i'm not sure why they didn't let will be more involved in the mystery-solving portion of season 3....to this day that decision baffles me, but what's done is done and the will that everyone watched in season 3 literally just kinda follows everyone around and gets a small little slice of a plotline about wanting things to go back to normal, but alas

it like totally worked, though. though there are MANY complaints commonly made about season 3, i've never heard anyone offline complain that there wasn't enough will byers. i think the group in s3 that had the most success like, commercially, would be scoops troop and then a bit farther back i think most audiences enjoyed hopper/joyce/murray's dynamic. i think if there had been a huge outcry in the minimizing of will's role, the duffers would've backpedaled immediately. they aim to please. they can't even commit to killing of a main character out of fear that audiences will lose interest if we permanently lose hopper or max, so they just do some creative writing that allows them to milk the emotional consequence of those characters deaths without actually writing them off. if audiences on a large scale demanded that will be center stage, he would be. but they dont!

final point: i think will gets fucked over by the duffers obsession with romance. in season one, two of will's strongest dynamics are with his mom and brother. which like, yeah. theyre his immediately family and he is 12. but in seasons 2 and 3, jonathan spent all his screen time with nancy and from 2-4, joyce has spent all her screen time either with hopper or in the pursuit of finding hopper. these characters are written together as a package deal, typically. it was refreshing and unexpected to see jonathan get a whole season with a friend of his very own and his siblings, but they barely took advantage of that. jonathan and will get ummmm one (1) scene to talk about their emotions in a fucking 20 hour season. it's hard for will to be a main character when he rarely gets to interact with the people that make up the other half of his main dynamics.

as for byler, im of the belief that it will not be endgame because i just don't think they're going to break up mike and el at this point. i could be completely wrong and stand corrected, but im like 90% sure lol. i do think that will's s4 storyline resonated with a lot of people. even eric striffler! i think the issue is that the vastttt majority of people who watch this show above the age of like 15 do not feel invested about the romantic relationships between any of the kids. because why would they!!! theyre literally in middle school for 3/4 of the show. you would be hard pressed to find a vocal will stan online who doesn't also dedicate 90% of their engagement with the show to byler. which makes sense, because most if not all of will's scenes revolve around mike to some degree. but according to neilsen, the majority of stranger things audience is consistently in the 18-49 age range season by season. its more likely for adult audiences to identify with adults (or characters who are narratively treated like adults, like steve and nancy) than with any of the kids. esp when the kid in question, despite being written as the focal point of the show, has less relevant plotlines, less interaction with other characters, and an actor who just doesn't deliver on charm the way his fellow younger costars do

#two ppl asked for it in the inbox so voila

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captainremmington-13 · 2 days

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A Lady Made of Snow

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own The Hunger Games franchise, the images above, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, or any of the characters in this fic other than Bellova. I also do not condone the beliefs or actions of Coriolanus or Bellova.

SUMMARY: Bellova becomes Mrs. Snow.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: THIS IS A VERY DARK CHAPTER. It contains violence, verbal/physical abuse/domestic violence, mention of death and suicide, misogyny, Coriolanus being horrible, HEAVY ALLUSIONS TO SEX, NONCON, swearing

A/n: This was painful to write🥲

𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫

No matter what she did, Bellova couldn’t stop the silent screams that echoed throughout her mind.

This was supposed to be the happiest day of her life.

She’d fantasized about it as a little girl, laying in her bed wide awake when she was supposed to be sleeping, thinking about a beautiful, luxurious wedding held in her honor. How she’d carefully pick her bridal party, and go dress shopping with them, and pick out a gorgeous white gown to walk down the aisle in. How she’d meticulously write out her passionate vows, and how she’d recite them to her future husband while the entire audience struggled to hold back tears of joy. Perhaps she would shed a tear or two, but her blinding smile would distract from that. After kissing her groom, a large reception filled to the brim with all of her favorite foods and drinks would be held. She’d have the first dance with her new husband, and then take the dance floor with her beloved father, who would undoubtedly be hesitant to give her away. But he would, because he loved her, and wanted her to be happy.

As she stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror of her dressing room, she knew that all of those dreams would never be fulfilled.

Half of them had already been crushed.

She had no bridal party. She didn’t get to choose her wedding dress. Her vows were generic and lacked any honesty. If she shed any tears while reciting them, they would be ones of despair. The kiss she shared with her husband would be for show, not because he really loved her. The reception and the first dance would be for the cameras and newspapers only.

And there would be no father-daughter dance.

Her husband-to-be had ensured that.

“You’re all set, miss,” the makeup artist said, setting down the brush that had been dusting powder across Bellova’s cheeks. “Do you feel comfortable in your gown? If you need anything adjusted, please let us know now. The ceremony will be quite long, and it will be less enjoyable if you are in any kind of pain.”

‘I am,’ the repressed voice inside of her wanted to scream. ‘I have been for almost a whole year.‘

Instead, she shook her head. “I’m fine, thank you. I require no adjustments.”

Bellova looked at her reflection once more, and an invisible string forced her lips to smile.

The white silk wedding dress was a custom design, made specifically for her and only her to wear. The neckline, which was an off-the-shoulder cut, was lined with faux white roses. They were itchy, and in Bellova’s opinion, they looked extremely tacky. They were beautiful, but she knew they were only there to remind her who she belonged to. The dress laced up in the back, giving her waist a “snatching” effect. If it was tightened just a centimeter more, she was sure it would crack her ribs.

Besides the roses, she hated the ridiculously large bow at the bottom of the corset laces the most. It looked far too girlish for a grown woman.

But she had no say in the making of the dress. And she knew by now that protesting would only make her miserable life worse.

Her mind was dragged through hell and back every moment she was awake. Most of the time, she was morphed into a completely new person. She felt like a puppet being controlled by the devil himself, doing and saying things against her will. She only came out of this trance-like state at night, when the curse Dr. Gaul had planted on her was lifted temporarily. She would unleash her rage as quickly and violently as she could, throwing things and screaming profanities. Her captor had to make her bedroom soundproof, because her piercing cries would alarm the staff of the Reginelle estate.

One night, Enolio had burst into her room after hearing a loud bang and a scream. Bellova had thrown a punch at her fiancé but missed, giving him an opportunity to lift her up and slam her to the ground.

The next morning, when she awoke, she was back under the influence of the serum. A small voice suppressed deep in her brain screamed for her to ask what had happened to the butler, but she couldn’t get the words out. It was as if an invisible gag was stuffed into her mouth.

She never saw Enolio again.

“Could you give me a moment alone, please?” Bellova said to the makeup artist. “I’ll make my way to my designated place in a moment so the ceremony can begin.” The woman nodded, and left the room promptly.

As soon as she was alone, the tears that had been threatening to spill over for the three hours it took to prepare for the wedding finally came. She sunk down to the floor, shaking like a leaf.

It took all of her mental strength to fight against the hypnotizing drugs that had infected her brain. They threatened to take away any ounce of autonomy she had over herself, and if she allowed that to happen, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to regain it. It was if a thick fog had settled over her mind, and she had to constantly strain her eyes to see through it. If she let her guard down, she’d start believing she was truly the submissive girlfriend of the Snow heir.

She had to get out of here. By tying the knot, she’d be tying herself to him forever. That would mean that he won. That she had given up, and accepted her fate as his wife slave.

She longed to make a run for it, escaping the venue and heading for the Capitol border. But where would she go? She had nobody to seek shelter with. She wouldn’t make it far, anyway. Her dress was heavy and long, greatly restricting her ability to move. Peacekeepers or one of the guests would catch her before she got very far.

And after her fiancé got through with her, she’d be utterly, completely doomed.

She’d rather die by her own hand than his.

But suicide would mean that he had won. And she’d suffered for so long that she couldn’t bear to give him that.

No, she would live on. She would play along, for the sake of her own survival.

And when the perfect opportunity arose, she would strike. She would make him regret ruining her life and her future. She would laugh as he pleaded for mercy, and then bring him immeasurable pain.

But at the moment, she had a wedding to attend. Her wedding.

Bellova sighed, plastering a smile on her dolled-up face.

It was time for her to officially become Mrs. Coriolanus Snow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bellova’s head spun.

Her dress was feeling more like a straight jacket every minute. Her high heels were digging into her Achilles, and she was sure they had broken the skin. Between that and the never-ending turmoil inside of her mind, she felt like she was going to faint.

She gasped for air as subtly as she could, as not to alert the hundreds of guests attending the reception. She didn’t want to cause a fuss and pay the consequences in private.

After all, she knew that Coriolanus wouldn’t hesitated to “discipline” her. He’d made that very clear during the past several month.

Her husband was seated mere inches from her, sipping a glass of champagne. A silver ring glistened on his left hand. It had been custom made, and matched Bellova’s perfectly.

She looked down at her own wedding band. It was borderline obnoxious, but it was fitting for a family as pretentious as the Snows. Each of the stones was clear with a slight blue hue, and they were arranged to resemble a snowflake.

It was her another way for Coriolanus to declare her as his.

Bellova finished her glass of wine. It was her third of the night, and she was starting to feel extremely foggy. She knew it was not the smartest idea to become inebriated on her wedding night, but it helped ease the physical and mental pain.

She kept her mouth sealed, only speaking to guests who approached the newly wedded couple to congratulate them. Even then, she only said a few words, giving them a polite “thank you for coming”. She did her best to look elated.

Part of her conscience, which had been overtaken by that wretched serum, truly was happy. It tried to convince her that she’d just tied the knot with the love of her life.

But deep down, she was fuming.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Coriolanus glance at his watch. It was nearing midnight, and most of the guests were beginning to retire to their homes. Soon, it would be time for them to leave as well.

But they wouldn’t be going back to the Reginelle estate. No, they would be taking a limousine to District Four, where their honeymoon suite was waiting for them.

Bellova’s stomach churned unpleasantly. She knew all about what usually happened during the first night of married life.

She knew she couldn’t resist Coriolanus without being tortured or drugged again. He’d just inject her with her nightly dose of the serum, and then she’d have little to no control over herself.

Should she try to enjoy it? She’d be lying if she claimed she’d never fantasied about sleeping with Coriolanus before.

But this wasn’t how she’d imagine it would be. Not in the slightest.

In her daydreams during her Academy days, she had imagined it would take place once Coriolanus finally stopped bitching at her. He’d realize how perfect she was for him, and would beg her to be his girl. And when they were both ready, they’d take things to the most intimate level.

But Bellova was fully aware that Coriolanus didn’t love her. If he did decide to sleep with her, it wouldn’t be out of love. It would be yet another of his acts of dominance, to reassure him that he was in control.

Bellova looked down at her lap to avoid her husband’s gaze, her heart sinking deeper into her stomach by the second.

Though she couldn’t see it, she could feel Coriolanus give her a cold, cruel smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If Bellova thought she was anxious before the wedding, she had no idea what to call her current state.

Coriolanus had a vice-like grip on her left hand, and there was no indication that he’d release her anytime soon. This had started as soon as their driver announced that their destination was only ten minutes away.

He hadn’t spoken a word to her since they’d gotten in the limousine. Bellova had been slightly offended hurt by this. Shouldn’t a husband be happy to be in his wife’s company?

‘Stop being stupid,’ the small voice whispered. ‘He doesn’t give a fuck about you, he’s not going to even pretend he cares while you’re in private.’

Bellova slumped against the back of the car seat. She was still dizzy from all of the alcohol she had consumed, but refused to fully let her guard down.

Coriolanus could wreak unspeakable terrors on her if she stopped resisting.

As soon as she was alone with Coriolanus were alone in their luxury oceanside suite, Bellova felt the serum start to wear off.

Coriolanus picked up both of their bags and headed towards the bedroom. Bellova followed suit, metaphorically dragging her feet. He was still ignoring her, which forced a small pout into her lips. She couldn’t help but feel disappointed that her beloved wasn’t paying her any attention.

The bedroom was lavish, but not nearly as nice as her own. The king-sized bed had white silk sheets, and the walls were decorated with oil paintings depicting ocean scenery. There was a large balcony overlooking the sea, which held two plush lounge chairs and a small glass table. Everything was so picturesque that it could’ve been straight out of a romance novel.

Alas, her life was anything but love story.

As soon as Coriolanus tossed his blazer in a hamper in the corner and began loosening his tie, Bellova felt her stomach constrict.

Was he actually going to fuck her?

Bile rose in her throat. She wasn’t a desperate little schoolgirl anymore, clinging to hopeless dreams. She was a victim, a victim of Coriolanus Snow’s unrelenting apathy.

No. She wouldn’t let him have his way with her.

The searing pain in her temples told her that she was now in full control of herself. She had to act before she was dragged back under again.

Bellova kicked off her designer heels, not caring in the slightest if they broke, and prepared herself for yet another grueling fight.

But before she could lunge at her enemy, Coriolanus’s head snapped towards her, making her freeze on the spot.

His shirt was already halfway unbuttoned. This didn’t phase her, she’d seen him naked several times before, but purposefully chose to forget those moments.

It was the hungry gaze in his eyes that made her blood turn to ice.

“You’re really going to do this now?”

The nonchalance in his tone made Bellova want to scream.

“What are you talking about?”

“Are you going to fight like a rabid animal during the first night of our honeymoon?”

Bellova sneered at him. “A broken nose would match perfectly with your crimson tie, if I do say so myself.”

Coriolanus laughed humorlessly. “Hilarious. Now get undressed.”

Bellova’s fists clenched instinctively. If it wasn’t for the fact that he had a stash of syringes full of that dreaded in his briefcase, she would have decked him in the jaw.

��No.”

Coriolanus rolled his pretty eyes, stepping towards her. She backed away, but her spine quickly hit the wall of the room. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Mrs. Snow. Though it’s not like you have much of a say, anyhow.”

The way Coriolanus had spat out her new title made her flinch. It sounded so wrong, being called Mrs. Snow instead of Miss Reginelle.

“I don’t want you, and you don’t want me. Therefore, we don’t need to do anything tonight. It’s simple, really.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m fucking stupid,” Coriolanus barked. “If we don’t sleep together, people will talk. It’ll look bad for both of us. The press will say-“

“That’s all you care about these days,” Bellova said harshly. “And you’re assuming that the press will somehow know whether or not we fuck.”

The paranoia was evident in Coriolanus’s eyes. Clearly, this was a very important matter to him. Not because he actually wanted her, but because his shining reputation could be tarnished with rumors concerning their bedroom life.

“If you stop being a bitch for once, maybe I’ll let you stay off of the serum while we’re in bed, and I’ll consider making this enjoyable for you.”

Bellova rolled her eyes. He sounded like such an asshole, it was a wonder how he didn’t realize it. Or perhaps he did, and just didn’t care.

“What will it be?” Coriolanus asked sharply. “I’m not going to stand around waiting for much longer.”

An eerie silence filled the bedroom as Bellova weighed her options. She could attack him and do as much damage as possible before he drugged her. Or she could give in just for one night, and give herself a break.

She swallowed, and steeled her nerves. She knew exactly what she was going to do.

“Fuck this,” Coriolanus growled. His hand shot to her throat, squeezing so hard that Bellova could already feel the bruises forming. The familiar coldness of a needle poked at the skin on her neck, making her shudder wildly.

She hated it, but she was afraid.

“Please…” she croaked, clawing desperately at his arms. “Don’t do this…not again.”

A horrid scream escaped from her lips as Coriolanus inserted the syringe. She collapsed almost immediately, her face quickly becoming slick with salty tears.

Coriolanus carelessly lifted her up by the arms and tossed her on the bed. Devoid of any passion or desire, he flipped her onto her stomach and started unlacing the corset of her reception gown.

There was no gentleness in his touch.

There was only possessiveness and pure madness.

Bellova squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the pillow beneath her face becoming damp. The more skin Coriolanus revealed, the more disgusting she felt.

As much as she wanted to kick, scream, cry, anything to get away from him, she knew it was useless. The serum was already consuming her, swallowing her true self whole.

By the time he finally got her dress off, she was completely gone.

Coriolanus sucked in a breath, his fingertips ghosting over his bride’s bare thigh. She was already asleep, her body exhausted from everything that had happened throughout the day.

In their later Academy days, Coriolanus had briefly wondered about what Bellova was like in bed. There were quite a lot of rumors that circled around her regarding her sex life, but he knew most of them were fictitious. However, he knew she was no virgin. Bellova had admitted that at her seventeenth birthday party.

However, technically, he had been virgin. He didn’t count what had happened in the alley behind the train station years ago.

Coriolanus stared up at the ceiling, replaying the lustful activities he’d just partaken in in his mind.

It had felt…nice, he supposed. Bellova was pliant and sweet while he was on top of her, thanks to the serum. She had constantly begged for more, and initiated several kisses. He found the pleading quite annoying, and elected to ignore it. Still, she seemed to enjoy herself. He did as well, but found the power he could exert much more thrilling than any physical pleasure.

Coriolanus pulled Bellova’s sleeping form closer to him. He shuddered at the contact of her bare body pressed against his. She stirred slightly, but didn’t wake. She sighed contentedly, and fell limp again.

Coriolanus smiled.

He would ensure that this was part of their nightly routine.

And if Bellova didn’t like it?

Too fucking bad.

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊❆ ‧

TAGLIST: @daenerysqueenofhearts, @squidscottjeans, @euphemiaamillais, @gracieroxzy, @effectwalker, @vxnilla-hxrddrugs, @mystargirl-interlude

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think in the comments! This chapter was truly heartbreaking to write. The next chapters won’t be this depressing, I promise. The next chapter will skip ahead to when Coriolanus is an office Gamemaker.

Also, let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! (I had to add some of y’all to a comment instead becuz tumblr won’t let me tag more people for some reason☹️)

#coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #coriolanus snow x oc #the hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #original character #thg prequel #dark!coriolanus snow #suzanne collins

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kindaasrikal · 3 days

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So, Kai and Morro. Their similarities are the same amount to their differences.

Before in my Nya and Morro one i said how Kai (and Lloyd) are two of the most different to Morro. I still think that, but i also think they have their similarities.

The biggest similarity between Kai and Morro is how like minded they are when it comes to goals. They both gain one and fulfil it to the end, similarly to Nya. They would do anything to make sure their goal is achieved because not only would it benefit them but it would also benefit others. Impress others. Protect others.

This is driven by their passion as ninja and their need to become better. Their passion is what fuels them to keep going, to stay motivated in what they believe in or wish to achieve. Kai is shown as one of the most passionate people on the show, and Morro is shown to be just as passionate as him, and both their passion ends up not only fuelling them to achieve their goals, but also in their own anger and temper.

Their anger and outbursts tend to be fuelled by the passion backing them up in their opinions and beliefs, and they desperately need to get their points across and do that through their temper as its the easiest method (not the most effective tho). Both Kai and Morro are two individuals who at first had large egos, finding themselves and only the the ones most close to them as important (barely for Morro, the only person he cared for was Wu, who didn’t need any sort of protection or help). However, its shown for both of them that their egos were fragile things, quickly crumbling to bits as their prides took over. Their pride is what makes them so similar, their need to succeed and achieve better for whatever reason, whether it’s to be as strong as possible or whether to finally be important.

But then things tend to differ.

Both Morro and Kai were orphans, dirt poor and unable to gain knowledge like how others their age do. Neither have a home, and neither had parents there to support them until later in life. But Kai had one thing that Morro didn’t, one person that created Kai’s whole purpose and need as a ninja. Someone to protect, some who was under his responsibility, someone like Nya.

Because Kai had Nya, he understood the need to protect and raise others up from the ground, he understood struggles of others and understood that he had to help others. Because of Nya, Kai gained his biggest qualities that developed with the ninja. His sympathy, his empathy, and his heart. He wanted to have the power of protecting, so the people he cared for didn’t need to worry anymore (so they wouldn’t leave him anymore).

Morro didn’t have that, he didn’t have somebody he needed to protect and have responsibility over. He only had himself, and it essentially turned his thought process into (undertale reference) “Kill or be killed” kinda situation. He had never relied on anyone, never needed anyone, and never had anyone need him.

Kai had a purpose, and it was to protect. Morro didn’t have a purpose, so he had a goal to motivate him.

People don’t tend to realise that the most smallest of situations, or words, or actions, can leave so much of an effect on a person. Especially a child.

Their situations were so similar, yet so insignificantly different that no one tends to notice how it drastically changed them as people.

I feel like theres more to add to this, and that i haven’t said my point correctly, but i have school in the morning and i need to sleet so enoughs enough. ALSO: im not comparing their situations as two orphans in a “who had it worse?” Kinda way, both their situations happen irl and shouldn’t be compared in such a way when they each have their own struggles. It was only to analyse how it affected them and the such, please take care of any child you see people they have it rough now a days 😭

#lego ninjago #morro ninjago #lego emo #ninjago morro #morro wu #ninjago #kai ninjago #ninjago kai #kai smith #ninjago nya #nya ninjago #nya smith #kai headcanons #morro headcanons

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dipolardruid · 2 days

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⚠️ TW WARNING⚠️

Yandere, toxic relationship, kidnapping, attempted break up on readers part.

"What...? No, I wasn't trying to, you know I wouldn't do anything like that!" Tina says with a desperate tone as she closes in on you.

You take a step back to create distance, which causes her to look at you with an unreadable expression "yet you knowingly do it, I've told you repeatedly to stop doing things because they make me uncomfortable, Even after that you still do them." At this she seems to look away a couple of times before making eye contact with you.

"I swear it's never on purpose!" Before you're able to respond or do anything, she continues on."I promise I really mean it! It won't happen starting today!" She says in a pleading tone as she lightly scratches and squeezes her fingers.

"You're right it won't happen starting today because I want nothing to do with you." You quickly turn away before Tina can respond to your words. However, you don't get far before you're grabbed by the back of your shirt "Wait stop w-where are you going?"

Pulling away from Tina, she tries to grab you again, which only causes you to become more aggressive in keeping her hands away, which results in Tina becoming more desperate to hold onto you "please don't go! I promise! I promise I'll stop!" The struggle is enough to cause you to trip over your feet, causing both of you to almost fall.

"Will you stop already! Just leave me alone!" At your raised voice, Tina flinches back, her eyes squinted, fist raised to her chest in a self soothing manner, but it seems to have stopped her from trying to grab you again.

At this, you walk away from her and out of her room, looking back every so often to make sure she isn't behind you. While walking towards the front door, you see both Petra and Jake walking towards you. Upon seeing your upset face, Jake puts up his hand to stop you.

"What's wrong?" He tries to make eye contact with you, but you avoid his gaze looking over at the floor."Go ask Tina." You tell him before walking past him and Petra they both take a quick look at each other before Jake speaks up. "I'll go check on Tina. " Petra nods before following behind you.

That day ended with Petra taking you home and Tina's nonstop calling and texting until you had to block her number.

Despite this, the others sat around you during school hours. Petra or Jake may talk to you, but it's mainly Paul who tries to get you to speak to Tina again.

"Come on, you guys had an argument that's all there is to it. What's the big deal?" He says he says wrapping his arm around your shoulder. However, upon trying to move out of his grip, he tightens his forearm around your collarbone, keeping you in place "ok how about this you just come over you don't have to make small talk with her or anything but just be around like before" you look at him to reject but before you can he speaks up "please..." he says pleadingly.

You don't know why you accepted, you never should've, it would've been better to just take the guilt and walk away from him, to ask for help if he refused to let you go yet you didn't.

Now, here you were watching your face plastered on the screen as your parents beg for your safe return, promising all that they have and more. At this, everything begins to blur as a sob escapes your throat.

"Why...?" Is all that you could muster before the tightness in your throat becomes too much for you to continue talking.

Tina sits beside you, stroking your back. "You tried to leave, I would've handled this better if you listened to everyone else about just coming back, but you wanted to be stubborn about it"

You wanted nothing more than to smack her away and yell, but you knew the consequences of that. You lost count of all the things she's done to you after some time. Things were bearable if you simply let it happen instead of constantly fighting back.

"It's ok...it's ok, come here, no more crying. I don't like it when you cry." Tina says, pulling you closer to herself, your head on her chest.

"They're still looking for me....you can't keep me here forever, tina." You say between breaths as you try to catch your breath. "Really? I would say otherwise, the news has stopped talking about you, your disappearance came and went as everything else does, your parents... let's say they aren't a worry." Tina strokes your head as she says this.

At this you feel you feel your body stiffen and your breath catch in your throat.

As you're about to question her, Tina runs her thumb over your lips before speaking, "That's enough for today. It's late, so let's get you ready for bed." At this, you go to speak up only to be met with Tina's side glance, causing you to keep your mouth shut.

You hate it. You hate the way you fear her. The way your body tenses up as she tucks you into bed and smooths the blanket around you, yet you can't help but let it happen even if you did fight back, you're just a human. Physically, you could stand a chance. However, if she decided to use her power, you'd be on the floor clutching your ears in pain, not only that it'd alert everyone in the house along with the others.

So as much as you want to shove past her as she walks out that door, all you can do is lay in this bed watching her back as she walks out able to do whatever she wants, whenever she wants.

"One more thing." This causes you to look over at her " I love you, Goodnight"

You don't want to say it but you have to yet everytime you do it feels as if you're about to vomit. "Y/N" This causes you to flinch your head back as she says your name with a warning edge to it.

"I-I love you too..."

Request are open!

#yandere #yandere oc #my oc character #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #female yandere x reader #yandere mutants #female yandere #yandere female oc #Tina

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isa-ghost · 3 days

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I see you have hcs, do you have any for mr fitmc?

Yes!!

Here's some ones of his relationship with Phil past and present too bc I don't think I have Fit standalone ones until now.

Obviously these will apply to AMFMN Fit too!

Fit is extremely observant and perceptive. Years of roaming a wasteland, spending every minute of every day documenting, chronicling, exploring and witnessing so much really sharpens those kinds of skills. Not much gets past Fit unless he simply wasn't there or doesn't know. All it takes is an inkling and he'll start connecting dots and making theories.

It's why he Hates the Federation. Not only is he an anarchist, he hates the way they make it so easy to keep him in the dark. It's why he weaseled into it in the first position he could get. Being a janitor sucks, but it's something. Anything to get a foundation for making next moves.

He struggles with trust though. He trusts people, but very few if any does he trust whole-heartedly. Pac & Phil are likely the only ones he trusts that much. And even then, he doesn't confide in anyone nearly as deeply as he does Ramon. Spending so much of his life in 2B2T has taught him to reserve trust for people who prove without a doubt that they're ride or die with you. He wishes he didn't find it so difficult to trust more people though.

Okay complete 180 in vibes here but I'm very passionate about this one: Fit has a giant warhammer that's his weapon of choice. Chainsaw, scythe, potato cannon, whatever other stuff he's got is good. But big fucking hammer. With those muscles? Oughoughouhgh.

By the way he never in his life had experienced people simping for his muscles or flirting with him prior to being on QI. It was whiplash and it's changed him for the worst /pos

On the surface it seems like Fit is pretty cold or at least disinterested in stuff that leans on the vulnerable side. It's not entirely wrong, he's spent so long in a place where vulnerability gets your base blown to smithereens or gets you robbed blind or both. But he Does enjoy such things. I mean, just look at the Fitpac date! And hugs? Hugs rock! He'd be so much worse off if he didn't let loose or let himself lower his guard every now and then. It takes a lot of energy to keep those walls up, it'd be unhealthy to never let them down. Especially in a place like Quesadilla Island, where it seems like it's a bit safer to do so. Honestly, he's the opposite of disinterested in letting walls down. He wants that more than anything, and it took being put on QI, becoming a dad, and falling in love for him to realize it.

Which makes keeping up this facade really hard. Not just the whole "snooping for data" thing, just Everything Fit has built himself to be over the years altogether. He doesn't want to keep holding people at arm's length and looking over his shoulder all the time anymore. It's exhausting.

That's not to say he wouldn't relapse right back to how he was before QI softened him up, though. Again, those trust issues. Purgatory really fucked with his head for a while. And plenty of things that happened after, like the whole Phil Ender King thing, really didn't help either. What he's going through is a form of healing, and healing isn't linear.

He isn't afraid to get his hands dirty. Be it with dirt, blood, or otherwise. His motto is you gotta do what you gotta do. He's a very means to an end kinda guy. And despite wishing he could shed being so hardened by the 2B2T Wastelands, he does value that it's given him this kind of strength. It takes a lot to be willing to do whatever it takes to get what you want.

The reason Fit loves fofoca is not only because he enjoys indulging his inner drama whore. He's spent most of his life roaming a place where secrets were as good if not better of a trade than actual currency. When he first arrived on QI, he wasn't entirely sure how to just. Casually socialize. There's little to no risk in it. It was incredibly foreign to him. But it turns out that gossip is like trading secrets in a different font. He's good at that. So collecting and spreading fofoca is how he taught himself to appear kind of "normal" to the other islanders.

Most if not all of the above is also evidence to support the fact that Fit in general is a very adaptive person. You can put him in any environment, as soon as he gets the gist of the status quo and what kind of stakes he's dealing with here, he'll manage no problem. Chances are he's experienced worse. Purgatory and the prison are 2 good examples.

Calling back to the wanting to be vulnerable + confiding in Ramon the most things, GOD is he grateful he got such a brilliant son. Ramon learned a lot from him, but even so, he already had many of the same traits Fit does. It did wonders for bonding, and it's part of what made trusting Ramon come so easy. He's glad he got a son that's so understanding of the way he operates.

The only thing stopping him from taking a page from Cellbit and just starting to kill Feds for information or other reasons is because he knows he'll get more out of playing the long con and letting himself be strung along. Infiltration goes further than outright brutality in his eyes. Brutality is saved for something you no longer need anything from.

Btw his stealth skills are fucking insane. In 2B2T your detection is life or death, and it'll only end in your favor if you can talk sweet enough or have something worth bargaining with. He often did one or the other, but even so, a historian like him typically lacked anything of much value to most bandits and the like. He was simply charismatic and lucky. Which means staying hidden, laying low, and moving with more calculation than a math class is more beneficial to him. And boy has it come in handy on the island too.

In his time on QI, once The Horrors all started, he's learned he really likes having intense intellectual talks with other islanders. Strategizing, theorizing. It feels like the survival he's so used to but with less imminent threats on his life. Bagi especially is an absolute delight to get into these kinds of talks with. It feels like casual socializing and the kind of talking he's used to at the same time. Very much his jam.

#qsmp #qsmp fit #qsmp fitmc #q!fit #q!fitmc #fitmc #qsmp headcanons #AMFMN things

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babyisa1 · 20 hours

Text

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ jealousy/TOM

warnings: smut, blowjob, p in v, singular mention of „slut“, unprotected sex, overall a little rough but fluffy ending!

„im going to get a drink, do you want one?“ you ask, the both of you sitting on the corner couch in a club downtown. „no thanks baby“ tom replies, sending you a soft smile as you get up and walk towards the bar. the place was pretty crowded, and the beat of the music vibrated off of the walls as the colourful flashing lights illuminated off of your figure.

you sat on a bar stool after ordering your favorite cocktail, sex on the beach, when you feel someone tap on your shoulder. „hey y/n, god i havent seen you in years!“ a familiar voice exclaims, as they sit on the stool beside you. your face lights up when you see ethan, an old school friend. „ethan?? what are you doing here!“ you reply, pulling him into a warm hug.

time passes, and the two of you have been catching up for about 20 minutes, completely unaware of tom eyes piercing through both of you from the other side of the club. his jaw clenched and the sunglasses in his hand almost snapped at the sight of you and how close you were with the stranger, trying his best to keep calm. any sense of control he had completely dissapears when he catches the man whispering things in your ear while placing his hand on yours, making you giggle.

he storms towards you both, pure rage flowing through him. „who the fuck is this?“ he exclaims, making you jump. „fucking hell tom you scared me“ you remark, taking another sip of your drink. „answer my question!“ tom almost shouts, becoming impatient. „calm down! this is ethan, just an old school friend. we were just catching up“ you reply, a concerned look on your face.

tom sighs out, still not satisfied. he grabs your hand, pulling you towards him. „cmon lets go“ he mumbles, attempting to take you with him as he walks away. to his dismay, you pull back, not wanting to leave. „we only just got here tom! whats gotten into you?“ you respond, trying to escape from his strong grip which just tightens. „i said lets go“ he demands, sending you a look that told you that you werent going to be able to walk for a good couple of days.

you sigh out, grabbing your purse as you wave goodbye to ethan, who has a „good luck with him“ expression on his face. tom drags you through the crowd of people, out of the busy club and onto the path outside, the cold night air hitting you both.

wasting no time, he rushes over to his cadillac, rummaging in his pockets for the keys. „get in“ he mutters coldly, as you open the passenger seat door and sit down, closing it behind you. tom slams his door shut, making the whole car shake. you didnt dare to say anything in an attempt to not worsen the situation. he let out a frustrated sigh as he started the car, turning out of the parking spot.

tom speeds down the highway, driving 20mph over the speed limit. he wasnt stupid though, he took a route that he knew didnt have any speed cameras. „tom, slow down! do you want to get us fucking kille-” „shut up, we will talk when we get home“ he cuts you off, his hand tightening on the gear stick as he pushes it forward.

about 10 minutes later, he pulls into the driveway, silence filling the car as he turns off the motor. he gets out, walking over to your side and opening your door. you take his arm as you both walk towards the front door, opening it.

he swiftly pulls you into his embrace, pushing you against the door which slams in shut in the process. he crashes his lips on to yours, darting his tounge into your mouth and lapping his wetness around yours. „mm..you shouldnt have flirted with that fucker“ he muffles in between kisses, his hand snaking behind your neck to deepen it. you kiss him back, struggling to keep up with the fast and rough pace of it.

he breaks the kiss, catching his breath as he bends down and picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder. he slaps your ass harshly as he walks over to the couch, causing you to hiss in pain. „you obviously haven’t learnt your lesson from last time liebe“ tom mutters, before letting go of you on the couch as you bounce slightly from the drop.

you gaze up at him with doe eyes, faking your innocence when tom knows you are anything but that. „msorry.. he was just a friend i promise baby“ you reassure tom, however he doesnt seem convinced. he grabs your chin, squishing your cheeks slightly but not enough to hurt you.

„no other guy gets to talk to you like that, get it?“ he snaps, letting go of your face. you glup, nodding as his hands reach for his belt. „youre gonna be a good girl and let me use that pretty mouth of yours?“ he taunts, his belt already clanking as it hits the floor along with his jeans. „yes tommy“ you respond obediantly, nodding eagerly as his clothed cock just centimetres away from your face.

he swiftly pulls down his boxers, as his cock springs free and slightly hits his abdomen. god, he was massive. his tip was red and nerdy, pre cum leaking out of it. the enticing smell of his sex lingered in the air, increasing the growing heat between your legs. he groans in satisfaction following the release of his cock, gazing down at you to see it covered the whole length of your face.

he pumped his dick a few times, his hand sneaking behind your head as he pushes your closer. he rubs his tip against your pink lips, smearing the pre cum over them. „open“ he demands, as you quickly oblige, wrapping your soft lips around the crown of his cock. you swirl your tounge around it, causing tom to let out a low grown, before flattening your tounge on his shaft and sinking your head down it. you hollow your cheeks, gagging slightly as his tip nudges the back of your throat.

„fuckk.. such a pretty slut, taking me so well..“ tom mewls, his head lolling back as your warm mouth engulfs him. you moan at his praises, bobbing your head up and down slowly. he grips your hair, forming two messy pigtails as he uses them to guide you. he forces himself into your mouth faster, forming a rough pace as a mixture of your saliva and his pre cum escaping and dripping down the corners of your lips.

you place both of your hands on toms thighs, bracing yourself with each harsh thrust. your eyes pricked with salty tears as you felt the oxygen quickly slip away, smudging your mascara. „mm fuck- m‘close!“ he moans, his thrusting becoming sloppy. you help him chase his orgasm through massaging the underside of his dick with your tounge, causing loud squelching noises.

tom lets out a prolonged groan, holding your head in place as he coats your throat white in his hot cum. he pulls his cock out of your mouth, causing you to gasp for air. „shit- you okay baby?“ he breaths out, chuckling. you nod, smirking playfully as your eyes glint in lust.

his loving expression soon turns back to a merciless one, his tounge sneaking out to play with his lipring. he picks you up effortlessly, walking you over to the back of the couch before putting you back down and bending you over. with your ass rubbing against his cock, he hurriedly lifts your dress over your head before quickly unclipping your bra with ease. your tits fall free, and his hands fly to play with your nipples. you gasp, and he uses this as an opportunity to turn your head towards his and slip his tounge in your mouth. your back was flush against his chest as he rolled and pinched your nipples, leaving you a whimpering mess.

you were squirming in his hands, your panties probably soaked by now. you grind yourself against his cock out of impatience, before feeling a strong stinging on your right ass cheek. tom slapped your behind harshly, an annoyed expression on his face. „dont be s’fucking needy, this is a punishment for your behaviour earlier remember?“ tom hisses, his hot breath on your ear spreading goosebumps all over you.

you let out a sigh of relief as tom yanks your panties down, revealing your dripping cunt, his mouth watering at the sight. he rubs his cock between your warm folds, gliding effortlessly before nudging your sensitive clit with his tip. „mm..“ you moan, finally feeling some type of friction.

without warning, tom slams his length into you, a buldge forming in your stomach. „jesu- fuck!“ you almost shout, almost falling forward as tom quickly gathers your hair in a makeshift ponytail and pulls you back towards him. „god- so fucking tight“ tom breaths out, forming a rough pace.

your ass jiggles with each thrust, as toms cock deliciously rams against that gummy spot inside you. tom yanks your hair to the side to gain more access to to your neck, before planting sloppy open mouthed kisses up and down it. „only i can fuck you this good.. shit- isnt that right?“ he growls, drilling himself into you.

you can do nothing but nod, the intense pleasure preventing you from forming proper words. both of your bodies were coated in a thin sheen of sweat as he fucked you relentlessly, one of his hands gripping on your hip so tightly it would for sure leave marks.

„you“ thrust „are“ thrust „mine“ thrust tom breaths out between each harsh snap of his hips, making his possessivness very clear. your moans mirror each slam of his cock, your hair becoming messy and sticking to your face from the sweat.

„mhmm.. fuck- tom!“ you reply, struggling to form words as the tip of his length keeps abusing your favorite spot. his hands graze over your skin from your hips and spread your ass, pushing himself deeper in you. you clench around him in response, earning a loud groan from him.

„fuck baby- do that again“ tom mewls, the sudden tightness clearly having an effect on him. you somehow find the energy to repeat what you did, causing his pace to become inconsistent and sloppy. you grip tightly on the leather couch, feeling your high approach.

„shit m‘gonna cum!“ you manage to blur out, the pleasure slowly building up by the second. tom angles his hips upwards, hitting your g spot juusstt right. „cmon baby.. cum all over my cock“ he groans and he finally sees white, his orgasm washing over him as he shoots ropes of his hot cum into you.

you let out a high pitched moan, sounding almost pornographic as your orgasm hits you like a truck, falling forwards as your knees buckle. tom exhales sharply through his teeth, his movements coming to a halt. „shittt“ he breaths out, watching his cum spill out of your cunt as he slips out, a ring of cum appearing on his cock.

you both chuckle as you gain your breath again, relishing the pleasure. tom walks a few steps to the open kitchen, grabbing a paper towel before coming back and wiping you. you whimper slightly, feeling slightly overstimulated. „sorry baby“ he giggles, turning you around and pulling you into a gentle hug.

he rubs up and down your sides lovingly, pressing soft kisses in your hair. moments later he pulls away, stroking you hair out of your face and gazing into your droopy eyes and fucked out face. „you okay? did i go to rough?“ he asks while planting a warm kiss on your nose.

„not at all.. i have to talk to other guys more often if it means you’ll fuck me this good“ you whisper, smiling brightly. he chuckles, taking your hand and leading you upstairs.

„cmon, lets get cleaned up sweetheart“

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

i realised i kinda use clubs as a setting pretty often ;-; i will lit marry u if u like or reblog, this is only my 5th post i think :)

#tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz #2000s #georg listing #gustav schäfer #smut #tom kaulitz smut #fanfiction

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