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obsessivevoidkitten · 11 months

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To Reject a Vampire

Male Vampire Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Non-con, vampire, biting, blood drinking, depressed reader, mind control, smut, blowjob, forced imprisonment, dead dove: do not eat, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 3.4k (Vampire comm that took me way too long.)

You were walking back home late one night with your friend, Jaime. You had known each other since childhood and remained inseparable. In fact, the two of you even lived right next door to one another. He had left for college for some years, but had returned as soon as he had become a registered nurse. The two of you often hung out when you were both off work and that sometimes led to walking to the gas station a couple blocks down the road to grab some snacks. You were both laughing from recounting a particularly funny memory you both shared when the sounds of laughter and chatter between the two of you suddenly died down into silence before he spoke. "Hey… there's something I wanted to ask you…" Oh no. Not again… "Have you maybe reconsidered us dating? I know you said no before but-" This was an ongoing problem with Jaime, the only thing really marring an otherwise near perfect friendship. He kept persistently asking you out. This had been going on for years now and your frustration finally got the better of you, making you snap. "NO!" You yelled interrupting him, "NO! NO! NO! NO! NOOOOO!!! It isn't happening! I am totally and completely uninterested in having any type of non-platonic relationship with ANYONE! Stop. Asking. It is NEVER going to happen. Not in this world or the next. Not in any way, shape, form, nor fashion! Get. It. Through. Your. Thick. Skull." You were panting after your outburst. A few seconds passed and you realized how harsh you had been as his face went from stunned silence to utter broken despair. You could practically hear his heart shatter. He often got a bit dejected when you had rejected him in the past, but this time you were much more harsh. With a sniff he started sobbing and running off towards home, leaving you to walk home alone in the quiet night. Sighing you slowly trudged home, sure that Jaime just needed to sulk for a few days before your friendship resumed with the both of you pretending like this awkward episode never happened. And, more than likely, that is just exactly what would have happened. Had a chance encounter on his way home not irreversibly changed Jaime forever. And not for the better. As Jaime was running home his tear filled eyes blinded him to the danger that was stalking him from the shadows. A sneaky predator who loved the taste tormenting his prey imparted, and how much sweeter when his meal was already flavored with the sweet marinade of sorrow and heartbreak? Suddenly Jaime was tackled into a dark alley that he was passing, the vampire easily dragging him back into the void where no eyes could pierce, firmly clasping his hand over Jaime's mouth to keep him quiet. The unknown assailant put his nose into the crook of Jaime's neck and inhaled deeply, savoring the mouthwatering scents of all the negative emotions Jaime had been experiencing that night. The current one being abject terror as the figure behind him didn't even acknowledge his vain attempts at struggling. "I'd tell you not to struggle, but it is really much more fun when you do," mused a deep man's voice. Jaime, whose first thought was that he was getting mugged, now thought that he was going to be raped as his attacker licked and kissed his neck in the same manner one's lover would. And he flailed all the more vigorously. Unperturbed, the man now violated Jaime in an altogether different and unexpected manner. Sinking long fangs easily into the soft flesh of his neck before sucking him nearly dry. It was amazing how thoroughly a vampire could drain a victim. Jaime died, but his murderer was not quite done with him. He loved sowing discord and chaos in any way that he could manage it, and having seen the spectacle early of you rejecting his victim he knew there was ruination and mayhem to be had by creating a fresh, unguided, love-sick vampire. So he bit open his wrist a bit and let the blood flow into the parted lips of our dear departed Jaime. Within an hour he would no longer be so dear nor so departed. And the unknown vampire stepped into the shadows and was never seen there again, happy with his meal and the knowledge that he had certainly derailed more than one life that night. When Jaime woke up hours later, just as the sun was rising, he had a major migraine, a sharp pain in his neck, was chilled to the bone, and felt like he was starving. His memory was spotty, he thought maybe he had been mugged, but he still had his phone and wallet on him. Maybe just assaulted by some crazy person. Whatever had happened he was alive and okay, so he shakily got to his feet, dusted himself off, and made his way home. By the time he had reanimated you had been in bed for hours. Though you hadn't really slept well. You felt so guilty for exploding on him like that. Sure, he kept asking you out, but it wasn't too often and you could have gone about rejecting him just a bit more gently. He had been really hurt, what if he didn't blow it off and resume your friendship like he usually did? After a few days had passed with no contact from him you began to get a bit more anxious, though it was still technically within the normal timeframe of when he usually started talking to you again after you turned down his advances. Still, given the way you had lashed out at him you figured that you should maybe be the one to check up on him instead. Jaime had a reason for not talking to you, what with his transition into a blood feeding immortal taking up most of his time. At first he had no idea at all what was happening to him. He felt cold and feverish and was beyond fatigued. He called off work from the first day, thinking he had a minor flu of some sort. All his senses were disorienting him. His body was adjusting to more sensitive vision, sense of smell, and even touch. The second day he felt better, but had an insatiable hunger, no matter what he ate nothing seemed to satisfy him. He ate a huge breakfast before work and at lunch he ate a lot as well. Some of his coworkers at the hospital even joked about how he was inhaling food that day. Jaime had no clue why he felt like he was starving no matter how much he ate. As someone in the medical field any number of possible causes went through his mind. Nothing really fit. A more concerning symptom was that whenever he was around a wounded patient, whenever he had to do a blood transfusion, or even just whenever he got the faintest whiff of blood his hunger flared up. His senses flared in sensitivity. He could almost have sworn he could hear the heartbeats of those near him. He realized he was craving the blood. It scared him, the thought made him nauseous. Admirably he managed to push away his quite literal blood lust for a couple days, but eventually he could fight his need for blood no longer. It was late at night at the end of his shift and he was beyond certain the coast was clear so he snuck into the storage room where the blood packs are kept and sunk his teeth into one, unknowingly growing fangs as he pierced it and sucked it dry. If the obvious signs hadn't been enough to clue him in on what he now was then innate instinctual knowledge that filled him with his first ingestion of vital human essence did. He was a vampire. A million thoughts raced through his mind, but his first priority was sating his hunger. He quickly grabbed some bags of blood and stuffed them into his coat for later before leaving for home. He was oddly excited, eager to test out what new abilities he had. A day later, when both of you were off work, you finally got a text from him asking to hang out with no mention of what had occurred between the two of you the other night. You breathed a sigh of relief, now things could go back to normal. The two of you had arranged for you to come by his house in a couple hours so the two of you could hang out, order pizza, and play video games. Just like the good old days. Things went entirely normal with no odd deviation or indication that Jaime was now a creature of the night. And it set the pace for your friendship to resume as if nothing had ever happened. Or so you thought, in the weeks since the two of you first started hanging out again Jaime had steadily been experimenting and training with his new found abilities. He had learned that he had an absurd tolerance to pain, extremely quick reflexes, and unholy strength. But, most importantly, he learned that he could compel anyone to do his bidding. He had plans to use this technique on you, but it wasn't quite perfected yet. Though every time he used it he got more and more effective. All he needed was practice and time. So while you went about life and continued your longest running friendship in blissful ignorance of what was to come he was readying himself for the day he could make you love him. When that day arrived it started like any other, you two hanging out at his place on a day when you were both off. But it definitely didn't stay that way. Jaime was at the point with his skill where he no longer even needed to issue commands verbally, he just needed good eye contact to assert his will over another being. "Hey is something wrong? Why are you staring at me so intensel-" You instantly went still and quiet. It was like you were trapped in your own body unable to do anything. When Jaime asked you if you would go out with him you wanted to say no but your lips were not your own and you said yes in a monotone voice. Jaime wore a shit-eating grin as he scooted closer to you and kissed you deeply. You were repulsed and afraid, why weren't you pushing him away, why weren't you slapping him, why were you returning the kiss? You wanted to scream and run away but you could do nothing to control your own body. Instead you wrapped your arms around him and made out with him. Jaime was thrilled, he bit your neck carefully and fed from you as you clung to him. You felt a sharp pain in your neck but could do nothing against it as he tasted your blood. For you it was hell, like a much worse and very real version of sleep paralysis. For Jaime it was heaven, he had never felt closer to you than in that moment. His beloved was finally in his arms and could do nothing to leave them. But he most certainly was not satisfied with that alone for long. Jaime carried you bridal style up to his bed. He very carefully undressed you, as if you were the most delicate doll to ever exist, and stood for a moment admiring every inch of your exposed body. You wanted to shout for help. To cover up. To run. To fight. ANYTHING but lay there under his unwavering gaze. But no matter how hard you tried to fight it you simply couldn't, you were a hostage in your mind, able to see and feel everything but do nothing. The first thing he did, after disrobing, was to attend to your sex. He touched your crouch carefully, as if afraid to hurt you. Like you might shatter at the slightest rough touch. He ran his eager hands, shaking with excitement, over every inch of you. He stroked your cheek tenderly and played with your hair, felt over your chest and thighs and hips. When he had thoroughly explored you and there were no more areas for his hands to discover he decided he needed to go deeper. The vampire took two lubed fingers and slowly worked them into you, gently prying your entrance open and stretching you to be ready for him. He savored every sensation and fold inside you, hard as a rock as he imagined his cock where his fingers were. You couldn't even cry as he violated you, you were denied even that emotional release. And this remained the case even as he slathered his cock with lube and aligned it with your entrance and made his way inside you with his slightly above average dick. Jaime was torturously slow as he "made love" with his dear partner. You just wanted this nightmare to be over, you wanted to believe that at any moment you would wake up sweating in bed like you would from any bad dream. You had to stare wide-eyed, made to take it all in, as he looked at you lovingly. He kissed you deeply, and once more you were made to comply, parting your lips so that he could move his tongue inside. Jaime happily rubbed his tongue against yours as he worked towards filling you with his hot seed. As he approached his climax he gripped your hip painfully and picked up the pace, really drilling you as deeply and as forcefully as he could, his balls slapping into you with each painful thrust. Right before he came he slowed down as much as possibly, wanting to draw out the sensation for as long as he could. Slowwwwwwly pulling out before sliding just as slowly back in, repeating this a few times before thrusting forward and emptying his balls into you as he bit the side of your neck that he left untouched earlier. You came too just as he did, your body now betraying you even further than it had already and in the most humiliating way. He drank a bit before sliding his dick out of you and kissing your cheek. "That was amazing babe! I love you so much!" And as a puppet pulled by its strings you replied, once more in monotone, "I love you too." And the illusion was shattered. It wasn't real. He may have had you, he may have even had your vocal chords, but he didn't have your emotions. And he soon learned that no matter what he tried, even though he could get you to do almost any action, he couldn't force you to love him. Jaime tried for weeks to force love for him into you, keeping you locked away in his house whenever he left for work. You tried to leave, of course, but simple orders lingered in you even when he was no longer present. You couldn't leave or get help in any way. All of your existence now amounted to was enduring his increasing frustration with being unable to make you love him interspersed with periods of anxiety while waiting for him to get home from work and torture you all over again. You were no longer aware of exactly how long you had been trapped, the days all kind of blended together. Most days he had work at the hospital and those days were all largely the same with little to no variation. Jaime would get up and make you breakfast in bed, insisting that he was trying to spoil you. You, in a mix of depression and defiance would not take a single bite and just stare at the plate that he brought to you on a tray with your favorite morning drink. Inevitably he would get frustrated, snap at you, force you to eat against your will, and slam the door as he went off to work. Then you were left alone, it was probably the only almost decent part of your day, but everything just seemed so hopeless. Inevitably the blood sucking parasite would be back and you couldn’t leave no matter how hard you tried to. At each attempt it was like someone seized your body and squeezed you into immobility until you submitted. When your “lover” got home he would fawn over you, often giving you a little gift. A small gesture you supposed was meant to somehow make you forget everything and fall helplessly in love with him. A small sweet treat, a flower, a tiny teddy bear. Anytime he tried this tactic you always ignored it or threw it across the room. Either way the result was the same. Jaime would snap, he would not even bother forcing you mentally as he grabbed your weak arms and bit painfully into your neck. “No please! I’m s-sorry!” You would cry, always regretting your action but never being able to stop yourself from denying his gifts when he offered them. And for the next part he would use his ability of compulsion to make you stop fighting. In his fury he wanted to hurt you a bit, but not TOO badly, and he enjoyed, for a moment, the fantasy that you were a willing participant. Most of the time he would then have you remove your clothing before sliding himself inside you, biting and kissing and sucking your neck as he did so, whispering how you were all his and about how much he loved you softly into your ear. Sometimes he would instead utilize your soft lips, jamming his hard cock down your throat, making you service him. The heat of your wet mouth combined with the sight of you looking up at him with his cock in your mouth was almost enough to make him blow his load immediately. You were just so beautiful. No matter the method that he chose it always ended the same. After his finished unloading into you his mind would clear and then be filled with rage as you were unable to reciprocate his love and enjoyment of the forced intimacy between the two of you. Jaime would angrily shove you aside, leaving you to clean yourself up, while he slammed the door to the bedroom and went to go make dinner. When it was ready of course he always found you laying where he left you, sobbing. Then he would, roughly, force you to your feet and drag you into the bathroom where he would run you a bath. This is where he would feel really guilty and suddenly turn soft. Every time. Gently shampooing your hair and cleaning your body, tenderly attending to the bites on your neck, happily babbling about how much he loves you and he knows you’ll love him eventually, you just need more time to adjust was all. Jaime would then clothe you himself and carry you down to dinner. You wouldn’t eat willingly, too catatonic by this point in the evening to do much of anything, but that was okay. Jaime was still in his sweet phase, all the anger having left earlier. He would feed you himself but compel you to swallow with his vampiric power, he always made your favorites. He had diligently learned to cook them perfectly for you over the years even though he otherwise did not enjoy cooking. After dinner he would always make an effort to spend some time with you, not getting angry when you were still, and when it was time for bed he would carry you up in his strong arms and lay you down as if you were made of the thinnest glass, a complete 180 to how he treated you when he first got off work. He would snuggle up to you from behind and hold you close, ending each night by telling you how much he loved you and saying he knew deep down you loved him back and one day you would be so happy with him. You hoped he was right, you hoped you could just be happy waking up in his arms, because if not this cycle of abuse juxtaposed to tenderness would never end.

#yandere terato #yandere teratophilia #yandere vampire #vampire man #male vampire x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader #male yandere x reader #male vampire x gn reader #My OCs #My OC Jaime

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fangsandfeels · 3 months

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It's never explained why Mizora tries to tempt Tav with sex, aside from the fact that she simply wants to: she is curious, she is bored, she likes messing with mortals and this was yet another way for her to get them hooked on hellish influence, etcetera, etcetera.

Personally, I prefer to imagine that it's also her way of sowing the seeds of discord in the group because if Wyll refuses to enter a forever pact to save his father, Mizora is extremely salty.

It's logical for her to put everyone he calls friends in a bad light, to set them up and show how she can get anyone wrapped around her claw - how anyone can choose her over him. I expected her to try and take away one of the few things Wyll had left: his trust in his friends by making them fall to temptation.

She tried to break him so many times. She would whisper lies in Florrick's ears painting Wyll as the usurper. Why wouldn't she try to ruin this as well? Like, her whole intention of lingering in the camp is to be a painful reminder to Wyll of the choice he made and expect him to run back to her for a new deal.

This makes me think that Mizora tries to flirt and offer sex not just to Tav, but to almost everyone else in the group. And gets rejected fabulously.

Lae'zel sends her to the Zarielland before she can even finish. And repeats it so as many times as it takes for Mizora to get the hint.

Astarion just goes "Ah, sorry darling. It's not me, it's you. Also, maybe, do something about that sulfur stench before you try to seduce anyone who is not a mephit?" *trademark bratty laugh*

Gale hints that he is a man of immense encyclopedical sexual knowledge that encompasses some truly divine techniques, but the privilege of experiencing this type of Gale magic shall be bestowed on his true love, which is certainly not Mizora. But, if she apologizes for her abhorrent behavior and promises to leave the camp and Wyll alone, he might be so kind as to give her a brief introductory lecture and let her take notes.

Halsin basically offers Mizora to go fuck a deep rothe in the most polite way possible.

Shadowheart would agree. But when Mizora shows up for the night of passion, instead of Shadowheart there is Dame Aylin with a steel chair.

#baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #mizora #bg3 mizora #i imagine that if she even tries to approach minsc or jaheira she gets a face full of boo #nobody throws him he just launches himself at her #in this house we love and support wyll ravengard

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semisolidmind · 6 months

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In the twice as bad au, what if they never met reader before and only met her in modern days? Maybe mk was talking about his new friends and she came up, they got curious, followed mk without him knowing and then saw her for the very first time, what then?

(....first thing that came to mind—they haven't learned.

in the scenario where they lose their previous reader, they've had hundreds of years to think about what they could've done differently to keep reader with them. perhaps they've also begun to realize that kidnapping and holding her hostage doesn't look favorably on them.

but—if they never had reader in the past, they don't know to be better for the reader in the present.)

perhaps, despite trusting his son to take care of himself, wukong doesn't trust anyone else to not cause him trouble. so, he sends macaque to follow xiaotian to the city.

the six-eared demon follows the boy, witnessing his battle with a young dragon (whom surprisingly quickly befriends xiaotian), and the subsequent trip they take to the noodle shop. he's given the same introduction to the gang as xiaotian is (from the shadows, of course). they all welcome the boy, despite their wariness of his appearance.

there doesn't seem to be any reason to intervene...not yet, anyways. these people don't have anywhere near the same power as the monkey bro's protégé, and what power they do have is untapped and relatively untrained. it's definitely an eclectic cast; two demons, a cat, a dragon, one magically-inclined monk wannabe, and a human woman. she's the only one without any sort of power, macaque notes with curiosity.

it's not love at first sight, but... he does think she's easy on the eyes. it's only as macaque continues to keep an eye on xiaotian and his new friends that he learns more about her. she's pretty nice and relatively easygoing, cares for her friends, and is surprisingly level-headed in stressful situations.

and she's ridiculously fun to tease.

macaque will occasionally antagonize the group in the name of "helping the kid train" (which has the added dramatic benefit of potentially sowing some discord amongst his friends; mac gets the feeling xiaotian isn't being honest with them about his family). while the others put up a good fight, reader seems to try to avoid conflict on the grounds of being a normal, non-magic human. this inability to fight (though that frying pan of hers gives her the confidence to try) makes her the perfect damsel in distress.

the dark-furred demon makes a habit of kidnapping reader after these fights, forcing her friends to scramble to find her. this happens often enough that it gets to where macaque and reader will have genuine conversations during the time that he's hiding her from the gang. they become tentative friends during this time and reader comes to realize that he's likely not going to actually hurt her... probably. and he's pretty funny and easy to talk to, all things considered. reader doesn't hate him. (though she probably should? maybe?)

macaque quickly figures out where her apartment is, and persistently shows up unannounced to pester her. he says that when he's "not on villain duty," he can hang out with her if he wants; not like she can stop him, right? it starts out as the six-eared demon just messing with reader; eating her food, using her television, hogging her couch, and generally being a nuisance. teasing and goading her every chance he gets, he enjoys her reactions (and her attempts to not react).

however, macaque starts getting more and more attached the longer he spends with her. even when he's antagonizing the other members of the group, he'll make sure she's not in harm's way. he'll extricate her from the gang's fights against other villainous demons (usually against her will), shadowing her away to safety.

it doesn't help that once he stops outright pestering her, she warms up to him more, too.

it's working in macaque's favor that wukong already established mandatory visits for xiaotian every so often to make sure he's not slacking, so if mac leaves for the city— eh, he's just checking on the kid, no big deal. he tells wukong almost everything about his visits, but not about his favorite human. wouldn't want him to get too curious; mac knows his brother, and he knows what's gonna happen if wukong finds out about reader.

is it really so wrong that he wants to keep this one fun thing for himself?

———

the monkey king finds it a bit strange that his shadowy brother is spending so much time in the city they ever-so-often destroy. sure, he knows mac likes to cause trouble, but his visits are usually more sporadic.

wukong is beginning to think he's not even visiting xiaotian anymore.

when wukong makes the decision to check on his son himself, he goes to the noodle shop in disguise (it's a bit tough to get anything done when the very sight of you is enough to incite a panic). it's been a while since he's interacted with a mortal that wasn't running from him in terror, so he's a bit awestruck when reader greets him kindly. he's embarrassingly unused to being spoken to like a normal person, but he manages to not make too much of a fool of himself.

he chats her up while he waits on both his son and his order, finding himself charmed. she's sweet, she likes jokes, she's pretty and nice and wukong likes it when she laughs—

he wants to see her again.

so he does. wukong no longer tells macaque to check on xiaotian, instead making the visits himself. seeing as his kid has taken up residence in the noodle shop, is it really so strange that he visits so often?

he also "runs into" reader when she's buying groceries or making a delivery, and offers to help her. he counts the little meetups as "dates" and is working his way up to asking her to be his officially. he won't resort to "ancient demon courting methods" just yet.

he also hasn't told her who he really is. he changes his distinctive facial markings and lightens his hair a shade, shifts the color of his eyes from bloody red to less threatening gold, and wears his hood up. he tells reader he "tries to keep a low profile"; monkey demons get a bad rap in this city, what with that dreaded monkey king always causing havoc.

he'd like for reader to come to care for him like he does her. but, since there's a chance she won't be as open to being with him if she finds out he's the monkey king and not just your average run-of-the-mill monkey demon, perhaps it'd be best to keep his true identity a secret for a while longer.

of course, he eventually runs into macaque (while on his way to reader's place, so he saw macaque leaving from there), and they have a fun lil conversation (that eventually turns into a brawl) about the whole situation. wukong makes fun of his lil brother for falling for a human, macaque hits him back with the fact that it took wukong even less time to fall for her than it took him, it goes back and forth.

when the battle cools off, the brothers talk sincerely about how they feel. neither are willing to give reader up, so...they'll share, like they always have. they both continue to court an adorably but frustratingly oblivious reader, eventually meeting her at the same time and telling her that they're brothers. she's only mildly surprised, to their relief. they're both glad they've fallen for a human who's so comfortable around demons, especially ones as powerful as them. it's not often that a human isn't immediately off put by their aura of strength.

things are calm for a while. xiaotian is being a hero and having fun adventures with his friends, the two monkey warlords are staying out of trouble (mostly), reader is happy... all is well.

however, it eventually starts falling apart.

things quickly begin to change. just visiting reader occasionally isn't enough; wukong wants her to live on his mountain with him. he wants to reveal himself as the monkey king and let reader know the truth. he wants to show her the stone palace, the fruit tree forests, he wants her to meet his people. yet macaque insists they take it slow, that stealing her will just make her afraid of them (and should only be a last resort). he doesn't mind a little fear, but it'll hurt their chances in the long run. so, wukong refrains.

still, he's getting tired of going to the city.

and it's getting increasingly dangerous there, besides. more and more powerful adversaries are coming out of the woodwork, and reader keeps getting caught in the crossfire. nothing serious has happened yet, but perhaps the king will need to arrange a surprise relocation for his darling peach...

———

it happens sooner than he expected.

a powerful foe re-emerges, and xiaotian and his friends aren't strong enough to stop them on their own. the young monkey demon is forced to call on his family for help, both his villainous father and shady uncle arriving just in time to help slow the threat.

the monkey warlords make the fight exponentially easier, their brutality in battle on full display.

wukong can't hide his identity from reader any longer. she knows who he is now, has seen the friendly facade of the peach-colored mask fade into the bright red of his signature warpaint-like markings. she's just a scared and betrayed as he thought she'd be. she knows just what monster she's been dealing with now.

said monster sees an opportunity, and he's done playing around.

while her friends are occupied with finishing off the demon...

...wukong steals reader.

a fitting reward for aiding in saving the world, he thinks.

#bad end wukong #twice as bad au

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nightlight-stardust-and-rain · 1 year

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So. Predatory species Obi-wan.

Mostly I just think it's funny to make him a predator bc if you take all the SW character and go "which one looks more likely to eat someone" Obi-Wan would definitely not be it. Not even top 20. He's much more likely to deliver a devastating burn with a flat tone lmao but anyway!

Specifically, Obi-wan being from a species who's pretty damn known for eating people. Like, it's not the only thing they can eat but a...... Something big happened a while ago and the galaxy never really forgot. Nowadays Stewjoni people don't really eat anyone but it's.... Mostly because they don't leave their planet. The predatory instincts are definitely here (Quinlan wears proof of that because once when they were teenagers he made the mistake of pissing obi-wan off and letting his finger wander a bit too close and long story short, Obi-wan bit him so hard he severed Quinlan's finger and they had to go to a healer really fast. Obi-wan felt super guilty for a while but Quinlan annoyed him into forgiving himself. Nowadays he's more embarassed that he lost control so bad. Quinlan thinks it was hilarious and that he definitely expected to get bitten but he didn't expect the result.)

Mostly the instincts are just Obi-wan really wanting to bite people when they're annoying and maybe wanting to chase people if they turn their back to him and run. Also headbutting people to show affection, which became a Whole Thing™ when he was on Mandalore. He doesn't really thinks about how people would taste until he's hungry and he's really good at controlling himself.

But basically this whole thing came from an idea I had with Alpha-17!

Basically it's like. Obi-wan being a predatory species is a bit of a secret bc like.... It's not like he'd be killed if people knew but Stewjoni still have a really bad reputation. So he doesn't like to talk about it. And people don't really know because he looks so mild-mannered and he smiles with his mouth closed so you can't see the teeth and he hides his hands in his sleeves because otherwise he picks at his skin which is not good when one has claws.

Okay so the clones don't know Obi-wan is from a predatory species. He's not hiding it, but when the clones see him headbutt Anakin like an affectionate Tooka they either go "maybe that's a nat-born thing" or "maybe that's a Jedi thing" or "makes sense, my batch mate like keldabe kisses too". Due to their childhood they have literally no idea of what is Normal Human Behavior so they don't notice that Obi-Wan isn't human.

Point is, Obi-wan and Alpha-17 get captured by Ventress and she tries to sow discord by being all "how can you trust a predator ? Unless you didn't know what he was? Then how can you trust something that hides what it is" basically she's just trying to get Alpha to distrust Obi-wan so he won't try to help him escape.

Obi-Wan's kind of expecting.... Not fear, exactly. Alpha-17 sort of doesn't do fear. But he's expecting some agressivity at least. Some wariness.

Except Alpha is just mostly outraged. How come Kenobi, who won't even kill a few annoying senators, gets the biological advantages that comes with being a predator?? That's so unfair. This idiot wouldn't even think about eating anyone. Alpha could use the biology way better! He would have loved to be able to eat a few kaminoans!! That's fucking unfair. How come his Jedi gets sharp fangs and he doesn't?? UN. FAIR.

Lmao yeah the whole plot is basically just Alpha-17 being offended that his pacifist of a general won the genetic lottery while he (who would have used the fangs as they're meant to be used!!) didn't. Boo.

(Obi-wan is wondering why Alpha-17 and Anakin don't get along better because they have startlingly similar reactions to learning about his species)

#Dripping stardust #obi wan kenobi #alpha 17 #star wars #Also Obi-wan bonding with Ahsoka about being predators and Anakin pouting in the background #He's literally the child of the Force! How come HE doesn't gets cool fangs or claws? >:(

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eclecticpatrolroadlawyer · 7 months

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Illicit affairs (chapter 1)

Summary: Bucky and Y/n are in arranged marriage. Bucky is having an affair. This is all it is about... Let's see where Y/n's fate lies... Should we?

Pairings: Bucky x reader, Bucky x Dot ...

Genre: angst, affair, unrequited love

'Love' The word floats between all of us on a soft gust of air. 'Deep, abiding, unconditional love. You want it so much you're willing to live for it' Most people think the greatest sacrifice they can make is to die for something. They are wrong.

The truest act of love someone can make is to live for something- to allow it to consume you and turn you into a version of yourself you never recognize.

It is a tale of 4 souls twisted and helpless in their love lives. It is a narrative that contains some heartbreaks, the bitter taste of unreciprocated affection, and one that dared not to unveil itself- which takes courage to love for so long from a distance.

This is a story where one soul offered everything at love's altar, a vulnerable sacrifice, while another callously exploited that very vulnerability, sowing discord where passion once blossomed...

Y/n's pov

The room feels colder than usual as I stare out the window, my heart sinking with every passing minute. The anticipation is suffocating, and my patience wears thin. "Again," I whisper, the word heavy with disappointment.

I watch the street below, searching for a familiar figure that is yet to appear. The seconds drag on, and my anxiety intensifies. The lump in my throat grows, making it harder to swallow. A sigh escapes me, a mixture of frustration and hurt.

"He is late again."

I can't help but clench my fists on the curtains, the fabric bunching in my grip. The emptiness in the room echoes the ache in my chest. Tears threaten to spill, and I fight to hold them back. I bite my tongue, tasting the metallic tang of frustration as I try to steady my trembling emotions.

I force myself to look away from the window, taking in shaky breaths to regain composure. Each breath feels like a struggle, a battle against the rising tide of disappointment. I look up, my eyes blurred with unshed tears, and will myself to find strength.

Deep breaths. In and out.

I wrestle with my emotions, fighting the urge to crumble. It's a lonely battle, and the weight of unspoken words hangs heavy in the air. The silence is deafening, broken only by the echoes of my own heartbeat.

half an hour later

The sound of the door knob rattling pulls me from my thoughts, and I turn to see him entering, supposedly from his so-called 'jogging' session. His disheveled hair and the hickey marks on his neck don't escape my notice, but I keep my gaze down, focusing on chopping the ingredients for breakfast. The rhythmic slicing helps channel my frustration into the task.

Silence hangs in the air, heavy with unspoken words and the weight of disappointment. I clench my jaw, determined not to let the emotions bubbling within me overflow. Why me, I wonder.

I put on a fake smile, a mask to conceal the turmoil beneath the surface. Breaking the tense quiet, I decide to confront the reality before me, choosing words carefully as I break the uneasy silence.

"How was it?"

The question hangs in the air as I continue chopping, my hands steady despite the storm raging inside me. The tension is heavy as I await his response.

He seems startled, caught off guard by the unexpected interruption to your silence. Nervously, he stammers a response.

"Huh? W-What?"

"Jogging... You went jogging, right?" I press, my eyes focused on the task at hand, but my peripheral vision catches his every move. I put down the knife, turning to face him with a fake smile plastered on my face.

"Oh, jogging... Yes, jogging... Yeah, it was good... good," he replies, the words rushed and accompanied by a forced smile. The tension lingers, hanging in the air like an unspoken truth, and I maintain my fake smile, masking the hurt that hides beneath the surface.

The question hangs in the air, a carefully veiled inquiry concealing the knowledge I already possess. "Bucky," I murmur, the weight of the question palpable in the room. "how many years has it been since our arranged union? One or two?" I lock eyes with him, searching for a flicker of guilt, a hint that he might confess to the secrets he thinks are well hidden.

The room feels heavy with the unspoken truth as I press on, my voice carrying a subtle undercurrent of accusation. "You would never hurt me, right?" I ask, knowing the answer even before the words leave my lips. His eyes betray a hint of unease, a fleeting glimpse of a man caught in his own web of betrayal.

I turn my attention to the task at hand, my fingers gripping the edge of the counter as I continue, "It's just, sometimes I wonder about our arranged marriage. Do you?" My words linger in the air, a calculated challenge, as I maintain a facade of innocence, masking the storm of emotions that swirl within me.

Bucky shifts uncomfortably under the weight of my penetrating gaze, his eyes momentarily faltering before regaining composure. "Uh, yeah, it's been two years," he answers, attempting to sound nonchalant. His attempt at a casual demeanor betrays a hint of unease, a subtle acknowledgment that he senses the underlying tension.

I maintain my facade, the corners of my lips twitching into a semblance of a smile. "And you'd never hurt me, right?" I press further, watching for any subtle changes in his expression. Bucky hesitates, a fleeting moment where the truth seems to hang in the air. "Of course not," he replies, the words lacking the conviction they once held.

As I turn back to my task, the air between us crackles with unspoken truths and concealed betrayals, creating a rift that neither of us dares to bridge.

Bucky's POV

Bucky's response hangs in the air, a weight on his conscience that he can't shake off. As I turn away, the guilt tightens in his stomach. He can't escape the unease, knowing he's betraying not just the arrangement but the person at the center of it.

He sighs, heavy with remorse, as he heads for the bathroom. The sound of running water becomes a feeble attempt to drown out the turmoil in his mind. Bucky leans against the cool tiles, steam clouding the mirror, mirroring the fog in his thoughts.

"What have I done?" he whispers, the weight settling in his stomach. The jog's facade crumbles, revealing the truth of his choices. The affair, the lies—it's a web tightening around him, and he's not sure how to break free without causing irreparable damage.

Under the shower's cold stream, Bucky stands, his hand braced against the tiles. The water pounds against him, a feeble attempt to wash away the guilt. As each droplet falls, he confronts the consequences of his actions. The arranged marriage, once a distant pact, now feels shattered. Bucky closes his eyes, trying to block out the guilt threatening to consume him. In the cascade of water, he faces the mess he's made, uncertain if there's any way to salvage the delicate threads holding their union together.

The cold shower beats against Bucky, a stark contrast to the heat of his thoughts. His hand tightens on the tiles as he battles the storm inside. The water's steady drumming echoes his emotions, a chaotic mix of regret and confusion.

"What am I doing?" he mutters, the words lost in the shower's noise. The images of his mistakes play on a loop in his mind—the marks on the neck, the messed-up sheets. It's a vivid reminder of betrayal.

The truth is undeniable. The affair breaks trust, a breach of the commitment he made, even if reluctantly, in this arranged marriage. As the water rushes over him, Bucky tries to wash away not just the physical traces but the guilt staining his conscience.

The fogged-up mirror reflects a man in conflict. His guilty eyes meet their own gaze, and for a moment, he doesn't recognize himself.

"What have I become?" The question lingers, unanswered, as he stands beneath the unrelenting water. The bathroom isn't a refuge; it amplifies the loneliness. Bucky is stuck in a silent struggle, torn between duty and desire, unsure if he can find a way out without leaving everything shattered behind.

Dot's POV

(girl with whom Bucky is cheating with)

"He is gone again," I murmur to myself, my gaze fixed on the fan dangling from the ceiling. The bed beside me feels emptier than usual, a constant reminder of his absence. The weight of silence settles in the room, and once again, I find myself engulfed in loneliness...

Every day, it's the same struggle. A battle between the promise I make to myself and the undeniable pull he has on me. "Every time... every day. I let him in," I admit in the quiet of my thoughts. The bed, cold and untouched, bears witness to my internal conflict. It's a routine of surrendering to a love that should never have blossomed.

"I can always stop," I tell myself daily, a mantra of resistance that crumbles with each passing moment. The realization hits hard — I'm ruining myself for him. The weight of guilt presses down as I acknowledge the gravity of my actions.

"I am so bad," I confess silently, my heart heavy with self-loathing. I'm entangled in an affair with a married man who has a loving wife. The reality of my choices echoes in the hollow spaces of the room. "I'm so sorry," I whisper to no one but myself, a futile apology to the shadows that witness my moral descent.

"I hate myself... I hate it," the thought echoes, a painful admission of the self-destructive path I tread. Love, tangled with regret, becomes a poison that seeps into every corner of my being. Yet, despite the self-flagellation, the ache for him lingers, a bittersweet melody that refuses to be silenced.

The room, my safe place, now shows the mess inside me. I turn from the fan's spin, lost in the shadows. The secret love has left marks, stains that no apology can wipe away. As I try to understand this mess of feelings, I wonder if I can ever fix the pieces of my self-respect that have shattered.

The words slip out in a hushed murmur, barely audible in the quiet room. "I am sorry." The weight of the apology hangs in the air, a fragile attempt to mend the fractures that linger between us. It's a simple phrase, but it carries the echoes of regret and a longing for forgiveness. The weight of regret settles in, and I can't help but wonder if these simple words will ever be enough to mend the fractures I've created.

The illicit affair has left its mark, a stain that no amount of whispered apologies can erase. As I search through the wreckage of my emotions, I'm left to wonder if the fragments of my self-respect can ever be pieced back together.

Not everyone gets the same version of me.

One person might tell you I'm an amazing beautiful soul.

Another person will say I'm a coldhearted bitch.

Believe them both, I act accordingly.

-love

Chapter 2

Note: Hey guys! Hope you like it. English is actually my second language so if there's any mistake you can inform me by messaging me privately. And PLEASE REBLOG AND DON'T STEAL MY WORK. Please like and comment too so, that I can know your views. Thank you for reading guys! Have a nice day and please comment if you wanna be tagged in.

Taglist: @angstysebfan @cjand10 @learisa @themorningsunshine @binkszamsstuff @dreamerglassesgirl @winterslove1917 @perfectpieslimeprune @nikkivillar @bethexo07

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chiibi-chaan · 10 months

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Gojo Satoru//hide, doll.

Content warnings// DARK CONTENT, +18 (minors dni), afab!reader (non uses of specific pronouns), ghostface!Gojo Satoru, yandere!Gojo Satoru, stalking, obsessive behavior, mention of murders, Y/n is threatened, manipulation, pet names (baby, doll, angel, my love), breaking into Y/N’s house, hide and seek (fear play?), knife play, dirty talk, blood kink, injuries, cunnilingus, slight choke kink, dub-con at first, unprotected sex, hidden camera.

Word count// 4.2K

Synopsis//He needed you, to the point of becoming crazy, to the point of killing. He wanted to grave his name into your skin, marking you forever, leaving a trace of his own existence directly into your body. You were his, his pretty doll… and you looked even more beautiful now that he had drawn his own art into your flesh, you were his perfect canvas.

A/n// NOT PROOFREAD (I'll correct it later). I apologize if there are mistakes, I had to publish this like 5 days ago but the whole thing was deleted by Tumblr because the app crashed before I could save my work, and I had exams too- I apologize to the people who were waiting for this, and I'll certainly write this week about the winner of the list some of you voted for (Sugar daddy!Toji is the winner for now, there's only one day left!)

JUJUTSU KAISEN MASTERLIST. MASTERLIST.

It was finally Friday, and after such a long week of work, you needed to rest for at least the whole weekend. You didn’t plan to go outside, mostly because of the last events that occurred in the city where you lived. Indeed, a serial killer sowed discord in the streets, slashing innocent people in the most atrocious way. Most of the victims were acquaintances of yours, not close friends, but people you knew and to whom you would say good morning when you met them. You lived in a small town where everyone knew each other, and the thought that this killer could be one of your friends, was frightening. You couldn’t even walk in the streets without being paranoid, after all, without their mask, the killer could be anyone and anywhere. When you weren’t working, you stayed in your house, making sure that everything was locked and that the house was secured. The only people that you would let in your house were your parents and your best friend, but lately you didn't have the chance de see either of them. At least, your best friend was coming for a sleep over. You needed to relax, and it was the best way to forget everything that was happening. Even though you knew that a murderer was out there, you had this innocent idea that they wouldn't come for your life, because you weren't a bad person, just a normal office worker. How naive were you to believe that. You were the perfect prey, the perfect victim, a weak and ignorant person who wasn't paying enough attention to their surroundings, even if you tried, it wasn't enough, and it was clear that nothing you would do would be enough. Unfortunately, that simple mistake, was going to cost you more than you could give.

Soon, you received a text from your best friend, telling you that something came up and that you'll have to see each other another time. You sighed, closing your eyes and tilting your head back. It seemed like you'll be alone another night in your house. You stood up, quickly making sure that your front door was locked before walking to the bathroom, taking a quick shower. After putting on a comfortable shirt and shorts, you went back to the first floor, heading to the kitchen to make yourself popcorn that you were going to eat while watching a movie. Suddenly, your landline phone started ringing, startling you. You sighed, frowning a little and answering the call.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Y/n."

You raised your eyebrows, frowning even more as you didn’t recognise the deep, low voice talking to you, and yet, it seemed like the man at the other end of the call knew you. You sat on the kitchen’s counter while the popcorn were in the microwave.

"Who is this?"

"Mmh… A very, very bad guy."

"Don’t you have anything else to do? It’s late already, stop wasting my time."

"I have a question for you. What is our favorite scary movie?"

"It's not funny, you think that you're something, acting like that sick murderer just for a little prank?You're pathetic."

"If you hang up, I’ll—"

You didn’t listen anymore, hanging up before he could finish his sentence. That call clearly made you in a bad mood; with everything that was happening, dumb kids still made pranks like this? The only thing that bothered you was the fact that he knew your name, but except that, you didn’t pay anymore attention to it, or at least, until a few seconds later. The landline phone rang again, making you frown and glare at it in silence until it stopped. You thought that the person would get bored and stop, but you were wrong, it kept ringing, again and again, until you had enough and answered again.

"What is wrong with you?! Leave me alone!"

"If you fucking hang up on me or ignore me again, I’ll gut you like a fish."

Your hand almost let go of the phone in shock, your eyes widening and you body becoming stiff on the counter as you heard his low voice threatening you.

"W-What?"

"I’m sorry, Y/N. You made me lose my temper for a second."

"Are you crazy? You’re clearly sick! I don’t even know you and yet you’re here, threatening me and harassing me? Leave me alone if you don’t want me to call the police!"

You said with a loud yet trembling voice, ready to hang up again but stopping in your track when you heard him yell, your body stiffening even more and your blood running cold.

"Do you think I’m joking, Y/n? Oh, no… no, no, no… I can see you, doll… you’re so pretty, sitting on this counter like that… are you waiting for me? You can just open the door and I’ll keep you company…"

You gulped, looking up at the window of the kitchen just in front of you, only seeing darkness outside. But you knew that if you could only see shadows, the man staring at you outside could see you perfectly in the light of the room. You stood up, your legs a little weak and your hand trembling a little as you held the phone to your ear, your voice not about a murmur as you whispered;

"W-What do you want?"

"I want to play a game with you, doll… nothing too difficult."

"Will you let me live if I do…?"

"If you win, I will. It’s a real simple game, doll. You just need to be quick and smart, but you’re such a perfect girl, I’m sure that you can go beyond my expectations."

"What is the game?"

"Hide and seek. I’ll let you some time so that you can hide… and then, I’ll come in and look for you. If I can’t find you, you win… but if I do…"

He simply chuckled, his deep, husky voice sounding like a threat against your ear. What did he mean by that? He was going to come in? In your house? You gulped and looked through the window again.

"And don’t think about calling the police, doll… if you do, I’ll have to kill you. Now, you have five minutes to hide. I won’t cheat, promise."

You could hear the smirk in his voice and a little scream escaped from you mouth as the electricity in the house has suddenly been turned off. You gripped the landline phone tightly and ran upstairs to your bedroom. Your closet had a false wall, which no one knew the existence except your parents and best friend, and you planned to hide there. You were sure that this crazy man wouldn’t be able to find you. You removed the false wall of the closet, holding the wooden plank in your hands and sitting inside the closet, fitting just right into the hole behind your clothes. You put back the false wall in place and waiting, holding the phone to your ear again and listening to the his voice, he was still counting, and you shivered as you heard him finally pronouncing 300. You gulped nervously, trying to control your breathing while he spoke again.

"Ready or not, I'm coming to find you, doll."

You trembled as you heard a loud crash downstairs, he was really in the house, it seemed like he broke a window to come in. You could hear him chuckle softly, as if he found all this funny. For him, it was just a child play, but for you, it was a deadly game, your life was at stake. And unfortunately, fate wasn’t by your side today. You could hear his heavy footsteps as he goes up the stairs, he didn’t even lose time looking for you on the first floor. Maybe he thought that you would instinctively go upstairs as a way to change position in the house, or he just knew from the beginning where you were. And if it was the latter, you were sure that you would not be able to escape, not even if you tried to put up a fight.

"I hope you are still listening, doll… because I have a little surprise for you. I’m sure that you won’t answer me, since you’re supposed to be hiding and stay quiet, but I really miss hearing your voice. I can say, without doubt, that you’re curious about who I am, after all, we live in a small town, where everyone knows each other, but here I am, killing the people I saw all my life. Isn’t it ironical?"

You could hear him chuckle, before he became silent for a few seconds. And as you listened carefully, you heard him stop walking, the sound of his footsteps stopping right in front of your bedroom’s door. You closed your eyes tightly, praying that he wouldn’t find you, that you will win the game, or at least that he will be merciful enough to let you. But you were wrong, so wrong.

"You know, at first, I tried control it. This urge, this consuming thirst of blood… of death. I had this small part of my brain telling me that all of this was so, so wrong, and which made me feel even more guilty. But desire takes over everything, and soon, what held me from killing disappeared, engulfed by that other part of me, more cruel, more evil. So, I started to kill. I killed the people getting in my way. And I’m sure that you’re even more confused. I mean, why you? Why am I telling you this? Why am I doing this? The answer is very simple; it’s all for you, for us."

Your blood ran cold and you froze, your hand trembling as you held the phone tightly Your mind was completely blurred by insane thoughts, and as if the time stopped, as if only him and you existed, you understood. Tears formed in your eyes and a small sob escaped from your mouth as you tried to forget, to not think about what you feared the most. You didn’t want to believe it, to even think about it, but you couldn’t stop yourself, you couldn’t chain that dreadful realisation in the back of your head, like it never existed. And as the door of your room opened, the slow creaking of the wood making your heart beat in your temples and the sound of his steps echoing between the walls and in your ears like a drum of death, you couldn’t deny it anymore. Tears rolled down your cheeks and you looked up slowly, sobbing quietly as the sound of the closet opening was heard, before the false wall hiding you was slowly removed. And as your eyes met the dark chasms that were his eyes, or more precisely the eyes of his mask, you cried even more.

"hello, doll. Did you miss me?"

He whispered softly, chuckling behind his mask and crouching in front of you, his hand slowly playing with a dagger. Now, you could finally guess who it was, you could be sure of it. You could recognise his voice without even trying, this voice you heard all your life, since your childhood and until now. You knew this man, but the realisation that you actually didn’t was even more difficult to swallow.

"W-Why?"

"Because I can, and because I want to."

He simply answered, and before you could react, his fingers were already wrapped around your ankle, pulling you out of your hiding place and of the closet. You gasped, the back of your head and your back hitting the floor. You tried to fight back, but he was much stronger than you, his hand gripping one of your wrist and his other holding the blade of his dagger to your throat. You trembled, slowly calming down as I felt the weapon cutting my skin slightly, blood dribbling down my neck. He pulled back slightly, still holding the dagger to your neck and removing his mask with the other hand, provoking a small sob from your mouth as you saw his face, this face that you knew so well; the face of your best friend.

"S-Satoru... please, stop..."

"I can't stop, Y/n. It's too late. But you'll forgive me, right? You love me, doll... You can jut stay by my side and I'll protect you from all the disgusting men looking at you the wrong way."

"W-What? You killed them just for this? Satoru, you're delusional!"

"You think I'm crazy, right? You think I'm sick? but I'm not, I did this because I love you too, Y/n. It's my job to protect you, because I'm your everything, I'm the only person you can love besides your parents. They love me too, and they can't wish for a better husband for you, I'm the best choice! I'm rich, I'm handsome, strong, smart and funny. I can make you happy, your know that. So don't push me away, my love."

A small gasp escaped from your mouth once again as he pressed the dagger harder against your skin, your breath hitching and your hands holding on his black cloak. You then whimpered, trying to make him listen to you.

"Y-You're hurting me, 'toru..."

"I'm sorry, baby. But it's not by whining that I'll trust you. Unfortunately for you, I'm not an idiot, I may be I love, crazy in love, but I'm still smart enough to see what you are trying to say. "

"P-please, just put the knife away, you're scaring me..."

He sighed and nodded slowly, putting the dagger in a pocket of his cloak, away from your eyes. You closed your eyes in relief, but yet again, you couldn't think about relaxing with an insane murderer in front of you. Satoru ran his fingers through his silver hair, his baby blue eyes looking down at you. He leaned forward again, his hand wrapping around your neck, his thumb trailing along the small cut he made and wiping the blood. His eyes stared back into your eyes and he sucked his thumb with a slight smirk, licking your blood.

"You forgive me, baby? I just got a little excited... I wanted to taste you for so long, I'm almost desperate."

He chuckled, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you against him, lifting you lower body off the floor. he buried his face in your neck, his tongue slowly licking your cut, making you shiver and feeling things that you were ashamed of; your body stiffening and a small gasp coming out of your mouth. You could feel him smile against your skin, his hands running along your thighs and squeezing your hips gently. But even though he did this, you didn't do anything to stop him. You knew it was wrong, so wrong, and yet you still couldn't truly believe it, you couldn't accept that he was a murderer, that the man you've known all your life, the man you trusted and loved, killed people. You couldn't even deny the words he said earlier; he was handsome, smart... He described himself perfectly, and until now, you really thought that he was. Your heart started beating faster, bumping madly against your rib cage. Your hand gripped his hair, pulling his head away from your neck, your eyes hooded with a mix of desire and embarrassment.

"Satoru, it's... it's wrong..."

"It isn't, baby... just relax. let me take care of you..."

"but..."

"shh... trust me, okay? I can make you feel good..."

He kissed you softy, his hands holding your thighs around his waist, his hips slowly grinding against yours. You could feel the bulge of his erection straining against his pants and pressed against your crotch. Satoru smiled, his hands pulled your panties down your legs and he looked down at your exposed cunt, biting his lips softly before trailing his fingers along your folds, feeling your wetness against his fingertips.

"You're so wet, doll... You want me, don't you? Say it for me..."

"I...!"

Your lips parted and you let out a small gasp, his thumb rubbing your clit gently and his middle finger and forefinger slipping into your hole. Your thighs clenched around his waist and you moaned, your eyes almost rolling back when he curled his fingers up, pressing against your g-spot. He hummed softly, his lips trailing along your jawline and your throat while he pumped his fingers in and out of you, his cock pulsing in his pants with each sweet moans coming out of your mouth or even the lewd and wet sounds your cunt let out as he fingered you. His free hand removed your shirt quickly, and he sat back a little, taking in the sight of your breasts and of your whole naked body. He pulled his fingers out of you and lifted you up in his arms, carrying you to the bed while kissing you passionately.

"You’re too good for me, baby… fuck, I know I don’t deserve you, I really do. And it hurts so much to be aware of that. But let me be selfish one more time, Y/n. Let me have you, let me taste you, let me make love to you, just let me love you."

He said softly, his voice not higher than a whisper softly as he rested his forehead against yours, laying you down on the bed and hovering over you, his forearms on each sides of your head keeping him up so that he wouldn’t crush you with his body. He sounded desperate, wounded by having to admit this aloud. He looked vulnerable, almost pitiful, and you couldn’t prevent yourself from feeling touched by his words. You pulled him closer, pushing aside all the things that happened today and all the things you discovered and just hugging him tight, melting in the warmth of his body and nuzzling your face into his neck, accepting how weak you were for him, forgiving and forgetting all the things he did, just because you loved him. He kissed the cut on your throat again and pressed his hips against your bare cunt, grinding against you and grunting softly.

"I wanna hear you, baby… please, I need you… say it for me, yeah? Let me hear your sweet voice, tell me you want me, tell me you want me to make love to you… I’ll make you feel so good, I promise…"

"Please, ‘toru… I want you too…"

"That’s right, baby… you’re so perfect, my sweet angel…"

He whispered and pulled back, quickly pulling his black cloak over his head along with his shirt, exposing his bare chest and chiseled stomach. You whimpered softly at the sight, your hands gently brushing against his skin, stroking delicately the scars on his skin. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes which were already staring right at you. He leaned forward and kissed your forehead softly before removing his pants too, only keeping on his boxers, which looked tight and uncomfortable due to his erection. His hands then held your thighs, pushing them apart as he laid down between them, his face close to your cunt. He looked up at you with hooded eyes, his hot breath caressing your sensitive skin and he pressed a gentle kiss on your inner thigh, his mind already completely clouded by the scent of you, by your mesmerising beauty and simply by you whole. Then, he finally put his mouth where you needed him the most, his eyes half closed as he looked at your every reactions while his tongue lapped at your folds, licking and swallow your wetness while his nose rested against your clit, his tongue pushing into your hole slightly, teasing you. Your heart pulsed faster into your chest as you tried to hold the eye contact, your face becoming hot with embarrassment and desire as you took in the sight of him, of his head buried between your thighs and his mouth eating you out almost desperately while his mesmerising eyes looked straight back at you. You moaned his name, one of your hands gently gripping his hair while the other held on the sheets tightly. He took only mere minutes to make you come undone on his tongue, moaning himself against your core while grinding himself against the mattress, his hands gripping your thighs firmly as he sucked on your pulsing clit, his lips and chin glistening with your slick.

"F-Fuck, you taste so good, baby… could make me cum in my boxers like some virgin high school boy…"

Satoru whined softly, kissing your clit one last time before pulling away, his tongue running along his lips and licking your juices. He quickly pulled down his pants, along with his boxers, and sighed as his member sprung free, no more confined by its contraints. A small gasp escaped from your mouth at the sight of his cock, much thicker than you had imagined, his pinkish tip dribbling with precum. He pumped himself in his fist, groaning softly and being his bottom lip. You stared at him with hooded eyes, gasping softly when he rubbed the head of his cock against your folds, pushing between them ad gliding it along your slit.

"Do you want it, doll? Do you want my cock inside your pretty cunt, mmh?"

You could feel your face radiating with heat, your body even hotter with boiling arousal. You nodded slightly, not trusting your voice as your mouth let out a moan when his tip teased your clit, rubbing against it. You whimpered softly, your body stiffening as you felt him slowly pushing inside of you, his thick cock filling you up to the brim.

"f-fuck, fuck...! I love you, baby... o-oh god, you can't even imagine h-how much I dreamed about having this sweet little pussy around my c-cock..."

Satoru stammered, his dick twitching inside of you while he clenched his teeth. he could barely stay sane at this point, his mind completely foggy with lust and euphoria as he tried to stay still so that you could adjust to his size. You gasped for air, your back slightly arched and your eyes rolling back as you felt his tip kissing your cervix, small whimpers escaping from your mouth. Soon, he started moving, each thrusts of his hips sending your mind into a storm of bliss, your mouth agape and your nails scratching and digging into his back while he pounded into you, losing control over himself.

"you feel so good, baby... so much better than what I could ever imagine..."

He grunted, his face buried in your neck, his teeth digging into your skin hard enough to leave a mark, his breathing becoming ragged and heavy. He moaned as loud as you, his hands gripping your hips, your ass and your thighs desperately, anything that could ground him and keep him wrapped in your warmth.

"I w-want you, fuck...! Y-You're mine, doll. Do you understand? A-All... mine."

He whined into your ear, practically rutting against you like a dog, his voice shaking as he babbled incoherently into your neck. He could already feel himself getting closer to orgasm, one of his hand resting against your lower belly and his thumb rubbing your clit furiously. His trembling voice begged you to come with him, he needed to feel your pussy clenching and convulsing around his cock before thinking about allowing himself his own release. A loud cry of his name echoed in the room as you felt your orgasm overwhelming your nerves and muscles, your eyes rolling back and your back arching, pressing your breasts against his chest. He moaned, one of his hands wrapping around your neck and squeezing your throat enough to make you lightheaded, the bliss and lack of oxygen making everything even more overwhelming. He kept thrusting sloppily into your sensitive pussy, his free hand gripping the knife in the pocket of his cloak while you weren't even able to see. He licked his lips, pressing the tip of the knife against your skin, drawing the initials of his name on your lower belly. You couldn't even feel the pain, too focused on how his cock was ravaging your insides to the point of making you mindless. His cock pulled inside of you at the sight of the two bloody letters graved into your skin, his eyes rolling back as he buried himself deep inside of you, releasing his cum in your womb. His body trembled a little and he held you tight against him, breathing heavily against your neck. After a few seconds, he looked at you, a small smile stretching his lips as he saw you passed out, sleeping peacefully with his cock still deep inside of you. He whispered softly, nuzzling his face into your neck and closing his eyes, resting against your body a few minutes, before standing up, pulling back on his clothes and cleaning you up as best as he could. Then, he kissed you tenderly and covered you with a blanket before glancing at your desk against the wall, smirking as he saw the cute teddy bear he got you as a gift. He walked to it and took it in his hand, staring at one of the eyes of the stuffed animal and winking at it. It seemed like he now had a really good video about you both, which he would certainly watch when he missed you... His sweet and dumb doll.

#x reader #anime #afab reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #jjk #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #satoru x you #gojo x you #gojo satoru smut #ghostface #ghost face #ghostface smut

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tu-es-gegg · 6 months

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I find it funny poetic that Team BOLAS have just chosen to no longer play the game

In RP-wise its poetic cause the main purpose of Purgatory is to sow discordance, hence why all the couples and pairings are split apart, it's supposed to create drama and make them butt heads

Team BOLAS active members are filled with people who in their own way feel alone. Jaiden always feeling outcast because of how she is very forgiving of cucurucho, slime is obvious, foolish always keeping up that act of nothing bothering him when the loss of his family really weighs on him, Cellbit also obvious, Baghera also feeling out of place without pomme and also the whole experiemnt thing, philza losing his kids and just trying to mend the empty spot, and I think this is carres second time logging on

And now they're together just flat out saying secrets because they're at the end of their rope

Outside of RP, yeah they got along and still had fun despite the imbalance because they spent time together irl and thus formed stronger bonds, but those bonds started in RP first, slime and Baghera bonding during elections, the cucurucho buddies, Phil and Cellbit the archivists, etc. They already have such strong ties in RP despite always feeling like their own respective loners

Now they're in a game that forces them to stick it out for their own selves, play the game and grind and sweat, and what do they do at their breaking point? They don't care. They don't car ewho comes for them, they flat out showed themselves and revealed their coords cause it doesn't matter

Yes some of their kids are on the line but at this point, they're certain blue and green will duke it between themselves and see if they take pity thinking red is the cursed team

I remember sometimes winning a game doesn't mean playing it to win, it's playing it how you want to play, and team BOLAS?!?!?!, once they stopped playing for points and victory, started to just take it easy, they won in their own right

When they've been playing the rules of federation island for so long, whether by choice or by force, it's nice for them to simple fall back ont heir trusts in each other and just be.

#txt post #qsmp #qsmp purgatory #qsmp red team

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sheepiemc · 4 months

Text

your touch (a craving)

part 4: shoulder (first | prev)

Keep the Devildom in order.

That is my job.

This mantra had been repeating in Diavolo’s head ever since the Lotan hallway incident where he almost lost himself in your touch. The safety and security of the Devildom was - and always will be - his top priority. Imagine the chaos that would inevitably arise should the population catch wind that their prince held especially fond feelings for a participant of his exchange program, and a powerless human, no less!

Of course, he didn’t think of you as powerless. You held the leashes of 6 out of 7 of the Avatars of Sin, with the final one all but within your grasp. Hell, you didn’t even know how much power you wielded over him, the actual prince and acting ruler of the Devildom. That’s what made this whole situation so dangerous.

Diavolo could read your truth; he knew there were no ill intentions in your heart towards him or his people. But demons were an untrusting and suspicious lot. There was no way they would believe any human, with or without innate magical abilities, wasn’t trying to wield absolute power in the Devildom to sow discord and bring destruction to their way of life. Having pacts with the Avatars of Sin already put a target on your back; Diavolo didn’t want to make things worse by adding more fuel to the fire.

More than that, however, Diavolo knew you deserved someone who would be devoted to you and only you. As the future king of the Devildom, should something happen and there be a choice between you and his kingdom, he would have to pick his kingdom.

Every time.

He never wanted to make that decision. So he would keep it all inside. No one had to know his true feelings. He could keep pretending the attraction he felt towards you was because you were a novelty, and as soon as you went back to the human world - where you belonged - he would forget all about you.

He thought about all this, sitting at the big desk in his office, while he was supposed to be going over and signing all the plans for the Winter Formal - which had somehow ballooned into two separate events, The Winter Festival and Ball. The festival got the student body involved with booths from students and clubs, with extra snow-themed activities like ice skating, skiing, and a snowball fight tournament. The ball was still a traditional ball with a winter theme, but the increased workload from preparing for the festival made things a little strained for the prince, as most of the changes were his idea (even after he told Lucifer to handle everything).

He’d been in the office for hours already, and the light outside was shifting from perpetual twilight to perpetual dusk. His jacket was hung on the back of his chair and his tie was loosened, with the first two buttons on his shirt unbuttoned. How many hours had it been? He blinked, trying to focus on the paperwork in front of him. He had been at it so long, his hand was starting to cramp up. Diavolo put the pen down and sighed. He needed to get his mind off you AND this paperwork.

And he knew exactly what he needed to distract himself.

He looked around the empty room once before taking a key out from under a fake bottom in a drawer in his desk. Looking around again, he ducked beneath the big desk and used the key to unlock a secret compartment where he pulled out his latest guilty pleasure, Tempted by Forbidden Royal Desire by Amy Lovejoy. It’s not that Diavolo felt ashamed to read such a title, after all, what does a prince have to be ashamed of? No, Diavolo was being cautious so as not to incur the wrath of his loyal butler. Many a time previously had Barbados caught Diavolo reading something like Tempted by Forbidden Royal Desire when a deadline on some important business was approaching, so Barbados had banned the books from the office indefinitely.

But when his world got to be too much, Diavolo loved to get lost in the world of romantic fiction, where the heroines could overcome any adversity, and every ending was a happy one. Some heroines felt trapped by their station or duty, some heroines felt they couldn't be with their love interests because it was wrong or they were fundamentally incompatible, but true love always prevailed. Even when all seemed lost, a miraculous conflict resolution was just around the corner. He flipped to the last page he left off and continued reading:

He kissed her with all the passion of a thousand dying suns. She wanted to get lost in the sensations of him, his warmth, his strength, all that passion roiling underneath his taut skin. When his tongue slid into her mouth she felt like she was on fire. His strong, manly tongue dominated her smaller, weaker one. She wanted to be consumed by him. She knew she shouldn’t, of course. It wasn’t proper for a princess to desire so strongly but she couldn’t help how she felt. It had been so long since she had felt the touch of another, and never had she been graced by the touch of one from the opposite sex. Many nights she spent wondering if she would ever get out of this dungeon, if she would know happiness again. She knew she should push him away, try to fight, but his large hands held her delicate, feminine body so firmly in his grasp. Their mouths molded together perfectly. She whimpered into the kiss, helpless against the unyielding pressure building up within her, his hardness pressing into her softness. His mouth slid from hers, his lips caressing her cheek, her jaw, her neck. She couldn’t contain the wanton moan that escaped her lips when his mouth traveled further south to her heaving bosom spilling out of her now ripped bodice. “We have to stop, Faeby’o,” she said when some sense finally returned to her head. “This is wrong.” They didn’t belong together. She was a princess and he was a poor, simple commoner, from a rival kingdom, of all things. “If this is wrong, Stelleia,” he said gruffly, his deep voice dripping with hunger, “I don’t want to be right.” The way he said her name made her inner goddess quiver. At that, she finally allowed herself to be consumed by the flames of passion. She dragged her hands down the hard planes of his chest, making her way down to his throbbing-

“That doesn’t look like this quarter’s fiscal budgetary expenditures.”

He felt the warmth of your body hovering beside him before he heard your voice, startlingly close to his ear.

His heartbeat kicked up when he realized you were leaning into him, reading over his shoulder. Despite being surprised by your sudden appearance, Diavolo subdued his physical reaction. He turned his head calmly to look at you, your face only inches from his, your eyes focused on the book in his hands.

What he couldn’t control was his sharp inhalation of breath when he realized what exactly you were reading over his shoulder. He couldn’t even revel in the feel of your touch and your warmth so close to him before the panic set in. He leaned back and away, giving you as much distance as he could without getting up and out of his seat.

“Do you even know if what you said means anything?” he said amusedly, not a hint of wavering in his voice to betray how nervous you really made him.

“Isn’t that your job?” You hopped onto his desk, crossing your legs and leaning back defiantly, like you were challenging him to come closer. Your boldness knew no bounds, never ceasing to impress the Demon Prince. “What’s that you're reading, anyway? A dirty book?” You wiggled your eyebrows, and Diavolo could feel heat bloom across his face and neck.

There was no point in hiding it from you, not after you plainly saw what he was reading. He closed the book and examined the cover, holding it at an angle so you could look at it with him. The two main characters were locked in a passionate embrace, nearly disrobed. If the title didn’t give it away, the cover illustration certainly confirmed your suspicions.

You gasped. “Diavolo, I am positively scandalized,” you held a hand to your chest, playfully chiding the prince. “And while you should be working. Tsk, tsk.”

“And what,” he said, getting up from his chair, feeling emboldened by your boldness, “are you doing in my office when I am supposed to be working, hmm?” He leaned heavily into your space, one hand dangerously close to your thigh on the desk, the other propped up on his hip. You were like a magnet, he was helpless against the pull he felt toward you. He was warm, so close you swear you could feel the deep hum resonating in his chest.

You held the stack of papers you brought with you up to your chest, almost like a barrier between you and the prince. You blinked up at him, mouth suddenly dry, senses muddled by the spicy scent of him now consuming your thoughts.

“Barbados,” you cleared your throat when you heard your voice crack, “wanted me to bring you more of these forms to sign.”

Not so brave when the tables were turned, Diavolo noted. He chuckled as he pulled them out of your hands and put them on the desk without looking at them. His hand landed on the other side of your hip, effectively trapping you between him and the desk. No parts of you were actually touching him, but you felt like you were on fire just the same.

“So he asked you to be the messenger?” It was a question but he already knew the answer: Barbados, loyal butler that he was, knew he wouldn't be able to ignore you, no matter what boring paperwork you were handling.

“I- I was,” you stuttered, heart hammering in your chest, “in the hallway when he caught me. I figured I had time before my next class anyway…” Your eyes flickered to his mouth for only half a second, but Diavolo caught it. He inhaled sharply, knowing he was teetering precariously on the edge.

Keep the Devildom in order.

That is my job.

He hummed, pushing himself off the desk and stepping away to give you space. “I appreciate your generosity, MC. Thank you for bringing these forms to me.”

Neither of you moved for a beat, afraid of shattering something precious. He looked away first. You understood. You hopped off his desk and slowly headed towards the door.

“I should,” you said as you stood at the door, “probably get to class now.”

He looked at you again and nodded, unable to read the uncertain expression on your face. You lingered a moment longer, like you were waiting for him to say something.

He couldn't.

When you closed the door behind you, Diavolo rubbed his hand across his face and sighed.

He had to get back to work.

(next)

#obey me shall we date #obey me fanfic #obey me diavolo #diavolo x reader #diavolo x mc #merry christmassssss you get the next chapter after almost a month orz with a lil angst too oops #originally posted on ao3 #op #fic

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yes-i-write-fanfiction · 6 months

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Hi I see you’re request are open and I wanna ask that if you can do the tfp cons becoming celebrities after a photo is taken of them and become instantly famous

-Megatron's first initial thought upon learning this is "God damn these organics stupid, I am literally aiming to take over their planet" but then it morphs into "Hmm, maybe I can use this to my benefit?".

His new plan is to turn the human public against the autobots, to portray the decepticons in a sympathetic light and sow discord in the populace. Not everyone is going to side with the decepticons but it will be enough people that it will be disruptive. As the leader of the decepticons, not to mention a former gladiator, Megatron is highly charismatic and can easily turn some starstruck humans into willing servants.

-Starscream enjoys the attention and will manipulate his fans into pitying him. While yes, he would rather be revered, worshipped, he knows from experience that it's easier to gain sympathy from pity than being actually liked. Bemoans his tragic life, how everyone turns against him, really plays up how fragile his armor is in comparison to some of the other cons like Megatron or Breakdown.

Uses this pity to get his human fans to give him things. Energon and spare parts, mainly. He acts all grateful to their faces but the moment he's alone he snickers about how easily deceived these stupid humans are.

-Just like Megatron, Soundwave immediately starts manipulating the media feed to show the decepticon's in a sympathetic, more positive light. While Megatron is the poster boy, Soundwave works behind the scenes, creating thousands of fake accounts to spread the support for decepticons.

While he takes this task as serious as he would any other, Soundwave secretly finds this relaxing since it's a bit more laid back and has less lethal consequences if he just so happens to fail. Assigns a squad of vehicons to become full time photographers.

-Now you just know that Knockout LOVES the attention. He reads every comment and likes every post that mentions how good looking he is. Somehow becomes even more obsessed with his appearance now that the knows that he's got billions of eyes on him. He can't afford to disappoint his fans after all.

Honestly just seeking validation. He's not used to feeling wanted or appreciated so he will take any scrap of positive attention that he can get, even from humans.

-Breakdown finds it embarrassing at first, unsure how to handle all of this sudden attention. Eventually though he realizes that people like him and that they think he's super cool and wow, that just does wonders for his ego. He walks a little prouder, puffs his chest a little higher.

Still finds it awkward to read comments though. These people don't really know him and they mainly go off his general vibes and appearance and that feels a little too shallow for his tastes.

-Out of everyone, Shockwave is the least interested in all of this. Really, he does not care about the opinion of some humans. There's not a lot I can write about his reaction because he simply thinks nothing off it. It might as well not have happened.

#transformers imagine #transformers prime #megatron #starscream #soundwave #knockout #breakdown #shockwave

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arc-misadventures · 7 months

Text

The VTuber

The, ‘Errantry Paladin.’

This was the adopted name of the online persona belonging to a man named, Jaune Arc, and he was a, VTuber. His persona was of a character from the highly popular fictional universe adeptly called, ‘The World of Remnant.’

‘The World of Remnant’ was a famous fantasy series than went from a novel written by the famous author, Ozma Wizradem, to an entire book series that sadly was never finished due to his untimely death due to the flu. But, his legacy lived on through spin off novels written by his children, and future authors, comic book writers, RPG creators, to video game designers, and full length feature film directors, and tv series producers of various makes. Peoples love for, ‘The World of Remnant has lasted for decades, and the, VTuber’s embracement were just the latest avatars to this wondrous world.

Through the vast depths of, ‘The World of Remnant’ their were dozens of, VTuber’s who inhabited the world of Remnant. These VTuber’s, or ‘Hunters’ as they called themselves to align along with the in universe lore. Each exploring the world in their own unique way.

Each, Hunter belonged to an agency often referred to as a, ‘Huntsmen Academy.’ The Academy’s each belonged to one of the four nation states of, Remnant. There was the academy of, Vale: Beacon Academy. The academy of, Vacuo, Shade Academy. The academy of, Atlas, and Mantle: Atlas Academy. And, lastly the academy of, Mistral: Haven Academy.

The Academies/Agencies each served a purpose of supporting, and aiding the various Hunters/Vtubers in their collective groups, by monitoring, and supporting the actions of each individual. Helping in collaborations, or in producing events, music videos, and so forth. It was a prestigious honour to gain entrance into one of these four academies/agencies to help boost themselves up, and really create a name for themselves. However, one didn’t need to join on of the academies to create a name for oneself.

For there was a, ‘Fifth Academy.’

In the lore of, ‘World of Remnant’ their was a secret organization know as the, ‘Grimm Cabal.’ A organization that sought to sow discord, and chaos throughout the kingdoms, for the their quest to fo fill their desires to destroy the world itself.

This is all fictional of course. In the real world, ‘The Grimm Cabal’ is just the name of another, VTuber agency, that was just like the rest of them.

All these, Hunters/Vtubers have their team, and their Academies, or friends of other Academies, and Teams they like do be around. Each sharing in the joys, and pains as they went about their days. Laughing, loving, crying, and hating within the moments they each individually, or collectively come across.

For all, but one that is…

For the, ‘Errantry Paladin,’ ‘The Broken Paladin,’ or simply, ‘Errant,’ was the outsider. For he was part of no, Academy, nor secret, Cabal. He simply stood alone, and went where he wanted, and did what he wanted to do. He did occasionally joined members from any group for a short while, but he never stayed for long.

Why you may ask? For many have asked, but the answer is always the same: ‘I just prefer not to.’

A answer that answers nothing, but asks everything.

And yet, while he may stand alone, his channel was among the largest their was. Thousands of people tuned in to watch his live streams; Some people came to watch him, and the games he played. Others came to listen to him, and what many called, the ‘soothing tone of voice’ he carried. Others because it was a relaxing to watch him in the background while they carried on with the various day-to-day activities during their lives.

And, then there were the, ‘Fair Maidens.’ A self proclaimed group, of mostly woman, who flocked towards him, and throw themselves upon him in a quest to obtain his affection.

Or, to simplify: The female equivalent of, ‘Simps.’

There are many things people came to see, and experience when watching the escapades of the, ‘Errantry Paladin.’ Things his viewers, and fellow, VTubers watched with baited breath, overflowing excitement, and anticipation.

And, the, ‘Errantry Paladin,’ Jaune Arc was the one who was always the most excited to see what would come next.

~~~

So… What if, Jaune Arc was a, VTuber? Sounds interesting, no?

So, lets take a little break from everything else; I’m grinding my gears on anything else I’m trying to write.

So. Feel free to ask questions to get the ball rolling. But, I want to do stories involving the other characters of, RWBY being, VTubers as well. So in order to do that, I need your help.

I am absolutely shit at naming anything! RedReaper as, Ruby’s, VTuber name is pretty shit. And, I need these people to have some cool nicknames for their, VTuber personas. So, this is where you guys come into play!

You guys give me a nickname, or two for a character, and I’ll collect them, and put them into a pole, and let you decide which name is best. Okay?

Great, lets have some fun then!

#rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose

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gaylactic-fire · 10 months

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Hi hello, I've got a question, what that heck happened this week?? I haven't been active in awhile and I just logged back in here to follow an artist from tiktok, and I happened to see the conservative discord server screenshots on my "your tags" section. Is possible to get the sparks note version of what happened? (Sorry if the ask sounds weird, not very good at putting my thoughts into words)

Sorry I only answered this a few days later! You might already know what's happening by now, but in case you didn't I'll give you a TLDR:

- Tumblr user alasse-earfalas makes a post on LU's main tag advertising a conservative christian LU / LoZ server. She claims to want a safe space for those with similar views. What really catches people's attention is a part of the post that speaks about "Pride ideology" and how such "predatory" views aren't allowed in the server. In the same section she talks about wanting a space where characters are not "queered into oblivion." The vibes are utterly rancid.

- LU fandom immediately begins spiteposting. Everyone and their mother starts making LU queer headcanons or posts showing their support for the queer community. The memes flood in. "Queered into oblivion." is immediately reclaimed and added to people's lexicons. People are speedrunning how fast they can get banned off the server. There's almost a unanimous effort to make fun of bigots.

- Further controversy ensues under the surface. As it turns out, several religious people in the fandom had been interacting with Alasse and other people in the conservative server. It was impossible to know whether or not they shared similar views, but you can't blame people's caution. When questioned whether their blogs were safe for queer people, some gave very vague answers that pretty much dialed down to "I love everyone" or "I don't wanna talk about it." Neutrality in such instances is not reassuring for queer people, especially when the other side is claiming we are predatory. Afaik some people have redacted their statements or gone on to further clarify things. But some people still take a firmly neutral stance on the matter. (Don't ask who I haven't been following closely enough to know).

- A few days later Alasse comes back with a follow-up statement addressing the server. She pulls a mix between "gay people I respect VS gay people I don't respect." and "I'm not homophobic I have a gay friend." By stating that the server is not homophobic, but simply does not support the pride movement. Which is allegedly pushing to show porn to kids in school. When asked for a source on such a shocking claim someone on the server cites Fucking Matt Walsh rather than a non-biased and or scientific article. The transphobia also pops out when she claims the pride movement is trying to push surgeries on children (It's not. Children do not get gender realignment surgeries. You can find this out from five minutes on google). Addressing "queered into oblivion." Alasse goes on a rant about "queerwashing" characters, stating the Links are canonically straight and making them queer invalidates their identity. Alasse conveniently forgets that Nintendo has never canonically given Link a partner. She also forgets that bisexuality, asexuality and other sexualities that may include romantic attraction to the opposite sex do, in fact, exist. The rest of the post is whining about people joining the server to troll and basically just her reaping what she sowed for advertising on Tumblr Dot Com.

Aside for further outrage and memes, that's pretty much where we're up to so far. Things are dying down and hopefully the bigots will keep to their own corner and or fuck off from the fandom entirely.

#askbox #long post #Fuck it I'll tag as LU for anyone who hasnt been keeping up lol #linked universe #feel free to add any tidbits i missed

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blues824 · 1 year

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The Remarried Empress cast with a GN!Tomura Shigaraki!Reader; they're childish and prone to violent outbursts, tend to scratch their neck/face to the point of bleeding, and can turn things to dust just with a mere touch of all five fingers. But, as deeply hidden as it may be, they do still have a heart and can care for people they trust.

The Empress was the first to show them kindness so they look up to her tremendously (to the point it can be a little...worrying). They don't like seeing her upset, it makes them itchy and when they're itchy, they feel an almost impossible-to-ignore urge to destroy everything that makes her sad.

They slowly mature into a more calmer but no less dangerous and even more cunning person, someone the Empress can be proud of; someone who knows what they want and what they have to do to get it.

They find themselves sowing small seeds of discord, making the Western Kingdom's plan (thought to be unknowingly (they have their ways of finding out now)) much easier.

They will make the Empress happy; to do that, they have to absolutely ruin the Emperor.

Preface: You were found by the Empress in the Palace Gardens, and your neck was bleeding to a concerning degree. As a result, you had won the compassion of Navier and she took you inside and tended to you.

Sovieshu

When he had found out that his wife took in a whole stranger because they were hurt, he was starting to see the problems with his own actions in taking in Rashta. Your raspy voice was unnerving, and the fact that you had a habit of scratching your neck to the point where it scarred was very disturbing as well.

Plus, you were not one of his imperial subjects, so he had no jurisdiction over you. You were protected by the High Priest. So when you started threatening his life as well as Rashta’s, he couldn’t put you in your place because you had no place anyway. You have even demonstrated the power you had by destroying a nearby table.

You were dedicated to Navier, which means that she had a dangerous ally on her side. As time passed on, you were becoming stronger but more mature. But you also grew more cunning. You would steal Her Imperial Majesty’s attention more and more, causing a rift in her and Sovieshu’s already rocky relationship.

He absolutely despised you whenever you would remind him that you had more physical power than he did. In just one touch, he could be reduced to nothing but dust. Then Rashta would be thrown out of the palace as if she were a bucket of waste. Maybe you would, because it would make the Empress happy.

Rashta

She thought you were threatening and horrifying. She tried showing kindness, but you were honestly just so rude. You threatened her life on multiple occasions, and to really give her a fright you disintegrated one of her necklaces as though it weren’t worth anything of true value.

Rashta often tried to get Sovieshu to punish you in some way, but only the High Priest had any jurisdiction over you because you were not a resident of this land. Plus, the High Priest was very hard to reach over such frivolous and ridiculous matters such as this. In addition to that, she had no proof against you.

Oh, but you were very dedicated to Navier. Because of the power you both had together, she was scared. On Her order, you would bring the Empire to the ground, and the young mistress was terrified for her life everyday. All of the stress wasn’t good for the baby, and her health deteriorated rapidly.

This was a great cause for concern because if the mother is not doing well, then the baby is definitely not doing well either. However, you didn’t care. You would bring the end of the Earth as a whole so long as you were given the order.

Navier

She was the one who found you and took you in. She held a damp cloth to your neck and grabbed a lot of moisturizer so your skin wasn’t as dry. Her royal physician had helped with a prescription that would help you with your constant itchiness, and you were grateful for the kindness that she had shown you thus far.

Honestly, if you were to ask Navier, she would say that you were dedicated to a very concerning degree. You would use your quirk whenever she needed to be rid of something. However, she was rubbing off on you and you grew calmer and more mature. She is proud of how far you have come in such a short amount of time, and if you were a dog your tail would be wagging.

You were a huge part in planning her escape to the Western Kingdom. You had experience with this sort of thing, so you were the obvious choice for the job. You were waiting at the gates because you had heard that Sovieshu was planning to not let her remarry to Heinrey.

If someone went wondering why all the guards went missing all of a sudden, they didn’t voice any concern because they probably already knew that the extra dust in the courtyard were the fallen soldiers that had the audacity to get in the way of Her Formerly Imperial Majesty.

Heinrey

He wasn’t scared because he knew that his Queen trusted you for a reason. When he came in his bird form, you knew who he was. After all, you weren’t oblivious. You weren’t very surprised, either. However, because you knew that Heinrey was better for Her Imperial Majesty than Sovieshu could ever be.

But, what he was scared of was your abilities. You often wore proper hawk gloves whenever he came in as Queen because 1) you didn’t want your hands getting scratched up by his talons, and 2) you didn’t want to risk the possibility of disintegrating him.

You can not tell me that he didn’t ask about your scratching habit. He even fetched some moisturizing ointments that come from the Western Kingdom because he was very concerned about the itchiness coming from how dry your skin was. You did get slightly annoyed at the kind-of-a-gag-gift, but those ointments worked miracles.

Heinrey was grateful that you had chosen to help him in his mission to get Navier to the Western Kingdom so that the two could be wed. Your quirk was becoming very useful, very quickly. You could easily disintegrate the guards and their weapons without any physical consequence, and you quickly put on your gloves and hopped into the carriage as it left.

#sovieshu vict x reader #sovieshu vict #emperor sovieshu #sovieshu x reader #sovieshu #rashta x reader #rashta #remarried empress #the remarried empress #the remarried empress x reader #remarried empress x reader #navier trovi x reader #empress navier #navier trovi #navier x reader #navier #heinrey x reader #heinrey

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tribbetherium · 9 months

Text

The Middle Temperocene: 150 million years + 1000 years post-establishment

What Measure Is A Moouk: An Army Of Almost-People

Evolution was not a straight line. It was a tree, that sprouted at a root, and branched off many times, some branches lower down the stem splitting off earlier than others, some continuing to grow and split further, others staying where they were.

None were more or less-evolved than any other. Some merely changed more, others stayed the same. On this world of unimaginable diversity, some creatures have changed little from the first pioneers released upon the world, small, scurrying rodents akin to the first forebearers. Others had changed beyond recognition, shaped by the forces of the world around, pushed by the quest to survive, not to become bigger, better, stronger or smarter, but merely to better pass on their genes, whatever worked.

And the diversity of the planet was but a mere side effect of that.

It comes as not any surprise thus, when thinking minds arose for the third time in the planet, minds capable of perception, of thought, of belief, there was no clear division between being and beast. There was a spectrum, a very blurred line, between a thinking person and a very smart animal. A hazy boundary that had much potential for darkness.

----------

Ashfall overlooked the gathered masses of his pack, still fresh from a crippling defeat. His forces numbered at but less than a hundred, perhaps less given the casualties. And the Thems numbered more than twice that.

Thems, united. Combined, with all their complementing strengths synchronized to devastating effect. Would they come to the valley? The valley of the Us? Would the Us be trampled should the Them come to siege in turn?

Ashfall glanced at his pack, many wounded, and still recovering.

He looked at his mate Wildwind, her shoulder wound still swollen, and at his son Darklight, whose wounded eye might never see again.

He felt a hint of regret.

He didn't see them the way he had seen Wind-Storm and Whitesmoke. But now, he didn't want them to be another Wind-Storm and Whitesmoke.

To the Thems, he was a monster.

To the Us, he was a leader. A protector.

"Not enough. Us, few." noted Goldeye, one of his higher-ranking fighters.

"Them, many. Too many!" Ashfall growled. The urgency to destroy them now, now as they were deadlier, posed more danger to his pack than ever, was never more evident. Yet how? If he attacked again now, it would be a massacre.

He had shown Them no mercy, and now the tide had turned, he did not expect any from Them.

"Us need more!" he barked in frustration. "Not enough!"

"Us need...Them." Goldeye suggested.

Ashfall's ears perked up at the suggestion. "Other Them? Make fight? For Us?"

"Them fight one another," Goldeye added.

"No. They together! Them is one now! As one!"

"Some pack, other pack, enemy?"

"Too smart now. Them...learn."

Ashfall knew that trying to sow discord in the foe was not an option.

Their ideals were strong, and as word of the coastfolk's victory spread, more and more packs began to band together.

Lies and deception were never the Outlanders' specialty. They fought with brute force.

What they needed was more brute force. More jaws, more teeth.

And it was a wild idea, perhaps even an insane one, but Ashfall and Goldeye knew where he might find what he sought.

---------

"They are Thems?" asked Wildwind, as Ashfall spread his word to the rest of the pack, the following morning.

"They are moouk."

Moouk was a term they reserved for a particular kind of Thems. The other Thems that looked even less like the Us. Dwelling in the forests in great numbers, preying upon the wild horn-herders that lived there.

Hideous, malformed things, snouts too long, heads too small. Vile creatures, savages, who ate their dung and and scavenged their dead and mated with their own kin.

Smarter than other beasts in their own right, yet still servants of instinct. Devoid of morals, like a wild child.

And perhaps, with a show of dominance, servants of the Us. Taught like child.

"Make moouk fight for Us? How?" asked Darklight.

"Simple things. Stupid things," Ashfall mused.

"Wild things," Dungstain cautiously chimed in.

"Exactly!" Goldeye exclaimed. "Better than other Thems."

"Smart enough...to follow. Not smart enough...to question."

Ashfall gave Dungstain a bitter aside glare.

"How? How plan them? How call them to us?" Wildwind asked.

"Fight them. Fight their strongest. Until they obey."

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

The saddled baskerville occupied a very precarious place in the houndfolk's culture. For it was a not-quite-person. An almost-person. A beast that was too being to be considered beast. A being too beast to consider being.

Some could call truces with them, by learning their simple words. Yet they told no stories, pondered not the world with tales, or expressed deeper feelings.

They used tools, but did not invent or improvise, at least not to such a degree.

They solved problems, but did not imagine or speculate.

They cared for their kin, but of instinctive duty.

Like grown pups who could not learn any more.

To some tribes of the dark-ears, they could be spoken to to some extent. Yet they could not be fully accepted or trusted. They still were wild creatures, slaves to basal urges, unpredictable. They knew not right or wrong, good from evil. And it was a fact the dark-ears respected.

That their wild kin would always be wild, and left to live their lives in their own devices.

Yet Ashfall had other plans.

-------

The red-sun shone alone in the dim crimson sky, casting its bloody hue over the needles of the conifer trees of the southern woods. There, their pointed shapes and darkened trunks cast irregular shadows upon the forest floor, where unusual residents trod about in the cover of the sanguine dusk.

The leader of a moouk-pack had just returned from an unsuccessful hunt, concerned only with reaching his den,resting and recovering his strength from the exertion for the next hunt. He gave a momentary pause, and glanced up at the sky--not to ponder its mysteries, or to dream of tales of forces and beings unseen, but merely judge the position of the red-sun to help him find his way.

He was simple-minded and practical. Imagined thoughts would not feed him today.

He had no name, for the moouk knew not what names were. They identified themselves with simple calls of "friend" to their packmates to signify they were not a threat.

His mate greeted him at the entrance of the den.

"Food," she called.

"No food," came the reply, and she ducked back down to continue digging out the den.

That was the extent of the moouk's conversations. Brief exchanges of concrete information. Alarm calls to warn of danger, sharp barks of mothers to call their young, courtship calls to impress a potential mate. No songs speaking words, or stories of gods and spirits, or puzzles or riddles or jokes. Just a simple straightforward fact with no other meaning.

The den the pair resided in had once belonged to another moouk with pups. They had driven her out by force, and her pups as well, out alone to who knows where to brave the dangerous outside world and whose fates were unknown.

Were they cruel, or evil, for doing so? They knew not even the meaning ot the word. It was something they did, without regret. It was just what they must do, always done, to survive, and they never thought otherwise.

They were but agents of nature's neutral indifference.

They were no more cruel or wicked than flyer-beasts snatching sea-creatures from the waves, hauling them to their nests to strip them of flesh while they squirmed and struggled for breath in the dry air.

They were no more malicious than the scaly-creepers that slithered into the burrows of small digger-beasts and pumped their squealing quarry full of venom.

And to the moouk, to drive off a a rival to wander homeless and hungry, was but a natural thing to do.

Had they gotten the chance, they would even have preyed upon her pups. For the sake of reducing rivals to their own pups in the future.

They had just enough brain to anticipate those effects and what good it would do them-- but not enough to understand why that would be wrong.

They were creatures of habit, who hunted when they hungered, who courted when the time came to mate, who reared their young and gave them care, only to drive them away without further concern when the next pups came.

Agents of a cycle, that was never broken, until now.

There was movement in the distance.

A terrible howl broke the air, sending the moouk pair into alert. There were intruders in their territory!

They stood their ground, snarling, ready to attack mercilessly whatever it was that threatened them. Perhaps a rival of their own kind, or the fold-paws that too were their enemies.

But this time, it was something far beyond their simple comprehension.

Other fellow hunt-beasts, more numerous than ever before. Creatures like them, yet strange, yet wrong, with flat short faces and big bulbous heads, who made noises more complex than what the moouk could understand.

They came from all directions, rounding them up. From further away, others like them, other moouk, were rounded up, whose presence in their territory would have been unwelcome, had the big-headed invaders not been harrying them too.

They resisted, snarling, as strips of ropy hide were thrown over them, tying them in place.

What did they want?

What did they need?

The moouk did not understand. All that crossed his moderate brain was the thought of escape and retaliation.

The thought of survival.

He resisted, crying out, as he was bound by the invaders. He howled for assistance, but none came.

In the distance, his mate had fled. She paused, looked back and cried out. In a simple, primal, momentary way, she cried in grief.

But the instinct of self-preservation overrode her loyalty, and she fled, deep into the forest, where the attackers did not follow.

In days to come, she would concern herself less of his disappearance, and again more with finding food. In time she would court another again. And she would forget.

The beasts of the wild did not dwell on the past.

-------

Atop a small raised hill, Ashfall surveyed his pack, as they commenced their latest conquest.

Dungstain, surprisingly had joined the fray eagerly, despite his growing contempt for Ashfall. He was here but for the chance to gleefuly wreak brutality upon the hapless moouk.

"Do not kill them." Ashfall warned. "Need...alive."

Dungstain paused in momentary disappointment. At least he got to partake of the twisted joy of war, somewhat.

Around them, Outlanders ran rings around the fleeing moouk, forcing them to gather, some bringing torches, to frighten the moouk with flame.

Like the dark-ears, the Outlanders had eventually learned to make use of the inedible gut and sinew of the horn-herders they had rustled from the highbrows. Drying them in the hot sunlight, tearing them into long, thin strips, to make collars and ropes.

Yet not for their use. These were not for protection, but for control.

Some Outlanders left the woods, towing tethered moouk with them, two for each captive. Some, which struggled defiantly, others, which complied meekly, their wild spirit broken, too exhausted to resist any longer.

And aside from crafting the ropes, there was one other thing some of the Outlanders could do like the dark-ears did.

"Follow." Goldeye said, as a large male moouk was brought before him. Not in his own words...but in the simple, rudimentary tongue of the moouk, of but few vocabulary of barely a hundred "words".

Simple, infantile words like "follow, stay, leave, friend, fight, run, food."

"Leave!" the moouk cried in retaliation.

In response, Goldeye pounced on the captive, restrained by rope by two other Outlanders. He sank his teeth into the moouk's shoulder, who cried out in pain.

"Follow!" He demanded again, through bloodstained lips.

"Leave," was again the reply.

Thus came another painful bite.

And another, and another, each time the moouk resisted. Each time he defied.

Until, even in his primitive brain, he made the connection.

"FOLLOW!" roared Goldeye.

There was a pause.

"...f-follow..." the moouk whimpered at last, knowing it was the only way for the pain to stop.

Goldeye pinned the captive's head to the floor with his forepaw, in a display of dominance, and sprayed him, as one would spray a tree to mark ownership, branding him with their scent.

He belonged to them now.

-------

The moouk were plentiful, for they lived wild, and bred often. When they came in heat, they would mate without a second thought. Every two seasons they came to heat and bore a litter in the spring and in the fall, bigger than those of the houndfolk, four to six apiece.

A failsafe. Because many did not survive.

But if made to survive, beyond the wills of nature, there could be many of them.

Born into a world where they will never know freedom.

Goldeye and Ashfall watched, as some of the Outlanders came forth from the woods, carrying moouk-pups by the scruffs of their necks. It had been their breeding season.

"Young ones. Easy to teach." Goldeye remarked.

"Teach fight. For war." Ashfall responded.

Taught to know that to obey would be in their best interest.

Taught since puphood to feel helpless against their masters.

Their owners.

Ashfall did not want any more of his pack, of his Us, to fall against the Them. No more Wind-Storms, or Whitesmokes, to befell them.

But these nameless beasts were not Us.

They were Thems, the lowest kind of Thems, and they were many.

They could die, and he would not care.

They could fall in place of his people, and there would be many more.

The Outlanders, though vicious, valued their own, their fellow people.

These were not their own.

These were not people.

They were moouk.

--------

#speculative evolution #speculative biology #spec evo #speculative zoology #hamster's paradise #the calliducyon saga

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