#& that is worth so much more. that means so much more than any pain

[munstysmind]

WARNING/S: non-con, rape, loss of virginity, rough sex, rough vaginal sex, rough oral sex, rough anal sex, unprotected sex, multiple men, blood, assault, abuse, slavery, trauma, threats of forced prostitution, mentions of kidnapping/abduction, mentions of death, mentions or murder, mentions of injuries, mentions of suicide. If I’ve missed anything, please let me know.

DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT

THIS IS A DARK FIC, DO NOT READ IF THIS TYPE OF CONTENT TRIGGERS OR OFFENDS YOU.

You and you alone are responsible for what you choose to consume online.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE USED IN ANY CAPACITY

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Thank you to @dragonsneversharetheirtreasure for being my ideas gremlin, and @themaradwrites for beta-ing. This wouldn’t have been written without your help.

MAIN MASTERLIST

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CH. 1 - THEIR REWARD

{54 BC}

Her heart pounds in her chest as she slowly walks down the hall towards the man she despises more than anything in this world.

Dominus Julius Fabius. Her owner. Her master.

She wishes she could stick him in the neck with a dagger and watch him bleed to death, just like all the men he condemns when he forces them into the arena.

He’s pure evil.

The kind of evil Orcus uses to make an example of. The God of punishment and the Underworld is going to have fun with her master when he passes into the afterlife.

She’s lost count of how long it’s been. Five years? Probably more, if she’s being honest with herself. She doesn’t even know who she is anymore.

Except her name.

Amina.

To everyone around her, she’s a thing. An object meant to do as she’s told. No exceptions.

She runs her finger along the cold iron bolted around her neck, her slave collar.

Thirty coins. That’s what he paid for her. She didn’t know you could put a price on someone’s life but that’s what hers was worth, thirty whole coins.

“There you are girl” he growls as he grabs her wrist tightly and drags her towards a door at the end of the hall “I’m in a right mind to give you a lashing for making me wait”

“I’m sorry, they… they wanted to make sure everything was perfect” she mumbles, keeping her eyes on the floor to help hide her tears as she recalls the looks of pity on the faces of the women who got her ready.

She knows they know what her Master’s plans are, and she suspects the reason they took so long was to keep her from her fate for as long as they possibly could.

“I don’t care. Those fighters in there won me a lot of denarii today. You’re going to let them do whatever they want to you. All. Night” her master tells her, getting so close to her she can feel his warm, vile breath across her face.

“I… I’ve never…” she stammers, her eyes going wide as she realises what he’s saying.

“I know. I know you’ve never laid with a man before, they checked you when I brought you. That’s why I chose you” he says, a smirk spreading across his face. “Maybe I should put you in the Lupanar and whore you out after they’ve broken you in. Gods know you’d make me a fortune”

It takes everything in her not to turn and run as fast as she can as she swallows down the bile rising in her throat.

It would be pointless though, there’s guards everywhere. She wouldn’t make it to the end of the hall before they caught her. She’d be guaranteed a lashing too, a public one at that. Just like Vesta.

“I mean it girl. You’re theirs tonight. I don’t care if it hurts… in fact, I want it to. A lot” he whispers, pulling out a small dagger and cutting one of the shoulders of her dress, exposing her breast.

He runs the dagger tip over her nipple, pressing it into the sensitive bud until it breaks the skin, making her let out a small whimper of pain.

“If you resist, or put up a fight, you’ll be punished, and it’ll be much worse than what they’re going to do” he growls before pushing her into the room.

She can’t help but flinch as the large wooden door is slammed in her face, the echo of the metal latch being closed ringing in her ears.

She just stands there, staring at it as she takes shuddery breaths.

She knows what’s about to happen. What she’s about to go through. And there’s nothing she can do about it.

She’s trapped.

Locked in a room with three blood covered fighters.

Their reward for winning their master 5000 coin.

She’s their prize.

“Turn around” a deep voice commands, making her jump.

She closes her eyes, praying to the Gods that she wakes up from this nightmare as she slowly turns around.

She sees the man the voice belongs to and her breath catches in her throat as she fights back tears.

He’s the one who killed her brother.

Champion gladiator August.

“Name” he growls, slowly approaching her with a look similar to the lions in the arena before they attack.

“Am… Amina” she stammers, stumbling back against the door as he towers over her.

She can smell death on him. The twang of iron, of blood. Was it her brothers?

Her stomach churns at the thought and she wants to be sick.

“Amina” he repeats “honest, faithful. Beautiful name for a beautiful woman”

Under any other circumstance she might have smiled and thanked him for his compliment, just like she was taught, but not this time. She just can’t.

“I like to know their names before I take what I want” he tells her with a smirk.

He remembers them, every name. All the women he’s taken this way. Amina’s the latest entry on his ever growing list.

He grabs her dress and tears it off her body, letting the fabric crumple to the floor.

She instinctively tries to cover herself, but he stops her, prying her hands away from her body before grasping her breasts and squeezing.

A grin spreads across his face as he continues to grope her, pinching and rolling her nipples tightly between his fingers, making her whimper in pain.

The noise makes him let out a low growl from deep in his chest and his eyes go dark, almost black.

Before she can fully register what’s happening, he grabs her by the back of her neck and yanks her towards the small table on the other side of the room, forcing her onto her back.

He takes her legs behind the knees and pushes them open, exposing her to not only him, but the other two men in the room who are now standing behind him and looking over his shoulder.

Her stomach churns as she stares at the ceiling, her face burning with embarrassment as she tries to think of anything to distract her from the way he’s inspecting her.

She bites back a whimper as he touches her, his fingers playing with her most intimate area before spreading it open.

He lets out a satisfied hum, a smirk spreading across his face when he sees she’s intact, just like their Master promised.

“I’ve never had a pure one before” he says, to no one in particular as he pinches the small bundle of nerves above her opening, making her gasp loudly.

“They’re my favourite. Oh, the noises they make” one of the other men says excitedly, much to August’s annoyance.

“She’s mine, Lloyd” he growls, glaring at the man before turning his attention back to her, really looking at her for the first time since she entered the room.

And as much as she tries to look away, to look anywhere but the face of the man that’s about to brutalise her, she can't. Her green, terror filled eyes just stare at him, transfixed.

He’s seen her eyes, and that look, before. He knows he has. There’s something so familiar about them and it takes him a minute to place it. The man he killed in the arena a mere hours before. Her brother.

“You’ve got his eyes” he tells her before turning his gaze back between her legs.

She’s so caught up in the flood of emotions at what he just said that she doesn’t notice his finger pushing into her until it’s too late.

She lets out a loud yelp at the sudden pain between her legs, her body instinctively trying to close her legs and move away from the beast of a man in front of her.

He lets out an angry growl and yanks her up by her arm, turning her around and bending her over the table with so much force all the air leaves her lungs when her chest makes contact with the wooden surface.

“Don’t move” he growls, kicking her legs apart with his feet.

She grips the edge of the table, so tightly her fingers hurt, as tears well in her eyes. She prays the talk of his stamina is wrong, that it will be over quickly.

But it won’t.

When he’s done with her, there’s two more waiting.

And they have her all night…

The sound of his armour dropping onto the ground behind her makes her heart pound.

It’s happening.

Right now.

She squeezes her eyes shut, trying her best to relax when she feels him prod at her again, but it doesn’t matter.

He snaps his hips forward and tears into her with force, pulling a scream of pain from her that makes him grin.

In all the beatings she’s gotten over the years, she’s never felt pain like this.

It’s like a searing hot poker being forced into her over and over as she’s split in two.

The tears in her eyes escape and spill onto the table as he thrusts into her, over and over and over again. It feels like the more she cries, the harder his thrusts become.

“Best one I’ve had yet” he grunts as he lays over her, pressing her against the table with his full body weight, and starts grinding into her, moaning loudly in her ear.

He’s enjoying this, getting pleasure out of hurting her. How can he not? He’s a sadistic bastard!

Little does she know she’s not the first woman he’s forced himself into. It’s the whole reason he’s stuck fighting in that gods forsaken arena in the first place. And unless he dies there, she won’t be the last.

“You’re mine now, gonna take you like this whenever I want” he pants, making her let out a loud sob at the thought of him doing this to her over and over.

It all becomes too much and her stomach churns as bile rises in her throat, burning it as she chokes and coughs it up.

His moans start becoming louder as he ruts into her hard, his hips slamming her body into the table over and over and over.

“Oh Gods!” he roars, moaning loudly as his hips stutter then still before he thrusts into her as hard as he can, filling her with a strange warmth.

He says something to her, but she doesn’t hear a word of it, unable to hear anything except the loud ringing in her ears.

She lets out a loud whimper as he pulls out of her before kneeling and pushing her legs wider, smirking at the blood mixed with his spend dripping out of her.

He catches some with his fingers and pushes them inside her, forcing it back into her as she lies on the table, her entire body shaking and twitching from shock as she takes shallow, gasping breaths.

“My turn” the second of the men says, all but pushing August out of the way before grasping her by her hair and pulling her to her feet, making her cry out.

He pushes her to her knees, making quick work of removing his armour as she glances behind him at August drinking wine from a goblet and sees the size of him for the first time, enough to make Priapus himself blush.

She looks back at the second man, terror spreading through her yet again as she comes face to face with his member.

She can’t tell if he’s bigger, but it doesn’t matter. He’s going to defile her the same way August did without a care for her.

He hooks his finger into her mouth and forces it open before pushing himself in until she starts to gag.

He holds onto the sides of her head and starts thrusting, hitting the back of her throat with each snap of his hips.

A smirk spreads across his face as he moves one of his hands to the back of her head and forces her down onto him, deep throating her.

He holds her there, moaning at the feeling of the muscles in her throat squeezing him as she chokes.

“We can’t kill her, Lloyd” August warns as she starts scratching at his legs, trying desperately to get air.

He lets out a growl as he pulls himself out of her mouth and slaps her hard across the face before grabbing it and pulling her to her feet.

“You’re going to pay for that” he hisses, manhandling her onto the small bed in the corner of the room.

He climbs on after her, roughly pulling her hips up and slamming into her from behind.

“Gods, I’ve not taken a woman this good in years” he moans, throwing his head back and gripping her hips tightly as he thrusts hard, spurred on by her cries.

“I wonder if her other hole’s just as good?” August says with a smirk, leaning against the table he just had her bent over.

“Let’s find out” Lloyd replies, spitting on her ass. He pulls out and lines himself up with her tiny puckered hole before pushing himself into her, moaning loudly at the muscles squeezing him tightly in an attempt to force him out.

She lets out a shriek of pain, her body going rigid as she tries, and fails, to get away from the man violating her in a way she didn’t think was possible.

He lets out an evil laugh and pushes her face into the bed as he starts thrusting, going out of his way to hurt her as much as he can.

The noises leaving him as he uses her body for his pleasure are burned into her mind as she prays to the Gods to take her and put an end to the indescribable pain coursing through her body.

He looks down at where he’s thrusting in and out of her and smirks proudly at the sight of blood.

“It’s even better” he grunts to August, gripping her hips so tightly his nails break her skin.

“I’ll have to try it next” August says, slowly stroking himself as he watches Lloyd pound into the woman at their mercy over and over again, moaning to himself at the sound of her cries.

Lloyd lifts her hips higher, thrusting as hard as he can into her at the new angle, turning her cries into screams with every snap of his hip.

He lets out a long moan, throwing his head back as he cums hard, filling her with the same strange warmth August did.

“Gods, I’m doing that again” he pants as he slowly pulls himself out of her bloody back passage before slapping her ass, making her yelp as she collapses into the bed.

“You’ll get your chance. It’s your turn, Nick” August says, getting the attention of the third man standing on the other side of the room.

Until now, he’s not paid much attention to the events happening in the small room, trying to drown out her cries and think of anything other than what he wants to do to her.

It’s wrong, he knows it’s wrong, but he doesn’t care. He wants her. And it’s his turn to take her.

He slowly walks towards her, removing his armour as he does before gently turning her over and climbing into the bed.

“No more… please” she begs quietly as he spreads her legs with his knees and settles between them.

Asking for mercy is useless, she knows that. All she is to them is an object to seek pleasure from, to defile.

The only thing she can do is close her eyes and brace herself for the pain as he slowly pushes in, a long moan leaving him as he fills her.

But when he starts to move, the pain doesn't come.

She opens her eyes and stares at him, confused, and scared, by what she's feeling.

Why doesn’t it hurt?

Why is it so different?

Why does it feel… nice?

“Gods” she gasps, her eyes fluttering shut as he starts to speed up, letting out a moan that drowns out the one that slips past her lips.

She has no idea what he’s doing differently to August and Lloyd but she prays he keeps doing it because it feels good, amazing even.

Her mind races as she tries to understand what’s happening. Why does she feel bad, so embarrassed and ashamed, when what’s happening right now feels so good?

He moves his hips faster, harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room as he gropes one of her breasts before pinching her nipple hard, pulling another moan from her.

He slowly glides his hand up her chest to around her neck, squeezing the sides. The sudden restriction of air makes her panic and start clawing at his hands, making him squeeze even more.

Her eyes roll back as a weird pressure builds between her legs, making whatever he’s doing to her feel even better.

It suddenly breaks, making her moan loudly as a pleasant burning sensation washes over her, before everything goes black…

VENERIS FILIA TAG LIST: @dragonsneversharetheirtreasure @themaradwrites @secretaryunpaid @pixie88 @aussieez @identity2212 @fanfics-r-us-official @km-ffluv @ktficworld @sillyrabbit81 @juliaorplI78 @kingliam2019 @thebejeweledwatercat @red-write-hand @queenzee27 @therockandaroll

#munstysmind #veneris filia #veneris filia original series #dark fic #gladiator au #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #dark henry cavill #dark august walker #gladiator august walker #dark gladiator august walker #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #dark chris evans #dark lloyd hansen #gladiator lloyd hansen #dark gladiator lloyd hansen #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #dark sebastian stan #dark nick fowler #gladiator nick fowler #dark gladiator nick fowler

[dykelips]

steddie — friends with benefits to lovers drabble

"i just wanna find someone who calls me baby"

rating — teen & up. | tags — fwb to lovers, roommates au, everybody lives/nobody dies, gay steve, gay eddie, mutual pining, friends to lovers, love confessions, angst and hurt/comfort, friends with benefits.

steve's never really had self control. he's never had any when it came to several instances—calling jonathan byers a queer, kissing tommy on a drunken night when he was 15, going straight into an alternate dimension, facing billy hargrove and getting his ass beat, or even telling robin he has feelings for her, soon to find out she's a lesbian, and that he himself is a gay man.

steve's self control surely didn't exist the day steve proposed an... idea to eddie—a no attachment, friends with benefits who bang and get it out of their system type of deal. they're already best friends, deeply bonded from the whole vecna ordeal, so what harm could this do to them?

and now that steve thinks about it, it didn't do a small amount of harm, it practically ruined steve. he fell for eddie, and he's not sure eddie feels the same way.

steve broke his own rule. he found himself attached to eddie, thinking about eddie, talking only about eddie, being in love with eddie.

after steve comes home to their apartment and sees eddie making out with someone on their couch, he starts an argument. he doesn't own eddie, they aren't dating, and eddie's a grown man who can do whatever he wants, but seeing someone else other than himself lay their lips onto eddie's and kiss him, that really starts something inside of steve.

he can practically feel all of the months worth of collected feelings and thoughts bubbling up inside of him and almost spilling out over the sides the second eddie says what he says.

"we're just friends. we're friends, steve. you're you, and i'm me, and that's it," eddie says, arms crossed over his chest, hiding himself away and trying to tuck himself together.

"friends!? fucking—fucking friends, eddie? that's what we are? friends don't do the things we do."

steve scoffs and looks directly at eddie, face going red with anger and a mix of pain inside of him.

eddie looks down, lips pulled into a thin line, eyes downturned and hair hanging down around him, shielding him like a cave hidden behind a waterfall.

"yes, harrington. friends," eddie breathes out, head snapping up. "you act like you want me to say that we're more than that, but you're not into me. you just want to fuck me and act like nothing happened. i can't deal with that. i need someone who loves me, who tells me they need me and will take care of me and isn't disgusted or annoyed by me. that's what i need, not a fuck-buddy."

steve sputters and reaches his hands out, mentally saying fuck it and telling eddie how he really feels.

"eddie, jesus christ! i'm in love with you! i've been in love with you since you woke up from that goddamn coma last year."

eddie's eyes go wide, comically large and round, looking like bambi. he really fucking loves him.

"stop messing around, man."

steve shakes his head, not letting eddie dismiss him and believe it's just some sick joke that he's playing on him.

"why would i lie about loving you, eddie? everything i've done, it's all because of you. do you really think i would tell you this and compromise our friendship if i didn't feel just like i'm telling you now?"

eddie's mouth opens and closes like a dead fish, and he finally shuts it fully. "i, i don't—"

"if you don't love me back, that's okay. i just had to tell you, eds. you don't understand how much you mean to me," steve confesses, lips pulled into an apologetic smile. he goes and turns to walk out the door of their apartment,

eddie shoots out his arm, hand grabbing onto steve's forearm, squeezing, trying to stop him from leaving. "steve! fuck, i love you, too! i do, i really, really do. and, look, i didn't know how to tell you, because you're always being so frustratingly you, clearly not understanding all the hints i've dropped, trying to signal that i've been in love with you for months, too."

eddie licks his lips and his eyes seem to plead.

"really?" steve asks, hope bubbling up inside of him.

he nods, hair shaking around. "yeah, stevie. cross my heart and hope to die. i mean it. swear on it, even."

steve smiles at that.

"swear on what, exactly?" he knows the line he's crossing, and if eddie says what steve thinks he'll say, then steve knows it's true.

"on my guitar. my sweetheart. you know the one. i swear on her," eddie tells him, eyes flipping down to steve's lips and back up to meet his eyes.

"that's a big swear, munson. might need you to kiss me to prove it," steve teases, stepping in closer to eddie's bubble, noses almost touching.

eddie grins, wider that steve has seen for as long as he can remember. "i can do that."

he certainly swears on his guitar if the kiss that they shared proves anything.

whoops i suck at endings and writing in general, but this has been stuck in my head and i felt like trying to write. here it is. love you xx

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #gay steve harrington #gay eddie munson #fic #drabble #ao3 fanfic #friends with benefits to lovers #fwb #fwb fic #friends to lovers #mutual pining #angst and hurt/comfort #roommates au #and they were roommates #love confessions #Spotify

[saschax]

metamorphosis

(n) a change of the form or nature of a thing or person into a completely different one

TRIGGER WARNINGS: death (described in detail), violence (acts such as killing and torture), grief and loss (protagonist experiences), suicidal ideation (thinking suicide)

please keep in mind this is my first post, and english is not my native language, i speak German. feel free to correct me if any errors is made in the story.

P.S i try to make ghost canon as much as possible, but i dont really know the story so i put a lot of research.

ghost felt himself as if he died completely, his heart stopped working when he witnessed johnny, died. making his soul even heavier, being weighed down by grief.

he wasn't always like this, full of hatred, anger, regret, and remorse. he wasn't always baring his teeth like a cornered stray dog. he didn't always have bloodshot eyes looking for a way out, but never could find a way.

he wasn't always like this, he used to be happy, loving, kind, talkative.

until his family died.

until he was tortured, buried alive with his dead teammate.

until he learned how to kill.

until he lost two friends: roach, and johnny.

ghost hated roach, but at the same time, loved him.

ghost hated the fact that roach saw the wounded and scared animal behind his gnashing teeth, hated him for showing him what it feels like to be held again, to show him how love and companionship feels.

the concept of being held was so strange to him, a language he couldn't understand until roach showed him.

but ghost loved the feeling of companionship, he found warmth in it. he found joy in it, he felt.. seen, roach saw more in him than just a convenient tool for him to have.

ghost's heart fluttered when roach placed all of his trust in him, ghost felt held, and ghost had someone to run to.

it all came crashing down.

roach was shot, the bullet struck his heart directly, blood pouring out rapidly.

ghost, being there, tried his best to help- he cried tears, something he'd never do for a friend, panicked and did everything he can.

roach was dying, gasping mouthful of air, trying to stay alive.

he couldn't stop roach from bleeding or stop the cardiac arrest.

roach was dead, laid in his pool of blood and- and- ghost- he- he failed.

he failed miserably. broke his own promise to himself, a promise that was meant to save roach.

and no matters how many times he assaulted the walls, cried his heart out, no matter how many-

roach, is not coming back. and ghost, failed to save him.

what good is he if he fucking failed to save his friend?

no wonder he couldn't save his own family, he's useless. he's not good at protecting, he doesn't know how. only thing he knows like the back of his hand is to kill.

and when roach died, roach mercilessly chewed his walls, stole his hopes, his joy, and his happiness, with him before going to heaven or God-know where he is.

ghost screamed, and snarled like some sort of a feral dog, begging for roach to give him his other half back- his hopes, his joy back. clawing at the surface, just give it back..

all ghost has is just half of him, the half that is cruel, mean, full of darkness, its all he have.

roach gave him a lesson, a lesson that meant friends are not worth the pain. roach gave him eyes that seen too much, and made ghost hopeless, hardening his shell.

ghost cannot let the same thing happened to him- he can't go through hell and back again. ghost knows he deserved it but its hurt, its hurt so much.

if ghost could go back in time and change the clock, he would. he would let roach's friendship go unanswered. he should've never welcomed in the companionship, the happiness, the pain was too much.

it made ghost felt cornered, deaths, unhappiness, regret, and hatred surronding him. mocking him. he can't escape them.

every time he loves something, death come.

every time he found happiness, something terrible happens.

every time.. history kept repeating themselves over and over and over again, it have ghost's head reeling.

ghost keep running and running, but they always seem to catch up to him. ghost keep scratching the black surface in futile hopes of clawing his way out.

he always seems to be standing on the dark side, all alone. and he gets envious of people who is happy, having a good life, a life he never had.

roach never deserved the death, if anything, roach deserved to live and died of old age.

ghost should've been the one shot, it better anyway because it would've end ghost's misery, it would've break his unhappiness streak because dying seems to be the only happy option he have in his hands.

then soap came into his life, and again, he felt a flicker of hope.

he knows this all too well, history is about to repeat itself.

but as the time turned into weeks, then months- nothing happened. sure, there was chaos, deaths all around them, but soap didn't die yet, surprisingly.

roach and soap was so similar, but at the same time, so glaringly different.

ghost saw roach in soap, of course they were two different beings but still.

just when ghost started becoming closer with.. with johnny, his walls slowly crumbling, letting johnny in.

maybe johnny could change his destiny of being alone.

and ghost fell.

ghost tried his hardest to try and hold onto johnny's hands, but ghost felt his hands gotten sweaty, accidentally letting johnny's fall into another realm.

ghost shouted his name when he saw johnny dead on the ground, kneeling beside him. ghost's wounds reopened, he wanted to tear his heart out.

he failed.

again.

he seemingly can't shed a tear, it was like his mind already knew what was going to happen, but ghost was too busy staring at the light, admiring it before it faded, leaving him alone in the dark.

ghost's soul feels missing, like all of him is gone.

roach took half of him, and now johnny took the other, or well, what left. the two left ghost scrambling for his lost self, on the ground trying to pick himself together but he can't.

they stole it from him, hid it from him somewhere he will never find.

he returned to his room, seeing a gun on his desk.

oh, how easy it would to kill himself right now.

but he can't.

he tried before, could never pulled the trigger. every time he tried, it felt like his fingers went through it.

the death of johnny made price scrambling to find new blood into the team, trying to fill the void, a 3-man team won't work considering their sort of operations.

ghost laughed hollowing, no one could replace johnny or roach for that matter, even if the two stole his soul and his bleeding, wounded heart.

ghost still love them, and he's going to honor their memories the only way he knows how.

continue the fight they started, until he dies or win the war.

maybe..

maybe he was meant to be alone angry confused angry sad alone regret grief alone with no one to turn or run to.

maybe he's not supposed to have someone.

#simon ghost riley #gary roach sanderson #john soap mactavish #john price #ghost cod #roach cod #soap cod #price cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #task force 141 #call of duty modern warfare

[andthebeanstalk]

ur post about queerbaiting and the dismissal of people in fandom to critical analysis is so incredibly true thank you. i feel like marcille's writing in the anime has been super misogynistic a lot of the time and every time i bring this up all anyone wants to say is "well maybe this isn't for you! and you shouldn't watch the show!" like. i don't think this is about taste lmao, i am analyzing the text in front of me and coming to conclusions about the craft of it.

[This is in reference to this post]

YES!!! THANK YOU!!!!!

It is so so frustrating!!!!

It's like being at a restaurant and being served a bunch of delicious appetizers, but then one of the bread appetizers is literally just a plate of crumbs; and then when you're like, "Hey, uhh, why are we being served literal crumbs?", a bunch of the other folks eating at the restaurant are like,

"WELL HOW ABOUT YOU JUST DON'T EAT HERE THEN??!? YOU MUST NOT BE THAT HUNGRY, SO JUST FIND ANOTHER RESTAURANT AND DON'T EAT WITH US!!"

And maybe they say it politely, but "Aw, sorry, maybe this restaurant just isn't for you 💖" is just trading out an aggressive dismissive tone for a patronizing dismissive tone. It's the same message.

And it's like! I was honestly happy to move on from the crumbs once my complaint was acknowledged because the meal overall is still delicious, but then all these folks got SUPER WEIRD AND DEFENSIVE ABOUT IT, so now I find myself double-checking all the other dishes -- and, actually, you know what those eggs DO look a Iittle misogynistic undercooked!!!!

#original #queerbaiting #dunmeshi #dungeon meshi #falin x marcille #marcille x falin #marcille donato #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi marcille #listen i like marcille but u r right she is basically there to be a wet blanket a LOT of the time and that is a sexist trope #i think the bar is super super low for female characters in adventure anime and the lack of constant ogling maybe makes the female #characters feel better written than they are. i mean falin basically has no personality. she's got an innocent heart but that's nothing. #and i think these conversations are worth having bc no piece of media is perfect and this is how we learn to do better #also like. I've seen media criticisms that make me go 'oh you straight up should reserve commentary bc you #haven't watched the show and you're wrong' or 'i see what you're saying but you are simply incorrect' but like #i don't think I'd tell someone to just NOT watch Hazbin Hotel bc they have a bad take - and certainly not bc they have accurately #pinpointed a real flaw about the show (of which there are more than a few but frankly not what became the biggest subject of Disc Horse) #Angel is actually an amazing character & i think people mistook a criticism on the way abuse is glamourized as actually glamourizing abuse #like his song about abuse is called Poison and he's trapped in an abusive performance contract - bringing to mind Britney Spears #i think it is a wildly triggering and painful scene but i think a lot of people took the pain it gave them to mean it was bad art #but tbh they are still allowed to eat at the table if they so choose!!! #sorry i got sidetracked - as an abuse survivor Angel just matters a lot to me. i have a couple serious criticisms of vivziepop's work but #Angel is very much not one of them #also in regards to the actual subject of this post i think the most audacity of the responses i got was the one that said #that by complaining about queerbaiting I was 'de-incentivizing writers to write any interaction b/t women that could look even a little gay #and I'm just like. good. I hope they stop writing entirely. if the takeaway from 'please don't sell me bread and then serve me crumbs' is #'WELL NOW I JUST WON'T BAKE ANY BREAD PRODUCT' then that person is a bad chef. they should find a different job. #or at least do a whole lot of work on themselves. but either way i wouldn't be too broken up to know i won't be getting any food from them. #'just leave then' is so obviously a gut reaction defense mechanism & it implies media criticism should only be for things you don't like

[sylvies-chen]

I think there’s something so deeply and intimately and morbidly true about The Last of Us’s primary thesis which is that humanity’s fatal flaw, in that very Shakespearian way, is that we are destined to care too much about one another so much so that we discard the collective entirely. like we have such a capacity to love the human race and humanity as a whole, to grow our communities and govern cities how we know best and foster such connection with the masses which we are part of, but it’s overtaken by our capacity to love even just a single other person. like one human can come into your life that creates such an intrinsic and passionate love in you— or maybe two people or a family’s worth or any small number— and you suddenly would burn entire villages down just to keep them safe.

joel doesn’t blink twice murdering to find ellie. he doesn’t look back when he decides to do what he does at the hospital later on. he has no remorse about any of it it, because this one girl has grown to mean more to him than any possible greater good could ever mean. and it’s reciprocal. ellie would— and does— do anything she can to help him, save him, protect him, and, eventually, to avenge him. because that’s what you do when you love someone. not when you love people. when you love someone.

and it’s selfish, in a way??? because we love these people and would do so much for them because they mean more to us than other strangers do. it’s exactly like an iteration of the trolley problem, actually. one track has your daughter on it and one track has fifty people. don’t even try telling me you wouldn’t go onto track B if it meant saving your daughter and her puppy dog eyes from the whimpering and pain and fear. The Last of Us says yes, you would. I would. we all would. and like yeah that is our greatest weakness, that we have such a unique ability to love a handful of people so deeply that our compassion towards community and strangers and the bigger collective starts to slip from view. but goddamn what a fucking great fatal flaw it is to have. we are all going to die and the world will burn because we loved another person too much.

#i wrote a poem about this #idk if i should post it bc i dont want to risk someone stealing it #but yeah… this concept has me really thinking #the last of us #the last of us hbo #hbo the last of us #tlou hbo #hbo tlou #tlou #the last of us spoilers #tlou spoilers #joel miller #ellie williams #joel and ellie

[goodbird1]

My firecracker

Alastor x fem reader

Word count: 634

Summary: Charlie learns about Alastor wife.

Warnings: mention of death and murder (please tell me if I miss any)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🌹🥀🌹~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alastor stood on a balcony overlooking the city. The hotel was celebrating for some reason or another he didn't particularly care. Reaching into his coat pocket he pulled out a locket. Unclasping it reveals an image of a woman.

“I thought doing this would make me feel better in some way, or at least dull the pain for the time being” Alastor began, looking down at the locket. “It was foolish of me to think that would happen. It's happening all over again, and I don't think I have a chance to see you again.”

Tears started swelling in his eyes. Quickly pulling out a handkerchief and wiping them away.

“You know I always took you as someone who likes entertainment and parties are pretty entertaining” Charlie said coming out on the balcony.

“Oh I'm just getting some fresh air, it's far too stuffy in there” Alastor replied, shoving the locket back in his coat. Not before Charlie notices.

“What's that?” Charlie said, reaching out.

Instinctively Alastor slapped Charlie's hand away, holding the locket even closer now. Towering over her with a cruel look on his face, he saw the fear in her eyes. Normally he'd relish in it but this was no sight he wanted to see on charlie. Signing he pulled out the locket again shifting it through his fingers.

“My apologies dear,” he said, turning back to the city. “I didn't mean to snap, it's a locket with my wife's photo in it, it's the only thing I have left of her.”

“You never told me you were married,” Charlie said, coming to Alastor's side.

“I don't much like to talk about it” Alastor signed.

“Can I ask, what was she like?” Charlie questioned.

“Oh she was wonderful” He began. “She was a firecracker, always 3 steps ahead of everyone. Beat you in any game and once you thought you had the upper hand she'd pull the rug right out from your feet. She was kind and considerate, and believed in second chances. She'd taught me that. And oh she could sing like an angel. I would play the piano, she would sing and the world would fade away.”

“She sounds amazing, you know maybe if you redeem yourself you can see her again in heaven!”

“Haha oh darling, anybody worth knowing comes down here!” Alastor said between laughs. “She would always tell me she would rather burn in hell with me than sit alone in heaven. Did you know that our fathers decided to put us together to ‘contain our unnatural behavior’? And she came up with a plan to kill both our families and then burn the evidence! Oh it was then I knew she was the one.”

Memories started flooding back when they were both alive and then both died. But this time they didn't hurt so much now.

“What happened to her?” Charlie asked, bring Alastor back to reality.

“The first or the second time?” Alastor joked trying not to spiral.

“Both?” She whispered hesitantly.

“The first time she was in a tree, mistaken for a bird and shot down the fall was what killed her. The second time…” Alastor choked clutching the locket for dear life. Clearing his voice he started again. “Well you don't make it as far as I have without making a few enemies. They sent her back in pieces.”

“That's awful!” Charlie exclaimed.

“No need to worry they won't hurt anyone now.” Signing, he stepped away from the edge. “Come on dear, let's join the party.”

“Hey Al, can I ask one more thing?”

“And what would that be?”

“Do you think she would have liked the hotel?”

Turning fully around to face Charlie. A kind smile across his face with a hand reaching out for her.“Oh she would love it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🌹🥀🌹~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#alastor #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #hasbin hotel #x reader fic #fanfic

[candy69gurl]

INSUBORDINATION

PAIRING Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

SYNOPSIS The reader, a young woman of wealth, is married to Toji and consistently treats him as her servant, much to his dismay. Fed up with her behavior, Toji resolves to teach her a lesson.

WARNING non/con, brat taming, spitting, face fucking, hair pulling, spanking, face slapping, fingering, nipple play, missonary, bondage (hands tied only), cock riding, squirting, doggy style, multiple orgasms, degradation, use of vulgar words (dog, bitch, slut, whore, cum slut), humiliation, raw sex (cumming inside mouth, creampie, face cumming), breeding kink, clit slapping & rubbing, man handling

Marrying this seemingly charming and powerful Toji Fushiguro, you believed it imparted a greater benefit upon him than it did upon yourself. His overwhelming infatuation for you was not reciprocated, and instead, you treated him more as a pet than a partner. As a young, rich woman with an air of superiority, you demanded his obedience and submission, constantly reminding him of his place. You were unaware of the brewing storm inside him, waiting to unleash its fury upon you. Little did you know, the love and adoration he had for you were a ticking time bomb about to go off. The way he was treated drove him insane, pushing him to the brink of insanity, and he couldn't take it anymore.

"Hmm, so.. Toji I would like to talk to you, my dear", your eyes never leaving your nails.

Toji glares at you, his eyes smouldering with rage and lust stored inside him. Despite his inner turmoil, he forces a smile and responds, "My lady, I am here." His voice drips with false sincerity, reflecting the pain within him. It's clear that every moment spent serving you gnaws at his soul, fueling his desire to teach you a lesson you will never forget. Yet, he can't let you sense his true intentions - not yet.

He waits patiently, his muscles tensing beneath his clothes, as he anticipates your command. His heart pounds wildly against his chest, and his mind racing with thoughts of revenge and domination. He knows that he's about to snap anytime.

"I need you to stop wasting my money on gambling", your gaze finally shifts from your nails to Toji, who's standing before you with his head bowed.

A chill runs down Toji's spine as he hears your words. Your demand has cut him deeper than any blade could, igniting a firestorm of emotions within him.

How can he possibly stop himself from doing that? It's his sole means of earning money for himself. And it's not like he constantly relies on your finances for that. But the way you phrased your money, it really struck a nerve and left him feeling utterly humiliated. He understood that you were implying he should beg you for money, but that's something he would never do.

He tries to maintain his composure, swallowing the bitter taste that filled his mouth. With a stiff nod, he replies, "As you wish, my lady. I shall cease all gambling activities and dedicate myself entirely to your needs. But I would like you to stop ordering me around"

"Excuse me? who do you think you are?", one of your eyebrows raised, utterly confused by his sudden back-talk.

Toji's eyes flash with defiance, and his voice take on a dangerous edge, "I am your husband, a man scorned and abandoned. I have given you everything I have, my love, my heart, my trust. Yet, I receive nothing in return. I am sick of being treated like a mere toy. My passion for you burns like a thousand suns, and it is time you recognized my worth!" His face contorts with rage and hurt, his entire body trembling with suppressed power. "Do not mistake my patience for weakness, for I am far from it. One day, you will learn the consequences of disregarding those who truly care for you."

Your countenance remain devoid of emotion as he uttered those words. Instead, you advance towards him, drawing nearer... and nearer... until you stand face-to-face. Despite his height advantage, you are aware of the superiority you hold.

In an instant, your hand delivers a sharp slap to his face, causing his head to jerk to the right. "How dare you talk to me like that?"

Your slap lands across Toji's cheek with a loud smack, jolting him back to reality. His eyes widen, shock etching lines onto his face. For a brief moment, he stand frozen, the sting of your hand burning a trail across his pale skin. Then, without warning, his expression twists into one of pure fury. In a single, fluid motion, he grabs your wrist and pins you on the ground.

"GET OFF ME YOU SICKO", you scream.

Toji snarls, his eyes blazing with a feral intensity. "No, little miss high-and-mighty, I decide when this ends. You've played your games, and now it's time to pay the price," he growls, his grip on your wrist tightening. He leans closer, his hot breath washing over your face as he whispers, "You thought I was weak and submissive, but you sorely underestimated me. I am a man consumed by desire and rage, and I will make you pay for your cruelty."

His other hand moves to fondle with your clothed breasts, "Coming to think of it.. I never touched.. Maybe tonight is the time .. I finally discover your secrets."

"Don't even think of it.. Move your filthy hands off me!!" your legs pushing his chest away from your body.

Toji's eyes narrow, his lips curling into a predatory smile. "Oh, I think I've already discovered your secrets, my dear. You're just as desperate for my touch as I am for yours. You can scream all you want, but no one will come to save you. You're mine, and I will have my way with you."

His grip on your wrist intensifies and he begins to move his hand lower, towards your thigh. "You've pushed me too far, and now it's time for you to learn a lesson you'll never forget. I'll make you beg for my touch, and when I'm done, you'll be mine completely."

"I should have kept a body guard..", your eyes get teary as you start feeling vulnerable. The thing that you hated the most.

Toji's eyes flicker with a hint of victory at your admission. "Yes, perhaps you should have," he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. "But it's too late now. There's no one coming to save you."

His fingers trail along the edge of your clothing, teasingly close to bare skin. "I plan to make it as painful and pleasurable as possible. You'll come to cherish these moments, begging for more, even as you curse my name."

His eyes gleam with malicious intent as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Every benefit you receive carries a price; for the service I've rendered you over the years, my dear wife, I require my due compensation. I'm not interested in payments via cheque, cash, or phone apps. I seek recompense through your body."

"I will never.. ever.. submit to you .. Toji Fushiguro..", you land kick on his side, attempting to run away from his grasp, yet he remains unaffected. He does grunt as your kick connected with his side, but he doesn't release you. Instead, he smirks, his gaze heated. "You.. Keep struggling, but you're only making this worse for yourself. Give in to me, let me show you the pleasure you've denied yourself for so long."

Slowly, he slides his hand underneath your clothing, his fingertips brushing against your skin unclasping your bra, taking it off you easily. You squirm beneath him, but his grip remains firm, unwavering.

"D-dont do it ..", you try squirming again.

Toji's lips twitch into a cruel grin. "Ah, but I must. After all, I promised to teach you a lesson, and I always keep my promises." His fingers continues their relentless exploration, caressing your nipple gently before pinching it firmly.

"Feel it, wife. Feel the pleasure I can give you, even as I punish you. Let your body betray your reluctance, let it crave what you claim to despise." He leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers, "And remember, this is all ya fault. You made me this way."

You buck beneath him, trying to escape his grasp, but his hold on you unyielding. He pushes your top up, yanking it off you, exposing your breasts.

"S-stop ..", your hands escapes his grip swiftly, trying to hide your bare chest from his monstrous gaze.

Toji's eyes roams over your exposed body hungrily, drinking in the sight of your exposedness for the first time. "Such beauty, wasted on someone like you..."

He reaches out, his finger trailing down your sternum, then moving to your neck, causing goosebumps to rise. Your hands pushing his face, gripping his hair, trying to yank him off you.. But everything fails. And you know if you try hitting him, it'll enrage him further. Your hits are nothing in comparison to the hits requried to knock this giant man down.

Toji chuckles darkly, his grip on you unbreakable. "You cannot escape me, my dear. Not tonight." His fingers dance lightly along your collarbone, tracing patterns that sent chills down your spine. "You wanted control, you craved dominance, and now you shall experience both in equal measure."

As his fingers reaches your breast, he gently slapped your hands and, cupped your breasts, squeezing slightly before letting go. His eyes sparkling with mischief as he watches you writhe under his touch. "Soon, you'll beg for more."

Refusing to yield, you remain steadfast in your refusal to submit to him. You attempt to land kicks once again, this time more haphazardly and with greater force.

Toji catches one of your legs easily, his eyes gleaming with a mix of anger and lust. "Keep struggling, wife. Make it harder on yourself." He responds, his voice thick with emotion. His gaze lingers on your body, taking note of every twitch and shiver.

With a swift movement, he rolls you onto your stomach, restraining your arms behind your back, squeezing your face on the ground. His veins bulged on his hands as he gripped your hair tightly, pressing your cheeks against the cold floor with force.

Toji smirked, enjoying the fight in you. He pressed his body against yours, his erection evident through his clothes. "What happened to the lioness?" he mocked. "Got defeated by a mere dog?"

He reaches for your hefty priced skirt, ripping it down, revealing your bare ass. His hand hovers over it for a moment before bringing it down, delivering a sharp slap. You cry out in surprise and pain, arching your back.

"Fuck you that dress's worth is more than yours", Toji's eyes fall on your reddened teary-face. He gazes for a while before laughing cruelly, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

"Is that all you can muster, a reprimand for my actions? I thought you'd beg for mercy by now." His hand falls again, this time harder, the sting of the slap searing through your body.

"You are tough I must say" He speaks, his voice dark and heavy with emotion. His eyes flash with mischief as he prepared for his next move.

"L-let me go now", your tone somehow shifts to a plea.

He looks down at your red, angry cheeks and puffy lips, his gaze shifting to your ass, the imprints of his five fingers are distinctly visible on your skin. "Shall I?"

"YOU WILL LET ME GO BASTARD i WILL KILL YOU," you yell at him, hating the way he was treating you, as if he owns you.

Toji pulls you up by your hair, leaning closer to your face, "Looks like you haven't learned your lesson yet. Need to shut that big mouth,"

You forcefully expel saliva from your mouth, deliberately directing it towards his face, "Never."

Toji's face flashes with a grin as he wipes off your spit from his face and licks his finger, his grip on your hair tightening. "Nasty bitch!" he snarls. His free hand frees his erection and you gasp on seeing how big he is. Big enough to nearly kill you.

"W-what the fuck do you think you are doing", you swallowed in anticipation.

Without responding, he pulls your mouth towards his erection, rubbing the tip on your swollen lips.

Your hands reach up to squeeze his shaft, intending to hurt him. Toji winces, his eyes flashing with pain and anger. "You really don't want to die, do you?" His voice shaking with fury as he grasps your wrists, locking them on either side of his legs, his precum leaking shaft rubbing against your cheek. "This is your punishment, and you're going to take it like a good girl."

Despite your resistance, he thrusts his erection into your mouth, forcing you to take him off. You could barely take in his entire length as drool cascades down your chin and your neck swells with every push. You struggle but he remains firm, so you use your teeth, nibbling on his dick.

Toji hisses in pain and anger, releasing you. "You fucking cunt! I should've known better." He slaps you, causing you to cry out in agony. "That's for biting me!" He grabs your hair again, pulling your head toward his dick and begins to thrust roughly.

"Hnghh-", tears stream down your cheeks, smudging your flawless makeup.

Toji's eyes squint seeing you cry, his lips curling up trying to hide his laugher. "Crying? That's cute. You're crying while servicing me!" His grasp on your head tightens as he keeps fucking your throat relentlessly. "Didn't think you could handle it huh? Too bad, because this is just beginning!"

Your eyes twitching in anger, you keep making noises of struggles.

Toji's thrusts increasing in speed. "Shut up, you ungrateful whore! This is what you deserve!" He slamms into you harder, ignoring your protests.

Why is he acting like that all of a sudden? You never thought the man you married is going to treat you like this. But yes karma, you have hurt him, you made him like this. HE IS RIGHT, you deserve this.

His grip tightened on your hair, his thrusts growing more violent until you screamed, tears streaming down your face. Finally, he cums, flooding your mouth with his seed. "Swallow it. I want to see your Adam's apple moving."

You involuntary swallow his seed. Toji stares at you, his breathing ragged, his eyes fixated on the sight of you swallowing his semen. "Good dog," he sneers, wiping his shaft clean.

You wipe your mouth weakly, "I will never forgive you. You are gonna face the consequences."

Toji chuckles coldly, releasing you. "Oh, the night just started.." He picks you up walking towards your bedroom.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT.. WE ARE DONE.. I AM GOING TO FUCKING DIVORCE YOU", you throw punches on his spine, your nails scratcing his clothed back.

Ignoring your threats, Toji places you on bed, tying your hands with his XXL tshirt to the headboard. His eyes glinting with excitement. "We're far from done, darling. Now, spread your legs, or shall I do it for you?"

"You are not allowed to touch me.. TOJI FUSHIGURO!"

Toji grins wickedly," Oh yeah?", with a swift movement he pulls your panties off you. You legs hiding your core from his gaze. His eyes locked on your resistant form. " He reaches down, spreading your legs apart with force. Your protest is soon silenced by a hard slap accross your clit.

"Now Now.. Look at that," he gathers your wetness with his finger and licks it, "Taste of a bitch in heat."

You bite your lower lip from embarassment. Toji's eyes darkens with lust, his fingers running through your damp entrance, teasing your hole. "You're so wet, yet you are protesting? Ah, I love it." He smirks before inserting his finger inside you, feeling you tense. His eyes searching for your reaction.

"You are lying.. It's not possible-", you still keep on protesting.

Toji pulls his finger, "Hmm?" He raises his eyebrow at you, "Am I? Prove me wrong!" He inserts another finger, stretching you wide. You gasp, arching your back. "Mmm, see for yourself", he then pulls his fingers out. He holds his fingers near your face, covered in your essence, "See?", forcing them into your mouth making you taste yourself.

Your eyes widening, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Toji's eyes gleam triumphantly, his fingers finding their way back inside you. "Pretend all you want, but your body knows the truth." His thumb rubbed your clit, expecting a moan from you. "You want to feel my cock inside you, and let us both know the truth."

"D-do what you want.. but I will not moan."

Toji's grin never wavered as he pulled out his finger. "Stubborn till the end, aren't we?"

He adjusts his position above you, his erection poised to enter you. "Very well, but you won't be able to help yourself soon enough." Before you can react, he thrusts into you roughly, invading your core. He groans at the tightness, his pace increasing.

Your hands tugging on the restraint, eyes watering again from the invasion. He leans in, whispering in your ear, "Let me hear it, your pleasure."

"F-fuck fuck.. pull it out already.. Toji", you nearly beg him.

Toji does not pull out instead he leans back, his dick sliding inside you further hitting your womb as tears spill out of your eyes from the stretching.

"Ohh.. What a sight to behold! The mistress is crying.. Is that how you request your controller?", he slows down a little.

"Please.. Toji... pull it out already", you feel your insides getting ripped everytime he pushes himself in you.

Toji laughs darkly, "Call me master Toji"

"Bastard", you reply.

He starts thrusting, roughly and harshly. "You want to die?"

"Pls master toji .. It's tearing me," your voice shaking with pain and confused pleasure.

His thrusts slows down again, his eyes scanning your tear-streaked face. "That's right. Who owns you?"

"Y-you..", you reply, your self respect crumbled against Toji's feet.

He smiles cruelly, "Mmm... What's that? I wanted to pull out, but your walls are not allowing me to." with that he keeps slamming into you. This time gentlier than before. Your face twisting in anger and tears.

"No, no..." he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead softly. "It's alright. Embrace your submissive nature. You'll thank me later." His thrusting intensifies, his pace accelerating. You whimper, unable to control your pleasure. "It feels good hah?"

"N-no it does not," you lie. Toji's eyes glint at your lie. 'We will see about that" as he speeds up his thrusts, pulling your nipple causing you to cry even louder.

Suddenly moan escapes from your mouth, biting your lips you hide your shift your head right avoiding eye contact with him.

"There it is!" he whispers, his thrusts growing more erratic. "Didn't you just say, you won't moannn?" his mocking evident. "That's it, let go! Enjoy it!" He rams into you, owning you fully.

Your eyes locking on his again. "You look so beautiful, when you are this vulnerable and submissive." His words, punctuated by his thrusts, your moans filling the air. "So obedient..."

Your walls tighten, your climax reaching soon. Toji's thrusts slow down as he realizes your nearness. "Not yet..." He pulls his dick out, causing you to cry out.

"I decide when you cum. Remember that." He reaches down, playing with your clit. "Beg for it."

You look at him, your mind still not wanting to give in.

"Beg for it, or I will keep doing this the whole night" He repeats, his voice firm.

He strokes his cock, your eyes widened, realizing the threat. "Please Toji, let me cum.." Your voice trembled, your body tensing.

"Please what?", he smirks biting his lips.

"P-Please master..", you pout after saying the words.

Toji smirks, placing the tip back to your entrance. "Complete the sentence," he rubs your wet, puffy clit with his tip.

"P-Please master toji let me cum", your respect for yourself almost vanished as your eyes begged for him.

"Louder" He pushes his tip inside you, painfully slow.

"PLEASE MASTER TOJI LET ME CUM.. PLEASE .. I BEG OF YOU"

Toji lets out a satisfied growl, thrusting deep. "That's more like it, my good slave." He pounds you mercilessly, your pleas for release filling the air. "Cum. For me."

Your body tenses, toes curl as you orgasm hard, walls spasming rapidly against his cock. Toji watches your orgasm unfurl, his dick pulsating inside you. "Mmm, nice." He thrusts faster, his climax approaching. "Fuck, yes. So tight.. I never imagined you felt this good." He grunts, his breath hitched, his release imminent. "Gonna fill you up. Bet you won't remain selfish anymore once you have your own baby."

Only moans come out of you as he thrusts into your oversensitive pussy. Toji finishes his thrusts, spilling himself inside you, pulling out just to see his seed drooling out of your clamping walls. "Shit.. Look at that, so dirty", he pushes his dick inside you again, watching your body shuddering.

You mutter a low appologise as your breathing starts becoming stable once again. "Oh so now ya guilty?" Toji laughs, his dick twitching inside you still, he's getting hard once again. He pulls his dick out and drags you onto his lap.

He caresses your cheek, "Do you think I can ever forgive you baby? with all these years of disrespect that you flung at me?" his other hand pats your ass. "I dont want to hear your apologies. I will divorce you just like that."

You feel as though everything is falling apart around you. It's the last thing you expected to hear from him. You know you love him, but you chose to ignore your feelings up until this point. "Pls master.. d-dont divorce me .. I love you", you lean towards him, kissing his cheek.

Toji's eyes flickered for a moment, as you kiss his cheek. "Wow.. Just an orgasm out of you, put you in your place? Perhaps.. There's only one way to change my mind", he licks his tongue wanting to push your buttons. You look at him expectantly.

Toji's eyes sparked with devious delight "Show me how much you love me, my slave".

Sighing, you take his erect cock and insert it inside of you. You begin to flex and extend your hips along his girth.

Toji watches as you ride him, his eyes never leaving you, his eyes twinkling. "Mmm, nothing sexier than a woman in need," He growls, grabbing your hips and pushing you into his hips. "Ride it harder!" He groans, moving along with your rhythm. You nod and increase your pace, bouncing harder, his veins popping on his forehead.

"Impressive, but more!" His hands move to your neck, pulling you closer. "Yes.. Open your mouth whore" He grips your throat gently, tightening his hold.

You open your mouth, and Toji spits in it, "Swallow it". Without any delay you swallow it.

Toji laughs, "How the tables turn, huh?"

You lean to kiss him, but he grabs your neck not allowing you to get closer to him. "I don't want to kiss your nasty mouth bitch"

"P-please master toji.. kiss me", you beg him, hands reaching to caress his hand on your neck.

"Hmm?" he whispers, "Why would I do that?" He tightens his grip, making it harder for you to breathe. You gasp, your eyes locking with his.

"I am sorry," you cry and pout, hips slamming against his pubis while riding him.

"Apologizing?" He loosens his grip, allowing you to breathe easier. "Now that's better." He watches you, how you are engulfing his cock with each movement.

"Still want my kiss?" He taunts, as he release his grip on your neck.

"Yes.. please.. Kiss me"

Toji captures your lips, his tongue invading your mouth. You moan, wrapping your arms around his neck. He groans, the taste of your submission sweet. "Mmm, such a good slave." He pulls away, "Appology accepted". His mouth leans in to latch onto one of your breasts, tongue circling your nipples and his cheeks hollowing.

Unable to control yourself you squirt all over him. He grunts at your sudden tightness. "What the fuck- so tight ah.." He removes his dick from you, putting you on your knees and hands. "Pissing like a dog? Want me to piss on you too?"

"S-sorry master, I was unable to control myself", your eyes rolled from the experience, collapsing on the bed.

Toji spanks your ass, bringing you to your knees. He lines up his dick to your entrance, holding you steady. "Ya looking like a used slut." His dick slides in your entrance, stretching you again. You whine and whimper, thighs shaking from the ecounters before.

"So sensitive..", Toji scoffs.

"Please .. I am near .. fuck me harder", your voice pleading, eyes rolled, drools driping down your chin.

Toji's thrusts speed up, taking you from behind. "Such an Insatiable cum slut " He groans, his voice hoarse. "Tell me how much you want my cum inside you."

"Fill me up pls.... I am master Toji's cumdump"

Toji roars, slamming into you. "Mmm, yes. My cum dump bitch." He releases inside you, feeling you cum and contract around his dick. He pulls out, watching his seed dripping out of you. His eyes lingered over your pussy, "Maybe you deserve a reward after all."

Your whole body convulses. Toji pulls himself out, "Do you want the reward?"

"Please.. reward me master .. I am your good slave," you falter.

Toji smiles, "Very well, my pet. You're a good slave then" He licks your thighs "Mmm, I love you. But if you dare to disappoint me again..." His teeth nibbling on your clit, making you moan loudly. "You know where you stand." He coos and blows on your wetness, licking you clean. Your body trembles, his tongue exploring your folds.

Toji moans, licking your and his cum.. He suckles your clit, his tongue dancing around. A huge cum drop falls on his tongue which he thrusts inside you again.

"Such a good slave, you'll give me a healthy pup" He hums, kissing your inner thighs. Your breath hitches, your orgasm nearing.

Unable to make out anything, you keep taking the pleasure he gives you.

Toji chuckles, his pace unrelenting. "Make me feel needed, slut" He tongue flicks your clit, you shaking. "Cum for me girl" He pinches your clit, your juice flowing freely. "Ahh, so fucking delicious..."

"Gonna cum .. Love you Toji .. a-ah", you blabber. "Yes, my whore. Go ahead" He growls, licking your juice dripping on his lips. Your thighs wrap around him, cumming again. He licks your cum from his tongue, your legs trembling.

"Good girl". He kisses your neck then pulling you closer to his dick.

"Clean your mess from it" He whispers.

Toji breathes heavily, your mouth enveloping his half-hardened dick. It gets hard again, "Mmm, yes, clean it nicely" He cups your head, his shaft coats in your saliva. "Like that, slut" His hand affectionately messes your hair, your moaning muffled. "So good... God.. I should have done this a lot earlier." He watched you swallow his dickhead, your saliva running down your chin. He laughs, his breaths hitched.

You suck on his balls while he strokes his length, "You know how to make a man happy" he whispers. He pulls you by your hair rubbing his dick on your cheeks.

He leans back, hips jerking. "Mmm, shoot!", his cum splattering across your face, your tongue sticking out, trying to catch some cum drops. He smiles, wiping your face.

"Mmm, so obedient, my little cum dump" He whispers, kissing your lips. "You did great today and if you dare to mistreat me again.."

"I will put you in your place.. Like how I did today."

DIVIDERS FROM @/cafekitsune

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #fushiguro toji #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #toji zenin #zenin toji #toji x reader #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji smut #fushiguro toji smut #fushiguro toji x you #fushiguro toji x reader #dilf toji #jjk toji smut #jjk toji x reader #jjk toji zenin

[alastorss]

Could you maybe write something with Alastor and reader,

and reader gets hurt in the extermination and he cares for her? And maybe like she takes a nap on his lap and he just sorta falls asleep right next to her?

a/n: hello!! i sort of got carried away with this one and made it more sappy than i originally intended, but i hope you still like it! for context: the reader stepped into battle when alastor was hurt by adam and this is the aftermath :) hurt/comfort and fluff!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Alastor has been eerily quiet since returning to the newly-rebuilt hotel, sutures and bandages in hand.

All his belongings, including his beloved cane, have been cast aside in lieu of medical supplies to be split between you. One measly box worth of gauze and sanitizing wipes. Definitely nothing to gawk at, but good enough.

He's stripped his shirt without any exchange of words. You know his silent request, too prideful to ask for your help verbally but desperation clear in his expression.

"Is this the only spot?" You ask, slowly stringing a suture through his skin. He hisses in pain—his only response. The demon doesn't even gratify you with his eyes anymore, opting to stare off into space as if his mind has taken a vacation elsewhere.

You frown but continue delicately stitching him, piecing him together until he's whole again. His back hits the dresser as he leans on it, body instinctively trying to crawl away from the stinging of the needle. Finally, you knot the end of the sutures and sigh in relief, reaching over to get something to clean the area.

"I'm glad this whole fiasco is over," you comment softly, knowing it won't make him look at you. "With their leader gone, maybe the angels will finally—"

"You disobeyed me," he suddenly snaps. "Why?"

You pause in your movements, blinking up at Alastor while he glowers at you. His eyes narrow into slits, half out of anger and half in a grimace.

"You were cornered. I couldn't just sit by and—"

"I told you to stay out of it," he interrupts again, slapping away your hand. You gasp, alcohol wipe hitting the floor beside you. Defiantly, you challenge him with a glare of your own.

"I'm trying to help, asshole!"

"I know, I know!" He explodes, obviously frustrated. "And look where it got you!"

He pinches your chin to tilt your head up toward him, rotating your face around so he can observe your wounds. A cut lip, a bruising eye—horrible reminders that sinners could be hurt. And you were no more of a sinner than he, much less an Overlord who knew the shape of a soul.

"You risked your life by intervening! What if you had been struck down, you fool?"

Alastor's voice is all panic and no composure, missing any semblance of that accent which is so beloved to him. You know he's telling you exactly what he feels, true emotions unburdened by the character he built for himself in the afterlife.

"So be it! It's no less a fate than what would have happened to you!" You emphasize by jabbing your finger just above his wounded abdomen, careful not to agitate his fresh stitches.

Wincing, he goes silent. It's unnerving how quiet it is again. You've gotten so used to the ambient buzz of his static, but with it missing, you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck pricking up in unease.

He still hasn't released your face, clawed fingers pinching your chin and holding you in place. It isn't until he feels the wetness of your tears pooling at the pads of his fingers that he recoils in surprise.

Sighing, he twists over to open new packs of wipes. You stay still while he carefully cleans your face, ignoring your little whelps of pain the best he can.

Once the blood is gone, he pauses. Then, his fingers gingerly wipe under your eyes, swiping away the globs of tears spilling down your cheeks.

You are pitiful right now, he thinks. Though he probably looks no better.

"I'm sorry," you hiccup. "I don't mean to make you worry."

His expression softens, though his viscous smile remains. You can see it in his eyes—something genuine buried beneath his act.

"I don't want you to die," you admit quietly.

"I wouldn't dream of it, my dear."

You laugh dryly, wiping up your tears on your own with your bloodied sleeves.

"But you almost did. What would I do without you?"

The question is rhetorical, but something vile still swirls violently in your stomach at the idea. As if knowing what's going through your mind, he grabs you by the cheeks and forces you to meet his stare again.

"Not another word out of you," he demands.

His gaze flicks to the bruising under your eye, flesh already discoloured and swelling. "Got a remedy?" You grumble.

Alastor shakes his head but leans in anyway, pressing a chaste kiss just below the swelling. His lips linger on your skin for a moment before he pulls away, amused by your stunned expression.

He invades your space again, this time kissing the crown of your head. Speaking into your hair, he whispers, "I will be more careful. I promise."

"And I'll think before charging into battle after you," you chuckle softly, overwhelmed by his warmth.

Slowly, he tugs you along and sits you on the sofa. He brushes the hair from your eye and takes the opportunity to look at it under better lighting. Just like that, he vanishes, melting into the shadows. When he reappears in front of you, he has cold packs. In a place so warm, they are of little use. But they are better than nothing, he supposes.

Groaning in pain, he seats himself beside you and allows you to slot under his arm. Two demons seeking comfort and companionship curled up together—any other Overlord would laugh.

But Alastor knows what it means to be loved, to have someone who would stand in front of a lethal blow for him, to be stitched back together by your hands.

In the safety of each others' presence, you both fall asleep with the faint hum of static filling the air.

~

taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc @th3-st4r-gur1 @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it @dilemmaiscool @concentratedconcrete (send an ask to be added!)

#🍓 faye's thoughts <3 #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin x reader #alastor fanfic #alastor fic #alastor headcanons #alastor fanfiction #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x you #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfic #alastor fluff

[too-deviant]

jackie and wilson.

previous | next series masterlist

summary: you haven’t been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile.

pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

word count: 4.1k

content: broody!luke, teenage dirtbag!luke but also not really, sprinkles of mean!luke, r is unbothered and does not gaf about his lil emo boy act, this is four thousand words of r being a pain in luke’s ass, probs will make a part 2 bc i love them your honour 

notes:  speaking my truth: i am a british gal. any banter in this about the new england states is entirely stuff i got from reddit so plz don’t scrutinise my american states knowledge

the layout of this fic is very much inspired by @murdrdocs if that wasn’t obvious but also icarus if u want me to change it i will jus say the word :00

PART I — she blows outta nowhere, roman candle of the wild 

All things considered, you took the news of your heritage pretty well. 

Sure, there was a lot of yelling — mostly through the wall after you locked yourself in your room and started packing a bag — but at least you didn’t sit on it in denial for several hours. 

Honestly, you should’ve seen it coming. 

The first time you realised you could see things nobody else could, you tried to admit yourself into a ward. Your mom went a little panicky, and she never did perform well under pressure, so she caved and said you were special. Too special for the other kids at your school, too special for anyone to know about it. 

After that, she got more tense. Eyes darting around whenever you guys went out in public, hand lingering for a second longer on your back before she sent you to school — as if she felt like she’d never see you again. She would stay up at night and read you old Greek tales before you went to sleep, and acted way too serious about it. More serious than when she would read you Dr Seuss. 

Honestly, it was a miracle you went unknowing for so long. Maybe you were insignificant, or maybe the Stymphalian Pigeon that tried to kill you after school was just slow — because you were seventeen when you got attacked by your first monster. 

You took it out pretty easily — and by that, I mean you outran it through the bustling streets of your hometown until it flew messily into a bus and you dodged your way to your apartment in a flurry. Your mom’s resolve cracked like a thin layer of ice and you were packed and ready to go to this camp she spoke of before the clock had hit four-thirty. 

Most of the yelling that you guys did was along the lines of — “I can’t believe you waited this long to tell me!” — and — “I didn’t want you to leave!” — “I get that, but seriously mom, I almost got eaten by a bird today. A little context going in would’ve been nice!”

You threw yourself into a taxi — much to the disdain of your mother, who insisted on at least getting you to the hill. You then reminded her that she would have to pay the fare all the way back to their apartment and it honestly wouldn’t be worth it and that you’d call her when you got the chance. She let you go with a huff, folding her arms across her chest and creasing the silky material of her pink blouse. 

The next hour was about as awkward as taxi rides go, even more so when you got out in the middle of nowhere. You weren’t even sure you were at the bottom of the right hill but sent the poor guy on his way anyway and prayed to whoever your divine parent was that you weren’t about to get gunned down by an angry farmer for mistaking his land for a summer camp. 

Thankfully, the empty fields shimmered into something worth travelling for when you took a tentative step across its threshold. The sun seemed to get brighter and the breeze became softer. It was nice from where you stood, and it probably would’ve gotten nicer the closer you got. 

Had you not tripped over a rock and tumbled down the hill ungracefully, landing in a heap at the bottom, a few feet away from a dirt path that split off in two directions. You sat up with a huff, blowing your hair out of your eyes and squinting at your surroundings now that they were much closer. You didn’t bother to heave yourself up, catching your breath and letting your gaze flitter over the scenery. 

It was cute. 

Then the distinct sound of horse hooves clipping against the ground evaded your ears, and you looked up to greet the centaur who now stood above you. You thanked the gods for your moms intricately detailed bedtime stories as you pulled yourself up onto your feet and allowed yourself to be introduced to Chiron and Mr. D, who then led you to the four story house that overlooked the valley. 

Your induction was swift and sweet — since you pretty much knew and had accepted everything already. There were a couple of glances and muttered comments about how you had gone so long without being targeted, but Chiron had said he wanted you to get the tour before dinner so you could settle straight to bed after the campfire, and caught some young kid by the t-shirt as he ran past, asking him politely if he could send Luke over. 

The awkward two minutes it took for your tour guide to reach you stretched on for a painful amount of time, but you would relive it a hundred times over if it meant you didn’t have to experience the agony you called your first meeting with Luke Castellan. 

He was tall, with a dark mop of curls that hung over his furrowed brows. His skin was tanned from all the time he spent in the sun, and his shoulders were broad enough to intimidate, but not broad enough that you were intimidated. He was your age, seemingly, and the cuffs of his green cargo pants brushed against his ankles only an inch higher than they would sit on an average person.

His most memorable feature, however, had to be the deep scar that stretched from the top of his left brow all the way to his cheekbone — it was jagged and sharp, cutting across his eye roughly, as if he had been clawed. He probably had. It was raised and shone pink under the sun, so you could tell it was fairly new, but it had healed over enough to indicate that Luke was probably tired of hearing people ask about it. So you didn’t. You barely gave it a glance before you raised your brows at him with a cheeky grin and gave him your name. 

He nodded minutely, one of the only movements he made after he’d parked himself in front of you other than the sliding of his eyes from one person to another as they spoke to him. After Chiron and Mr D had given him the rundown, he gave a slight nod of his head in one direction before walking away and expecting you to follow. 

You caught up to him, sidling up on his left with a huff and a smile, “I’m getting the feeling that you're sorta sick of this giving this tour all the time.” 

He didn’t respond. He just looked at you, and then stopped walking, watching as you froze two steps ahead of him before shuffling back to his side sheepishly. Then he lifted an unbothered hand to the right, “Those are the strawberry fields.” He then gestured ahead, “That’s the beach.” And then to the left, “Those are the training fields.”

Then he started walking again, and you hesitated for only a second before following, “Wow. Don’t give me too much information all at once.” 

Your sarcastic comment was ignored, and Luke nodded towards the bank of cabins you were nearing, “These are the cabins. Twelve. One for each Olympian. You’ll stay in the Hermes cabin until you’re claimed.”

“Right.” You nodded, “God of Travellers. Makes sense.” 

He let out a breath, not pausing in his stride as he passed through the curve of houses, not sparing a glance to any of them. You took notice of how the other kids looked at him in apprehension, with a hint of fear when he got too close. He cut down an alley between two cabins — one with a dangerous amount of barbed wire across the top and another that glowed gold under the sunlight — before the pair emerged through the trees at a pavilion. 

“This is where we eat.” He said. “Dinner is soon.” 

“Cool.” You nodded, “What are the options? Because if food here is lacking, then I will be packing.” 

You let out a useless chuckle at your own joke, but it landed flat. “Yeah, that wasn’t funny.” You muttered lowly. With a click of your tongue, you glanced over the horizon and pointed at something from afar. A tall structure that stuck out the tops of the trees, “What’s that?”

“The climbing wall.” Luke answered plainly. 

“And that?” 

“The Amphitheatre.”

You looked up at him, pulling a face he didn’t bother to glance at. Then you noticed a bunch of campers filing through the trees and into the pavilion the two of you stood at the edge of. They entered in groups and made their way to their designated tables, chattering and gossiping as they did. 

You looked at Luke, “Well, that was…great. Truly, a riveting experience. I will say, though — your delivery needs some work. The dark and gloomy act works most of the time, but not when you’re giving a guided tour.”

That got him to look at you, and you held back your triumphant smirk. He frowned, “What?”

You shrugged, “I’m just saying, nobody is going to listen to you talk about this place if you describe it like this.” You lowered your tone into a subpar impression of his voice, and you swore you saw his brows twitch. Clearing your throat, you waved a hand, “No need to worry about that now, though. Just point me in the direction of the Hermes table and I’ll be out of your strangely well-conditioned hair.”

Another eyebrow twitch. You were getting the hang of this. Maybe one day you could get him to move other parts of his face! 

You half expected the boy to ignore you and walk off — and he did. But it was in the direction of the Hermes table, so you counted it as him showing you the way. Most of the campers were seated by the time you’d arrived, and you were thus forced to sit yourself on the end of the bench, uncomfortably beside him. He was unbothered. 

During dinner you were swiftly introduced to some of your peers — Chris Rodriguez gave you a lopsided grin and informed you politely that you would need to sacrifice some of your food before you got stuck into it. Travis and Connor Stoll sidled up on either side of you as you grumbled at the hearth, and yapped your ear off about the fundamentals of camp. 

(So all the sneaky stuff Chiron doesn’t know about. Like how you can skip out on archery training if Lee is the one running it because he never has it in him to snitch. Or that the pegasi stables were the go-to hook up spot for summer campers, but the back of the Amphitheater was the go-to hook up spot for the year-rounders. When you asked what the difference was, they winked, and when you asked what happened if a year-rounder hooked up with a summer camper, they chuckled and walked off.)

Chiron gave you an introduction that made you feel like a new kid being asked to tell the class one fun fact about yourself, and around six kids at your table asked if it hurt when you fell down the hill. 

Overall, a good first night. As far as first nights at a summer camp for half-gods goes. By the time all the campers had gone back to their respective cabins, you were ready to turn in and clock out for the day. 

But you wanted to try one more time. Last attempt, and then you’d let it go. 

When Luke — who you had discovered earlier was the counsellor of the Hermes cabin, and apparently a role model for the kids — came over and silently handed you a folded orange shirt with a leather cord sitting on top of it, you smirked. 

“Hey, now we can match. How cute.” 

He blinked at you, “Everyone is wearing the same thing.”

“The same shirts, you mean.” You tilted your head, “But we’re both wearing green cargos. And white socks. White sneakers.” Your grin widened as you watched his eyes flit down your form, taking in the outfit you had on. You were right — the only difference between you two was the white tank top you had on, soon to be replaced by the shirt he had just handed to you. You thought for a moment that it would work, that he would make a face, or say more than two sentences to you in response. 

But he didn’t. He just huffed and walked away, and you watched with an appalled expression. You narrowed your eyes. 

Okay, so maybe you weren’t ready to let it go yet. 

The next morning, you were rudely awakened by a small child who was sprawled across your torso, having shifted from his own sleeping bag that was beside yours. He couldn’t have been any older than six, his orange camp shirt sitting like a dress on him, and if he wasn’t snoring into your chest, you would’ve thought he was adorable. 

But you really needed to pee. 

After you slowly but surely lifted him back onto his own pillow, you stood up with a stretch and stepped precariously over the other kids, balancing carefully on the tips of your toes so you didn’t step on any of them. The sun was barely rising, and you were the only one awake, so you held your breath and reached out for the handle of the bathroom door. 

“That’s not your bathroom.”

You flinched, losing your balance and toppling back. A hand between your shoulder blades prevented you from crushing any of the kids on the floor, and you steadied yourself before meeting the eyes of the person who spoke. 

Luke was staring intently at you, his eyes blinking hard as if he’d only just woken up. He was in nothing but a pair of blue sweat-shorts and you fought the urge to rake your eyes over his bare torso, watching as he lowered his hand back to his side, “That’s the counsellor's bathroom.”

“Right.” Came a low mutter, under your breath. Then louder, you asked, “Well, where is the campers bathroom?”

“Outside.” He answered, “Around the back of the cabins.”

“Out—“ You started, and then realised everyone else was asleep and swiftly lowered your volume, but kept your expression exaggerated. Wide eyes, furrowed brows. “Outside?”

“Yes.”

“But…it’s cold out there.”

“We have a controlled climate.” He said, folding his arms across his chest. His biceps tensed, “It’s never cold.”

You let out a sigh, throwing your thumb over your shoulder and pointing at the door, “Can’t I just use this one? You aren’t using it, and everyone else is asleep, they’d never know!” 

He stared at you blankly and stayed silent for a long time. You wouldn’t be surprised if he just never said anything until you walked away, which you were well prepared to do, letting out a deep breath and folding your own arms over to preserve heat as you clambered towards the front door, muttering complaints under your breath the whole time. You made it three feet (or two sleeping bags) away from him when he finally piped up. 

“Be quick.” 

Turning around, Luke was already making his way back to his own bed, and you ogled shamelessly at his back muscles as you shuffled to his bathroom and made your way inside. You did your business quickly as requested and washed your hands under the low pressure of the sink before cracking the door open once more. The cabin was the same, everyone else still sleeping calmly. Luke was standing by his bunk, now clad in black shorts and his camp shirt. He paid you no mind when you padded back to your sleeping bag, grabbing your bag and stifling through the clothes you had packed. 

You walked up to breakfast with the unclaimed girl you had met the previous night — Lana — and listened and she told you intently about the lore of Luke Castellan. 

“He never used to be the way he is. He was happier before, always grinning. More than ready to help anyone here. He was…well, everyone either wanted to be with him or be him.”

“And then what happened?”

“He went on a quest. It went wrong. He came back with that ugly scar and he hasn’t been the same since.”

You made a comment that the scar wasn’t ugly, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d add on that it made him look pretty hot. But you did know better, and you knew that Luke was three people ahead of you in the line and could probably hear what you were saying. So you kept that tidbit to yourself and ate your cereal in silence. 

When breakfast was over, you stood from the bench and turned, only to stop short when you realised Luke was standing behind you. Looking up at him, you raised a brow, “Yes?”

“I’m showing you around today.”

“You showed me around yesterday.”

His lips tightened, “We’re actually doing stuff today. Seeing what you’re good at.”

“Oh.” You ran your tongue over your teeth and nodded, “Well, where do we start?”

“Archery.” 

Turns out, you were pretty awful at archery. Even after you’d stopped firing arrows into the treeline, you still never hit the middle of the target. Lee had to correct your posture four times, and you broke six arrows. Eventually, you decided that Apollo was not your father, and shuffled over to where Luke stood beneath the shade of a tree — where he had been standing the whole hour. 

“Y’know, just because you’ve got this broody bad boy thing going on, doesn’t mean you have to linger in the shadows all the time.” You commented, picking at your fingernails and readjusting the long sleeve you wore under your camp shirt, “You just look weird.” 

Luke pointed at your cheekbone, “You’re bleeding.” 

You huffed, “I know.” You kept holding your bow too close to the side of your face and the feathers of the arrows kept scratching you whenever you let them fly. Lee mentioned how most people make that mistake the first time round, but you’d done it so much that he’d cut your lesson short and told you to get a bandaid from one of his siblings. You didn’t. 

He stared at your cut for a moment, like he was thinking hard about something. But he didn’t, and pushed himself off the tree he was leaning against and brushed past you, “Let’s go to the forges.”

You were better at blacksmithing than you were at archery, but the sword Charles Beckendorf was helping you weld still came out wonky and discoloured. He was a nice kid, funny, and your lowered spirits from your previous task had been quickly uplifted despite you not having much skill in his department. He let you keep the sword anyway, and you swung it jokingly at Luke as he led you to the Amphitheater. 

You made swooshing noises as you did so, chuckling when he didn’t so much as flinch, “Don’t act so tough, Castellan, I could take you out even with a dodgy sword.”

“You couldn’t.” He muttered, “I’m the best sword fighter here.”

You let out an over dramatic gasp, running ahead and swivelling around so you could meet his eyes, “Holy shit, was that…did you just…tell me something about yourself?” You grinned and his frown deepened, “Aw, Luke. We’re getting somewhere! This is amazing, I’m so proud. Soon enough we’ll be best frien — “

Before you could finish your incessant teasing, Luke grabbed your forearm and yanked you in front of him just as a kid on an out-of-control Pegasus toppled past you. You watched him disappear in mild shock, before looking back at the boy in front of you, “Hey, thanks. Almost got trampled. How embarrassing.”

He narrowed his gaze, “Do you not take anything seriously?”

You shrugged, “Not really. I’d ask you the same question, but…” You made a face. It was obvious that he was very serious, even if he never used to be. 

“Let’s go.” Was his boring response, moving swiftly past you and into the Amphitheatre so quickly you would’ve assumed he was trying to get away from you. (Which he definitely was).

You weren’t really all that bothered, not when you were having so much fun pissing him off. 

It took all of ten minutes for Luke to put your sword fighting lesson to an end. Not only had you insisted on fighting with the wonky sword rather than a working training one, you also kept pushing him with your hands whenever he got too close. 

“That’s not how you’re supposed to do it.”

“Hey, it’s working, isn’t it?” 

You were pretty shit at it anyway, so you didn’t fight him when he said you were cutting your lesson short. You simply tucked your weapon onto the sheath he’d handed you and followed him down the hill to the dining pavilion. 

“So, where are you from?”

He didn’t answer you for a couple of minutes, something you’d been well prepared for. But you couldn’t help but ask — he intrigued you. A little too much, maybe. 

You continued, “Because you seem like a Mass guy.”

Luke stopped in his tracks, turning to you, “Mass…achusetts?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, fighting off your amused smile when he pulled a face. Finally, an expression!

Truth was, Lana had told you he was from Connecticut. You just wanted to see how he’d react, if he would react at all — apparently he isn’t immune to everything. 

“I’m from CT.” He made it very clear, and you tried your hardest not to laugh. “Okay? I'm not some Boston Masshole, got it?”

You raised your hands in surrender, “Got it.” 

He stared at you for a second longer, as if to ensure you really did have it. Squinting at your amused smile before nodding and continuing his walk. You thought it would go back to silence, but apparently you’d lit a fuse. 

“I mean, what makes you think I'm from MA?” He asked, his tone of voice so appalled you’d think he’d been accused of some sort of crime. “Do I smell like shit?”

A chuckle, “What?”

But he just whirled on you once more, lifting his arm and gesturing to his pit, “Do I? Do I stink of shit?” 

You didn’t feel like sniffing him, so you just shook your head, still laughing, “No.” 

“Then what — ?” He stopped, narrowed his eyes, “Where are you from?”

You tried to hide your smile, but it was getting really difficult. The last two days he’d been nothing but broody and miserable, one word quips being his only form of communication other than dark frowns. But one mention of Mass and he’s suddenly down to chit chat? You couldn’t help but laugh — unfortunately, it only spurred him on. 

“You think this is funny?” He scoffed, nodding, “Yeah, bet you’re from Maine too.”

Your laughter continued, little giggles spilling out of you whenever you thought about the situation too hard. You shrugged, “I don’t think I wanna tell you after this.”

Luke nodded like he was expecting you to say that, “Something a Mainer would say, I’m sure.”

You grinned wide, very proud of yourself for getting a visceral reaction out of the boy — even if you had to piss him off to do it. Just as you went to reply with a witty comeback that would have him ranting and raving for the rest of the night, the dinner conch sounded, interrupting what you’re sure would’ve been a very entertaining conversation. 

You walked on past him, not stopping, but slowing down so you could cough into your fist, “Flatlander.”

You didn’t look back but you did hear him scoff in shock, and you were sure he stood there frozen for at least twenty seconds because he entered the pavilion way later than you did. He made a point to fix you with an annoyed stare as he sat down a few people away from you — and Chris raised a brow. 

“What’d you do to him?”

You shrugged, digging into your mashed potatoes before anyone could tell you to wait until you’d made your offering, “Told him he looked like a Bay Stater.”

He chuckled, wincing under his breath and shaking his head, “You’re evil. I like it.”

You smirked and said nothing — but whenever your eyes flickered over to Luke, his were just flickering away from you.

#@lia’s works #joined a new england subreddit for this fic #so pls give it some love #taking requests #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo

[astrologydayz]

ASTROLOGY FUCKING NOTES

WHY do people say that if someone's planets falls into your 7th house, then YOU'RE THEIR IDEAL LOVER??? Bitch bye. If someone's planets falls into YOUR 7th house, then U DIG THEM OR HATE EM, AS IT'S YOUR 7TH HOUSE! Let's say that your crush planets falls into your 1st and 7th house, then obviously u like their looks (1st house) and the way they show themselves off 2 other people, (how they treat other people/people u know (7th house! Don't project.

Pluto conjunct Ascendant in synastry, is a stalker aspect🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️. It kinda reminds me of Hailey running around after Justin at his interviews, when they were young and he had no idea🤨🫣😭🤣 . SO FUCKING CREEPY. Pluto is obsessed, and way 2 "fixated" on the asc person. It can get dangerous, cuz ASC person has no idea about how deeply the obsession runs with Pluto, fr💀. The worst part is that they usually know that the Pluto person can be kinda "creepy", but not about how deep it actually runs. U won't ever really know with Pluto, cuz they won't even give out 20% of their secrets - they can't help it. Unless they literally have no aspects from Pluto 2inner planets in their own natal chart.

Your Bella asteroid - 695 conjunct/trine/quintile someone’s ASC means that the ASC person finds u really beautiful, (physical attraction) 🍒🫦. With the opposition it's on & off, like sometimes yeah and other times no - It switches. With the square/quincunx - takes time, but grows into a really strong attraction, the longer you're 2gether/know each other.

Why the fuck do people think that 8th house energy is only about sex and intense connections? If a person has planets in your 8th house = that person does not like u 9/10 times. They'll talk shit about u when u ain't present/gaslight u/do things behind your back. They're usually jealous of u. Trying 2 cross your personal boundaries all the fucking time. WHO GOT TIME4THAT?? NOT ME LOVE⚠⚠.

Why do Cap inner placements/points always get a "boring", or a "cold" rep? We just don't like u? Trust me. We'll show u a good time, if we think you're worth it.

Jupiter is not only good. It enlarges EVERYTHING. So if someone has Sado asteroid (118230) conjunct Jupiter in their natal chart = a very smart/knowledgeable Sadist. They want to know everything! Hours&hours of research. They can't get enough with Jupiter! They're into some sick shit, and can use some really AGGRESSIVE ways 2 create that "pain and suffering". "shhh, I'm here baby, it's okay"🤨. 9/10 times = addiction 2 being that Sado "teacher" with Jupiter here🔞🔞. They can even brag about it!

Nessus asteroid - 7066 in synastry can definitely cause sexual attraction. But the Nessus person will always take advantage of the other person, no matter what. It may not be as "in your face"/prominent, like it is with the conjunction/square/opposition, but it will take place. Some can like Nessus contacts in synastry, if they have Nessus aspecting their own planets - especially inner planets, or points. And they can also handle Nessus energy way more, than someone who doesn't really have any Nessus contact, as they're already used to it. It doesn't make it good tho.

WOMEN with Black Moon Lilith conjunct/square/opposite Mars can hate being touched by men. Can also have trouble regarding intimacy with men in general/bc of their experiences with them🪚🪚. I have this, and if a man touches me out of nowhere = I'll punch him back 2 the year he should have stayed in a fucking condom 🦄.

Lilith asteroid - 1181) in 3rd house synastry can mean that the house persons siblings doesn't like Lilith if it's "poorly" aspected😮‍💨😮‍💨. Or that house persons siblings doesn't even want 2 try 2 create a relationship, because they already heard so much "shit" about Lilith🫠🫠.

💜 Pluto conjunct asteroid Valentine - 447) in a natal chart loves so fucking hard. They'll literally take a bullet 4 the person they love. They don't “create” a connection with anyone easy either. They're so intense when it comes 2 love, and with how they connect 2 another being. They transform/find themselves - Pluto, through those few people they do end up loving. Most people can't handle their intense ways of showing love🖤🔫.

Inner planets in Gemini degrees 3/15/27° in a natal chart are the real champions, when it comes to overthinking - but knowing everything beforehand. They already thought about ALL the different outcomes, 2 every fucking situation!🫰🫠😍🤭. They already know what time it is, before u tryna tell em.

Look at your Vertex persona chart 2 c what kind of fated things you're supposed2 go through in this life ✍👀. Make a synastry chart and c if your Vertex chart makes any significant aspects 2 your natal! It can show important life events/secret fated "events" that won't be seen in just natal or Vertex pc alone👽.

Lol, I'VE SEEN A LOT OF PEOPLE SAY THAT ARIES RISING WILL HAVE RED HAIR, OR COLOR THEIR HAIR RED AT SOME POINT? I'm an Aries rising, and I would rather get shot in the face. I'm naturally blonde, and honestly? I haven't met a single Aries rising who has red hair, or would color their hair red.

Anti - Vertex persona chart shows what YOU choose2 let into your life, and what u choose 2 do without fate intervening. It also shows u how u choose 2 act, in moments where u find no "meaning", and that's where your Vertex pc comes in right after - Fate intervening 🔮🔮.

Pluto opposite ASC/conjunct DSC in synastry can show the Pluto person deciding/or trying to at least, who the house person talks 2/surrounds themselves with. They can think a person is "bad company" 4 the house person. They can be in DSC persons business, a lot! House person is alarmed/or not, depending on how Pluto is aspected in their own chart. If Pluto is afflicted = they kinda like it.

ANYONE who has benefitted/benefits from me = a planet/point/NN/Vertex/asteroid conjunct my POF. Your POF is all the things (material/or spiritual wealth/growth), u have "picked up" on/will pick up on throughout your life. U "help" others with that planet/point or asteroid in synastry💰🦉💳.

Star asteroids - Starr - 4150), Kallisto - 204), Fama - 408), Europe - 52), actor - 12238), Lumiere - 775 - acting, Apollo - 1862), Talent - 33154), Klio - 84), Fan - 151590), Records - 30718), Varuna - 20000) Webb - 3041).

✨✨✨✨🎭🎬🎨

Music, writing&poetry asteroids - Polyhymnia - 33), Euterpe - 27), Apollo - 1862), Terpsichore - 81 - song and dance) Luscinia - 713 - Singing), Melpomene - 18, Harmonia - 40), Erato - 62), Kalliope - 22), Singer - 10698), Cantor - 16246 - singing), Poesia - 946), Parthenope - 11 - singing), Tone - 1266), Echo - 60), Mnemosyne - 57). 

🎤🎧🎼

"Lucky asteroids" - Fortuna (19), Opportunities - 39382), Paradise - 2791), Winner - 15606), Abundantia - 151), Angel - 11911), Bless - 92891), Bonus - 10028), Tyche - 258), Midas - 1981), Magion - 2696), Spirit - 37452), Nike - 307).

🍀🍀🍀

Please look at these asteroids in synastry. Prey - 6157), Sado - 118230), Devience - 21419), Nessus - 7066), Pain - 5188), Lie - 26955), Blink - 4425), Nemesis - 128), Swindle - 8690), Lilith - 1181), Hades - h41), wild - 1941), Fanatica - 1589), Medea - 212), Savage - 29837), Not - 2857), Pervert - 18624), Hard - 28077). 

🔞

THANKS4READING BABE!!

Appreciate u, always❤️

#astro community #astro notes #astro observations #astrology #astrology notes #asteroids #synastry #lilith

[catcze]

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

It's nothing dramatic. It's nothing grand. It's simple and easy and so very very very much like him.

It happens in the early morning, under the sheets of your shared bed. It's barely past five in the morning, and although you're still one foot in dreamland and one foot in the waking world, Wriothesley has been up for a while now. His chest is pressed to your back and curled around your person. Ever since he had awoke some time before you had, his hands had busied themselves with playing with yours. In particular, you couldn't help how he seemed to frequently trace the knuckle of the fourth finger of your left hand.

You don't say anything even when you rouse from your slumber, and Wriothesley doesn't stop playing with your hands. Even as you slowly wake up, as he presses kisses to the part of your nape not covered by your (his) shirt, you don't ask him what his hands are doing.

It's Wriothesley that finally speaks first. He buries his face into the base of your neck, break shaky when he inhales. So vulnerable, here, under the soft sheets. So fragile and easy to break. You could shatter him with just a few words, if you so desired. And he'd let you, too.

"We don't have to get married any time soon," he begins quietly, voice so low you almost don't hear. "Not if you don't want to. Hell, if you don't want to, we don't have to get married, either. I'm happy just being together with you, whatever that may be."

Wriothesley pauses and his breath hitches in his chest. His hands pause, enveloping yours, and in an act of comfort you lace your fingers together and reassuring squeeze.

I'm here. I'm listening.

His hand squeezes back, and his heart restarts in his chest.

"But if you let me," he clears his throat, "If you let me, I’ll prove to you that I’m worth spending your life with. That I'll make you happy. That you won’t regret marrying me."

And you want to turn around so badly. Want to see the shine in his eyes and the flush high on his cheeks. Want to take in how the warm fluorescent lights bounce against his hair and his cool grey eyes. But his hold on you is tight (but never painful. Never anything that cages you in.) and you can do little more than hum and bring one of his hands to the plush of your lips in a soft kiss.

You pause to think your words through, and Wriothesley buries his face into the back of your neck again. Goosbumps rise wherever his breath touches, and you can feel how his hands subtly tremble in your hold.

“You don’t have to. Prove yourself, I mean." You bite your lip. If he's nervous, so are you. But you know what you want, and it is him. "I’d be more than happy to call you my husband one day, you know.”

And he doesn't say anything more— not a word or a gasp or even a sob. He just burrows further into the back of your neck and his hands come to pull you closer against him. His hands are so warm on your chest, where they have anchored against you, and the race of his heart against your back is enough for you to want to hold him tight and never let him go.

Nothing else needs to be said between you. He keeps holding you as the morning grows later with each passing second, never faltering. You don't bother to squirm, content to sit in his embrace for as long as he likes. You don't mention the way his hands keep trembling against you, even after his fear and nervousness should have passed. Instead you take them into yours and once more press a kiss to the scarred knuckles, just as you always have.

Taking his left hand into your own, you look at them side by side, and wonder how pretty it would look when you both get matching rings.

#astronetwrk #「 🐈‍⬛ 」 catcze.desserts #Wriothesley x reader #genshin impact x reader #cw gn reader #Wriothesley #genshin impact

[homunculus-argument]

I think it would do good to modern teenagers to be re-introduced to the idea of unrequited love. Like yes, you're wildly in love with this person who doesn't like you, or if you already bungled it, might actually be actively repulsed by you since you unintentionally creeped them out. And it's painful and tragic and it hurts. That happens sometimes. So what can you do? Honestly nothing, other than to mope about it and suffer through it like it's a long, hard bout of illness that takes months or even years to recover from.

And I think kids should be taught that this isn't just fine and normal, but that you totally can - and actually should - romanticise it. Because since there's nothing else you can do about that sort of thing, you might as well have fun having it. You do get to be the the Tragic Suffering Protagonist about it. It's a beautiful, keen and unique sort of pain that is your own personal tragedy and 100% a you problem.

The idea that the only acceptable outcome of falling in love with someone is a relationship with the object of that desire is genuinely dangerous. The idea that the only way to a happily ever after is to "win them over", get out of the friend zone, finally do some feat that'll impress them or prove your worth and finally get the girl. That's not how it works, that's not how any of this works.

Moping isn't inherently bad for you. Okay of course it's possible to spend too much time wallowing in self-pity, but it's good for you to indulge in it as needed. The difference between poison and medicine is dosage, and everyone is allowed to have a little bit of small personal tragedy sometimes, as a treat. You have to do it sometimes just to get it out of your system, be sad about something for long enough to simply get bored of that, and go do something else.

And not to get "A spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down" stuck in your head, but sometimes that's the key to it. If the only way to go through something is to suffer through it, might as well make it sweet. Sometimes you just gotta be like "I love her and her happiness means more to me than my own, and she does not want me, so therefore I must do this Noble Sacrifice and suffer in silence and simply let her be happy without me" for like six months or a year until you're done being like that and over with it.

I don't know who the fuck thought it was a good idea to instead teach kids that the only acceptable thing to do is to keep bothering the person you like until they give in in and let you out of the ~friend zone~ and you win. That's just not healthy or helpful for anyone involved.

[foone]

It's a time gun. A gun that shoots time. Not a gun to shoot time, that's a terrible idea. Time is messed up enough as it is without some fool shooting holes in it.

No, it shoots bullets of concentrated time. How much depends on the caliber. This gun is chambered for 24 hours. (Although the weird thing is that despite anti-time definitely existing, this gun has no anti-version: there's no anti-gun of time. Instead you just load the gun of time with anti-time bullets.)

So what's it do? Well, you know the saying that time is a river? Well, rivers have splits and tributaries, where some of the stream is split off and eventually catches up with the main body.

This shoves you off into one of those, as you're given more time than the general world has. You get some time that no one else has, until you resynchronize. You're in a frozen world of no time, with only you and any other simultaneously desynchronized people able to move and interact.

This may seem powerful and useful for those hit by time bullets, but it's less useful than you'd think. Your ability to interact with the world is quite limited. And the length of the time you have is critical: 24 hours is a good amount because it's quite survivable, any longer and you're likely to die of thirst or hunger. You can't eat atemporal food or drink atemporal water. Some nasty chronomancers have been known to build time guns of months or years, meaning their victims are instantly replaced with a shriveled corpse, knowing it wasn't a quick death, but a slow and painful one in a lonely world of unfeeling statues where the sun never sets.

You can still breathe, though. That one is... Well, if you can figure out why, there's a prize from the University of Towers for you. Since the existence of the temporal aether was disproven we really have no idea why that happens.

Still, a short trip into personal time can be safe and useful, if properly prepared. Pack provisions and books and writing implements and take it in short jumps, and you can get weeks worth of writing or studying done in a single night.

Anti-time bullets are simpler, at least simpler to explain. They similarly desynchronize your personal time stream, but it results in you Not Being until the timelines align. From your perspective, that happens instantly, with a moment of the standard temporal nausea. For everyone else, you're just gone until you can make up the missing time. So it functions very much like a time jump forward. A 24-hour bullet of anti-time brings you to this time tomorrow, with no time having passed for you, due to your temporal deficit.

It seems safer, at first glance. No risk of starvation, no isolation, just a blink and it's later.

But there's always the problem of telefragging. The universe doesn't like when two things occupy the same space, and while you're gone, your former and future location are accessible. There may be nothing but air there when you return, or there may be a wagon, a person, or a rock. And the results when you return are not pretty, or even explosive.

It's been experimentally verified* by chronomancers that the end result depends on how much of the returning being overlaps with the existing matter. Less than half, and they merge, in ways that are gruesome and almost always fatal. At best, you might lose a limb or a digit due to the overlap. At worst, you're dead instantly and your body is now merged with some other object in ways that will make the funeral closed-casket, and the casket will be an unusual shape.

More than half... Well, the universe REALLY doesn't like it when matter overlaps with other matter. It explodes, violently. Very violently. One chronomancer even suggested this might be used as a weapon of war, by building a siege engine that collides a large animal like a ocean-whale with a large block of limestone, utilizing a short anti-time trip to overlap them. This idea was shot down immediately, as was the chronomancer who suggested it. She'll be officially censured when she reappears, around 28 years from now.

* the tests were performed on standard laboratory voles**, not human (or other sapient) test subjects. All experiments were done with ethics board approval and whenever possible, time loops were employed to unperform any experiments that resulted in the death of test subjects.

** rats, often used elsewhere in science, can't be used here as their natural temporal abilities interfere with the experiment. See "there is only one rat", V. Tollens, U. of T. Journal of Time, TE 436.

#One hundred and one magical pistols #My writing

[ohnoitstbskyen]

Often when people talk about appearance of characters in media, especially that of women, some use an argument along the lines of "Why would I want to look at someone ugly in the games I play/shows I watch/etc.?"

From what I saw, and if I'm not wrong, you prefer to not engage with that kind of argument, but if you absolutely had to, what answer would you give that could have a chance to make those people see and maybe agree with your point?

I mean, the reason why I wouldn't engage with that argument is that it is always, universally, without exception, an argument made in bad faith, by people who are lying when they utter it. And it takes only the briefest examination of reality to determine this.

The argument they pretend to make is that "there is no reason to desire things that are not pleasurable in entertainment," in response to which I present The Concept Of Horror Media, or the success of Jackass, or South Park, or literally any subversive prank show, or sports as a concept, or the genre of tragedy, or the phenomenon of people rubbernecking. I present true crime podcasts and biographies of John Wayne Gacy and Mortal Kombat fatalities, I present unflinchingly earnest documentaries about war and disease, I present cringe comedy, I present the entire online media genre of pimple popper videos.

Human beings desire so much more than beauty, so much more than aesthetic pleasure (and indeed we can take aesthetic pleasure in so much more than beauty). We find entertainment in disgust, horror, fear, revulsion, sorrow, embarrassment, pain and, yes, "ugliness" all the time, and we have done for as long as we have had sentient minds to entertain.

So this argument "why would I want to look at someone ugly in a video game" is simply a lie. It is an argument made in bad faith by people whom I will guarantee you against a bet of real money constantly look at things which are "ugly" for entertainment.

It is a lie, it is a stupid lie, and while I'm sure that many or most of the people who peddle that lie don't realize they are lying when they do it, it remains a lie which isn't worth dignifying with a response.

And anyway, 99% of the time they don't mean "ugly" they mean "woman who I don't find fuckable" or they mean "fat" or they mean "trans" or they mean "queer" or "non-white," they mean someone or some thing which falls into a category which they feel entitled to hate, and they are trying to enforce the normality of that hate.

You cannot logic someone out of a position they didn't logic themselves in to, and there is very rarely anything you can say to these people to make them reconsider. They are reacting emotionally, they are reacting on the impulse towards disgust and hatred, and they will rationalize a lie to excuse it.

#beauty culture

[hritika13-tamboli]

Jeon Jungkook Fic Recs List 2...

Series :

Day by day @hansolmates

Summary : a series of drabbles about two best friends raising a child together

Aim for the heart @writemywaytoyourheart

Summary : Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn’t sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn’t his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger.

Bedeviled @writemywaytoyourheart

Summary : Money. Fame. Power. Love. Health. Courage. Strength. Humans will trade their souls for anything, unaware of how their selfish desires will fade away as they do; growing feeble and pathetic, until there's nothing left but the ghost of their youth, cowering in a corner until old age disposes of it.  Convincing yourself to go to the Underworld? Easy... Walking through to get something that you've waited many years for, accompanied by a demon that will stop at nothing to make sure your soul belongs to him? Maybe not so much. Making deals with the devil is a tricky business; one you might not have realized could end in something much more painful than death itself if you make a single mistake.

Animal : Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 @cutaepatootie

Summary : The girl looked at the man who was in his 60s , lying on the hospital bed fighting for his life, he was trying to talk with her “I don’t want to go without telling something.” The girl frown looking at the old man “What do you mean, Mr. Jeon?” “I don’t want to die without telling someone about her,” he says, his voice softening when he says ‘her’. “I don’t want to disappear without the world knowing about her and what she did for me.” “About her?” the girl frowns. Maybe his daughter? His sister? The man turns his head and faces the girl, a soft, distant smile plastered on his lips. The gesture is nostalgic, sad, almost loving. “Y/N,” he murmurs, the name rolling off his lips softly, just as softly as the waves of the sea roll over the sand. “Her name was Y/N.”

Into the woods @junqkook

Summary : getting hurt and stumbling upon a goblin in the forest leaves you completely at his mercy, though you aren’t sure if that’s necessarily a bad thing.

One-shot :

The habits of the broken heart @softykooky

Summary : jungkook and you are soulmates. so says the matching crescent moons on both your wrists. however, things are never as easy as they seem, and you are quick to learn that falling in love with someone who does not believe in love is a one-way ticket to heartbreak.  alternatively, “You still are, you know. Worth it.” You release a shaky breath. “But I was stupid to think that I am too.”

Something in the heir @hisunshiine

Summary : The king of your empire will be leaving soon to head off to fight against Soiros, a foreign enemy, and his seven knights of the order of Bangtania will lead the way. One of the seven, Jeon Jungkook, with his dark eyes and easy smile, is someone you long for. Children believe he has slain dragons, and adults think he’s killed over one thousand Soirian soldiers. Everyone thinks he is a heartbreaker, making his way through every unwed wench in the land...but all he wants is you.

Miracle of the season @cybrsan

Summary : Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. When a familiar face pops up, you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.

Amortentia @jungkxook

Summary : jungkook loves everything strawberry but the simple pleasure is always kept hidden, stowed away as if some hideous secret to protect the rumours that had built up around him — until a love potion outs him.

Black magic   @hansolmates

Summary : a witch with an ambition for learning, you stumble across a crushing spell in the middle of the forbidden section. of course you have to try it out! what happens when the crushing spell not only has jeon jungkook crushing on you, but you crushing on him?

(Un)crushed    @hansolmates

Summary : you’ve liked jungkook for the longest time, but you believe it’s time to cut the cord—literally 

What's wrong?  @oddinary4bts

Summary : Reader overhears Jungkook talk to his friends and mention how she’s always clinging on to him and doesn’t let him breathe sometimes and that she’s annoying because she’s too loud and energetic. When he comes back home she acts the complete opposite and tries to avoid him without letting him know what’s going on, until he realises that he actually prefers her clingy and loud🥺

High demand @bunnyhugs77

Summary : modern day Romeo and Juliet

Coin toss @yoondoze

Summary : you and jeongguk go way back, even before you were the menacing duo many knew you to be, even before he brought you into the mafia and left you there to join the city’s detective agency. a call for cooperation comes out of a common enemy, requiring the two of you to reconcile for one last mission.

#bts ff recs #jeon jungkook #angst #smut #fluff #jeon jungkook ff #jk #jk ff #jungkook ff #jeon Jungkook recs #jungkook recs #jungkook fic recs #jungkook x reader #jungkook #btsff #bts #hitman jungkookff #devil jungkook #dad jungkook #angel jungkook #witch au #bts series #bts oneshot #witch jungkook #bts jungkook #goblin au #goblin jungkook #hitman au #angel au #jungkook masterlist

[stylesharrys]

say you love me

summary: nothing hurts more than an unrequited love. 

word count: 2,377

a/n: i'm considering opening up requests again. i'm working on some super long fics for you guys so if you have any other ideas or requests for what you'd like to see, please do let me know :)

//

She’s always been the quiet one, the insecure one, the lonely one. She’s always been the one that’s been the second option, the plan B. She’s always been the one that no one thinks twice about, the one that’s forgotten, the one that’s not really wanted. The one that’s just there.

It’s the same thing she’s tried to tell herself isn’t the case. The thing that her anxiety whispers in both the dead of night and yet the loudest and brightest of days.

She’s not quiet, she’s nervous. She’s not insecure, she’s misunderstood. She’s not lonely, she’s underappreciated.

She’s the one that everyone bounces off, that they go to for their problems and yet never think to share with her their celebrations. She’s there for the rutty stuff -- when friends are in need of a vent or some help, then she’s dropped again. She’s there for when they need her, but never really when she needs them.

She knows what her anxiety whispers is true, that her depression sings anxiety’s songs and has her spiralling the dance of self-doubt and loneliness. She knows they’re not just psychological murmurs -- knows that they’re the truth. And yet, she tells herself to forget the truth so it doesn’t hurt so much.

She’s used to it, but it doesn’t make the pain of it any more bearable. She’s used to being the last one hearing news, the last one being invited out (if they even remember). She’s used to having her birthday forgotten, to having her invitations lost in the post. She’s used to picking herself back up after every downfall she faces.

She is quiet. She is insecure. She is lonely.

And yes, she’s surrounded by friends. If you could call them that. Familiar faces that she sees semi-regularly, that have known her for years but not really. She knows them all like the back of her hand. Y/N doesn’t like much about herself, but she’s always known she’s a good friend. She’s always known she has a kind heart, that she puts others first and she’s attentive and considerate.

Y/N wears her heart on her sleeve and all people do is tug and tug and tug until eventually, the stitching is stretched to tattered threads and it’s barely hanging on.

She has a good heart but along the way, she’s lost her voice. Her voice of confidence, of self-worth. She’s lost her courage to fight for herself. It’s an odd thing about her, something she’s only recently come to realise.

Her self-doubt and anxiety cripple her from doing much for herself. Booking appointments, asking for assistance, expressing her emotions if it means she needs to show vulnerability in fear of becoming a burden. And yet with her friends? She can do it all in the blink of an eye. She can sacrifice sleep and food to help a friend through a rough patch. She can encourage them to seek proper help and offer support. She can comfort people without making them feel like their emotions are troublesome to her.

Yet, she can’t speak up in fear of being ignored -- in fear of people knowing she’s been ignored -- in fear of people watching her be ignored. She can’t speak up about her vulnerable feelings, about what her anxiety puts her through, about how she doesn’t feel good enough. She doesn’t think she can stomach a pat on the back and a “cheer up!” She doesn’t think she can handle them telling her it’s all true. Telling her that no, she isn’t good enough.

She can’t handle the embarrassment of anyone using it against her -- as a bit of friendly banter that’ll actually crush her to a bloody stump.

Y/N’s done a good job of it if she’s honest -- of keeping her feelings and emotions to herself. Not that any of her friends have ever really made an effort to ask or to understand the way her body has its tells for every emotional turmoil she faces.

But she’s surrounded by beautiful people all the time and she doesn’t think she’s anywhere near their standards. So while, for moments, she can force herself to forget about those things, she’s always reminded that she isn’t enough because they’re all so much more than her.

She doesn’t know how people have picked up the way she shifts uncomfortably when sex is mentioned, or dates and guys and women. She gets anxious that one of them will ask her about her love life, or if she joins in and agrees that a certain guy is attractive that they’ll laugh and tease her that she doesn’t have a chance.

She can’t handle that.

Maybe that’s why she hasn’t told anybody about her incredibly overwhelming love for Harry for the past three years.

Because Harry is undoubtedly too good for her. He’s handsome and smart, kind and compassionate. He’s overwhelmingly talented and his voice is a soothing drawl that she thinks is the most relaxing sound in the world. And what’s she? She isn’t knee-buckling gorgeous. Barely even girl-next-door pretty. She isn’t talented like him and their friends, she doesn’t have a thing about her that everyone relates her to. And yes, she’s kind and compassionate, but she doesn’t think that’s enough.

It’s not enough.

It’s never enough.

So she keeps it to herself. She pretends like it doesn’t kill her to watch him pine after models and bring them around for their group activities, she pretends it doesn’t hurt when he gushes about some girl when they’re in the studio, writing up his experiences. She pretends it doesn’t kill her when most days, he doesn’t spare her a glance.

Y/N knows she doesn’t help her own predicament -- that she should definitely be speaking up about how alone and neglected she feels by her friends. She knows that she should be searching for her happiness instead of wasting her time on people that don’t care. She knows she shouldn’t be such a pushover, but she doesn’t have it in her.

So, she pretends that she’s happy and they all fall for it. Or maybe they don’t and they just don’t care enough to ask.

//

It’s been a long day, a gruelling 10 hours in the studio and while they’re struggling for a melody and some lyrics, Y/N’s got the perfect beat and the most vulnerable words. She’s yet to tell them, though. Every time she’s opened her mouth, someone’s cut her off and a little bit of her courage has been chipped at each intervention.

“Think we should maybe change the melody of it? Maybe make it slower?” Harry’s fingers are gently strumming at the guitar strings, his head cocked to the side as he watches Mitch copy the gentle melody he plays.

Y/N purses her lips, the confidence to suggest her ideas shot through the window. She catches a glimpse of her watch, noticing the time and her eyes bulge slightly. She’s got five minutes to get to her sisters to watch her niece for the night, how did she forget the time!?

Slowly standing from her seat, she searches around for her purse and checks her phone. No texts or calls, that’s a good sign. If she’s fast enough, she’ll only be a couple of minutes late.

“You off?” Sarah pipes up, notices the bag hanging from Y/N’s shoulder.

She nods. “Yeah, forgot I have my niece for the night.” She waves goodbye, voice gentle as she leaves the room of the studio.

It’s not until she’s halfway down the hall she hears a voice call out for her and she halts in her tracks. Turning, she sees Harry jogging over to her, Y/N’s heart in her throat as he smiles kindly.

“Is it okay if I pop by your sisters later? Maybe you could help me go through some lyrics or something?”

Y/N can’t help the subtle blush at his suggestion, the idea of him wanting to spend time alone with her, that he wants her input on lyrics for a single.

So she nods with a beaming smile, fuzziness in her blood and she thinks she might be safe enough to suggest the music she wanted to earlier.

“Um, actually. I played around with some chords and lyrics a few days ago, if you maybe wanted to give them a try? Totally get it if they’re not any good, though.”

She laughs it off in a desperate attempt for him to not think she’d be upset if he didnt like her music, but in reality, it would absolutely, undoubtedly crush her.

Harry nods, a sigh of appreciation slipping off his tongue and he takes the notes from her hands gleefully.

“Thanks, petal. I’ll give you a call when I’m on my way.”

With a swift kiss to her cheek, she watches as Harry jogs back into the studio room, leaving her a nervous and overwhelmed mess.

It’s not until almost 11pm that Y/N receives a call that Harry is on his way over from the studio. Ayla has been asleep for the past 4 hours and Y/N has spent her free time with a couple glasses of wine and some music sheets.

The wine has mostly been to help the nerves if she’s honest. It’s not often she and Harry spend much time alone together, and she feels quite honoured that Harry has come to her for lyrical help.

“Knock knock,” she hears a gentle voice call from the hall as Harry lets himself in, mindful not to wake a sleeping Ayla.

“In here,” Y/N calls back, heart racing and she knows she’s stupid for feeling this way. It’s Harry, just Harry.

When he walks in, she gets a good look at him and her brows involuntarily raise. Flushed cheeks, slightly dishevelled hair.

“What exactly did you get up to when I left?”

Harry chuckles, running a hand through his messy mop and plopping beside her on the sofa. “Mitch got a couple bottles of wine to celebrate the new single.”

Y/N raises a brow again, lips pursed together. She knows she’s babysitting, but yet another event that she’s not been included in. The new single is ready and no one bothered to tell her. It’s like she’s not even part of the team.

“New single… it’s finished then?”

Harry nods enthusiastically. “All thanks to you, petal. That music and those lyrics… where did it come from? Y/N, it’s literally perfect.”

She blushes at the comment, at the complement. She doesn’t know where to look, she just knows she can’t look at him. So she looks to her lap and shrugs her shoulders in response.

“Just words.”

Harry scoffs, takes her hands in his and she swears she's about to throw up. “They’re not just words, Y/N. That song is beautiful.”

Y/N smiles sheepishly. “You think so?”

“I know so. I can’t wait for you to hear it.”

She meets his eyes again, a drunken gloss over his iris’, cheeks still flushed and lips just perfectly plump.

Harry notices the way she watches his mouth, finds himself staring at hers. Those pretty plump lips. He’s never been this close to her before, never really looked at her in this way.

She’s pretty, he can’t deny that. Reckons she’s got this most simplistic beauty. Nothing about her stands out, but there’s not anything about her that he’d change.

Y/N’s about to move away, to clear her throat and offer him a drink, but Harry’s hand reaches for her jaw and he smears his lips against her in a drunken mess of a kiss.

And it’s not just a peck, no. His lips encapsulate hers, tongue dancing along the tip of hers, fingers grasping at the hair on the side of her head. She kisses him back, just as feverishly, her mind on overdrive at the fact that Harry is kissing her.

Harry is kissing her.

But just as quickly as it starts, it stops.

Harry pulls away with a sharp breath, Y/N desperately trying to catch hers. Her fingers reach for her mouth, trying to believe that this really happened.

It takes a moment for her to realise Harry is no longer holding the side of her face, that he’s shuffled a foot or two away from her on the sofa, eyes wide as if he didn’t mean to do what he just did.

And her heart sinks.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

She shakes her head and clears her throat. “No, it’s okay, really I-“

“No, it’s not,” he cuts her off. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure what came over me.”

Y/N’s shoulders deflate, a lump swelling in her throat at what he’s just said. He regrets kissing her.

“I think I should go.”

She doesn’t look at him when he stands, she can’t face him, or the look of disgust she’s sure he has.

“Let’s uh, let’s just forget about this,” he motions between the two of them. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone. It was a mistake, I’m sorry.”

The bittersweet taste of rejection pools in her eyes, heart sinking to the very bottom of her feet that stay planted on the carpet beneath her. She doesn’t hear Harry apologise again, nor does she hear him walk away and out the door.

Instead, all she can hear is white noise breaking through the sickening silence.

Y/N can’t breathe, not properly. She’s panting through shallow breaths, begging her lungs to offer some relief. To no avail.

The only thing that seems to break through the silence, is the consistent pinging of her phone. She blindly reaches for it, praying and hoping it’s Harry. Praying he’s apologising and begging to come back and confess that he just got scared, that he doesn't regret the kiss.

But it’s not.

Her phone is filled with messages from the group chat, all congratulating Harry for the finalisation of the single. Y/N is about to lock her phone and throw it across the room when she catches a glimpse of a text from Mitch.

Congrats, H. Amelia is gonna love the song… wish you’d write a song about me xx

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