#HOLY FUCK YOU'RE BLEEDING THERE -- OOC

[luckydxy]

new era ara is just me siphoning every ounce of feminine rage i have into one unstable little lady.

#-- TBD #HOLY FUCK YOU'RE BLEEDING THERE -- OOC #more insane young women in power please. i think it would do us some good. #i think all old men in power should explode into rainbows & hand the reigns over to teenage girls #sheogorath had the right idea #pinned tbh

[crxssroads]

I've been Rebranding myself online along with my irl reboot, but idk if I want to commit to a name change on my rp blogs or not hrm hum hmm.

#-- TBD #HOLY FUCK YOU'RE BLEEDING THERE -- OOC #i am autumn & autumn is me. everyone knows me as autumn. but what if. i didn't want to be known anymore.

[oliver1irl]

SBG AIDEN X Gn!Reader

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚AIDEN WITH AN S/O THAT SOMEHOW ALWAYS GETS HURT˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

DETAILS:

(This sorta takes place at the beginning of s2!)(HEADCANON/ONESHOT)

(ROMANTIC)

(WARNINGS: Mentions of scars and cuts, swearing, Mentions of Logan's bullies (These mf's need a warning) , and angst if you squint hard enough)

Based on 'Mama's boy by Dominic fike' (specifically the lyric 'half of my heart is in your chest') and 'Sour Switchblade by Elita' (the lyric 'whatever you go through, I do too')

DIALOG COLORS:

AIDEN: Red

You/READER: Purple

(KINDA OOC BUT ITS OK)

ᯓ★Aiden somehow always finds himself wondering how the hell you're getting these cuts and scars! He’s aware that he can be chaotic and get hurt sometimes but you are covered in scars from pranks and adventures…This is where he starts to get much more careful around you.

ᯓ★Even though Aiden is bubbly, chaotic, and carefree, he still cares…He always patches you up (he's gotten used to patching himself up or seeing ben patch him up) it's followed by him cuddling you…The poor boy loves you a bunch, he just wants his lover to be safe <3

ᯓ★One time in the phantom realm, you got attacked by a phantom…you were bleeding from the side of the head and you nearly gave the poor boy a heart attack, let’s say that Aiden dealt with that phantom (He bashed its head in with a rock)

ᯓ★When you two cuddle he kisses every scar that is on your face, and he holds you gently but securely…poor baby just wants you to be safe. He loves you too much to let you get hurt one too many times...

༘˚⋆｡⋆𖦹.✧˚ (3rd person pov)༘˚⋆｡⋆𖦹.✧

You came to Aiden’s house since you like to hang out with him after school…Today you got into a fight with one of Logan’s bullies since you had enough of ‘its’ shit and you won the fight but ‘it’ did hit you hard a couple of times. You knocked on the door of the Clark residence and Aiden answered..You had a cut on your nose bridge, a busted-up lip, and a few cuts and bruises….

“Hey love- HOLY SHIT what happened” He cupped your face with both hands. “I got into a fight with one of Logan's bullies, I won though…” Aiden kissed your forehead and dragged you inside..Once you two were inside, Aiden sat you down on his couch and then went to get bandaids..You know the poor boy is worried about you, he’s such a chaotic sweetheart. You feel a bit bad for making him worry, Aiden shouldn't have to worry this much..You can't help but think if he’s tired of you :(.....

Aiden came back with colorful bandaids and put them on your face and knuckles..Then suddenly Aiden hugs you tight, and you hear him say “Dont ever fucking do this shit again, I can't lose you”. . .You run your hands through his hair and kiss his forehead. . .You two fell asleep, cuddled on the couch. . .Aiden was little spoon and You were big spoon…

(RAHHHHHHHHHH I LOVE THIS SM!!!!!)

#sbg (webtoon) #aiden sbg #school bus graveyard webtoon #aiden clark #sbg #fluff #angst if you squint #Aiden cares to much abt you

[neo-novaa]

hi pretty!! Hope you're having a great new year so far <3

Here's an idea: jake sully x doctor!reader where he gets hurt or something and goes to the lab for a checkup and meets this new doctor that he never met when he was a human. He thinks reader is very attractive while taking care of him and examining everything and starts getting flirty 👀

Could be fem!reader or gn!reader, whatever you feel like it's best!! Don't feel pressured if you don't like this req, I'll totally understand if so! Have a nice day/evening! ♡

- 🦢 anon

swan anon i love you so much thank you for putting this into my brain. --

doctors orders

*ੈ✩ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jake sully x doctor!human!reader

*ੈ✩ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: brief mentions of blood and stitches with some terribly written flirting, very ooc jake i fear,,also only partially proofread

*ੈ✩ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.4k

*ੈ✩ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: definitely went a bit off the rails and might've written a bit too much,,.. hope this is what you had in mind swan anon!!

jake was a lot more traditional than his fellow na’vi. he was spiritual, sure, but only to a certain degree. yes, he believed that with certain herbs and salves, small wounds could heal overnight, and light illnesses could fade in less than a week.

however, for something like a strong gash spewing blood down his face, Jake would much prefer to go to someone whose main form of medical practice was rooted in a more scientific reasoning

that, and a part of him was genuinely worried about bleeding out before getting back to the clan's tsahik.

so, he opted for flying over to the lab. it was quicker, and much, much more reliable.

the only unfortunate thing about going to the lab was that it wasn’t necessarily avatar friendly, seeing as though he literally couldn’t even fit through the door.

he landed the ikran a safe distance from the lab, mentally whispering a quiet “stay” before breaking tsaheylu. 

at this point, jake couldn’t rely too heavily on his feet (having blood gushing from your head for a solid twenty minutes can definitely have that effect), as he barely managed to stumble towards the window of the lab.

if he had been in more control of his body, jake would’ve gracefully walked up to the incredibly out-of-place structure, knocked on the window, and motioned for the first doctor he saw to come outside. ideally, that's how it would’ve gone. because jake was suave. he was cool, confident, calculated--

but what ended up happening consisted of jake stumbling up towards the lab, banging only once but very loudly on the window, and passing out on the soft grass beneath him.

---

“holy shit!” jake yells as he sits up quickly, the pounding in his chest matching the hammering in his skull. and when his vision unblurred and that burning smell finally left his nose, he was finally able to get a good look at you.

“hi.” is all you said, your oxygen mask obstructing your voice. he looked down to your hands, noting a small, plastic and broken canister.

“the fuck is that?” he murmured, sitting up, and resting his back against the lab. he hissed at his head making contact with the wall behind him. jake reached up to his forehead, finding that it was, suprisingly, no longer bleeding.

“i needed to make sure that you weren’t going to die on me.”

he glances at you, his gaze fluttering all over your face.

“yeah…” he mutters, straightening his posture. “who are you?”

you move closer to him-- wow, okay, a lot closer to him. you’re standing between his legs, and yet still you’re barely a head taller than him.

he barely registers the fact that you’ve given him your name.

“so what’s the prognosis doc? is it fatal?” you’re wiping away the dried blood from his forehead with a damp cloth, not even beginning to bother with how much is on his face, his shoulder, his torso…

his very, very lean torso--

“yeah, actually, it is.” you joke. “i’m not a real doctor. this is all a dream.”

jake chuckles, you can feel his breath on your chest. even in your tank top, the sticky humidity is clinging to your skin, and the closeness between you two isn’t doing anything to help that.

because of body heat, of course. no other reason.

“i wouldn’t doubt it,” he rasps. “you look like you could be straight out of a dream.”

he feels your hands still on his forehead, and you almost drop the bloody handcloth. you cover it up with a quick chuckle, beginning to move down to his cheek. “gosh, how much blood did you lose sully?”

“you know my name?” he quickly interjects.

“of course i do,” you respond absentmindedly, trying your best to wipe away the dried blood from the curve of his jaw. “everyone does. you’re a bit of a local legend.”

you have to laugh at your own words. a bit? that was quite the understatement. you were sure jake’s name would be in the na’vi’s songs for generations to come. at this point, his name was probably engraved in the minds of every soldier that the RDA had on pandora before they were booted off this moon.

but he didn’t need to know that. you didn’t want anything else to go straight to his head, it might cause him to start bleeding again.

“so how’d this happen?” you say, filling the stiff silence.

“i’ll answer your question if you answer one of mine.” there it is, the confidence was coming back. must've had something to do with the blood loss, he notes.

“that’s very mature,” you step away, glancing quickly at the blood on his torso, and deciding that he could probably take care of that himself. “and also not how this works.”

you pull out the tube of numbing cream, hoping that there’d be enough for a wound of this degree, of this size. in proportion to a human, it’d be more than enough. but, lucky for you, jake was nearly twice your size, meaning that the gash on his forehead was twice the size of the ones you're used to.

you resume your position between his legs (it doesn’t go unnoticed by either of you) and begin to lathe the clear substance right around the problem area. it’s cold to the touch, and surprisingly shocks jake.

shocks him enough to flinch,

shocks him enough to put his hands on your waist.

you’re sure he notices the sudden pause in your breathing, stupid oxygen mask makes that shit way too loud.

“hey-- easy, shit still hurts.” he hisses. you ignore the way his words make your face hot. 

“sorry,” you barely mumble, suddenly hyper-focused on the way that his hands are still on your body.

those few moments of silence make your stomach churn. you’re positive jake has noticed both his hands on your waist, and the lack of protest that you’ve put up. you’re careful not to move, not even an inch, because that would bring attention to his hands. too much attention and he might just move them.

you’re applying the unnecessary second layer when you decide to speak. “this stuff is really strong, give it a few minutes and you won’t be able to feel anything on your forehead.”

jake nods to the best of his ability. “a few minutes?”

“a few minutes.” you echo.

“a few minutes gives us some time,” he says, thumbs fussing with the edges of your top.

his words and ministrations catch you off guard. so much so that you noticeably tense. “what do you mean by that?” you say, managing to hide the anxiety gnawing the back of your throat.

from the corner of your vision, you can see his bright eyes glance up at you, flicker down to your lips, and back to your eyes.

“how’d you wind up here.”

you decide that it might be hard to explain why jake would need a third layer of this so-called “strong stuff,” so you decide to best to take a step back and away from him.

you hide dissapointment when you feel his hands leave your waist.

“i’m gonna need you to be a bit more specific on what ‘here’ means.” you’re reorginizing your medkit, trying your best to avoid looking at him again until the redness fades from your face.

“this lab. in the middle of nowhere.” is all he says, but you can hear him shuffling behind you. you decide to sit down, trying to set up your automatic suture. 

“technically, i came for quaritch.” you look up. he’s nervous. “i’m far from a soldier, trust me." you clarify, eyes falling back on the appliance. "i came in with a second flight of doctors, scientists, xenobiologists, et cetera., people that quaritch knew he’d need if he wanted to colonize this moon. i mean, parker was here for the money, you knew that-- everyone did. but quaritch wasn't really part of that mission, not at heart.”

you’re fumbling with the device-- god, how did these things work? you remember norm showing you a dozen times, but the memory never quite stuck with you.

“but obviously, with the great war, i immediately left home base with a handful of other nerds like me who didn't want any blood on their ha-- okay, fuck this thing,” you toss the automatic suture back into the med kit, digging around for its more primitive, manual counterpart.

“what’s that?” he asks, bringing a hand to the paste his forehead.

“first of all, don’t touch that, it’s in a really fragile state right now and if you get too much on your fingers, you won’t feel them for a few hours." you notice the way his hand immediately drops into his lap, and the way his ears are sheepishly pinned to the sides of his head. "second, this should be more of a trade-off. you ask me a question, i ask you. mutually beneficial.”

“mutually beneficial?” jake says, smiling knowingly.

you shake your head, biting back a smile. “you’re gross.”

you’ve finally found the surgical needle and thread when you remember your initial question. “so what happened? what’d you do to yourself to get us into this mess.”

“oh yeah? there’s an ‘us’ now?” jake rasps with a smirk in his voice. you’re about to quip back when he quickly carries on with his answer. “i mean i was just out there, flying, reflecting,” oh, he’s getting poetic now?  “trying to just…be alone for a little while, when this fucking stingbat comes straight at me-- i mean straight at me, as if it had some personal vendetta against me,”

you walk up to him with your needle and stitching thread, interrupting his incredible storytelling to wipe away the foggy salve with a handtowel. “can you feel me?” you say, jabbing a finger around the spot.

“i’d like to feel you,” he breathes against the flat of your chest-- dear god why do you keep doing that? why do you keep standing so close to him? none of this was necessary! you could accomplish the same things if you stood at his side!

“fuck off, i wish i let you stay passed out on the ground.”

“you and i both know that isn’t true sweetheart,” jake hums, sighing before continuing with his story. “but it flew right at me, trying to eat my face. i was able to pull it away, but the bitch got a piece of me to-go.”

“wow…the brave jake sully and his formidable opponent,” you lean closer to his face, finally sticking the needle through his skin. “a stingbat.”

his eye twitches at the quick, dull poke. “you sound good when you say my name.”

“you sound better when you’re not saying anything.” you quip.

“and what’s a pretty thing like you doing on pandora?” jake grins.

“patching up a klutz who got his face bitten off by a god damn stingbat.” you chaff, and the way he smiles doesn’t go unnoticed by you. 

“i didn’t really have that much of a choice,” you decide to elaborate. “it was either dying on that shitty neon planet, or try to do something good in my life.” you’re halfway done, and jake is messing with the cuff of your loose fitting pants. 

“which is?” he’s looking up at you again, with those big bright eyes that are making your job really, really difficult.

“which is stumbling around until toruk makto gets his face bitten off by a stingbat--”

“you’re never letting that go, are you?” he interjects, flicking at your ankle.

“hey! ouch! if it weren’t for me, you’d be passed out on the ground, bleeding out of your forehead. not a very noble way to go, is it?” you say, gently kicking his thigh. you finish off the stitch and take a step back, admiring your clean work. 

“guess that means i owe you my life, hm?” he’s putting his hands together, looking up at you with pleading eyes, feigning desperation. “come on doc, what can i do to repay you?”

you roll your eyes, turning around to repackage everything that you took out from your kit. “i can think of one or two things that you could do to settle your debt.” you say, your words laced with something sultry.

“yeah?” you hear jake from behind you. “and what might that be?”

you shrug the kit over your shoulder, meeting his gaze. when he’s like this, sitting down, it makes him seem so much less intimidating. 

“avoid getting your face bitten off by a sti--”

“say stingbat and i’ll throw this at you.” he’s holding a rock-- where the hell did he get a rock?

you hesitate.

“a stingba--”

jake throws it, missing you by a mile. you laugh, loud, it’s damn near a cackle.

“you’re lucky i lost so much blood. if i was at peak performance i could’ve gotten rid of you.” he’s standing now, you have to pretend like it doesn’t make him infinitely more threatening.

“just like how you got rid of that stingbat?”

“shut up-- need to find another damn rock and actually hit you this time…” he’s stumbling over to his banshee, which -- to your surprise, hadn’t moved much; it seemed to be watching you as you were patching him up, a quick reminder of the bond that some na’vi have with their ikran.

he’s whispering something to his ride when you decide that’s your queue to leave. you’ve done your job, you fixed him up, all in a day's work.

but still, you turn around, finding jake staring right at you.

“don’t get anything in it. like…mud. or anything else. could cause an infection.” you’re suddenly stumbling over your words. “maybe rub some more salves on there-- i honestly don’t really know how na’vi medicine works.”

“definitely seems like something you should know more about.” he jeers.

you nod, pursing your lips. you take a few steps closer to him, very quickly noting the sudden aprehension in his banshee’s stature.

“just come back in two weeks so i can take the stitches out.” 

“maybe i should come over earlier for a checkup.” jake says, coiling his forearms with the banshees antenna. 

“oh, and you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” you say, eyeing him.

“you know i would sweetheart.”

you sigh and shrug your shoulders, taking a few steps away from his ikran. “fine, a week.”

“two days.” he bargains.

“four days, and i’ll be waiting for you.” you say, and his lack of a rebuttal is a silent sign of agreement. 

all jake does is bow his head, slip his visor over his brow bone, and take off into the sky of the early evening.

and all you do is wipe the sweat off your palms, and linger a little too fondly as his ikran disappears over the forest.

#avatar #atwow #avatar fic #atwow fanfiction #jake sully #jake sully x reader #✧. ┊ avatar ! #✧. ┊ ufo !

[straighttohellbuddy]

the red means i love you {c!Technoblade}

Summary: Yandere!Technoblade. Fake gods are worshiped with wine and flowers; real gods require blood.

Need to Know: They/Them. Yandere!Technoblade / Enabler!Reader. established relationship. DARKFIC & LIGHT SMUT PLEASE READ WARNINGS VERY CAREFULLY !!

A/N: 2755 words. hey holy shit read the warnings i mean it. this really isn't for everyone. but anyways i started this months ago lol and it makes me feel some type of way. probably OOC as all fuck. if you do end up reading this, 1. is it coherent? 2. is it any good? :/

Warnings: Romanticisation/Rationalisation of Yandere Behaviour; NON-GRAPHIC SMUT (no genitals specified), GRAPHIC KNIFE-PLAY BLOOD-PLAY AND PAIN-PLAY, SEMI-VIOLENT BODY WORSHIP?? OBJECTIFICATION. Violence. Scarification. Bondage. Mutual Obsession. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Citrus Scale: ❤️ GRAPEFRUIT ❤️

{ yandere!dsmp masterpost }

He gets antsy in isolation; the voices are hungry, and fresh bruises will never compare to cherry-red blood on the snow, on his hands, like wine the way you'd seen him savour it before the regret flashes across his face. Blood for the Blood God cheered like the fleeting high was worth the exhaustion the whole ordeal brought with it. You'd seen it time and again; violence simply for violence sake was tiring. It's been a long time since he'd felt like killing for anything or anyone that wasn't you, and since you're by his side in the tundra, there was little reason for him to jump to violence, or at least, violence you didn't relish in.

Because you basked in reminders of his power, finesse, how easily he could wreak devastation, and there was something thrilling about when he turned those skills upon you, knowing he loved you too much to break you beyond repair. But there was also something intoxicating when he almost would, when he'd spend days lavishing praise upon you as he cared for you, tended to the wounds he'd inflicted, nursed you back to health.

In the split second after he'd land a hit while sparring, and he's breathing heavy, eyes wild, and the pain hasn't hit you yet, you see the way his eyes light up. This time it had been a deep gash in your cheek, which had genuinely startled you, and he turns immediately, apologising, saying he lost himself in the moment.

"Don't worry about me," you tell him as he takes your face in his hands, the contact stinging as blood begins to seep from the wounds, "you wouldn't kill me," you assured him, and it's as if he needed to hear the words out loud to believe them, his gaze softening, your hands resting on his hips, "and if you did, we both know you would have your reasons."

"You're so..." but he can't even finish the compliment, syrupy affection in his eyes as he looks at you, still holds your face. He can't find the words in this moment, cant say what you know he's thinking, 'you bleed for me' but you can still hear it. His gaze is endearing as he looks at his own hand on your cheek, before holding it up in the sunlight, your blood shiny and slick on his fingers.

You take his hand in yours, love unspoken but well heard as you softly kiss his knuckles. Carefully, you bring his hand back to your cheek, the stinging wound and the warm, red proof that you were alive. When you pull him in for a kiss, he's holding your face tighter this time, the pressure searing beneath his touch as you kiss him; the tense set of his shoulders had eased, however, and to you, that's all that mattered.

The moment, he tells you later, soothed the voices, at least for the time being. You, stretched out next to him in bed, carefully applying bandaids and ice packs to your more recent training wounds, make a noise of interest.

"I don't like hurting you like that," he admits, voice low, sounding almost remorseful. Instinctively you turn your attention from your bandage application, to him, curling an arm over his chest, resting your chin on his shoulder.

"Like what?" Because he's not one for admitting remorse, especially not about something like this; you've got well cared for scars to the contrary.

"Like in a way we haven't discussed," it takes him a long moment to find the words, but you know its still not entirely the truth; as if your awareness of the altercation was crucial to his enjoyment of it. He got caught up like this a lot, when injuries were accidents. The problem was that it wasn't his intention, it wasn't premeditated; you never minded the lack of warning, he'd had your complete trust for as long as he'd had your heart. You knew what he was capable of, but that he loved you, that's why you trusted him. He, however, knew what he was capable of, and loved you, which is why accidents scared him half to death.

"But it felt good, didn't it? Better than usual," as you say that, he looks to you, sharp and calculating, gaze focused on the patching job he'd done on your cheek earlier, "do you want that? The blood?"

"I don't need it," he says softly, kissing your nose, "I like what we have, I like training with you, you don't-"

"But do you want it?" You ask, reaching up to touch his cheek, your fingertips feather light as you trace where the scar would be on him, and his eyes close for a moment. He leans into your touch.

"The things I crave," he begins, before amending with the faintest smile, "the things other than you, don't matter out here; I'm keeping us safe. The violence for the sake of blood, it's exhausting to keep searching for," he groaned faintly, before adding, "and dangerous," his gaze slides to you, and you know he's not concerned about himself. You, however, held his face for a long moment.

"And what of blood without violence?" You ask softly; he goes very still, breath caught alongside the thought, "Blood for the Blood God," When you lower your hand to his chest, his eyes open. Dark and thoughtful, there's hesitation there, confusion almost.

"You don't know what you're offering," his tone is like ice water, a shock to your system with how cold it is. There's no warning when he sits up, out of your embrace, leaving you cold and confused, "I'm trying to keep you safe." Accusatory, as if you're in the wrong, as if you should know better.

He leaves before you've even formulated a response, tense and seemingly furious and you have no idea how or why the situation changed so dramatically. It's always hard to try and sleep alone nowadays, but you don't have much of a choice.

Techno comes home still wreathed in the heat and horrible sufler smell of the Nether, sweet words on his lips as he curls into bed beside you. None of them are an actual apology, but he's got a talented hand between your thighs as he tells you he loves you, and it's enough to ease your fretting, half asleep mind for the time being.

It seems safer to leave that topic well enough alone for the time being, but it doesn't leave your mind. The thoughts that begin to haunt you encroach on every part of your life. Intrusive, idle chatter starts up when you're training and the sun glances off his blade and catches your gaze, and won't shut up as you're preparing dinner together, and the chatter roars with approval whenever you so much as get a paper cut. Perhaps this is what it's like to experience the voices that clamour for blood and violence in your love's head, though more and more you're sure it's your mind's way of encouraging you, because there are moments where Techno looks at you, eyes dark with a barely concealed desperation, and all thoughts in your mind go silent.

"Don't look at me like that if you're not going to do anything about it," you teased, catching him in one of those dark, thoughtful moments he was becoming increasingly prone to. Techno, however, is pointedly quiet, averting his gaze, light from the fire making him seem somehow even more dramatic, "you've been trapped in there a lot lately," settling yourself on the sofa beside him, you curl up by him, cheek against his shoulder.

Still, he remains quiet.

The crackle of the fire fills the otherwise silent room, though Techno shifts to wrap his arm around you, pulling you a little closer. You feel when he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

"Wish I could be trapped in here," he mumbles against you, drawing circles on your shoulder with his finger, "figure out how you live like you don't feel fear."

"I have you," you respond with absolute, blunt sincerity.

"What?" It sounds as if he genuinely didn't expect your response.

"I have you," it comes out a murmur, angling your face to his, nose to nose as your gaze locks with his, "why would I ever feel afraid." His pupils are blown so wide with want that you're half afraid you'll get lost in them. He must feel the erratic beating of your heart, must know the thrill you feel in this moment -

"You should fear what I want to do to you when you say things like that," his voice is low and you feel like you could melt at the implications, which was probably not his intention, but you didn't care.

"And yet you don't even do anything," you sighed languidly, eyelashes fluttering as you find your gaze dropping to his lips, "what a tease -" but then there's two fingers in your mouth, effectively shutting you up.

"And if I tore you apart, would that make you happy?" He practically snarls, but you angle your head to make sure he can see the dreamy look in your eyes. After a few moments of intensity, he moves his hand from your jaw, your mouth, to grip your thigh, to pull you closer.

"Is it what you want?" You feel elated, all kinds of heady and fire-warm. This is the precipice, the moment where he yet again understands you truly mean you'd do anything for him, and his hesitation will evaporate -

"More than anything," he admits, as if his honesty had left him breathless, and he kisses you hard before you have time to think. Pulling you into his lap, he takes the opportunity to fist his hand in your hair. When he pulls hard, it's the first of many wonderfully aching, stinging, bruising moments of the night.

And you learn that there is no blood without violence, not for the Blood God...

There's a sharp pain the moment the blade first breaches your skin, metal along your sternum cool before the pain brings with it heat. You try to bite back your yelp, but can't quite manage it. You've been cut before but never so deliberately, not by someone who looks at you like Techno does now. Techno, sitting carefully on your thighs, doesn't seem to acknowledge it; he drags the blade down the centre of your chest with an almost agonising unwaivability, tears springing to your eyes, trying not to squirm, to make the pain worse.

"Techno," you whimper, his name escaping you almost involuntarily, nervously tugging at your wrist bindings above your head. There's something dark and strangely detached in Techno's gaze as he meets yours.

"I'm okay," you murmur unconvincingly, "I- it hurts more than I thought it would is all, I'm sorry I'm-" though for all your babbling you don't even consider asking him to stop. He presses the flat side of the blade to your ribs and reaches out with his free hand to carefully wipe away your tears.

"You're so good," there's something hungry in his eyes, "so good to me... beautiful like this." And something clicks in your brain; you'd do anything to keep him talking to you like that, looking at you like that.

"More- please, again," you choke out, a desperate gasp as pain and pleasure weave together in your mind. Something about the way you've already begun to beg has his breath catching in his throat, an animalistic noise escaping him. Already his self restraint is all but shredded; before you knew he'd hesitate, or check in with you, but now -

"More what?" A demand for an answer. The blade is ice cold and feather light against your skin.

"Blood, please," stutters from your lips as you try to lean up to kiss him. Instead, he keeps one hand firm on your shoulder against the table, wearing a pleased smile as he instead dips to keys you, "my love, make me bleed."

He seems to derive pleasure from the way you whimper against his lips, your faint noises of pain as he carefully carves into the skin of your sternum while kissing you. It's starting small, he tells you, at least for now, having left a simple geometric pattern on your sternum that he admires as he fucks you. He lavishes you with praise, works hard to get you off but leaves you a bloody mess until well after the afterglow has faded.

When he tells you it will leave a beautiful scar, something inside you lights up with joy, with love.

"I can take more, I -" already you're babbling, offering. He hasn't untied you; the ache of your bound wrists is comfortingly familiar as you allow yourself to be taken care of.

"Don't," Technoblade warns you firmly, looking up from where he's cleaning and dressing the wounds. Even so, he seems calmer and steadier than he's been in a long while, as if granted a brief moment of mental peace after what had just occurred.

"You keep offering something very dangerous, but maybe your naivete is part of why I find you so precious," he pauses for a long moment before leaning in to press a kiss to the edge of the bloody pattern he was responsible for. A thin line of your blood shines by the corner of his mouth as he pulls back and smirks up at you. You're desperate to kiss him, but you knew it would interrupt his care, and you'd probably remain restrained past the point of it being enjoyable.

"Did it help?"

He is quiet for a long moment after your question. Finally, he spoke.

"How much did it hurt?"

"What?"

"Tell me how much it hurt," there was an unexpected dark edge to his voice now, something pleased and almost smug. He's holding bandages but his hands have stilled, "when you begged me to carve into you like that," it's that hunger again, the same you'd seen the moment you'd winced and gasped and squirmed once he'd finally put the blade down in favour of admiring his work, now free hand between your thighs.

Now he's just... admiring you, bound, marked, still comfortable at his mercy. Looking at the angry red lines in your skin, he can see the blood slowly seeping from them, his personal form of art. Carefully, you wet your lips, shifting the barest amount against the still bloodstained linens.

"It was awful," you murmur honestly, "it still is kind of unbearable, more than I expected." He blinks slowly, hands still hovering inches away from your torso. He hears it, you know he hears it, the way you speak so carefully about the pain without a hint of negativity. He's a sudden rush of movement, kissing you with newfound intensity, one hand coming to cup your face while the other he presses flat against the still fresh wound.

"I could kill you, you silly, porcelain thing," he groans, as if turned on by the very idea he's warning you about.

"Could you?" A breathless, wanton gasp escapes you, and it turns to a pained whimper as he presses against the wounds more insistently, which he echoes with a pleased noise of his own, "please, I need you to -"

For the first time in a long time the voices seem sated. They've had their fill of violence, of blood, of you, they're practically sick with how they've gorged themselves on all you've offered for them. But Techno himself? He loves to know just how much it hurts, and loves to make you beg for it nonetheless. He loves knowing how far you'll let him go, how much you'll endure and still ask for more. He loves the proof of your devotion. He will never get enough.

And you?

You want to wear the scars like the proof of your love for him, with pride. You now understand and appreciate the pain he's inflicted on others in your honour. You relish in knowing you can satisfy all he craves in a way that no-one else ever would.

But mostly, you crave those moments, the bloody handprints he leaves on your thighs, the gentle way he caresses the ice cold blade against your skin, and the look in his eyes as you whimper, like you're the only thing in the world that has ever mattered.

#technoblade x reader #technoblade imagine #techno x reader #techno imagine #c!technoblade x reader #c!techno x reader #c!technoblade imagine #c!techno imagine #yandere technoblade #yandere c!technoblade #yandere techno #yandere smut #yandere c!techno #cyltlanp #Spotify

[ccaptain]

ok tell me how to fuck him up 💔💔💔💔

I SUPPOSE THIS IS A MEME NOW -- @snowtombedstar

i. the classic, to start with: emotional distance kills the entire thing u have with kaeya. completely and utterly. hurting him, playing victim and showing 0 desire to have him back and being willing to work towards forgiveness will VERY quickly turn you from his lover to someone who, like everyone else that has been in his past, doesn't value him and simply used him either for sex or to not be alone for a while. either way....... big fucking ouch? not only this confirms to kaeya that he's disposable, only good for his looks and a quick fuck, and turns his future interactions with the person into more trauma fuel. there's little to no redemption past this point, truly. either the person has an holy revelation and shifts of 180° and gives up everything to pursue kaeya ( and even then this might not work ) or the trauma stays permanently and everything is fucked :D

ii. confusing the lines between devotion and love also sends you packing: worship him like a god, and he goes from slighty aroused to outright uncomfortable. worship him like... you know...... the gods who raided his homeland. yeah! yeah that is FOR SURE a good idea and will absolutely not make him feel objectified!

iii. falling for his 'captain' persona and not recognizing that under there he's fucked? yeah. this mistake is an istant dealbreaker. he'll humor you, and... that's it

iv. competition? as in, try to romance multiple lovers while you're trying for kaeya, too? another instant dealbreaker. he doesn't come second, or third, or fourth. he wants to come FIRST and if it's somehow a kink to collect lovers for you then you either you keep this shit under super well hidden wraps, or not only he will dump you, but he'll work hard to humiliate your life decisions and undo your love stories. also bleeds a bit of a deal breaker ooc for me too due to me being uncomfortable in harem-settings and having said that multiple times in such a way that it can’t be misurestood. if you romance/flirt with another kaeya then mines outta the picture, as much as i’m more than okay with alternates of him this just won’t do for him. bye and thank you!

#snowtombedstar #HELL YEA LET'S BREAK IT DOWN #the ooc bit may make me ruthless in communicating this but this is a writing hobby and my comfort comes first ngl #u can't misurestand 'don't fucking put my muse in harem-like settings' without me voicing it #feels like i should put this in my rules but ill edit those in 2025 at this point

[crxssroads]

physically i am sitting in my mostly empty room eating spicy mac & cheese. mentally i'm in the shivering isles doing the bee's knees under a giant magic mushroom.

#-- TBD #HOLY FUCK YOU'RE BLEEDING THERE -- OOC #not me playing skyrim again for the first time in a year & a half #i needed my emotional support rat guild to get me thru these trying times #vex insults me a single time & i gain years on my life #i am forever biased for egghead thieves tho . gotta tease delvin for good luck. #BUT ALSO HCSRGDA LET'S PLAY 'WHAT MODS DO I HAVE' #i haven't checked & im not going to. it's a surprise. a little present. a treat.

[crxssroads]

maybe i'll make a straight up elden ring oc when i get back to daily activity ... been daydreaming about a Mosquito Girl.

#-- TBD #HOLY FUCK YOU'RE BLEEDING THERE -- OOC #she can be er!ara's gf it's fine #Blood Loss Blood Loss Blood Loss 😇 #still might revamp ara again when im back to a semblance of consistency #b-b-but mosquito bitch go brrrrrr

[crxssroads]

I said stardew soothes my soul like it's a calm & collected thing but tbh I decided I want to eventually setup one of Every Farm Type while practically doing the Exact same playthrough style & that's not including all the oc farms I want to make.

#-- TBD #HOLY FUCK YOU'RE BLEEDING THERE -- OOC #*MARRIES HARVEY* *MARRIES HARVEY* *MARRIES HARVEY* *MARRIES HARV- #camilla can live on the beach as a treat. lil flamingo & palms trees. drinking wine. greenhouse in order. life is good.

[crxssroads]

stardew soothes my soul

#-- TBD #HOLY FUCK YOU'RE BLEEDING THERE -- OOC #also very motivating ngl. one day i will aquire chikins & a beehive irl. #shane & i hating on store bought eggs like 🤝 #my cousins kept quails once. that'd be really cute ;w; but one step at a time. #ik im already gunna get recruited for grandma's berry picking season. #she deadass told dad she's not sure how long she can visit 'cause she may need to pick berries. grandma u still got berries from 2010 💀 #i love her. i miss her. but grandma plEASE you have four berry freezers it's fine you'll be fine 😭💕

[crxssroads]

It's good to be back 💌

#-- TBD #HOLY FUCK YOU'RE BLEEDING THERE -- OOC #now i just need a job & a car & an apartment & *LAUGHS IN AMERICAN* Health / Dental Insurance #&&& after all that i can get a doggo. so it will all be worth it in the end. #tbh I've been obsessively playing pokemon go & my ass is gunna look so good by the end of summer let me tell ya #OH & WIFI. I FORGOT WIFI. I NEED A PERM WIFI / HOTSPOT SOLUTION. AH YES. #-- MUNDAY

[crxssroads]

Anyways I have massive amounts of muse for Ara ( @luckydxy ) of all muses so I guess you're all in danger now. Sorry about that.

#-- TBD #HOLY FUCK YOU'RE BLEEDING THERE -- OOC #literally haven't even logged in or looked at her account in................. so so so so long #BUT she is my baby & actually has the most detailed bio out of any other blog. & i think it's fairly decent too? #idk im on mobile rn so i can't be assed to try & pull it up to verify how my old writing is bUT. BUT. IK THERE'S STUFF THERE. #& i think I'll continue pondering a refresh #is2g i make her a little more violent each time i do. shows what time does to a person ig 💀

[crxssroads]

The local library checks out hotspots with unlimited data mwahaha

#-- TBD #HOLY FUCK YOU'RE BLEEDING THERE -- OOC #EXCELLENT FANTASTIC BEAUTIFUL #*MWAH* SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL LIBRARIES OR FACE MY WRATH #my service gave up completely so this is gunna be so useful yess

[crxssroads]

I got one bar ma 💀 BUT AYO I'M OFFICIALLY IN ILLINOIS

#-- TBD #HOLY FUCK YOU'RE BLEEDING THERE -- OOC #this is the price i pay #but still somehow more service than i expected soooooooooooo still might end up getting a new phone ig #this is gunna be a rough month but the hardest parts are over!!!!!

[crxssroads]

Today was the day!

#-- TBD #HOLY FUCK YOU'RE BLEEDING THERE -- OOC #i said goodbye to everyone today #feels weird man. feels real weird. cried like a bitch when i said bye to the old man. I'm so grateful and i hope he knows #but i handed over all my keys and we're on the road rn as i type this #i thought i wasnt going to have a phone for a while but I got to keep it so I'll probs post pics of the trip on my personal!!

[crxssroads]

tbh the more i play the more i realize elden ring would be a great revamp point for an oc of mine but idk how my tes bros would feel about that lmfao

#-- TBD #HOLY FUCK YOU'RE BLEEDING THERE -- OOC #hrmmm................ Elden Lord Ara......... #there's even her braid & red hood 🥺 you can pull the little red riding hood tropes from my cold dead hands okay-- #but i kinda miss my overpowered trickster daughter ngl #lijsbeth sending her off to be a finger maiden or some shit & ara literally just 'imma go commit crimes for funsies instead' #it's so on brand for her. she'd be a fiend. a friendly fiend.