#you know those child leashes. i feel like i need one of those

[madaqueue]

TEAR MY FLESH, HOLD MY HAND, FEEL MY WARMTH

the weight that lies in a pinky promise

pairing: suguru geto x gn!reader

themes/content: curse/canon au. fluff, angst. mentions of fights/difficult childhood. (wk: 3.2k)

a/n: this was originally gonna be for flufftober but it got a lil angsty teehee so here we are :) also the mouse on my computer stopped working so i did all this formatting on my phone bc i'm that dedicated to serving you guys this fic

Suguru was a soft child. Chubby hands, round cheeks, gentle steps.

He was sweet in all the ways a child ought to be, at least according to your parents - sweet in all the ways you weren’t.

You, on the other hand, were loud, jarring, unreserved. “A handful,” you were always described as by those who attempted to care for you. Perhaps that’s why they allowed you such a great extent of freedom, tugging against the length of a leash they tried to place around you, but they’d need stronger chains to tie you down.

And yet, you and Suguru found your similarities - you were both unencumbered by expectations. I am who I am. In spite of everyone, in spite of the ways they tried to dig their tight hands around you and force you into something you weren’t. You are who you are.

The first time you met him, all you saw were tiny feet kicking the air, unable to reach the ground from where he perched upon the park bench. He was the only one not screaming, something you appreciated, something novel. Your life had held such chaos, constant arguments, slamming doors. The peace that wrapped around his small frame seemed to exude a comfort you craved, even if it couldn’t be articulated by your six-year-old mind, you were drawn to it. To him.

“Hi,” you chirped, lifting yourself next to him.

“Hi.”

When you grinned widely at him, he returned a thin-lipped smile, as though he had been trained by wild dogs who took eagerness as a threat, who wouldn’t dare snarl unless as a warning.

(He noticed your absence of fear immediately - how could you approach him so easily? Had you not been taught to be wary?)

(You had been taught. “Avoid strangers, they’ll hurt you.” But you would never choose the harm of the monsters you knew. Better to take your chances in the wild.)

Averting your gaze, your dirtied fingernails began absentmindedly picking at the green paint coating the wood beneath your legs. Your eyes landed on his knees, scuffed and bloody.

“Did that hurt?”

Without looking at you, he shakes his head. “No, I’m just clumsy. I fell off my bike.”

“That’s okay,” you hum, “I get bruises all the time. You must be pretty tough if it didn’t hurt.”

And this time, he giggles, crooked teeth poking through. “Anyone can get hurt, it doesn’t make me tough.”

Leaves rustle overhead as you let out a thoughtful sigh, allowing the sounds of the breeze to fill the silence. It’s comfortable, you realize, no tension hanging in the air like there always seems to be at home, no threat looming around the other side of the kitchen counter.

You tug with all the strength your muscles can muster at a large strip of paint. With a final pull, your palm catches along the fraying wood, splinters digging under your flesh as you let out a choked cry.

Immediately, the boy’s small hands wrap around your wrist, pulling it to his face. Worried eyes inspect the wound. “Are you okay?” he asks without looking up.

A small whimper falls from your throat, lower lip trembling as you hold back tears. “Y-yeah,” your voice wobbles.

You’re lying. He knows you’re lying - you aren’t particularly hard to read, he grows to learn, somehow always wearing your heart on your sleeve. It’s a trait he admires (perhaps because he’s never quite able to place his there so visibly).

When he frowns, you almost giggle at the sight - no child should frown like that. It’s endearing, the way his eyebrows furrow, mouth tugged downward.

“Can I make it better?”

It takes very little to make you trust him, but you believe he wouldn’t hurt you. Just as animals seem able to sense intent, an implicit knowledge that the human freeing them from a cage won’t inflict additional pain, you know that his stubby fingers won’t dig at your flesh and make you bleed.

So, you nod.

Determined eyes turn from your visibly pained face to your aching palm. Slowly, he removes the shards of wood from your skin. When you wince, he pauses immediately, waiting for your shoulders to relax before he continues. By the time he’s finished, your bottom lip is red from biting into it but the pain isn’t even noticeable, not when every nerve in your body seems focused on the warmth coming from his fingertips still lingering on your wrist.

“There,” he breathes through the softest smile, “all done.”

“Thanks,” and you can’t help but grin back.

“And see!” He’s beaming now. “You were very tough!”

Your laugh is brighter than the sun, more calming than the birds chirping overhead, a sound he can’t help but mirror. His desire to cheer you up, to comfort you through it all, makes your cheeks warm.

“I’m Suguru, by the way.”

He opens up easily to you, an honor you don’t quite understand yet. When you introduce yourself, he repeats your name back slowly, the vowels sweet like the flowers blooming nearby. It sounds good in his voice.

A whistle cuts through the humidity, immediately drawing Suguru’s attention.

“I gotta go,” his face draws into that adorable pout again.

“Oh.” Dropping your attention, it falls to your freshly healed hands resting in your lap. “Can you do me a favor?”

Expectant eyes meet yours.

“Promise me I’ll see you again?”

This time, he smiles so wide his cheeks push up into his eyes, crinkling at the corners. Holding out a hand, he gently grasps yours as he intertwines your fingers.

“Pinky promise,” he grins, linking them together with a shake.

Through a giggle, you mimic, “pinky promise.”

He shuffles off the bench, clumsy feet landing on the ground before he hobbles off to the waiting arms of a parent who seems to love him. Your heart aches for a moment before it stills - you’re happy he has someone to take care of him, to pull the splinters from his hands and clean off the scrapes on his knees.

It’s a miracle when you both get placed at Jujutsu Tech. It takes very little for you to abandon the place you called home, having jumped at the first chance to leave your childhood behind, but having Suguru there makes it even easier when you get approached by a strange man with dark hair and glasses who touts himself as the principal of some elusive school a few hours away. They’ll pay for your housing, your food, anything you need to survive for the next four years so long as you agree to train and work for them. It was an easy yes - you would have done more for less.

And of course, there was your so-called “power.” The two of you had danced around the subject for years, hesitantly testing each other’s experiences to not unload worry onto the other. That was the thing about Suguru - he was always looking out for you, and you, him. He never needed to ask if you were thirsty, he’d just bring you tea; you never had to ask if he was lonely, you’d just find him sitting alone on the same park bench.

It was Suguru who finally broke on his thirteenth birthday while the two of you made your way through town, snowflakes hanging in the air.

“Do you ever…see things?” he asked, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket in a futile search for warmth.

From the corner of your vision, you caught the faintest glimmer of fear in his eyes. And you understood immediately.

“Yes.”

His shoulders visibly relaxed, hot breath puffing into the air. “Thank god,” he murmured.

Again, it wasn’t a surprise, per se - the two of you had shared everything. It only seemed natural that you would share this ability to see curses, the monsters hiding in the shadows.

“Do they ever…scare you?” Your voice felt small as you asked - you hadn’t yet reached relief, or at the very least, neutrality towards these things.

And he sees it in you, too - the dread he felt when he first saw them, the pang of terror that shoots up his spine when he catches one moving in the dark. He’s grown more accustomed to their presence, but there’s still that thread of fear lingering, choking him when he gets tangled in it.

“Yes.”

Cold fingers lace through yours, squeezing your hand reassuringly.

“But I’ll always keep you safe,” he smiles that sweet, soft smile, “pinky promise.”

The training wasn’t easy. You hadn’t expected it to be, obviously, but fuck was it hard.

Suguru excelled initially, as he did with everything. The others in your small class also show great potential, Satoru in particular, but Shoko’s abilities develop in her own way, too.

It’s nice to finally feel like you have a place where you belong, to have people to return to, people who care about you, who love you. It’s nice to be here, even if it pushes you to your limits everyday, because you know you’ll always have someone to come home to - to know you’ll always have Suguru to come home to.

It hits you on a sunny day in October when you’re watching him spar with Satoru. Fists fly, a mix of black and white flashing across the grass. When Gojo lands a particularly well-timed punch, Suguru’s body lands with a thud in the dirt.

You’re on your feet in less than a second, shoving Satoru out of the way as you stand over the dazed boy on the ground. He looks beautiful like this, you think - his hair splayed out around him, blood trickling from his nose, lips tugged into an awestruck smirk - before you shake the thought aside.

“Are you okay?”

Panicked hands run over his torso, checking for injuries before they land on his face. Cupping his jaw, he can’t help but breathe a laugh at the worry painted across your features. His palms come to rest along your wrists, dark eyes meeting yours.

“I’m okay,” he sighs. Now that you’re here. “I’m tough, remember?”

Every muscle in your body releases tension just at hearing his voice, his calming aura once again blanketing you, bringing you under the warmth of his peace.

With a playful punch to his shoulder, he feigns a dramatic wince. “Just don’t get hurt again, okay?”

He knows it’s impossible - it’s the nature of the job, of the responsibilities he holds. He will be hit and bruised and battered and brought to the brink of death again and again, but right now, that’s not what you need to hear. Because you know it’s impossible too; and you also know Suguru is strong.

“I pinky promise,” he halfheartedly grins. He promises to at least try. For you.

Wrapping your finger around his, you let the heat of your bodies fill the air, vibrating in tune with the cicadas lining the trees. His hand is soft in yours. It feels like coming home - the familiar walk up the steps, the paint on the front door cracking from where palms had rubbed against it time and time again as the handle turned. The wooden floors are worn in with the path you take through each other’s lives, from the kitchen to the living room to the windows, gazing over the backyard.

Suguru had a swingset, you remember. You figured out how to use it the first time you ever sat on the sun-worn rubber, going higher and higher and higher until the toes of your shoes scraped the sky. But Suguru always struggled - he couldn’t quite move his body in the right way to grant him flight. He would get frustrated with it rather easily, until your small hands rested against his back. With a firm push, you set him free into the air, his feet kicking perfectly with all the momentum a child’s body could hold.

Maybe gravity was discovered by children on the playground. There had to be a reason they couldn’t swing forever; there had to be a reason they couldn’t reach the sun.

The problem is, though, that a star’s heat dissipates with distance. It can’t always warm you, not when your feet land back on the ground.

Over the next year, Satoru began going on more missions alone, and Shoko stayed behind to hone her healing, leaving you and Suguru in the purgatory between power and nothingness. And most days, you feel closer to nothing.

It’s eating at him, you realize. The missions, the responsibility, the whole fucking thing is taking bites out of his soul with sharpened teeth and leaving nothing behind but a bloodied mess of torn expectations. It makes him smaller and smaller, pulling pieces of him until there’s nothing left.

You can see it in the way his clothes hang loose on his body. His shoulders slump forward, the shadows beneath his eyes growing darker each night he spends with his gaze locked on the ceiling.

The foundation of his soul is crumbling, the front door barricaded closed. The windows are boarded up. You can’t see your childhood anymore. All the grass in the front yard is dead.

You miss when the sun’s rays shone through him.

You miss when he was warm.

Finding him resting on one of the old benches in the school’s courtyard, it creaks beneath your weight as you sit, the only sound breaking the stagnant silence of the summer air. That’s another thing you’ve noticed - sometimes, Suguru is so quiet you aren’t even sure he exists. If you weren’t here watching his chest rise and fall, could you even prove he was breathing?

He says nothing when you rest your head on his shoulder, not that he needs to, of course. He hasn’t said much lately, mostly responding to everyone else’s overflowing conversations with empty smiles and sad eyes.

You aren’t sure how much longer you can take it.

“Suguru?”

His body doesn’t even shift in response to hearing his name, but you feel his eyes on you even though you can’t see them, your gaze instead focused on your hands resting in his lap. Picking at the skin along your nails, you continue.

“Are you okay?”

He’s grateful you can’t hear the way his heartbeat stutters (because then you’d already have the answer to your question).

“Mhm,” he hums, his lips never parting. You miss the way they used to curl into that childlike grin, it’s been so long since you’ve seen it.

You know he’s lying, but unfortunately, you want to believe him. You want to believe him so badly it feels like you’re trapped underground, buried under your love for him, banging on the floorboards overhead, but there’s no one around to hear. There’s dirt in your lungs and you can’t breathe. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

Silently, you hold your hand in front of him, pinky raised in a question.

Would you promise?

On instinct, his own hand lifts from his side. It hovers just inches from yours, but he hesitates. The gap between them grows farther with each second they don’t intertwine, stars pushing one another apart, unable to collide. The steadiness in him wavers for a moment as you watch his fingers shake.

He can’t.

When he collapses into you, everything falls apart. Arms wrap around your frame, hands grabbing fistfuls of your uniform. He clings to you like a lifeline, the only thing keeping him from drowning. Because as a child, no one ever taught him how to swim - maybe they didn’t see the point in learning such a useless skill, or maybe they thought they were protecting him. But now, he’s been thrown into relentless waves of grief and with each breath more briney water fills his chest and he’s gasping and scared and he doesn’t know what to do except hold you. The tears falling from his eyes taste like the sea and they burn his throat, but at least for a moment his legs can stop kicking. For a moment, he has someone who can keep him afloat.

Your palms rub slow circles into his back as he cries. The sound is sharp and painful, carving into the still-beating flesh of your heart, but at least it exists. At least he’s here. At least he’s alive.

Placing your lips to the top of his head, you let them rest there as his body shakes.

“It’ll be okay, I’ve got you,” you whisper into his skin, surrounded by small strands of hair pulled loose and warm from the sun. “I promise.”

As things tend to do, they eventually get easier.

You and Suguru talk to the higher ups about changing his schedule, only going on missions with at least one other sorcerer so he’s not doing all the work by himself. They bargain and ultimately even agree to grant him dedicated days off to rest. And finally, you feel as though you’ve been granted your miracle, the scales of fate begrudgingly tipping in your favor.

(If all your pain meant that Suguru’s would be lessened for even a moment you would do it over again a million times. If all your suffering meant that Suguru wouldn’t have to endure it for a second longer, you would suffer for eternity.)

Even as fall returns and the sun shines through the sky less and less, things feel brighter. The two of you find yourselves in the school’s cafeteria making tea every night, and he learns he sleeps better with you in his arms.

When the four of you gather around a picnic table outside to recap your recent assignments, you tell some stupid joke, one that makes Satoru groan and Shoko roll her eyes through a smirk, and you hear it: Suguru laughs. And for a moment, the world stops spinning.

You all exchange glances before turning to face him, his cheeks pushed up and pink, eyes closed in bliss. You can’t contain yourselves as you join him, fits of giggles lilting through the crisp air.

That night, he welcomes you into bed with open arms waiting beneath the covers. His lips are curved into a grin as he places a gentle kiss to your forehead, a newer part of your routine, one that makes your entire body vibrate.

Snuggling against him, the warmth of his chest radiates into your skin, each beat of his heart a welcome melody.

“Hey Suguru?” you murmur.

His voice is laced with sleep as he answers into the darkness, “Yeah?”

“You’re really strong, y’know that?”

Letting out an airy chuckle, he rolls his eyes. “I’m nothing compared to Satoru-”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

You can hear the air entering his lungs with each breath. He takes in three before he responds. “I know.”

Long fingers trace circles into the bare skin of your arm.

“Suguru?”

You know what you have to tell him - you’ve been holding it for years, keeping it close to you, carrying its weight through each day until you barely notice it anymore. Maybe it’s the change of the seasons, a different density to the air, but suddenly it has begun to feel heavy in your hands.

“Yeah?”

His hands make their way up your neck until they rest along your cheek, guiding your gaze to him through the dark.

Three breaths in, three breaths out.

“I love you.”

You can’t see him smile, but you feel it. The warmth of his palm leaves your face for a moment until you feel it again along your hand. He intertwines his pinky with yours. “I love you, too.”

[strwbmei]

Kinktober : BONUS LEVEL.

summary: in the midst of the crowded costume party; stelle needs you— and she needs you now.

contains: modern!au, college!au, female reader, mentioned alcohol usage, pet play sort of(?), stelle is referred to as a dog and she has a collar, transfem!stelle, stelle is taller, mentions of drugs, semi-public sex, creampie, power bottom reader, choking, unprotected sex, non-consensual creampie, stelle is a bit pathetic

pairing(s): pre-established stelle x reader

a/n: It's a bit late considering this was for Halloween, but this idea has been rotting in my brain for so long...

NSFW below the cut !

"Baby..." Stelle whined, looking down at you with those amber-hued puppy eyes she knew you couldn't possibly refuse. Not for long, at least. "Need you s'bad... Please?" The taller woman clung to your arm, tugging on your sleeve like a child who didn't get the toy they wanted.

After the two of you received an invitation to a quote-unquote, "small Halloween costume party" from a mutual acquaintance, you decided to go as the werewolf and little Red Riding Hood.

It was a great idea— the costumes worked well individually, but if someone saw both of you together, it'd be obvious that the two of you were a couple, though that was mostly because you were literally holding her on a leash that was attached to the collar her costume came with.

What wasn't a great idea, however, was going to the party in the first place. Within not even half an hour, the place reeked with the stench of vomit and cheap alcohol, and the second-rate Halloween decorations that were obviously only added as an afterthought were presumably torn off the walls by drunks.

Also, unlike the person who invited you two had said, the party was not small at all. The place was filled to the brim with couples and stoners; the only reason you two still stayed was because it'd be a waste to not use the costumes you already bought. They weren't really expensive, per se, but both of you were broke college students. You were going to make the most out of the $40 you spent on these costumes.

"Stelle, you can't just-" You inhaled, taking in a deep breath as you halt your words. "We're in public. I'm sorry, baby, but you can wait until we get home, hm?" You took her hands into your own, rubbing soothing circles on the back of her palm. The size difference was almost laughable.

Stelle heaved a dejected sigh, but you knew she hadn't given up quite yet. She was never one to be good with words— but she sure as hell was good at expressing her thoughts with her actions.

Which is probably why you can feel something hard and lengthy rubbing against your thigh as she wraps her arms protectively around your small frame. "Please. I'll make you feel so good, I promise..." She murmurs into your neck.

Well... it's not like you can just leave Stelle with a raging boner, right? Especially when you're what caused it in the first place. Right. You're just doing what any responsible girlfriend would do.

Though, you weren't aware that that included frantically unzipping her pants in god-knows-who's room as music blared from the cheap speakers downstairs.

"Wai- mmph..!" Stelle quickly put a hand over her mouth, stifling a moan as you hurriedly wrapped your lips around her cock. Though muffled, the sounds she made were more than audible.

Her eyes closed in ecstasy, her hands gripping your shoulders with a force that fluctuated between one of considerate eagerness and selfish desperation for her own pleasure— all telltale signs that she was going to cum soon, and you've grown all too familiar with them.

Though Stelle never could last long, the number of rounds she could go for was inhuman. Well, at least her ungodly amount of stamina is one thing about a werewolf that was even remotely similar to her.

As your head bobbed faster and faster in pace, her whimpers and moans grew louder and higher in pitch. With a strangled gasp, ropes of her warm semen flooded down your throat. Your mouth was pressed to her abdomen, swallowing every drop she had to offer.

"H-haah...~" The taller woman looked down at you with further aching need; cock still standing proud with a similar yearning. "Really, babe?" You sighed. A couple getting caught having sex in a party wasn't exactly a rare occurrence, and although normally people wouldn't care, it'd stain your pride.

Just as you were about to start jerking her off, she grabbed your hand by your wrist. "Wanna be inside you. Can I? I've been good..." She frowns; again, looking at you with those eyes.

First, she claimed that she'd make you feel good, only to settle for you sucking her off; second, does she really think she's been good? You wouldn't be in this situation if that were true in the first place. Liar.

However, you reckon you could give her a chance to prove herself...

Next thing you know, you're getting railed on the floor, barely able to keep yourself from falling over as Stelle rutted her hips into you. "W-wait, ah..!" You moaned. You didn't know what made Stelle so uncharacteristically... desperate, as if she were a dog in heat.

Maybe it was your costume? No, it looked good— but certainly not that good. And it wasn't revealing in the least, even the skirt was below knees length. Perhaps she was just too drunk? That's not it, either. Stelle has been drunk many times before and she's never acted like this.

Oh. The collar.

"Goddamit, Stelle...!" You huffed out in a hushed voice with all of the anger you could muster up. Everybody knows you can't ever stay mad at her, no matter what she does. Just like a cute puppy getting caught making a mess, Stelle only whines at your words; one hand over her mouth to muffle her sounds while the other kneaded at your breasts.

You pull her into a sloppy, hot kiss by her collar, the pace and strength of her thrusts unwavering. She whimpers into your mouth, swallowing all of your moans as she practically pounds you into the floor. Her cock was on the thicker side, rubbing perfectly against your walls while her tip kissed your cervix.

"Shit, so... tight...!" Stelle breaks out of your grip with little to no effort, hands needily grabbing and massaging at your tits. You tried to tell her to pull out, but you couldn't get any words out of your mouth through your moans. She mumbled a string of curses and apologies like a sinner begging for forgiveness. "Oh god, I'm gonna cum, gonna cum inside!"

With a choked moan, she held your hips down as you felt her warm cum fill you up. She lets out a sigh of pleasure as she pulls out of you, breathlessly pressing kisses on your inner thighs and apologizing. Though, seeing her cum leak out of you when she pressed down slightly on your stomach has her vigor returning tenfold...

Fuck it. She's cum inside of you already, what's the harm in two, maybe three more times? The night is young, after all.

╰┈➤ taglist ; @roninraccoon , @hedgehog666 , @dukemira , @yelanrambles , @the-night-owl-blr

[dy6nsty]

Can I request sleep token x reader with a reader who is accident prone? Today alone i have slid on ice, smacked my head off a shelf, and stabbed myself with a comb.

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I LOVE THIS PROMPT. YES, YES YOU CAN‼️I also hope you’re doing good after all that..

Sleep Token x GN! reader who has a tendency to get injured

Relationship— Romantic

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Vessel:

Suddenly has eyes in the back of his head. Knows you’re picking something up. “Put it down.”

Leaves you alone for a couple of minutes and comes back to chaos. Chaos in this scenario was you breaking something.

Blueprints things in his head to figure out if there’s anything that could possibly put you out of trouble.

Was considering getting you one of those child leashes so he can keep a better eye on you.

Follows you around sometimes to make sure you don’t injure yourself or break something. Watching you bump into 70% of things you come across.

Puts rubber counter protectors on surfaces with sharp or hard corners, just so you won’t bang into them on accident.

If you can’t walk in a straight line (I can’t do it either don’t worry guys! 😊)— he’ll help you get around. “Left- right! RIGHT!”

His worst enemy is winter and spring. We have icy grounds than slippery grass. But is also your frenemy.

Is now stalked up with bandaids, glue, tape and other necessities he might need for the future with you. Which is probably a lot.

If you come to him with an injury he’ll let out a long sigh before asking what happened. Let’s you ramble on about how you’ve gotten hurt now while he fixes you up.

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II:

Call him the gigglesaurus at this point. Will watch you stumble than fall and start cackling before realizing he’s not supposed to laugh..

Likes the chaos it can bring! But he still gets a mini panic attack when he realizes you’ve disappeared from you once were: beside him.

Learned how to treat wounds, bruises, and stuff because of how often it started happening. Also learned how to fix mirrors!

Wants to know all of the dumb or serious stories you have. He’s all for it.

Likes to keep an arm around your waist to ensure you won’t get into any inconvenience.

Tries to help you with tasks you might accidentally fuck up. Reaching for things, organizing glasses, cleaning, or even will escort you around areas so you don’t trip over your own feet!

Counts up how many bruises or any marks you have at the end of the day. If he notices a new one he’ll ask what happened. If it happened in a dumb way he just stifles a laugh.

Watches you from afar sometimes to make sure nothings happen so far. If he does see you get hurt he’ll rush over to see what’s happened, again.

Feels like he’s on a news channel at this point. Honestly wonders if you have some sort of curse to how often he’s found you in these exact scenes.

Does not trust you holding glass, plastic, porcelain, or metal objects. He’ll hold them with you but he’s not wanting you to break any of those by falling over, or maybe even dropping them on yourself.

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III:

Stays serious about it but once saw you run into a door and almost lost his shit. Wanted to laugh so hard.

Keeps bandaids, a small thing of bandage wrap + tape, and tissue in his pockets. It’s become a habit.

Carries you around areas that have many things cluttered on the ground so nothing will end up broken.

Trusts you enough to look away and not keep an eye on you 24/7 but still has a physical reflex whenever he hears a crash, bang, or a small sound of something colliding.

Often times will try to fix any messed you might’ve caused. Hiding any evidence that something had happened.

Kisses any minor injuries you get. “It hurts? Want me to kiss it so it feels better?”

Deals with your injuries or things you might’ve smashed, asks how it was caused so he can prevent them from happening further on.

Moves things around if he’s noticed it’s a common occurrence for you to bump into it with the object in the room / it’s placement.

Will take over / help you with certain scenarios if it becomes a problem to where you always end up hurt afterwards.

Warms you about things he sees coming your way: “Wall, you’re gonna walk into it.”, “There’s a plate of glasses, don’t walk into it.”

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IV:

Feels like superman sometimes when it comes to you. Steadies things in your hand if he notices you’re unbalanced.

Will also laugh at you. Unless you’re bleeding. He’ll run over to make sure everything’s all right.

Stocks up on ice packs and replaceable items for ones you might knock over later on.

Makes sure you won’t knock into anyone while your walking, or into anything.

Starts following you around when he can to make sure that you’re not getting into any trouble.

Also an enemy with winter. Especially if you want to try any winter sports. You can try but he might mentally face palm if you get ran over by a kid in a sled.

Starts requesting for plastic cups instead of glass. He can’t risk fancy glasses being broken any longer.

He gets into trouble in his own way, but he swears he’s more safe than you.

Picks you up and carrie’s you away when he senses that something just might happen. Spidey senses over here!!!

He can’t walk in a straight line so your both screwed. Your bumping into each other like you have sea legs.

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i’m sorry if this turned out a little bad! i’m currently on the verge of sleep but rlly wanted to finish this! ^^

[truly-sincerely]

IS GORTASH ENTHRALLED?

(tl;dr: yes)

In this essay I will…

Okay, but seriously I did write an essay.

I got here after chasing a very different rabbit down its hole. I'd noticed that Gortash seems to have been throwing out a lot of his stuff (read: mostly employees).

Waldemar Prinski, a loyal banite, sold to a devil for a corn chip

Dark Breaker Antiope, sahuagin wrangler, A Negotiation

The Steel Watch Foundry, Orders to Black Gauntlet Rives

Scribe Yanthus, my beloved, sent on a wild bhaal chase

Vance Farnol, journalist, tho you could argue he had it coming

Goblin Worg handler at Flymm Cargo, plus the Worgs when they run out of Goblin to eat

And, of course, everyone at his Coronation

Was killing all of the patriars and their staff a grim necessity, Enver? Was it?

(Also, he's installed a giant portrait of Bane and a bust of Bane in the penthouse, but he doesn't have a single picture of himself, or any mirrors, for that matter. Food for thought.)

My initial diagnosis was macabre, but obviously I’ve moved away from that line of thinking. He's just way too happy to brag about how much danger he's put himself, us, and the entire world in. It freaked me out the first time I met him (as a Tav). Like I see him glancing at the ground and smiling coyly while saying, "If we're lucky, we'll become slaves," on the back of my eyelids when I go to bed at night.

For the love of all that is holy, could you please turn it down a notch?

I've been obsessed with The Ultimate State since I first read it. It's absolutely absurd nonsense. The item description says it's, "the philosophical ramblings of Enver Gortash." and I feel like it's worth noting that he doesn't write his own propaganda; he has the banites do it for him. But I mean, it really does read like he's twisting himself in knots to connect "unity" and "progress" together, but babe, those jigsaw pieces do not go together like that. Anyway, while thinking about this subject it dawned on me:

They're the same picture.

You know what other line of thinking these two have in common?

They both look so sad when they say this. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I abandoned you.

I know we all love to joke about Durge or Gortash feeding the Brain the "Handsome, Younger Man" line, but what if that was just a smokescreen and it's been the other way around this whole time?

Netherbrain: You think you know why you are here. You think you can atone for giving me my power, child of Bhaal, by destroying me with the Netherstones. You are wrong. The Emperor: It’s messing with your mind. Don’t listen to it. Use the stones. Netherbrain: By eliminating Ketheric and Orin, you have simply unbound me. Exactly as I intended. The Crown is now mine to command - mine alone. The Emperor: Don’t listen to it! Focus on the Crown! Netherbrain: You placed the Crown upon me in the depths of Moonrise Towers, and there I was born. The Crown is not my weakness - it is what made me what I am. Gortash: You are delusional - the Crown is how we controlled you! Netherbrain: I respected Bhaal’s child once, but not you, Gortash. I allowed you to control me as long as it suited my purposes. You have played your part. The next order to be given is mine and it is this - die. Gortash: (crumples like a piece of parchment) Netherbrain: When the parasite entered your ruined mind - you became a pawn in my design. Who do you think told the Chosen about the Astral Prism? Who do you think planted the knowledge of Orpheus’ power, and the fear of what it could do? When the Chosen sent my thralls to retrieve the Prism - who do you think let the ‘Emperor’ slip its leash, knowing it would be the one to bring you to me? The Emperor: We were part of its plan… Netherbrain: I only needed one Netherstone loosened from the Chosen’s grasp to guarantee my freedom. You brought all three back to me. In doing so, you have liberated me. This was your role - and it is complete. Now you will witness the Grand Design.

The face of a man who has 20 INT and 16 WIS and is definitely not the brainwashed pawn of a giant brain that's been manipulating him in his sleep.

You think his puny +7 WIS save is gonna beat the Netherbrain when it's been working on his ass every time he goes to sleep for the last nine months? I say thee nay.

Also, and this is probably oversharing, but my dad, who I used to think of as a really smart guy is now a huge Trump supporter. He's an atheist but he'll parrot conservative christian talking points that I've seen clipped from Nazi talking heads. The words that come out of his mouth and the way he smiles when he says completely insane things is haunting.

What all of this means at the end of the day isn't much in the grand scheme of things, but it's kind of sad, and it definitely says something about his characterization. This man is floundering in a soup of his own making. A tragic puppet. A poor little meow meow.

There's an interesting line of demarcation between the various writings that he dictated to Scribe Yanthus, the things he wrote himself, and the things he says to us in the game.

Elder Brain Domination (from Ketheric, but about Gortash)

Suspended Ceremorphosis

The Grand Design

Studies of the Elder Brains

Accelerated Grand Design

Memoir Notes With Recent Addenda

Journal of Enver Gortash

He's so much more motivated and insightful early on, epitomized in Ketheric's entry, "Gortash fears that, energised by the dark energies of the Crown, the brain we now call the Absolute will eventually metamorphose into something new and more difficult to control." And he was right! But that guy's nowhere to be found by the time we meet him.

This one makes me particularly sad, "No weakness but the unexpected. It seems I shall need unexpected allies," because, again, he's right, and we could've saved him if the game had given us the opportunity to say, "No, there is another way. Let's not walk into this obvious trap." He wrote us a roadmap; left a trail of breadcrumbs; and we weren't given the option to follow them.

But I guess that's what fixfics are for.

THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TAVtalk!

[livelaughlovesubs]

Do you write about michael from whb? If its fine with you, can you write a hc what his going to be as a yandere? Reader could be anything but i prefer if they our normal mc ^^

Oh, alright, so yandere Michael with ra-on as reader? Sure then, I’ll gladly oblige! Sorry that you had to wait so long, but now that the new event came out, I have a pretty good idea how I want to portray him.

Yandere Michael

Warning: dark content, disturbing topics, blood, gore, obsessive behaviour

I headcanon him, like many other angels, to be a total psycho when in love. That’s pretty much canon. The question is just, how crazy would he be?

- he’d never blame you for all your deeds, it’s always the fault of another

- in other words he is doing everything he can to delude himself into thinking this is alright, it’s not against the rules he set for himself

- god wanted him to love you, it was destined to happen

- “you were just so bright, and there was no way to explain it, it must be gods will”

- that’s what he’d say to himself among other things

- if it wasn’t clear enough, he’d kill for you, even his own brothers, except lucifer

- he’d go down to hell and declare war on your favourite king/ noble, his excuse? They were taking you away from him

- you could stop that though, by finally putting him on a leash

- no matter what you did to him, he’d still love you unconditionally, his love would never falter like his faith

- you could do the most unspeakable things to him, treat him as if he was a mere toy, as if he was nothing more than a pretty face

- and he’d thank you for your attention, greeting you with a smile brighter than his halo

- ruin him, mind and body, bruise him or break his leg, he doesn’t care, as long as you keep touching him and give him your full attention

- honestly, you could make him into a devil and he wouldn’t care, rip his wings off and make the blessing of god leave him

- it would make him have an internal crisis, since he isn’t supposed to be like this, but he’d put the blame on someone else

- this man is so prideful a no narcissistic, he only cares about his own feelings, god, lucifer, and now you too

- which is why he doesn’t care about anything else, as long as he gets to feel good and ‘loved’ (even though you are brutalising him) he’s content

- the worst type of of yandere, would totally kidnap you, even if the punishment is amputation

- he is one hell of a nuisance, there is literally no other way to deal with him than locking him up

- otherwise he’ll just keep attacking hell, or kidnap you, or kill other species, no matter how you reprimand him. He got away with it for eons, what makes you think you can change him?

- it’s not like he loves you anyway, he only loves you because you are a replacement for god and his dear brother, only because you are as kind and as forgiving as they used to be

- oh you naive child

- if you don’t lock him up and keep him away, he’ll eventually annihilate the devils, unless luci steps in that is

- but he’ll definitely kidnap you, hats so obvious! He’ll want to keep you all to himself, he’d even make alternations to your body to keep you from leaving

- he has trust issues, remember? All because of god and his lovely older brother

- words alone aren’t enough, he needs to know you can’t leave him, like you mentally and physically can’t

- if you don’t want that, there are two other ways, and that is using what he’d do to you against him

- like if you do restrain him.. keeping him chained like what he did to you, making him be alone for months without knowing when you’ll come back (that’s still the nice way to threat him, trust me)

- then he will finally stop causing harm! Though the second you get him out of the restains, he’ll clench onto you, hold you, tell you how much he loves and missed you, looking up at you with those obsessive eyes of him and a furious blush covering his cheeks, and kill anyone that dares to get close to you two

- which is why I recommend the more inhuman way to treating him if he does become your yandere, unless you love him enough to spend all your time with him, tending to his every need and sacrificing yourself in the process

- rip his other eyes out, watch him scream in agony, call ronove to amputate his arms and legs

- he can shoot lasers out of his hand, I repeat, he can shoot those out of his fingertips

- make him disabled, enough that he become a weak and helpless animal that can’t do anything to threaten anyone

- oh, I forgot to mention but rip his wings too, he shouldn’t be able to fly

- once you did all of this, maybe cut off his tongue while you are at it, he tends to have a foul mouth

- who knows, maybe he can shoot lasers from there too?

- honestly, it will be hard to keep him alive at this point, but if you still desire to do so, Welp, congratulations, he is totally harmless now!

- and as soon as he hears you enter his room, his cheeks will turn red and sounds of joy would escape his throat

- what a joke he is, he still ‘loves’ you so dearly after all you did huh?

- God, do you see this? This is the result of your action, unyielding love and affection from those beings that called themselves pure, how amazing

[vimook]

"that's up to you."

this was a mahasamut episode and something that stuck with me is the fact that he is someone who seeks to be chosen and intentionally loved. as there is intention in everything he does and says. as well as in what he feels. that is his love language.

however, what solidifies it for me is just how tied it is to his wounded inner child. this is a boy who was faced, very early on, with the notion that home is the thing you walk away from and that it was what he had to do to survive.

mahasamut does not think highly of himself. confident as he can be, that is something that is made clear throughout the entire series, whether it's through the villagers who fawn him, the belittling of his education and upbringing or his keenness on being on a leash (and this isn't just a kink). the fact that dogs love you no matter how badly you treat them, they'll even die of a heartbreak when you die. there have been stories of dogs who have died in their person's grave or waited for them in the place they were abandoned, hoping they'd come back. so i have always seen mut's undying commitment to that part as the manifestation of being kicked to the curb and treated like a dog (which is already a phrase that implies a certain dehumanization that i fear he has internalized) by his father. in spite of that, he remained loyal, loving, considering, earnest, honest as both not to let others feel the way he felt but also so he isn't something to be thrown away. though even if you do, he'll be there, in your grave. and i guess that's the point.

his selflessness, as characteristic of him as it is, wasn't nurtured in a vacuum. it doesn't entirely stem from simple kindness either, but i gather from a need to be purposeful and useful. it comes down to having a sense of belonging as well, which particularly speaks to how he reacts to being included in rak's life and family. in his future. in the midst of uncertainty and the expectancy that at one point, he has to give himself deadlines for self-preservation because he is the sort of person who will lose themselves, trying to save you.

i often use the quote "the violence it took to become this gentle" because it did, in fact, take a lot of it and no one will really ever know just how much. how much he has seen, how much he suffered, how much he has done to himself. being in a small town is no small challenge, and for a long time, i kept thinking about how alone he must have felt. how determined he was in showing tongrak that his father was weak and mediocre. how people used to laugh at him. knowing that his father probably had a lot of friends and was known in the village and in a small town, that often means to overlook and handle certain situations and topics in a very narrow way. i don't think he ever had the chance to show how weak his own father was, so when he speaks for tongrak, for meena, for anyone, he's also talking to and for himself.

i previously commented that i would have liked to see mut's own processing of his feelings more because as resolved as he seems to be, he has a lot of piled up stuff in there and there's a mut who is insecure, who doesn't want to embarrass you, who questions whether what he can give is enough, who's sorry, who's angry, who's hurt, who can be "ugly" in how he feels. beyond the understanding, the patience, the care, the selflessness. regardless of those things even. there is nuance to being thick-skinned.

apologies don't stop you from internalizing any hurt. it's in character to have different sides to your own pain and feelings. just the fact that he proceeded to punch rak's father is an example, because apart from his need to protect other people, he was also hurt and reliving the disappointment of being cut loose. no matter how much you understand something and someone, it won't prevent you from feeling. that only tells me that there's so much more acknowledgement to be done for him as well.

so with the 10th episode, we have someone who is backed up against a wall and has to decide to care about his own well being for once and whether he's okay, tired, has reached a limit because he knows he can be disappointed, and we understand that through his conversation with mook. you can just tell this was a long process of rumination. what makes it even more curious is the fact that, even though he knew he could be rejected and had to accept it, we see his inner child resurfacing when it happens. the resignation, the anger, the apologies as he is the fool and has forced himself on to someone. what makes it harder, in my opinion, is the realization that you can be loved but somehow it's not enough for someone to stay. i feel like that moment when he realizes what the number 8 represented, what he represented caused such a visceral deepening of that wound, and made him once again face the question of why must he always leave his heart behind and why won't anyone hold on to it. he internalized that.

tongrak shifts that when he decides that home is the thing you run to and what really got me is the request that he tells mut how he feels to his face instead of an apology. tell me who is home. i need to hear it. who do you love this much?

you're here. i'm here. we're here. remind me of this fact for the rest of our lives.

[daddyisastateofmind]

The Duke and Duchess attend the Monarchal summit

*tug tug*

"Darlin'"

*tug tug*

"Darlin'"

*tug tug*

Sam reached over and placed his hand on Darlin's hand where it was currently fiddling with their sleeve. "Darlin', look at me."

With a huff, Darlin's eyes looked up to Sam.

He struggled to withhold the smile tugging at his lips. His Darlin' was so cute when they were pouting, but Sam knew voicing that wouldn't help at this moment.

"You look wonderful Darlin'. You don't need to try and improve on perfection."

"I feel like I'm playing dress up."

"Well, you are. But so will everyone else. And they'll look way more ridiculous than you will ever feel."

Darlin' purposefully put their hands on their knees and hooked their nails into their skin to stop fidgeting. "Shoulda just sent Milo in my place. Or his mate. They both took way too much glee in treating me like a living, breathing barbie doll."

Sam smiled "Well, you don't look like a barbie right now."

"No, but that's only because I had to get out a colour wheel and show them exactly which colours they were limited to."

Sam chuckled and took one of their hands into his own. "I'm guessing that was a small amount of colours to choose from."

"Yeah, apparently too small according to them. But we ended up in a compromise - colours found in abundance in nature" They lifted their other hand and waved it over their outfit. "That's how they ended up on this. They said the category was 'Peacock Eleganza Extravaganza'"

He cocked his head to the side and ran his eyes over the outfit "Huh, you do look a little bird-ish."

Darlin' had only begun to rant "I would have looked much worse if Milo had his way - he wanted to attach actual peacock feathers to me."

Sam tried not to giggle at the thought of his Darlin' covered in feathers. "Thank god you talked him outta that."

"I didn't though!" they exploded "He insisted that the feathers were part of his vision! He only relented when his mate said that he was being too costume-y."

Sam couldn't help but giggle now.

"But then," they continued "their suggestion was to get a live peacock and walk it around on a leash all night instead! Thank god they couldn't find one to rent at the last minute. I walked out of the room as they were trying to figure out what exactly the legal repercussions would be if they were caught breaking into the zoo and stealing one."

Sam groaned around a grin "Menaces. You're a pack full of menaces."

Darlin' admired Sam's face for a second - he looked gorgeous when he lit up like that. But soon after the anxiety started to bite again.

"You know I don't belong here Sam" they said softly, scared to say it out loud.

Sam's eyes softened "In the limo?"

"Going to the summit." they tried to pull their hand out from Sam's, but he just squeezed his grip on them tighter. "This isn't me - the fanciest I get is putting on slacks and having dinner at Olive Garden." Their tone went quiet again "I'm not gonna fit in there...with them."

If there was one thing in the world Sam hated, it was the look on Darlin's face when they were insecure. They were such a strong presence - give them a task to complete and their gaze would harden and their lips pulled into a stoic grimace. Even when facing someone twice their size, they stood tall and straight, confident that they could take them on.

But insecure Darlin'? With their eyes big and soft, looking up to Sam like a little lost child? It damn near broke his heart.

"That'll make us the 2 outsiders tonight. I'm a hick from no-one-cares-ville. I've never had to - never needed - to blend in with that kinda crowd. And I aint gonna lie to you love - there are those who don't think I deserve to breathe the same air as them. But I never took that as a reason to change myself for them." He let go of their hand and put his arm around their shoulders.

"All you got to do is be yourself Darl'. That's all I ever want you to be." He placed a light kiss right in the middle of their forehead, and then tucked their head onto his shoulder.

Sam put on a smooth charming drawl "If you want, I could always tell William that we're not going to-"

Darlin' pulled away from him "No, Sam."

"But-"

"I said no. William invited me-"

Sam rolled his eyes "It's possible to decline a invitation Darlin'"

"Not when it was a literal gold engraved invitation, it isn't," Sam had to remind himself that it wasn't appropriate at his age to stomp his feet like a child.

"Besides, he was nice enough to invite me as part of the clan, even though I have no claim to it. I have to go."

Sam glanced at them and saw them school their expression into one of determination. "I'm going." Their voice sounded confident, but he could still see a glimpse of that lost little child in their eyes.

The limo turned a driveway and joined the queue of fancy sport cars and other limos dropping off their passengers.

"Well, if we're going, then I suppose I have to tell you something."

Darlin' responded but they were looking out the windscreen to the huge mansion they were getting closer to. "What's that?"

"But you have to promise me this never reaches the pack." That had them direct their focus straight at Sam.

"What is it?"

He grimaced and rubbed his chin. "You know how William's the king of the clan?"

"Yeah."

"And Alexis and Vincent are his progenies?"

'Yes Sam, I pay attention."

"Well, that means they get to be called the princess and prince of the clan."

"O...k... Wait, are you a pr-"

"No, nope, I'm not a prince." Sam shook his head vehemently.

The limo was inching closer to the door now - only 1 car ahead of them.

"So what are you trying to tell me?"

Was Sam sweating? He felt like he was sweating, but when he wiped his hand against his forehead, it came up dry. Gods, this was so hard. "Since I am the progeny of a king's progeny, that makes me..."

"Makes you?"

A valet opened up the door next to Sam, who took this opportunity to rush out the next words. "Well Darlin', that makes me a duke."

He quickly stepped out of the limo. Standing there, adjusting his jacket, he waited for his mate to emerge. And he waited. And he waited.

He was about to duck back inside, when Darlin finally exited the vehicle. With the biggest shit eating grin he's ever seen.

With a high put upon voice his meemaw would have described as 'hoity-toity', they slipped their arm through his and announced loudly "Come Samuel, I am absolutely famished, and I long to tell Jemima about our summer in the Hamptons."

Sam mouthed "Jemima?" as he was dragged into the mansion on Darlin's arm.

He had a feeling, even if Darlin' hid this little fact from the rest of their pack, he was going to be the butt of many jokes for years to come. But it was worth it - the delight they had his expense meant they spent the whole evening with a huge smile on their face.

Sometimes Sam was sad about his turning - how his previous life was snatched away, and then was bestowed a life he never wanted. But he saw the silver lining sometimes. If he hadn't been turned, he might have not met his Darlin'. And might not have their sparkling eyes as they introduced themselves as the mate of the Duke of the Solaire clan to as many as people as possible - taking much pleasure in pointing to Sam "That one. That one there. He's the Duke of the Solaire clan."

Sam congratulated himself for not wearing his crown tonight. He wouldn't want Darlin' to pull a muscle laughing at him.

[doodle-pops]

House of Fingolfin | Getting Into a Fight For Their S/O

A/N: Finally decided to continue more headcanons for the other elves.

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Fingolfin

He’s proper and never one for engaging in any physical altercations even if the situation escalated. Fingolfin is someone who would allow his men to dispose of the individual who dared to step to his level.

However, when the unknown situation arises and the need to become violent is necessary, I’m not sure who’s the one to put a leash on this terror of an elf, but it’s definitely more than five guards to hold him back from damaging the elf who spat absurdities at his family or you.

He’s made up of pure strength so brute force he required to drag him away from lunging at the ellon. Your appearance would assist in diluting his temper, drawing his focus to you and not the pulp of an elf lying on the floor.

Fingolfin would have landed hits to the elf, so his knuckles would be bruised, this you would nurse back to health while silently brooding and muttering under his breath at the speed of light.

You don’t pick up on anything he’s cursing on and on about, but you know it’s based on the situation. Just give him some kisses on his face and lead him far away to blow some steam off.

Take him for a long walk away from the kingdom and have him kick some rocks like a child. He’ll surely calm down after a week. “Have you calmed down yet?” “I’ve always been calm,” he says as his eye twitches.

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Fingon

Can appear impulsive when he isn’t thinking right, but like his father, Fingon’s a composed individual and refuses to throw the first fist for something that can be solved otherwise. His solution is to walk away or laugh it off, which probably provokes the other person to take insulting jabs at those precious to him.

It’s gonna take a lot to make him lunge at the individual, preferably, the latter being the one to throw the first hit leaving him with no choice but to defend himself. In that moment, you can bet all his frustration would come pouring out.

The entire scene is unusual, watching Fingon engage in a physical altercation with a random elf which leads to everyone knowing it’s something serious and rushing to pull him away. It’ll take just Maedhros or Turgon to tug Fingon off the battered ellon.

To you, the scene is horrifying after watching a gentle–natured elf engaged in a fight. You know he’s not thinking straight with fury in his mind, so it’s for you to step in and dissolve his temper with soothing words and touches to his face. His siblings would stand guard, unsure of whether he’d break away.

For starters, he’s ashamed that you witnessed him so unhinged and would rather disappear for days into weeks before confronting you. It’s for you to ensure him that you don’t hate him for it. You have to hold him down and tend to his wounds while listening to his endless apologies.

Make him feel better with lots of cuddles and spending time with him away from everyone. “Come for some love, Finno,” you say as he wastes no time in running over to snuggle into your arms.

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Turgon

Not the last person anyone would suspect to throw a fist, but the first person due to his cold temperament and judgemental persona. His temper is unmatched and will not hesitate to connect his fist with someone disrespecting him and his family.

I don’t believe anyone will survive his punches but let’s pretend this person does to receive a few more to create a brawl and you can witness Turgon becoming absolutely unhinged. It is quite easy to rile him up into becoming physically involved, yes, he would prefer to walk away but not when the disrespect is unspeakable.

Maybe his father has to pull him off or his brothers and cousins all together because like his father, he has the strength to match his stature. Turgon is a brute force of nature, so kudos to whoever is on the receiving end. However, what makes his attack dangerous is his stealth.

No one expects him to openly throw a hit because one minute he’s laughing and the next he’s on the floor beating someone up. Like?? It’s not a pleasant sight for you to witness though you’re aware of his sizzling temper and his bitter tongue. Plus, he probably got into fights as a child so it’s natural.

The only time you can approach him is when he’s already dragged off and in the healing wing being persecuted by his father (if he’s around). Your appearance would be the ice he needs to completely dissolve. He isn’t going to forget (this man holds grudges), but he’ll follow you as long as it’s far away from the altercation.

Take him on a random spur-of-the-moment holiday and pamper him like a baby. Of course, you will have to prepare yourself for hearing him complain about the incident. Every. Single. Day. “Are you finished Káno?” “...No.”

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Argon

It physically pains me to imagine this beanstalk engaging in a physical altercation with someone, however, he is described as impudent, so there you have it. Argon will throw around his fist like his older brother to beat some fool to a pulp for insulting his friends and family, and you.

He doesn’t want to hear a reason for why he shouldn’t do what he did, all he knows is that the elf said disrespectful comments and deserved to be handled with extra care. There’s no stopping Argon when he starts, given his hunk of a structure which has muscles to accompany his frame.

Definitely get the family to separate him from the perpetrator because he isn’t budging from his spot. They can pry him off and he’d slip away to finish what he started because he’s fighting them to let him go. You got to stand between him and the bruised ellon on the floor to catch his attention.

Talk sweetly to him, call his name—slip in a nickname—to soothe his unhinged nature. Reach for his hands and tug him away from the scene, telling him everything will be alright, and his family will take care of the rest.

Spend the time cleaning his wounds and littering kisses to his bruises. Use this moment to incorporate a ton of affection; maybe every time he feels angry, give him a kiss and a hug. Don’t think you’re escaping his grasp once he becomes aware of the affections you’re bequeathing.

Like many others, shame becomes him, and he’ll endlessly apologise for the manner in which you saw him behaving, promising to never act impulsively like that again without gauging the situation firsthand.

“It’s alright, Káno. You were simply being my hero, defending me from those naysayers. Now come for some kisses.”

Masterlist

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[stevie-petey]

How about Steve and bug talking about what they think their future is gonna be like? When he comes and visits her at work and they just talk about random stuff. He just says something off handedly like " I hope my kids read like you do, I want them to be booksmart like you." " Do you wanna have kids?"

" oh yeah definitely I want six."

"Six?! I could probably only handle three, if my kids are anything like me they'll be leash kids I'm serious."

And it's just sweet, them talking about how they hope their life to be, not knowing that they're each other's future.

oooo YES !!!

enjoy <3

"how many kids would you want? ya know, assuming you actually do want kids in the future."

steves question causes you to drop the change youd been counting at the register. "im sorry, what?"

"kids?" he sees your bewilderment and frowns. "what, youve never thought about your future?"

"i mean, sure? but i havent given any thought about kids. im sixteen, steve."

"and im seventeen and know for a fact that i want my kids to be booksmart like you." steve responds, not even paying that much attention to you as he busies himself with a comic.

you stare at him in shock. god, steve harrington really does just say the most bizarre things so casually. hes thought about his kids? and about how he wants them to be like you?

sometimes, you really hate that he does this. because then he just leaves you there, always standing in shock, as he goes about his day as if this is all normal.

you take a deep breath and shake your head, you have a job to do. dimes and nickels need to be attended to. "can i ask what sparked this insane thought?"

steve holds up the comic hes reading. "see, these i like. but those books about war and peace? no thanks. but... i dont know. guess theyd be good for my kids, seeing as they made you so smart."

you laugh. "im not the genius you think i am. i still think spider-man is real."

"youre like, the top of your class. shush."

"so sassy for a man who daydreams about having kids." you tease, but something shifts behind steves eyes.

"it is weird, isnt it?" he ducks his head down. "sorry."

well, now you feel bad. sighing, you drop the change in your hand and walk over to steve. sure, its a bit weird, but also incredibly sweet that he already seems to know how he'll raise his kids in the future.

you sit next to him and pluck the comic out of his hands. "so, tell me. how many kids we talking?"

a smile returns to steves face. "definitely, like, six."

"six?" you choke on your spit. "and who is birthing these six fucking children?"

a pause, then a frown. "hm. ya know, i never thought about that."

"bless you," you pat steves knee and he laughs. "i think id like three or so. maybe more, but definitely at least three. i love having a sibling, and i love taking care of dustin and his friends. ive already got years of experience."

"three? weak. do better, y/n." steve pokes your side.

you slap his hand away. "hey, i know im a handful. so is dustin. with my luck, my children will be little mini dustins and that... is a very scary thought."

"im an only child-"

"shocking!"

"anyways, its lonely. so im having as many kids as i possibly can. itd be fun, and id take them out to play baseball and go to parks and build forts and-"

"read them bedtime stories so they become booksmart?"

steve snaps his fingers and smiles. "exactly! you get me, y/n."

you giggle. "i try."

and for the last hour of your shift, you and steve debate the hypotheticals of your futures. steve remains adamant that he becomes a housewife, and you declare that if even one of your kids turns out like dustin, then youre sending them to live with him.

its a good day.

[gatitties]

Hey! Hey. Here's a gift for being a wonderful writer and person 💐💐💐

I just wanted to ask...well, you can take it as a Part 2 of the Platonic Yandere! Monster trio with Teen!Female!Y/n who hot into their world. What if Y/n will get invited into another crew? Not just any crew but Law's or Kid's ? (You can choose one of them or if you feel mischievous both).

Maybe they then kidnapped Y/n.???(Plot twist?)

─Yandere!monster trio x teen!fem!reader (platonic)

─Summary: you try to go with another crew, but that would be very dangerous for you, it's better to stay with them, right?

─Warnings: toxic behaviors, obsession, manipulation, yandere stuff

Part one

omg you're so cute 🫂 now everyone here is yanderes and they want to spend time with reader 😩 (@emtynessinmyworld, @hbk99450 here you go, second part!!)

─ You have to be very lucky that someone outside the crew can even talk to you or look at you.

─ Luffy is still an idiot at least, he won't mind if you meet other people only if they are trustworthy, just like Sanji, Zoro is the least permissive in terms of the people you are allowed to talk to.

─ However, at some point in history Law arrived, you knew it, but as you promised, you were not going to ruin their adventures.

─ They didn't take much importance to it when you and Law started talking more often, after all, now they were in an alliance with him and you seemed to be behaving normally with them, you learned to swallow your fear little by little knowing that they wouldn't harm you physically.

─ The problem was that you fascinated Law with all your history, your world, how you got here, the few medical things you knew and that you could tell him about your world, he seemed to never tire of conversations with you.

─ Of course, he is not stupid and he noticed the obsessive behavior of the trio the more time he spent with you, it seemed that stealing your time irritated them, they always looked for an excuse to get away from him, he didn't like it.

─ Before the alliance ended, he offered you to sail with him, after all he could also protect you, but more importantly heal you if any incident ever happens

─ If you accepted, keep in mind that these three are going to catch you red-handed trying to leave them, why are you leaving? Are you no longer comfortable with them by your side? It doesn't matter, they are the only ones who can keep you safe, you know it well, they are the protagonists isn't it?

─ If you manage to escape anyway, don't think that Law will be more permissive, he will be stricter with certain things, although he knows that he can control you perfectly, he just needs a bit of blackmail to get you to calm down.

─ If you don't succeed, you will be punished, you will have to be locked in your room for a few days, and after that you will have to go with a child leash when you are on an island, they will not lose sight of you and you will have to earn their trust little by little.

─ Then again, if you ever cross paths with Kid without the boys, or even with them, maybe he heard some rumor about a strange teenager traveling with the Strawhats.

─ Kid is an asshole, he will only want you on his ship to annoy Luffy, like starting a war.

─He'll try to kidnap you, you're weak so it's a piece of cake for him, just a little help from his crew is enough to distract the monster trio and leave you alone.

─ Killer will look at him with disapproval after hearing why you were there, but it was too late to return you, they didn't want to have someone useless in terms of strength on their ship.

─ Luckily you exchanged that lack of power with knowledge, god bless those idiotic but useful google searches you did all the time before you got here.

─ Of all the crews, the Kid Pirates were the least concerned about your well-being, which gave you a break from everything you had to put up with the Strawhats or, failing that, if you had finished with Law.

─ Although that does not mean that they now consider you part of the group, being the weakest link, they always had you in their sights in case something happened, Heat and Wire became your bodyguards.

─ They have definitely been threatened by Luffy, he has probably done something out of character for him and that is why they are watching that there is not even a measly wound on your body, somehow, both you and they know that the trio of monsters will return.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 3

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, Lloyd being the worst, and other dark elements.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The list of what you can do is shorter than those things barred from you. The doctor merely confirmed your deepest fears and sealed Lloyd’s sentence. A baby. A whole other life and you’re supposed to be responsible for it. You know for a fact he won’t be, at least, not beyond tossing money at the situation.

Your arm is tender from the implant removal. The procedure was emblematic of your state. The excision of part of yourself, the last remnant of your old self. You mourn the loss quietly, keeping your face blank as you pretend to read the literature shoveled into your hands by the nurse before your departure.

Lloyd is gleeful, he can’t hide his joy but you are not deluded. It’s not some wholesome delight at bringing a new life into the world, no, it’s celebrating the life he’s ruined. Yours. A child is the brand that marks your ownership.

As you enter his house, it feels bleak. The pristine white and gold aesthetic is dingy and beige to your eyes. The world is grimmer, constricted. Your leash is tight and cannot reach beyond these walls.

A sudden smack across your ass jolts you from your melancholic trance. Lloyd takes a pamphlet from the pile clutched in your hands and unfolds it. He gives it a once over and hands it back.

“I got a treadmill in the gym. You should hop on that every once in a while. Stuff says you need to stay active,” he shrugs, “wouldn’t mind a workout buddy.”

You squint at him. There it is. All those times Colin gently tried to goad you. ‘There’s a special at the gym’, ‘let’s make a new years resolution’,’ it wouldn’t be a bad idea to try something new’.

“Or… I could go for walks outside,” you suggest, “get some fresh air.”

“Don’t be fucking smart,” he warns, “I’m not being a fuckhead here, I’m trying to help. Do what’s best for the baby but don’t you dare lose that fucking ass. A brisk pace, no running.”

You sigh. This man has the audacity to dictate everything around him as if the world is built just for him. In his head, maybe it is. From the looks of it, he’s never been denied anything in his life. 

“So, you still don’t trust me?”

“Trust?” He clucks, “that’s a funny concept. But no. You wanna go for a walk, I’ll take you out for one like a good pet.”

You scowl and he smirks, reaching to tap the end of your nose. You wipe your face of all emotion and pull away, refocusing on the booklets in your hand.

“Decaf,” he declares, “and we should look into some vitamins. Doc says at your age–”

“I wish you hadn’t just welcomed yourself in, you know? It’s kind of… private.”

“Hey, I’m the father, I got every right to know what’s going on with my kid.”

“Mmm, sure, and what about when the kid shows up? How about diapers? Colic? Sticky hands?”

“That’s what nanny’s are for,” he wrinkles his nose, “ew, you’re– such a pessimist, baby face.”

And you're a dumbass, you keep the retort to yourself and shake your head at the next page. No coffee, no hot baths, no sushi… Sounds like a wonderful nine months.

“One thing at a time,” he nears and grasps the clutter in your hands. A brief tug-of-war as you clamp down but relent, letting him take it before it scattered, “we still got a wedding to plan.”

“Plan? I thought Vegas was easy–”

“Dresses,” he insists as he places the papers in the console table drawer, “get your coat off. We’re gonna do a little fashion show.”

“Oh, fuck off. Just gimme the one with the most last,” you huff as you unbutton your coat.

“I think we should weigh our options, baby,” he opens the closet and hangs his jacket, “so you’re gonna strut and do a pretty little spin. If your ass don’t look good, we know it’s not the one.”

“You are so romantic,” you say dryly as you add your coat to the row along the rod.

“Oh, I’m thinking the whole nine yard. Veil, flowers, something blue, something inside you–”

“Right, let’s just get this over with before I vomit,” you interrupt him.

“Ah, little baby Hansen already causing trouble.”

“No, you. You make me sick.”

He snickers and grabs your arm. He pulls you to him, his other arm looping around you. He leans in and you try to turn your face away. He catches your chin and holds you in place as he plants a sloppy kiss on your mouth.

“You think they’ll let me kiss you other lips at the altar,” he purrs as he parts, “climb up under your skirt–”

“Do you ever stop?”

“Not really,” he answers, another slap on your ass, “let’s go, peaches.”

He keeps an arm around you as he guides you away from the entryway and back to the front room where the rack of dresses waits. The golden bar has been righted and the garment bags rehung. Lloyd lets you go and strides ahead of you, pushing apart the wire hangers with a hum.

“Oh, this one is my front runner,” he turns to you and holds out a white bag, “this one first.”

You glare at him and slowly approach, taking it with hesitance.

“So, when exactly is this wedding supposed to happen because I probably won’t fit into these soon–”

“You sign?” He challenges.

You swallow and give an indecisive look to the ceiling.

“I told you I would–”

“Later,” he waves you off, “don’t spoil this.”

You barely keep from rolling your eyes. You? Spoil it? You look down at the hang and drag away the long garment bag.

“Change here,” he insists as he sits on the sofa, stretching his arms wide across the back, “behind that… whatever.”

He points to the fanned divider placed to the impractical aesthetic of whatever designer he paid to decorate. You sniff and near the wall, pulling it out to angle it around so you have some room behind it. You peek over at him as he feels his mustache and smirks at the room.

You dip behind the barrier and unzip the bag. The contents are worse than you could ever imagine. A white leather halter dress. Not your style, if you can claim to have any. You sigh and pull it out.

“What’s up, doll face?” Lloyd taunts from the other side.

“Nothing,” you lie, your tone betraying your agitation.

You undress and open the zipper as wide as it goes. You struggle to pull the tight leather sheath up your body and strain to do it up. You’re less impressed by the cut out over your cleavage and long split down the thigh. Worse, the way it stretches over your stomach makes you feel even more exposed.

“This isn’t it,” you drone, “I’m taking it off–”

“Get out here,” he speaks over you.

“Lloyd, I hate it–”

“That shit’s designer so you walk your ass out here and give me a look,” he intones, “now, sweetheart.”

You hold back another frustrated exhale and move slowly. The leather creaks loudly and you cringe. You come around the divider and march over to the sofa. You stop before him and cross your arms.

“It’s too small.”

“Fuck,” he leans forward and steeples his hands, brushing his fingers up under his chin, “you look fucking hot.”

“Don’t–”

“Your tits look huge. Like… humongous–” He makes a motion as if squeezing your chest.

You stare at him, unable to conceal your anger. Is he just saying he likes it because he knows you don’t or is he really that tacky?

“Turn,” he spins his finger in the air. You take a breath and obey. As you do, he growls and slaps his thigh. “Damn, that ass. I mean, you can’t see it but let me tell you, it looks magnificent. The kinda ass a man could dive right into.”

“Right, thanks,” you face him again with a sneer, “can I take this shit off?”

“You can hike up that skirt and give daddy a ride,” he sits back as he drags his hands up his pants and pulls his knees apart. The bulge beneath the white pants is all too obvious.

“This isn’t the dress, Lloyd. There are a dozen more–”

“I know it’s not, but you gotta fuck me in it at least once,” he picks at his fly.

You cringe and slowly bend to grab the skirt, pushing it back at the split as you get closer. He pulls his dick above his pants and strokes himself, reaching for your hip as he guides you into his lap. You get on your knees as you fight the leather around you and he rubs his tip against your entrance.

You sink down onto him and he trails his fingertips up your body. He covers your tits with his hands and squeezes, bucking below you as he groans.

“Fuck, baby, I don’t think I’m ready to share these,” he leans forward and buries his face in your cleavage, shaking his head with a lewd noise. He pulls back and tilts his head up to look at you, “I’m just fine with a formula baby.”

You push him against the couch and rock your hips. It’s the only way to shut him up. And you’ll gladly take a moment of peace before they’re gone for good.

[whimsicalpoet44]

Astro Observations # 4

🌟 Every Sagittarius I've ever met was very good at sports regarding the legs. Particularly soccer, skating, and running. For some reason, they also tend to be strong swimmers.

🌟 People with major Aries and Libra placements together tend to be a walking contradiction. They can simultaneously become enraged while also keeping a leash on their anger at the same time. They're also easily excitable. I love them.

🌟 Chiron in Virgo individuals often are forced to confront their biggest wounds or their health will suffer.

🌟 Gemini stelliums will often hyper-fixate on certain people, but do a terrible job expressing how much those people mean to them. Some will feel loved and others will feel discarded, leading to an abundance of confusion to the stellium individual. It's because they struggle with affection and communicating their intentions with the people around them.

🌟 Uranus in the 1st house | Aquarius risings | 11th House Suns will often manage many of the same struggles throughout their lives. They will be forced to break the societal norm and make their own way in life. It's likely an extremely painful, but transformative experience.

🌟 Capricorn Venus individuals love to express their love through gifts, but not in the way you think. Many interpret that showing love through gifts is because the person doesn't know how to express their emotions adequately. Cap Venus individuals do it because they genuinely care about the person and like to take a practical approach to affection. They want to care for their needs + give them the things they won't buy for themselves. It's a genuine act of love.

🌟 Pisces | 12th House placements can see how everyone affects the world. They understand their impact. They know how much one sentence can genuinely change a person's life and throw them on a completely different trajectory. (i.e. a cashier talking to someone about dinosaurs could peak a child's interest. That child then goes home, googles dinosaurs and becomes obsessed. They later become a paleontologist. That never would've happened if they hadn't heard the cashier say what they said).

☀️ Having your South Node in someone's 12th House indicates unfinished business from a past life. Deep and intricate life changes occur here. Often times, it can end badly, but the person learns what they need to in order to advance forward in life. If the 12th house individual is receptive to the south node individual, they can end up life long friends or have a fondness for each other.

🌟 If your romantic relationship isn't working out with someone, but you have 11th house synastry, it could indicate you're both better friends. If both parties are open to attempting a friendship, it could be a lifelong connection for both of you.

🌟 The reason so many millennials/gen z have issues with relationships is because a lot of them have their Chiron in Libra. This indicates wounds pertaining to relationships. (hence, the toxic dating culture we see among these individuals)

🌟 Individuals with a lot of Scorpio placements tend to struggle with being vulnerable. It often puts them in position where they MUST make a choice - will they embody the magnificence of Scorpio or will they embody every toxic stereotype we know about Scorpio. (obviously, not everyone with Scorpio placements experience this, but the ones with heavy heavy placements)

🌟 North Node in Leo in the 1st House individuals often gain fame just for being who they are.

[doki-doki-imagines]

OMG THE KAISER AND YUKIMIYA AS ANIMALS HAD ME CACKLING AND GIGGLING LIKE A CHILD 😭😭😭

pls i need a part 2 with kunigami and ness 🙏🙏🙏🙏 its too good

Thanks for requesting! Happy to know you liked the previous post!

Rensuke Kunigami -Rottweiler

-“Look I don’t know what happened but this big boy here is Rensuke” Isagi says at your doorstep handing you the leash “Take care of him.” You don’t have time to reply that Isagi already run off somewhere leaving a cloud of dust behind.

-“Incredible Rensuke, you are handsome even as a dog” A sweet smile appears on your face, patting his head.

-You love how you follow all your orders “Hope the human Rensuke will keep this quality” he bit your leg; lightly tho, Rensuke keeps his softness in all shapes and forms.

-He got his revenge when you took him out for a walk, walk is a nice way to describe the marathon he made you do; seeing him showing his teeth at any person approaching you was the only entertaining bit.

-Rensuke wants to keep his diet in his dog body too, you look at him like he is crazy because he is. “How I’m gonna balance your nutrition? A dog needs different values you know?” He doesn’t move a muscle, you let out a loud sigh; he can be so stubborn.

-The next morning you wake up alone, your boyfriend nowhere to be seen. You open all the doors of your house calling his name-

“I’m here, stop shouting.”

Ahhhh, you forgot to check the bathroom. Here we are now, your boyfriend came out from the bathroom, droplets of water falling down from his orange hair, his skin still shiny, and a flimsy towel covering his pelvis.

And are those dog ears???

This must be some kind of reward.

“Are you fine? Why are you looking at me-“ Rensuke couldn’t finish the phrase and when he regained control of his brain the phrase was already long forgotten.

Alexis Ness – Hamster

-It’s Noa that delivers it to you “I don’t know how they made this mess, but this-“ and he lifts up the cutest creature your eyes have ever laid on “is Ness. It should last only one day, but you are for sure the most suited to take care-“ you take the hamster in your hand and close the door in front of Noa’s face.

-“My life will be forever devoted to you.” You tell to your boyfriend, that replies looking at you with his big eyes.

-You spend your day taking endless photos of him, he is beautiful under all lights, all his sides are perfect and for sure you don’t hide your appreciation for him.

-When you go out to buy sunflower seeds you put him in your breast pocket; when he pulls his muzzle out you feel your knees weaken.

You risked falling on the ground more times than you’d like to admit.

-You hand-feed him, and when he took the seeds with his tiny little paws…you crushed your head on the nearest wall; maybe that would have turned you back to normal.

“Ness, I always knew you are the cutest man walking on this planet, but dear God you beat also the hamster universe.”

-You make him a nest with covers on the sofa, while you went to sleep on the bed, fearing to crush him in your sleep.

-When you wake up you have already a smile on your face.

“(Y/n) I’m back to normal!” your door opens to see your boyfriend naked and back to normal…more or less.

-He climbs on your bed, now face to face with you.

And his round ears twitch. He still has those cute hamster ears and you feel like tearing up.

-“Now it is my turn to appreciate you dove.” He starts to kiss your jaw, getting with each smooch nearer to your lips “it’s the job of the most cute man in the world to remind his partner of their value, right?”

[reallyromealone]

Omfg I remember reading your story like how ever long ago and I finally found your acc again ‼️‼️

Idk If this is in the works or if you ended the series but please I beg of you can we get a pt4 of the vampire knight story like omfg ehdhshejeh.

Your writing is so good. And thank you so much for taking that incest and Yuki being a vampire like wtf was the ending anyways thxxxx

Feel free to ignore

Well welcome back!

So I am slowly working on it, I had half a chapter worked on but if no one cares you get discouraged lol

Here's what I have so far

Cross looked at (name) worriedly, the Omega no longer felt safe in the night dorms was something of concern "I can't explain it but... When I see those new people...." (Name) had a far away look as he spoke slowly, almost methodically as he chose his words carefully, this was a side of (name) that cross had never seen and frankly?

It worried him.

"I want to gouge their eyes out" (name) whispered, the sweet vampire never spoke poorly of people as even by vampiric standards be was incredibly kind though one could chalk that to his rather flighty and airheaded nature "so until it's safe to return, I would like to stay here if that's possible" (name) whispered, taking the initiative for his safety and cross felt he was speaking to a different person "I'll make arrangements with Kaname, now... When was the last time you got a good night's sleep, pup?" (Name) let the headmaster lead him to the guest room, settling into bed as the brunette immediately went to call for Kaname.

"Have... Have you ever seen (name) serious?" Cross asked as they sat in his office, he needed to know (name)s mood shift as obviously he would be more serious due to his safety but... It didn't feel right and apparently he was on the money for his concerns "If he is to stay here... You should be made aware of something"

"Go on"

"(Name) gets... Temperamental when he's feeling threatened, it's why we keep him on such a tight leash as he isn't good at processing what he deems a threat or not and he has lashed out before for minor things"

"I feel like this isn't the full story"

"It's why we medicate him, not enough to render him useless but enough to keep him calm, he was supposed to take his medication soon-- we mix it with his tablets as they look identical" that would explain why kaname was so serious about (name)s pills in particular, things falling into place in Cross's mind "what happens if he gets off them?" Cross asked the important question and Kaname sighed "last time was when he was a child, a maid touched one of his toys-- we didn't know he was going to be putting it in his nest and he broke her hand" he explained "he has anger, a lot of it from his former life before joining us and until he knows who he is and we can help... This is the safest way"

The room was silent as cross thought about it "what measures can we take to assure he doesn't have an outburst like that"

"The sakamakis need to be kept away from him, we can't remove them as they seem to have their sights on (name) for some reason, I have people looking into it but we have been keeping them at a distance"

"Anything else?"

"If I find anything I'll be sure to let you know" the two were in the dark about (name)s connection to the cursed family, the vampire community knew well of the Sakamakis and their... Frankly horrific ways even by vampiric standards, their father despised that Kaname held more power than him, causing Karlheinz to focus his attention on human things to gain power.

"For now, we do what we can..."

(Name) woke to kaname gently tracing his face, a distant look in his eyes as (name) snuggled into his hand "it's time for your feeding" kaname held the glass of red liquid as (name) sat up and drank it, it never fully satisfied him but it kept the burning in the back of his throat at bay, no longer feeling like he hadn't drank liquid in days but instead just slightly dehydrated. (Name) sat on the bed as Kaname put together clothes for him, his alpha feeling the aggressive need to tend to his omega "you will have to come back to the dorms after classes as Aido is tutoring you but fret not little one, I'll be sure to keep you out of harm's way" (name) felt the wave of tiredness begin, 'these blood tablets were annoying' (name) thought to himself as Kaname put high socks on him, wrapping a ribbon to keep them in place "Could we go to town?" (Name) asked softly, finally speaking to the alpha who was quiet "we will see, we have things to do today" kaname was more concerned about (name) wandering off or getting lost, kaname especially wanted him away from that laito or Shu... They looked at (name) like he was meat.

(Name) hated attending events, keeping up appearances and such "well if you find a mate, maybe they will let you sleep the day away" he was told time and time again "lord Kaname seems to have taken a shine on you" Ruka's mom and (name) mother figure said as she fixed his clothes, dainty clothes for an Omega of his class and (name) tilted his head confused, it seemed that everyone but (name) knew of the Alpha boys of the families feelings towards (name) but himself.

"There's the Sakamaki boys here tonight, son... Do not stray" he urged seriously and (name) nodded as he fidgeted with his collar, worry flooding through his veins as he and his family entered the Kuran manor and all eyes were on him. A male Omega?

Alphas and betas alike wanted him, after all male Omegas were gifted with the ability to create pure bloods no matter what, he was the greatest tool.

But anyone who actually spoke to (name) would know he would be an absolute garbage parent.

"Ah, Mr. Souen!" Karlheinz Sakamaki, an alpha with a reputation that left people with a bad taste in their mouths, the Alpha seeming particularly interested in the Omega, a knowing look in his eyes "your children attend school with mine, yes? I hope you are all getting along well" his words though seemingly innocent were deceptive, seeing if they would cause problems for his sons "I know more purebloods can cause a rift..."

Of course the pureblood card.

A silent threat to not get in his precious pure blood sons way with (name).

(Name) was so tired, dancing and socializing as his friends dragged him around, seating himself in a forgotten corner as he tried to not pass out, maybe Kaname would let him take a nap...

"My my, leaving an unmated Omega alone like this~ fufufu~" (name) felt someone pull him close and looking to see Laito looking at him lustfully "you know it's dangerous to be left alone like this~"

"Where's your human? Shouldn't you be harassing her..." (Name) fired back, he didn't want to deal with this, he didn't need this right now...

"That feedung cattle? She isn't anything ~" he tried to get closer but (name) pushed him away "one would think you would know not to touch an unmarked Omega" (name) could feel himself growing more alert, almost as if the tiredness as seeping away from his bones, god he was hungry "but you let the... Lower bloods touch you, trust me I can touch you far better than them"

"(Name)? There you are" kaname seemed passive but a storm was brewing inside as he looked at Laito distastefully who in turn smirked as (name) stood up as kaname took his hand, the sakamaki not going down without a fight and followed them before taking (name)s arm and pulling him to the dancefloor as the two pure bloods glared at one another, the night class joining the dance and moving towards swiping (name) away.

[peachetteprice]

One of Those Nights | Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

If you were to tell any of Kyle's friends what your true, unabashed favourite thing about him was, like they always asked, of which you always answered with something plaintifuly vague about his smile or his kindness, they would have all ooh-ed and awh-ed like teenage girls on a school playground.

Because the truth, and nothing but, was that your favourite thing about him were the little grunts and groans he made into the pillows in the morning, splayed out on his stomach along white sheets, naked from the torso upwards.

On his days off, whenever you were the first to wake up - which surmounted to often if he had a tiresome night the previous evening - you would stretch out your shoulders, yawn, then lean to cement a kiss on his pouting lips, still half-asleep in the sheets. Only when his lips twitched in desperation for another kiss would you begin smoothing his back like anybody would to a napping baby.

He would never outwardly admit that he loved it - and how it reminded him of his mother's tender touch whenever he was upset as you child - but you didn't need to hear it to know that he did.

"Kyle?" You cooed.

One grunt. Short, somewhat breathless with the large expel of air from his throat.

"Morning, gorgeous." You sang, scratching your fingers through his scalp. It was the most amusing thing, how much of his innocence carried into the morning, despite the very real, tangible fact that he was cock-deep in your dripping cunt the evening prior, moaning such dirty somethings into your neck.

Another grunt, then, more of a groan. Longer and more relieved at the feeling of your nails dragging along his skin. His shoulder blades broadened with every intake of air, muscles flexing as he moved his palm from the sheets to expose your stomach beneath your shirt.

He let out a real groan, long, as his palm grazed your belly. Something that, if you squinted and put your ear right to his mouth, might have sounded like the foreign cousin of 'good morning', if you gave him the benefit of the doubt for his diction (and the poor smell of his morning breath).

"Are you gonna wake up? Thinkin' we could start on the kitchen this morning. Get that clean for when your friends come over tonight?"

Another grunt. A little peeved. He always had a bit of an attitude whenever he woke up. Too used to awaking from the pelt of distant gunfire interrupting his sleep, or a bucket of water doused on his head by whichever dickhead he had to share barracks with during his training days. You were, admittedly, a lot nicer to wake up to, still, but he couldn't help that his grumpy-pants were on and wouldn't come off until he'd gotten fed up of rolling around in the bedsheets.

Kyle stroked your belly at the same tempo as you did to his back, sighing into the sheets. "Don't wanna get up..." Were usually his first set of words, as they had been that day, usually only because you were still in bed, and if you were, so he was.

"Well, I'm gonna get up soon." You warned, leaning to smooch his head, ony for his hand to curl around your waist and grab at your flesh like it was a leash, begging you to stay.

"Mmnh." He flipped his head from left to right, eyes barely creening open with the minutest semblance of cognition. "No."

"I have to. I have things to do." You swept his hand from beneath your shirt. "Get up if you want to be beside me. You can join me in the kitchen."

Oh, but he did not like that.

He grumbled for a moment before thrusting his open palm down your pyjama trousers in a bid to tickle the gusset of your panties with his fingers.

"Hey! Kyle!" You pinched his neck, and he let out a drawling laugh.

"I want to touch you..." he whined.

"I'm not even... wet, Kyle. That won't be fun for either of us."

Another grunt; determined. "I'll make you wet, then."

And a finger dragged along the sensitive slit of your panties, right up to your clit. If you were in any other mind - any which rivalled the fact that his friends, his boys from the SAS, would be coming over and would be emphatically shocked at the state of your kitchen - then you might have entertained that cheeky grin of his. But you were not in that mind, so you plucked his hand out of your pyjamas and let it flop onto the sheets.

A sigh departed from your throat. "I'm going now, lovie."

And at that point, he could do nothing but relent, eventually pushing himself from the mattress to watch you saunter from the bedroom to the bathroom, dressed in his shirt - one of his proper dress shirts, now creased - buttoned just low enough to reveal the arch of your breasts.

And, bloody hell, dressed like that, it wasn't exactly his fault if he maybe, perhaps, just for a moment, caught the snake of your waist in the kitchen as you cleaned the crust from the inside of the microwave, dragged his stiff cock between your arsecheeks, and gruffed into your ear about how desperately he wanted to be tongue-deep in your cunt, only to pull you back to bed for one more teensy-weensy fuck before Soap, Price and Ghost arrived to ask, with much sincerity, why your cleaning products were still strewn about the kitchen so haphazardly.

| Masterlist |

[honeygrahambitch]

It's a sunny afternoon. Will is washing the dishes while Hannibal is organizing the food in the fridge. Their kitchen window is facing the front of the little house they rented, allowing Will to watch those who were passing by on the sidewalk.

"It's that dude again."

"Who, darling?"

"The one who is walking the border collie. Come here." He says and abandones the dishes as his eyes follow the particular individual. Hannibal is a bit surprised by Will's tone since it's not the usual "Come see this pretty dog". He walks next to Will and looks outside.

"The dog is limping." Hannibal observes and Will nodds.

The owner is a big guy, way taller than Will and maybe taller than Hannibal as well. He is wearing a black tank top which reveals some very well-defined muscles.

"I just don't have a good feeling about that guy." Will says as he shifts his attention back to the dishes and the running water.

"The dog could have stepped into something or been involved in a fight with other dogs. You cannot assume he is responsible for that."

"That is exactly why I need to look for more than assumptions." He says. The gut feeling he had been having was too hard to ignore anymore.

For the rest of the week Will leaves the house as soon as he sees the guy without saying a word. He tries not to be obvious about following him so he keeps a safe distance and makes sure to stop from time to time to "admire" flowers or birds in the trees. So far everything looks normal. Just a guy walking his limping dog. The only issue was that the limping was getting worse, indicating the fact that no one was taking care of that. By the end of the week Will starts believing that he had read too much into it.

That changes when a squirrel jumps from a brench, close to the sidewalk. The border collie starts barking, almost pulling the owner down, trying to chase the rodent.

The guy agressively pulls the leash and starts yelling. Will knows that is still not a good amount of evidence. Yelling like that at your dog is not a crime. Unfortunately.

All of a sudden, right in front of Will's eyes, the man slaps the dog's back so hard that the dog whimpers. Will sees fire.

He knows he shouldn't say anything. He knows he should go home and debate what to do next. But he decides to ignore all his rational thoughts.

"You are not supposed to hit your dog." He says sternly, closing the diatance between them.

"Mind your own business. It's my dog, I can do whatever I want."

"Looks like we will have a little disagreement."

When Will comes home later that day, Hannibal almost drops the vase his carrying. "Who did this?" He asks referring to Will's black eye.

He approaches him and gently turns his head to have a better look. It was an ugly bruise that someone would have to pay for.

"I was right. He is hitting his dog." Is all that Will says as he passes by Hannibal.

"Well, where is the body?" He asks as he goes to the kitchen to grab some ice for Will.

"I haven't killed him. We were outside, it was daylight, there were people around. I just wanted to confront him and I didn't see his fist coming. Thanks'." He says as Hannibal hands him the bag of ice. The cold feels good on the pulsating bruise that was threatening to swell.

"What is this really about , Will?" Hannibal asks as he is watching him, not trying to hide his concern.

"I miss my dogs. I see them in every dog." He says and stares at the floor. "I thought I had made peace with that."

"You are projecting."

"I see myself in that asshole too. I abandoned my dogs. How am I better?"

"Isn't your previous confrontation answering that question?"

He feels like a child who is bullied at school and is not capable of standing up to himself. But that was going to change.

"Tonight." He replies. "You don't have to join, I know it's not your type of pig."

"I disagree. Individuals who support animal cruelty are exactly my type of pigs." He says. "I wouldn't miss it for anything in the world."

"I know. You like to see me angry like that."

"Not only that. There is a certain wilderness in your eyes. Pleasure and drive. You are a force of nature, Will."

--

When they break in, he doesn't even hear them. He is watching football in the living room, making loud comments about the game. At some point he is so angry that he throws his beer bottle on the floor, causing it to break to pieces. Will realizes the neck bottle will make a great weapon and Hannibal recognizes that in his eyes.

Will steps into the living room casually as if it was his own.

"W-What are you doing here? GET OUT!"

"I'm here to finish the little disagreement we had today." He replies.

Will smiles and his eyes gleam just like Hannibal has mentioned earlier.

Hannibal watches Will grab the neck bottle and then fight the guy who is so much bigger than him. Blood is sprayed against the walls. He knows he could help but he also knows that it's something Will needs to do by himself.

He would have loved to make him suffer for bruising Will's eye. He tells himself he will feel better when he will be cooking him. He is debating which parts he should carve when Will is done.

The fight doesn't take too long. Even though Will is impulsive, his moves are very calculated. He had come a long way since they had killed Francis six months ago. He is just like a cat, swift and confident. Sure, there is blood all over his face and his eyes look hungry for justice, but there is something divine about that scene which Hannibal watches in awe.

"Feel free to grab anything you want" he tells him when he is done. He is panting heavily.

"We could grab a thing or two. This was a big pig."

Just as Hannibal pulls out his scalpel and sits on the floor, the limping border collie enters the living room, probably coming from his hiding spot.

"I hope I didn't scare you?" Will asks as he kneels on the floor and lets the dog smell his hand. He is friendly, as abused as he had been by his owner, he is waving his tail.

Hannibal is trying to take the liver out of the dead body while he is watching Will talking and playing with the dog. The blood thirsty Will from minutes ago was now a different person.

"Hannibal?" He calls him and smiles mischievously.

"Yes, you can take him home but I don't want to see him in my kitchen."

After all, Will had abandoned his own dogs to be with him. It's the least he could have done for him.