#if you're slightly unhinged it can't hurt you as much right? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yeyinde · 11 months

Note

I know this would be terribly inaccurate and morally wrong, but it's taking too much space up in my brain and I can't write NSFW to save my life and I'll stop rambling and get to the point about this random hoe ass dream I had the other night about Bear (Graves).

But that table in the middle of their storage area room thing (with the cages)? Imagine getting railed on that table. Horrible consequences if you're caught, but in the moment that doesn't matter.

I didn't even really clock the morally wrong portion of this until just now—I just immediately started writing it.

Warnings: MATURE | 18+ — pseudo exhibition kink, corruption (as in, MC does everything possible to break Bear), risk-seeking behaviour; light smut Word Count: 2,2k Notes: it's been so long since I wrote smut that I kinda forgot how. alsoooooooo. it's deffo early season 2 Bear. With the beard and the unhinged madness and tragic angst. Okay? Okay.

It's a whim.

One of those terrible ideas you sometimes get—like the insatiable curiosity to know what it would feel like to snuff out an open flame between your thumb and forefinger, or lick the anode and cathode of a 9V battery just for the thrill of it. The electric hum of recklessness that surges through your veins, pitched right between the accompanying high of a short-lived adrenaline rush. An addictive sense of danger that isn't really dangerous.

It isn't enough to kill you, or cause any severe injuries—no. You're not stupid. It's just one of those passing no good, bad, and very terrible ideas that leak from that place inside your head where madness and idiocy spool.

Sometimes, it doesn't even hurt.

(But you've always liked it better when it does.)

This, then, must be that.

This, of course, being:

Bear—so austere, so stalwart—bracing his thick fingers against the back of your neck, palm so wide it swallows you whole. Clipped nails pinching your skin when he digs in tight, holding on to you as he fucks you stupid, fucks you senseless against a metal table, perfectly perched in the middle of the room like an altar.

His nails cut a scratch on your hip when he pulls you back by the bone to meet his heavy, hurried thrusts, growling low in his throat at the madness of this all. The danger. The recklessness.

Eyes oscillating between the open doorway split into three possible entry points where anyone—Chase, Trevor, Buddha, Caulder—could walk in and see, catching Bear fucking you over a table; and you—

Bent over, fingers scratching at the linoleum beneath your hands, keening desperately for more.

It's more brutal than you'd expect him to be considering where you are, where he is, but there's a weight to the way he pounds into you, a palpable sense of urgency, and need. Rapacious, you think, and wonder if it's the tantalising aspect of exhibitionism, the fear of getting caught, that brims white-hot in the balmy air between you, or if it's the setting alone that threatens to undo him.

Fucking out in the open—with a man who yelped when you tried to ride him on the bed of his stupid pickup truck under the stars; vanilla incarnate, all American apple pie left to cool on an open windowsill in the heartland—is probably as close to true trouble as a man like him, the one bent over you now, has come before. You wonder if this is his Saddam. If he scents brimstone in the air when he curls over you, staining your skin with droplets of sweat that pools down from his brow, drips off his temples.

It was that same sweat that started it all.

Anger carved canyons into his forehead, ploughing five neat, little lines through tanned skin—flushed slightly pink near his hairline, and bleeding down across the bridge of his nose, the patch of skin between his lash line and beard, undoubtedly from standing on the sun-beaten shores of Virginia Beach all morning. The sweat that beaded across his skin was patchy, drying into patches of congealed salt above his brow, but dripping down his temples in rivulets of exertion, and cutting a clear path to his jaw, where it fell, pooling like a lagoon in the dips of his collarbones.

You wanted to lick it off.

An odd thought considering the arched reprimand he was in the middle of doling out. Sharp, slurred words of can't be here, and reckless, all undercut with an air of something balmy, something hot that simmers below the surface.

His eyes flashed, cool blue to cobalt, when you lifted your shoulder in a lazy, half-hearted shrug, shirt slipping down, exposing skin to his irritated gaze, and, oh. Oh.

The scorching heat you felt wafting off of him in puffs of humid air had little to do with temperature, with anger.

The words, then, took on a new meaning.

Can't be here, can't do this here. Reckless.

And so, you leaned up on the tips of your toes, and flicked your tongue across his skin, eyes lidded and heavy as the briny tang of sweat and seawater flooded your senses.

It was surprising that he let you. That after some more growling protests about shame, and public decency, he quieted fairly quickly when you slipped your hand into his trousers, letting the heft of him fill your palm.

An incorruptible man, corrupted.

Opposites attract, you think, and then bite the notion in half when he slides in as deep as he can go, husking out a muted fuck, fuck, fuck, feels so fuckin' good into your shoulder. Opposites, maybe. But something about the way he grabs you hard enough to leave marks on your bones, drags you back into his harsh ruts, his frantic pace, makes you think something reckless, something damning, lives inside him, too.

(He never would have let you tug his trousers down over his hips, let you arch over the table for him, if he didn't, after all.)

"This is—" his breath is humid on your skin, hands spasming over your flesh. You taste clarity in his words. Cognisance bleeds into them, spilling panic, and frenzied worry over your flesh. "This is stupid. We're gonna get caught—"

He huffs, and the rough scratch of his beard skates over your skin when he mouths against the curve of your bone.

There is a moment when you think he might pull away. Where the urge, the drive, to be proper and pious, prim and good, brim up through the overwhelming dizziness of cacoëthes that spindles through your marrow, but you arch into him until you're pressed taut to his hips, full and gasping from having big Bear inside of you this deep, and tuck it back into the box it snuck out of.

There's no place for decency when he has you bent over a table where anyone can wander past and see how good you take him.

So, you push back against him, taking him in as deep as you can, and then deeper still when his hips stutter at the sudden push. It edges into too much when he's pressed flush against the soft curve of your ass, but you swallow down the whimper, and rock back on your heels, swaying against him until all you see is hazy gunmetal swimming in front of your eyes.

It's always on that uneven edge of pain with Bear—dual sensations of too much intermixed with a heady thrum of pleasure that buffers out everything. A test of your mettle. He quizzes you on the limits of your resolve when he bucks his hips, sliding inside as deeply as he can go. Eking out a place within you that you might have been untouched, undiscovered, until him.

Where his tests are physical—pushing into you as deep as he can, until you swallow him whole—you excel in destruction. The erosion of propriety. His self-control.

(He shatters so prettily in your hands, like a supernova scattering across the inky black sky.)

This, then, is his test.

And he clues into it almost as quickly as the plan formed inside your head, spooling fast and recklessly in that place that convinces you that adrenaline is your friend, and that climbing higher is always the goal. The spot inside that makes you always pick dare instead of truth.

Bear knows—knew—of your plans when you pressed your lips to his, and still let you. A quick glance to the open doorway as you slide your tongue against his. The press of his fingers on the bow of your lips, a firm admonishment not to be too loud.

You could take it as:

Don't let us get caught.

And you do. But you also hear the unsaid words murmured into your ear when he fucked you harder, hips pistoning into you as if daring you to make a sound:

Don't let this end too soon.

"You're so bad, Bear," you coo, words tangled in pleasure as the blunt head of his cock batters into that spot behind your navel that never fails to make you sing. It rises. A quick flash of heat roiling in your belly; the whine of a coil being pulled too tight. Liquid bliss in red-hot agony. "Fucking me like this. I bet you want them to see. I bet you want them to watch you fuck me, don't you?"

The hiccup in your voice belies the accusations in your words. A tremulous, teasing warble that is met with his sharp, heady groan.

"Oh, f–fuck—"

He's close. You feel him swell. Hear the rumble in chest as he loses that mechanical rhythm; a stutter of his breath, his hips. The bones in your hip ache when he digs in tight, holding you still as he pounds you with a fury unmatched by anyone else you'd ever known. He takes you like he's working out a problem. Like he's on the opposite lines of an allegiance, and is trying to fuck you stupid enough to ramble out the answers to the questions he asks. It disintegrates into madness. Desperation. His measured thrusts grow sloppy. His breaths ragged.

The implosion of his self-control is almost more euphoric than the flood of molten pleasure blooming in your core. Your release offset by the unignorable crumbling of his resolve.

"Come for me, Bear," you pant, your breath whitening the gunmetal table with plumes of condensation. "Come for me—"

His hand presses against the smooth slope of your neck, pushing your cheek into the slick table. His thick fingers spasm as he grows frantic, desperately chasing his own end in your spasming body, ready to follow you—quick and reckless—over the edge of a precipice, filled with an adrenaline-rush spiking through the pleasure.

Things just feel better when it's dangerous, after all.

Bear comes with a groan he can bare smother, pulling your hips back into his as he spends himself inside of you, the punchy grunts of a well-earned victory tumbling from his lips. The sound bounces off the condensation-slick walls, renting the air in two. His heavy breaths are magnified in the sudden absence of silence that always seems to follow a loud sound.

His misery-filled groan is muffled by the back of your crown when he tips forward, and buries his face into your hair. In his defeat, you victory. A sweet damnation that you relish as he struggles to regain footing after losing control. His brassbound resolve is still in tatters, and spilled across the back of the table he'll use tomorrow with everyone else, haunted by the images of you spread out and willing as he tries to pretend he doesn't know what it feels like to grip the end of the table and fuck you senseless in a room designed to amplify all sound.

You grin into the metal when he husks out a mangled fuck into your sweat-slicked hair. It reeks of resignation. Of a man who stood so long on the crown of propriety slinking down to the depths of hedonism and bliss. Breaking the rules feels almost as good as fucking on top of them, and your mind races with all the ways you can break him again.

And Bear, as usual, has a tap into that place inside that leaks bad ideas, and can only shake his head with a huff.

He doesn't even bother saying no.

(Caulder owes you ten bucks. It seems you can teach an old, pious seal new tricks.)

Your legs are still shaking like a newborn fawn. You feel him inside you still, and the phantom stretch of him touching places and pieces of yourself he really shouldn't makes you quiver. The ache in your thighs is the good kind, though. The lasting impression of success after obtaining exactly what you set out to do.

Climbing a mountain. Running five miles. Fucking Bear Graves in the locker room with everyone else just a breath away.

(Check, check, and check—)

He helps you into the truck, eyes sweeping over your shoulder to look for anyone else in the parking lot who might ask questions. Solid, reasonable ones like why do you stink like sex? and did you just fuck them in the locker room, Bear?

You could try and reassure him that it's empty. That no one cares. That it's all in his head.

But you like the clench of his jaw, the flash of teeth when you giggle at him. Once the high of his release comes down, anger will follow. The kind that makes him loom. He'll lecture you about safety and decorum and not to sneak into his work to fuck him—

He'll wind himself up. Get himself nice and heated. He'll see it as a question to his authority. A tremor in his self-control.

And to regain the footing he lost—

Well.

It'll be a good night for you.

"You're a bad influence," he mumbles into your jaw, words muffled by his heavy breath he buckles you in.

You count each line in his forehead as a win, and try not to preen. "You love it."

#Joe Graves #Joe Graves x Reader #Bear Graves x Reader #i hate editing my stuff and tagging things #and that is all #Bear Graves #Bear x You

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wincestdailyheadcanons · 1 year

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TW: abusive relationship, dubcon, strangulation, murder, emotional/mental abuse, DEAN IS NOT A GOOD GUY)

Wincest Unhinged #7 Sam's scared, he's so fucking scared.

"If you love me, you'll let me do this." Dean says low into his ear.

"I do…I do love you, I'm just…"

Dean kisses his neck; "You don't trust me after all I've done for you?" He sounds hurt. Sam quickly shakes his head; "No, no, I do it's just…it's just a lot."

"If you can't do it, just say so. I can find someone else, and it'll be your fault. Just like last time."

Last time. The last time Sam said no to one of Dean's games. Dean offered Sam a beer, told him it was okay, he understood, and within a few minutes, Sam felt so fucking groggy. Dean came up behind him and wrapped an arm across his chest, pulling him backwards.

"I love you."

Dean held him, the embrace loving and possessive.

Something was wrong. Very, very, wrong.

"It'll take effect in a minute, don't worry, you'll be fine." Dean promised.

"What?" Sam slurred, trying to get his eyes to focus.

If Dean said something, Sam doesn't remember.

Sam remembers waking up, handcuffed to a bed. He remembers seeing someone, a man he didn't know laying beside him, staring at him without blinking, his eyes rolled back slightly, his mouth hung open.

He was dead.

But more horrifying, he looked like Sam.

"He won't hurt you, he can't." Dean promised. Sam jerked his head to the side, looking at his brother. "What did you do?! What the fuck did you do?!"

Sam thrashed on the bed, pulling at the cuffs. Dean covered Sam's mouth, fingers pressing so hard, Sam knew there would be bruises.

Dean pressed his forehead against Sam's; "Shh…Sammy, you need to be very, very, quiet, and listen to me. I need to take a shower."

Sam gave Dean a confused look.

"I am going to let you go, and I'm going to take a shower. In that time I want you to make a decision. You can either help me clean up this mess as an apology for the trouble you caused or you can call the police. But I promise you, I will not be going to jail."

Dean didn't even give the option of Sam running.

They both knew he wouldn't.

Dean took a step back, releasing Sam.

"Tell me you understand."

Sam bites his lip and nods; "Ill help."

"Thats my boy."

Sam got into the shower with his brother, washed his skin clean, kissed his fingertips, let Dean push those same fingers into him, and worked him open, slow and gentle.

"Feel good, doesn't it, baby boy? He didn't feel as good as you. You're so much tighter…"

Sam let out a soft moan, rolling his hips back.

"Kid didn't tighten up until I had my hands on his throat."

Dean curled his fingers around Sam's cock, pumping him, and fuck, it feels so fucking good.

"There's no shame in telling big brother what you need."

Sam pushes back, trying to get Dean's fingers deeper, trying to get him to touch that spot.

He's getting off on the hands that just strangled someone. He knows this. But Sam can't get past the urge to fuck.

When he begs for Dean, so embarrassingly needy, Dean looks proud.

That was the last time. This is now.

Right now Dean has him naked on the bed, working him open, pushing the head of his cock in and out of Sam's unprepped hole.

Dean doesn't speak, doesn't acknowledge that Sam is in pain, hell he seems to be enjoying it a little more because of the noises Sam makes.

'You can say no or stop at any time, but you know the consequences.'

"Dean, Dean, please," Sam chokes out, voice breaking, " I wanna…" He pushes against Dean's chest.

Dean kissed him, cutting off his words; "You know I won't let anything happen to you, why don't you trust me? Don't you love me?"

He does, he loves and trusts Dean so fucking much. "I do…I promise I do…"

"Then dont fight me."

Before Sam could react Dean grabbed his throat, Sam's hands flying instinctively to grab Dean's arms as his air was cut off

"Relax." Dean growls, and gives a hard painful thrust pushing the entire length of his cock in at once.

Dean moans, and when Sam lets his arms fall to the sides, Dean gives Sam that same look of pride he gave before, and for just a moment, the satisfaction that Sam made Dean happy, overshadowed the fear and panic of not being able to breathe.

Then Dean squeezed tighter, rolling his hips. "Feel so fucking good, doing great Sammy, little more, almost there…"

Despite his promise, Sam grabs at Dean's arm's he hits, and scratches, tries to beg with eyes for Dean to let up.

'Trust me, love me, trust me…" Deans words echo in his head, and fuck, he does. Dean's killing him, but he still loves him.

The world slips away…

Sam's eyes fly open as he takes in air, Sam feels Dean roll him onto his side.

"There you go." Dean says, rubbing his back. "Thought I lost ya there for a second. You did so fucking great Sammy, felt fucking amazing. You made me cum so fucking hard."

Dean gently lifted Sam's head onto his lap, fingers stroking through Sam's hair.

"Thank you, baby, boy. We can do it again tomorrow since you liked it so much too."

Sam glanced down, saw his own thighs covered with cum.

He hated that. He fucking hated it.

But he loves Dean more.

"Anything for you, De."

#sam/dean #supernatural #wincest headcanons: unhinged #wincest #top dean #bottom sam #WincestDailyHC

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girlwithwolftatoo · 2 years

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hc of how the moon boys would be with a harley quinn type of s/o. like she is really sweet and kind when she is with them, but is also extremely chaotic and kinda be seen as a morally grey character. she always means well but she just has a very sad and traumatic upbringing.

(Please read the following headcanon listening to Gangsta by Kehlani because -yes)

Jake Lockley:

*You're too naïve for this world if you think he didn't get a hard on the first time he saw you break a guy's skull with the cricket bat of Steven.

*Night missions as the fist of Khonshu had turned funnier since he discovered your dark side. He loves driving through London and near locations to kick asses and take names with you as his perfect partner in crime.

*Jake feels he can be himself without masks for you'll accept him as he is, even in his most unhinged form. It's not that he couldn't reach that trust level with a "more-average" partner, but he knows there's something in him that can be labelled as "monstrous", and to him, the fact that you can embrace chaos is a signal of safe place.

*Dark-romantic is the way we can describe your relationship. You could either dance in the same club were you just did a carnage spree like two teenagers at their prom, or make out right next to the corpse of a criminal head (not literally) while listening to Paul Anka's "Your head on my shoulder".

*You're the perfect match for him, that's how Jake perceives you. He's so comfortable around you he may even do some crazy little things like, dunno, giving you the ring of a mafia boss he threw off a building the last week because "emerald and gold fits you well" or even worse... going for a tattoo of something related to you.

Marc Spector:

*He's lethal and thug because he has to, not by choice nor self indulgence. The fact that you're so sweet and kind gives him both the hope of finally living a normal life and the fear of getting you into troubles...

*Or that's the main worry until he sees how you break some dude's teeth with a single punch before jumping and landing on his right arm with all your strenght. Now he's like "WTF where's my cherry pie (Y/N)?"

*I'm sorry but Marc can't help but make some inner comparisons between you and Layla. The main difference is you act and feel intense. You greet him with a big hug and giving him smooches before telling him the dinner awaits, but when things get hard Marc knows you won't only fight, but enjoy every second of it, which is... slightly disturbing but fascinating.

*Sometimes he's worried you like a little too much the missions. He knows what a real blood-thirsty is like, and the idea of you turning into someone like that is something he cannot tolerate, so usually he's the one who must contain you.

*But by the same reason, Marc knows you're not like that because you like it. And slow but surely he listens to your life story and the kind of stuff you've been through, and he can emphatize with you. Ultimately you are a healing support for each other, and you lick each other's proverbial wounds and feel the world still has place for love and peace.

Steven Grant:

*You've been dating for some weeks now and he's getting used to your attitudes. You pointed acidly at the waiter Steven asked for a chicken free salad? Well, that's kind of you. You yelled at some kids on the street for harrasing a poor dog? Hey, he would do the same. You kicked someone's crotch after some dirty words? That's fair enough.

*Did you break a burglar's nose with your head and then proceeded to hurt his ears with a slap and, while they were on the floor, you finished with a K.O kick? Okay, that's a little... brutal, but he's surprised. Very surprised.

*The first time you meet him in his Mr. Knight suit you're so happy ("Steven, dear, you're a superhero! No, better than that... a super-vigilante!") you join without hesitation. At first he'll do his best to protect you, but dear, you're more than up for some hand throwing.

*Steven cannot choose if he's scared or intrigued by that crazy side of you. Yes, he despises violence, but he also knows you must respond when someone is bothering you. And your response level tends to be... high, very high, and it's worrying but once carnage is over you turn back to be the soft little dove he loves.

*One day, he may directly ask what's the deal with that. Knowing about the things that made you being like this is sad, for Steven is the most emphatetic of the Moon boys. He'll give you the comprehension, patience and words you needed, and you'll know from then he's the one, you wouldn't never drop sweet Steven of the gift shop for anything or anyone in the world.

#moon knight #moon knight series #moon knight headcanon #moon boys #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #oscar isaac #marvel series #mr knight

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dark9896 · 1 year

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Splintered Blood [Steven x Reader]

Requested by @anonymous-104 😰

Seeing you shuffle forward slowly, Steven hated the edgy feeling. This was you, he shouldn't feel so uneasy as you approached. But you were still a blood breed, and you were hurt... badly.

It took every ounce of your concentration to ignore that sickenly dark call. You could easily drink your fill of fresh blood, but you weren't unhinged enough to mistake friend for foe. You knew what you needed, but you could never do that...

Steven sat up, sweating bullets and looking all around. He was still in the hospital, that fight had drained everyone to their limits. It was a miracle to get out of the Eternal Hollow alive. But the fact that Steven couldn't remember what happened, just that he woke up in the hospital... it was unnerving.

Worse yet, Steven didn't know where you were. Not knowing where you were and not knowing how they got out of the Hollow was doing a number on Steven's psyche. You were a blood breed after all, there wasn't much to suggest that you were capable of doing all of this while fending off other, seemingly more powerful blood breeds.

This whole situation had Steven on edge.

The taping on the darkened window sill didn't help any. Though the shadowy silhouette was vaguely familiar. A glint of red eyes and fangs was off-putting, but somehow Steven felt relaxed. Safe, impossibly so.

"I can't enter without permission." Your voice was calm for someone perched on a twentieth-story ledge, "Considering it's a hospital and all."

Steven couldn't get up to open the window himself, and yet, "Please, come in [Name]."

Sliding into the window, you stumbled upon landing. There was still a large wound on your side from how slowly you were getting blood. It was a delicate balance to not go after all the blood you needed to heal properly. Straightening up and approaching the bed, Steven watched every tiny movement.

"What happened?" He was ashamed that he was even slightly scared, "I don't know how I got here."

Stopping just shy of his arm, "Well, I almost lost control. But I managed to pull everyone out of there."

"And the other blood breeds?"

"I may or may not need to stay away from Libra for a while..." You rubbed the back of your head, "For everyone else's safety. I know there's at least seven more trying to track me down."

Steven sat there blinking, it was difficult to accept. Given that this could take a long time, perhaps longer than his lifetime. But he knew all too well about staying away from people to protect them.

"[Name], don't go just yet."

"I..." You tried taking another step to the open window, not wanting to leave Steven like this, "I have to... I don't want to put the rest of the hospital in danger."

"Please, just one thing."

Steven reached out, only barely capable of doing so. Beckoning you back to himself. You followed effortlessly, despite the nagging correct voice telling you to run.

Leaning over the dark-haired man, you hesitated to kiss him opting to bump foreheads instead. Slowly nuzzling, relaxing as his smell calmed you. Leaving would only be harder with every passing second, even if you could lean on Libra's help to deal with this problem... it wasn't entirely certain what would happen. And right now, they couldn't do anything until they were out of the hospital.

"You don't have to do this alone." Steven whispered, "We could help you with all these blood breeds."

Sighing softly, "Not until you're out of the hospital. And I'm trying to get this finished as fast as possible. Hopefully we won't have to be apart for too much longer."

Steven didn't want to let go, but he did. Watching you leave through the window was still heartbreaking, but he could hope you would let him help you. Steven wouldn't give the blood breeds hunting you any kind of mercy, he just needed you to let him help.

#bbb #kkss #kekkai sensen #blood blockade battlefront #steven starphase #ask

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acourtofserpents · 2 years

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DEMO (last updated january 12th) || Heavily based on and inspired by the "Folk of the Air" series, "A Court of Serpents" is a fantasy, character driven IF focused on the romantic aspect, created with an 18+ audience in mind. A retelling of the books written by Holly Black, it deals with heavy themes and topics such as mind manipulation, sexual content, kidnapping, swearing, violence, non consensual use of drugs, alcohol, questionable morals etc. (Wow, that's a lot of words to say "fanfiction turned IF".)

As the only human in the Kingdom of Faerie, you're no stranger to shining eyes that hold looks filled with hatred, lips painted in the color of forest fruits whispering your name, heads with pointed ears turning at your every step. Though you long for their approval, for a place amongst the wicked immortals, they remind you with every breath you take that as you came from dirt, to dirt you will return.

Prince Ryzan and his friends, Nailea and Zale, are the worst of them all. They humiliate you, laugh delighted at your despair, and sometimes they gaze at you with such distaste that you know they'd rather you dropped dead right in front of them. You try to avoid them at all costs, but they always manage to find you and throw you into the midst of chaos that only leads to your complete and utter embarrassment.

But tonight things are different.

Tonight, another human comes before the court of these serpents.

Tonight, they are accused of stealing a mortal girl, a glamoured servant, to the human world and murdering her. But did they actually do it?

Tonight, they are thrown in the Tower of the Diminished until their fate is decided by the cruel folk.

And everything turns to mayhem and disarray as you seize the opportunity to become the salvation or damnation of the Kingdom of Faerie, shall you decide to stay or escape.

But you overlooked that love, and perhaps betrayal, would come in the way of your plans.

Fully customizable MC (including name, gender, pronouns, appearance, personality, sexuality).

Romance 1 of the 4 morally questionable and slightly unhinged ROs — including 2 elves, 1 merfolk and 1 human.

Learn how to handle a knife. And a sword. And maybe, just maybe, how to murder someone.

Not everything is as it seems and not every kiss is as honest as you might think.

RO POVs because we're all suckers for that.

Explore the Kingdom of Faerie and its whereabouts, and dance until your feet hurt and your mind is dizzy at balls and revels.

Uncover long lost, but well kept court secrets and decide what you're willing to sacrifice to survive.

Ryzan (he/him) - As the Prince of the Kingdom of Faeries, Ryzan knows he is allowed to do anything and everything he wants. His friends might make your existence miserable with taunting insults and disturbing behavior, but he is the worst of them all, letting it all happen while drinking his pomegranate wine and watching you with a cold smile and eyes that hold something more than hatred in them. He hates you, he hates you, he hates you. But if his hate feels like fire, how would his love burn you?

Nailea (she/her) - Sent in the Kingdom of Faerie as a peace treaty between her mother, the Queen of the Undersea, and the King of Faerie, Nailea hasn't tried to hide the way her nose scrunches up in disgust at the mere sight of you. She doesn't waste any opportunity to humiliate you, lavishing in the way your shoulders slump with a defeated sigh when you know she's won the battle. Nailea can't stand you, that much is clear. She always sends that subtle, but menacing, smile your way as if she knows something you don't, and you'll find out soon enough that Nailea is someone that should never be trusted.

Zale (he/him) - He might not be royalty, but he's managed to find himself in Ryzan's graces and, of course, his friend group of slithering snakes. Zale has never pushed or shoved you, he has never insulted you or made you bleed. How could a kind faerie like him end up tangled with such horrible company like Ryzan and Nailea? He smiles at you, he looks out for you, he dances with you at revels. But you know something is wrong from the way his crimson eyes twinkle with deceit, and you'll have to remind yourself that his lies are as pretty as he is.

Silos (they/them) - There are no normal humans in the Kingdom of Faerie, all of them being glamoured to be mindless and senseless servants, except you. Until Silos comes along, that is. The court says they came here to steal one of the servants, and even killing her along the way, sending the kingdom in waves of chaos and confusion. But as you get to spend time with Silos, getting to know them a little bit more every day, you find out with every soft touch and silent laugh that their story has two sides. They need your help to escape back to the human world and you realize they're your ticket out of the Kingdom of Faerie. You might not die trying to escape, but you might die of heartbreak if betrayal comes your way.

ro appearances. picrews.

#interactive fiction #if wip #wip intro #a court of serpents #twine game #twine wip #twine if #choicescript #cog wip #cog if #choices of games #the folk of the air #the cruel prince

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planetsano · 3 years

Text

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 𖥔 ⭒ ִ ׂ 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐱 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 !

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — is it you or her?

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — heavy angst, toxic relationship, potential spoilers, one slap, mention of death, arguments, childhood friends to lovers if you squint.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 — ryuuguji “draken” ken.

After all the screaming, the only thing that could be heard was a blaring silence that impregnated the room. There was a dull and uncomfortable ringing that sounded in the ears that didn’t seem to go away no matter how hard you tried to cover your ears. The pitch was coming from you head, mixing in awfully with the echoes of the previous argument that left the atmosphere between them solemn and hostile.

The tension was unmistakable, so thick that you could cut through it with a knife and serve it on a plate. Shards of glass, thrown furniture and decorations had been tossed everywhere. You couldn’t take a step without hearing the crunch of broken glass under your high-heeled shoe as you stood in the kitchen. All this fighting and crying in such a pretty outfit and makeup, on a night that was supposed to be fun. A one year anniversary completely turned to shit over the mention of one name.

You felt lightheaded and sick to your stomach. His face— his handsome, stupid fucking face made you stomach churn. Every single detail. Every lash, every freckle, even down to the pattern biologically engraved on his dark irises. Everything you once loved, you found yourself loathing all within the span of a few hours. It was a chore looking at him and you was certain if you looked at him again you'd be one of the rare cases of people actually dying of heartbreak.

What a pretty way to go. You almost wanted to laugh at the thought but couldn’t bring yourself to do it. If anything, a laugh right now would’ve made things worse with the way the energy in the air. When did everything get like this? You found your inner thoughts asking many questions like how you could let it get this bad? And was everything really your fault in the end? Was there anything you could do about it?

“I can’t ever be her, Ken..” You spoke after what felt like hours, voice completely shot from the previous screaming match moments before.

“I know.” Draken sighed, his large rubbing his face out of frustration? Fatigue? Maybe a combination of both.

“When did you stop loving me? Did you ever—” You couldn’t even get your sentence out before his tall and built figure rushes towards you, grabbing your flushed and sniveling face with one hand. He squishes your cheeks and his fingers then dig into the soft skin of your face.

“I always loved you, don’t— don’t fucking do that to me,” Draken says, his eyes slightly unhinged as he speaks. He’s shaking, seething with anger actually but he has self-control. He won’t hurt you and you both know that the most you’d get from him was a face shove and even so, that was rare. But what was he supposed to do when you're kicking and scratching at him. You can't listen to words when you got like that.

“Then why— why are you using me? Why am I the one who has to be the replacement?” You ask, eyes searching for any sign of an answer in his dark irises.

“I told you, I didn’t mean to call you by her name..” Draken lets go of your face and takes a step back, irritation heavy on the handsome features of his face.

“And that makes it okay? Because it was an accident?” You laugh at the end of your sentence.

“I love y—” Draken can’t finish his sentence before his face is turned to the side from the impact of the slap you landed on his cheek. It stings your own hand, the feeling rippling through the nerves on your hand.

“Fuck you, Ken.” You spit harshly.

“Yeah,” he chuckles and shakes his head, a look on his face that says he’s over this back and forth. “Fuck me.” He starts to make his way out of the mess that is the kitchen until your voice stops him in his tracks.

“If she was still here.. who would you pick?” You asked softly, tears brimming in your eyes when you started at his back.

“Don’t ask shit for answers you don’t wanna hear,” He says calmly over his shoulder. “We’ll talk when you’re not a fuckin’ spaz..” He exits the kitchen, already on his way up the stairs.

“I hope you die.” You say quietly. “I hate you! I fucking hate you!” Draken can hear your screams of anguish from all the way up the stairs, and yet all he can do is sit on the edge of your shared bed, elbows resting on his knees with his hands gripping at the roots of his hair. His mind wandered off to when you were both just kids.

“Come on, (Name).. Why are they frilly and girly lookin’?” Draken groaned at the Hello Kitty band aids (Name) was about to put on his bleeding knee scrapes. She looks at him with furrowed brows and a pout, intense but childishly cute fire in her eyes as she looks at the young boy. Her cheeks are puffed.

“They’re gonna to help you! It doesn’t matter how they look! Now, stop being a crybaby!” She scolded as her little hands opened the paper packaging of the aid before she gently placed it on his knee.

Draken can’t hide his blush at her care, his tummy fluttering with butterflies as he watches her work so intently. The feeling was so new, he'd never known anything to feel quite like this, but even so, he continues to watch her quietly. (Name) opens the last band aid and goes to put it on the cut on his cheek that carried so much baby fat he hadn't lost yet. But, he stops her with a gentle grab of the wrist. She gives him a confused look.

“Wait.. what about you?” He asked, noticing that she was still bleeding on her own leg. Quite badly too. It was the only cut she had but hers seemed like it was way more severe than the few of his own.

“Nuh-uh,” She shook her head cutely. “I’ll be fine! I care about you more, Ken!” She brushed it off quickly, but her voice was completely genuine. Draken felt.. strange.. but it felt good. Since that day, he always found himself wanting to be near her or worrying about her even when she wasn't around.

That was the day Draken knew he fell in love with you. A soul so selfless that you'd be willing to help others over your own self. He watches a tear fall from his eye and stained the carpet below with a single water droplet. Things were complicated but he's never once doubted his love for you. He wishes he could go back to that day and relive it with you. When things were sweet at could be taken at face value.

“What happened to us?” He asks himself quietly. Draken wants to fix things, but he doesn't know how and for the first time in his life, he wants to run away.

#draken x reader #ken ryuuguji x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev x reader #tr x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyorev draken #draken #ken ryuuguji imagines #ken ryuuguji #draken imagines #ryuuguji ken x reader #ken ryuuguji headcanons #toyko revengers #tokyo revengers imagines

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alstroemeriadissonance · 3 years

Text

Under the influence (NSFW)

Rosa in rather spicy situations with her inebriated colleagues and their alcohol of choice

WARNING: Either extremely suggestive, or (in the case of our dear Dr. Richter) completely NSFW. Please do not click or interact if minor, etc etc

This was what I sought out to write last night but this happened because I felt like writing a more unhinged Vyn instead.

Yay for mental health upkeep

Holy hell this proved to be a pretty long piece. This is a first draft but smut lovers I hope you like this

Beer (Luke)

"You really shouldn't drink, you know," Rosa said, before munching on a potato chip.

She and Luke decided to hang out in his place above the antique shop, whiling away their time watching old anime shows.

Luke nursed a freshly opened bottle of cold beer. "Eh, it's just beer," he shrugged as he took a big gulp. "Sometimes nothing beats a cold one." Luke wiped his wet lips with his sleeve. "You want?"

Rosa shook her head. "Nah, I'm good with soda," she said as she sipped her diet root beer through a straw.

"Diet soda isn't good for you, you know."

"I don't think it's worse than drinking alcohol, Luke."

"You'd be surprised," Luke huffed as he grabbed a potato chip. "Beer is healthier in moderation. Those artificial sugars destroy your insides."

"Ehh," Rosa let out a moue. "I don't like the taste of beer."

"Because your taste is quite unsophisticated, my dear Watson." Luke grinned as he popped off the cap of another beer bottle and chugged its contents.

They spent the next hour quietly watching a couple of episodes of Gatchaman, with nary a word between them.

"Luke...did something happen?" Rosa broke the silence as the credits rolled for the second Gatchaman episode.

Luke's silence only confirmed her suspicions. He fiddled with the neck of his fifth bottle.

"Luke," Rosa said as she turned towards him. "You can tell me, you know? I promise I won't tell anyone."

At this point Luke's face was slightly pink. He must be drunk by now, noted Rosa as she counted the empty bottles set beside him.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"It's something work related," Luke murmured. "I really can't tell you the specifics for obvious reasons.

"But sometimes it gets to me, you know? Sometimes the sounds keep me up at night."

The smile on Luke's face looked so sad, the sight of it almost literally hurt Rosa.

As if on impulse, Rosa blurted out "Want a hug?" in her desperation to dispel the immense sadness of her Sherlock.

Luke blinked. "You sure?"

"Sure I'm sure." Rosa opened her arms wide. "Huuuuuug."

"Heh." Luke swooped in and tackled Rosa to the floor, tickling her sides with his gloved fingers. "Wrestle time!"

"Luke!" Rosa yelped as she winced at the tickling assault. "I give! I give!"

Directly above her, Luke's flushed face grinned impishly. "You give?" He did not let up the tickling just yet.

"I give!" Rosa was already crying at that point.

Smiling, he dipped his face to Rosa's, close enough that she could smell the hint of alcohol on his breath.

And kissed her.

Eventually Luke broke their kiss, running a hand through her hair. "You okay with this? I can stop, you know."

"Um," Rosa said, laughing nervously. "Isn't it a bit too late to ask that?"

Luke let out a genuine smile this time. "You know what? You're right," he said as he pulled Rosa into another embrace. "My dear Watson."

The Gatchaman episodes continued to play on the television with no one watching them.

Tequila (Marius)

The heavy atmosphere of the party was getting too much for Rosa. Themis Law Firm was invited for the launching of a new product line from Pax Pharmaceuticals, and Rosa was tapped as their representative.

Or rather, sacrificial lamb. Rosa massaged her temples as the oppressive bass and pulsating lights of the ritzy nightclub venue was getting to her.

I swear I'm going to put up a stronger protest if they try to pick me as representative again, thought Rosa as she waded through the sea of celebrities and guests in the search for a quiet nook to hide herself away from the sensory bombardment.

All of a sudden a hand yanked at her arm. "What--"

"Heya, Miss Lawyer," Marius winked. "Looking for me?"

"Er, not exactly," Rosa said, voice tinged with tiredness, "I'm looking for somewhere more quiet to take a break for a bit."

Marius grinned. "What a coincidence! I was thinking of doing the same, too." He pulled out his phone and made a quick call to his assistant. "Alright, let's ditch this boring joint," he said as he pocketed his phone and took Rosa's hand.

"I don't need to go anywhere exciting, Marius," Rosa protested as Marius guided her through the dance floor and to the stairs that led to the VIP rooms.

"Trust me on this one, don't worry," he said as he led her through a maze of dimly-lit, lushly carpeted corridors, eventually stopping in front of a nondescript door. He jiggled the doorknob to check if it was open. It turned without much effort.

"Well, ladies first," Marius gestured to her as he opened the door for her.

Rosa could only blink as soon as her eyes processed the scene that awaited her in that particular VIP room.

"Marius. Von. Hagen."

"Yes?" Marius couldn't contain his grin.

"Are you sure we're in the right place?"

Marius tipped his head to one side innocently. "Why, whatever do you mean, Missy?" His invisible puppy tail practically wagged. "Is this room not to your liking?"

Said room practically looked like a love motel room, complete with a queen-sized bed outfitted with bright red bedding, and ultraviolet lighting by the headboard.

The entire room felt nothing but sleazy; the sight of it made Rosa blush from head to toe.

"Seriously though," Marius grinned sheepishly this time, sensing Rosa's immense discomfort. "This was the only room free at the moment."

"Good lord," Rosa muttered as she buried her face in her hands, still furiously blushing.

"Hee," Marius could not help but openly show his glee at the sight of Rosa's rather cute predicament. "I'm not lying when I said this was the only kind of room available.

"The actual VIP rooms are all taken up because Marketing decided to go all out with the celebrity and A-list guests".

Rosa sighed. That makes sense. "Well, at least it isn't noisy here," she said as she kicked off her pumps and sat herself by the foot of the bed, stretching out her legs.

"No annoying strobe lights either," Marius concurred. "God, those really do irritate me." He went ahead and made himself comfortable on one side of the bed, his back supported against the plush faux black leather headboard.

Rosa was too acutely aware of Marius' presence on the bed, and she dared not face him. Instead she trained her sights down to her feet.

"Missy~" Marius called out to her. "Sit with me?" He patted the space beside him.

Rosa warily turned around on the bed to face Marius, then noticed that the bedside table set nearby was stocked with various bottles and other items meant for mixing.

Marius was already holding out a shot glass to her.

"Artem's going to kill you, you know," Rosa muttered at the sight of the amber liquid in the shot glass.

"What, are you saying he doesn't want you to fulfill your part as Themis Law Representative?" Marius practically drawled.

A realization dawned over Rosa. Oh.

Sitting on the bed alongside her is Marius Von Hagen, heir and acting CEO of the Pax Group.

Rosa's smile was twisted. "You're a walking lawsuit sometimes, don't you know that?"

Marius had to laugh at that remark. "I trust that you'd get me out of that lawsuit, Missy." Then, he smiled at her seductively. "Come on, just one shot."

"Fine," Rosa relented and moved closer to Marius on the bed. She took the proffered glass and gave it a sniff. It smelled dangerous.

"That's tequila," Marius said matter-of-factly. "Oh, wait," he turned to reach for a small tray containing lemon slices and what seemed to be a small container of salt.

"Er, what's that for?"

"You do it like this," Marius gently took Rosa's arm and dabbed a bit of salt on her delicate wrist.

"What--" Rosa was dumbfounded at the seemingly random act.

Marius then knocked back the amber liquid in his shot glass with one swift motion, then proceed to lick the salt off Rosa's wrist with a low, sensuous licking of his tongue.

Rosa subconsciously squirmed at the sensations stirred by his tongue against the thin, sensitive skin of her wrist.

Marius noticed it. "Your turn, now," he said as he bit into a slice of lemon and pushed the tray containing lemon slices and salt towards her.

Rosa's hands were shaking slightly as she sprinkled salt at the back of Marius's proffered hand, then took the shot glass filled with tequila.

"Go on, Miss," Marius grinned seductively. "First time for anything, and all that."

With a deep breath, Rosa sipped the amber liquid with a wince, then as soon as she finished drinking the offensive contents she brought her lips to Marius's hand to lick off the salt hesitantly.

"You missed a bit of salt," Marius whispered, licking his lips at the sight of Rosa tonguing the back of his hand.

"Now what?" Rosa looked up at him, a furious blush blooming across her face.

"Then you bite into this lemon wedge," Marius said as he placed one end of the cut fruit between his lips, and brought his face close to hers.

Caught up in the heady, intoxicating mood, Rosa leaned in and bit into the lemon wedge.

With a groan Marius removed the lemon wedge from her lips and replaced it with his tongue. He grasped Rosa's shoulders and gently yet firmly pushed her onto the bed as he entwined his tongue with hers, without breaking the deep kiss.

"Mmm," Marius licked the salt that clung on Rosa's lower lip. "Missy, I could do this for ages," he murmured, then dipped down once again for another kiss.

"I swear you'd be the death of me, Marius Von Hagen," Rosa breathed in between kisses.

"Consider this good for the next few partnership deals," Marius hummed happily as he started to undress her.

Whisky (Artem)

Not again, Rosa thought as her body pressed tight against her senior partner's, his alcohol-tinged breaths hot against her ear.

Celestine had thought that it was a Very Good Idea to gift the famously-lightweight Artem a bottle of premium whisky upon securing a lucrative partnership deal with a new client.

Celestine had also thought that it was a Very Good Idea to crack open the bottle for everyone to toast with, including the famously-lightweight Artem.

And finally, Celestine had thought that it was a Very Fun Idea to feed the famously-lightweight Artem a few more shots as a dare--because he'd rather keel over and die than play Truth because everyone knew what Celestine would ask him if he chose Truth.

Which brings Rosa to the present.

Somehow she is once again in Artem's apartment, having tasked to send the thoroughly inebriated man home lest he become one of Stellis City's drunken late night casualties.

Rosa had only intended to deposit the man on the sofa, and maybe loosen his tie (she finally learned how to do it properly) so he could be more comfortable, but they were barely past the threshold of his apartment when he hauled her to the sofa with such strength uncharacteristic of someone with alcohol-impaired senses.

Pinned underneath Artem, Rosa could only look up at the unfocused gaze of her partner, his face flushed and sweat beads sliding down his forehead.

"Rosa," he said, voice husky with desire. He repeats her name multiple times until the syllables roll off his tongue like melted ice cream off a spoon.

"Artem--"

"If you only...knew..." Artem whispered almost inaudibly. "How much I...hurt." His arms encircled her shoulders and pulled her close; a hand caressing and playing with her hair. "How I wanted to tell you how much I want you. So much," his face twisted in a mixture of longing and frustration.

His hand caressed her cheek, thumb tracing her lips. With a misty smile he gently slipped his thumb between her lips, feeling her hot, wet tongue.

Despite herself, Rosa's breathing grew shallow and fast, her heart beating wildly at the sensation of his digit teasing her tongue.

She involuntarily let out a moan as she writhed underneath him.

Artem's smile grew more lustful. His other hand wandered down her back...

He's going to forget about this when he wakes up tomorrow, Rosa thought. Like the last time.

Before she could decide whether or not to let the moment run its course, she felt Artem's hand try to hitch up her skirt.

Rosa blinked, surprised at the display of boldness. "Artem?"

"Shh," breathed Artem as he gathered her skirt up her waist.

Pale blue silk panties showed through her sheer pantyhose.

Oh shit, thought Rosa as she bit her lip. He better not remember this tomorrow.

Then she felt him fumble at his belt, trying to loosen the buckle.

He better, better NOT remember this tomorrow, Rosa at this point prayed. However, she made no move to stop the man from opening his zipper and pulling his pants down to the middle of his thighs, leaving his underwear on.

"Stay here," Artem whispered huskily as he wrapped Rosa's legs around his waist. "Stay here with me--ah,"

Rosa's eyes widened for a fraction of a second. The feeling of Artem's hard-on pressing against her was unmistakable through the thin fabric of both their underwear.

He bent over to Rosa once again, this time to press his mouth against hers in a wet, torrid, deep kiss. His hands held her thighs tighter around his waist, and started moving his hips slowly.

Lost in the heady sensation of their making out, Rosa felt a slight pang of regret that Artem would likely forget this sweet, secret moment. I guess it's fine that he forgets, Rosa decided as she threw her arms around his shoulders and returned the movement of his hips. A hot sensation started to pool between her thighs, and she felt herself go wet with sharp arousal.

Artem's breathing eventually grew rapid, until he threw his head back and let out a deep, guttural moan.

It's our--my--little secret.

===

Rosa looked at the slumbering man on the sofa in front of her, before she left for the night.

She had made sure to zip his pants closed and buckled his belt to maintain the illusion--if ever he remembered bits and pieces of what happened--that all was just a drunken wet dream.

However, she did not notice the stray strands of her hair that were left entwined around his fingers.

Artem actually did remember. The memory of that one time he made out with her is one of those things that get him through lonely nights.

Various Red Wines (Vyn)

Rosa was greeted by the sight of Vyn Richter inspecting a few bottles set on the mahogany desk of his study.

"I am glad to see you," Vyn said with the softest smile as he set down the bottle he was holding, and planted a chaste kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for indulging me today."

"I have to admit, I am curious when you said you'd do a private wine tasting for me," Rosa said as she walked over to his desk to admire the beautiful dark bottles.

"One of my friends back home were kind enough to send me these," Vyn said as he rummaged through a drawer and retrieved a corkscrew. "I thought it would be a little lonely if I alone enjoyed it.

"Do seat yourself in the living room, I shall be preparing for our little wine tasting event."

"Okay!" Rosa exclaimed excitedly.

After a few moments Vyn came with a tray laden with the wine bottles and a single wine glass, placing it on the table across the sofa.

A wine key lay on a folded piece of cloth placed on one side of the tray.

"Have you tasted red wine before?" Vyn asked as he sat himself on the sofa, directly beside Rosa. "Do you have any preferences?"

"Yes, but only in social functions," Rosa admitted. "I never really knew what kind they were aside from the fact that they are red wine."

"I see," there was a glint in his gold eyes as he smiled knowingly. "Consider this a novel experience, then.

"Shall we begin?"

What came after however was something Rosa did not expect.

Vyn took the piece of cloth on the tray and unfolded it. It was a long strip of silk. "Close your eyes," he whispered gently.

"Vyn, what's this?" Rosa blinked.

"A blindfold."

"Why...?"

The smile on Vyn's face was almost beatific. "Trust me."

With a gulp, Rosa closed her eyes, feeling Vyn gently wrap the silk twice around her head, covering her eyes, until he tied it to a secure knot at the back of her head.

Her sense of sight completely disabled, the small hairs of her skin stood on end as her sense of touch subconsciously heightened. Rosa trembled slightly.

However, Vyn's voice stayed neutral. "Since you can still be considered a beginner with red wines, let us start with something sweeter," he said.

Rosa was acutely aware of the sounds of a bottle being grasped, and then a crisp pop sound of a cork being removed.

What came after is the sound of wine poured into a glass.

The complete lack of sight enhanced her hearing, and Rosa almost believed she could even accurate see what he was doing judging by the sounds.

She felt the space on the sofa beside her sink a little as Vyn moved beside her.

"Open your mouth a little," Vyn instructed as he gently supported her chin with one hand, and brought the glass to her lips.

Rosa sipped the proffered liquid. The wine was sweet and fruity, almost without any alcohol.

"This is this year's beaujolais nouveau," Vyn whispered close to her ear, his warm breath caressing her cheek. "This is a young wine taken from this year's grape harvest, so you may find this the easiest to drink," he murmured.

"Do you like it?" There was an unmistakable seductive lilt to his usually gentle, soothing voice.

"Y-yes," Rosa said, blushing. The blindfold intensified all of her senses apart from sight, and she could smell the crisp scent of Vyn's sandalwood cologne apart from the scent of the freshly-opened bottle of wine.

"So you prefer the sweeter ones," Vyn said as he moved again, presumably to take another bottle. The sound of wine being poured.

"Open your lips, my dearest," Vyn murmured as he once again touched her chin with his fingers, and brought the cold wine glass to her lips.

The alcohol this time was a bit noticeable, but was still on the refreshing and fruity side, almost like strawberries or cherries. Rosa sipped the entire contents of the wine glass, taken in by the seductive ambiance that Vyn had set up for her.

"This is a zinfandel," Vyn said as Rosa sensed him leaning in closer and felt his tongue sensuously lap at the stray drop of wine that trickled the side of her lips. "Strawberry notes," he said. "Just like I had imagined you would taste like."

Rosa gulped in anticipation. The blindfold was causing a sensory overload in all of her other senses.

"I have one more I would like you to taste," Vyn said as he once again moved to pour another wine into the glass.

"Open your mouth, just a little wider this time," Vyn prompted.

Rosa complied, fully expecting the cold touch of glass against her lower lip.

But instead felt Vyn's mouth against hers, wine flowing from his lips into hers. This caught Rosa by surprise, and a fair bit of wine spilled between their lips.

A soft, sensuous laugh. "Ah, I made a mess of your clothes," Vyn murmured as he slowly licked the droplets of wine that trickled down her chin to her neckline. The slow, tracing movements of the tip of his tongue--with her sense of touch amplified by the blindfold--drove her silently mad.

"Exquisite merlot," his lips murmured against the gradually heating skin of her neck. "I rather like it.

"My dear Rosa," Vyn whispered, "I am afraid that I have to take off your dress and clean it later...the red wine stains will need to be removed."

"Vyn," Rosa moaned as she felt Vyn's hands lift the hem of her summer one piece dress and pulled it over her head, leaving her in her underwear.

"Ah, but there is also merlot on this spot of your brassiere. I will need to clean it as well." Vyn reached behind her and effectively unclasps Rosa's bra with one hand, letting it fall to her arms.

Rosa could feel the cool air on her bare breasts. "Vyn, what are you--mmmph--"

Vyn quieted her by slipping a wine-dipped finger into her lips.

Rosa instinctively sucked on his finger, then gasped as she felt trails of liquid poured onto her upper body, from her collarbone, to her breasts, and the liquid eventually trickling down her thighs.

Vyn teased her a little by gently blowing on one of her breasts.

Rosa squirmed at the sensation.

"Heh," with his tongue Vyn traced the wine droplets that ran across her body: from her neck, to her breasts, down to her stomach.

"This is a rather...exciting way to consume shiraz," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. "Ah, but we should do this more often."

Rosa would be agreeing with him, if it weren't for his finger teasing her tongue inside her mouth.

She felt fingertips dance across her stomach, then settling down to just above the garter of her panties. Rosa moaned, the blindfold causing her to anticipate his touch down there.

And the fingers slip inside her panties, confirming her wet arousal.

"My," Vyn murmured. "Should I relieve you of your pain?" He removed his finger from her mouth.

Rosa panted, her breathing growing more shallow and excited by the second. Then she gasped upon feeling hands pull her panties down to her ankles.

Fingers caressed her clitoris. Rosa moaned, pressing her wetness even closer to the exquisite touch. "Please..."

"Please...?" Vyn whispered, his voice thick with lust.

"Let me come..." Rosa bit her lip, concentrating on the sweet sensation that was steadily growing in her lower abdomen down to her wetness.

"As you wish."

It only took Vyn a few moments of tonguing the sensitive tip of his lover's clit before her thighs tightened their grip around his neck.

Rosa's back arced as she lost herself in sweet orgasm. "Ah, Vyn!" she instinctively bit her finger to stop herself from shouting too loud.

He kept on licking her throughout the throes of orgasm, ending it with a light sucking on her clit.

"Are you satisfied?" Vyn asked as he adjusted himself between her legs.

Rosa was still breathless and dazed, and so could not reply.

Letting out a tender chuckle, Vyn finally undid the blindfold, letting the light flood back into Rosa's sights. Her eyes remained closed until her eyes could once again tolerate the light in Vyn's living room.

She was greeted by the sight of him also naked, his hips already positioned to take her...

"May I, my beloved?"

Rosa nodded, then reached out to him for a deep kiss, feeling him enter her slowly as their wine-drenched tongues danced.

===

"Well, what did you think?" Vyn asked Rosa as he nuzzled her neck, drenched with sweat mingling with traces of red wine.

They were cuddling in the sofa, basking in the tender afterglow of wine flavored sex.

"That was...that was unbelievable," Rosa said, still dazed. "Whatever possessed you to come up with that?"

"Ah. Blocking one's sense of sight usually intensifies sense of touch," Vyn said. "It allows certain...enhancements to lovemaking."

"And the wine?"

"The wine was a happy coincidence," Vyn said, planting a kiss on her cheek. "A friend sent me a sampling of their wine from their vineyard."

"I see..."

"Are you happy with me, my Rosa?" Vyn asked. However this time, his voice went somber.

"Hmm?"

"I promise to come up with novel experiences from time to time, so that you do not get tired of me," Vyn murmured quietly.

"Only look at me." Vyn held her tightly, his heart beating fast against her skin. "I promise, I will do my utmost to exceed your expectations."

Rosa smiled, reaching out to caress his face with her fingertips.

"Vyn," she sighed. "The only man I love is you."

#tot smut #tears of themis smut #tot vyn #tot marius #tot artem #tot luke #mo yi #vyn richter #vyn richter x reader #tears of themis #marius von hagen #luke pearce x reader #artem wing #mo yi x reader #lu jinghe #xia yan #zuo ran

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angelltheninth · 2 years

Note

Hi hi hello,

I'm way too obsessed with Vox Machina rn and I saw you were taking requests and now I can't get this idea out of my head.

A reader who is usually super happy and reliable (sunshine personified) is super close with Percy and always reminds him to smile, that there's goodness in the world.

The party gets captured by soldiers or bandits who plan to torture them for information or something but reader who loves her friends too much to let them die offers herself in exchange for their freedom. She only gets to smile at Percy and remind him to be happy before he and the others are knocked out and dumped.

Can be angsty or a happy ending, I trust you to write something amazing 😊

Thanks

Percy angst! My man has that in abundance already but it never hurts (much) to add a little more.

Pairing: Percy de Rolo x Reader

Tags: angst, kidnapping, rescuing, injury, hurt/comfort, unhinged Percy de Rolo

A/N: I really hope that "unhinged Percy de Rolo" becomes a common tag in the fandom

Percy is a serious man, he's the brains of Vox Machina a lot of the time and, along with Pike, is the voice of reason

He doesn't lose his cool a lot or smile nearly as much as you think he should

So you make it your personal mission to make him smile and laugh

You have a very chipper and smiley personality so you and Percy are very much opposites

He thinks you're a little much in the beginning, but he gets used to your personality the more you travel together

You're definitely the one who makes him smile the most out of anyone in the group

He begins to smile at the smallest things that you do, and tries to hide his blushes around you, much to the amusement of everyone around him

You really do become his sunshine, the one who chases the clouds and the demons away

When your party is overrun and in way over your heads you offer yourself in exchange for letting the rest of them go

The bandits talk amongst themselves for a while, they can either kill you all and maybe risk their own people, or they can take the deal and make coin off you

Percy wants to interfere but you stop him quickly before he gets himself killed

You cup his face and kiss him, realizing that it's your first and very possibly your last kiss

You tell him to remember to smile every once in a while, otherwise he'll get wrinkles before it's time

Percy is about to respond when he, and the rest of Vox Machina including you, get knocked out and you get taken away

You're taken to the bandits camp, they discuss how much they can get for you

You're not sure how much time had passed but you start to hear shouting coming from the edge of the camp

You hear the sound of gunshots and you immediately know who it is before you see the familiar sight of white hair, slightly covered by some kind of mask

Percy is making his way trough the camp, shooting bandits left and rights, not killing everyone but definitely aiming for it

You can't see his face but you can only imagine his angry expression, and it scares you, you've never seen Percy like this

You see the rest of the group running behind him, yelling to him, but even if does hear them he's not paying them any mind

Once he sees you he runs straight for you, his clothes and mask covered in blood

When he reaches for you, you flinch back

He pauses and takes off his mask, his face now sad and worried, horrified that you would be scared of him

He slowly brings you in for a hug, repeating apologies to you

As you make your way out of the camp Percy is avoiding eye contact but still keeping close to you

Later that night you go see him, he's keeping watch, avoiding pretty much everyone

You sit next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder

You confess that you were scared back there

Percy tells you he's sorry for scaring you like that, he doesn't like to lose control like that

No, you weren't scared of him, not really, you were scared of losing him to whatever seems to have hold over him

His arm wraps around you, pulling you close into his chest, whispering how that's never gonna happen, you mean too much to him

Before he might have let himself sink deeper into that darkness, but not anymore

#critical role #critical role x reader #percy de rolo #tlovm #percival fredrickstein von musel klossowski de rolo iii #percival de rolo #percy x reader #tlovm x reader

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enhypia · 3 years

Text

JS ; exes

exes answers questions with the choice of drinking instead of answering

pairings: park jongseong x gn!reader

genre: angst, mild fluff

words: roughly 1.7k

masterlist ⸺ series masterlist

~guides and warnings~

italics - reader speaking

bold - jay speaking

[enclosed] - interviewer speaking

italicized bold - both reader and jay speaking

[enclosed bold or italics] - question (depends on who's speaking)

heavily inspired by: rec.create lie detector games, cut truth or drink

warning: contains and mentions of !!! drinking, swearing, neglect, breaking up

i don't promote underage drinking, save your livers

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

hello, i'm (y/n)

and i'm jay

we're (awkward eye contact)

uhh we're exes

[you guys were invited here today as exes for a fun little drinking game, you guys were aware of that right?]

yes

yup

*interviewer shuffles awkwardly

sorry it's just, our friends were the ones who signed up for us

yeah, we just found out about it three days ago

[but are you guys still okay with doing this?]

we're okay

just give us a few minutes to get used to environment

*(y/n) chuckles

[okay, for this game, questions will be asked and if you refuse to answer, you drink, it's that simple. are you guys ready? should we start?]

*jay nods

ready as i'll ever be

[how long were you guys together?]

we were together for almost 3 years

[how long have you guys been broken up?]

about a year and a half now

[who broke up with who?]

i did they did

[why did you break up with him?]

so this was all a year and a half ago okay? no coming for jay, he's grown, we've grown

thanks?

you're welcome

*jay laughs

uhh.. it just really reached a point where i felt neglected in a way? and it was just tiring? i kept thinking 'do i deserve this treatment?' and i hated that i was doubting everything, including his feelings. so i just said let's talk about it and then yeah we split up

*jay drinks and (y/n) laughs

sorry sorry

nah i just needed that

[okay, how about we officially start the q&a portion between the of you now?]

*both nod and played rock paper and scissors to determine who gets to ask first, jay wins

*he picks up a card and facepalms after seeing the question

goddamn

should i be scared?

not sure, but you might opt to drink though

[do you blame me for what happened to us?]

oh my god *(y/n) laughs

i know right

so we're unpacking emotions today? okay noted

you can just drink if you're not comfortable with it

i'll drink but i'll still answer, might ease your mind no?

*jay couldn't stop his head from nodding

*(y/n) drinks

i admit that i blamed you at first, but then i got to thinking that it wasn't just you, i was also at fault too since i never really vocalized what i felt? i just let it build up until it reached the point where you couldn't do anything about it anymore, and i couldn't too.

yeah but it's more of my fault since i felt something was wrong but i just brushed it off, i brushed you off.

....

shot?

*jay smiles slightly and both raised their glasses to cheers before drinking

we were both at fault and i don't blame you, jay. i hope you stop blaming yourself

*(y/n) smiles softly then picks up a card to stop any reply they might get from jay

god why are these questions so heavy? it wasn't like this from other episodes

*jay and crew laugh

okay, hit me

[what's your biggest regret about our relationship?]

what the fuck

SEE ?!

*both laugh and jay drinks

okay, next question

no, i'm answering

[we won't stop you but just reminding you both that it's okay not to answer if you drink]

the alcohol releases the unhinged-ness

in other words, this is really just us using the alcohol to actually say what we feel

i think you already the answer, and it's that i didn't do anything about us even if i felt something was wrong. i just kept on focusing on my career that i reached a point where i brushed everything off as nothing. and in the end, while i got the success i wanted, somehow i also feel like i'm on the losing end really.

*(y/n) drinks making jay laugh

what? it's my first time hearing all this !

it was a rough break so

omg is this our closure ???

*jay's eyes widened

and it's filmed ?!?!

*everyone laughs

couple goals *(y/n) does a hashtag

oh wait *(y/n) looks at jay

exes goals *both do a hashtag pose

*they laugh, ignoring the sting in their hearts

okay, okay moving on

*jay laughs again

is it a heavy one again?

nope

[do your friends hate me?]

*(y/n) bursts out laughing

please 😭

we have the same friends

we share a lot of mutual friends

that's why there was like tension for a month in the friend group because no one knew what to do

i'm sorry you had to endure all that friends

remember when they literally made an organized schedule to hang out where we wouldn't see each since the break up was still fresh?

yeah like i got heeseung on tuesdays

and i got him on thursdays

😭😭😭

we love them though, they did their best to console us both

thanks guys <33

*(y/n) picks up a card

goddammit

[do you think we could've actually worked out our problems?]

i think it's unfair that i get a lot of heavy questions

i have the power of god and anime on my side today

i think we could've, if i just had taken the actual time to reflect and sit down and talk, we could've worked it out.

*(y/n) slaps jay's arm

i told you, stop blaming yourself

*(y/n) rolls their eyes

*jay picks up a card and

what?

*he is stuttering guys, he is fidgeting

[do you wish we were still together?]

yeah

.....

*both drink

i mean-

*jay has been paralyzed, he did not expect (y/n) to answer

i'm happy where i am right now, maybe there are moments of weakness that the thought crosses my mind but i don't dwell on it too much. i think we're both still learning and growing.

*jay doesn't want to think about the fact that (y/n) never said a clear yes or no

*(y/n) picks up a card and groans

please just drink to this

why?

[what do you think of me now?]

....

drink.

no?

why?

because-

why?

i'm answering

why?

i want to?

no.

right now i'm just really proud of you.

*WORLD PAUSE, (y/n) is malfunctioning

it's a little sad that i didn't get to witness a lot of it but i promise i watched from afar and i'm so proud of you. like it makes me feel lighter in a way? knowing that you're still going and pursuing your dreams. it just made me at ease that -

*(y/n) drinks, looking very much like snow white's apples

are you blushing?

jay i will kick you

*he laughs and pinches (y/n) cheeks making them redder, (y/n) slaps his hands away

i won't hesitate bitch

how about you huh?

[what do you think of me now?]

*jay you should know not to tease too much or else it'll bite you back

i think you're absolutely amazing.

*jay could only blame himself

i am in constant awe and there's this pride that i have in me whenever i see you thriving. it's weird because i thought i'd be bitter about it, but since i knew of your goals and how passionate you were, all i felt was pride. it did hurt a little that i couldn't go "that's my baby!" anymore.

*alert! jay's ears are red and it's spreading to his cheeks and neck

okay next question!

*he quickly picks up a card making (y/n) burst out laughing

everything i said was true though.

hajima. stop. pause. i'm not listening

*(y/n) laughs at flustered jay

this is the last one.

[question for both: if you could tell me anything, what would you say?]

sheesh

same

rock paper scissors? loser goes first

*jay wins

*(y/n) drinks

can you turn around for this one, like don't look at me.

*jay followed

i want to say that,,,, that it's not your fault for putting your future first. it kind of stung since you made me feel like i wasn't a part of it but i know that wasn't your intention. i understand your actions and i don't blame you. if i was in your position i probably would've been the same. i'm sorry that i didn't try harder, like you said we could've made it work but i just got so tired, i hope you can forgive me for that as well.

okay i'm turning around as well, your turn

*(y/n)'s eyes are glassy, but jay doesn't need to see that

i want to say that i'm sorry for neglecting you. i feel like you're tired of me saying sorry but that's really all i could do. i forgive you by the way even if i don't get why you're apologizing to me. i also want to say that, it wasn't you. it sounds cliche but you weren't the reason i became like that, it was me. it was never you. so please don't blame yourself for anything. please don't question your worth because you were more than enough.

yah i didn't want to unpack that

well i still know you and i was given the chance to say it now so

*(y/n) turns around wiping tears, jay is sniffling

i need a drink damn

*(y/n) pours a shot and jay as well, both drink after clinking their glasses

[you guys good?]

*both looks at each other and chuckles

we're good

i can't believe we have to thank our friends for setting this up

*jay groans

[care to answer one last question that is in everyone's minds' right now?]

oh god

is it what i think it is

[will we see you guys be featured again? maybe exes to couples again?]

let's drink!

*both take one last shot and waves to the camera

*(y/n) shrugs and jay winks

bye~

»————-　♡　————-«

bonus: youtube comments (peep last one)

masterlist ⸺ series masterlist

a/n: i was planning to post this sooner but my pharma prof suddenly dropped a 6-page activity lmao rip, im scheduling the timestamps i forgot to post last update sorry sorry. my angst skills are subpar forgive me but i tried my best. i hope you like this one too !! jake's will be uploaded next ! please look forward to it <33

343 notes · View notes

morgana-ren · 3 years

Note

Damn validation hits different when its from your favorite Shigaraki poster.

No but really creepy obsessed Shigaraki can like get it however it he wants it. Just like that act of having blood on your hands from killing someone "accidentally/on purpose" and Shigaraki making you touch him and in turn touching you with the blood of your friends that he spilled to get your attention is like 🥵🥵🥵. The manipulation, the bloodshed, the unhealthy relationship that's gonna result cause like. You jumped at an opportunity to kill babe, in the end you're just like him. Or Shigaraki forcing you to hold the knife or whatever and kill your remaining friend(s). Its hot and romantic if you think about. Just like spilling blood together even if its accidental is AMAZING

I honestly can't write for shit, I just have ideas and run on sentences but I'll take whatever scraps you throw my way❤

Thank you so much! ❤️ 💕 I’m telling you, it’s a fuckin’ awesome idea. Look, on some level, a lot of us were simpin’ for these slashers. Especially when it came to the ones that got a little too close and personal. One going crazy for you and using your weaknesses against you? Holding your friends lives against you and bending you to his whims or else? Top tier.

Mmmmhmmhmhmmhhaaaaahahaaa okay so I tried my hand at a quick one, just him being a total bastard. You know, cause why not. I can technically make it more crazy and romantic as opposed to ‘total psychopath holds me captive’, but this is what ended up coming out atm. I hope it’s alright! He is not nice, because I never write him nice. He’s actually a complete bastard, but you know.

Tomura shoves you through the rocks and fauna that line the camping area and forward toward one of the craft cabins, practically carrying you at this point because your own legs are too weak to hold your own body weight.

A quick flip of the switch to turn on the ugly, yellowish flickering lights reveals he's got one of your fellow councilors tied up and unconscious with their head lopped over on their shoulder, a little dribble of blood trailing down their temple from where he hit them with the butt of the knife. You're shaking in his grip as he gently guides you in front of the chair, rubbing up and down your arms in a way that is likely meant to be comforting but gives away his already barely concealed excitement.

"You said you'd do whatever I ask, right?"

Dread blooms, threading through your ribcage and squeezing, suffocating your lungs and anchoring your gut to the floor in abject horror. Bile rises up to tickle your esophagus as he presses the hilt of the blade to your palm- still slick with blood and caked with the viscera of your fellow campers- your friends. You tear your face away. You can't look. You can't look.

"I want you to prove it to me."

His hand constricts across your chin in an iron grip and yanks your face back toward them, your tears pooling in the slats of his fingers. He gently curls each of your own fingers around the knife- so gently in contrast to the way he's lodged against your jaw- before releasing you and shoving you forward.

“You’re going to kill them. I even made it easy for you. He’s out cold- no screaming, no struggling, none of the obnoxious stuff I had to deal with. All you gotta do is push the knife in to prove your loyalty to me.”

The dam breaks and you fall to your knees, shaking your head as the knife falls from your hand and clatters to the floor, spinning aimlessly on its axis. Sobs catch in your throat, hiccupping relentlessly through the choked gasps and guttural blubbers. “I-I can’t! I won’t! You can’t make me do this! Please, Tomura-”

He rolls his eyes, plucking the knife from the floor before threading his hands through your hair to the scalp and jerking you back up to your feet and into his arms again. Your teeth clench at the pain, another sob wracking your spine as you almost double back over. “I can make you do anything I want- Don’t forget what this is.” Releasing your hair, he curls an arm around under your tits, holding you upright, his other pushing the knife back into your sweaty palm, hand curling around yours to guide you. “Don’t forget what happens if you don’t do what I ask. I’ll even help you, if you’ll stop your incessant sniveling.” He moves forward, bringing you with him closer to your target, brandishing the knife entwined in your hands. The sharp blade catches on the collar of their pastel camp shirt, moving lower as Tomura calculates out exactly where to move- he won’t drag this out just to hurt you. He might be cruel, but he’s not a monster.

“Right there-” The tip sits point blank, scaling downward below the inner part of the left clavical bone- stopping approximately between the fourth and fifth ribs and angling the knife upward. Hours of volunteering to teach the camp anatomy lesson tells you as much. “We’ll push it in together right there. It’ll be almost instant, I swear-”

“Please- I can’t-” “You can.” He cranes his neck and kisses your hairline, and you recoil as much as you from his affections. “And you will. For me.” A hideous giggle as he kisses at the shell of your ear. “And for yourself.”

His hand moves forward, taking yours along with him, and the tip of the blade dents in the billow of your victim’s shirt. Your hand shakes, fingers trembling, but guided by Tomura’s movements, it nudges in deeper, and you meet the first level of flesh.

“Now just push it in-”

A small patch of blood begins to bloom outward from the point of contact, piercing his skin as Tomura wedges the blade in deeper with a slow, fluid movement. You could swear that as it embeds further into his skin, that his body quivers and tightens-

“C’mon- Almost there. A few more inches and you’ll be done-”

At this point, he’s the only thing anchoring your hand to the handle, more his efforts than your own. He’s definitely taking far more pleasure in this than you; A terrible, carnivorous smile sliced across his face as he claims your faltering fingers beneath his own. He’s made it perfectly clear what’s to become of you if you dare to defy him, but even as the proverbial guillotine looms above your neck, every instinct in your body screams to shove him off, to run, to hide where he can never find you.

But he’s stronger than you- faster too- made sure to impress upon you that he’s smarter as well. He’s made a point of telling you in explicit detail what will become of you if he has to chase you down again, but the impulse is thrumming through your veins side by side with the adrenaline that makes you nauseous. Even if you could fend him off- even if he couldn’t catch you- you could never go home. He’d spent months planning this down to the marrow. Every little detail orchestrated to look like the handiwork of an unhinged and underappreciated camp councilor- you.

There’s so much blood. On him. On you. Dribbling down the front of the unconscious councilor’s shirt and staining the pastel a stark red that blears your black and white pulsating vision. You can feel his heartbeat in the knife, you swear you can-

“Almost there, baby-”

The blade stills as it meets a meaty wall of resistance and you know it’s reached the his heart. Tomura’s body shivers against yours, knife almost fully driven into the thorax now. You try not to think about how much time it must have taken him to study, how much he must have researched avoiding the sternum and the cage of ribs meant to protect the vital muscle if only to force you to bend for him this way.

“You wanna know something fucked up?” He removes his hand from yours, leaving you gripping the hilt for a split second before you yank yourself backwards, sobbing openly as it stays put, stiffly wobbling slightly from the lack of support once you both withdraw. You turn away from the body, smacking into Shigaraki’s chest even as you try to shove him away. He cradles your face, hands crusted with blood tracing the curve of your cheek, smearing your tears across your skin. “He could technically live through this, if I let him. The heart closes punctures on its own if allowed to do so. At least long enough help could get here.” “Please-” You whine, voice cracking and sinuses draining into your throat and clogging your airway in your distress. “Please! We can leave together, we can go wherever you want! Just call him an ambulance and we’ll go. I’ll go with you willingly, we don’t have to-”

“You’ll come with me anyway, you dumb little slut. I don’t think you’re quite grasping what’s happening here.” He seethes behind clenched teeth, fingers twisting in your uniform. “But I guess you have a point. He doesn’t have to die.”

“Please- Please just-” “Convince me then.”

He pushes you down to the floor again, landing on your knees before him. His hand finds the back of your head, grinding your face onto his crotch hard enough you can feel his stiffening cock against the soft of your cheek.

“What? We don’t have time-” “Better hurry then. Tick tock, princess. I didn’t put a whole lot of effort into finding out how long he can survive.”

Nausea curls up in your gut once more but your fingers still find his zipper, shaking and blinking back tears as you unbutton his trousers. You try to ignore the mocking laugher bubbling in his gut as you fish his cock out from the barrier of fabric, hesitating slightly when your fingers close around the velvety skin of his shaft, hot and throbbing to the touch.

“I don’t know what will be a bigger disappointment- if you don’t know what you’re doing or if you do.” He jeers, taking his dick out of your hands only to slap it against the side of your mouth a few times as he yanks his pantline down enough to free himself fully. “I guess we’ll find out. Either way, you’ll catch on to what I like, won’t you? You were always such a quick little learner.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to rebut, shoving the head of his cock past your teeth in a way that seems almost too eager- like a virgin would. You don’t know much about Tomura- had never even really spoken to him before these past few days, but if you had to guess, judging by the way he’s already breathing heavy and looking down at you with manic eyes and sweating profusely from the nape, this is probably the first time he’s ever been touched intimately like this.

“C’mon!- Suck me already-”

It’s not a surprise. He’s brash and rude and a total loner and butted heads with everyone else from the start, and now he’s responsible for countless deaths as well. He probably never found time to woo anyone between his plotting and abhorrent personality. At least it plays in your favor to some degree, since chances are he’ll cum sooner rather than later. The thought of having to take him down your throat makes you sick, but if it’ll save your friend...

You stick out your tongue past your lips, allowing him to slide his length down your throat without obstruction, blinking your bleary doe eyes up at him as you kitten lick his cock. He shivers with every lave of your tongue, his musky scent invading your nostrils as you try to repress your gag reflex to allow him deeper.

“Oh, fuck yes-“

He stutters his hips, rolling them against your face until you’re flush with the course and curly white litany of hairs nested at the base of his pelvis. His musky busk clogs your senses and cloys up your sinuses, but you’re determined to please him- this isn’t about you anymore- so you shove down the disgust and focus on pampering his cock as best as you can given the circumstances.

“Shit- you’re such a little slut for me. Look at you go, taking my fat cock like a pro-“

You purse your lips around him, locking an airtight seal around the base of his prick and covering your teeth with your lips. The edges swell your lips with every bob of your head, but his moans clue you into the fact that you must be doing something right, so you ignore the discomfort in favor of taking him further down your throat instead.

His hand finds the crown of your head again, closing around your scalp and forcing his cock down into the depths of your throat as he shoves you deeper until your lips are practically pressed against his navel. Gagging is inevitable, as he’s not exactly small, but you try to remind yourself to breathe through your nose instead- though the hot, heady air near his groin does you no favors.

“Come on, baby, take my dick- fuck, you’re such a good little whore for me- suck my cock- fuck, such a good girl-“

He’s close, he’s so close you can taste it. The slimy consistency of precum coats your mouth and he’s throbbing against your throat- he’s almost ready to cum, just a bit more, just a bit-

The tangy smell of blood and arousal sits heavy in the air and even as you want to cry, you swallow him further, closing your throat around him and massaging him with the silken cavern of your throat, letting him fuck your mouth to his liking. Drool spills from the sides of your mouth, swollen lips puffed around his shaft, and he looks at you like he’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

“Gunna cum- gunna come down your fucking throat- you’ll swallow it all-“ his other hand clumsily slaps against your cheek, massaging your cheekbone with hands still blood-wet. “Take it all, you fucking whore- fuck, so pretty, so pretty, all mine now-“

He throbs and you can feel it, cum spurting from his cock down your throat and into your belly. You almost gag, having to force down the sputters with a red face and weepy, bulging eyes. He doesn’t relent his grip, keeping you stuck on his cock as he moans loud and unabashed enough that it leaves you humiliated even as you know that everyone else in the vicinity too long gone to hear it.

You try to swallow it down, try to stomach it all, but it proves just a bit too much. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he’d been withholding for a while. Tapping his thighs, coughing around his length until he finally has the wherewithal to take the hint, he withdraws from you as you cough up small bits of spittle and cum onto the knees of his jeans and your own mouth. You fall down onto your side, hacking up bits of liquid that clearly went down the wrong pipe as he tucks himself away back in his pants.

He kneels down before you, patting your back in a condescending manner with a sinister, lofty smile. You try desperately to get a word out between convulsions, and it doesn’t help that he’s pulling you to your feet before your vision can clear itself, yanking you up into his arms and over his shoulder with one careless heave.

“You did real good, baby- I can’t wait to fuck that tight little cunt of yours when we get back- You’re so perfect- Fuck that was incredible, everything like I dreamed but better-”

You pound on his back, pointing at your friend. They sit limply, knife still jabbed in their chest. Their skin is a sickly pale color, blood running down and pooling in their lap and absorbing into the fabric of their clothing.

“Call- first- please-”

“Huh?” He looks back at the chair and the body tied down to it, grin faltering slightly. “Oh. They’re gone. Long gone. See?” He turns on his heel, bringing his shoe up to kick at the butt of the knife, lodging it deeper into the corpse with one quick stomp of his shoe. There’s no movement, not even a cry or a whimper or a rattle. “They were already dead. I stabbed them in the back of the neck earlier. It was quick, if that makes you feel better. They didn’t feel a thing-” He pats your ass, giving it a quick smack. “But you sure did, didn’t you?”

You wail and kick and scream, energy renewed as his horrific deception and that sickening feeling in your gut plunging further and further into sick. He only cackles, easily keeping you under control with one hand slung around your waist and his shoulder digging into your gut.

“Good call though. Can’t be leaving the murder weapon behind. Memories of our first kill together and all.”

He yanks the knife out in one swift movement, body slumping over from the momentum and you see the ghastly wound right at the base of the back of his neck.

He was already dead. He was already dead.

#Morgana and friends #nsft #tw noncon #hot slaughter #lmao #written hastily do not judge me #watch me make up a shitload about anatomy and death because I don't know #stabbing someone in the heart is one of the few things I've never done before

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fcntasmas-archive · 3 years

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(1)alright okay I am a little late buuut here I am with my personal highlights of 'oh no'-moments and moments that made me squeal into my pillow in chapter 4 <3 I guess my first oh no moment today is just how much I love kai and how sad I am going to be over very likely seeing him be sad sometimes soon ._. xD aaaand I am sad about eddie again!!! the way you put all these subtle hints to his inner turmoil is reaaaally messing me up in the best ways <3 kai wants to meet chris, oh no I am crying

(2)"...but I know he wouldn’t introduce me to Kehlani yet, and I don’t feel like I’d be comfortable introducing him to Chris…yet…” JFC Buck what the hell? god this man is making me want to tear out my hair! (I love him so much tho) and once again you are devastating me with eddie feels! (god I am not even a quarter into the chapter yet and already a mess, I guess as the story amps up my message count per chapter is also going up proportional to how much each chapter makes me feel, good job xD)

(3)buck loves christopher so much and ALWAYS puts him first without hesitation and like eddie it also completely takes me out every time *heart eyes* NOT A LEMONADE-FRUIT-PUNCH-SWAP noooo! "She’s got you. I doubt she’d be looking elsewhere.” asldjfdjgdjs 'Buck wants to scream.' me too buddy, me too xDD THANK YOU ALBERT, amazing xD "Maybe if you tell him you think he’s charming, he could remember he liked us first.” ooooh christopher is not playing fair, huh? I like it xDDD but also charming?!!!!

(4)family tamales? 👀 is abuela just being abuela or did christopher bring her in on the sheme? xD oh man I love that kid so much, he really is the best <3 oh that scene with bobby and athena was pretty amazing “I feel like you know something I don’t.” hfshhh xD noo not eddie being sorry for everything ._. my heart ._. “It’s gonna hurt like a bitch forever,” ????!!!!! this made me gasp out loud OH NO why would you do this to me? oh man oh man no you know what that acutally made me cry holy shit!

(5)'It’s his space, he realizes.' well I am now literally sitting here with tears on my face, not a lot of fanfic can do that! 'He falls asleep forgetting.' nooo .__. but heck yeah baby time *heart eyes* oh man oh man with how much this chapter is hurting me I am pretty sure I'm not ready for the actual angst-chapter (but like, I still can't wait, I am so excited for the angst xD) god I am sorry for the slightly unhinged amount of messages, but as you can see this chapter made me feel a lot <333

fjdsaklfj i'm putting the reply under a read more because this is already so lONG (ily though)

listen all i'm saying is that eddie has been The Hardest to write throughout all of this because i am aware of everything that's happening with him outside of buck's limited pov and at some point the guy's bound to explode fdasjkl

AND HE DOES (and that's why eddie made him his legal guardian in canon can you believe that that is CANON it's canon wow sometimes i'm still in shock) also listen,,, buck high-key flirting with eddie and not realizing it sometimes makes ME want to pull my hair out fdsajkljf

honestly i think christopher doesn't think eddie's abuela would understand but i also think abuela is Not Oblivious to what's happening heheh also I'M SORRY eddie is just Confused right now ok he's just a confused bub

also stop <333 i just really love the idea of buck having to fight for space on his fridge growing up, and then realizing he's had it all along with his favorite people without ever having known/asked for it. i love their little family so much.

i hope you enjoy the next chapter ok it should be out some time today since i ended up rewriting some scenes yesterday instead of just editing them like a normal person

ily thank you so much for your messages as always you're so wonderful ;-; <33

#ripples all the way down #answered #anonymous

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pangolin-404 · 4 years

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Delving into what chapter 2 of Bendy: Rewritten (or just the side scroller AU, as a couple people have called it- still working on a vaguely clever name hh) would be like, where there are choices and reactions! More canon divergence! Things set up and hinted at!

The background music changes. No shame to batim's music, I quite like it, but it can be better. Whenever Sammy's around (carrying the cutout, looking over the band room, giving his ritual spiel) a banjo is added to the bg track. The followers get string instruments, more added depending how many are in the room. The sacrifice room is mainly string instruments

Sammy is somewhat a lost one. He loses his buff rights and is a mix of his pre- and post-update designs. I say somewhat because, while he is skeletal, he drips a lot and doesn't really have feet.

Sammy actually has followers. It can be pieced together from notes and dialogue that he split from the Lost Harbor after a close run in with Bendy permanently mangled his body and converted him to worship. He brought a few other lost ones with him (like, only a dozen but a couple died on the way). They wear Bendy masks, too, yet he's the only one wearing pants (mostly to hold his legs together). He also wears gloves to hold his fingers together, and only takes them off for brief periods to play an instrument before having to put them back on. Bendy left him with a lot of lasting damage

They all look the same and they know it hh

He's a proper prophet figure now that people look up to him. If Henry can find them huddled around a statue in prayer or drawing a ritual circle, they will talk about how much hope he gives them and how kind he is, despite how strict or overly optimistic he can be at times.

The followers' opinion of Henry changes with his behavior. Suggest Sammy is nuts? Say Bendy is evil? Drink too much soup? Break cutouts? They don't like that. Ask to learn more, give them some fresh soup, maybe even draw Bendy for them if Henry comes across fresh paper, and they'll appreciate it.

The cutouts are decorated with soup and candles. Drink a couple cans and the followers won't notice, drink more and they'll be upset, drink them all and they'll get concerned. Ink rats will scuttle out of hiding and can be found licking the empty cans.

Oh yeah you think humans were the only thing the ink affected? No there are ink rats and they scuttle around. Sometimes they become an enemy if multiple melt/fuse together and it's just a Lump Of Rat

"Did you drink the soup?" "No, did you?" "We don't have mouths! We can't eat!" "Who drank all the soup then?" "I don't know, but now there are rats everywhere!"

The whole chapter 2 area is bigger, kind of. Lots more signs of being lived in, with offices turned into little bedrooms and such. The followers are shy, though, and lurk behind locked doors, so finding them is tricky. Signs of life are everywhere but finding the life itself is difficult. Finding ones that talk more than a sentence is even harder.

Sammy is unhinged. Well-meaning, but ultimately mentally...cracked. He claims to have visions he interprets, but it's ambiguous whether they're nightmares/dreams or if Bendy's messing with him. He genuinely believes that Bendy will set them free, and he wants the best for his sheep. He'd be amicable if he wasn't trying to sacrifice Henry.

Instead of pressing the switches to open that first door, Henry had to find a pipe valve. A new "mechanic" of sorts is draining flooded halls. Ink pours down from piped above in an unpassable wall, and one or two valve are needed to shut it off completely.

Remember those notes I mentioned earlier? Well, some found around the music department contain buckets of how the followers see Sammy and their situation in general. They range from "oh hey here's Sammy's favorite tune-" to "note: don't play the organ! D:"

It's possible to find old newspapers and comics. Some of the pictures have been carefully cut out and pasted on the walls in various memorials, ranging from Bendy letting them outside to Sammy being "blessed" by the Ink Demon.

Some of the more petty depictions paint Alice as a jerk. She's an angel, he's a demon, so they're opposites. Since Bendy's so great, she must be awful! Rumors of a cruel Alice in deeper levels are hinted at.

The band room is slightly different. The projector's bulb is burst and there's a sticky note on it saying something about how touching it when you're made of ink is a bad idea, and to fix the projector before Sammy notices. Henry has to find a lightbulb and fix it now before he can turn it on.

The fight after opening the sanctuary affects the followers' opinions. They begin to realize what Sammy has in store for Henry. Killing all the searchers make them either makes them wince or frustrated, depending on their view on him up til that point.

I feel like you could probably click/interact with the banister to look over and it shows a still image of the band room below, and it shows whether or not the projector is fixed/playing and also shows any Bendy cutouts that pop up. I tried to draw that but couldn't get the angle I wanted, so

Sammy's sanctuary is like...just a big ol Bendy shrine. It's also where he sleeps, writes songs to Bendy, and where his banjo is kept. He has a Bendy plush on his bed

The further the chapter goes on, the quieter the followers are to Henry. They're gathering candles and offerings of personal belongings. They might be bittersweet, neutral, or glad to be away from him, depending on Henry's actions.

Jack is important to Sammy. They worked closely together and so they somewhat remember each other. He acts as Sammy's personal treasurer and doesn't let go of anything given to him. The first encounter with Jack is relatively the same, with needing to grab a valve from him. However, instead of holding the valve, it's sitting on the box

Henry's notes in his sketchbook also change depending on his interactions with things. If he annoys the followers and develops a bad relationship with them, he'll treat them like blind fools. If he helps them or is generally nice, he'll sound more sympathetic towards their situation and wish them well.

One is in the infirmary, badly hurt, missing a leg, practically a searcher, and delusional after getting just grazed by Bendy's aura. They believe they've been blessed by his presence, despite falling apart more and more by the hour (Bendy and any ink creature do not go together-). Henry can kill them and put them out of their misery, if he so chooses. The others won't like that.

Whether Henry kills him or not, Jack remembers. Getting items from him in the future becomes harder if he's killed multiple times, until eventually he's downright scared (I'll delve into more detail on the mess that is chapter 3). Befriending him completely later in chapter 3, on the other hand, will make the task easier.

Killing Jack triggers a horror vision. Henry briefly becomes unable to move, visibly distressed and looking around until the vision ends.

Not necessarily the sewers you first encounter him in, but close enough. You know you've entered an area Jack's in if there's a random item on a box that's under a light in an otherwise dim ink-flooded room

He goes through 'stages.' First the valve is on a box. Henry tries to grab it, but Jack (moving through the ink) pushes the box away. The methods of dealing with him is a messy web of cause-and-effect, with chances to crush him, corner the box slowly and steal the valve, it rush at it and cause it to slide off, or snatch his hat and bargain. (It's possible to steal his hat, kill him, and then keep/wear his hat, but why would you do that? Jack would forever loathe Henry and later on Sammy may ask for it back)

Nothing will stop Sammy from knocking Henry out. No matter how kind or cruel Henry is to his followers, Sammy will smack him over the head with a dustpan. He can't run, but the man can be sneaky if he wants to be, lurking through shadows and phasing in and out of the ritual portals.

(Clarification: because it would be a side scroller and the player could see Sammy sneaking up on Henry, instead there's a ritual circle on the wall that he'll jump out of when Henry walks past it.)

The sacrifice room is more of a hallway. The followers are all watching from the sidelines, peering through knocked out walls and over makeshift fenceposts. Candles and other offerings are around Henry. Sammy gives his spiel as always, first starting with a quiet "that face..." whispered mostly to himself but then using his Big Loud Musician Prophet voice to put on a show about how grand the sacrifice will be and how happy Bendy will be. The followers get excited for it.

Messy rendition but you get the picture

Sammy enters the room off to the side and calls for the Ink Demon. Ink leaks from the vents, and his aura is making some of the followers unsteady/weak. They become more restless, and unstable, until the calling reaches its climax (Sammy also sounds out of breath and his voice becomes wet and labored) and Bendy arrives out of sight. Sammy is torn apart, as per usual, though it's a slower, more audible mauling, and drags on through Henry's escape.

Some followers flee into the ink, while one or two are liquidated just by Bendy's aura. Others panic and attack Henry when he breaks free, messed up by Bendy's aura and so they resemble searchers.

Whether or not Henry powers through the onslaught or axes the frenzied followers may alter the number of followers he encounters later on, and (combined with how he'd treated them) how they react to seeing him again. "Oh I kind of remember you" vs "I don't blame you for using the axe" vs "Did you slaughter your way down here, too?"

Like in the updated chapters in game, the you can see ink machine lowering past crates/wood boards

Bendy actually pries himself up out of the ink with effort. Like, hands planted on the ground, lurching up, ink sloughing off of him, generally more detailed for a 2D animation.

Boris time! The boy himself peeks out from behind a wall before stepping out of the shadows

Feel free to send an ask for clarification/more detail about anything- I'm happy to go on more tangents!

#rants #batim au #Bendy: Rewritten #batim but it's a side scroller multiple choice game #but not really a game because i'm not a programmer so i will instead share every single choice and outcome #batim

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