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#and throw a glass of water on him
lunarharp · 4 months
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when an obsessed orufrey person plays ace attorney for the first time in a while
#witch hat tag#orufrey#you know those times when the defendant is still in shambles at the end of a case because it was not a clear-cut thing#but you get to present one Special Sentimental piece of evidence that proves not all is lost#qifrey's breakdown would be like... he turns up calm and pleasant like dahlia kristoph gant etc but very quickly:#well first he's hiding his scar so you have to use the bracelet and also you find out about the seal on his hat using that.#eventually he is throwing water that comes out of nowhere like that coffee prosecutor guy. and his cape starts billowing#the more he breaks down his neck thingies start coming undone btw. To represent his descent into guilt and his LIES becoming undone.#course as the player i have already used my magatama and seen his 35894 psychelocks. but theyre those BLACK psychelocks#representing his repressed memories taken by the brimhats. also his glasses shatter out of nowhere when you keep presenting evidence#and tartah's testimony etc. and the player is like UHH this guy is A PUPPET MASTER but coco's heartfelt testimony commands the tone#and of course he's someone who has been twisted and damaged by trauma like adrian andrews. the mastermind is of course the brimhats#only me with my magatama knows that... only i can do it. It has to be me.....#just like how as the reader i can see everything about qifrey and i can hold him dear as much as i judge him#whereas if i were oru things would not be ok unless memories can be restored and mentally ill decisions can be illuminated#WELL ANYWAY !!!!! what i appreciate about ace attorney is its ability to mix silliness with seriousness#i cant usually make jokes about serious heavy heartbreaking stuff in witch hat because it is all very intense emotions for me#but i appreciate ace attorney's mix of sincerity and psychological pain and the inherent silliness to being a character in a situation#so.....Get Iguin on the stand. Now. BAILIFF.. TAKE OFF THE MASK#i would most love to be able to prove qifrey's eyesight is failing. hed be like I have no reason to pursue the brimhats (smiles pleasantly)#and it would be like You're lowering your gaze.. proof that the court lighting is too harsh for you..!#his glasses would crack at that moment btw. I used apollo's bracelet and saw the glyphs on the glass.#I know all about u. and i will save u
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musubiki · 3 months
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most recent story development in my brain: ive decided to actually seperate taffy and coco during the timeskip
initially i had it that taffy sticks with coco because he has nowhere to go and they eventually get together over the timeskip. the new version is that he runs away and disappears right before mochi leaves
in my head i see him as the type to run away after what mochi and coco do for him-- after coco put in so much effort and time advocating for him because she saw that there were traces of a good person under his antagonistic nature, and after mochi beat his ass for the final time and finally cleared his curse, he doesnt know what to do with himself.
the rest of the guild at that point (mochi included) has an attitude of "We know why you were the way you were. Now that there's no reason for you to hate us, you're free to go where you want. You can even stay with us." and this sentiment eats him alive. the guilt he feels is insane. the fact that he spent months (years?) trying to ruin mochi, brewing in bitterness and rage and all of a sudden all of that is gone and replaced with forgiveness and warmth is unbearable and he cant stand it, so he leaves.
this is all coupled with his feelings for coco and the attitude on his end of "I don't deserve this. I don't deserve her. All I can do is bring them down. All I can do is bring her down. I have no right to stay here. I have no right to want to stay here."
so theres a pivotal scene in my head where he has all these thoughts, standing right outside the side door to mochis house hearing them all chattering inside, and has a long moment of hesitation before going inside. in the OLD version coco opens the door before he can make up his mind and forces him inside with the rest of them, but in the NEW version i think its much more taffy-like if hes gone by the time she notices and gets to the door
(tldr timeline: mochi removes his curse -> he disappears -> he only appears for the last amanita fight because really thats HIS fight as much as it is mochis -> he leaves again RIGHT after. i imagine coco tried to stop him or say goodbye but this man is notoriously good at escaping quickly)
and so timeskip-wise coco attends university on her own. she keeps in touch with oscar and lime (more oscar than lime) and while she never directly set out to look for taffy, there was always that desire to look for him in a crowd or something, maybe hoping to run into him at random or that he would show up out of nowhere like he did the first time.
I'm not totally sure what he does during the timeskip then. something far away from coco and the guild, but somewhere close to the ocean because he could never find it in him to stray too far from it for too long. maybe lost his touch with water magic a bit because he was too afraid and guilt-ridden to use it. never really stopped thinking about coco but couldnt muster up the courage to go find her again. for YEARS hes convinced that she doesnt want to see him and he wouldnt do anything to make her life better. hes done too much to all of them for them to ever accept him, he thinks.
until one day coco just. shows up. after tracking him down (with mochi and sulluvans help). sitting on a barrel at the docks he works at in some city somewhere, eating some cotton candy she bought at the docks like "Heyo! Mochi needs another guild member, and you kinda owe us one, soooo..."
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Funniest thing about the morning after in columbia is that Neil empties the glass of water onto the floor before chucking it at Aaron's head, what was that supposed to accomplish my man
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fox-guardian · 4 months
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in the middle of doing that comic and thinking about my ocs <3 lila's bestie gigi at first is very wary of redd because well. he lives alone in the woods and makes his own deer leather, there's a certain Vibe to that description, but eventually they realize he's Just Some Guy (mostly) and they've wrapped back around to gently judging Lila for her taste in men. she shows them a video of redd being awkward and very much not doing anything especially attractive and she'll be like "I need to gut him like a fish but /pos yknow" and gigi will be like "oh you are down horrendous. also why did you speak a tone tag"
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lilyharvord · 1 year
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Hell yea we wanna see Cal simp Lily!!!😈😈😈
Babes, just go reread the series and you'll get it XD
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alexjcrowley · 9 months
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Coffeeshop au but the couple fistfight on the counter because the barista didn't give the client the essential small glass of water next to the espresso
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josiebelladonna · 2 years
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my dad is such a putz 
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sub-ignis · 5 months
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Ichoji Hikaru pre-ep 27: Idiot with some misogyny issues struggling through
Ichoji Hikaru post-27: malicious fuckboy non pareil
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wyvernest · 8 months
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mating szn
part 1 (part2)
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pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader
warnings: smut, fluff, scent marking, primal play, rutting miguel, possessiveness, reader is ovulating
summary: miguel comes home feeling extremely needy
You're preparing dinner when you hear the opaque glass doors of your shared mansion open for your lover to come in. It's almost midnight, and it doesn't take you longer than a few seconds to realize how tired he has to be.
Miguel walks into the open kitchen, frowning. 
"Baby! I missed you!" You jolt to him, pans clattering dangerously as you throw them aside, careful enough not to ruin your work but swiftly enough to get to him as fast as possible.
You curl your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes, pressing your chest flush against his hard pecs. His hands grab at your hips, absentmindedly and by habit.
"What's wrong?". You place a gentle, loving hand on his cheek, trying to meet his gaze. But he's not looking at you. His eyes are darting all over your face and body, brows still creased. 
He could feel it, your scent. A collection of the whole day, everything you've done. The food, the places you've been. He feels like it's been so long since this morning, when he woke up beside you, kissing along your neck. 
He feels a surge of blood rush from his heart and through his lucidity, a shot of adrenaline inexplicably taking over him.
You don't smell of him anymore. Anger bubbles in his chest as he thinks of all the people you must've talked to around HQ, who didn't smell his strong musk on you, who had no idea you belonged to him.
He's never felt like this before. He brushes the unfamiliar feeling aside for a moment, grounded by the silent plea in your eyes.
"I'm good. Just a bit tired." He brushes wild strands of baby hairs out of your face, finally matching the loving look you've greeted him with from the start.
He leaves you to finish the meal and steps into the shower, hoping that an ice cold stream would cool him down. Only it doesn't do anything but worsen the situation.
The second he feels the water spray hit his body, he flinches, unlike the usual relief he gets. His skin is abnormally feverish, the ghost of your body in his arms taunting him further into madness. He soon finds himself desperate to get out, to be reunited with you and the warmth only you could ever provide for him.
Images of your supple body breaking in his embrace flood his already lust crazed mind against his better judgment, and he feels his cock fatten slightly at the memory.
When he takes it in his hand, he nearly starts bucking his hips into his hold, sensitive and insanely needy. He imagines you in the bathtub with him, arching your back over the edge, spreading your legs for him to pound his cock into you under the hot stream, your moans echoing and ringing into the stone tiles.
He can't take it anymore. His body aches for your touch and attention.
Exiting the shower, he pulls a pair of loose boxers up his thighs, the only thing he can tolerate with the fever that has taken hold of him so suddenly.
And then, he focuses on the image of you, standing where he left you, gently stirring in a bowl. You're wearing one of his t-shirts, draped down to the middle of your thighs and over your elbows, an oversized dress. 
He approaches you, wrapping his arms around your front and waist, dropping a fraction of his weight on your back just to keep you from moving or fighting against it. You throw your head back, closing your eyes.
His head drops to your neck, kissing here and there, exhales smoldering hot on your throat, stopping momentarily to deeply inhale your scent. Among all others, there is a distinctive smell of you, of your arousal and need for him that drives him mad.
"Wait- Miguel, let me finish this-" You protest, your creamy tone betraying your true intentions. 
He groans, kissing your naked shoulder, his hands squeezing your form in front of him. 
All tasks are ultimately abandoned as he pushes you against the counter, his defined abs hitting your back, the marble surface cold against your thighs. He presses his fat, hard cock up against your plush ass, his hands fondling your breasts through his shirt, groaning low and quiet in your ear. 
With his biceps curled and constricted around your navel, your body goes limp in his hold, trembling ever so slightly as his warm, broad palms squeeze the soft flesh of your tits. He pushes them together, massaging gently, almost experimentally. He flattens them with the heels of his palms softly, only to them constrict his fingers around them so perfectly, fondling and groping away.
"Mm- Miguel, oh-" You breathe out, finding balance on your hands, arching your back into him. You feel your core pulsate with need, swelling up under his movements. You're almost completely wrapped up in his massive body, with nowhere to go. 
And just then, you accidentally knock a knife off the counter, startled when it hits the marble floor with a loud clank. He jumps, backing up from your body. Your face is flushed, eyes half lidded, breath heavy, nipples perked under the thin cotton. Landing back to your senses, you move to bend down and pick it up.
His eyes automatically snap to your round ass and the dark wet spot on your panties that invites him so blatantly to shove his cock in between your pussy lips. 
He can't help it. He can't control himself anymore.
Balance leaves your position as you feel his rough, eager hands grip your hips, harshly pulling you back into him. The plumpness of your ass hits the girthy shaft of his cock, but before you can look for the lost balance with your hands in front of you, he thrusts his erection up against your clothed cunt, making you whine in need.
"Ay, mi amor-" His voice is rugged and satisfied, laced with a deep groan. A broad palm hits the side of your behind, making the tender flesh ripple against his hard-on. "Te necesito muchísimo ahora." (I need you so badly right now.)
You yelp, perplexed, instinctively grabbing his wrists for balance. He pulls you up with your back against his chest, splaying a cursory hand across your abdomen, sending shivers thundering down your spine and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
"Miguel!" You playfully fight against his possessive hold, "Is this your way of helping me prepare dinner?!" You free yourself, giggling and letting a wide smile take over your features. Stepping back and extending your arms in front of you in an attempt to shield yourself from him, you chuckle wholeheartedly.
Seeing you resist, he lets out a defeated exhale.
"Fine. I'll be good, lo prometo." (I promise). He motions for you to come closer and trust that he'll behave. Letting your guard down, you approach the counter, eyes fixated on his playfully.
He feels your body heat nearing him, so comfortable and tempting. The smell of you, and everything that drives him crazy about your presence alone. His breaths deepen and quicken abruptly, his cock straining in his boxers, twitching freely against the material, begging to be enveloped in your wet warmth.
He looks down at you like a panther about to pounce, waiting for the perfect moment to do so. Your smile curls wider, eyes shining with lust and a teasing playfulness. His body dwarfs yours, his shadow alone making you feel puny. His shoulders are tense, the same way they are when he's on top of you, riding you into next Tuesday.
He shifts to place a clawed hand on the counter, the sharp edged digits tapping against the surface catching your attention momentarily in the corner of your eye. He exploits the split second it takes you to look down to his arm, snapping and squatting to grab your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder.
"NO! You promised! Miguel! The food!" You try to reason, throwing any and each accusation you can think of, knowing that you definitely don't want him to drop it and leave you alone, truly. And he knows it. 
And that's when he feels it. With your ass on his bulky shoulder, he can smell it. Your arousal, dripping hot. His fat cock finally hardens completely, its monstrously girthy shaft poking through the shorts. 
You're ovulating.
Groaning ruggedly, he delivers a rough spank to your plump ass before pushing two fingers over the wet mound of your clothed pussy, running them over your slit, teasingly, collecting more of your scent.
He swears the only thing stopping him from fucking you raw right on the kitchen floor is your comfort.
"Okay! You win! Put me down, I'll let you fuck me."
Without a second thought, he places you back on the floor, hands on your hips, talons grazing your tender skin deliciously.
His eyes have reddened, pupils blown wide, exhales hot and labored. You don't want anything more than to wrap your arms around his neck, to press yourself into him, to feel his hard abdomen on your stomach, his pecs on your soft tits, his mouth on your neck.
But you want to see more of how needy he is.
You jolt to the stairs with no warning, climbing the winding wooden steps like a cat. You hear him behind you, his weight put onto each movement as he chases close behind, the staircase creaking under him.
Looking behind before reaching the hallway of the first floor of your mansion, you feel your panties dampen at the sight of the man and the sheer size of him, massive shoulders slightly hunched forward in focus and adrenaline, his height successfully making you stagger on your way to the bedroom.
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divider by @cafekitsune
HOPE YALL LIKE IT IMMA CONTINUE ‼️‼️
a/n: primal play is thoroughly discussed beforehand. insisting that your partner has sex with you even after resistance without having discussed the aforementioned resistance is abusive.
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svuguru · 2 months
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Suguru who always does the work for you. He pampers you like crazy, to the point where you basically don't even have a brain around him! Of course it starts off with the gentleman-like gestures, such as opening the door for you, pulling out your chair at restaurants or even just at home.
Then, he'll carry you to bed, always grabs your drinks even if it's just a glass of water, turn on the television, serve you dinner, sometimes he'll even spoon feed you and have you sip through a straw for water, with him holding the glass up, of course. Especially in public, he'll do everything for you. Not that you mind, in fact, you actually like it.
This is no exception for the bedroom; his hands on your hips as he bounces you on his cock, your lips stuck out in a pout as you whine every now and then.
"Sugu," you slur, throwing your head down as you close your eyes. "My legs are tired.." in response, Suguru sticks his lower lip out in sympathy, leaning towards you and grabbing your jaw with a gentle grip, tilting your head up so you can face him.
"Aww, poor baby," he coos before pressing a kiss to your forehead. You slowly open your glassy eyes, meeting his loving ones. "Wanna lay down? Yeah?"
"Yeah," you murmur and close your tired eyes again, waiting for Suguru to flip you over so you can relax, and that he does.
He shifts positions so your back is on the mattress, with him hovering above you and your legs wrapped around his waist.
"Sweet baby was all tired, poor thing," Suguru whispers, sliding his length in your pussy slowly as his eyes watch your jaw go slack, your eyes still closed but your eyebrows drawn together. "Okay, you rest now, yeah? I'll handle the rest,"
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stxrslut · 28 days
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guys I love babydaddy!rafe so here’s a thought for you…
calling him in the middle of the night, crying because you’re so tired and you can’t get comfortable and everything is hurting. he’s up in an instant, holding his phone in the crease of his neck as he pulls on his clothes, simultaneously trying to soothe you, “okay- okay I’m on my way kid, stop cryin’.”
him turning up at your door in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, rubbing at his eyes that are red from sleep. you just throw yourself right at him, clinging to his big frame.
he murmurs and brings a hand round to rub your back “you’re fine.” he chastises, but he doesn’t linger on it because he knows that you really are in a lot of discomfort. “you wanna let me in?”
you nod and take his hand, moving to sit on one of the kitchen stools while he begins to rummage in your cupboards, as has become nearly routine for you both.
“what’s goin’ on this time? you nauseous again?” he asks as he fills you a glass of water and brings it over to you, cupping the back of your head so as to help you drink some.
you nod to his question when you’re finished, “yeah… n’my legs are hurtin’ real bad.” a small pout is set on your lips as you speak. he nods and takes the hairtie off his wrist to pull your locks back and out of your face.
“and you’re feeling too hot right?” he questions, already knowing the answer by the sweat that’s sheened across your forehead. you just groan and lean into him. his lips are pursed in thought as he strokes your back absentmindedly.
“okay… think you can keep some food down?” he looks down at you, his hand on your back stilling for a moment as he waits for your answer.
“don’t think so… m’stomach is turnin’” you inform him and he nods, jaw ticking slightly, purely with frustration at the situation. you know he hates it when he can’t fix a problem.
“right, that’s fine.” he brings his hand from your back to rest on your growing bump. “little girl really isn’t givin’ you a break huh..” he chuckles quietly.
you giggle a little too “can tell she’s gonna be a handful when she’s born.”
“yeah,” Rafe laughs, “just like her mama…”
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yanderenightmare · 3 months
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TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, violence/abuse, threat of bodily harm
gn reader
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Thinking about poly yanderes again…
They’re both so patronizing – suffocatingly so. 
But where one is a brute, the other is sweet – or sweeter than the former, in any case...
He has a certain calm about him – gentle with you – considerate when showing his affection, and patient with you when he’s intimate. He doesn’t growl at you to shut up and lie still the way the other one does – instead, he asks you if you can be good for him – if you can let him love you – lipping at your throat without the touch of teeth as he all but begs for your consent.
The brute doesn't bother with such foreplay...
Your will doesn’t seem to interest him in any other aspect than ripping it from you and strangling it in his fist with a big grin, laughing while watching those pitiful tears start slipping down your cheeks.
He'll just shrug off the kinder one when he chides, telling him to stop being so rough with you. He just squeezes you a little tighter, sucks your neck a little harder, and kneads his cock a little deeper – saying that he can do whatever he wants with that which belongs to him.
When you struggle against him, he’s not shy of punishing you accordingly – in fact, he jumps at the opportunity – bending you over his lap with his fist riddled in your hair – landing strike after strike until you’re screaming in surrender, all cute pleas for his mercy, words he’s told you to say. 
He likes fucking you like that – when you’re a broken mess who only clings to him for comfort, crying into his neck while he pumps you full of cock and cum.
The kinder one scolds him afterward. Tells him he’s a fiend while petting your head and hair, carrying you away from the scene and into the bathroom. He draws you a tub of bubbles and holds a glass of water to your lips. But for all his niceties – he still gets in the hot water with you – cock in your sore hole while he washes your hair.
Still, he’s more reasonable.
When he’s tying your wrists to the bedpost like every night of you sleeping stuck in between them, you ask him if it’s really necessary – promising him you’re not going to run away – telling him that you’re going to stay right there, peacefully asleep.
The brute says that it isn’t something that’s up for discussion, that if you push your luck, he’s gonna tie every inch of you up like a floppy fish caught in a net ready to be gutted. But you don’t heed the warning – looking to your kinder warden with puppy eyes and a pout on your lips, saying please, it hurts your wrists – again, promising him you’ll be good and stay sound asleep between them the entire night.
You just needed to get to the door. 
You just needed to get to the door – through the door – out into the street, screaming while at it, and surely someone, anyone, would come to your rescue. 
Why wouldn't your feet move quicker? Why weren’t you faster? Why were you clumsier now? Tripping over rugs, missing steps when scrambling down the stairs, slipping when turning corners – trying to navigate the house when you’d barely ever seen anything but the bedroom.
You just needed to get to the door – but you could hear one of them coming after you – just behind you – big monstrous thundering steps shaking you to the core, strangling your heart, shattering your bones – and it’s getting hard to breathe, hard to see, hard to feel anything other than the numbing fear and the awful way it cripples you – throwing your mind into a tailspin while choking your lungs free of all air, clawing up your throat into a scream. 
You just needed to get to the fucking door –
You hadn't known you could make a sound like that – like something out of a horror movie – high-pitched and desperate – ripped from somewhere raw and primal.
There’s a hand in your hair, yanking you backward where you’re received by a hard chest and an arm snaking around your waist, hoisting you off the ground, kicking and yelling.
It’s the brute. He looks almost happy you’d tried running away – a manic look of delight on his face when he finally drops you down on the floor – pinning you beneath him – shadowing you with teeth seemingly dripping with venom and all the ugly punishments he’s no doubt cooking up inside his sick mind.
“Your ass is gettin’ it extra fuckin’ hard tonight – my handprint won’t heal for a month – won’t even be able to sit down without cryin’.” He growls, his teeth on your cheek as he grips your jaw tight – starting off your punishment with a harsh lovebite.
You look at the more merciful of the two. 
He’s standing off to the side, looking down at the two of you. 
You expect he’d come to the rescue like he’d done all those other times.
But to your utter horror… he isn’t lifting a single finger to stop it. 
His face is blank – cold – as cold as the words that roll dryly off his tongue, “I think we’ve established that spanking isn’t enough…” 
The one holding you down halts in his advances and seems to get just as frigid as you by the cold-blooded tone of his partner – who takes slow steps toward the two of you, so close he’s got your hair pinned beneath his toes before crouching down until he as well looms over you like a darkening storm.
He reaches a stiff hand to soothe the ring of teeth left on your cheek by the other – seemingly kindly, but his eyes are so jaded your breath catches in your throat – soulless as they stare into your teary ones.
“Maybe we ought to get ahead of the issue and break your legs.” He suggests nonchalantly, making both your and your other captor’s faces bleach.
Then he smiles – that kind smile, only now you can’t help but flinch at the sight of it. 
“That way, everyone’s happy,” He states, explaining, “You won't have to be tied up, and we can trust you to keep your word and stay put when you promise us you will.”
Then he stands up and straightens himself, looking at his partner with that same eerie smile.
“Where’d you put the bat again?”
The brute stiffens. His crazed expression had melted in light of the other into a look you’d never seen on him before. He swallows thickly as though he’s just as worried as you are. His voice is hesitant, “I think rope is enough…” 
The other throws his brows up. “Oh?” Then he snaps his focus back to you. “What do you think, baby? You think that’s enough?” He walks back to the two of you, and you feel the intense urge to hide behind the one you’d initially been caught running from.
He looks down at you expectantly, watching your lip quiver as you struggle to form an answer without choking on it.
“Hm? What was that? Rope or bat, what do you prefer?” His voice is sharp, licking at you like a knife.
You stutter, “Ro-rope.”
“Yeah? Okay, then – that’s settled.” He confirms, then looks back at the other. “Go get the rope.”
It doesn’t seem like he wants to leave – almost like he’s afraid of what might happen if he does. “Now?” He asks.
“Yes, now.” The smile tightens – sharpens into something truly lethal if you were to test it. “Our pet thinks they can run wild, so we’ll have to reintroduce them to the leash.”
Then he sets his sights back on you, robbing you of all air.
“Unless you’d prefer the bat after all?”
You whimper, shaking your head with a sniffle, “No-no – rope…”
He looks back to the other. “You heard 'em. Get going.”
He’s reluctant about it – looking from you to him, then back to you again, almost apologetically – before he gets up off you, leaving you on the floor – alone.
Your hair is then grabbed harshly, and you’re pulled up to your feet before you’re dragged off them – pulled along until you’re tugged from the floor up onto his lap as he plopped down, comfortably seated on the couch.
He sighs, letting go of your hair and placing both hands on the fat of your haunches, making you straddle him – mirroring your breathless, tear-streaked face with an expressionless one.
A hand ascends, and you’re convinced he’s going to slap you – but as you squeeze your eyes tightly shut in wait for it, his hand finds your cheek, only to ever-so-gently pet the wet away.
Cupping your face, he places a light peck on the corner of your mouth, followed by his voice, “Apologize, and I’ll forgive you.”
Your eyes peel open, looking back into his. You regret it instantly. Still eclipsed, it’s a cold and blank stare that seems to seize you by the throat.
“I’m sorry, I’ll never- never ever do it again.” You whisper pitifully – as if you’re afraid to be too loud.
“Hm…” He hums, looking unimpressed. “I don’t think that’s good enough…” 
His hand slips from your face down your neck, circling it lightly before squeezing it firmly with whitening knuckles. “You hurt my feelings, y’know? I trusted you, and you lied to me – right to my fucking face.”
You cack, wrapping your smaller hands around his wrist as he strangles the words out of you. “I’m sorry- I’m really- really sorry-”
His breathing is thick, as though something’s bubbling underneath the surface – a beast within whose bloodthirst hasn’t yet been sated. “I want more than empty words.” He states flatly, unforgivingly.
Still, he lets go of your throat, letting you drop to his chest, panting sore breaths with his words ringing hot in your head. You start kissing between sipping for air – desperately, up his neck and jaw, then his lips, even though he doesn’t kiss back – pleading, “Please forgive me- I’m sorry, I-”
“Yeah? You’re sorry?” He mocks, stroking the back of your head, down your back as though soothing you – voice dripping with fake empathy. “Sorry for what exactly? Hm? For being a dumb little bitch, thinking you could run when you haven’t even so much as walked on your own two feet for months.”
A laugh inches into his words like a sickness. The eerie smile returns, small and curling in the corner of his mouth.
“You were fuckin’ hilarious, you know that?” He breathes lightly – eyes wide, staring at you like cornered prey. “Trippin’ over yer own two feet, barely even making it to the door.”
The grip around your throat returns, and you squeak out a whimper.
“Say it.” He seethes, “Say you’re a dumb little bitch who didn’t know what you were doing.” His lips ghost yours with the command, forcing you to echo the words back into his mouth.
“I’m- I’m a dumb little bitch- I’m- I didn’t know what I was doing-” 
He hums at your shivering but doesn’t ease his grip – molding his lips against yours, he kisses you deeply until parting with your lips between his teeth – letting go slowly.
“I- I’ll be good from now on, I promise-” You add – in the hope it would thaw the ice of his stare.
It doesn’t. He keeps them just as jaded – half-masted now as he runs his fingers up and down your spine, brushing your chin and cheek with his lips until blowing on your ear. “You better be.”
You shudder, wincing.
“‘Cause if you ever try anything like that again, I’m gonna go get that bat – and nothing and no one is gonna keep me from bashing away at you until I’ve made certain you can’t lift a single fucking finger without my help.”
You’re a broken mess of sniveling apologies and prayers on his lap by the time the brute comes back with the rope. 
But the one who’d reduced you to it doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. 
“There you are!” He beams with a bright smile.
Acting as though you weren’t falling apart in his arms, gripping his shirt for purchase while sobbing hard and ugly into his chest. 
“Let’s tie every square inch of 'em up like you suggested.” He muses while picking your tear-stained face up in both hands, nose-kissing you with his words dripping fondly off his tongue. “Just like a floppy fish ready to be gutted.”
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BNHA – BakuDeku, DabiHawks, EndMight, ShinKami, TodoDeku, KiriBaku, Shiggy x villain!Deku
JJK – SatoSugu, YujiKuna, YujiGumi
HQ – Miya twins, IwaOi,
BLLK – NagiReo, KuniGiri
AOT - EreMin
DS - InoTan, DouAka
HxH – HisoIllu
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faeriekit · 4 months
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#i'm very pro danny accidentally adopts a whole bunch of talons previous installments
*
The next day, the body was back.
The green was gone from its eyes, but the awareness wasn't; it spent about an hour watching people go around outside Danny's apartment, which was new behavior. None of the corpses that shadowed him had shown any interest in garden-variety humans before. Now it sat at the window and watched families come home from school or head to their afternoon shifts.
That went into Danny's notes.
After that hour, it taught itself to flush the toilet repeatedly, rearranged the contents of Danny's half-assed linen closet (again) and then stood hovering over the safe where Danny had stashed the ectoplasm.
"...Okay," said Danny.
The dead body croaked. It was a new sound, but there was no context for it. Danny just kind of...wrote it down and hoped for the best.
The day after, Danny woke up at a very reasonable ten forty eight in the morning to find stray corpses feeding each other spoonfuls of ectoplasm in the kitchen.
At that point he kind of had to throw out the notes on how much each one was dosed with, because what the fuck.
"Really?!" Danny shouted, spooking the bodies into fleeing behind chairs and doors and back into his closet again. The only one that didn't flee was Danny's ringmaster corpse of the hour, of course. "You really couldn't wait??"
It stuck out a withered black tongue out at the mortician, who was, really, the victim in all of this. A victim to his parents' whims and a victim to the dead people who followed him around all the time.
This was how Danny found out that, when it doubt, the corpses could just tear through solid steel if they were motivated enough. The finger-marks were so deep and so embedded that they actually looked more like rough claws in the metal.
Great.
Danny ordered a new locking cage for the fridge on Prime and darted off to work. One of his regulars was on the table, though, so Danny just ended up doing what he would have at home— sewing up a gash in its neck and reattaching dead fingers back onto dead stumps.
On the third day, in which four of Danny's frequent fliers had learned from the first how to flush the toilet (and therefore raise the water bill immensely) Danny got a ring from a dark voice he (almost) recognized.
"Is he here?"
Danny squinted, jerking the phone further under his ear as he whipped up some scrambled eggs. The dead girl leaning over his shoulder leaned a little closer to watch the egg froth up. "Is who here? Who is this?"
"This is Batman. Is— the body requisitioned from your facility currently at your place of residence?"
Danny fully let go of the whisk. It landed haphazardly in the glass bowl he'd been stirring in. "What on Earth is a Batman?" he asked, incredulous.
"I visited your workplace previously."
Oh! "Yeah, the cop's friend. I remember now." Danny pulled the whisk out of the liquid eggs and held it out to the body. The unusually animate cadaver mostly prodded the whisk wires and paid no attention to him. "No one's here but me, though. Not that it's your business...?"
"And there are no non-living bodies currently in your apartment?"
Danny ignored the flushing noise in the other room. "I don't know, dude. They practically live in the walls at this point. Don't come over unless you have a warrant."
The call ended with a click.
His omelette turned out amazing, by the way. In case you were wondering.
On the fourth day, the ectoplasm was gone, because the corpses had apparently all taught each other how to lockpick the container in the fridge.
"Okay, some of that was meant to be my dinner. No more lotion at the funeral home now, okay? Now you all can be ashy forever. I'm so serious," Danny complained to the only visible dead person in the room.
The dead person held up a cracked egg. It was probably a gesture of peace, but now there was egg on his vinyl flooring to deal with. And. It wasn't exactly all that comforting in the end.
On the fifth day, Danny awoke to the sensation of a hand jamming itself through his neck until it punched into the mattress beneath him.
Fuck.
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witchwyfe · 3 months
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karma is my boyfriend - rc
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pairing - (non-canon) Rafe Cameron x female reader
précis - a lil princess treatment from rafe :)
content/warnings - mentions of alcohol/alcohol consumption, fluff,
word count - 673
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"Rafe, Rafe!?" You're spinning around, looking for your boyfriend until suddenly you whirl around and bump into a broad chest.
"Hey!" You gasp, until you look up and see his face. "Oh! Hi baby!" You coo, reaching up to cup his cheeks. 
"Hi sweet girl." He smiles, running his thumb along your cheekbone. 
You greet him happily, leaning in to his touch. "Did you get my drink?" You wonder, suddenly remembering why he left you in the first place.
"Hmm, sure did." He nods, handing you an ice water rather than the vodka redbull you'd requested.
You don't seem to notice though, slipping the paper straw into your mouth and slurping it down happily.
"We gonna dance s'more?" You wonder, straw between your lips.
"We can't, baby," He says, smoothing a hand down the back of your head. "They're closing."
"Nooo!" You groan, throwing your head back.
"I know, I know," He soothes. "But we can go home and get some snacks and watch a show...?" He offers.
"Okay!" You're smiling once again, digging your fingers into his tee shirt.
"Finish your drink and we'll go home, kay?" 
You nod, bypassing the straw and tipping the rest of the water into your mouth, before handing your empty glass to Rafe.
You're not even that drunk, really just a little past tipsy but you're fine with letting Rafe handle everything and take care of you.
Suddenly his jacket is being draped over your shoulders, coupled with a soft kiss to the top of your head. 
"Thank you." You simper. You slide your arms into the sleeves and blink up at your boyfriend.
"Ready?"
"Ready."
You lead him out of the bar, arms shoved into the pockets of his jacket, while he has your little purse slung over his shoulder, your phone, his phone, and the keys all in one hand.
"How much farther?" You ask a few moments later, looking back at him.
"Not too much," He frowns looking out at the street. When the two of you arrived at the club, hours before, he'd had to park his car somewhat far due to the lack of space. "Your feet hurting, baby?"
You shrug a shoulder. "Yeah." You nod. "But it's just till the car then I'll take my shoes off."
"C'mere," He says, shoving both of your phones into his pocket.
"What?" You wonder, turning to give him a coy smile.
Your sweet boyfriend kneels down on the dirty sidewalk, taking your ankle into his hands so he can unbuckle your heel. You're flustered beyond words, heat rising on your cheeks while Rafe's rough palm softly works your foot out of your strappy shoe. 
"Stand on my foot babe, so I can take your other shoe off." He says, running his hand up your calf. 
Once both of your heels are dangling from his hand, he scoops you into his arms, bridal style.
"Are you sure, Rafe?" You wonder softly. "I feel bad, you don't--"
"You have nothing to feel bad about." He assures, lips at your temple. "Just let me take you to the car, okay gorgeous?"
"Okay." You hum happily, relaxing in his hold.
Your arms are sling around your neck and you have easy access to his neck if you strain a little--and you do--at least five times on the way to the car, so you can kiss his neck.
He pretends like he's not flustered by it, but you can see the rosy glow of his cheeks from the street lamps, the harsh light making him appear ethereal and you have to shut your eyes for a second to remember he's real.
You’re still in a fond trance when he uses one hand to open the car door and gently deposit you into the passenger seat. He buckles your seatbelt and tugs on it, before pressing a kiss to your temple. 
“Love you,” You croon, leaning back against the seat to look at him. 
“Love you so much more.” He promises. “C’mere angel, gimme a kiss.”
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© witchwyfe 2024. absolutely no reposting, translating, or modifying, even with credit.
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ragingbookdragon · 3 months
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She blinked in her drunken haze at the bartender who nudged a glass of water towards her; her brows drew in confusion, and he said, “Look if you want to keep paying, I’ll keep serving, but you look like you need a ride home rather than more drinks. Drink some water and find a ride.”
Throwing a poor thumbs up, she watched as he walked off and she pulled out her phone, thumbing her password in so she could go to her contacts; his was one of the first and she managed to press call, laying the phone down on the bar, her head laying atop it. They picked up on the second ring.
What.
“Lt,” she slurred. “Will you come get me?”
You’re drunk, aren’t you?
It was rhetorical, she knew that, but she responded anyway. “Yeah, drank too much.” She closed her eyes. “Will you please come get me?” she smiled when she heard the annoyed sigh come across the line. “Pleeeeeeeeeeease,” she whined.
Pay your tab and I’ll be there in a few minutes.
“You’re not going to pay it for me?”
You’re pushing your luck much farther than how much you think I actually tolerate you.
“You tolerate me more than most.”
Whatever.
The line went dead, and she fished around in her pocket for a few bills, laying them on the counter as she lifted herself up and headed for the door. As she stepped out into the night, she drifted to an enclosed corner and sat down on one of the paved bricks that extended from the outside wall, shutting her eyes as she rested her head on the cold stone. She listened as people walked past her, taking in the laughter, the random bits of conversation, sometimes arguments, and breathed deeply as her brain rolled around in her skull.
It wasn’t until she felt the shift of the moonlight from her face to shadow that she cracked an eye open and gazed up at the masked man glaring back at her. “Hi, Lt,” she murmured, and he didn’t even blink.
“C’mon.”
He turned and started walking towards the parking lot when she whined and said, “You aren’t even going to help me up?”
His feet stopped on the pavement, shoulders lifting up and down before he spun around and walked back over, holding out his hand.
“Thank you,” she chirped and took it, letting him pull her up; she didn’t let go of his hand as they walked and at one point in her drunken stumbling, he stopped and let out a tired sigh, bending his knees to kneel beside her. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Get on,” he retorted, and she looked between his face and his back.
“You mean on your—”
“Get. On.” He growled and she hurriedly draped herself on his back, letting out a startled noise as he stood up suddenly, large hands clasped on the bottoms of her thighs as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
She blinked as she rested her head on his shoulder and murmured, “Wow, the air is so clear up here.” She heard it, the slight snort and she couldn’t help but smile as he carried her. “Lt?”
“What.”
“Thank you for coming to get me. I know I’m a pain in the ass.”
“At least you’re self-aware of how much a major pain in my arse you are. Bigger than Soap is on his worst days.”
“Now that’s just plain mean,” she mumbled, sniffling slightly. “I’m sorry.”
He stopped again and turned his head, looking at her. “I’d rather you be a pain in my arse than be nothing to me at all.”
She gazed at him with wide eyes, unable to stop her mouth from flopping open and he looked down then back to her eyes. “Really?” she asked in disbelief.
“You might be the biggest pain I’ve ever had the displeasure of having, but you’re my pain and I intend for it to stay that way.”
Her mouth shut and she melted against his back as he continued walking, gingerly snuggling closer to him, knees hugging his hips, arms tighter around him as she joked, “I love you too, Lt.”
“Nope, we’re not there yet.”
She paused, then wondered aloud, “You think we’ll ever be there one day?”
It was a long moment before he finally murmured back, “…yeah, maybe one day, pet.”
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becaexists · 1 year
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I am not "holding a grudge", I'm committing to the bit, get it right
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