#bout to be rendered useless

[ratbimboy]

Venus wearing lingerie when Stu’s over to see if he’ll say anything cause she likes seeing him try not to stare. Then proceeds to absolutely make it worse by getting in reveling positions before asking if he wants to indulge her a bit.

#aesopsrambles #aesopswritingprojects #aesopsbesopping💀💀 #aesops blorbos #aesopsoc #Venus really be like let me get you hard #gonna ride him into the sunset #bout to be rendered useless #mdhm mc #mdhm oc #mdhm yn #mdhm stu

[shoezuki]

Sometimes i feel ppl say theyre a communist when really theyre more of an anarchist yknow. Like to be fair anarchy n communism are holding hands but ppl be like 'im a commie i want to take down the government' n like. Thats. Thats anarchy. Thats anarchy.

#communism is strange tho in that it like #has been twisted so much . #but if we are talkin bout communism as a philosophy from marx and engels. who didnt intend it to be a political model #then communism doesnt Exactly argue we must dismantle the government like anarchy does #altho and i wrote essays on this. communism would render government and authority as obsolete over time #my understanding is anarchy argues authority and the govt is the cause of oppression and must be destroyed #while communism moreso posits that ensuring no one holds power over one another would render the govt useless #but then again im not a philosophy major im just an anarchist

[deerlottie]

🐶🦝 — the best tip

summary: shauna and nat don’t have enough money to pay for the pizza. warnings: 18+ MDNI, based off a porno…delivery guy!reader, bondage, dubcon, transmasc!reader, tdick, degrading.

as you wait outside the front door with a hot pizza in hand, you sigh and kick your feet. you couldn't wait to go home after this. it was your last delivery of the night and all you wanted to do was jump under your comfy blankets and sleep.

you stand up straight when you hear rustling from inside and clear your throat. a woman with brown hair that falls a little past her shoulders opens the door with a kind smile, making a noise of happiness as she eyes the pizza. "oh, finally! come on in sweetie. set it on the table will you? i'll be right back with the money."

nodding, you walk in and notice another figure off to the side smoking. they're wearing nothing but a white t-shirt, panties and fishnets. you blush and avert your eyes while timidly putting the box on the table.

"what's your name, pizza boy?" they speak, putting out the cigarette in the ashtray.

"uh, i-its-"

"natty, leave them alone! gosh, i'm so sorry. how much was it again?" the woman asks, fishing in her wallet.

"18.50." you reply, impatiently leaning against the chair. you catch who you now know as natty's eye and he smirks at you, raising his eyebrows.

"shit. i don't have enough. nat, do you have any cash on you?"

"nope. only a credit card that has a dollar on it. sorry shauna." he doesn't sound sorry at all. in fact, he looks smug as he walks towards you and looks you up and down. "how 'bout this - you give us the pizza for free, and we fuck you."

your eyes widen at his proposal and you laugh. yeah, right. you shake your head and go to grab the pizza box but nat is faster. he pushes you away, causing you to stumble back. "fuck it. just take the pizza, i'm out of here."

but before you can open the door, shauna and nat jump on you, grabbing your limbs so you're rendered useless as you try to punch at them.

"what the fuck?! let me go!" you struggle in their grip but they easily overtake you and lead you over to the couch, tossing you on it. they're on you again, and shauna covers your incessant 'bitching' with her hand, your groans muffled. "look at him, natty. so pathetic under our grasp."

you thrash around on the couch but it's no use, nat has his whole weight on your legs. he laughs condescendingly at your feeble attempts to flee and smacks the side of your ass. "stop moving! shut up and enjoy this, slut."

he motions at shauna, "go get the rope. and duct tape too."

once they finish securing the ropes, shauna places the tape around your mouth while nat holds your face still. "good. now we can't hear him complain." he slaps your face playfully and shauna moves to sit on your legs.

her hands leisurely travel down to your pants, running against your unfortunate bulge. you hear hear chuckle as you moan from her hands feeling around it, still trying to wiggle out of the rope. "seems like your mouth says no, but your head says yes." she squeezes your tdick, making your whimper out in pleasure.

as she unbuckles your belt, you feel a wave of panic surge through your body and start kicking your legs again, but you can't lie, some part of you likes this. you hear nat mock how you're still struggling and he kneels by your head. "look at him shauna, still tryna fight back when he knows we've won."

nat roughly tugs your pants down to your mid thighs and you hide your face into your arms as you prepare for their words as they notice how drenched your boxers are. they both coo, rubbing their hands along your skin, groping and grabbing at you.

"c'mon, just relax. we'll take care of you." nat murmurs in your ear, lifting your shirt up to your chin. he squeezes both your pecs before harshly pinching one of your nipples between his fingers. you groan out in pain, trying to twist your body away from him.

shauna's still feeling you up, but now her focus is on your stomach - specfically your happy trail. she tugs and pulls until it feels uncomfortable and you plead for her to stop, but your voice is concealed.

"what's that, sweetie?" she asks in a sickly, sweet tone. "i couldn't hear you."

"i think he wants us to fuck him already." nat replies, getting up and heading to the kitchen. he returns with a pair of scissors and your eyes widen. he cuts a strip up your shirt, tearing the rest off so your upper half is completely naked.

you hide your face in your arms as nat leans down to lick at your hard nipples, ashamed at how much pleasure you're getting out of this. he bites down, growling like a dog as he tugs it between his teeth. as he's savoring your upper half, shauna's doing the same to your lower half.

she's giving your tdick little licks through your boxers, holding your hips down as you subconsciously try to hump her face. you slowly relax against the couch, mind going empty and numb as you take in everything that's happening to you.

"look at him, natty." shauna speaks softly, as if she spoke any louder you'd go back to fighting them. "he's finally giving in."

"good boy," nat praises you. you whimper, turning your head to face him as you stare down at him with dazed eyes. "i think he's ready." he nods at shauna.

your body shudders as shauna cuts up your boxers and takes them off, the cold air making your tdick twitch. she immediately warms you up though, greed mouth hungrily sucking you off.

nat watches for a minute before scooting over and resting a hand on shauna's head, making her bob up and down on your cock. your eyes flutter as you melt further into the couch, letting them use you however they want.

"i think we're gonna keep you, pizza boy." nat rasps out, and when you open your eyes, his are already on yours.

and you don't fight back, you don't disagree, because you want to be theirs. forever.

#.myworks #yellowjackets x reader #shauna shipman x reader #natalie scatorccio x reader #yellowjackets smut #natalie scatorccio smut #shauna shipman smut

[tom-foolery-incorporated]

May I have Thomas Hewitt or Bubba Sawyer giving their S/O breast massages after breastfeeding their baby (Slashers and their S/O's baby) You can add other slashers if you like. Even I'm starting to like the Sinclairs

Bodacious boob brimming ask bro!

Thomas Hewitt, Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, and Lester Sinclair, AFAB! Reader, gender neutral reader, racially ambiguous reader, fluff, some suggestive content, headcanons, mentions of breastfeeding, boob massaging, not really NSFW but I still tagged it since I go into some light detail

Thomas Hewitt

you rarely breastfed your baby directly

instead you opted to pump then store the milk for later

while you didn't mind Luda Mae or Thomas watching you breastfeed your baby, Hoyt and Monty were another thing

So you pumped, stored, bottled, then fed your baby like that

But the silicone flange on your pump cracked then tore rendering the device useless until you can get new ones

So you opted to do things the old fashioned way

You never realized how spoiled you were with that fancy pump until you actually had to have your baby drink directly from the tap

It wasn't an unbearable pain but man did you prefer the pump

Afterwards it felt like your breasts were twice as sore than usual

And lucky you with your big bear of a man to come to your rescue

Thomas held you in his lap with your back to his chest and took handfuls of your breasts

He softly rolled your boobs in his hand trying to be careful not to get too rough with your poor sore body

And while you were getting relief from your previous feeding session, Thomas was starting to use your breasts as stress balls

There is just something about how soft and squishy your chest is that really helps him relax

Honestly, he turns massaging your breasts into a daily thing

It's less of a sexual thing with Thomas and more of loving way to destress with you

Bo Sinclair

He can't keep it in his pants

However, it surprised you that he mind your breastfeeding

It wasn't sexual to him, you're the parent of his child doing your part in taking care of it

"Now don't you go drinkin' 'em dry," Bo teased one day, "gotta save some for your pops."

A teasing comment once every blue moon was all that came from him

If you're really tired, he'll hold your guys' baby for you while the little thing suckles

Now when you asked for him to rub your breasts?

Bo went and took it the wrong way

He immediately went for your nipples and became confused when you hissed and pulled away

"Not like that!" you whined grabbing his calloused hands, palm down, to press to your sore breasts

Bo is still turned on by this but will gladly massage your breasts

You don't have to ask him twice

"My baby's all spent and sore?" he'd coo in a low voice as his hands worked wonders in easing the tension in your tits

Having Bo massage you would most likely turn into sex

He just can't help himself with your beautiful body that gave birth to his kid relaxing under his hands

Maybe if you weren't so irresistible, Bo would be less horny

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent suggested that you pump in private or breastfeed in private since he doesn't know how Bo will react

The last thing he wants is some sleazy comment being slung at you by his brother

But Vincent was delightfully surprised when Bo didn't say anything

Sure he glanced to see if he could see some titty but other than that he didn't care

"Glad I dont have to worry 'bout accidentally drinkin' your breastmilk," Bo joked when he learned how you'd rather breastfeed than pump

Vincent on the other hand

He was pretty pumped, pun intended, to drink from you

Massaging your breasts? He's already on it

Long fingers gently rolling the fat of your chest against his palms

Holding and lifting them a little so you could get some relief from their weight

A teasing swipe over your nipple that has you sending a playful warning glance at him

Sit on his lap while he sketches and he'll use your boob like a stress ball with his free hand

Vincent is so gently with your sore breasts you'd honestly fallen asleep one time while he massaged and played with them

Lester Sinclair

Lester gets slightly flushed when he sees you breastfeed

it's less him getting turned on by the act but more that your titty is out

And boy does he love your boobs

He'd help you pump if that's easier

While he does get a little flustered while you're breastfeeding, he still loves to cuddle up to you and your baby while it feeds

Lester would run his hand along the back of the baby's head just in awe at what you two had created

He's at your beck and call whenever you're breastfeeding

Lester has 100% hand fed you while you breastfed your baby

Now when the baby has its post-meal nap, you don't even have to ask twice

His hands are on your breasts the second you put your baby down

It's 50/50 whether Lester turns the massage sexual

Sometimes he just likes reviling in the trust you have for him and how much he loves you as his hands work on your sore boobs

Lester massages your breasts to he's worship the body that birthed his child

The course skin on his hands dragging over your shirt covered breasts as they work out your soreness

He absolutely melts when you lean into him while he's rubbing your boobs

The relaxed look on your face makes him want to cry and hold you until you realize how much he absolutely adores you

Other times, Lester likes to try to get you riled up during the massage

A quick kiss to your neck, a little jiggle, oops did he rub your nipple?

Honestly, he's tried your breastmilk out of curiosity more than any sort of kink

Lester isn't one to actively seek our your breastmilk but he does love sucking your titties and he isn't disappointed when he gets a little snack in the process

#my writing #slashers #slasher #slasher fandom #vincent sinclair #bo sincalir #lester sinclair #thomas hewitt #slasher smut #vincent sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #slasher x reader #slasher x reader smut #slasher fluff #slasher x reader fluff

[aller-geez]

Can I just say?? Your art style?? Rocks. Are you into any other kind of whump for your characters? For some reason I keep imagining Remi with pneumonia 😬

Hey there anon!

Thank you so much for your super kind words! Totally made my day 🥺🥺

As for other kinds of whump, as long as my boy(s) are miserable and disheveled I’m on board 🤤 Illness, injury, psychological, I’m game to torture my babies 🫠

Especially Remi, idk, he’s just so whump-able 😍😍

I enjoyed your concept so much I had to draw it and ohhhh my god 🫠🤤

Remi and Levi currently live in Alaska, and my stubborn boy is known to overwork himself, especially if his pride is on the line in any way shape or form..

So the wolf is no stranger to severe bouts of pneumonia that render him completely useless while his lungs turn into wet sandbags and try to suffocate him. He could handle the chest pain and the fever if that was the end of it, but the inevitable struggle to breathe against what felt like waves within his diaphragm to the point of lightheadedness constantly was always what did him in. Thankfully though, he tends to be over the worst of it after about a week of solid bed rest.. although, by that time, even Levi usually wants to kill his restless mate. 🙃

#geezieart #geezieanswers #remington connors #illness whump #snz ocs #snzblr #snz #snezblr #snz kink #snzfucker #sneeze kink #snz fet #snz things #snz blog #no snz #remixlevi #fever whump #i love my ocs #now suffer #sneeze #sick #sneezeblr #whumpblr #whump stuff #whump? #whump art #whump #whumpee #oc shit #oc

[nexusnyx]

Honestly been thinking bout Shuri proposing to reader or their wedding 🤭

📑 thank you for the request babe! i loved the idea. shuri x gn!reader | 0.7k

Nothing about Shuri's proposal would be an accident.

Shuri's a planner. A Visionaire.

Her love for you is a map by now. A map of lands only she knows so personally, a map of every sea, land, and crook between worlds—Shuri took days of her life, dedicated them to learning the things you love and the things you still hide for some reason, and she's a scientist, first and foremost. You're her most adored, cared and important case study. The 'they love me' case study, the 'I, too, love them, with everything in me' case study; how could it've been? Shuri analyzed it. She put it under a microscope, and when that failed to explicit all the reasons why she was pulled towards you like a magnet always has a North and South, she felt it.

So she planned.

Shuri laid out the schematics bit by bit. First, the consultant was Griot, that at some point grew tired of her back and forth and re-directed her with a "perharps someone who is capable of feelings would be better suited to guide you, Princess" and, of course, how had she not thought of it before? Next, came the Doras. Her closest friends at this point, and women she knew would offer the most upfront and honest opinions.

What came surprised her—words that no calculation or speculation could've prepared her for, but that she would never forget.

"Follow your heart, Shuri. Some things come to us when we open ourselves to them. You two were made to share a path. I'm certain you'll find out how to set out the intention for that."

And she was right—Okoye often was, but this time, she hit the spear right in the core of it:

It came to her as you did: a flash in the night. A comet piercing through the sky. Light, and heat, and you.

"What?" God, how she loved your smile.

"Nothing." It was hard to speak through her smile, but always worth it. Your smile widened with hers showing. "You said 'when it's our family'."

"I... yeah. Yeah I did."

"You think about our future," Shuri could see it now.

"Of course I do," your face said that much was obvious. "I love you. And we're together. I think a lot about what we will do, just as I think about all that we've done. I like thinking about us."

Shuri saw a lake—an empty, sacred view known by few, and surrounded by fireflies. "It's still nice to hear it." She saw your favorite flowers — all three of them — creating a corridor that led you straight to her. There were suspended lights illuminating the path, and you dressed in a traditional, hand-made gown. "What else do you think about?"

Blushed cheeks looked better on you than the sunset did in the sky. "I... I don't know. Everything?" The way you snugged your body closer to hers when you were shy. Shuri pictured if you'd do that when she got down on her knees and started babbling the first thing that came to mind—planning a speech would be useless; Shuri had never not been rendered speechless at the sight of you all dressed up. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" Shuri laughed—you felt shy when she looked at you unabashedly in public.

You two were still at dinner with her friends, after all.

"You know what," you narrowed your eyes at her, smiling so wide your cheeks must hurt. "Panther look."

"Hmmmm." Shuri pictured music playing in the background, too—that would be easy to make. "I have a surprised planned for you," she had details to work out still, but the main idea was already completed.

Your eyes shone. "You do?"

"I do." Somehow, your kiss and her words gave her a sense of deja vu.

She could see everything already.

Your path together was only getting started.

↳ my inbox 💌 | tip jar ♡ | ✒️ masterlist ↲

#usernexusnyx #shuri headcanon #shuri x reader #shuri black panther #shuri x woc!reader #shuri x you #shuri x y/n #shuri fic #shuri fanfiction #shuri fluff #shuri drabble #shuri blurb

[silverthelovebug]

((CW: Mentions of violence and body horror

Faybelle shifted, closing the History of Evil Spells hextbook and tossing it into the pile of other discarded books about curses and hexes. ‘Useless crap’, she thought, moving to the next aisle in the library. An infected student slugged past her; someone from Hero Training 101, not that Faybelle took names. She side stepped the student and pulled out another book, skimming through that one before; that too was discarded.

“This is so annoying!” The dark fairy whined, rubbing her temple. No books had anything even remotely close to what was plaguing the school — and with the loss of Baba Yaga — only godmother knows where that old hag had ran off to after the initial outbreak; there weren’t any other evil teachers who were as ancient as her as to have a clue what was going on.

None that were alive, anyway.

A sudden commotion caught the fairy’s attention, and Faybelle stepped out from the bookshelves to see what was going on.

Briar was salivating over the Hero Training 101 student that had just passed Faybelle, having pinned him to the ground in a tussle, and the princess was certainly winning. She could only guess that the prince had unfortunately bumped shoulders with Briar, which triggered a bout of aggression caused by the virus. Faybelle would feel bad for the guy if it weren’t for the fact that watching Briar maul people was kinda hot (but it’s not like she liked her like that).

Seriously, that girl did hextreme sports, her muscles could rival that of any of the guys at their school (not that Faybelle took notice of Briar’s body).

“Briar, he’s not worth your time. He failed Crownculus Class, put him down.” (‘He’ll die anyways’) Faybelle spoke, snapping her fingers a few times. Briar looked in the fairy’s direction. Of course, the glass obstructed her eyesight, only basing Faybelle’s position in the room by sound.

The party girl ignored Faybelle’s request, placing her teeth dangerously close to the prince’s throat as if she were going to rip it out.

“Hey— no, drop it. Drop it.” The dark fairy commanded once more, fluttering over to the two.

Briar let out a groan before getting off of the prince, watching him scamper away. “He started it.” She mumbled, folding her arms. Faybelle just rolled her eyes, watching Briar go back to pacing around the library again, saliva uncontrollably falling from her lips, kicking any books at her feet and scratching her face. Faybelle’s eyes softened for a moment, wondering how hexactly the girl must’ve felt with glass literally tearing open her skin, rendering her blind.

But it’s not like she cared about the girl like that.

It’s not why she begrudgingly went back to looking for a possible cure for the “Kindness Blindness Virus” as others were calling it.

Faybelle was just trying to get her destiny back. Which just so happened to include Briar.

#eah #ever after high #briar beauty #faybelle thorn #Kindness Blindness Virus #Ever After High Infection AU #Apple infected Briar who infected Blondie #They're the rare bite cases #Faybelle kinda treats Briar like a dog #Not on purpose #She just #genuinely doesn’t know how to help her #so she's keeping her at arms length #doomed yuri #bribelle

[lerry-hazel]

No good old book is safe from modern television :-(

I guess it’s my problem that, talented and handsome as he is, David Tennant on his own is not enough to keep me invested;

but to me 2021 adaptation of “Around The World in 80 Days” feels like someone read the acclaimed masterpiece of adventure literature and concluded they could probably force-feed it to modern audience – if they changed pretty much everything about it,

starting with replacing the famously unperturbable leading character with an angsty helpless idiot prone to random bouts of misplaced overconfidence.

Basically, Jules Verne’s world is full of wonder and delight that generous progress has suddenly brought within our reach;

 Ashley Pharoah’s world is full of cruelty, injustice and heinousness, and – regardless of beautiful landscapes and phony happy ending – doesn’t seem worthy to leave the comfort of your home for.

Also featuring, tedious side-quests rendered useless by the very nature of the narrative, and glaring plotholes preemptively inexcusable by the fact of not existing in the book.  

They didn’t even have an elephant, heh

#around the world in 80 days #2021 #screen adaptation #jules verne #disappointed

[eddysocs]

Beach Bums (Jack Tripper x OC)

Summary: A day at the beach spent with Jack proves both comical and endearing and it makes Lily realize she’d never want to be anywhere else.

Word Count: 657

Warnings: Usual Three's Company shenanigans, but really just fluff.

Lily and Jack headed to the shore, the sun shining brightly overhead in the early afternoon. Jack sat down the picnic basket he had packed just moments before they left and helped lay out their beach towels. Then, in an attempt to impress Lily, he stretched out on his towel and flexed his muscles, which only led to him pulling a muscle in his back the wrong way which ended with him collapsed on the towel, moaning about the pain.

Lily fought to suppress the smile that played at her lips at poor Jack, who only had himself to blame for the pain. He hardly needed to be showing off for her, but she had to admit, she kind of liked that he felt the need to put in the effort. "Roll over," she ordered. Once he was on his stomach, Lily rubbed the aching muscle until it wasn’t so tensed up. "Better," she asked.

"I don’t think it would hurt if you went a little lower," Jack flirted, clearly feeling more like his usual self already. His response earned him a quick pinch to his arm. "Ow," he whined, sitting up and moving an extra inch or two away from Lily. "That wasn’t very nice."

Undeterred by Jack's childishness, Lily decided to take a dip in the ocean. Jack, overeager to join her, enthusiastically sprinted towards the water. Lily gracefully swam out several feet into the ocean and turned back before she came back up for air. Jack watched slack jawed at the way her skin glistened with droplets of seawater as she threw back her wet hair.

Lily splashed him for staring, but it only stopped him for a moment. Then his gaze fixed on her again, watching her hips sway in her blue bikini as she walked back towards shore. Only on their way back did they realize that the strong summer breeze had blown Lily's towel down the beach and into the sea spray, rendering it soaked and useless.

Feeling somehow responsible, Jack tried to salvage the situation by gallantly offering Lily his own towel to dry off with when he saw her shiver. He was content enough to air dry while they ate. Jack had prepared an assortment of finger sandwiches, sliced fruits, and other snacks, which he was quite proud of. He grinned at the way Lily seemed to be enjoying his food.

Just as they were settling in, a mischievous seagull swooped down and snatched Jack's carefully crafted sandwich right from his hand. Lily burst into laughter, finding the whole scenario too amusing to resist. Jack floundered in his attempt to swat the bird away, but it had made off with his sandwich anyway. Dejected, Jack's face turned into a pout and this only spurred on another bout of laughter from Lily.

After a while, Jack brushed off the seagull incident, suggesting they take a romantic stroll along the shoreline just as the sun was starting to set. Despite the mishaps the day had brought upon them, Lily agreed, thinking it would be the perfect way to wrap up their day together.

However, not long after they began their walk, Jack, ever the klutz, tripped over a child's toy halfway buried in the sand, sending him sprawling face first onto the beach. Lily extended a helping hand, stifling yet another bit of laughter, but was surprised when Jack pulled her down to the ground with him. Recovering from the shock of his unexpected move, they both soon burst into laughter, not caring about the sandy mess they were becoming.

Staying put, Lily and Jack stayed to observe the sun slowly descend below the horizon, both covered in sand and yet still smiling. Lily leaned over, bumping Jack's side with her own. When he turned to her, the way the light caught his eyes made her realize this whole day had been just what she’d needed. He was what she needed.

Forever Tag: @arrthurpendragon, @baubeautyandthegeek, @foxesandmagic, @carmens-garden, @bossyladies, @getawaycardotmp3, @misshiraethsworld, @kmc1989, @curious-kittens-ocs, @fanficanatic-tw

#oc: lily daniels #fc: pamela sue martin #fd: three's company #lily x jack #jack tripper #jack tripper x oc #three's company

[sassooda]

Worlds Away JJK AU / Chapter 90 - Taste 🔞

w/c - 7,105

               The guttural growls fumbling through the humidified door become her sole focus as Elska braces herself against the farthest wall. Contrasting emotions spiral in her chest as the natural anticipation to be before her turned battles against her senses that alarm of who she is so eager to see.  The doorknob rattles before rotating counterclockwise, her eyes fixated while she hurriedly plans evasion. Being confined to this bathroom means she’ll either have to retaliate against Nanami or surrender and despite that eccentric appetency of desire lurking under her fear, neither sound like great options.

               When the door creaks open 2/3of the way and settles, the ravenous illuminating eyes of her newest turned stare back as the visible part of his face meets light. His typically well groomed hair lies messily across his forehead, his shirt half buttoned and wrinkled to hell. It’s so strange to her that with all that’s imminently unraveling, she chooses to notice these unnecessary differences in his presentation; her need to surveillance him increasing as his stalwart chest catches her view. He snarls roguishly, taking steps closer and snapping her out of the inappropriate curiosity as a possible opening appears.

               Elska rams by, between him and the sink as the torrent of adrenaline carries her bare feet until she’s made to duck and slide under his arm to pass. Her eyes steal a glimpse of Naoya still resting in the bed, whimpers mimicking the pit crystalizing in her gut as her prince is incapacitated and will not be coming to the rescue. Her eyes snaps upwards as the mere seconds wasted on dependency cost her time needed to create distance. He’s gotten ahold of her hair.

               ‘Rescue…’, she fastens her eyes shut as Nanami yanks her backwards against his chest and snarls into her ear, ‘me?’. She’s strapped down by this sort of purgatory, one that was born of her stalemate of yearning and reason until she remembers exactly who the fuck she is. They flare back open with bright beaming dashes, colors representing not only her lovers but her prodigious strength. She can do this. She can tame Kento just like her other turned and this epiphany strikes as her throat becomes viced with his soft but mauling hand. “Nana-mi!”, she wails to the best of her abilities, grabbing and squeezing his wrist with the Master’s will beaconing in her blood.

               He roars in response to Elska’s grip, her delicate looking fingers crushing his very bones but he quickly calms down and attempts to utter, “Mast-…er…”. She darts her vision to his other hand that was caressing her waist, fearful of its absence and for good reason. Her eyes widen when she recognizes that same paralyzing attack that rendered her useless during his awakening accumulating. A realization slices through her.

Toji and Nanami only seem to inherently ever use it when they’re frenzied and she tries to flee. She doubles her body forward, bending her knees as they awkwardly summersault into the dark bedroom. She wonders if he’s been given claws because of the rabid way he fights to keep ahold, the stinging pain from him nails making note to her brain through the blunder of the struggle. Their elbows and legs take turns thudding into the cold wooden floor, the small sliver of light from the bathroom gracing parts of Nanami as he rolls on top and pins her down. He’s far stronger than he appears and she understands that she’s underestimated him because she went limp in their previous bout.

               His fangs form while he crawls between her legs and immediately grinds his hardened flesh into her spreading beauty. She feels her cheeks flush as his parted lips lightly drag from her neck to her breasts, taking them into his mouth through her thin black tank top. “God damn it…”, she gasps, the spell of the ritual consuming her, drowning her with thirsts when the points of his elongated teeth graze along her hills. She squirms, attempting to wriggle out from his weight but he gathers that bizarre energy and draws his arm back as if he’s going to pummel her with it. Desperate for him to relinquish that attack, she does her best to make him think she won’t run and strings her arms around his neck to create the intimacy he needs. Nanami roars viciously, almost like he’s vacillating but she knows better than to think there’s any logic within him right now. No, he needs the comfort of his master. His deep red radiant eyes fix to her stoically as she cautiously nears his face. Her nerves making her think that he’ll strike at any given moment but he instead waits to see what she’ll do. “My beloved turned…”, she whispers against his lips that huff out savagery, “I’m staying right here until you’re better.”. She holds her breath as their lips meet but finds herself yelping with surprise when his arms engulf her and his tongue hungrily slips into her mouth.

               It’s still so unusual, so disturbing and unclean, this sensation of Nanami’s fevered touch against her body. Her hands now run through his hair though, one parting ways to glide down his back and to endure the appetizing way his muscles contract when his hips roll between her legs. He is her turned and never has it been plastered so blatantly in front of her as it is now. This is natural yet this is wrong. He growls into her mouth as his fingers thrash past his pants to expose his girth. She moans breathlessly when it rests against her cotton shorts, stroking her bundle of nerves and occasionally prodding her core. His jaw slacks as he sits on his knees to his feet, lifting her into his lap to finally pulverize the cause of his glitching humanity.

               Elska lustfully glares down at her starved turned who’s about to try and penetrate her through her pajamas. Wondering if he was too out of it to actually go through with the sexual aspect left her with comfort but it’s stripped away as he swiftly snags her shorts and panties aside and thrusts his hips upwards, making her take almost all of him in one go. Her eyes well up to the stark burn from being stretched instantly and the lack of sound leaving her is due to deficiency of anticipation. Before she knows it, he's fucking right into her repeatedly, leaving her stunned and unable to counteract in his caging arms. His grunts of satisfaction cling to her neck as she’s lifted and lowered to his rhythm of choice, those blonde bangs tickling her face. Elska quietly cries his name in a way that could be taken as pleasure or offense but shortly after, he groans and pierces her neck.

               Nanami tastes the depths of her and as his sanity gradually returns, more articulated sounds become him. ‘This flavor…’, he hums to Elska’s pleasured voice while slowly rocking his hips to a halt, now only concerned with drinking more of this liquid. His mind fires off with so many codes, feelings translated into a type of mental braille of which only some can he decipher.

Arousal.

It was like he was given this one as a freebie because he can determine Elska’s like he was born to. She seems to be in need of this encounter as much as himself.

Acceptance.

He can taste their bond and is fueled by her very existence as it bleeds into his own. ‘Master…’. He gulps down more, breathing heavily through his nose as to his dismay, she starts to hurriedly push him away.

Regret.

Nanami’s cleared crimson eyes rush open. She’s yelling his name but even for how loud she’s doing it, her voice now seems so far away. He shudders with culpability, now fully realizing what they’ve done. He regrets it now too as she stiffens her arms against his chest to escape but all he can respond with is a disheartening, “Oda…”.

               “YOU HAVE TO GO!”, she desperately tries to break free of his grasp as Naoya has now woken. Her usually loving prince stalks them with a thundered expression that hones into Kento, leaving her in a frantic mess since Nanami hasn’t completely recovered. She screams when Naoya lunges and wrestles Kento into the floor above her, toppling him with the exaggerated power of one who is frenzied. By the time she gathers herself up and turns to see them, Nanami is gritting his teeth with extended arms fighting for his life. Naoya roars so loud that the entire room shakes, rumbling glass and furniture tapping into walls stifles her with the very real possibility that he’ll butcher Nanami.  

               Nanami feels the heat from the golden light and suffers 2nd degree burns along his body after it courses over Naoya, to himself. The smell of his own flesh cooking throws him into overdrive but its almost useless as the intense hatred fumes out of the Zenin man above. ‘Is this it then?’, he hears his own voice asking himself.

               “I…warned you!”, Naoya chaotically seethes prior to smashing his head into Nanami’s, temporarily dazing the manager. The prince bears his fangs and unhinges his jaw in preparation to rip Kento’s throat out.

               “NAOYA!!”, Elska gets to her feet, reaching out a hand, “DON’T DO IT!!!!”.

               Nanami witnesses the second clarity resounds through the Zenin, his facial expression warping to innocent confusion, fangs retracting. Kento doesn’t dare make a move though, not until he’s positive the danger has disappeared.

               “Princess?”, Naoya turns his head to see Elska crying with relief as recent events replay in his mind. Without giving Nanami a second thought, Naoya stumbles over him and clumsily rushes to Elska, embracing her. “Fuck baby…”, he burrows his face into her hair with a broken voice, “I’m sorry! I couldn’t stop myself when I saw what he was doing to you.”. She holds him back but with trembling extremities that leave him with reignited persecution. He releases Elska and stomps back over towards Nanami who’s now collected himself enough to stand. The shame on Kento’s face registers but Naoya finds the assault on his princess to be condemning in itself.

               When Naoya yolks up his collar, Nanami’s gaze falls to the side. He does nothing to defend himself as he doesn’t know why he should. Once again, he’s gone after Elska but that’s not even the worst part. He fucking loved every minute of it and all that she was making him feel.

               “WHY WOULD YOU FUCKING DO THIS, PRICK?!”, Naoya shakes him, wishing for the right excuse to royally wreck this fucker for what he’s done. “EVERYONE FUCKING TRUSTS YOU!”, Nanami says nothing at all however and the silent speaks volumes and convinces Naoya to swing.

               “He can’t help it Naoya! You know this!”, Elska grimaces in reaction to Naoya’s anger since her perfectly accurate explanation only pisses him off more. He shouts, “Oh, so I should just let him fuck you then?”, which causes her knees to waver. She fails to produce a response as her logic becomes trodden with his own.

               “SHE IS NOT YOURS!”, Naoya shouts into Nanami, slugging him across the face again but with a denser fist. Kento takes the punch rather well but the remaining guilt in the his eyes brings Naoya to deepened viciousness. He’s so fucking furious over this but also with himself because he completely understands what Nanami is going through but can’t bring himself to condone their evolving relationship. He gathers up energy, planning to certainly leave a mark.

               “Uh, I don’t think so little Naoya…”.

               “Sati! Toji!!!”, Elska runs to her giant beloved who hugs her like they haven’t seen each other in years. She hears him smell her and then feels Toji’s hypertonicity dissolve, a smile breaking across her face as everything feels better already with them around. Naoya starts bickering with Gojo next but Satoru has already placed himself between the Zenin and Nanami.

               “He was fucking, fucking her! Our Princess!”, Naoya yells defensively, “And why the fuck are you naked?!”.  With hands planted on his hips, he raises one to point out Gojo’s lack of ensemble.

               Satoru glances over to Nanami and reads the situation. A sadness creeps across his heart as the voice he heard within earlier, lied.  His face sours, ‘She was supposed to be protected by Naoya, Nanami’s dick wasn’t supposed to get anywhere near her!’. So why? “Fuck…”, Satoru exhales heavily while studying both Zenin and Nanami alike, hating that he can’t back Naoya like he usually would. “This wasn’t supposed to happen…”.

               Toji narrows his eyes and jerks his view to Gojo, not understanding why he’d say that or how he’d know things were supposed to happen differely. He feels Elska clinging, thus distracting him as her small form is all he’s wanting to care about. “Doll…”, he snuggles her up, “You’re ok, right?”.

               “I don’t have any explanation…”, Nanami bravely speaks up but looks over to Elska.

               “Take your fucking eyes off of her right now…”, Naoya growls under his breath, “Maybe your girlfriend would like to hear about your wandering cock?!”.

               With the mention of Shoko, Nanami snaps. He shoots out an energized attack but the Zenin dodges it with the use of projection. Before Kento even knows where he went, Naoya is wrenching a structured fist into his gut, causing him to drop to his knees. Once on the ground, he rests his back into the side of the couch while trying to recover. He looks up, expecting Naoya to swing again but the Zenin’s face is frozen with increased irritation as he seems to be glaring on something on the couch itself.

               “Fucking...GETOU?!”.

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               Orao wakes up to drizzling mist coating his face and the fact that he’s lying in his own blood. He sits up, wobbling as his body remembers how to balance upright, completely unsure of where he’s at or what he was doing until he hears hastened footsteps splashing into the wettened environment.

               “That was definitely Kento’s energy!”, a woman says with hysterics brimming in her tone.

A man responds to her as they run past where Orao was left but he’s unable to make out what the guy said. His voice doesn’t carry like whoever the chick is. She says more as well but they were really booking it so he couldn’t understand it all but his ears ring to the mention of Elska.

It all comes flooding back, his mission on Earth, who he’s here to destroy and why. “Elska, huh?”, he grins past his cuts and bruises, wiping blood from his chin. Then the smile fades. He’s now recalling that black haired guy with the weird marking on his face. ‘That one’s her for sure…’, he contemplates while sneaking far behind the pair that are still running towards a building. ‘But what the hell else is he? He’s not merely a turned…”. Orao, being of pure-blooded royalty was always trained in the ways of their origins. There’re many ancient accounts of turned and humans alike making contact with their progenitor, a deity that graced their ancestors with power and purpose. Normally, this would seem like an outlandish connection to make for Orao but he simply can’t ignore one fatal descriptor. ‘His eyes…’, he thinks to himself, ‘That violet hue…’.

He slows his pace after the man and woman barrel through the front door, inspecting his surroundings as caution is his friend here. He squints down the long dark foyer while reviewing, “He fucked me up!”, the hasty whisper colluding his disdain as he relives the words spoken to him.

“I want to crush your skull and dine on your brains, you pathetic blip of my loin” and “How dare you show yourself here so boldly with what you intend?”.

‘And he seemed to know far more about me than he should…’. This makes Orao quite nervous. There is only one man that is aware of his recruitment into this stage of things and even though he doesn’t fully trust Genghis, Orao can’t find reason behind the assumption of betrayal. As he nears the building, his steps slow. He can’t believe the amount of strength that is being contained behind those walls. It’s fucking crazy. His brow lifts, however when he senses someone rather familiar, his mouth salivating to her wicked presence. ‘But…’, he freezes in place as his hand reaches for the door, ‘She’s different now.’. His thoughts cease out of fear, he eyes scanning around him as if that would help him identify the true horror of what he’s feeling. ‘Her prowess has been greatly understated…’, It’s not just her, but all of her turned are so incredibly strong that he’s met with dread. ‘How did she get this way?!’, he’s baffled by her presence and even more ridiculed by that of her creations as this does not seem to bode well for him and his brother. ‘Did they really force her to do this? How did she eclipse the pure-bloods in such a short time?’, It’s now that he comprehends why Genghis was so frazzled when he requested help. ‘But why wouldn’t he convey to our King that they’re behemoths in terms of power?’, none of this adds up. His intuition screams danger ahead but all in the same, as his heart races, he restructures himself with the knowledge that he’ll soon see her again. No amount of sensibility can stave off his desire to be near the one he’s bitten. ‘Benghil may have finalized the transformation but…’, he licks his lips, ‘I was the first to taste her. She is mine as well…bonded to us both.’. Orao’s putted singular moment of unabashed pride is once again tinkered when he senses that same obsidian creature lurking somewhere in the distance, getting closer. He jumps inhumanely high, up to the roof and hides as Choso steadily stares at the door below until those menacing orbs flash up right to his position as if the being knew all along.

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By the time Hiromi and Shoko make it to the room, they’re needing a second to process all that is going on. Shoko first sees Elska, tattered and in Toji’s arms which causes her concern until she views Nanami. “Kento!”, she cries and runs towards him, evading Gojo and Naoya who are in the middle of a shoving match. She drops down beside her boyfriend who looks worse for wear and asks, “What happened? Did they hurt you?!”.

Hiromi stumbles backwards when Naoya flies into him, his patience being tested. “Get off of me!”, he shouts while pushing the Zenin so hard, Naoya falls face first to the floor, “Blood shaman…”.

Elska growls and directs her visible eye to the Hiromi. She moves away from Toji to back him against the wall with intolerance cloaking her every move. “Don’t you ever put a hand on one of my turned again…”, she seethes with rancorous intent, “Human.”.

“I’m fine, baby…just…let it go.”, Naoya sits up but remains on the floor, clearly depressed. He doesn’t mean to act out like that but he can only take so much. He’s only just woken up and he found Nanami invading his princess and then Getou on the couch. It’s as if he can never win.

Elska glares at Hiromi but kneels down beside her prince, never breaking that threatening expression. Something other than disdain mirrors back to her though and his body language is of someone who’s apologetic. She surmises that he didn’t mean to cross her.                                                                    

“Come on, let’s get the hell out of here.”, Shoko encourages Nanami to his feet, brushing him off and cupping his face only to see glowing eyes. They very sight of radiating red riddles her with unease but it’ll take more than this to make her give up on him, “I’m taking you home with me.”.

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea. I’ve been away from her before and let me tell you, Shoko, it ain’t pretty. You should know.”, Toji of course doesn’t want Kento around Elska but at the same time, none of this is the man’s fault so Toji struggles with condoning his suffering. “He’ll need to feed.”.

Shoko stands with Kento, enraged, “FUCK YOU! I’LL FEED HIM!”, her presence swarming uncharacteristically.

The room falls silent as Hiromi clears his throat and assists with supporting the roughed-up manager. He looks around the room, waiting for one of those blood-thirsty demons to oppose. He glances at Elska again, pestered by the strange drive within him to be near her because of what she is.

Gojo sighs when he scans over Nanami’s defeated expression. ‘Hang in there…’, he thinks to his friend, earning an instant response as Kento lifts his head and scours the room for an explanation. ‘It’s me Nanamin, and don’t worry, you will get through this.’.

Elska’s expression softens the moment Nanami spirals into tears, his head hanging low once again while Shoko and Hiromi guide him out of the room. Her hand on Naoya’s back halts from rubbing and stiffens as she watches her newest turned being escorted away. She’s always cared about Nanami because he was such a good friend to her, Satoru, everyone really. Now however, she coming to terms with how much more important he is to her and how ugly this is likely to become because of their bond. ‘He feels it too…’, she acknowledges with a heavy heart, ‘What have I done?’. She’s so wrapped up in the removal of Nanami that she doesn’t even feign a sign of remorse to Shoko who just exploded.

Toji and Gojo walk over to her and Naoya, everyone catching their breath after another dramatic occurrence. Toji leans down and tucks his hands under Naoya’s arms, “Get up boy.”, but with sympathy in his tone.

Elska hugs and holds her prince, his head becoming progressively heavier on top of her shoulder. “I’m so sorry my prince…”, she whimpers as the sadness in his energy accumulates. He’s always been more sensitive than the others and her heart aches knowing he’s always put in trying situations because of her.

“Why the fuck is he here?”, the Zenin’s deep voice sings his vengeance, his arms loosely hanging by his side, trying to not gaze over to the slumbering Titer. “After what he did!?”

“He is one of us.”.

Gojo’s neck nearly breaks when he whips it around to discover what the fuck could be permeating such an impenetrable air. His six eyes expose Choso for what he really is, or for who else he’s truly harboring. The being doesn’t even contain the same sequence of energy production, thus leading to his presence comprising of a completely different, awe-inspiring fashion. It’s so ominous, brutal and deadly, that of which makes Satoru swallow down air as he configures this person before them all.

“Holy shit Cho! How did your hair get so long?!”, Naoya walks over to his buddy and flips the ends of the wavy black strands that now rest against his shoulders, “You’re not holding out on hair products are you!?”. The being smiles kindly to him but keeps his secrets while Naoya walks around him, assessing the new look with approval. “I think I like it! You might lose your waves if it gets too long though, they’ll be weighed down.”. Naoya’s bias towards the being salvages his mood.

Toji gathers Elska into his reach and slowly orients her behind him as he too is reeling from the aura Choso is putting off. ‘What happened to him?’, he wonders to himself while guarding his doll. ‘Is that even Choso?’. He’s further perplexed when Naoya appears unphased as if the Zenin is entirely unaware. ‘What the fuck Naoya? Are you insane or fucking stupid?!’.

“This has happened before too…”, Gojo mutters while thinking back to their time at the Titer compound, right before Choso was turned. ‘Naoya wasn’t alarmed by Choso’s presence even when it was raveling out of control…’. It’s all very suspicious, this new entity inside of the being but Satoru is also able to sense their adoring Choso and trusts there’s a reason for this.

Choso puts his hands to hold Naoya’s face, who’s caught off guard. Pulling him closer, Choso rests their foreheads together and states, “Promise me you’ll never stop fighting for her.”. He receives a bewildered, “Huh?”.

Toji chimes in, “Yea I don’t think you need to worry about that.”, and chuckles, “The fucker was about to tear Nanami apart.”. He silences his amusement as he’s honestly glad his cousin was unsuccessful. Nanami is a decent guy that was caught in the crossfire of their violence. Gojo’s eyes darken and Toji nods to insinuate that he wasn’t for the manager’s mutilation.

Choso darts his violet-streaked, dark eyes to Gojo, “Good.”. The comment earns a distrustful expression from Satoru who may already be putting the pieces together, but that’s alright. Honestly, against his better judgement, Choso knew that Nanami would get ahold of Elska. He also knew that it would be enlightening for their bond but the main reason he used his true voice to lie to Satoru was, he needed to know for sure that Naoya would react that way. Too much has come to pass, the path taken cannot be undone. Remorse clouds Choso in this moment as he glances back to his amber-eyed friend all while knowing that Naoya is going to be put through hell for the sake of his cause. Like many others. He just had to make sure. He needed some kind of evidence that this will not fall apart, that the sweet-flavored Zenin actually harnesses the same maddening depths as himself. The prince has to be ruthless.

Naoya’s eyes become saddened, “I-I could never abandon her.”. He pouts at his princess, wondering if she harbors even an inkling of doubt about this.

“GROUP HUG!”, Gojo opens his long arms and collects Toji and Elska as he nears Naoya and Choso.

“St-op it you fucking pervert!”, Toji grumbles reluctantly as Gojo forces him over to everyone else, trying not to touch the whitened shaman as Gojo is still only in a towel. Elska’s giggles persuade him to go along with it though, him huffing out air and blowing his bangs up in the process, “Just don’t fucking touch me! I’m done with your ass today.”.

Choso opens his arms as well, taking in Naoya and Elska happily as Toji conforms more behind her. “I love all of you so much.”, he explains with transparency as he becomes swarmed by their various scents. This is what he’s been waiting for, all of it, all of them. Choso’s trip to cloud nine abruptly ends when he looks up to find Gojo’s mask removed. That foretelling blend of red and blue in his illuminated eyes speak all the words Satoru won’t say, but the gesture was loud enough. It obvious that Gojo is putting up a front to calm everyone else down but if any of them were to see the cold expression expecting answers, they’d probably freak.

Naoya finds himself chuckling as the prolonged hug gets weird, “We’re gonna crush her!”, wriggling his hands around Elska to steal her closer to himself. “I still love you and always will, baby.”, he confesses and then feels something out of the ordinary with her body and gasps.

Choso, knowing that Toji and Naoya are the only ones that haven’t fulfilled the ritual, thinks to Gojo, ‘Are you ready to learn about some of your suspicions?’. He’s given satisfied reassurance that Satoru will indeed be able to handle some of the knowledge he wishes to share, ‘It’s time then.’.

Toji is coincidentally caressed by Naoya so he grunts his frustration as Gojo and Choso step away. He watches as the Zenin slowly spins Elska around with a dumbfounded expression, mouth agape and all. Those amber eyes bleed to red as they fasten to her stomach.

“Baby?”, Naoya runs a hand through Elska’s hair as she looks up to him with the most endearing eyes. “Is…this?”, his other hand gently rests against her lower abdomen, the words escaping him completely as he searches the dull dashes permanently residing in her eyes.

“Yes, my prince…”, she brushes her fingertips over his arm until it meets her body as well, “This is your child!”. Her face splits with a teething smile as Naoya stammers with disbelief, continuously looking her over as if its too good to be true.

“No way!”, he laughs contagiously, “Baby this is amazing!”, his faces reddens with emotion, “My son!”.

“Or daughter!”, Elska playfully reminds him but knows he’ll love their baby no matter what the gender.

Toji tears up, emotively moved as Naoya’s demeanor completely switches to that of a proud parent. He knows what that’s like and couldn’t be more elated for his cousin as her baby bump has sent him over the moon. Toji knows he’ll make a fine father, a better one than he himself ever was.

Gojo turns around before exiting the room while thinking, ‘Our own little Zenin…’, smiling to himself as Naoya’s moods are often infectious and certainly impact everyone else. ‘I bet it’ll be cute! And it’ll be there for my own kid when it’s born.’. As he’s shutting the door to save them from the winter air, his last sight of them all becomes that of Naoya swinging Elska around in front of an emotional Toji. He can’t believe he possess this, a novel desire to procreate.

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Orao is before the front door again, meticulously planning out his entrance as he’s more unnerved than ever. ‘Are they all as barbaric as that one guy?’, he’s heard stories of the atrocities Elska’s turned have performed and is beginning to believe them. Does he stick with his original story or wing it with a new one? Consistency is better, right? What if he makes up something that doesn’t correspond with Genghis? That wouldn’t be good. If anyone finds out who he really is, he’s a dead man and he knows it. ‘Satoru Gojo is probably in that melting pot of energy too…no way he’d let me go.’. His mind is scrambled after experiencing their auras but his mind flashes to the pretty chick that left with two guys, one who’s a turned. He plans to have some fun in the midst of creating chaos and hopes to see that woman again to aide this conquest. But, there are more important matters at hand, like initiating his place with Elska. “Ok, time to do this…”, he resolves while placing his hand onto the knob.

“So where are we going?”, Gojo questions as they trek through the long foyer, “I should probably put on some clothes, right?”. Instead of giving elucidation, Choso instead growls and brings his knee to his chest prior to reaching the door. “Toji’s gonna be pissed! Don’t break the latch!”, is all he thinks to say after Choso pushes his leg out to storm through the door. “What the hell was that?”, Gojo asks to the loud thump that results from the swinging aperture knocking against something solid.

“AHHHHHHHHH!!!”, Orao grabs his bleeding nose with teary eyes, absolutely fed up by this point. He hastily stands up, ready to retaliate but before he knows it, Choso is inches away with fangs hanging. Suddenly all of his might and fight fizzle.

“Sorry about that…”, Choso smirks, “Here…”, and reaches down for bloodied man, but purposefully trips and drives a devastating elbow into the bodyguard that makes him wheeze for air.

“Woah what the fuck, Choso?”, Gojo looks down at the two of them, thrown off by how weird that whole exchange was. As he’s helping the being up, his eyes freeze onto the man still on the ground. He hones into the mystery man, already apprehensive of some unknown person sneaking around their home but what his eyes tell him are something incredible. “What do we have here?”, he taunts while dragging the battered man to his feet, studying his energy and discerning its variances. Satoru now understands that whatever happened to him when he fed from Elska, it’s lead to him being able to unlock more of the six-eyes capabilities, ‘But what does this mean?’.

Orao hasn’t any words that can escape his throat while fear stills him beyond repair. As he stands there, dumb and motionless, he faces the Satoru Gojo.

“There’s something off about you…”, Gojo shares while tilting his head to the side and glancing between Choso and the curly headed blonde. ‘Did Choso do that on purpose?’, he contemplates while examining the wild look in the being’s eyes, that sheer desire to kill. Gojo knows that feeling all too well.

“Body-g-guard…”, a hushed whisper leaves Orao at last, “I’m the bodyguard called upon for Elska Oda…”. He takes a deep breath, being glad that he was able to force that much out at least.

“Looks like you got the shit kicked out of you. How can you protect my love when you can’t even defend yourself?”. Gojo notices the flash of resilience that courses over the man’s eyes at the mention of “my love” and becomes offended by such audacious criticism.

Orao steps back.

“Didn’t like that huh? Are you trying to fuck my love?”, Gojo’s voice comes off as vile and repugnant, the jealousy swarming and exuding from his vocal cords. He’s in the perfect mood for a fight.

Right as he’s about to verbally defend himself, Gojo pins Orao against the door and seethes, “Let me hear of you stepping out of line in the slightest. I already do not fucking like you. My love does not need you and I will not hesitate to slice you from sack to sternum to see if your blood is as cancerous as your energy.”. Satoru’s fangs peer past his lips, his instincts driving him towards making good on his word right then and there. This man’s very existence violates Gojo in a manner he can’t currently grasp but it leaves him progressively irritated regardless. Something is guiding him to murder.

“Leave him, we have more important matters to attend to…”, Choso says this but is honestly thrilled to know that Orao will certainly have to walk on eggshells and live his own little horror. He knew he could count on Satoru.

“They don’t even know he’s arrived yet…”, Gojo’s frightening eyes linger on the door but then return to Orao, “Who’s to say you ever did?”, figuratively cornering him even more. ‘I may not have a choice but to fight and run…’, the miserable realization being had once he senses all the horrific tales about this man must be true as well.

Choso lets this play out longer than he should, folding his arms while eating up the pathetic behavior translating through Orao’s quaking. ‘And they say you can’t have favorites amongst offspring.’, he smiles to himself while basking in the fact that Satoru Gojo will also come to be perfected very soon, those two-tones eyes are proof. Choso becomes lost in joy until a cold chill severs his train of thought. Quickly, he states, “Toji will keep a very close eye on him, he too disagrees with his being here. Let’s go, Satoru.”. Too much time almost passed, too much fear was nearly instilled. He can’t afford to let Orao chicken out.

“Cunt.”, Gojo spits at the man’s shoes and snarls before finally backing away. He senses something within the bodyguard that could allude to something greater, he at least is certain that this guy is no ordinary wielder of cursed energy. Spinning on his heel to follow Choso, Gojo warns, “Yeah, Toji would bite out your throat with ease…”, snickering antagonistically, “…and so would my love.”.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I still can’t believe it!”, Naoya drops to his knees to place a barrage of kisses on the tiny mound growing inside of her, “First Cho’s hair and then this! How long was I out for?!”. He looks up to Elska and Toji but away when he hears her say, “Only one night.”. He shakes his head in skepticism but is unable to be troubled by the details as their baby has become tangible, not a mere image. Naoya stands up and deeply kisses Elska, hooking her waist to hold her close and the side of her neck to simply make contact with her skin. When their tongues collide, his brow folds and low hum reverberates from the bottom of his heart, singing to her in a way that can only express his adoration.

Elska becomes consumed with his intensified touch, the way his glowing half lidded eyes rest on her while their lips are pressed together and part. She can already feel him getting hard and this brings her excitement but not only because she’s about to experience him. Naoya’s had to go through so many trials because of things she’s done…so many. What exceeds her ability to understand though is his ability to love her no matter what. His name slips past her lips when his fangs sink into her neck.

Toji examines the two while she’s brought to a mess, his own pants tightening as well. He groans wantonly as he puts a foot forward, brushing a palm across the aching girth throbbing in polyester chains. He’d only had a small amount when Gojo fed him before so this is looking like the perfect opportunity to add to her pleasure and get his fill. It feels like it’s been an eternity.

Elska becomes aware of larger, heavier hands gracing her body and leans her weight against Toji as he joins them. His thick fingers brush aside the hair blocking the junction of her shoulder of the opposite side, causing her to brace herself ecstasy.

Naoya adjusts his stance when he notices Toji’s arm wrap around the front of her. He closes his eyes and continues to feed while Toji’s hand begins rubbing circles through her shorts. It only makes Naoya more aroused these days however since he’s grown accustomed to how much she loves being trapped between them. Her flavor always accentuates when she’s reduced to a puddle like this and it’s potency is so exhilarating to him. He’s thoughts become more innocent when the budding plant appears and displays the growth of thorny vines that anchor it into its surroundings. To Naoya, this is symbolic for its resilience and nothing could please him more. Elska moans into a breathless gasp and then her flavor restructures into a vibrant lust. When Naoya unlatches his fangs to close her wounds, a devious grin forms when he observes how riled up his cousin get while he feeds. Her lips part with overwhelmed eyes but the Zenin merely bites his lip before hoisting her up around his waist.

Toji dips Elska back against him, stabilizing them all as her legs wrap around Naoya. This added height makes feeding easier for him and judging by the hint of the scent trickling from her, this is exactly what she wants.

“Yea, baby?”, Naoya teases as he motions her hips to drag her essence along his traditional attire, wishing to wear nothing more but her, herself. He leans his face into her breasts, tending to her right nipple with the mastery of his tongue while simultaneously fumbling for the slot in his pants to free his agonizing member. Once he’s gripping his base, he chuckles seductively and drags it against her dampened shorts until it springs up with agility.

Elska expects her prince to put his sword to use but he instead drops back to his knees and supports her thighs with his shoulders. She’s now suspended in the air as her beloved drinks and Naoya feasts, the conversion of their gifted sensations cancelling out any solid thoughts.

Toji opens his eyes enough to witness his cousin’s oral exploits and groans to the possibility of taking her in the way they’ve only just explored. He wants every part of her, to love every single inch of space her body occupies. He removes his teeth, brushes her puncture closed and brazenly states, “We’re going to open you up, doll…”, sealing his threat with a blood-mixed kiss to her temple. She whimpers to his words but turns her head towards them to share in a salacious meeting of the lips.

Orao has finally made it inside but now he’s more aroused than afraid. He recognizes that pretty little voice and comprehends that one of her turned must having their way. Yet another door blockades him from finally laying eyes on Elska and left to wonder how much he can take. He’s aware of the trance turned fall into once engaged so he’s pretty sure he’ll go unnoticed if he hangs around for a bit. With his ear pressed to the door, he discovers the telling sound of sloppy felacio. “Mmmmm…”, he hums with his eyes closed so he can try and imagine what is being obscured from his vision. Her gagging ceases as two different voices give praise, one of which being baritone, ‘Oh? So, there’s more than one in there…’. His curiosity gets the better of him when he hears the deep voice say, “Naughty princess.’, and slyly turns the knob to simply earn a peek.

“I’ll go slow…”, Toji assures as Elska sinks into his lap, her back against his chest. He cant help but rub her thighs as she gradually accepts a little more of him, his length twitching as the tip of his head vanishes. He sighs deeply, ravenously, tilting his forehead into her hair while feeling her rear take him in.

“I’m fine!”, she whimpers while giving herself to her beloved in the shameless way he yearned for. Naoya stares back at them both, eyeing her unattended folds while pumping himself with a tightened fist. He lines up once she’s completely settled over Toji and whispers, “Again, you’re going down, baby.”.

((Thank you for reading!!! ))

Next Chapter >>

Chapter List

Tagging: @syynnaaah @angelofthorr @itstackytime @animemenrbettr

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut #Naoya Zenin #toji fushiguro #nanami kento #gojo satoru #jjk choso #shoko ieiri #Nanami smut #Toji smut #Naoya smut #enemies to lovers #friends to lovers #Elska oda #Titer clan

[bloodredx]

Day 29: Excuse

Her grip on his wrist was tight, and it pained Bones’s heart to attempt to free himself from it. The words still left his lips with his usual vigor, but his heart wasn’t in it. “Doll, I can’t stay.”

“Where are you going? What could you possibly have to do at this hour?” Her brows furrowed with disbelief. To her credit, it was a valid question. It was just past 3 in the morning, anyone else would be asleep. He really ought to be asleep himself, the weight of weariness pulling at the sides of his mind. But his cursed duty called. The old bird that constantly crowed in his mind had beckoned. Another night, another graveyard, another person chasing either immortality or something equally as stupid. He couldn’t tell her that. The god had forbidden it and even if he wanted to, and most nights he desperately wanted to spill his guts about everything that had happened to him, he couldn’t. His lips stopped moving, and a sensation of pain shocked through his nerves. He was rendered useless.

So he did what he always did, and put on a smile, kissing the back of the hand that refused to let him go. “Darling, I realized there’s somethin’ I need to take care of. I’ll just scoot over there, scoot on back. It shouldn’t take too long.”

“But where? Why now.”

Because I probably gotta hurt someone real good. “It has to do with a project I’ve got goin’ on down in Reedsdale.” I don’t have a choice. “I forgot ‘bout it, so I’mma take of it now. It’s urgent, gotta timer on these things.”

Serena barred her teeth for a half second, wresting her lips back into a normal frown. “I don’t have many nights off, Bones. I should like to spend them with you when you are here.”

“I know, darlin’. I know.” I don’t want to go. “But I’ll make it up to you.” I always try to.

She released the tension on his wrist. Serena knew all too well you can’t keep a mage contained if they didn’t want to be somewhere. “I’d like to see how. I’ll hold you too that.”

A hint of guilt flashed over his face. Pulling her close, he kissed her gently on the lips and lingered there as long as he dared to. “I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

Stepping back, Bones slipped through the door to her office, tapping a rune he had placed there so long ago. As he opened the door, there was a flash of bright, purple light enveloping the room. And he was gone. Serena crossed her arms in response to the silence. She knew he was lying. That went without saying, but her mind twisted to find the reason as to why. That mages had many projects they couldn’t talk about was a given. It was their nature to indulge in secrets. And it was hers to be curious about them. Though she knew better than to ask or try to follow. They both had their secrets, her much more than him, and it would be wiser for each to keep their own matters private for now. He certainly didn’t need to know where she got her blood from when he was on long sojourns, so perhaps I was fair to let Bones keep this secret. Still, there was something else in the undertow of it that picked at the back of her brain with the standard omen of slight disaster. But perhaps that was the nearest equivalent of love and concern she could muster in her corpse. The Lady followed his steps to the door, allowing her fingers to trace the pattern he had made in the wood. No matter what, she wished he’d keep true and come back to her soon.

(OC-tober prompts by @oc-tober2023 can be found here.)

#bones #mage #necromancer #witch #lad serena #vampire #prompt #oc tober #oc-tober #oc-tober 2023 #bloodredx writes #excuse #writers on tumblr

[cagcd]

The urge to stare at the movie star itched at the back of her mind, but Sonya refused to yield to it. She knew what Johnny Cage looked like from most angles just from having to suffer his presence, though whether or not it was actually all that bad was up for debate. Try as she might, Sonya couldn't deny the fact that she was beginning to not mind--no, enjoy being in the charismatic man's presence. She couldn't deny it... but that didn't mean she had to like it.  "What now, Cage?" Quick snap to annoyed tone and she turned her head to look at him, mirrored sunglasses obscuring how she couldn't help but to, very briefly, check him out while she waited for a response.

      It's almost a reflex by now,   the way he his whole demeanour would light up upon seeing the soldier,   as though he hadn't seen her for days on end when their joined fight against outworld's threats caused them to meet more times than she would have liked them to.   She had often                   if not always,   shut him down,   rendered his best lines useless and left him where he stood in attempt to resist the very urge to slap him across his smug face,   an outcome he wouldn't mind so much,   as long as it meant she was listening to him.   He may be relentless,   but still,   in his own way,   sensible,   if another girl hadn't showed that much interest in him he would have let his flirting to remain on a surface level.   But Sonya was diffrent,   he hadn't been so enchanted by someone as much as her before,   quite the reverse of what was intended,   when all he ever did was try and charm her instead.   It was never affective,   always getting on her nerves than to bring out a smile or a genuine laugh,   [   or so it seemed to him.   ]

   Yet,   his fascination with her wasn't a feeling he could push aside so easily,   he had never known it was possible to never have a fill of someone before,   and her constant refusal only added to it,   he would subdue it if they could just be friends at the very least,   but with his extravagance and over the top personality,   he had unintentionally made it a lot more harder than it should be.   She's alone,   with neither Jax at her side or a heavy pile of reports to go over                 not that he wouldn't jump in to talk to her when she wasn't occupied with either one,   he's quick to seize the opportunity and walk up to her like a golden retriever that was too energetic to be left alone.   She looked lovely,   even lovelier with that crease between her eyebrows as she glares at him,   he really didn't know how to take a hint if it hit him flat on the face.

        ❛❛   You looked lonely,   I thought you could use some eye candy.   ❜❜        he responds smoothly,   tilting his sunglasses to wink at her,   a cheeky smile upon his lips at the delivery,   even wider when her annoyance is expected to turn into her usual disgust.        ❛❛   Okey,   Okey,   listen                ❜❜        he chuckled and moved to stand in front of her in case she wanted to avoid him again.        ❛❛   Knowing you,   you probably didn't have a bite to eat all day,   so how 'bout I buy you lunch ?   I'll keep my mouth   ...   moderately shut.   ❜❜

@blxdc // notice him senpai ...

#blxdc #☆.⠀⠀⠀here's johnny⠀⠀⠀⎯⎯⎯⠀⠀⠀⠀(⠀answered !⠀) #// johnny internally: wow Sonya is the most beautiful woman I had ever met #// johnny externally: *complements himself instead* #// HE DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO BE NORMAL OKEY #// especially around her *cough cough*

[maivalkov]

The present day brings meetings, paperwork, and an inbox Antonio can't clear. Amidst it all old habits die hard, and he comes to learn that might be a good thing. T+| 1228 words | read below or on AO3

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 When a young man comes rushing towards Antonio prior to a meeting, the latter braces himself and dons a mask; a smile of I know what you’re going to say, but I’ll pretend it’s the first time I’ve heard it. He watches the other bend -hands to knees, breaths shaky- and musters the authority people expect of his status.

“S-Sir!”

“Antonio is fine.”

The words are a weight from the young man’s shoulders. He straightens and pats down his plain office garb. “Antonio,” he nods respectfully, “I have bad news. Portugal is missing.”

Antonio furrows brows to feign bewilderment, whilst his innards writhe in sheer dismay.

Portugal -João to those unfortunate enough to know him better- goes missing at least once a week. It’s something the old bastard does well, too well in fact, and one would’ve thought that come the 21st century he’d have grown out of such habits. To Antonio’s constant grief he has not, and today brings another bout of sighing and tension. It means pandering to the poor soul tasked to aid João (aka keep an eye on him) and Antonio fights the rising urge to shout.

The young man is innocent. Early twenties at best. No doubt starting in his career as well. It won’t do to chew off his head. Instead Antonio brings a hand to his chin, fakes contemplation, and asks: “where have you looked?”

“Everywhere.”

Impossible. Space is too far away and- Antonio, be kind. A certain someone’s sarcasm is beginning to stick. Antonio counts inside his head, one to five, enough of a pause to calm his temper, but not so long that it worries the young man. The nearby window frames blue, more blue. The skies, the waves, the horizon. The view sufficiently improves Antonio’s mood.

“Have you tried the beach?”

“The beach?”

He’ll take that as a no. “The beach,” Antonio echoes, “is the place he’ll likely be.”

“Oh.” Astonishment is ripe in the response, teetering close to the edge of disbelief. “Oh well I- uh, in that case I’d best head off!”

“I’ll go,” Antonio insists. It’s the least he can do for the troubled young man. “I’ll call when we’re on our way back.” ~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 Antonio sighs at such length and frequency that he’s sure his weary lungs might collapse. They’ll force their last breath, declare I’m done! and render Antonio a useless heap. Fortunately they persevere; Antonio’s mind auto-pilots en route for the sake of his sanity, and as his feet dip into sand and spy a silhouette ahead, he drinks in the comfort of knowing he was right.

“I thought I’d find you here.” Antonio approaches the nuisance sat upon the beach. Knees are drawn to João's chest, and long hair tousled by the salty wind. “Ready for work I see.”

João’s bare toes wiggle in the sand. A shameless grin plays across his face. “Olá Espanha, what a nice surprise.”

“Is it?”

“Come now,” João pats the spot beside him, “join me.”

“Explain why you’re not at work.”

“Business first, hm?” João clicks his tongue, and prefers to return his attention to the waves. “Well, if you really must know, I fancied courting the ocean before our meeting.”

Antonio stares, blank faced. “It starts in half an hour.”

“And I’ve been seducing the waters for countless centuries. What’s half an hour more in the face of that?”

“João.”

João sighs, not unlike Antonio, and throws in an eye roll to complete the act. “I see you’re determined to drag me back.”

“We have duties.”

“We always do,” João returns, “but you know what? The fun is gone nowadays. We can’t do things like we used to, settle a debate the same way we used to.”

“You mean with a sword?” Antonio deadpans, deciding to sit at last. “I agree it was more... persuasive, back in those days, but at the same time I like what we have now.” He eyes João up and down, spying the twitch of a nose. A sign of sulking. “I prefer the João who can’t stab me when he’s in a bad mood.”

“Yeah well-” João’s head whips round “-I prefer the Antonio who leaves me alone on the beach. The ocean has always treated me well, and yet you deny me of her presence for meetings!”

“The ocean will end you, someday.”

“I hope she does.”

Antonio does not. Even in jest it leaves an unwanted taste, and João’s laugh fails to soften the blow. He claps a hand to Antonio’s shoulder. Gives a squeeze; a wordless don’t worry.

“I wouldn’t leave you,” João promises. “But you have to admit she’s a keeper.”

“The ocean?”

João hums. “If -and only if- it were to kill me, I know it wouldn’t be out of greed or spite. The water only takes the unfortunate or foolish, and in that respect it’s quite fair, don’t you think?”

In a way, João is right. It’s a refreshing change from the assassination attempts of old; the constant threat on their lives for being what they are. “Some people don’t get us,” Antonio resigns himself to another sigh. “And to be honest, I don’t get us either. Why are we like this?”

“Still here, to this very day?”

“Yeah. Aren’t we the ones being unfair?”

“Probably,” João replies. “Why else d’you think I hate meetings? We’re a prize to people now as we always have been, perhaps even more so given our age. They want inside our heads, Toninho, and I don’t feel like playing their games.”

“I see.”

It’s not a lie. From that perspective Antonio understands, on various levels, why João chooses to disappear. In the face of the sea spray and calm he can forget the rigid schedules. Like this he can simply exist, devoid of the stress and unwanted sycophants.

“Do you want to skip?” Antonio offers. “I’ll say I couldn’t find you.”

“Nah, best not.” João surrenders, drawing shapes into the sand with an index finger. “S’just the good old Iberian get together right? The ‘here’s what we’re doing’ monotony.”

“Yes and no.” Antonio’s shoulders bunch up into a shrug. “There’s that meeting first, and then the guest visit.”

“You what?”

Of course he’s forgotten. Antonio pulls a face. “I’ve got the Turkish Ambassador coming for lunch.”

Interest piques. João turns. “With or without Turkey himself?”

“With.”

“Well why didn’t you say so?” João wipes the sand from his knees and gets up, proceeding to retrieve his socks and shoes. “I would’ve put my best underwear on today had I known!”

“I hope you’re joking.”

João winks. “Yes and no.”

That audacity is also his strength, and something Antonio would never change. “What about your precious ocean?” he teases. “Won’t she get jealous?”

A good point. João stops to stare. It lasts all of five seconds before he’s back to getting himself in order, and beckoning Antonio to do the same. “She’ll understand, now let’s go.”

“You owe that assistant an apology when we return.”

“Yes, yes.”

“And a beer for me.” Antonio adds, soon following João towards the streets. “Compensation for my time.”

“Anything else?” João mocks.

“Just one thing.”

“Go on.”

Antonio peers back towards the sea. He bids it a silent, private goodbye, and makes a mental note to return someday. “Next time you plan on escaping, let me know so I can come too.”

#hws spain #hws portugal #portxocean #it's a recognised port ship right #anyway here's a little offering #small enough to go here too so hopefully it looks alright #we'll find out lol #nothing like trial and error #anyway enjoy #it's on ao3 too in case you prefer it that way

[hcark]

(daniel henney, he/him, dreamshade) to KANG HANEUL, the whole world looks like an open page. with a leap of faith, their ability of VERTIGO INDUCEMENT grows a little stronger.  they are a LEVIATHAN shade aligned to NO ONE. for TWO HUNDRED AND FOUR years, they have survived a world of magic with both their AMBITION and IMPULSION. they work as a 'DEEP SEA DIVER' & LOAN 'SHARK' / RESTAURANT OWNER, but if they could change their fate, they’d want to FIND EXCITEMENT IN LIFE AGAIN. 

DOSSIER .

His birth hadn't been planned in the slightest, but his mother raised him with great care and surprising diligence. Most of his childhood was under heavy supervision since he wasn't like his mother. Not completely at least. There was always the room for something different and odd to occur given who his father was, and his mother's suspicions ended up being correct. The manifestation of his vertigo based abilities came when he reached adulthood. He was what one would consider a 'late bloomer', but he proved to be very efficient with harnessing the new powers he possessed.

Haneul spent a lot of time pretending to be one with the land dwellers, but not in a traditional sense. No, he would blend in among the people that had adept sea legs and a knack for navigating unrelenting waves. Pirates, nondescript sailors, and the like — all were joined under his cleverly formed disguise. He would mingle among them for weeks, even months, as he altered the course of the ship. It took a lot of time, practice and patience for him to do so, but it wasn't an impossible task when he was able to influence people through carefully timed bouts of dizziness and dulcet charm.

He'd always lead them to areas plagued with strong storms to render the ship useless in the merciless currents. It’d always send the crew into a panic whenever the ship capsized or crashed into natural structures. Then Haneul would call upon a cluster of similar appetites to feast. A few of the crew's souls would be plucked and eaten en route, but Haneul was always sure to save enough for those that resided with his mother.

A century was spent in such a manner; living grand and large with a full belly and endless treasures. Yet the thrill of it all grew less and less with time. Haneul stopped living among his targets as frequently, and chose to bide his time until a crew caught his interest. And when said crew docked on the nearby sandy shore.. well, he repeated the process once again. Except the chain of events that followed broke past the norm. See, the crew he had integrated with weren't mundane sailors. They were skilled hunters under the guise of normies, and they played him like a fool to a fiddle.

Haneul had managed to cut their numbers by one before someone caught on. Said someone just so happened to be his next target. He might have gotten away with the consumption of the other's soul if it hadn't been for the enchanted dagger that ended up in the leviathan’s gut. Surprised, but not foolish enough to be blinded by hunger, Haneul went overboard with the promise to visit that particular hunter in the future. In the meantime, he opened up his own pub; one that welcomes the shades and humans alike. So long as there isn't any fighting involved, that is.

MISC. INFO .

When life was good — when things were in it’s prime, his ego grew beyond measure. It wasn't until he drunkenly challenged a beast of the skies did he humble himself. Not until he’d been struck by lightning and nearly died in the waves did he reconsider his pride and greed.

Because of the above, Haneul has several scars along the torso and arms, Lichtenberg figure along back & burn marks around lower neck / clavicle. Metal accessories had been seared onto his skin when he kissed all that thunder. Thus, explains the peculiar shape of the scar around the lower neck / clavicle. Also suffers from occasional pain in back / tremors in arms (mainly his left).

Also because of nearly being smoted, he’s deaf in left ear but able to read lips relatively well ( also why he’s so boisterous ).

He’s fluent in Korean, English, ASL / KSL.

Since he’s a creature of the sea, it’s easier for Haneul to dehydrate on land. So to remedy this, he often takes long soaks in baths ( and does like to have some company too — cute lil’ date night or whatever ).

He also runs a little cold blooded! Likes to soak up the sun and warmth whenever. Yes, he has cold hands and feet — sorry to anyone that shares a bed with him. 

Does, in fact, have two entire children. They’re all grown now — one’s still a hellion and thrives on mischief, the other’s more calm, cool, and collected. Both were with separate lovers that he still keeps close contact with.  

CONNECTIONS.

You know of me? Well, of course you do! ( 0/? ) — Entrepreneur of an infamous sea themed pub chain, dweller of the deepest deep sea treasure / artifact retrieval, bountiful lender of gems, dollar phils, and more riches — his reputation has the tendency to proceed him. Many come to him for one reason or another; be it for business, after hour rendezvous, or one of those quickly-sparked friendships he’s uncannily good at. 

Father, may I? ( 0/?) — So, like, yeah, he has two children of his own, but he’s just so generous ( with stolen riches ) that he pretty much splurges on friends, family.. pseudo kids he picked up along the way that needed a father figure ( and strictly that ). Need money for really expensive classes? Yeah, sure! Need funding for some entrepreneurial start? Sure, definitely! In need of donations? Oh, say less!

Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. ( 0/? ) — Most would call him a harlot, jezebel, etc. but Haneul just goes with the flow. If someone’s interesting and attractive then they should be treated as such! Beauty deserves to be praised so who’s he to not indulge? He’s loose as a goose and fairly noncommittal until someone can pin his attention only on them. 

Villainous delights ( 0/5 ) — Boy, oh boy. That one crew might’ve gotten away, but they’re definitely not forgotten. While Haneul might not be hellbound on finding each surviving crewmember, he is going to find them all one day to repay their slipperiness with a one way ticket to a watery grave. Bonus points for the person that stabbed him. He’s got an especially big crush grudge with that one. 

#cag: intro #* & kang haneul — convo . #* & kang haneul — inspo . #* & kang haneul — headcanon . #// writing this was so ridiculous jfc

[candleshopmenace]

no reason to stay [a good reason to go] | day five: running out of air

SUMMARY

If Denki is being honest, this isn’t really how he was expecting to go out. He doesn’t actually know how he expected to go out, but it sure as Hell wasn’t like this, this being stuck under the surface of a lake in the middle of nowhere, Quirk rendered useless by the fact that he’s surrounded with water, with his friends’ voices yelling in his ear. 

—

Kaminari Denki closes his eyes and breathes in deep.

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[ao3 link]

[discord server]

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If Denki is being honest - which he is most of the time, contrary to popular belief - then this isn’t really how he was expecting to go out. He doesn’t actually know how he expected to go out, but it sure as Hell wasn’t like this, this being stuck under the surface of a lake in the middle of nowhere, Quirk rendered useless by the fact that he’s surrounded with water, with his friends’ voices yelling in his ear. 

Now that he thinks about it, though - and he’s trying hard to not think about it, but that kind of thing is easier said than done, especially when one has nearly nothing to think about except for the fact that they’re going to die, alone, because of their own Goddamn actions - it's kind of fitting. Kind of ridiculous. Kind of a little bit of everything, terror and sadness and dark humor, all mixed into one. 

I’m going to die, Denki thinks, and he feels strangely calm about it. I’m going to die, miles away from everyone I have ever cared about. I’m going to die.

Over the comms, someone, probably Bakugou, snaps in a voice crackly with static, “Oi, dumbass! Are you there?”

Denki almost wants to laugh. Yeah, he wants to say, just to hear Bakugou’s reaction, I’m here, but probably not for very long. 

His lungs are already starting to burn. 

He’s sinking like a stone, and, if he squints, he can just make out the shadowy silhouette of the villain he was supposed to be fighting. Maybe it's a good thing that he’s going to die, if only so that he doesn’t have to bear the humiliation of watching Bakugou or Kirishima being able to defeat someone that he couldn’t. He despises them sometimes, for being so good at everything he’s not. That’s a shit way of thinking, and fucking selfish, but it doesn’t make it any less true. 

“Denki!” and it's a different voice, sharp and panicked, “Where are you?”

There’s a harsh bout of feedback as someone clears their throat. “Didn’t he go after that villain?” Sero asks, and he must be in the middle of running or fighting or something because he sounds out of breath. “The one with the density Quirk?”

“Density Quirk?” Ashido echoes, and there’s the distinct sound of metal crumpling. “So, like, he can make things super heavy?”

“Or super light,” Kyoka muses. “Why did Denki go after him?”

And that is the question, isn’t it?

Denki remembers reading somewhere that toddlers couldn’t be left alone in a bathtub because their heads were giant in proportion to their bodies, and they couldn’t really support themselves properly. It was like what happens when you flip a beetle onto its back, it's not able to get right-side up without help. So, you’re not supposed to leave a toddler alone in a bathtub, because if they lean forward they won’t be able to sit back up. Their head will just keep getting lower and lower until it's in the water, and they will drown. If you leave them in there for more than six minutes, it's game over, the kid’s done for. They won’t recover. And Denki isn’t a baby, he’s a fucking third-year in Yuuei, but he feels just as fucking helpless. 

If he talks, he drowns. 

If he takes a breath, he drowns. 

All because of a stupid fucking disagreement, he’s going to die.

“That might be my fault,” Sero says, but Denki can barely even hear him over the rush of blood in his ears. 

He’s still sinking, or maybe that’s purely psychological, because it feels like he’s been in the water for forever and the lake can’t possibly be that deep. 

Maybe he’s already dead. 

Maybe he’s a ghost. 

“The Hell do you mean, it's your fault?” It's Bakugou again, and he sounds angry, again, but there’s an undercurrent of worry there that makes Denki’s throat burn in a way that has nothing at all to do with a lack of air. “What the fuck did you say to him, Sero?” And that’s another thing that Denki’s going to miss, the fact that Bakugou has actually gotten around to calling them their names. The first time Bakugou called him Kaminari, Denki nearly had a heart attack, thinking that he’d done something wrong and was about to be straight up killed for it, but when the shock faded he’d realized that, no, Bakugou was just finally acknowledging the fact that they were friends. Or, well, verbally acknowledging it. 

Denki’s going to miss that.

Sero says, defensive, “Hey, I didn’t mean to offend him! He just took it the wrong way!”

“That’s not a fuckin’ answer, Sero.”

“Well, if you would let me speak -”

“Guys,” Kirishima cuts in, irritated. “Not the time. Sero, just tell us what happened.”

“Right, right, I know.” Sero makes a frustrated noise, accompanied by a resounding crack! that echoes over the comms, reverberating until Denki can feel it all the way down to his bones. “So I noticed that the density guy was sneaking away, right, and Denki wanted to go after him. And I was like, No, let someone else handle it, he’s pretty powerful, and I guess that he thought that I was saying that he wouldn’t be able to take him down? And I didn’t mean it like that, it's just -”

There’s a rustling sound, and then Ashido’s voice pops back into existence, far too loud, “Hanta, what direction did the density guy go?” 

“I don’t fucking know!” And that’s a fact that most people don’t pick up about Sero - aside from Bakugou, Sero had the worst temper in their entire friend group. He’s got a short fuse, which is something that surprised Denki when they first met. “You think I have this damn city mapped out? This is supposed to be a fucking holiday!”

“Oh, calm the Hell down, Tape-Face, she’s not asking for you to be a GPS, she just wants a general direction.” Bakugou is surprisingly good at being the voice of reason in situations like this, and it shows when he says, “Kaminari, if you can hear us, turn on your comms. I’ll track your location.”

“You can do that?” Ashido asks, incredulous. “When did that happen?”

“Same time I got Hatsume to make them waterproof. Not falling for another Deku trap.” Bakugou huffs a breath at the memory of when Midoriya got lost in an unfamiliar city back in their second year. Denki remembers that Bakugou had been pissed about that for an entire month afterwards, in which he refused to call Midoriya anything but, That Goddamned Villain Magnet. “Kaminari, can you hear me?”

Denki’s mind feels fuzzy, like he’s made of static and air, like he’s about to float away, but his body does feel less heavy now. Maybe the Quirk is, like, distance based? That’d make sense. Still, it takes a huge amount of effort to wrench his arm upwards, makes his chest feel like it's about to explode. He slams a hand against the comm in his ear, wincing on impact, and there’s a familiar bzzt! noise as the microphone clicks on. 

“Jesus Christ,” Bakugou mutters. “How the Hell did you manage to get so far?”

By trying to prove a point, Denki wants to say. I tried to show that I could take down a villain by myself, and look where it got me. Look where it fucking got me. 

He doesn’t answer, obviously, because he can’t, and when Bakugou speaks again he sounds halfway between irritated and concerned. “Kaminari? Talk to me, Chargebolt.” There’s a sound in the background, the rhythmic thumping of feet hitting the ground, and Denki realizes that Bakugou is running.

Denki’s entire body is somehow numb and freezing at the same time, and he feels like there’s ice crawling over his skin. His throat aches like a fucking bitch. 

Towards the end of last year, a retired Pro Hero had come in and shown them all how to survive an interrogation. She had shoved Denki’s head into a bucket of water, all the while instructing him to seal his lips and close his eyes and hold onto a single image, something important, something precious, and Denki had always thought about his friends. He pictured them all together, acting - for once - like actual kids their age were supposed to, smiling, laughing, joking around, none of the defensive seriousness that they had all adopted before their first year was even over. 

This feels a lot like that, except Denki knows that there’s no one waiting to pull him out of the water if it goes too far.

“Denki?” It's Bakugou again, and Denki wonders, dimly, as to why he hasn’t heard from his other friends in a while. “I don’t know what’s going on, but stay awake. I’m almost there.”

Drifting in the water like this and cold inside and out, Denki can almost pretend that none of this is happening. That he’s not as useless as he thinks. That he’s not helpless, holding his breath and waiting for Bakugou to come save him, a knight in shining armor swooping in to rescue a damsel in distress. 

If this is what death feels like, pain and then nothing but eternal white noise, then it makes him wonder if living is really worth it. And he’s heavy, so heavy, like the Quirk has been reactivated and now all he needs to do is wait for his lungs to collapse.

He can’t give up. He’s so close to being a hero, a real hero, and isn’t that all that he’s ever wanted? Isn’t that everything he’s dreamed of? To be a hero, someone that kids could look up to, someone that always did the right thing. And so he can’t give up, because he’s a hero, and heroes never break. Isn’t this what a hero would do? Stay strong like this? Be brave like this? But, still, the urge to just let himself float and float and float is so strong that he can taste it, metal in his mouth.

There’s a splashing noise above him, deafening as the sound of the sky cracking open, just as he closes his eyes and breathes in deep.

#whumptober2022 #no.5 #running out of air #fic #boku no hero academia #kaminari denki #nitro whumptober 2022

[kansaisdragon]

@sixthxchairman asked:

Despite being kidnapped, tied up, and rendered effectively useless to any allies that would miss him, Daigo Dojima still maintained all of his infamous bravado. He had already proven to be a pain to handle, having bitten two men and head - butted a third that got too close. The brawler glared at Ryuji, hackles still raised even though his skull felt fit to burst after his last display. Not the brightest move he had ever made, but his victim at least would have a black eye for a while from the hit.

Daigo struggled against the bindings briefly. He seemed to have no interest in trying to run ; in fact, he appeared to be intent on breaking the rope in Ryuji's direction. Scrapping with the Dragon again was evidently more important than trying to escape.

"When I get out of this, I am going to wreck your shit," Daigo swore. "FUCKING FIGHT ME ALREADY, GODA." He raised his voice as he spoke, practically yelling with as much as his dry throat could muster by the end.

THE DRAGON DENYING A FIGHT WAS NEAR UNHEARD OF. Quite frankly, he wanted nothing more than a good fight; he was ITCHING for the satisfaction of a challenging win ⸺ it’d been his main motivator behind kidnapping the scrappy brawler, after all. Without a shadow of a doubt, were he to undo Daigo’s bindings and let him have free reign, the first thing he would’ve done was target Ryuji. 

The issue lied in the fact that Daigo wasn’t who Ryuji wanted that battle from. Oh no. As far as Ryuji was concerned, he’d won his previous bouts with the brawler with too much ease. It hadn’t been satisfying enough to warrant another go ⸺ DAIGO wasn’t even close to his end game.

What he wanted above all else was a fight with the renowned Dragon of Dojima.

That being said . . . With all the trouble Daigo had given them in the few hours he’d been help captive, he was starting to wonder if it was worth the hassle. The first guy getting bitten was a little funny, admittedly, but after the second ( coupled with all the damn screaming ), a migraine was starting to develop. 

         ❝ ⸺ Will ya just shut UP!? ❞ Ryuji snarled as he turned his head to regard the bed from over his shoulder, marred lips curled into a deep grimace.  ❝ Told ya ALREADY, y’ain’t the one I wanna fight! Keep that shit up and I’ll make ya can it. ❞

#sixthxchairman #》✱ ⸺ ( IC .ᐟ ) #》✱ ⸺ ( ASKS .ᐟ ) #love the detail of him biting and headbutting a bunch of go-ryu goons #》✱ ⸺ ( QUEUE .ᐟ )