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permanentswaps · 4 months

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The Party Pt. 3

Inspired by @swapping-caps1-deactivated20220 The Party Pt. 1 and The Party Pt. 2

Oct. 31st Halloween 9:00 PM:

Mr. Thompson POV:

Approaching the Sigma Chi house with Xander, the pulsating bass reverberated through the street. A sea of people in funny costumes walked towards the entrance. I guess we were the only ones to get the message to show off tonight.

Flashing a smirk at Xander, I asked, "Are you ready?"

"Let's do this," he said.

Entering the house, we turned just about every head in the room. We attracted jealous stares from some of the frat guys and lustful looks from everyone else. Our destination was clear - the beer pong table.

Effortlessly sinking shots, we quickly found ourselves enjoying a pleasant buzz. Before I knew it, Xander and I had won 5 games. Xander, feeling the effects, started to get a bit handsy. Running his fingertips around my sweaty bare torso, and flirted, "Hey, you're on fire tonight," before biting his lip and turning away.

I shot him a playful "you're crazy, dude" as I blushed and then turned to the table, sinking my next shot.

Eventually, we migrated to the dance floor. As I danced, I could feel the lights playing across my face and the strength of Mitchell's body coursing through my veins. For the second time today, I looked down at my body and thought to myself “this is my body.”

Xander, Spiderman costume that clinging to his pumped-up muscles, danced up next to me. He flashed me a goofy smile as he playfully grabbed my bicep. He looked irresistibly cute.

Teasing him a bit, I flexed my arm, causing his hand to loosen its grip. Then, I reached down and pulled his waist toward me with one hand as I reached behind his neck with the other. Shocked for a moment, his lips were frozen, before he then pushed them back against mine as we hungrily embraced.

"Wow, I didn't think you swung that way," he said, almost out of breath, "but you have no idea how long I've wanted you to do that."

Looking back at him with a cocky smile, I replied, "I can't believe I waited so long … and I've got more surprises in store for you tonight."

Mitchell POV:

Freaking out, I couldn't shake the feeling that things were spiraling out of control. Racing towards campus, I pushed my car's limits, the clock read 11:03 pm. I know my dad had said that he would swap me back when I finished all my work, but I don’t think we had time for that. The old folklore story said that the swap could be permanent if it lasted longer than 24 hours. I don’t know exactly when my dad swapped us, but I couldn’t have that much longer.

Arriving on campus, I rushed towards the Sigma Chi house. Bursting through the door, I quickly scanned the room, desperately looking for my dad or Xander. The sea of costumes made it challenging, and I had no idea what my dad would be wearing.

Amidst the laughter and thumping music, I couldn't spot them. Panic set in as I weaved through the crowd, desperately searching. Every passing moment heightened the urgency.

Suddenly, a frat bro stepped into my path. "Hey, old man, what are you doing here?" he sneered.

"I'm just looking for someone," I replied, trying to maintain composure and look around behind him.

He laughed mockingly, "I don’t think you’re on the guest list. Get lost, grandpa!"

Frustration bubbled within me, but I kept my cool. The frat bro, with a smug grin, pushed me towards the exit.

The door slammed shut behind me. leaving me standing outside in the cool fall night. Time was slipping away, and the unsettling realization that I might be trapped in this body forever.

Mr. Thompson POV:

After a few crazy hours at the Sigma Chi house, Xander and I decided to make our way back to his apartment. Stumbling through the doorway, we quickly made our way towards his bedroom.

Xander, still in his Spiderman costume, turned to me with a mischievous grin. "Well, well, well, look who's ready for more surprises," he said, his voice low and suggestive.

"I did promise you more surprises, didn't I?" I replied, pulling him in for another kiss.

As we tumbled onto the bed, Xander traced his fingertips across my chest, playfully circling them around my nipples.

I quickly peeled off his costume, leaving him in just his briefs before straddling over him in the bed. Bending down to make out with him again, I moved one hand to the elastic strap around his waist, slowly teasing it before finally taking off his underwear and then my own.

I reached down for my pants, which I had discarded on this floor, and fished out a condom. As I went to unwrap it, Xander looks up to me and says, “No need. Tonight, I want all of you.”

Greedily, I rubbed my uncut cock against his hole, lubed with precum and spit. As I slid myself in, I stared thrusting in long, slow strokes, whispering to him “fuck yeah baby, you’re so hot.”

It wasn’t long until I started to feel a familiar pressure growing in my cock. Just as Xander was about to push me over the edge, I activated my power. Suddenly, a familiar surge of energy burst out of my chest towards Xander’s body. Simultaneously, he felt himself launch into my body.

Now, from our new perspectives, I looked up at my face and gave the same cute smirk that had been driving me crazy all night. That was enough to send us both into a powerful orgasm. I felt Xander instinctively bend down and give me a kiss as he coated the inside of my borrowed hole.

Basking in the afterglow, I quickly swapped us back and laid down next to Xander, stroking the inside of his thigh.

“What was that?” he asked.

“Oh, just a little something I picked up from my father,” I responded. “We come from a long line of swappers.”

Xander, still confused, looked back at me.

“You were so sexy, I thought you deserved to know what it was like.” I flirted. “But I’ll be sure to ask you next time.

“Next time?” he said inquisitively. “Well, I like the sound of that.”

As Xander snuggled back up to little spoon me, I reached around his waist and gently kissed his neck. “I thought you might,” I said.

What he didn’t know was that that I locked in my future in this sexy body. You see, the folklore says, “In worst situations, swapper may never return to there original body especially if the swap last longer than 24 hours.” That’s true alright.

However, what the men in my family also found is that, if the swapper swaps with a third person while they were already swapped, they cannot return to their original body ever again.

As Xander and I drifted off to sleep, I reveled in my new sexy form. I thought to myself “this is my body now, and I deserve every inch of it.”

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jinwoosungs · 8 months

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{ 106 }

feel again.

warnings: unedited, spoilers for lies of p, self indulgent. thank you to @kkyos for letting me know the important plot details pertaining to the king of puppets 🔥

romeo - king of puppets - x fem.reader

{ my heart is numb | but with you, i feel again. }

the king of puppets was left severely damaged after his battle with geppetto's puppet...

the one who simply went by p;

the one who carries carlo's memories within his mechanical heart;

the one romeo tried so desperately to warn about-

yet it was all for naught.

the automaton with the chestnut hair and cold, blue eyes never listened nor believed a single word romeo had told him.

so the king of puppets thought if p wouldn't heed his warnings about geppetto's true intentions, then he might as well kill him himself.

but he wasn't expecting p to be so powerful, and it would be fair to say that romeo had severely underestimated him. p seemed to cut him down with ease. for a mere puppet, romeo had to admit how powerful p's conviction was when it came to their battle. the puppet romeo had been controlling, appearing every bit like the true king of puppets, suffered a great blow that caused an explosion.

it left romeo greatly damaged beyond compare, with half of his face melted in the process. so instead of relying on his facade as the king of puppets, he knew he had to fight p in his true form, doing all he could to defeat geppetto's creation.

yet each time p's blade met with romeo's metallic body, he knew that he didn't stand a chance. if romeo wished to survive, he would have to willingly fall and allow geppetto's wishes to come true.

"maybe this is what freedom feels like. thanks, carlo."

he thinks back to his dear friend and the tragedy of his death, and although romeo understood geppetto's desire see him again, he didn't think it was right nor fair to take away p's life in exchange.

yet each time romeo tried to convey these feelings, p displayed no signs of understanding a single word romeo had said, piercing through his shoulder with a thick blade as romeo slumped forward, landing with his face against the velvet floors of the theater. he waits and hears the faint sounds of a conversation going on... of him congratulating p on his defeat.

romeo could feel the thick oil seep through the openings of his armor, and an overwhelming sensation coursing through his form. every part of his body had been slashed by p's weapon, leaving a permanent mark that he was uncertain he could ever recover from.

so, he lays in waiting, waiting for their presence to disappear, waiting for the scent of oil and rust to dampen down just so he can move once more.

romeo was uncertain how much time had passed, but when he could hear the sounds of rain pounding against the cobblestone streets, he shuts his eyes and basks in the refreshing scent for the briefest of moments.

move, you'll die here if they come back.

with his fists clenched, he slowly stands back to his full height, his stature and gait unsteady due to how much damage he had taken in the fight. he allows his dirty blond hair to fall across his face, covering his damaged eye, now shining a bright red instead of its usual onyx grey.

he takes steady movements, coming out of the opera house as the rain washes over him. strange, gasping noises were heard coming from his parted lips, his movements a slow, crawling pace. the downpour was getting stronger, creating puddles against the streets of krat.

as the rain dampens his locks of hair, romeo was forced to look at the damage he had sustained. his hair was torn in as the left side of his face was completely melted off, revealing a bright red iris settled in the middle of a wide expanse of black. his hands tremble, ready to touch against the part of his face that made him a monster when a sudden gasp was heard.

his ears could detect the sound, facing the sound as his eyes met with a young woman's-

met with your gaze.

the umbrella that was held in your hand drops at the mere sight of him, and even when his mind seemed to short circuit at the fact that someone had seen him in such a vulnerable state, he couldn't deny that you were beautiful.

from the way your hair framed at your face, to the brightness of your eyes and the curve of your lips...despite how utterly long it had been since he was a human, he remembers what it feels like to cherish the beauty in things that he admired-

and you were by far the most beautiful sight he had ever seen in a long time.

he watches you, as if drawn to you, like your presence was pulling him towards you. his hands reach out to you, and he was shocked to find that you didn't flinch away from him. his fingertips were just centimeters away from gracing your cheeks when a flash of lightning cuts through him, illuminating his features once more as he saw his reflection within the puddles.

with a low, anguished cry, romeo was forced to back away from you, turning away as he allowed his legs to carry him away. just what was he thinking? he was a monster, and you were so beautiful- reminding him of all the fairies and princesses he had read about in those fairytales.

you would be disgusted with him, regardless of how much he was drawn to you.

but when he feels a sudden pull against his wrist, stopping him from going any further, romeo turns back to see you clinging to him. "wait, please, don't go...!"

it was strange, but he could feel your hands against his cold, metallic body, transferring your warmth into him as yet another overwhelming emotion fills him.

instead of feeling pain surrounding his body, he felt something pierce into his chest, the place where his own mechanical heart lay as it ached at the sight of your proximity, filling him with a desire to reach out his hand to brush back at your hair. he allows his fingertips to grace your features for a brief second before his vision turns completely black, hearing your voice echoing as he succumbs to his injuries.

{ ... }

the moment he awakens, he was aware of the fire burning brightly from in front of him.

now in a panicked state, romeo sits up, ready to attack had it not been for the fact that you were currently settled before the blazing fire. when his eyes adjust to his surroundings, he was fully aware of how he was safely tucked into a small bed with a comforting fire remaining ablaze within the fireplace.

"ah, it's nice to see that you're awake. you had me worried there." romeo remains silent, simply watching you while admiring the sound your voice. it was hard to explain, but he felt a sense of tranquility each time you spoke to him.

you tell him your name as you were now pacing the room, with your eyes straying to him every so often, "although you are so much taller than me, i was determined to carry you back with me to my home. i managed to clean you, getting rid of all that rust and oil to the best of my abilities before laying you in my bed."

when you finished speaking, you appeared sheepish then, scratching the back of your head while giving him a tiny smile. "i was really afraid that you wouldn't open your eyes, but i'm so happy that you did."

your sudden kindness makes romeo feel a tightness in his chest, making him look away from you. "what made you wish to help a monster like me?"

the cold edge heard in his voice was enough to make you stop in your tracks, ceasing your pacing around the room when romeo continues, "i'm part of the automatons that went rogue. if i so desired, i could kill you irregardless of your humanity."

"but you were hurt, and i could not leave you, even if you can kill me."

you admit to him without hesitation, making romeo face you once more. when he held your gaze, he saw no fear in your eyes, watching you as you stepped closer to him. you never once looked away from him, settling yourself on the bed with him.

no words were spoken, and you find yourself leaning closer to him. romeo flinches away from you, seeing your hands reaching out to him. his actions make you halt for a moment, but you end up pushing through anyways and allow the palm of your hand to caress at his cheek.

with a gentleness romeo had never felt before, he feels the way your hands frame at his face. despite how much romeo held a deep sense of self loathing for what had become of him and his face, he could not bring himself to hurt you by pushing you away. for some odd reason, he just knew that you meant no harm, and the thought of hurting you made his chest display this strange ache again.

"don't be afraid of me...and don't pull away." your voice was as soft and sweet as a lullaby, tracing at each and every part of his features. from his cold, full lips to his pale skin and the few freckles that decorate it. when he feels your fingertips touch at the melted portion of his face, he found himself leaning in to your touch.

"tell me, what is your name?"

as if caught under your spell, romeo closes his eyes, basking in your closeness as he relinquishes his name to you.

"romeo."

he figured that would be the farthest extent of your touches, yet when your face suddenly leans forward and he could feel the sensation of your lips against his ruined features, romeo felt his chest explode yet again with an unknown, overwhelming sensation-

he had read about this action in books before, what you had given him was a kiss, and a kiss was always meant to be shared between those who shared a particular fondness for each other-

shared between those who loved each other.

yet romeo found that he did not dislike your kiss, not even in the slightest.

you keep your lips pressed against his cheek for a few more beats before pulling away to whisper, "i know you won't hurt me, because i won't ever hurt you..."

you meet his gaze once more, smiling brightly at him when you admit, "you are perfect...and beautiful to me."

with your soft kindness and beauty filling him, romeo found himself looking at you with a sense of longing, the once still mechanical heart that was locked in his chest suddenly feeling as though it was coming to life for the first time in years.

romeo acts on this strange desire, hands placing themselves on your neck as he brings you even closer to him, copying your prior movements when he places his own, cold lips against the heated skin of your forehead, allowing them to warm him when he whispers to you,

"with you, i feel again."

a.n. - i am so in love with romeo. after my friend had revealed him to me in a leak, and i could hear what he sounded like, i am so, utterly in love with him. this is so self indulgent and i am soooo sorry.

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#king of puppets x reader #romeo x reader #lies of p x reader #lies of p x you #.stories

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its-your-mind · 10 months

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okay. I’ve slept and I’ve stared at the ceiling and I think I’m finally ready to put all of this into words. I’ve been building up this post in my head… basically since the moment we learned about Ashton’s chronic pain, and I think this episode finally helps me synthesize all of it. Taliesin was on FIRE this episode. (also this got way longer than I thought, so it’s going behind a read more. I just have so many FUCKING emotions about this punk rock.)

I know I’ve mentioned this a few times before, but I, like Ashton, have full-body constant chronic pain. Sometimes it gets worse with extended physical activity, sometimes it just gets worse out of nowhere. Some days are good, which means the parts of me that hurt aren’t getting in the way of me doing things too much, but there are never, ever days without pain.

I think Ashton fucking nailed it here:

And here’s the thing about background noise. Most of the time, you don’t even notice it’s there. Your brain filters it out, takes it and files it away as something that doesn’t need any conscious focus. But sometimes, something that is normally background noise can become completely overwhelming - think a ticking clock that you don’t usually notice, but when you’re waiting for something, it becomes all that you can hear, and your brain can't pull its attention away.

And, at least for me, chronic pain can sometimes become like an endlessly ticking clock in my perception. Obviously, my body is in pain, which is not fun in and of itself, but on the bad body days, my mental functions become severely limited as well. My memory is shot, my thoughts come slowly, and it’s so much easier for bright lights and loud noises to cause my brain to bluescreen for a few seconds.

There’s just too much sensory input for the brain to process.

And on those days, it can just be easier to shut down. Lay down in bed and not move or think, because moving and thinking is just too hard. And when resting isn't an option, there’s a pretty significant percentage of my brain that’s just focused on trying to filter out that background noise of pain, and it becomes so difficult to function as normal. One clock might not take up too too much brain power, but imagine if there were five. Ten. A few dozen.

I’ll get back to Ashton in a minute, I promise.

The brain might be able to turn those ticking clocks into background noise, but it’s harder to do that the louder they are. Your thoughts get sidetracked because it’s almost impossible to focus on anything but those clocks, and even when you’re able to ignore them for a bit, it doesn’t take much for you to be reminded that they’re still there, and your mind turns back to that ticking, ticking, ticking…

When you’re in pain, you learn to stay tense and alert. You economize your words and movements, because you only have so many before your body makes it too hard to function. You have to build up necessary boundaries for yourself, because without them, you’ll become a shell of a person, disconnected from a body that's just... not fun to be inside of.

And it’s so easy to let those boundaries become a permanent, defensive wall, built to keep the world at bay, because the world is where the pain comes from.

Ashton’s chronic pain might not have started until their fall from the balcony, but he’s never lived a life without emotional pain.

And so you have this person who has lived through so many awful things who should be dead several times over, who now lives with this constant, insistent, physically painful reminder that the world is cruel and harsh, and even your family can’t be trusted to keep you from getting more hurt.

So yeah. He’s fucking pissed off at the whole world. He’s lived through some fucking bullshit, so can you fucking blame him for building up walls around himself? How the fuck is he expected to survive in this world without defenses?

So he builds those necessary defenses that anyone with chronic pain has to get good at building, something to deafen the feeling of constant pain, and he makes them into a permanent fixture of his personality. They turn these necessary internal defenses into a hostile fortification, into anger, into rage, into a weapon that can hurt the world just as much as the world has hurt them.

And then, the Hells.

All of a sudden, they have a new family.

And the thing is. The thing! Is!! Ashton has always always been someone who cares so much, someone who loves their family recklessly and totally, even after the Nobodies abandoned them to die on the ground beneath Hexum's house. They’re protective, they take people in, they stand up for the people who can’t stand up for themselves. But it’s always been from behind the safety of that wall.

And the walls have started to come down.

The world might be cruel and painful and fucking shitty, but dammit, there are still things in it worth saving.

Letting people see your vulnerabilities might lead to more pain, but isn’t it just… so liberating? To not have to put so much energy into keeping those walls up?

These people. His new family. They’ve opened up to each other. They’ve all shared some of their darkest secrets, they’ve trusted each other with their lives, they’ve gone above and beyond, over and over again, to make sure that not one of their people is left behind, not ever. No matter what.

So now, for maybe the first time in his life, Ashton has something solid to stand on that he didn’t have to build for himself. He doesn’t have to maintain his walls with these people, because his family knows how to tread carefully, and they all do their best not to do anything that might inadvertently cause each other more pain.

Because here’s the thing about chronic pain. To a certain point, you just have to accept that shit is going to fucking hurt, and you’re gonna do it anyway. Instead of living in daily, constant fear of making the pain worse, you evaluate the things that you want to do with your time, and decide whether or not they’re worth the pain that they’ll cause.

Ashton started throwing himself at physical danger almost as soon as he was off Milo’s workbench. He’s no stranger to choosing things that will increase the pain in his body.

But the pain in their mind? Fuck that. We’re not going to look too closely at what the fuck is in there, because that is a fucking bridge too far.

Let their brain process the pain, and keep the rest of their shit on lock.

But now… they’ve let their family in, past those walls. They quite literally let Imogen and FCG go into their mind, multiple times, to find the things that they’ve buried deep, deep inside because they don’t want to look too closely at them. They didn’t have room in their own brain to process that pain.

But now… they’ve learned about where they came from. They know where their roots are. But more importantly, they know who their foundation is. They know that it’s safe to let these people in past those walls, because the Hells are people he can trust with all of himself, not just the solid and dangerous exterior.

And so now that they know that, it’s freed up so much more room in their mind to focus on actual, tangible goals!

He’s able to take time and space for his family, just as they’ve all taken time and space for him.

Now that the Hells have become his firm ground, he’s able to become theirs.

He knows how to be a wall, a tank, a shield. He knows how to deal with physical pain.

But now, they’re learning how to be a rock, a safe place, a firm foundation. That’s harder. That’s more complicated. That involves vulnerability, and the ability to sit and talk and process and think. That’s not something they’re always able to do, but they know now that they can do it. He’s learned how from the rest of his family, from seeing the ways that they all support him.

The world still fucking sucks. The gods have never seemed to give a single fuck about Ashton Greymoore, and he’s spent his whole life being thrown away and cast aside by the people who were supposed to take care of him. His body is wracked with the constant reminder of betrayal and abandonment. But now, they have something new to fight for. They don’t have to fight to save the gods. They don’t need to aspire to anything that lofty. But their family is here, dammit, and they’re not going to fucking lose them and so…

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rollinouttahere-writes · 11 months

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I have came far and wide dear maiden to ask you …PLEASE , PLEASE YANDERE PAULIE!! I’m fine with platonic or romantic I just need more content for this man he’s a rare gem 🥰😍

I feel like he be the type to use rope to keep his darling safe and captured but if reader ever wants to escape just show some skin and watch him fumble XD

I've got lots of Paulie requests, so here's a short drabble about that one specific idea. Hope you like it!

Desperate Times, Desperate Measures

Yandere Paulie x Fem!Reader

.7k words

Tonight was supposed to be a cute little night in with your boyfriend, that’s it. Paulie had invited you over for dinner and to just hang out afterwards, so imagine your shock when you get there only to see all the windows nailed shut and an obscene number of locks on the door.

Lucky for you, he’d made one massive oversight and forgot about the bathroom window. You’re not sure if he actually forgot, or if he’d just assumed it wasn’t big enough for you to escape through. Regardless of the reason, you were able to squeeze yourself out of it and were currently sprinting away from his home.

“(Y/N)! Get back here, this is for your own good!” You cursed under your breath as you heard his boots running right for you.

You try to turn the corner and get out of his direct line of sight, but are brought to a halt by a rope wrapping itself around your arm and tightening. The sudden loss of momentum nearly bowls you over, but you manage to catch yourself.

“Please just calm down, we can talk this out,” Paulie huffs out between breaths. The hand that isn’t clutching onto the rope attached to you is held out as if he’s trying to placate a scared animal.

“Talk this out?! Are you insane?! You tried to kidnap me!” You spat at him.

“I did not! Don’t think of it like that! I was just- just- I was relocating you. Permanently,” his voice teetered off towards the end in what you hoped was realization. He shook his head, “It doesn’t matter, let’s go back home and we can talk more there.”

Nope, Nevermind. He’s actually unhinged.

“NO! Get away from me, you freak,” you screamed, desperately trying to get the rope unfastened from your arm.

“Would you keep it down?! People are going to think I’m hurting you!” Paulie hissed. He was pulling on the rope to drag you closer and was only a few steps away now. If you didn’t do something quick, he was going to take you away again, and you don’t think you’ll be able to escape as easily this time around.

In a fit of desperation, an idea came to you. An awful, terrible idea, but one that just might work. You stopped pulling away, and instead faced him fully. Your abrupt lack of resistance gave Paulie pause, and he eyed you warily, not sure what to make of this quite yet.

Your hand found purchase on the front of your button up blouse. You clutched the shirt tightly, then violently ripped it open sending buttons flying everywhere.

Paulie’s confused face turned bright red and his arms rose up to shield his eyes from the scandalous view, “What do you think you’re doing, you harlot! See! This is why I’m doing this! The world is corrupting you!”

While he’s screeching about your “indecency”, you’re able to slip the rope off and hand it to a yagara tied to a nearby dock. You free it and tell the animal to leave. Understanding the assignment, the yagara nods, takes the rope into its mouth, and takes off down the canal.

Paulie is immediately yanked into the water and is flailing and splashing as the yagara drags him away from you. You can hear him yelling for you to not leave, but you of course don’t listen and keep running now that you’ve gotten him off your tail for the time being.

There’s only one place you can think of that you can go. The train station. Nowhere else will truly be safe. Not only is Paulie well respected in Water 7, he has friends in very high places. If he decides to pull some strings, there won’t be anywhere you can go within the city where someone will be willing or able to help you.

The last train of the day should be leaving soon. If you can get on and it leaves before Paulie catches up, then you’ll be in the clear for the time being.

And if worse comes to worst, you suppose you can try and kill him by flipping up your skirt if you see him again.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #yandere one piece #yandere #paulie #paulie one piece

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gilly-moon · 2 months

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For blackice specifically, might ask for:

47, 61, 72, or 84?

~harley

Hehe thank you for all the prompts!! This one's an AU where Jack remains stuck in the ravine in Antarctica, leaving the Guardians to fight Pitch alone.

⟡

61 : “I must admit, it would’ve been easier to get rid of you if you weren’t so beautiful.”

The stars had all been swallowed up.

A heavy blanket had been pulled over the world, manufacturing an unending night that even the moon was unable to illuminate. The empty stillness provided false comfort that let Jack forget about where he was and what he’d done. Darkness was the only forgiving thing around him.

Fingers wrapping one by one around a shard of ice, he tried to remember what it felt like to hold his staff. To be powerful. How long had he been stuck in this ravine, anyway? How many weeks since Pitch had flung him down here, taking the broken staff and box of teeth with him? It was probably in pieces somewhere now, buried in the earth or floating across the seven seas.

He squeezed the ice, and it glowed faintly with the last remnants of his power. Only the corner of the ravine he was curled in was visible by its light.

Baby Tooth had left him on his insistence that first day he was trapped down here. At least one of them could go to the Guardians and try to help. He hadn’t seen her since, and two days after she left, the sky had gone permanently dark. There was no way of knowing for sure what had happened, but he could assume. The despair was gnawing at his gut like maggots.

“Have you reconsidered your answer?”

The ice in his grip flared with blue light as anger rose into Jack’s throat, freezing the space behind his eyes until it burned.

“Leave me alone,” he grit out through clenched teeth.

Pitch paid him no mind, stepping close enough that the base of his robe was illuminated by the small circle of light around Jack.

“Pity,” Pitch sighed. “A little cold is all I need to make this new world perfect.”

“I thought you wanted me to be alone.” Jack glared up into the gloom, catching only the hint of a sharp jawline and two glowing eyes of silver. Everything else was darkness.

“For a time, perhaps. But now that this world is mine -”

“NO.”

Jack shot to his feet. He couldn’t escape this ravine - he’d already tried until his fingers and toes were bloody and raw - but he turned and walked for the other end of the narrow space in an attempt to at least put some distance between them.

He’d barely taken two steps before a hand lashed out from the shadows before him, grabbing him by the hoodie and slamming his back into the nearest wall. A web of cracks spread over its surface. His ribs ached from the impact, the glowing piece of ice falling from his hand and flickering out as he reached up to try and claw the hand off of him.

“Always so feisty,” Pitch muttered, almost as if to himself.

A second hand appeared at Jack’s neck, closing around it and pressing dangerously against his windpipe. Instinctively, he sucked in a breath, feet kicking out at empty air.

“In that regard, I suppose you and the Guardians really were alike. I almost regret that their fires weren’t burning as brightly that night after I left you here.”

Some of the fight drained from Jack’s limbs. A weak noise rasped out of him, mind running wild with images of the Guardians, falling one after the other to Pitch’s scythe. He thought of Baby Tooth, and his thoughts fractured apart, refusing to believe it.

“Everything’s gone so smoothly with all of you out of the way. Although…I must admit, Jack.”

Warmth closed in on Jack, trapping him against the wall as Pitch lined up their bodies to hold him in place.

“It would’ve been easier to get rid of you as well if you weren’t so beautiful.”

“Shut up,” Jack hissed, skin crawling from the supposed compliment.

Condensation was already forming against his brow from their proximity. The hand on his throat and the warm breath against his ear sent shivers down to his toes. He’d never known anyone who ran so hot that he actually felt like he might melt. He felt sick.

“There are other ways I could persuade you,” Pitch whispered against his skin. “Would you like to know how?”

I hate you, Jack thought desperately, but the words couldn’t get past his throat. In a last ditch effort, he tugged at the core of ice inside him, begging it to respond even without the staff to channel it. Ice crackled out along Pitch’s arm where his hands still rested, but Pitch merely released an amused chuckle at the pitiful defense.

“This was never your fight, Jack.”

But Jack had fought anyway. And like everything else, he’d screwed it up. Now there was no more Baby Tooth. No box of memories. No Guardians, and it was all his fault.

Pitch had been right all along.

“But we could be your future,” Pitch murmured, his threatening grip shifting into a warm embrace.

Jack’s hands fell limp to his sides, and he let the darkness consume him whole.

#blackice #my writing #rotg #rise of the guardians #pitch black #jack frost

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demondamage · 19 days

Text

@medwhumpmay Day 2: Running out of Time

Just words today! No art sorry! Also Ivior is a lot less known buut if you hang with me on discord you may recognize the name

Characters: Ko, Ivior, Aziphem (mentioned) Alejo(mentioned

Word count: 1292

CW: Kinda more Lab than Medical whump, threats, mass murder mention

There was a knock at the door.

Nothing good ever came from a knock. Alejo and Haziel knew to let themselves in, and other than them, Ko would typically take visitors elsewhere. People in the lab meant people near Aziphem, people that could hurt his little demon and set back the progress he had made.

He had never cared this deeply for a subject. For as much as a little shit as Aziphem could be, Ko found himself fond of the creature. Protective even. Which was why he had no intent to answer the knocks if they would go away on their own.

They, of course, did not.

Maybe Haziel had forgotten his keys, Alejo needed him for something, or maybe there were just some papers he needed to sign. Ko knew he wouldn’t be this lucky, but he could hope.

“Doctor Sakamoto. Er, you go by doctor now, right? If I remember the rumors you were more of a healer than a scientist in life, but if that’s what you’re pretending to be I’ll respect it.”

“And if I believed every rumor about you, you’re really lucky you became an angel before the concept of a war crime was legally enforceable.” Ko quipped back, hardly missing a beat. He just- knew who would be there when the knocks refused to leave. “What do you want, Ivior?”

Curly red hair wound its way neatly around the other angel’s freckled face, matching the bright red lips and permanently flushed cheeks as Ivior smiled his almost fanged grin. “Is it too much to ask to see how your research of subject 011 is going? We’re peers, colleagues, two intrepid minds braving a new path through study and science-”

“The last time we talked you were cursing me out and demanding my project get shut down.” Ko interrupted, folding his arms and blocking the doorway. “You have made it very clear you have no care for my search for a cure than to do everything in your power to make it more difficult. As such, no.”

“Oh come on, you know your little passion project’s getting shut down soon enough. You got what, a year? Might as well show me now, while 011’s still yours.”

“The council will review my work in 9 months and 14 days, I am aware. At which time it will be up for an extension if my results prove a reasonable possibility that a cure for the demonic condition exists.”

“Like the last extension they gave you?”

Ko cringed slightly, nose crinkling at Ivior’s hardly subtle reminder that his last review had resulted in a cut in his time, not an extension. “I have high hopes. The current medication combined with the holy water treatments have produced physical and behavioral results. He is less of a threat now to both us and himself. My process works.”

“Your process is both labor and time intensive, hardly the results the council wants.” Ivior leaned forwards, meeting Ko scowl with a smirk. “Besides, we both know your treatment isn’t what made him submit.”

“Cut the shit, why are you here?”

“Mm there goes that ‘doctor’ attitude, I knew I’d get through to you.” Ivior extended his hand, glass vials clinking between his fingers. “I want samples. You’re right, there is a physical change and I think it may be useful to my research.”

“No.”

“I’ll get them through the council, you really want to make this difficult? That’s a lot of unneeded paperwork.”

“Good.” Ko snorted. “I hope you curse my name with every form you fill out.”

“Come on.” Ivior sighed, the coy demeanor faltering. “I can be in and out in 5 minutes if you restrain him for me. Doctor Sakamoto… Ko… you know that my research is what is going to end this conflict, return balance to this world. You’re a footnote at best, a fringe idea that maybe helps in the long run. We both want the same thing, no more demons. Help me save the world.”

“I want to cure those suffering of a condition outside of their control, to make their symptoms manageable and help them have a life similar to ours. To create allies where there once were enemies.” A quiet pause, broken only by the ticking of the wall mounted clock. “You want an efficient massacre.”

For once, the notoriously wise mouthed Ivior said nothing. Deciding he did not care to hear any response the other angel could make, Ko continued.

“Assuming those are all for blood, you can fill out forms 417 A-C for each sample. For other tissues you can check my index, I have all necessary forms listed there. If you want to do this in my lab you can fill out form 37-A, or if you want me to bring him to your lab you can fill out 37 B-D as well as the necessary transport forms. File with the council and I will find time for you within 3-5 days based on my schedule. If this is an urgent request you can-”

“Aziphem, that’s 011’s name right.” Ivior interrupted, finally finding his voice.

“That would be correct as far as I am aware.”

“You know what’s going to happen to Aziphem when your project gets shut down?”

“He will be either reassigned or terminated, I am aware. I have had other subjects.” The words felt– fake. Of course Ko knew Aziphem would be executed or taken from him- but the concept failed to realize in his mind. He would be successful. Aziphem would be cured. And - well he planned on continuing his rehabilitation. There was no outcome he could conceive that involved him losing his little demon.

The concern must have bled into his expression because Ivior’s dark leer returned.

“That’s right, and if 011 goes back for reassignment, you know who’s getting first pick for him right? He’d be useful for my tests, sure, something is different about him. But- I could just add him to another mass test. He could become just another corpse, pointless. Worth nothing more than the simple joy that I would get from turning your prized pet into just another body on the ground. All your work, just a data point on a graph for my resea-”

The resulting smack echoed off the hall, silencing Ivior as he rubbed his cheek in shock. The loud voices had drawn nosy eyes, peering through peepholes and cracking open office doors to see the bitter rivalry unfolding in the hallways but the slap silenced their hushed whispers.

“You fucking–”

“Hit you. Yes.” Ko shoved Ivior back, the redhead stumbling into the office hallway. “And if you say one more fucking word I will do it again.”

“I’d fucking kill you in a fight.”

“And our master would kill you for even trying.” Ko stepped back into the doorway, closing it except for a crack. “Show up at my door without an appointment again and you’ll be dealing with Alejo, not me.”

“Fuck you!”

The lock clicked before Ivior could pound his fist against the steel, but even the 3 inch door couldn’t muffle his words.

“You’re running out of fucking time Ko, your cure will fail, and I can’t wait to see how hard you fall for it.”

There was one last kick to the door, Ivior always needed to be dramatic, and Ko finally breathed as he heard the footsteps retreat down the hall. That problem was solved.

But Ivior was right, he was running out of time. And if he couldn’t save Aziphem…

No. He wouldn’t allow that. Ko had planned to give the demon the night off but he couldn’t be so gentle anymore. Time was short, and there was work to be done.

#necrotrophic soul #Ko Sakamoto #Ivior #demondamagewriting #whump #lab whump #angel whumper #demon whumpee

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ace-of-clubs-and-diamonds · 7 months

Text

Done with Blood Fest Week 4! Keywords were “enliven” and “raw”, and I used the prompts “mask”, “knife”, and “venom”. Fun fact, Danny Johnson was my first ever slasher crush, but I’ve never actually written for him before. So I figured this was a good chance to go ahead and do that! Dunno if I’ll write him again, but I enjoyed this.

And I hope you guys do too! <3

Epitome of Sweet Misery

AO3 link: Here

Pairing: Danny Johnson/Ghostface x GN Reader

Rating: Mature, NSFW

Word Count: 1,123

Content warnings: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, knifeplay, painplay, marking, crying, grinding, choking, threat of death, toxic relationship, it’s not Stockholm Syndrome but it’s got that kind of vibe, voice kink, only mildly tho, implied blowjobs, written with the intent of Ghostface being Danny Johnson but tbh it’s vague enough that you can imagine whichever Ghostface you want

You knew it was on purpose. You knew he wanted it to hurt.

Yes, the alcohol was to keep the wound sterilized – “Can’t have you dying on me yet,” he’d whispered, saccharine venom dripping from the words. But the fact that it did hurt, that every dab of the alcohol-soaked cloth after every slice sent fire roaring through your veins? It was fully intentional.

He wasn’t stupid. But he did love to make you squirm.

The gloved hand shifted against your back. You braced yourself. With tender, agonizing slowness, the tip of the knife dragged against your skin. Your flesh split open, spilling more blood down your back and sides, and you grit your teeth, twisted your fingers in the sheets and squeezed your eyes shut to keep more tears from falling. Then the alcohol-soaked cloth followed. Needle-sharp pain burned through the cut. You choked on a sob and shuddered through it, riding out the pain until it faded and only a drunken, dream-like high was left.

“There you go. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he purred. The cheap plastic of his mask brushed against your shoulder. Even with its presence, even with the voice changer, you could still hear the smile in his voice. “You’re doing so good, baby. Only three letters to go.”

He slid his free hand around your waist and pulled you flush against him, your back to the solidness of his front. The fabric of his costume rubbed against your raw, sensitive wounds, and you twitched, biting down a noise of discomfort. But then you were biting down a moan as he rolled his hips and made it impossible to ignore the hardness pressed up against your ass.

A promise for what was to come once you were finished.

It had been his idea – to carve his moniker into your flesh, to mark you as his. The two of you’d been going at this long enough that you might as well make it official, and who needed a ring when he had a knife? Who needed to announce it to the world when it could be your secret? If he’d said it any earlier, before your fear and dread of his visits shifted to eagerness and anticipation, you would’ve screamed at him. Told him no, are you insane? Permanently fucking up your body so you could never truly be free from him? No. No. He could go shove that knife up his ass.

But now? Once the shock had worn off, glee had taken hold. It didn’t matter that you didn’t know his real name, his real face. He wanted you. He wanted you so badly that he wanted to carve his want into your flesh. The idea of that name – Ghostface – permanently etched into your skin, knowing that you’d be explicitly undeniably his, body and soul, forever….

It was worth it. Worth the pain. Worth the agonizing, teeth-gritting, sob-inducing pain.

You drew in a shaky breath.

Only three letters to go.

“Come on.” He traced little circles along your abdomen, just low enough to be tantalizing. “Don’t give up now. You’re so close.” The way he said it, so suggestively, voice dropping at the last word – your insides clenched. “I’m so close.” Another roll of his hips. You moaned softly.

“Okay,” you panted out. “Okay.”

You leaned forward, giving him access to your back. He hummed with satisfaction and stroked your skin. Admiring the canvas of your body. Before putting brush to canvas and painting it red again.

You held your breath, heart hammering its way up your throat as he cut and carved and sanitized. Tears flowed freely down your cheeks. One cut. Two cuts. A third. A swipe of the alcohol cloth that made you dig your fingernails into your palms and bury your teeth into your lip. The letter “A” done. A long, curving cut next for the “C”. Another wipe of the alcohol cloth. He was hard against you as a sob threatened to escape. He was enjoying this, your pain, your struggle to contain it. Somewhere deep inside, bitterness festered at the thought. But it was soothed by a sweet caress, by a whispered, “You’re so good for me. Almost there, baby.”

And oh, did you want to be good for him.

You were soaked in sweat and blood at this point. Lungs too small as you tried to get enough air in to combat the pain, to keep from jerking away or squirming at the wrong moment. Almost there almost there almost there. Four more cuts, one more swipe of alcohol, and you were done.

Fuck, fuck, you could do this.

One cut. The vertical stem of the “E”. A whimper forced its way out. A tremor went through your body. You desperately clutched at the sheets. Then a horizontal line coming from the bottom of the stem. Pain burned through every muscle, every vein, every atom.

Then the third line.

You couldn’t help it. A cry burst out of you as you arched in pain. Then a hand clamped around your throat, cutting you off mid-sob. You choked. Struggled for air. Writhed.

“You were doing so well,” he hissed in your ear. Even as he sounded angry, he sounded excited, enlivened, as if your failure was just more fuel for his pleasure. “You were so close. You almost did it perfectly. And you messed it up at the last second.”

You clawed at his fingers around your windpipe. Your head swam, pulse pounding like a jackhammer to the skull. And then he let you go. You doubled over, hacking and desperately sucking air in. Even as you struggled to breathe, heat and arousal flooded your system. At this point, what was the threat of death but an aphrodisiac?

“What am I going to do with you, hmm?” You barely heard his words over the sound of your own coughing. Not till fingers were digging into your cheeks and forcing you to look into the lifeless eyes of the contorted, screaming mask. Tears blurred your vision, even as you thought, He loves me. Surely, he loves me. “Now what?” he whispered.

You could guess. Punishment, of some kind. A teasing, delicious, cruel punishment where he got to cum and you didn’t, where he used you like a mindless fucktoy to satisfy his own pleasure and you weren’t allowed to give yourself any release.

“Get down on the ground.”

You instantly crawled off the bed and dropped to your knees. And as you looked up at him, at that pale visage as he stood before you and started unbuckling his belt, anticipation heated your gut and pooled lower down.

What were you if not a loving victim and a perfect plaything?

#ace writes #sfbf23 #danny johnson #ghostface #danny johnson x reader #ghostface x reader #notsft

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maynardmaniac07 · 2 years

Note

Is there any way to get a real good Harry Lewis smut? 👀 like everyone thinks he’s so shy and gentle but once he’s behind closed doors is game over lmao

A/N: I can sure have a go for you! I hope you enjoy it

Certain Settings (Harry Lewis/WroeToShaw Smut)

Y/N's POV

When you look at Harry, what do you think?

Shy?

Awkward?

Well he is all of those things... in certain settings

I can honestly tell you as his girlfriend of 4 years, he is an animal in the bedroom

He is so adventurous it is unreal!

He will literally do it anywhere and everywhere

Some of the places we have done it are definitely not legal

But I won't go any deeper into that

Our sex life will never be boring

We are currently out at a restaurant with all the boys and their girlfriends finishing our desserts off and Harry told me to put a vibrator in and he has been messing about with the remote this whole time

I have tried to keep a straight face all evening but its been a struggle

He has a remote on his phone and he keeps turning it up to high and then completely off.

By the time, everyone has finished their desserts, I am permanently glaring at Harry from across the table

"So who's going to club then?" JJ asks

There are a few mumbles in agreement from everyone

"Actually me and Y/N are going to go home, I promised that we would have some alone time" Harry explained

Everyone lets out a laugh in unison

"So that means that you two are going to go home and fuck" Ethan says

"Don't do anything we wouldn't do" Freya says with a wink

"And don't forget protection" Talia says as everyone gets up from he table

I roll my eyes at everyone as we say our goodbyes and Harry guides me out of the restaurant and into an uber

When we get into the back seat, Harry pulls me close

"You've been such a good girl for daddy, haven't you?" he mumbles into my ear

"Yes daddy" I reply back quietly even though the taxi driver isn't deaf and is probably heard us already

"Daddy's going to fuck you nice and good when we get home, do you think you deserve daddy's cock?" He questions

"Yes daddy, I've been a good girl! I need your cock" I plead quietly

Harry hums

"Well baby, we will have to see. If your good, I might let you cum twice, one from you toy and one from daddy's cock" He says

I feel Harry's hand travels down under my dress and runs his hand up and down my thong that is between my pussy lips

Harry has a thing about me wearing thongs, he loves to see it when it is pulled up high and the material is sat between my pussy lips

It turns me on as well so I can't complain

When he feels it, I see a smile spread across his face

"This is just how I like it princess, a toy in you and your panties tight against your pink cunt" He mumbles to me before he pulls me into a kiss

It isn't long before we get back to our flat

Harry is quick to drag me up to our flat

We are quick to get in and as soon as I shut the door behind us, Harry pushes me against it

“I can’t wait anymore! I need you right here, right now” Harry says before he tugs my dress up and over my head

My boobs pop out from my dress, leaving them against the cold wood and I’m left just in my panties

I feel Harry’s hands go to the waistband of my panties and push them down my legs to the floor

Harry wraps his arms around my body and pulls my body against his

His hand slides down to my pussy, before he takes hold of the cord that is connect to the toy and slowly pulls on it pulling it out

“Ahhh” I gasp as it slowly slips out of me

Once it is out, I hear it drop to the floor with a bang and then I hear the sound of a zip

It isn’t long before I feel Harry’s cock rubbing up against my inner thigh

“I spent all day stretching you with that toy, I should be able to slip right in” Harry mumbles into my ear

He directs his cock to my opening, before sliding in

“Fuck!” I squeal

Harry doesn’t even wait to adjust, he just starts fucking me at a brutal place

“How are you still so tight? When I have been stretching your pussy all day” Harry says with a groan

He continues to fuck me harder than he has ever done before

Yes we are adventurous, but god this is mind blowing

One of Harry’s hands is wrapped around me holding me close and the other is reaching around and pinching my nipples

“Fuck, feels so good Daddy” I moan

“You’re such a good girl for me, so beautiful! You’re all mine!” Harry tells me

We continue for a while longer before I am literally about to explode

“Daddy, please let me cum! Please!” I moan

“You can cum whenever you like baby, cum for me” He tells me

I scream with pleasure as I reach my climax

As I clench around Harry, I feel him bust his nut inside me

He thrusts a few more times before he pulls out and cuddles me close

“I love you so much” He says to me, as he kisses my neck

“I love you too! Now let’s have a shower because we smell like sex” I say with a chuckle

Harry quickly grabs me and picks me up and carries me to the shower

And if we went for another round in the shower, no one has to know

A/N: PLEASE REQUEST SOME IMAGINES

Masterlist

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chowaya · 1 month

Text

pyro!john allerdyce x fem!reader

PIERCING EARS

" WILL THIS BE QUICK? "

" yup. "

" Are you sure you know how to do this? "

" yeah. "

" Have you done this to anyone else? "

At the question, your own face told on you— curling up in an expression enough to tell your boyfriend. Who then backs his head away from your hands, still holding the ice pack to his ear with a widened eyes.

" What? "

" Can you really pierce ears? " John Allerdyce asked with much concern as he sat on your closed toilet seat, with your shadow looking over him as you stood.

The general reason why you're both in the toilet ready to pierce/get pierced was because of your boyfriend's sudden curiosity to your own piercings, all-lined up funky jewelry dangling across your ears.

The conversation of you two just chatting went from your taste in jewelry to how you got them done and stuff. Proudly, you announced earlier how you did them yourself. So here you are.

" I pierced myself. What lessons or mistakes you think I'm supposed to learn have been done and learnt. " You tried to reassure him of your specialities, you then pointed to your own ears. " I didn't achieve all of this in a night, okay? I did them one by one. Got some infections on the earlier ones but then I did better- they turned out better. "

Letting his fingers, reach and swipe your hair behind them and he gently grazes his fingers across the shell of your ears. He had a habit of doing this, and you always felt squeamish from it.

Squirming from his touch, you set down your tools first somewhere that was already cleaned. Having already sanitized the counter before having done this. " Hey, you don't have to bend for this, alright? "

" You don't have to trust me enough to completely do it, that's totally fine. You don't have to play along or act bravely, these things are permanent- they might heal or they won't. We can go get it done by a professional if you want, tomorrow is alright." Your hands then went to cup his face, mirroring the same habits of grazing the shell of your ears.

John could look at you with such endearment, you knew he loved it when you held him like this. He knows you do it because you want him to feel safe— " It's your choice. "

" I'm so inlove with you, woman. " You couldn't help but chuckle at his sudden comment, even he laughed along as well. His warm hands touching yours, you smugly smiled. " Oh, I know. "

" Yeah, but I want to get them done today. So you do it. " You nodded, trailing away your hands to reach for the needle and his Zippo lighter. " Alright. Are your ears numb enough? "

" Hm-mph, " He hummed, holding up an ice pack to his ear before pulling it back to his lap. " Okay, put the dapple behind your ear and you'll then feel a light pinch. "

As he did what's he was told, you lit up the sharp needle with the small trickling flame of his lighter then shutting it close with a click before inching closer to him. Whispering, " If something's wrong, tell me. "

" Yeah, yeah, i hear you. "

" Good. " As the sharp end punctured his flesh, you saw his expression curled on its own. And voila! A black stud had accessories one of his ears, you then moved to the next one. And you were done.

" You have to leave it one for at least. . a week, even then I don't recommend sleeping on your sides. " You commented as he got up to check them in the mirror, tilting his head side to side as the ends of his mouth curled slightly. " And wash it a few times with salt water so it doesn't get affected, I'll help you with that. "

He turned to you with a content look. And you smiled back, leaning across the wall behind you with arms crossed. " You goin' to show off my work to Drake? "

" Totally. " He inched closer with a step closer, " But before that. . . " He trailed off, as warm familiar lips went to meet yours in a long lasting peck, " Thank you. " He whispered.

You warmly smiled, " You're welcome. "

#john allerdyce #pyro #xmen #x2 #john allerdyce x reader #lol when i suddenly transfrom from reader to writer when there's a lack of fanfiction or specifics that i want

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risingscorchingsuns · 1 month

Text

hey guys! my posting/writing/general activity is probably going to get a little slower for a bit. i’ll still be here, but im going through a tough time right now. its been a frankly pretty awful week and im getting the feeling its gonna be rough for at least a solid minute. longer explanation below if you’d like it, but tw for mentions of trauma and abuse.

So ive mentioned it before, but i have complex PTSD. my parents split when i was very young, and my stepmom moved in with my dad almost immediately afterwards. when i try and remember it too much my brain gets foggy, but to put it simply, she was horrifically abusive to me and my younger siblings. she resented us for being born, as living reminders that my mother got to my father first. for over a decade she was the sole adult influence in my life, and from the age of eleven she manipulated me to believe she was the only person in the world i could trust. she bullied me for my neurodivergence, my appearance, my interests, anything she could get to lord over me. i had no escape for most of my formative years, because she cut me off and isolated me from any form of support I could possibly have, from trying to force me to change schools to convincing me my own father gave up on me. I only cut her off permanently last year.

Summers are really, really hard for me. When she and my dad moved across the country, I had to spend summers in Texas with her, and her alone. I had nobody. In a state far away from everyone who loved me, where she had full control and access to any form of communication. She’d regularly go through my messages I sent to friends, partners, even my mother to make sure I wasn’t “making up lies about her”. I was trapped, and completely, utterly isolated. Every day was about survival, and every day was about just making it to that night, through that hour, through that minute. Every single minute I lived in anticipation of the next, walking on eggshells to appease her impossible standards. When the weather starts to get warmer, my brain starts to anticipate going back there. I shut down, and go into survival mode. I have a tendency to isolate, though it’s something I’m working on.

The weather is starting to warm up where I live. I’m starting to get nightmares again, and I wake up feeling heavy. I’m stressed out all the time, and I constantly feel either hypervigilant to the point of paralysis, or completely dissociated. I know I’m in for a rough patch until my brain realizes I dont have to go back, and settles down my trauma responses. But it may be a while before that happens. I only ask to please be patient with me for a little while. I’m really sorry.

It’s hard for me to admit I’m not doing well. I might take this down if I find myself overthinking it. I will have good days, I always do. But for now, I’m in a bit of a dark place, and I deeply apologize for the resulting change in my interactions. I love you all deeply, and I want you to know I’m safe- I have a support system, and I dont ever have to see her again. I’m in a better place than I used to be, and I’m stronger every year. But the weather is starting to warm up, and I’m starting to shut down.

Please be well. I’ll respond to things as best I can, and I’ll still be around when I’m able.

Leon 🪲

#not kny #serious post #long post #tw abuse #tw trauma

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deltapng · 3 months

Text

this was meant to be angst but then it just turned into Lukas' POV of the scene where they get the last people back to their homes in S1 EP8

so yeah have this silly ramble

There is redstone in his eyes and it burns.

Lukas cringed at the burning sting. Ever since their adventure in Crown Mesa where he got chipped and subsequently freed, his eyes have been aching. Not in a ‘I need to cry’ way, but in a ‘there is something physically wrong’ way.

He wouldn’t be surprised if something was wrong. He barely had time to recover from the whole PAMA ordeal, immediately going along with Harper and entering The Games to find a way home. And even then, it became another thrilling adventure where they almost died (well, he and Ivor did actually die but it wasn’t permanent and, therefore, irrelevant), Jesse once again somehow pulled through, and kicked some butt. Now, they were in the portal network getting the people who were trapped in The Games home.

“--and that's when I yanked PAMA's redstone heart right out, hragh! And the whole thing shut down!"

He winced and glanced at Jesse up ahead. His hands were waving about as he told Axel and Olivia about all the adventures they missed while they were at home. As much as he’d like to chime in, he didn’t really want to talk about or be reminded of PAMA right now. Especially considering he was, well, still in pain from it.

“Man, you guys have had some crazy adventures.” Axel sounded envious. “So many people trying to kill you.”

Understatement of the century, Lukas thought. It was nearly unbelievable, the amount of trouble they always got into. It was almost like they were drawn to it. Or the other way around. Danger was attracted to them. It wasn’t a very comforting thought. Honestly, Lukas would like to settle down and lay low for a while. It’s been at least a few weeks (maybe even a few months; it’s hard to keep track of time in the portal hallway when every different world had its own flow of time) since he’d been home.

“Goodbye, Jesse! Goodbye! Thank you!”

“That all of them?”

Wait a minute. He’s not been home for a while. Which means no one’s been in his house since it’s not in Beacontown. It’s at the edge of the woods. Which means-

“Everyone that wants to go home, anyhow. Except you folks, that is. Can’t believe how many competitors actually want to stay and keep playing the games.”

Dewey, his mind hissed. How could he forget? The poor ocelot must have been lonely. He wasn’t too worried about Dewey starving, however, as the ocelot has proven time and time again that it was very much capable of hunting its own food. But then again, Dewey might have torn the place apart looking for him.

“Thanks to you my intrepid new friend, I can actually work on making them FUN again. Very exciting. It’ll be more challenging just by myself… But a good challenge.”

“It’s what I do - exploring new worlds, helping people wherever I go… I was happy to help.”

A wince. He brought his hand up to rub at his eyes. They come back with traces of redstone dust.

“And I’m gonna help too. You taught me a lot about fairness, Jesse, and I’d like to use that new knowlegde for something good. And speaking of fairness… I think this is yours.”

Lukas blinked up at Slab before he looked at what was being offered to him. His eyes widened; it was his journal, “Oh, man!”

“There was some good stuff in there. I was really moved,” He was barely listening as he flipped through the familiar pages.

“Awesome,” he smiled up at the giant man before he pocketed the book, waving when Slab started making his way elsewhere.

“Huh. Guess he wasn’t so ‘immovable’ after all.”

He couldn’t wait to get home.

#mcsm #mcsm lukas #and yes i do hc that as a side effect of getting chipped #lukas and petra have redstone in their eyes #but the main focus here is lukas sooooo #>:)

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astaraelthesnek · 3 months

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Kabaneri theories by two biology nerds

Ok, I am rewatching Koutetsujou no Kabaneri and my friend is watching it for the first time with me, and we are both biology nerds, so we are trying to work out how exactly the kabane, and therefor kabaneri, work. I will be posting our thoughts and theories one episode at a time, so please keep reading these. And if you haven't watched this anime, it's great, so watch it as the fandom is too small.

Right, so in episode one we basically were just trying to work out if it is a virus/bacteria, or a parasite. We don't think it would be a virus or bacteria, as those tend to kill the hosts pretty quickly, and some of the kabane have been alive for decades. They also often make the host physically weaker, and that is clearly not the case.

So we are onto parasites. Firstly, we needed to determine if it was a parasite or parasitoid (parasitoids kill the host and parasites don't). Despite what you may think, we actually think that it would be some type of parasite, as although kabane are basically zombies, parasitoids don't stay in their hosts, and don't control them. As far as parasites go, there are many instances of parasites, animal and fungal, latching onto the hosts brain and controlling them, like the cordyceps fungus, or the tarantula hawk wasp.

So, we've determined that it's a parasite, now what? Well, how is it transmitted. Obviously, through bites, but how does it do that. We decided that depending on if it is animal or fungus based, it probably lays eggs/spores in the saliva glands in the hosts mouth, which then get into the victims bloodstream when bitten. This also means that the parasite is unlikely to be in the kabane's blood, which makes sense, as steamsmiths don't seem too worried about cleaning blood off the trains.

When a victim is bitten, the eggs/spores are released into the bloodstream, causing the infection. This then explains the slow infections, as the smaller the wound, the fewer eggs and the slower the infection. The parasite then targets the brain in order to control the new host, as well as protecting the heart. This makes sense, as the parasite would more than likely be secreting chemicals into the hosts bloodstream in order to keep it running, and give it the superhuman strength, and in order to do that, it needs the heat to work.

This also explains why they are so hard to kill (we haven't tried to work out the heart cage yet). If the parasite keeps the body running off of its own chemicals, the host doesn't need to eat, so its organs can shut down, meaning that shouting it anywhere other that the head or heart will have no effect, as the kabane doesn't need anything else to function.

The parasite theory also helps explain why Ikoma succeed in turning himself into a kabaneri. If it was a virus, as soon as he stopped cutting off the blood supply to his head, it would have continued to infect him. But with a parasite travelling through his blood, if it can't find his brain, then it might assume that it is in the wrong place, and either shut down and hibernate, or die.

Ikoma still would have gone through some physical changes, as the parasite likely releases chemicals as soon as it hatches in the bloodstream, which would permanently alter his body, sending him through the initial changes that a kabane goes through. But without the right place to live, the parasite shuts down and stops releasing chemicals, meaning that not only does he keep his mind, changes such as skin colour would likely be reversed, as he no longer has the foreign chemicals in him.

That's all we have for now, but I will keep posting our theories as we watch it, so keep an eye out if you're interested.

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malk1ns · 1 year

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for your pleasure: it’s culturally said that Russian men never show up when meeting a women (whether business or pleasure) without a bouquet. Food for thought around your 1950s Geno fic lol

👀👀👀

Sid expects the flowers to stop after a while.

Geno brings a bouquet to every date, to the point where Sid runs out of vases and has to ask some of the WAGs where he can gets more that fit with his house's decor scheme. He buys flower food and a watering can and does his best to keep them alive for as long as possible, and then Geno starts bringing over live plants in pots and Sid falls headfirst into online research on how to care for all these living things suddenly in his home.

He maybe goes a little crazy on Amazon getting supplies. It's worth it when Geno sees how carefully arranged all his gifts are, how well-tended the blooms and leaves look.

That's normal early-relationship stuff, though, so Sid figures after a while it'll die down, and he'll maybe get a new plant for his birthday or something, to supplement the collection in the west-facing room he hadn't found a use for yet that's rapidly becoming a greenhouse.

It's when individual stems start appearing in his locker before every practice that Sid begins to suspect this might be more of a permanent thing.

The guys razz him, of course they do, but Geno just looks smug whenever Sid comes in and smiles over the new flower. Sid's not sure how much money he's spending on them, or where they're coming from, but he carefully gathers them and brings them home, and the biggest vase he owns, the one that sits on his kitchen island where he can see it as often as possible, becomes dedicated to the workplace gifts Geno seems determined to leave him every day.

"It's a Russian thing," Tanger says one day, examining the orchid bloom Sidney found before practice. "The men, they bring flowers for women when they meet them, even if they're just friends, even if it's work. I think it's safe to say you're getting what you wanted?"

Sid flushes hot. "How do you even know that?" he asks instead of acknowledging Tanger's question.

Kris smiles at him, all teeth and knowing eyes. "I called Sarge and asked what it might mean, if our little Geno was giving someone flowers every single day."

"Fuck, the whole goddamn league is gonna have a field day with this, you're such an asshole," Sid groans, kicking Kris in the shin hard enough to make him yelp and hop away. "And give me that, you're going to crush the stem."

Geno's waiting for him outside the locker room, slouched against the opposite wall and playing on his phone, chewing on his lower lip as he rapidly scrolls through whatever he's looking at. When he sees it's Sid coming through the door, orchid safely in hand, he straightens and slips his phone into his pocket.

"I think maybe you're lost," he says, smiling down at Sid and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Ready for go home?"

Sid settles into the warmth of Geno's touch, letting him steer them through the halls and out to the parking lot. Geno opens the passenger door to the car and waits until Sid's buckled safely in before shutting it and circling around to the driver's side.

"Do you think you'll keep getting me flowers forever?" Sid asks abruptly when they're halfway home.

Geno lowers the volume on the music and glances quickly at him, brow furrowed. "You're not like?"

Sid looks down at the orchid in his lap, touching the plastic water pick at the base of its stem. "No, I love it," he says, shifting in his seat. "It's just. I guess Tanger talked to Gonch."

"Ah," Geno says, fingers tightening a little on the wheel as he changes lanes to get off the highway. "It's okay?"

Sid knows what he's asking, knows what they're dancing around. It's something neither of them have been willing to actually put into words yet, even though Geno's behavior makes it crystal clear to anyone who's paying attention.

"It's more than okay," he finally answers, rolling his neck to try and ease a tight spot he hadn't been able to get fully massaged out at the trainers' after practice. "It's...you know. You know I like it."

Geno's shoulders come down from where they'd been climbing up to his ears. "Good," he says firmly. "Then we keep do. You like flower, you should get flower every day. I'm do this for you, I like it too."

"Good," Sid echoes. "What do you want for dinner? I think we have some of that chicken parm left, or I can make us pasta."

Geno looks over at him again, but this time his eyes are hot, and Sid squirms. "Think about dinner later," he says, hand landing high on Sid's thigh. "Have other thing to do when we get home."

#sidgeno #hockey rpf #my fic #my writing #talkin' bout

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late-to-the-party-81 · 2 years

Text

The awfully good, terribly bad day Part 1

AN: Day 12 is here. Why I decided to put Orgy after Triple Penetration I will never know, but here, have some Sex Pollen enabled shenanigans....

I’m using dialogue prompts from this post by @nightprompts and they can be found emboldened in the text.

Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Beta’d by @maladaptivexxdaydreaming

Dividers by @firefly-graphics, banners and covers by me.

Grouping: Steve x Bucky x Thor x Agent Reader

CW: Sex Pollen, Orgy, Dub-con (cos sex pollen), explicit sexual content, Unprotected P in V sex, Oral sex (M and F receiving), lots of limbs

Word Count: 1.4k

You stood inside the room, straining to hear what was going on outside the solid bulkhead door. Your skin itched, and your core was on fire. Your hand was down the front of your tac pants, slipping over your pulsing clit, two fingers deep inside your pussy, desperately trying to get some relief.

This mission had gone wrong from the word go.

Originally it was supposed to just be you and Steve, but then further intel had come in suggesting that the abandoned Hydra bunker might not be as abandoned as originally thought, so Bucky had insisted on coming along.

You had nothing against the former Winter Soldier, but he was just so… grumpy, a constant pessimist, and permanently attached to Steve’s side. At least he was cute looking.

Then, just when you’d got your head around that, Thor had appeared in a flash of lightning, one of his random visits, and just invited himself along. You’d only met him once before, and to be honest you’d been intimidated by how utterly gorgeous and magnetic he was. He almost made you forget the crush you had on your mentor, Steve. But he was loud, boisterous and always made himself the centre of attention; not what was needed on a potential covert operation.

After all that, though, not only was the bunker empty - except for the spiders, yuck - but there didn’t appear to be anything useful left behind. It was obvious any computers had been removed when the Hydra agents had left. All any of you had found were the odd papers, which you’d packed up, just in case some of the brains back at SHIELD could make any sense of them.

And then there were the vials. Three. Sitting right there in a wooden holder. You’d been packing those too, Bucky brooding by the door, just in case some of the spiders attacked, and Steve and Thor had been chatting near you about Asgardians latest space shenanigans.

You’re not sure what exactly had happened, but Thor, in the middle of his story, had stumbled into you, and one of the vials had tumbled to the ground, as if in slow-mo, smashing and sending a fine powder flying up into all your faces, like a mist.

Almost immediately Thor had started to panic, propelling you backwards towards the door to another room, a door that had locks on the inside and only a smooth surface on the outside.

Through the commotion and confusion he explained. He could smell it, feel its effects. A super-aphrodisiac. As the god of fertility he was immediately aware of what it was.

“We are all going to be hyper… well, aroused. Until it leaves our systems we will only be satisfied by being satisfied. And you, tiny one, are a mere mortal, whereas I and my super-soldier brothers are not. The three of us could hurt you.”

You looked at Steve, feeling the blood draining from your face. The Captain, on the other hand, was flushed pink, a fine sprinkling of sweat on his top lip and…oh god, an impressive bulge in his pants. Turning to look at Bucky, he was already leaning against a wall, groaning, eyes closed and cupping himself over his tac outfit.

“Go in. Shut it behind you. Don’t come out until this is over.”

Steve looked at you, trying to be stern, but all his usual ‘Captain’s voice’ did to you was make you whimper. But you did what he said, turning the lock behind you and wondering how the three men would fair.

That had been half an hour ago. You’d thought that you’d be alright, that you’d be able to ride it out easily. How wrong you were. When you’d heard a strange noise it took you a moment to realise it was you, moaning. You hadn’t even noticed your hand snaking down your pants at first either.

But you couldn’t take it any longer. You needed something more. Surely it would be okay if you left this room for a moment, maybe see if you could persuade Steve to help you. He’d be a gentleman and not bring it up again if you asked him not to, surely?

However, whatever you were expecting to see when you opened the door, the hinges creaking loudly, it wasn’t the sight that greeted you.

They were naked.

100% butt naked.

And not dealing with it solo either, like you had.

Steve was on his back, his face buried between Bucky’s ass cheeks, one hand on Bucky’s cock. Bucky was leant forward, one hand on the floor for support, the other stroking Steve’s cock, and his pouty lips wrapped around Thor’s apparently massive member. Thor had his head tipped back, fingers of one hand buried in Bucky’s hair.

“Fuck!”

The three of them froze and looked towards you.

“You shouldn’t have come out, little one. It’s…we’re not safe for you.”

Thor tried to chastise you, but given the effect of the powder, and the fact he was encouraging Bucky‘s attention back to the huge dick in his mouth while talking to you, you barely listened.

Instead you walked towards the erotic tableaux, shedding your clothes and running your hands over your body, all thoughts of just retrieving Steve and retreating to your designated safe room disappearing alongside.

“It hurts! I need… I need you. Oh god, I need all of you.”

You dropped to your knees next to Bucky, joining him in worshipping Thor’s cock. You let out a moan as Thor reached down his free hand and started to caress one of your breasts. Your own hand was between your legs, but still you were finding no relief, and let out a muffled whine.

There was a bit of shuffling and you found yourself pushed towards Steve, Bucky having given up his position. The blonde super soldier looked at you intently as he grabbed your hand and pulled you down to sit astride him. His usual controlled demeanour was gone, and he cupped your face and dragged your lips towards his, groaning into your mouth. You ground your sopping pussy over his rock hard cock, catching your clit against his tip and, given how wound up you’d been, you toppled over the edge, writhing on top of him as you came and soaking him with your arousal.

He rolled you both then, and thrust into you. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined that sex with Steve would be like this, but then again these weren’t normal circumstances. The feeling of him inside you was indescribable and you were dizzy with desire. Your eyes fluttered closed as his hips snapped at a frenetic pace, and he growled in your ear.

“Never imagined it would be like this. Wanted you for so long. I swear, we get home, imma treat you right, sweetheart. I…I just need you right now. Say you want me and I’m yours.”

It was your turn to cup his face and kiss him ferociously, your legs locked around his slim waist as you felt your second orgasm approaching.

A loud cry from beside you, had you both turning your heads and you saw Thor in the throws of ecstasy as he came down Bucky’s throat. Bucky was stroking himself, firmly with his left hand, the metal plates shifting, servo’s whirring. They looked so good together, and you and Steve came together as you both watched.

But Steve was still hard and your itch still burned and you motioned Bucky towards you, just as Thor also approached. The Asgardian god pulled Steve to his feet, before dropping to his knees, and taking Steve into his mouth in one go. The thought that Thor would be able to taste you, as well as Steve, made further heat flare inside you, but the two blondes were driven from your mind as Bucky’s mouth connected with your dripping pussy.

“Oh, fuck! Bucky! Shit!”

The brunet assassin certainly had a talented tongue, and it was filthy and lewd as he licked Steve’s cum out of you. You came, screaming, on his tongue, and desperate for him to fuck you.

With the HYDRA chemical coursing through all your veins, you wondered what would happen next…

Tag list: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @ohsymphony @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @marvelstarker-mha98 @poppunksnowwhite

#kinktober 2022 #kinktober22 #late writes #steve rogers x reader #bucky x reader #thor x reader #steve x bucky #steve x thor #thor x bucky #steve x bucky x thor x reader

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ellorypurebloodculture · 10 months

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Just realized that had Voldy won, Magical Britain would have likely suffered an economic collapse. Muggleborn and Halfblood families literally pour money into the magical community, but there are really no known instances of magical wealth being used in the muggle world. Because most if not all use of miggle goods is through imitation via transfiguration or the like.

And I doubt the people who curse muggle objects (like what Arthur Weasley works with) care to purchase them first.

Magical families who have books and cauldrons, witches gardens and potions, brooms and wands of their own passed through the family don't necessarily need to go out and buy extras, though at least for a some things they do. A family library only needs one copy of a book and everyone in the family can use it, but Muggleborns would each need their own copy as there don't seem to be public libraries in the magical world. A few semesters without Muggleborn students and some of the businesses in Diagon and Hogsmeade would have to shut down. I'd give it Three years max before the country starts to grind to a halt as the lower classes lose access to basic goods because of inflation and product scarcity.

In canon? 🤔

I mean, Voldemort's pure-blood supremacy agenda would have mainly left the pure-bloods and notable half-bloods, many of whom are canonically exceptionally wealthy.

There aren't many known Muggle-borns compared to half-bloods and pure-bloods in canon. The Wikia has a list of, if I counted correctly, twenty-three canon Muggle-borns across all the eras.

And we do have several instances of wizards and witches shopping in the Muggle World, I believe. Harry having seen several people (not just Order Members) at shops and such in the Muggle World. Am I remembering that rightly?

And I think the department was Misuse of Muggle Artefacts? Which would imply they're acceptable imports if not bespelled and misused?

But even the Weasleys buy things secondhand (like Ron's dress robes). And I do believe they had to buy each child (Percy, George, Fred, and Ginny) the complete set of Lockhart's books in CoS. 🤔

If I'm remembering correctly, Transfiguration is canonically the most difficult magical subject and many people struggle with it. If a mistake is made, things can get permanently stuck partially Transfigured and can't be undone or changed even by spells. So, Transfiguring things they need wouldn't be viable for many.

I also remember certain potions requiring specific cauldrons, and if one's melted, a new one being required, which implies they aren't magically repairable, perhaps due to the inherent magic in the potion? And something about cauldron bottom thickness being necessary for some potions, which might require a potioneer to own a great many cauldrons for brewing.

Plus, broom charms break down, rendering them unsafe for use, I think? I'm fairly sure it was canon that the school brooms were rubbish and needed to be replaced. Or, old models might not meet updated safety regulations and thereby become illegal to use.

And we know it's canon that wands only work well for those they choose/who won them, so hand-me-down wands wouldn't be the norm, I don't think. Charlie's didn't work well for Ron and Frank's was an awful match for Neville.

I absolutely believe there's a public library. Especially since canon makes such a big to-do about the size of the Hogwarts' library and personal family libraries. It definitely implies a library system, to me. It not having been relevant to Harry's adventures or interests, though, would excuse its absence from the novels.

Some jobs requiring specific O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s implies, to me, there are many opportunities of employment for those with a less advanced education. I sort of equate O.W.L.s to a certificate/degree/diploma of adequate education as Ron canonically said:

O.W.L.s are really important, affect the jobs you can apply for and everything.

And Newt Scamander was allowed to keep his wand even after being expelled because he'd passed his O.W.L.s, while Hagrid, who hadn't taken or passed his, had his wand snapped upon expulsion.

And then I equate N.E.W.T.s as something like a bachelor's degree.

Because, let's be real here, Percy went straight from school, having gotten every possible O.W.L.--all 12; Hermione got 10--and a N.E.W.T. in every exam he took, and he went right to work for a Department Head in the government. The Department of International Magical Co-operation. So, he's basically the P.A. to a magical ambassador. At eighteen.

And the fact that "Charms Master" and "Potions Master" and such are canonical titles, implies to me a Mastery was obtained through even more advanced study, one which would qualify said person to teach the subject.

And I'm rambling now. 😅

But, I swear I have a point!

I think the economy would have survived, they'd have enough workers, especially with the low number of canonical Muggle-borns, (and I think only the Muggle-borns had to register and were sent to Azkaban, not the half-bloods, in Deathly Hallows), but the massive change in government policies would have been utterly stunning and harsh to many.

(This was a very interesting thought exercise! Thank you, blooms! I had fun. 💛)

#ellory answers

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