#lmao i have been cursed by depravity | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-cult-of-russo · 1 year

Text

Head Like A Hole (part 2)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Warnings: cursing, fluff I guess lmao, unhinged Billy-boo, mention of attempted sexual assault and murder.

A/N: I’m just out here writing part twos to these things that no one’s asking for looooool I was working on part 2 for Sorry but this came to me and I have to get this shit out of me or I’d never write it. Sorry if there’s any typos. I use two spell checkers but I swear, whenever I reread my shit after it’s posted, I always find them lmaooo

-----

You put the cap back on the concealer before staring blankly at your reflection. It wasn't great. It wasn't concealing as much as you’d hoped. The mark was still showing, although it looked a hell of a lot better than the bright purple black eye that it was without it. As your eyes trailed down the floor-length mirror, you grimaced. The bruise on your right side where your ribs were looked awful, and you didn't have enough concealer or time to try to cover that one up. You put your silk robe on, tying it carefully with a wince. Jerry had told you to take some time off to heal, but you didn't want to miss out on the money. It wasn't like you needed it. You had so much stashed away so you could have a lavish retirement when you grew bored of this. Some might say you loved money a little too much. That wasn't the only reason though. Today was one of Billy’s days, not that you’d be doing your normal stuff with him. It had been two months since that night he’d blown your mind and it became routine. He came in on the three days he usually did, but then he’d be with you afterwards, always showing you a good time. Work felt lonely and boring on the days he wasn't here and you always looked forward to seeing him. It was still brutal, kinky and animalistic sex with him, the only change being that he’d stay a little longer afterwards now as you both just lay with each other calmly. He was still paying you $5000 a night, and you felt like $15000 a week was a little much considering you felt like he was servicing you and not the other way around. You’d mentioned it once, that he didn't need to pay so much, but he’d completely ignored your comment so you left it. You didn't know how to feel about Billy coming in today though. Didn't know how he’d react when he saw the state of you. You glared at your split lip, it had scabbed over but was still very fucking noticeable and no amount of lipstick could cover it. You’d be working as a server until you felt better, Jerry’s orders since you refused to stay off work. It wasn't even so much that it would be off-putting to the customers, most of the girls had a mark of some description on them and after Billy was done with you, you’d be covered in them. But Jerry really cared about his girls and he didn't want you to injure your messed up ribs any further by dancing or using the pole. You didn't really mind. You didn't feel 100% and you were in pain, so taking it a little easy would be good for you. The servers usually wore underwear but Jerry suggested wearing your silk robe to cover up the most of your marks, the worst being your ribs. It was thigh high and you’d tied it to leave some nice cleavage. It would have to do. Lucky for you, your regulars would still tip nicely even if you weren't working the pole.

The idea of Billy made you wonder if he’d react at all. You’d bonded in a way. Connected through your deep sexual needs and slightly depraved kinks that you explored together, pushing each other's boundaries to the max. But other than that, you didn't know each other. You’d never asked each other personal questions, you both just didn't cross that line. You wanted to sometimes, of course. There was a lot you wanted to know about the man, he intrigued you. But you didn't ask and neither did he. He was a customer after all and that's all he was and you both knew it. You connected on a sexual level and that's where it ended. But since he wouldnt be watching you dance and there was no way you could fuck him in your current state, you weren't sure how he’d take it. He always turned up acting like if he didn't have you, he’d die. And that pure desperation for you made your blood sing. You had a lot of admirers here but no one had ever made you feel as wanted or needed like Billy had. You heaved a sigh before leaving your back room and making your way out from the back. The club was busy as it always was and you hummed along to the music as you made your way over to the bar. You got some looks but no one mentioned your mildly covered black eye or split lip. Why would they? None of them really cared and anyone curious enough would just chalk it up to someone smacking you about a bit as an extra with sex and move on. They’d think it was consensual since nothing non-consensual happened here. Yet what happened to you was definitely not something you agreed with.

You served drinks with a pretty smile and flirted with the men and as you knew you would, you were making good tips. Your guys were of course disappointed to turn up and realize you weren't dancing for them but they’d been fine with your answer of wanting a rest. It wasn't unheard of for some of the dancers to serve sometimes to get some respite. Dancing was a tiring job and a burnt-out dancer wasn't a good one. But you made sure to recommend girls you knew they'd like to them and to keep their drinks flowing with a smile. You were just returning back to the bar with your empty tray when a hand seized your wrist. You gasped, being spun around and coming face to face with Billy. His dark eyes were wide and burning with intensity as he looked you over. They darted from your eye like he could see right under the make-up at how bad it really was and to your split lip before back to your eyes again.

“Hey! No touching, pal!” the security guy yelled, storming right over to the pair of you. The servers weren’t to be touched. The man was built like a tank, a wall of pure muscle that made him look like a beast next to Billy’s more slender frame. Yet the look Billy shot him was far more menacing than anything the other man could muster.

“It’s okay, Phil. I know him,” you murmured with a smile. Phil squinted a little, looking distrustfully at Billy who still had your wrist in a death grip and who was glaring daggers at him before he looked back at you.

“You sure?” he asked carefully, very vividly remembering what happened to you the night before.

“I’m sure,” you smiled with a nod. Seemingly satisfied, Phil walked back to near the entrance. Billy looked to you then, working his jaw and scrunching his face up a little. He opened and closed his mouth a few times like he wanted to say something but nothing came out. He had that slightly unhinged look in his eyes. The one that when he wore it in the bedroom, you knew you were in for a good time. But these were different circumstances and you weren't quite sure what was going through his head. Before you could say anything, he was tugging you into the back and to your room. He let go of your wrist to open the door as he walked inside and you shut the door, leaning against it much like you had the first time you’d been in here with him. He stood a little away from you, his jaw tight as his bright eyes burned into you.

“Did a customer do that?” he bit out, eyes glittering with rage. You weren't sure if he was upset at the idea of someone else marking you up. No one else really bothered but you were always delighted when Billy would cover you in marks. He seemed to love it, especially when he came back and they were still there but fading. He always went back over them to keep them fresh and bright and you loved the possessiveness of it. He’d even growled at you that you were his a few times and it always made your insides ache. You felt small under his gaze, no lust to bring you together this time. It felt strange and you felt vulnerable. Subconsciously you tugged your robe tighter around yourself as you shook your head.

“No,” you murmured quietly as you took a few tentative steps towards him. You hoped it would make him feel better. To know he was the only one to mark you up like that. But it only seemed to make him worse as his eyes seemed to burn brighter like an inferno and he rolled his shoulder. He was quiet for a long moment, looking like he was ready to snap as he clenched and unclenched his fists by his slides. You weren't quite sure what was going on with him as you watched him warily. He’d never hurt you. Well, not in a bad way anyway. And you knew he wouldn't. But you were well aware there was a darkness in Billy. It's what attracted you to him in the first place.

“What happened?” he asked harshly.

“It doesn't matter,” you shrugged dismissively. You really thought it didn't. It wasn't a work thing, well mostly, it had been connected. But still, you and Billy had never been personal with each other so you didn't see the need to go over what happened.

He looked pissed by your answer. His eyes narrowed to slits as he stalked towards you and you instinctively stepped back until your back hit the door. You gasped with a wince as it hurt your ribs and then he was ripping your robe open, revealing your badly bruised ribs as well as a few other smaller bruises on your torso. His hand came up to your ribs, fingers ghosting over the bruise in a featherlight touch as he glared at it but it still made you hiss, your body instinctively moving away from his before he dropped his hand. His breathing was coming in sharp and you were starting to wonder if he was getting off on it or something. Lust and anger always seemed to blend together with him. But when his dark eyes met yours once more, he didn't just look angry, he looked upset.

“What happened?” he asked again in a growl, his tone telling you that you better tell him and there were no other options.

“Can we uh… can we sit down?” you asked carefully. You'd been on your feet all night and your body was starting to scream at you for putting it through the wringer in your condition. He blinked at you for a moment, eyes seeming to glance at every mark on your body before he nodded jerkily and moved away. You kicked off your heels, feeling the relief instantly before you made your way over to your bed. You sat against the headboard slowly, holding your ribs with a grimace as you did. He came over and perched himself on the side of the bed, far away from you. He wasn't facing you but facing the wall to your left, his arms resting on his legs with his hands clasped together. But then he turned his head to look at you, quirking a brow as if telling you that you better start talking. You hadn't expected him to act like this. You hadn't expected him to act like anything if you were honest.

“I was attacked last night outside the club,” you murmured. Billy took a deep inhale, eyes flaring as his jaw ticked, but his swirling eyes didn't leave you.

“It was some new guy, he’d been by here a few days. He’d watched me dance all night but something felt… off about him. So when he requested me after, I turned him down. Something didn't feel right with him and I always trust my gut. He got kicked out later for touching a server and Jerry told him he wasn't allowed back. When I finished, I was walking to my car and he was waiting for me. It was so dark… I didn't even see him. But he tackled me… Beat me to shit, obviously. He planned to do more than that but he barely got any clothes off me before Phil and the guys heard me screaming. They came out and the coward ran off. But they saved me from some bad shit,” you said shakily. You’d felt off-kilter ever since. You'd always associated sex with pleasure and pain of the good kind but this was something else. You weren’t stupid, you knew rape and sexual assault happened, but you just hadn't expected it to almost happen to you. Jerry worked hard to create a safe space here for you and the girls. Shit like that didn't happen here.

Billy looked back at the wall, cracking his neck a little. You were waiting for him to say something with how hard he pressed you to tell him, but instead, he stood up.

"You should probably get back out there," he muttered. It confused you but it wasn't like you'd expected anything from him anyway. So you nodded, standing up slowly to try and ease the pain in your ribs. He watched you with rapt attention but made no move to help you. You stopped near him, wanting to make something clear to him so it didn't cause any confusion later in the night.

"I uh… we won't be able to… I'm too injured," you murmured, wanting to hit yourself for fumbling over your words. When did you ever have an issue talking about sex? Maybe it was the fact you didn't want to disappoint Billy. You wanted the opposite, you wanted to please him.

"I noticed," he replied, lips curling into a wry smirk, no trace of any of his weird intense anger from earlier. It made you feel a little better though that he wasn't upset about it. You'd hate it if he decided to see one of the other girls instead of you from now on. His visits were the highlight of your week. You knew he'd probably watch others dance until you were healed though. Or the alternative would be for him to not come at all. You weren't sure what was worse and you wondered just when you'd gotten so possessive over a customer. You and Billy walked out of your room and he fell into step beside you as you made your way out into the main area. You were expecting him to go and pick another girl, but instead, he followed you to the bar before sitting there. Something purred inside of you, pleased that he’d rather be here where you’d be passing by all night rather than with someone else. You set off working again and getting drinks from the bar before taking them to customers. You weren't as fast as the other servers in the state you were in and you were steadily getting slower as your ribs started to protest too much.

“Two whiskeys and a bourbon, Mike,” you smiled at the bartender as you stopped beside Billy, holding your ribs for a moment. He nodded, getting the drinks ready for you. Billy moved and you glanced at him as he pulled something out of his pocket. It was some pills and he got one out before handing it to you. You blinked at it for a moment before you looked at him and quirked your brow, making him roll his eyes and snort.

“It's a pain pill. Got it for the… you know,” he muttered as he vaguely gestured to his face, frowning a little as he looked away and refused to give you eye contact. You knew he was sensitive about his scars. Two weeks after he first started coming to you for more than dances, you’d been laying with him after some amazing sex. You’d leaned over and traced one of them and he’d recoiled away from you like you’d burnt him. He’d given you this shocked look, puzzled and bewildered. Untrusting. But you’d looked back at him patiently and when he eventually moved back, you’d done it again and he’d let you. Slowly he got more comfortable with it and now he enjoyed it when you did it after sex. He’d close his eyes with a rare soft smile as he soaked it in.

“Billy, I’m fine,” you shook your head, watching as Mike put the drinks on your tray for you. You gave him a smile in thanks.

Billy stood, all tall and imposing next to you and grabbed your wrist. You noticed Phil look over but since you’d told him you knew Billy and you were clearly unphased by his actions, he made no move to go over.

“Stop bein’ a martyr. Take the damn pill before I take you back to your room, beat to shit or not,” he warned lowly, his dark eyes glaring at you. It was strange the power he held over you with words alone. The way your body ached at them. You were in no condition to fuck him yet you started to wonder if there were any positions that wouldnt hurt too much. A dark smirk painted his lips as if he was reading your thoughts and his hand slid from your wrist to your hand, placing the pill there.

“You’re a tease,” you huffed, popping the pill in your mouth and grimacing as you dry-swallowed it.

“You love it though,” was his cheeky reply and you couldn't help but smile at it as he sat back down. You kept working for a while after that, trying to keep tabs on Billy at the bar. He’d shoot you glances, sometimes with a smirk, other times impassive. You swore he was like multiple people sometimes, you could never get a read on him. When your shift was over, you went into your room to get changed into the clothes you'd worn here. It wasn't anything special, just some leggings, converse, a dark gray t-shirt and a black zip-up hoodie. You were injured, you weren't about to turn up looking like a princess. Once you were ready, you went back out and you were disappointed when you couldn't see Billy anywhere. You’d hoped to at least say goodbye to him. You hated not being able to spend your usual time together, it was like your body craved it now. You sighed even harder when your eyes flit about and you couldn't see Phil either. He’d offered to walk you to your car when you got off after seeing how shaken up you’d been the night before. But you couldn't wait around forever. The pain pill eased some of your pain but not all of it and all you wanted to do was go home. You decided it was time you got on your big girl panties and decided to just head out yourself. You hardly expected Billy to be loitering in the entrance hallway.

“Oh, hey. I thought you’d left,” you said, feeling relieved that he hadn’t. His eyes trailed over your body, right to your toes before back up again.

“You look cute,” he murmured wryly. You glanced down at yourself before realizing he’d only ever seen you in skimpy underwear or nothing at all. You felt far too dressed down now with your normal clothes and you felt your cheeks burn.

“Gotta be comfy,” you shrugged sheepishly and made him chuckle. You weren't sure if you liked the way he made you feel like this. You were never shy or self-conscious.

“I’m gonna walk you to your car,” he stated simply and you shook your head.

“You don't need to do that,” you frowned. You didn't want to inconvenience him.

“I know I don't but I’m doin’ it anyway,” his face and tone were stern, telling you it was final. You couldn't help but smile, feeling a fluttering in your stomach. He was giving you whiplash. One minute he’s demanding to know what happened to you as if he cared, then he acts like he doesn't and now he was making sure you were safe to get home. You didn't know which way was up with him.

“So you’re bossy outside of the bedroom too, huh?” you quipped, eyes alight with mischief. He gave you an amused grin and a lazy shrug.

“Tellin’ me you don’t enjoy it?” he asked, raising a brow as you snorted. As you both made your way to the door, your eyes drifted to the large notice board on the wall. It was full of pictures of guys who weren't allowed in anymore. But you really hadn't thought the guy who attacked you would be on there already. Nor did you think that seeing his face would make your heart falter a little as you saw it.

“That him?” Billy asked lowly, ever perceptive as always. You nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself as you moved to the door. You didn't want to look at it anymore. You hovered uncertainly just at the door, flashes of the night before hitting you. You knew you were safe. You had Billy by your side, yet you couldn't seem to push the door open. Billy seemed to take pity on you as he left first, allowing you to follow beside him. You took an uneasy breath as you walked across the car park in silence to where your car was. But you stopped short, inhaling sharply as you glared at it. Your tires had been slashed and you could have chalked it up to any asshole, but the word whore was keyed into your car and you had a sinking feeling in your stomach.

You glanced over to Billy who was glaring at your car like he was willing it to set ablaze. He rolled his shoulder, tensing his jaw before looking at you with a blank look.

“I’ll take you home,” it wasn't an offer, he was telling you and he didn't wait for you to reply as he started walking off to what you presumed to be his car. You didn't bother telling him he didn't have to because you knew his response. But this was a big no-no. Letting a customer know where you lived was definitely not what any of the girls here should do. But this was Billy and you trusted him. So you obediently followed him, not wanting to get left behind in the dark. Your eyes widened as you saw him unlock his car, a grin spreading on your face at the Rolls Royce Wraith.

“Wow… she’s pretty,” you murmured, drinking her in with your eyes. Billy chuckled, causing you to look at him as he opened the passenger door for you.

“What can I say? I like pretty things,” he shrugged, giving you a pointed look that made your insides feel all hot. You slid inside the car, trying to be careful before Billy shut the door. Before long you were both on your way to your apartment after you’d told him where it was. Ironically, it wasn't far from where he lived apparently. The ride was silent and you felt uneasy. You had no idea what to say. You didn't do personal with each other, yet now there was no sex as a buffer to not make it weird. You felt out of your depth with him like this so you stayed silent.

When he pulled up, you were about to thank him but you never got the chance.

"I'll walk you up," he said as he undid his seat belt.

"Billy…" your protest died on your tongue at the look he shot you. He got out and you opened the door and followed suit. He trailed along with you as you entered the building and the elevator ride up felt tense and uncomfortable. Dealing with him in the bedroom was one thing but this was another entirely. When you got to your door, you pulled out your key and unlocked it, hovering uncertainly.

"Do you wanna come in… I don't mean like… you know, I just…" you felt your cheeks burn as you fumbled over your words. For someone that flirted with men for a living, you were sure as shit having a hard time just talking to him. He looked somewhat amused by your inability to speak like a human as he nodded. You walked inside, holding the door open for him as he came in. You watched as he glanced around curiously and you wondered what he thought of your home. You liked to keep it classy and also nice and clean. The decor was black and white, some touches of your favorite color sprinkled in.

"You want anything to drink?" You asked as you toed your shoes off. He looked at you then and shook his head.

"Nah, I'm good," he stated. Now you didn't know what to do. You weren't quite sure why you even invited him in and no idea why he agreed.

He stepped towards you then and got something out of his pocket before he handed it to you. It was an envelope and you peeped inside, you saw money and you frowned.

"Billy… I told you I can't have sex right now," you muttered, feeling a pang of disappointment as you realized he'd gone to all of this effort simply for that. He tilted his head, regarding you for a moment.

"The extras… they ain't always sexual, right? It's to pay for your time," He asked, raising a brow. You blinked at him slowly for a moment.

"Not all the time," you replied, clear confusion coating your tone. It wasn't often but you'd sometimes get guys paying for your time with no sex involved. It had only happened twice with you personally. One guy just wanted to be cuddled the entire time and the other used you like a therapist as he vented about his wife cheating on him with his brother. You had no idea where he was going with this.

"Right… so you're gonna take the money and let me take care of you," he said with a firm look, eyes burning into you. You didn't really know what to say to that, you were confused by his request. But he took your silence as acquiescence.

"Sit down," he ordered, gesturing to the sofa. You obeyed simply because you really had no idea what was going on.

He peeked into a room, your room, before closing the door and looking in the other one which was the bathroom. Then he disappeared inside. You sat there wondering if you were dreaming because your interactions with Billy had been weird since the moment he'd turned up to the club that night. Then you heard the bath running. He was paying you to look after you and the idea felt so absurd, your brain couldn't comprehend it. You'd gladly let him do it for free but part of you felt the payment made it easier for him. Some kind of transaction instead of him acting like he cared. You sat there patiently for a while before he came back out of the bathroom.

“Come on,” he gestured with his head to the bathroom and you did as you were told, standing carefully and following him inside. Your large bath was full and even had bubbles, you could smell the lavender in the air so you knew just which bubble bath he’d used. You were curious if he’d selected one randomly or if he’d smelt them all and had a preference. Since he’d paid you for this, you stood there, waiting for his next move as you had no idea what he wanted from you. He stood in front of you but wasn't looking in your eyes as he unzipped your hoodie and slid it off you. Then he took off your t-shirt, being careful as he maneuvered your arms out so your ribs didn't get jostled. Next up were your leggings and underwear. Soon enough you were naked but he didn't give you a lustful gaze like he normally did. It felt quite strange. He helped you slowly ease yourself into the bath and you felt relaxed almost immediately at the hot water.

“Thanks,” you murmured, watching him when he moved away and wondering what he was going to do next. He stripped down so you figured he’d be getting in with you. You looked, of course you did, you couldn't help it. The man was godlike to you. And he caught your gaze, giving you a smirk with an amused raised brow that had you snorting and looking away. Your bath was pretty big, you’d paid a shit tonne of money for it. So you knew he’d fit in with you before he even got in and you were right as he climbed inside and settled behind you, his legs either side of you.

There was so much silence between you and you weren't sure how to handle it. You weren't used to it and it made you slightly uncomfortable. Yet you had no idea how to make idle conversation with him. He wasn't like everyone else. You were lost in your thoughts, running through potential things to say to him that wasn't mundane small talk about the weather, when you heard him messing with something on the side of the bath. You turned to look curiously but hissed when your ribs screamed at you. You didn't have to wait too long though to find out what he was doing as he started washing you. It was your lavender body wash too so you were starting to wonder if he did have a preference. It was oddly intimate and such a sweet gesture that you were slightly stunned for a moment as he washed your back carefully. You hadn't known he was capable of sweet with all the darkness you saw in him but you found it endearing. You decided to relax and ease into it, letting him move your arms as he washed them tenderly. When he was done with your arms and back, he rinsed the suds off you before wrapping an arm around your uninjured side. He rested his chin on your shoulder as he reached around and started to wash the front of you too. You turned to glance at him, his face so close to yours. He noticed your movement and his head turned slightly. He was so beautiful. You gave him a soft smile and he gave you one in return, leaning closer to your face before nuzzling your cheek and you swear your heart almost stopped completely. He gave your front the same treatment as your back before he moved away from you and you suddenly felt cold at the loss.

“Head back,” he commanded, yet his tone wasn’t harsh. You did as he said and then he was pouring the nice hot water over your hair. It felt nice on your scalp. You heard the cap of your shampoo pop and then his fingers were massaging your head. It felt really fucking good and your eyes fluttered shut with a pleased hum. He chuckled at your reaction and you melted under his touch. He massaged your head for a while, running his hands through your hair before he sadly rinsed all the shampoo out. You felt him squeeze the excess water out of your hair before he moved your head back to its normal position.

He leaned back then to lay against the back of the bath and he brought you with him slowly. You were lying on him and you could feel his straining cock against your ass but he never mentioned it or acted like he cared. You weren't quite sure what to do now and your mind once more turned to try to figure out what to say. As if he could read your mind, he spoke.

“Just relax,” he said softly, his voice soothing. One of his hands was rubbing soothing circles on your stomach and you willed your body to do as he said. It didn't take much effort. Between all the lavender and your body being a mess, you were exhausted. And it felt nice to just be here like this with Billy taking care of you. So you shut your eyes and your body melted against his. You weren't sure how long you both lay like that, unspeaking but relaxed. The water had started to lose some of its heat and you were sure your fingers were starting to wrinkle. But as you started to drift off to sleep, he carefully eased you to sit up. You blinked tiredly, stifling a yawn as you tried to wake up more. He’d paid for your time and here you were, falling asleep. He moved from behind you and got out of the bath, grabbing a towel as he started to dry himself. You watched with sleepy eyes, admiring him while he wasn't looking as he only put his black boxers back on. He came back over to you then, helping you stand up slowly. He wrapped a big fluffy towel around your shoulders before he grabbed you, mindful of your ribs as he picked you up and plonked your feet on the bathroom floor. You smiled wryly at him and he gave you a smirk before he started drying you. He dried every inch of you and you didn't think it was possible to wish you were healed any more than you did in that moment. He was torturing you. Once he was done, he towel-dried your hair for you and you were grateful. You were far too tired to use a hairdryer. He helped you step into your panties and slipped your t-shirt back over your head, guiding your arms through the holes. Then, he took your hand and led you out of the bathroom and into your bedroom.

Your bed felt like it was screaming at you, calling out to you. But you tried to resist it. He’d paid you a lot of money for essentially doing nothing but sit there and get taken care of. You couldn't be a bitch and fall asleep on him. He led you right to the bed, which would only make not falling asleep harder, but when he moved away, you knew he was waiting for you to get in. You climbed into bed under the covers, laying on your back as your eyes followed him. He moved to the other side of the bed and got in next to you, moving to face you.

“Turn around,” he muttered expectantly. You rolled over slowly onto your unbruised side, wondering what he was going to do next. You felt so sleepy and it was hard to keep your eyes open. You were about to open your mouth to tell him this wasn't a good idea, that you were minutes away from sleep. But then he was pressed against you, his arm snaking under your pillow and neck, wrapping around you. His other arm came around you too, splaying on your stomach, and it wasn't lost on you that he’d strategically avoided the bruise. His body was warm against yours and it felt nice. You’d never cuddled with him before, not even in your post-sex haze after he’d fucked the brains right out of you. He placed a soft kiss to your shoulder before sweetly rubbing his nose against your neck. You smiled to yourself as your eyes drifted shut.

“Just rest, sweetheart,” he soothed, making you hum softly in reply. It didn't take long to fall asleep wrapped in his arms like that.

When you woke the next morning, the first thing you were aware of was how your body ached like a grade-A bitch. Every inch of you felt like it was on fire and you realized you had no choice but to take a couple of days off to recover. Your body just wasn't ready for work right now and the night before had been a bad idea. You’d go in on the day Billy would be coming in though. You didn't want to miss that. You wondered if he’d offer to take care of you again if you weren't in better shape. Part of you hoped he would. Thinking of Billy, you carefully rolled onto your back and glanced to the other side of the bed, sadly finding it empty. You winced as you forced yourself to sit up, eyes sweeping the room. There was no sign of him, not even a note. And from the silence in your apartment, you knew he wasn't here anymore. You felt disappointment settle in your stomach like a stone. You really hoped to at least thank him for how he took care of you and it wasn't like you had his number to text him. Maybe it was easier for him that way though. He didn't seem the type to do this kind of stuff normally. Maybe he felt uncomfortable and wanted to get the fuck out of dodge. You wouldn't hold it against him, not after how he’d cared for you. He had no need to do that and you still couldn't quite understand why he’d bothered. You sighed to yourself as you forced your body to get out of bed. You needed to call Jerry and let him know you needed a few days off. Your body really wasn't happy with you.

—--------

You leaned against the elevator wall as it went up to your apartment. It had been two weeks and your body had recovered nicely and things were back to normal. Well, mostly. Billy hadn't been by since that night he’d taken care of you. You wondered if things were ruined now. Wondered if maybe he’d been embarrassed or something. All you knew was that you missed him. On all the days he was supposed to come, you watched the door with bated breath, only to find he didn't turn up. You knew it was stupid getting attached to a customer like this, but Billy was different. You connected with him on a level you’d never experienced with any other customer before. You’d broken so many rules with him the night you allowed him at your place. One of the biggest rules at Jerry’s was not to take business home. Customers were never supposed to know where the girls lived. You were also not supposed to conduct business outside of the premises. But you’d taken Billy’s money and allowed him to do what he wanted. But since it wasn’t by the rules, you hadn’t disclosed that to Jerry. Which meant you got to keep every penny as Jerry usually took a small cut of the extra money. You’d be worried something bad happened to Billy with him not turning up once if it wasn't for one thing. Every night you got home from work, there was a single flower laid just outside of your apartment door. There was never a note, nothing to accompany it. Just one single flower. And after two weeks of it, you were slowly assembling a nice bouquet of flowers. There was no way for certain to know if it was Billy but you just knew in your gut it was him. Not many people knew where you lived and you knew it wasn't any of them. But the idea of Billy coming here to leave flowers for you made your stomach flip around on you like a fish out of water. It was an intimate and soft gesture that no one had ever bothered to bestow you before. You had wondered why he didn't just turn up at your place when you were there, he knew what time you got off work. But again, maybe he didn't want to face you. Maybe this was new and strange for him. You honestly had no idea what went on in that head of his. He seemed like he didn't know either half of the time.

As you stepped out of the elevator, you frowned softly as disappointment wrapped around you. There was no flower tonight. You wondered why. Maybe he was done now, maybe there would be no more flowers. You tried not to be bothered by it as you went inside. The flowers were in a large vase on the dining table. It was a mix of lilac-colored roses, wine-colored carnations, white snapdragons, and pink alstroemeria. You idly wondered if he was getting them one by one or if he’d bought a bouquet and was taking care of them as he sent them over to you. Either way, they were beautiful. Your brain had been in non-stop mode since Billy decided to stop seeing you and you hadn’t been sleeping well. The scent of him in your bed had long faded which made you sad and you weren't sure if he’d ever show his face again. So with a deep sigh, you moved into your bedroom and got into your tank and short pajamas. Knowing you wouldn't be able to sleep, you moved back into the living room and turned on the TV as you curled up on the sofa, hoping to find something to watch. You were flicking through the channels feeling bored when there was a loud frantic knocking at your door. You sat up, squinting at the door. The loud rapping happened again so you stood and hurried to the door. When you swung it open, Billy was standing there. Billy who was covered in blood, breathing heavily and a wild look in his eyes like he was about to snap.

“Oh my god, Billy!” you gasped, yanking him inside and slamming the door shut. Your brain was firing off on all cylinders as you lifted his t-shirt, eyes rapidly looking for the wound the blood had come from.

“It's not my blood,” he muttered tensely. He was holding his body tightly and unmoving. You glanced up at his words but your hand was still fisting his shirt. Maybe you should have been scared by his words or the dark look in his eyes. Maybe you should have gasped and moved away from him, cowering in fear. Yet you did neither. You didn't move from where you were, right in front of him.

“Whose is it?” you asked calmly. You weren’t sure if it was the lack of fear of judgment in your tone but his body seemed to relax, but the crazed look in his eyes didn't waver.

“The guy that did that to you,” he stated simply, voice holding a barely concealed rage. You blinked at him for a moment as your brain tried to digest what he’d just told you.

“You killed him?” you asked carefully. Again, you weren't scared. And honestly, you didn't hold any remorse either. The guy wasn't a good person and you doubted you’d been his first victim, nor be his last. Billy’s eyes seemed to dart everywhere at once before they landed back on you and he nodded.

“Asshole hurt you, tried to… I don’t take to kindly to someone fuckin’ with my girl,” he bit out. His words made warmth bloom in your chest as you looked at his raw and vulnerable face. You weren't quite sure what to say because thank you didn't seem enough on its own. So you closed what little distance was between you, leaning up and placing a kiss on his lips.

He didn't move at first. Didn’t react at all like he was in shock. But then his bloodied hand came to your face, his other your waist as he kissed you back. It was the most tender kiss you’d shared with him. There were no feral intentions, no desperate need for each other. It was slow and sweet. When you moved away, you gave him a smile.

“Thank you,” you murmured sincerely. His face lit up at your words, a smile on his own face. It was different to all of the others you'd seen him wear though. It was boyish, almost shy as he ducked his head with a shrug. You weren't quite sure what to do or say now, but your eyes drifted to his blood-soaked clothes and skin.

“We need to get you in the shower,” you mused, already thinking about how to dispose of his clothes. You weren't about to let him go away for this. Not when he’d done it for you. You felt like a weight had been lifted knowing that asshole was dead. Especially after what he’d done to your car. It had been in the shop since and Elissa had been giving you a ride to and from work. You knew he wouldn't have let this go and you’d always be looking over your shoulder. And you’d also had nightmares about it. Something you weren't quite proud of. But now you didn't need to worry, didn't need to fear he’d pop up out of nowhere like the first time he’d attacked you because he was gone. Billy nodded, allowing you to lead him to the bathroom.

“I love the flowers by the way,” you said softly, glancing at him as he stripped.

“Good,” he stated simply, not looking at you. You could see he was feeling a little bashful so you decided not to press it. You moved to turn the shower on, messing with the settings and Billy moved behind you. He settled his hands on your hips, nuzzling your neck sweetly and you smiled. It was strange. Billy had been a whirlwind since he’d come into your life, making you feel things you’d never felt before. He made you feel upside down and inside out and more vulnerable than ever in your life. You never thought you’d find someone to care about you this much, and you knew now that he did care. And you’d admit you cared about him too. You couldn't believe you’d found someone who would do anything for you. Including literally murdering someone. You couldn't lie to yourself any longer, he wasn't just a customer to you, not anymore. He hadn't been in a long time.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine

88 notes · View notes

theslowesthnery · 2 years

Note

So I've been following you for a little while and just sort of absorbing the elden ring stuff. Looks cool, love the energy, but I don't have a console that can play it. I knew Mohg was like a big scary monster dude, but I hadn't really looked at a picture of him. The... Discourse about him apparently being bad gay rep made me curious though and

I don't think this thing is any kind of stereotype he's a big monster man with tentacle horns what the hell do these people want

"oooh the boss monster that looks like Cthulhu fucked a minotaur is bad queer rep" I don't know how to tell you this man but I don't think he's any kind of rep

Like how is "the horrifying monster man is homophobic" a take anyone can seriously have just look at that thing. How is putting the word "homophobic" on this not an obvious joke.

Anyway love the monsterfucking please never change

to be perfectly fair, it's not mohg's design or him being a big scary monster dude that's the problem: it's his lore and motivations. see, he kidnaps miquella, a demigod, who he wants to elevate into full godhood so he can become miquella's consort. there are a couple of "issues" with that: one, miquella is asleep and isn't consenting to anything; two, miquella is mohg's half-brother; three, miquella is cursed with eternal youth so he's physically a child (age-wise he is an adult though because his twin sister who doesn't share his curse is an adult). so you can probably guess why people have problems with that, especially since the game certainly makes it seem like it's not solely a power grab on mohg's part, but he's actually on at least some level infatuated with miquella (who, to be fair, is told to have the power to compel people's affection, but we never find out exactly what the deal there is). mohg also can turn himself into blood, and does that to hang out in miquella's veins when he's not bonking the player over the head with his big-ass blood trident and screaming angrily at them in latin

so that's the problem. and for the record, i have no issue with people not liking mohg or being uncomfortable with his whole miquella thing, but when people start claiming that mohg is a "stain" on elden ring and shouldn't exist because he's objectively "harmful gay rep" is when i start aggressively rolling my eyes and scooting to the complete opposite end of the spectrum where i'm like "y'know what, this man has done nothing wrong in his life" out of sheer spite lmao

...and some of us just look at this big scary monster dude with way too many horns and fangs who talks SO softly and gently to his object of affection whose malewife he wants to be and go

(and also some of us like the idea of the situation Not Being What It Seems, of miquella not being just a poor little helpless victim but perhaps an active participant. or alternatively him waking up and being totally on board with what's going on lmao and then domming mohg because that man could not dom his way out of a paper bag)

like i'm just tired of this "everything has to be good representation" thing, especially since "good representation" apparently means that everything has to be squeaky-clean and unproblematic and no one is allowed to be evil or fucked up, like idk i'd personally rather have interesting and compelling queer characters who are allowed to be messy and evil and even depraved over some sweet little perfect uwu cinnamon rolls

#elden ring for blacklist

68 notes · View notes

yee-fxcking-haw · 3 years

Text

•Man After Midnight•

Summary: Shota teaches Hitoshi how it's done in a cemetery.

Pairing: Dom Shota Aizawa x Sub FemReader x Switch Hitoshi Shinsou (all 18+)

Warnings: Threesome, Fingering, Oral (female and male receiving), Multiple orgasms, Sex on a grave, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Snowballing, Collaring, Dom/Sub dynamics, Poly dynamics.

Word count: 5,224

A/N: For once a fic if mine doesn't have Daddy kink, it does scream Daddy issues though lmao. I wrote the last 2k words of this in a hospital waiting room PLS bE NiCe.

Playlist

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You watch, transfixed as he slides his long, pale fingers up your skin. He moves the pesky fabric of your skirt out of the way, chuckling lowly when you shiver slightly.

“You’re a tease this evening.” You observe as his hand travels back towards your knee, away from where you need him.

Probably wise, considering you’re traveling at nearly ninety miles an hour down a very heavily wooded back road.

“Where are you taking me, Shouta?” You ask quietly, cautiously, knowing he doesn’t like being bothered with too many questions when he plans evenings like this.

It’s date night, but not your regular Saturday night wine and dine type of date night.

Once or twice a month you and Shota will spend a night out of the house, reserve a room, find some undisclosed location, and fuck your hearts out. Your relationship had always consisted of an electric sex life, but as of late you’ve both been exploring your very dark, very carnal desires.

One of the more drastic steps was allowing a third individual to enter into your sexual dynamic. A friend of Shota’s, his name is Hitoshi Shinsou. You had been introduced to the idea over an exquisite dinner one evening. Shota had explained Hitoshi was very intrigued by the kind of kinky lifestyle you two lived, and that he was very eager and willing to learn.

After that, Hitoshi began his education under Shouta, with you as his greatest tool for teaching.

Hitoshi is an aspiring Dom with an inexplicable soft spot for sweet little brats like you. This is why he and Shota got along so well. Shota has been working with him for months now, letting Hitoshi watch with wide, depraved, lavender eyes as he tames you, fucks your brains out, as he bends you until you break. He watches from a chair in the corner of the bedroom you share with Shota, occasionally with his hands tied, but he’s usually allowed the freedom to pleasure himself.

He’s only allowed to watch though, never touch, not yet. He’s allowed to touch himself, he’s allowed to talk, but he has not been allowed to lay a finger on you. The closest he’s come is tasting your release off of Shota’s fingers, thanking him and lamenting about how sweet you are.

He may be an aspiring Dom, but Hitoshi Shinsou is a brilliant little switch.

Needless to say, you and Hitoshi have developed some very intense tension, after hearing him ramble about how pretty you look when Shota is making you cry, you can’t help it. You don’t know somebody that intimately, you don’t watch somebody fall apart like that, and not want to be party to their undoing.

“We’re meeting Toshi somewhere.” He says, as calm and collected as ever.

“You’re going to spoil him tonight.” His voice rumbles slightly, eyes on the road, steady and intense,

“I- I am?” You want to pry, wanting to ask what the hell that entails.

Will he be allowed to touch you, taste you, will he finally be able to fuck you?

“His lesson will be very hands on this evening.”

You pause, waiting for an explanation, but you watch his brows draw together, his jaw set, and you know you’re not allowed to ask any further questions.

You may be a brat, but you’re not stupid.

A few bends and turns later, you’re pulling up to large, wrought iron gates.

“Just a moment, dear.” He kills the engine then pops open the door and slides out of the car.

You admire the way his long legs look in his dress pants, desire seeps into your skin as you watch his shoulders sway, adorned by a perfectly tailored blazer.

The man drips sexual tension, exudes power, and demands obedience.

He pops the gates open easily, your blood runs cold when you see what's beyond them.

You run your hands up and down the tops of your thighs anxiously, eyes locked at the various graves spread across the seemingly forgotten field. Ivy swallows the stones and creeps across the ground like long green fingers. The hair on the back of your neck raises, a sick feeling drips down your spine before it settles in your gut.

You're jolted from your anxiety when Shota appears on the outside of your door. He pops it open and offers you his hand.

"Is Hitoshi here?" You ask timidly as you take his hand and step out, heals crunching the gravel as you smooth your skirt down.

"He is." Another final statement, one that forbids any further questions.

You nod and loop your arm around his strong bicep. You let him guide you through the gates, thankful for the balmy summer air against your exposed legs.

You're guided down the winding pathway of the cemetery, you should feel haunted, oppressed by the eerie energy that clouds the air. You can't bring yourself to feel fear though, not when Shota has made the promise of being able to finally spoil Hitoshi.

You find him sitting alone on a bench next to the path, one long leg crossed over the other with his arms spread like swings across the back.

“How's it goin'?" His deep, bass filled voice slips from his lips, finding its way into your ribs, sending shivers through your body.

Cocky as ever, handsome as ever, Hitoshi never fails to make your mouth water.

He's presenting so relaxed, but there's something tight in his posture, like he's wound up, ready to pounce.

"Good evening, Hitoshi." Shota, "Both of you follow me." His greeting is short, almost bored sounding before he strolls off down the path at his lazy pace.

Hitoshi winks as you before standing up, he rolls his shoulders back then offers you his hand, which you take a bit too eagerly.

You both follow Shota along the path, silent but buzzing with anticipation. Sparks fly from your clasped hands, your cheeks grow hot as you try to keep up with the long strides of both men.

Eventually you find yourselves at a massive, knotted, cursed looking tree. The only thing illuminating the scene is the washed out light of the pale full moon. It hangs in the sky like a God, waiting to judge you for your sins.

"Here?" Hitoshi speaks up beside you as Shota strolls up to the tree, voice full of apprehension.

Then your blood freezes, your eyes lock on a slab of concrete that sticks up from the ground right in front of the tree. Shota is standing right before it, standing on someone's grave.

The sight makes your hair stand on end, your hand squeezes Hitoshi's involuntarily, desperately trying to hold on to something as the situation feels more and more out of your control.

"Here." Shota answers, gazing up at the wispy branches of the ugly old tree. Where the hell are you? More importantly, who the hell was that? Does Shota really intend on letting Hitoshi have his way with you on a grave?

He turns to face the two of you, a small, almost undetectable smile plays at the corners of his mouth.

His hand motions for you to come towards him with the gentle beckon of two fingers. You discard Hitoshi's hand, obeying instantly.

Shota's hand slides into his pocket, then he pulls out something that makes your whole body ache.

Your collar.

You want nothing more than to feel the cool leather wrap around your neck, have Shota guide you by the small metal loop in the front. All reservations about your current location are snuffed out by the heavy headspace that envelopes you.

Such a beautiful little piece, reminding you of all the way Shota has taken you, loved you, tamed you.

"Please?" Is all you can muster, voice soft and full of longing.

His hand comes to the bottom of your chin, tilting it up as he considers your face. His dazzling, dark eyes take in every feature.

"Of course, sweet girl." He loops it around you so gently, clasping the back with care, keeping your hair out of the way.

A pair of hands slide over your waist from behind, the sensation sends a wave of chills down your body. He's allowed to touch you? Did he even ask?

Hot lips are on your neck, and Shota just watches. A look you can't decipher flashes through his eyes. Then, tenderly, he puts his index finger through the loop on the front of your collar.

Then your head really swims.

With Hitoshi's mouth working against your heated skin, and Shota's eyes ripping you to shreds.

"She's a pretty little thing, isn't she, Toshi?" Shota mutters as he pulls you forward by the guide on your neck.

"She's perfect… She's so soft…" Hitoshi confesses, hands tightening around your waist, lips never fully leaving your neck.

With his other hand, Shota reaches up to grab Hitoshi by the chin. You both stand there, frozen, captivated by the authority that possesses you.

"You'll both behave tonight, won't you?" He asks, it's a loaded question and you know it. If Hitoshi is smart, he catches it too.

He didn't say be good, he said behave.

You both nod, silent and entranced.

"Speak up, please." There's no impatience to his voice, only guidance.

"Yes Sir." It's said in unison, but it couldn't sound more dissonant.

Your voice is willing and obedient. Hitoshi's is reluctant, relenting of control.

Shota seems pleased, though, enough to lean forward and take your lips with his. Hitoshi takes this as permission to continue working his lips against your neck.

You lose yourself then, melting between them, heating pooling between your weak legs as you let the two of them pull you to the ground. You whimper at the tug against your neck, only slightly shocked by the feeling of cement beneath your knees.

Hitoshi's hands become greedy at your waist, tugging at your clothes as he starts to use less tongue and more teeth.

"Can I please leave marks?" Hitoshi huffs against your skin, he sounds so desperate, like he's barely holding back.

Shota breaks your kiss, meeting Hitoshi's eyes as he awaits permission expectantly.

"Can he?" Shota's eyes meet yours, eyebrows raised.

"P-please." It's quiet, it's needy, it tumbles from your lips without your brain's consent.

Then he's on you, vibrant and selfish as his mouth explores every inch of skin it can. He leaves pretty little red marks up and down your neck as he works, pulling sweet moans from your parted lips.

"Good girl, tell him what you like." Shota whispers. Then, his hands are on your waist, pulling you up slightly so he can spin you on his lap.

He reclines back on the headstone, pulling your back against his chest and he hooks your legs over the tops of his thighs. You're left completely exposed to Hitoshi whose eyes are already ablaze with lust.

"Help me get these out of the way." Shota says to Hitoshi as he tugs at your skirt.

And then they're both on you like animals. Pulling and tugging away all of your clothes. Hitoshi does most of the work as Shota directs your body like a puppet until you're fully rid of the pesky fabrics.

It's almost embarrassing, being naked while they're both so covered. It's not quite deserving of shame, though. If anything, it's exhilarating.

Still in your place on Shota's lap, your body is washed by the warm evening breeze, bathed in moonlight as Hitoshi all but drools over your exposed curves.

He kneels between yours and Shota's legs, eyes darting madly over the planes of your body, taking I'm every detail he can.

"Don't just stare at her, Toshi, make her feel good." Shota says as he slides a hand around your waist, inching it down to your heated center.

"You like to feel good, don't you baby?" Another kiss is placed under your ear as his hand dips lower.

The pad of his middle finger slides over your clit, making you jump just a little. Both men chuckle darkly as your jittery reaction, but the laughter dies when he starts to draw slow, lazy circles against you.

Your head falls back onto his shoulder, eyes fluttering closed as he starts to work his magic. He moves his fingers with so much skill and familiarity, your walls start gripping immediately.

"Start with your fingers, ease her into it." Shota instructs. Your eyes blink open, and the way that Hitoshi is looking at you makes you gasp.

He looks positively wild, dark shadows decorate his pretty face in such an ominous way. His eyes are less teasing, more focused and intense. He doesn't look like a brat. He looks like he's in charge.

Cautiously, he hand drifts down your inner thigh, eyes locked on yours the whole time. Shota continues to work at your clit as Hitoshi starts to tease the crux of your thigh with his thumb.

"Have some fun with her, that's what we're here for." Shota smiles against your neck when your hips buck after he applies slightly more pressure.

"Is one man not enough for you? You need two of us playing with that little cunt?" Hitoshi's words drip from his mouth like ice. You tense under their weight, shocked by his confidence.

His thumbs play at your slit, gathering the slick there.

"God, she's fucking soaked." He looks to Shota who only smiles while he slides his own fingers down to feel your wet hole.

"Oh she is." He says with a mocking tone.

"You think you can take Toshi's fingers? Ask him nicely, maybe he'll play with you." His other hand slides up to grab your jaw, directing your gaze to Hitoshi.

"Please- Toshi, please touch me." His whole body sags when he hears your sweet pleading, not used to it being directed at him.

He loves it, and god does he want more.

Your chest burns when he flattens himself into his stomach, hands splayed across your thighs as he watched Shota play with your clit.

Hitoshi's eyes stay on yours as Shota's lips stay at your neck. With an agonizing pace, Hitoshi finally brings his long middle finger to your entrance and slips it in.

The sensation is nothing but a tease, a preamble to what will inevitably turn into wild, blinding pleasure. For now, you can only lay there and shutter when he adds a second finger. Both men work together until your legs are twitching as sweat beads on your brow.

"You feel how tight she's getting? When she does that curl those fingers." Shota tells Hitoshi, his own fingers start moving a little faster, pushing down a little more.

"Oh fuck." You huff when Hitoshi does as he's told, kissing your sweet spot with his fingers as he curls them.

"Good boy." Shota groans, paying close attention to the way your body trembles.

"I wanna taste her, please let me taste her." Toshi begs with a frantic voice, fingers working mercilessly against your walls.

Shota doesn't answer, he only chuckles deep in his chest as he reaches out to grab Hitoshi by the hair at the front of his head. Both men remove their hands from your core as Hitoshi presses his hot, greedy mouth to your dripping sex.

All you can do is cry out and buck against his mouth as his tongue finds your clit, he moans against you, slurping and sucking obscenely as you shiver and sob.

Shota keeps his hand firmly planted in Toshi's hair, the other grabs you under the knee to crank your leg up, spreading you nice and wide for his prodigy.

"Flatten that tongue, press down." Shota tightens his grip on Hitoshi's hair, who listens well and executes perfectly.

Your back bends and your hands fly to Hitoshi's purple waves as shocks of pleasure shoot through you, you feel it building, capturing your very soul. Shota's other hand meets your other leg to mirror his hold on both sides.

You roll your hips against Hitoshi's mouth, his slick tongue glides up and down on your clit, eyes watching your every move, reading you, memorizing the way you react.

"Let him have it, Kitten, he wants it so damn bad." Shota mumbles against your ear, and that's all it takes.

You crest brilliantly, throbbing and aching between them both. Shota mutters his sweet praises while Hitoshi laps up everything you have for him, moaning like a bitch against your cunt.

"You taste so fucking good, your pussy is so sweet." He says against you, never fully removing his mouth.

"You should feel how tight she gets when she's got a dick inside her." Shota teases, laughing when you gasp and try to squeeze your thighs shut.

He keeps you held open for Hitoshi until he's licked up your entire mess. Finally, he pulls away, licking his lips with the devil in his eyes.

"Can I?" His voice is so shaky, so unhinged, driven over the edge of sanity by his desire to ravage you now that he finally can.

He looks between the both of you, waiting for someone to unhook his leash, desperate to be let lose you.

You wait with baited breath, looking back at Shota for his response. He looks down at you with eyes full of depravity and possession.

"Fuck her right, Toshi." His order sends you both reeling.

He doesn't need to be told twice, he barely needs to be told once. As soon as Shota grants him permission, Hitoshi is kissing up your body, his hands reach up to play with your firm nipples. He rolls them between his fingers as he kisses up between your breasts.

Shota stays steady behind you, still dutifully holding your legs open. He kisses your neck on occasion, tells you how good you're being, promising that Hitoshi will make you feel so good.

"Doesn't she look pretty with her legs spread?" Shota muses, his own long legs spread just a bit wider as he drops yours back over his thighs.

"She's perfect like this…" Hitoshi growls, teeth teasing your collar bone.

He makes quick work of his pants, only pushing them down around his thighs, in too much of a rush to take them off completely. As Hitoshi moves, you become painfully aware of Shota's hard length pressing into your backside.

You wiggle back against him, teasing him with your ass. His hands fly to your hips, stilling your movements.

"Does somebody need a cock inside her?" Shota says with a low, mocking tone, "You can help her, can't you, Toshi? You can stuff her little pussy?"

Hitoshi slides his briefs down to join his pants, nodding as he grabs himself and starts to pump. He's already so hard, he's so long and curved and pretty.

You whimper and wiggle, overwhelmed by Shota's words, by Hitoshi's beauty.

"So quiet tonight, come on, kitten. You can be so mouthy." Hitoshi says as he leans forward, he braces himself on the headstone behind Shota. His long body looms over yours as Shota snakes one arm around your waist, the other comes up to hold you by the collar.

You watch with tingling nerves as Hitoshi lines himself up with your center, running his thick head along your folds.

"Let him hear you, make this fun for him." Shota orders against your ear, it's a harsh whisper, leaving no room for negotiation.

"Yes Sir- Oh fuck, Toshi!" He pushes in, rough and sudden. A cheshire smile spreads across his lips as he watches you jump in Shota's arms.

"Take it, be still." Shota says, less authoritative, more amused.

Hitoshi presses in, a little too fast, a little too hard. He stretches you as he works his way in, obsessed with the way your walls pulse around him. Even the "too much" of it feels heavenly, so you don't stop it, you do what you're told. You hold still. You take it.

"Fucking hell." Hitoshi pants as he bottoms out, forehead falling against yours as your walls flutter. Your hands grasp at his muscular sides, nails digging in just a little when he leans into you a bit more.

"She's so fucking tight." He breathes, brows drawn together like he's already trying to hold in his release. He seems baffled, taken by surprise, but most of all, entranced.

"She always is." Shota says before licking up the shell of your ear. The action makes you clench, which makes Hitoshi shutter as a small, broken sound leaves his throat.

His eyes are locked on where you meet, fixating on the way he splits you open. Meanwhile, you lay there spellbound between their two strong bodies. The rise and fall of Shota's chest lolls you into a trance as Hitoshi sinks down against you.

He plants one hand firmly on the ground, the other grips the headstone like a vice, and then he starts moving.

"Tell him how you like it, sweet girl." Shota abandons his hold on your collar, opting to wrap his hand around your throat instead.

"Hard. Harder Toshi, please." You say, your voice is pathetic, but you can't begin to care.

His eyes lock with yours, that dangerous, carnal glint returns to them. His lips twitch into a smirk before he pulls back and slams back into you.

Shota's grip on your throat tightens as he laughs against your neck when you arch and cry out for Hitoshi.

"Like that?" He leans down to capture your lips with his.

It catches you by surprise, how soft they are, how easily they fit between yours. You'd imagined kissing him countless times, and this more than lives up to your fantasies.

He breaks it, leaning his forehead against yours.

"Speak up, kitten." Hitoshi says.

"Answer him." Shota adds on.

"Yes! Like that, just like that." You admit, your nails rake down his back as your hips roll up, desperate for him to move again.

"Show her how it's done, kid." Shota's voice is nothing but black velvet wrapping itself around you and Hitoshi. You know you're done for by the way his eyelids fall low, the way every muscle in his torso tenses.

Then he shows you.

With one swift motion he pulls back and lets loose on your poor body. He fucks you with every ounce of built up passion, remembering all the times he watched Shota have all the fun. Neither of you can stop your moans and pleas from leaving you, both completely enraptured with the way the other's body responds.

"Good fucking girl. You like it don't you? You'll take any cock you can get, huh?" Shota's words are firey now, lighting up your skin, burning away any self control you had left.

You nod frantically and muster one, pitiful "uh-huh" as Hitoshi finally rocks himself into your sweet spot. If it weren't for Shota's arm latching you against his chest, you would have jumped damn near jumped to the moon.

"Oh baby. Did I get it? Is that the spot that makes this kitty purr?" Hitoshi grins down at you, still thrusting with all of his strength.

His lessons with Shota have evidently paid off, he's a natural, his words turn you to mush, utterly compliant mush.

You can't answer, every time he sinks in he kisses it with his cock. Your legs start to tremble and the tears start to fall as the heat builds and builds and builds between your legs.

"It sure fuckin' is, poor thing can't even talk." Shota taunts, the hand around your throat tightens just a little, only enough to remind you that you're at his mercy.

"I'm- oh my god- I'm so close, so fucking close." Is all you can manage to say, and it's a fight to get the words out, all of your brain power is being used to focus on the electricity thrumming through your core.

"Let me help you with that." Shota says, his hand leaves your throat and snakes down your body.

His middle finger is on your clit before you can even blink. Then you break. You sob and buck and claw as everything comes to peak. You feel the ghost of Shota's lips on your neck, the phantom of Hitoshi's thrusts, but most of all you just feel yourself shatter.

"So. Fucking. Tight- shit!" Hitoshi grits out as he fucks you through it.

His rhythm is thrown slightly by the way you grip him. Shota's fingers slow in harmony with your clamping walls, easing you through your bliss.

With one last push in, and one last beautiful, almost sorrowful moan, Hitoshi buries himself inside of you. You watch how his body trembles when he finishes, how he bites his bottom lip and screws his eyes shut.

He's so damn gorgeous.

"What do you say?" Shota mumbles over your shoulder.

"Thank you, sir." You both sigh, bodies still twitching against each other.

A rough hand seizes your jaw.

"Hands and knees, girl." He spits.

There's your dom.

Reluctantly, slowly, Hitoshi pulls out of you. Somehow he's still hard, maybe even more swollen than before. Shota releases you from his lap, and your body moves to obey him instantly.

As you settle on all fours, the rough ground bites at your knees but you welcome it. Shota frees himself from the confines of his pants as you adjust your posture. He's not quite as long as Hitoshi, but he's thicker. Your mouth waters as he starts to move his fist over the weeping head.

Hitoshi settles behind you, his hands run over your ass as Shota leans forward to hook a finger into your collar. With a gentle tug forward, he glares down at you, his raven hair falling around his face in wild waves.

"Get to work." He commands as he pulls you down towards his length.

You open your mouth instantly, more than ready to obey.

As you take him in, reveling in the tangy precum spreading across your tongue, you feel a hand in the back of your hair.

But it's not Shota's.

Hitoshi's guiding hand pushing you down onto his teacher's cock.

"You too, Toshi, that cunt isn't going to fuck itself." You try not to choke around him as his words settle like ice in your gut.

You look up at Shota with watery eyes as he hits the back of your throat. Then you feel Hitoshi at your entrance again, making you moan around Shota as he pushes in.

Both men swear, voices low and harsh as they fill you. Hitoshi hands grapple at the fat of your hips while Shota's settle in your hair.

Then they both start moving.

Shota fucks up into your open mouth as Toshi builds a slow, deep rhythm behind you.

"You're just a little cocksleeve aren't you? You live for this shit." Shota moans as he throws his head back as you take control and start bobbing your head up and down.

"That's my girl, suck that cock." He puts his hands behind his head, relaxing against the headstone.

The image should make your skin crawl, but it only makes your core clench tighter, which only makes Hitoshi fuck you harder.

"How's she feel, kid? Is that pussy everything you dreamed of?" Shota asks, marveling at the scene he's created.

"She's perfect- fuck- she feels so damn good." He finds your sweet spot again, staying right on top of it when you moan around Shota.

"Oh she likes it. She loves taking that cock." He chuckles, earning a sweet, high pitched moans from Hitoshi.

Hitoshi may want to be in charge, but he's quickly remembering who is in charge.

You focus on breathing through your nose, allowing your throat to open so you can take Shota even deeper. He hisses as his hips stutter up, cheeks flushing as he watches you work.

"Good girl, open up for me." He praises, nodding his head as he speaks.

Drool seeps out of your mouth and down his length as the tears finally fall, you feel your slick run down your thighs as Hitoshi rams into you over and over. All you can do is tremble and take both of them, but you wouldn't want to be doing anything else.

"You feel so good, kitten, you're taking it so well." Hitoshi moans from behind you, nails digging into your ass as he pounds away.

"She always takes it so well." Shota says fondly.

Your next orgasm hits you out of nowhere, all consuming as it rips through your body. The praise of both men going directly to your core. You pull off Shota's cock to gasp and moan, but you replace your mouth with your hand, pumping him up and down.

Suddenly, Shota is standing to his feet, grabbing you under your arms so he can push against Hitoshi, who gladly grabs you around the neck with his hand. The new angle prolongs your aftershocks, body limp and buzzing as Shota stands with his legs spread and his cock in his hand.

"Open wide, kitten. He's got somethin' for you." Hitoshi whispers in your ear before crying out against you as he stills inside you once more so he can spill into you.

Shota watches with selfish eyes as you both fall apart for each other. He lets the head of his cock fall against your bottom lip, a low groan rolls out of him as he fills your mouth with his release.

"Don't swallow it. Hold it." You answer by keeping your eyes on his as your hands slide up his thighs.

Hitoshi pants against your shoulder as you take Shota's load. His taste spreads across your taste buds, warm and familiar.

With one last pulse, he finishes completely.

"How about you be a good girl and share?" Shota says with a dark tone, nodding at Hitoshi.

"God, please, let me taste it." Hitoshi begs, his hands squeeze at your waist as he slips out of you.

He kneels beside you before taking your face in his hands, then he opens his mouth and looks at you with wide, expectant eyes.

Hitoshi Shinsou, what a brilliant little switch.

You grab his jaw and lean forward before you part your lips, allowing Shota's load to dribble down onto Hitoshi's tongue. The depravity of it all sends a thrill screaming through your soul. Every inch of you aches for more of this, more of both of these men.

Hitoshi moans as he takes everything you give him, swallowing with greed before wiping his mouth with the back of your hands.

"Look at you two, just a couple of cumsluts." He grabs you both by the hair, forcing you to look at him.

"You both did so well." He sighs, looking at you both affectionately.

"I should let you play together more often."

If it means you get to end up like this, skinned knees, covered in sweat and cum, fucked well over some poor soul's grave. You hope he lets you play together more often, you crave it more than anything now.

Hitoshi Shinsou could definitely learn to be a dom, especially with more lessons like these.

#hitoshi shinsou #shota aizawa #shouta aizawa #aizawa smut #shinsou smut #shinzawa smut #shinzawa #bnha smut #my hero smut #my hero academia smut #eraser daddy #eraserhead #pro hero shinsou #dadzawa

321 notes · View notes

kyluxtrashpit · 3 years

Text

2020 Fic Recap

I really like writing these and 2020 has been a HELL of a year, so here we go lmao. It’s been a wild ride for sure

Total wordcount: 88 109 words (note: I’m subtracting the ‘sorry I didn’t finish this, here’s a summary of the remaining plot’ that I published for a fic in a previous fandom from this since it’s not relevant here). Overall I wrote less than last year, but given all that happened in terms of the world and personally and fandom-wise and all of it, I don’t feel too bad about it lmao. I also have a lot of WIP words of half-finished things and some planning and such so I feel okay with this

Favours, 4906 words, posted Jan 4

This was a weird one cause this is a two chapter reader insert fic, the same story but told with both Phasma and Hux. I originally wrote this for Phasma, but later decided it would be easy to tweak into a Hux story (which it was lmao) and figured people might like that, so I did both. I had fun doing it, even if this is kind of a very small niche ship and trope wise

Know Your Shadow, 5022 words, posted Feb 16

Ah yes, here we are, the first foray into renben, a ship I had NO idea would grab me so hard but here we are lmao. I’m not done with them either yet, don’t you worry. There’s something about the corruption angle I really like, also Ren is HOT, and it’s also interesting to think about Kylo truly getting to find himself and be who he wants to be. Canon didn’t really satisfy on this, but the concept still interests me and it’s what had me writing this fic. Also, Ben losing his virginity to an older man like Ren is just *chef’s kiss*

Public Indecency, 3719 words, posted Mar 1

And my second renben! This was partially inspired by art and partially by just the idea of not giving one single fuck, and how thrilling that must be for someone like Ben to experience. Ren and the KOR truly do not give a shit and it’s really beautiful in a way. Plus some hinting at found family with the KOR. Ngl, Ben/Kylo finding his place and acceptance with the KOR makes me so Soft and there’s so many words I could write about it. Plus public sex is very hot lmao

Beautiful, 3254 words, posted Mar 8

Back to kylux, and this one was an old WIP I started back when the prompt was first posted on KHK in like 2019 or something. I got stuck on it and then left it for a while. I was digging through my old WIPs, looking for something that might catch my interest and boom, this one did, so I finished it and then posted it. I quite like the fic and it’s a bit more in the ~classic~ style. It’s also always a good feeling to get an old WIP done lmao

Choose Your Destiny, 5077 words, posted Mar 20

More renben and this was my fix it fic for ROKR vol 4. I talked about this more on twitter at the time and why I found the story as it was unsatisfying, but ultimately it’s really just a case of rushed writing and playing into established bad writing (e.g. showing a fall from grace by having someone kill someone eviler than themselves). I also really liked Ren and I felt like Kylo didn’t really get to have enough agency in like... any of it. His motivations were weirdly absent as well, despite this being ostensibly about him. So I wrote this, which I think handled how the story should have gone a lot better and, plus, it’s got smut!

(Okay and the rest are behind a cut for length)

Show of Devotion, 2479 words, posted Mar 28

Renben once again and this time, I mean, it’s all inappropriate use of lightsabers lmao. I was looking at the Ren and was like ‘wow that is SO phallic’ and then the horny brain turned on and, well, here we are. I also wanted a side of found family with the KOR and I think got that with this. It’s horny. It’s fun. What more could one want?

Aural, 2729 words, posted May 12

Okay this one... I have absolutely no excuses for lmao. I’m not even sure where the inspiration came from, I just remember I was in an online work meeting that was boring and the entire sequence of events played itself out in my head. It was all I could do to focus on work for the rest of the day and not immediately write this cursed creation lmao. The worst part was I’d been totally blocked on writing since March and this, THIS, was what eventually broke out of me. In case you haven’t read this one, it’s ear sex. Hux’s dick, Kylo’s ear. No, I don’t know the logistics either. But hey, I had a blast with it, both in terms of writing it and the reactions lmao. Someday I gotta write a follow up involving a nose too

Missed Chances, 10 749 words, posted Jun 7

Ah yes, this is the point where my renben met my kylux and created this absolutely enormous peanut butter cup of a fic lmao. It really was supposed to be like half the length it was, but alas, it was not. Also cockblocking kylux was SO hard, they wanted to fuck SO bad, but I had to stop them, the story demanded it lmao (and people in the comments were MAD, which is always excellent). It’s also when my renben series really started to have like, an overarching plot (aside from the modern au fics which I’ll talk about later). I even still have more instalments planned

Free Use, 6971 words, posted Jun 23

Another one that turned out far longer than initially planned, and also my most popular fic this year! I’m both surprised and not cause like. It’s a complete smut fest + my heavy headcanoning of the personalities of the KOR. People like smut, but I also feel it’s kinda niche considering how deep I’m in for the KOR lmao. So idk, I guess the smut won out. I did have a lot of fun with this one and there’s a lot of characterization thought put into each KOR, so it was really nice to see people loving that as much as I did. Canon gave us crumbs, but I just used them to make meatballs

Eat You Up, 1573 words, posted Jul 5

There’s not a lot to this one, it’s really just renben rimming cause the sexual dynamic with renben is so fun. Kylo/Ben is inexperienced yet eager and depraved enough to impress Ren, which is something considering I think of Ren as Very Experienced lmao. I really do love this ship; it’s a lot of fun to play with

In the Vents, 2002 words, posted Aug 3

Ah and this was my first piece for the stuck inside event on twitter, which I had a lot of fun with. Stuck fetish is one I’ve always wanted to explore, but never had any concrete ideas for. This event led to me finally getting to have Kylo stuck in a wall (plus more as well), which was fun. Also I spent far too long thinking about Hux’s vent contraption set up cause I knew he would never let Millie go anywhere that might hurt her, so I had to come up with a way to make the vent safe and here we are lmao. Hux being an engineer and also the most extra cat owner in existence worked out very well indeed. This was also the start of my creativity boom near the middle-end of the year that uh kinda burned out in a not so great way, but I’ll talk about that later lmao

Distraction, 3658 words, posted Aug 6

Another for the stuck inside event and another kylux/renben sandwich! Also featuring the KOR this time! Listen... it’s a gangbang, it’s got renben, it’s got kylux, it’s got Kylo getting stuffed from all ends... this is the kind of fic that, to me, is pure indulgence lmao. I had a tremendous amount of fun with it

Entrapped, 3484 words, posted Aug 8

So this was also for the stuck inside event (yes, I wrote 3 fics in about a week lmao - I don’t know how I did it either) and it’s darker than the sort of things I usually write. I enjoyed exploring something like this though, something outside my usual purview. It didn’t perform super well, but tbh the dark ones rarely do so lmao

Pit Stop, 1505 words, posted Aug 31

Welp, this is just an excuse for watersports lmao. I like piss, what can I say? And I’ve done it to kylux, so I had to do it to renben, and the modern au ‘need to pee on a road trip’ seemed like the perfect opportunity for it. Not much to say for it really

The Deal, 2431 words, posted Sep 3

Ah and this one here was the first for the throwback event I ran on twitter! The event itself ended up kind of being tainted by drama from one singular person who kind of ruined it by being a jerk for literally no good reason, but I’m not going to talk too much about that. Even with that, I still greatly enjoyed it and this piece might be my favourite from it as a whole. Kylo Amidala, political scandals, neither of them being nice... ahhhh yes, it definitely brought me back lmao

Devotion, 1929 words, posted Sep 10

Another for the throwback event, this time with Emperor and Hound dynamics which, unf, yes, I will literally never get tired of it. I really had fun with every fic from this event and this one was great because I so rarely get to write real action scenes, even if they’re in a flashback here. That and the dynamic itself really made it fun

To Be Wanted, 10 473 words, posted Sep 16

Ah yes, and here is my KBB for the year! I did a minibang this time, as, well, everything was going horribly wrong around the time of sign ups and I thought a mini would be more realistic. I think I was right on that and I’m glad I did it, even if I was torn at the time. The idea itself is one I’d been thinking about for a while. I can’t remember if I thought of it after seeing the leaks for tros or after watching the movie itself, but it’s been with me for a while and while I dithered over whether or not to sign up this year, the idea came back and was just perfect for a minibang. Plus I got an absolutely amazing and wonderful partner, which is really what makes the experience of doing bangs so great. I love this fic, I LOVE the art for it, and the whole experience was definitely a highlight to 2020 as a whole, both overall and in terms of my fandom/writing experience this year

Floss Me, 2033 words, posted Sep 21

My third for the throwback event and also the dental fetish fic I’ve wanted to write for a while now lmao but could never figure out a scenario for. As some of you may remember, 2018-2019, I went through some pretty horrific dental stuff and ultimately I think it kinda gave me a fetish lmao. Also I feel like there may or may not have been a kinky flossing prompt on one of the prompt sites at some point, but I looked everywhere and couldn’t find it so. But anyway, it was a fun fic for a kink I think is quite underrated tbh

The Cost of Certainty, 2541 words, posted Sep 25

My fourth and final piece for the throwback event, and this one is also a contender for my favourite piece from that event. I have always loved the idea of Hux being a serial killer and this was a perfect excuse to write it. I’d also recently finished a rewatch of Hannibal and, well, you can see where this came from lmao. I love writing tension and it was just very fun all around. I almost wish I’d done something like this as a long fic but tbh I don’t think I would’ve enjoyed writing it as much

Huxloween Drawings, 676 words, posted Nov 1

So this isn’t a fic but rather the drawings I did for huxloween, but people wanted them on ao3, so posted they are. Now, I mentioned above that I had this massive creative boom in Aug-Sep, but that it burned out rather badly. This is when that happened. I got into this place where I just... felt like everything I made wasn’t wanted or needed in the fandom. That everything I like is so unpopular at this point that I should just give up and leave. That I’ve spent all this time and energy over the years trying so desperately to get people engaged and so few ever cared and I just... ugh. It was bad. It was really bad and definitely partly fuelled by the bullshit that someone brought up regarding the throwback event (and I still believe that they are the sole cause of it’s poor reception). I, uh, am doing better now and still working through it all but it was a really rough time. But I found myself still wanting to be creative so I decided to draw. I am not good at drawing. I am not an artist. But that’s what made it fun: I went into each drawing knowing it wasn’t gonna look great. That wasn’t the point. So I never got upset about it. I think it helped me a lot tbh and I did really enjoy it and I’m glad I did it

Unconventional, 7243 words (in progress), updated Dec 20, first posted Nov 18

So the next part of me trying to fix the bullshit in my brain creativity-wise was to post the first chapter to this fic. This is a piece I’ve been working on since 2016-2017 (I don’t remember exactly when, but it was pre-TLJ, and I’ve gotten a new computer since so I don’t have the original creation date of the document) but I could just... never get a plot together for it and ever since I abandoned a fic in my old fandom (and this year I finally posted the ‘sorry this isn’t getting finished, here’s a closure summary’ chapter), I’ve been hesitant to post WIPs before being at least 80% done. So I said fuck it, I’m gonna post this and not be scared. Is this fic complete? Nope, but the plan is starting to come together. Do I know exactly where it’s going? Nope, but I don’t need to. Is it self-indulgent as all hell? Absolutely. I love this fic and I love this story and I love the concepts within it. So I posted it and tbh, it really helped. And I think this, combined with my writing break where I drew for 31 days straight lmao were really my saving graces here

Test Run, 3661 words, posted Dec 31

And now my final fic of the year! Which is a ship I honestly wasn’t super into (I don’t hate it, it just generally doesn’t do much for me) but then I did that thing where I thought ‘hmm but could it be written in a way that I am into?’ which, in my experience, always leads to me writing exactly that. Which is what I did here lmao. I’m pretty happy with it though and despite it being very strange to write, as I really had to work to get these two to get where they were going lmao, I had fun with it. I honestly doubt I’ll write more of them, but I’m glad I wrote this one, and I think it’s a good experiment to close out the year with

What have I learned?

Honestly, this year was a clusterfuck lmao. 2019 wasn’t great for me either, but we all lived through this and it was certainly An Experience. I think what this year really helped me focus on was what made me happy. I ended up in some dark places and I don’t want to go there again. It feels repetitive to say that, once again, I have learned that writing what I want is key when I say that every damn year, but tbh I think 2020 underscored it even more so. Spite as a motivator, when used to much, smothers the spark of creativity and the joy of creation. The most important lesson I learned this year by far is to not let that take the driver’s seat. A dash here and there? That’s fine. But as your main motivator? That’s just not healthy. And I need to work to keep it from consuming me like it has been for too long

Goals for 2021?

So last year I didn’t set any hard goals and boy, is it a good thing I didn’t, cause I achieved none of them lmao. I didn’t write more words (though I did write more individual fics, and the word count gap between this year and last is about the size of the difference between a big bang fic and a mini bang fic so really, I think I did okay), I didn’t even write a single fic for BTHB, and, to be really honest, I did not manage to keep my love for writing alive the whole time. I was in a really dark place a few times this year, but that drop in Sep-Oct was the worst from a creative standpoint. I feel like I’m mostly out of it now, even if I still have some work to do maintaining it. I’m hopeful for the future in that regard. The only thing I really did accomplish was that I feel positively towards all the fics I wrote; I’m happy and proud of all of them

So what is my goal? Honestly, I feel like every year I have to relearn the lesson of ‘write what you want, have fun, be self-indulgent, fuck expectations, etc.’ and my goal this year is to not have to relearn that again, but to keep that energy and carry it with me for the whole year. I realize I may have to put some effort in there, but I’m okay with that. I don’t know what 2021 has in store, but if I can just keep my passion alive and not fall into that pit again, I’m calling it a win

#kylux #renben #hey I'm not late this year lmao #it's been an interesting one that's for sure #anyway I'm happy with all my fics this year which is good #but I need to keep working at keeping my head in the right space #which will likely take some practice #but I'm off to a good start #and I have good feelings about the future in that regard #so here's to a 2020 full of writing about kylo getting railed to high heaven #and to a 2021 full of the same!#my fic #long post #shut up nerd

33 notes · View notes

just-a-creep-babe · 4 years

Text

BEN NSFW Alphabet

Happy Valentine’s day yall!! Hope you’re getting your fill of smut around the internet ;)

And also THANK YOU for not only 400 followers but 420!! 😏😏 I’m thinkin about doing a fic giveaway at 500 if anyone’s interested ^~^

~Requests are closed~

Masterlist: x

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He’s pretty lazy tbh. Usually won’t get up for a towel unless you ask him to. He just likes to vibe afterwards, yknow? Maybe cuddle a bit next to you as he starts playing a game

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partners’)

Is hair a body part? Idk, but he’s fond of his dirty blond locks. If it doesn’t count though, he’s also proud of his hands. Always playing games means he’s got dextrous fingers perfect for coaxing all those pretty sounds from you

Ya boi’s a titty guy. Big titties, small titties, medium titties; doesn’t matter to him. He’ll love them no matter what. Expect plenty of hickeys on your chest. He also fucking loves thighs too and I mean who doesn’t, right?

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Loves cuming on you. Your chest, face, thighs, ass—anywhere, really. He just thinks it’s so hot. Bonus points if you bring it up to your mouth and lick it clean. Drives him nuts every time

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He‘s got a thing for underwear. Might steal your bra or panties and masturbate to them. It’s best not to ask where those stains came from, just be thankful you got them back 😅

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s relatively experienced. Knows what he’s doing & how to maneuver his way around another body, but he sometimes does get a bit unintentionally awkward just cause of who he is as a person lmao

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Oof definitely cowgirl. He can be pretty lazy & you riding him gives him the perfect opportunity to lay back and watch you do all the work. He’ll stare at your chest before eventually getting so horny he can’t help but grasp your thighs and fuck up into you like the depraved bastard he is

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He tends to be a bit of both. Might start off a little goofy at first but eventually gets more serious as things get heated. Sometimes likes making dirty jokes just cause he can he’s real classy

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He’s too lazy to groom himself often, so it can end up getting pretty messy, but he usually won’t let it get out of hand completely

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Like I said before, he tends to prefer lazy, casual sex over all else. He’s not really romantic, and would rather have a fwb thing instead of a romantic partner. There’s just less pressure for the whole thing

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Boy jerks off a lot. Usually once a day, if not more. If he’s feeling a lil shameless, he’ll send you pics/videos & invite you to join in too. He’s almost always horny

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Ooh, he’s got lots~ Hair pulling, for one. Tug on his blond locks and he’ll make the sexiest sound while frantically thrusting up into you. He also likes marking you anyway he can; it strokes his pride seeing your skin scratched & bruised because of him. He likes edging + edging and overstimulation & will definitely give you lil shocks if you’re ok with it

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He likes it in his bed, just cause it’s easy & comfy, but he’s also a fan of shower sex. Also, he can teleport into cyberspace & bring someone in, where he’s basically a god in there, so he enjoys having his fun where anything is possible~

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

He watches so much porn lmao but also just seeing you act super innocent or confident and sexy, maybe while wearing lingerie. Rub up against him while he’s playing a game and he’ll gladly fuck you senseless the whole night. Nearly anything and sometimes apparently nothing can set him off smh

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Besides the nasty stuff like scat no offence, I ain’t judging there’s really nothing he,, wouldn’t try? He’s an experimentalist at heart

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Hnnng receiving. Suck him off nice and good while he runs his fingers through your hair. It takes everything in his power to stop himself from fucking your throat raw

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He typically savors the act, unless it’s a quickie, so fucking tends to be slow enough to make the both of you last long. He might be painfully gentle to tease you, but more often than not, he’s a bit on the rougher side

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He’s in constant need of a quickie. Anyplace, anytime, you say it and he’s down. Sometimes they end up being longer sessions, but otherwise, a good closet fuck is all good and fine by him

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Risks are fine. He doesn’t really mind, they just don’t excite him too much because he honestly doesn’t really care if he’s caught. But if his partner’s into it, he’ll make sure the time & place are extra precarious. You probably will get caught at least once ngl

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He… *cough* trains *cough* so he can last a good amount of time. If he ejaculates prematurely, which rarely happens (but sometimes does when it’s been a while) he’ll definitely make it up to you. His oral skills are 👌👌

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He has a fleshlight n a couple of vibrators. Probably some handcuffs and a blindfold as well, but he doesn’t really need them because he can just summon chains & wires on the whim

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Loves teasing. So much. Until you’re writhing and moaning and begging and squirting all over his hands and raging hard-on. It’s such a power trip for him, he can’t get enough of mind breaking you

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

I’m assuming this is besides all the dirty talk, cause he’s got a filthy mouth. But usually, it starts off with heavy breathing, then a bit of swearing and groaning until he’s moaning and madly rutting his hips into your tight little hole. Usually groans a curse as he pumps you full of thick cum god I’m nasty

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He gets PEGGED!

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Mmm pretty average, but as I’ve mentioned in the nsfw headcanons, it’s, like, really pretty. Boy knows how to use it too

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

High! Af!! Almost as high as him when he’s got nothing else to do!

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Well, he doesn’t sleep very much, cause, yknow, he’s dead. But if his partner cuddles up next to him and starts dozing off, he might rest next to them if he’s feeling particularly affectionate. It’s pretty rare tho :/

#smut #creepypasta #lemon #ben #ben drowned smut #ben drowned x reader #ben drowned #creepypasta ben drowned #creepypasta headcanon #ben drowned headcanon

542 notes · View notes

blookmallow · 4 years

Text

and now we return to outlast 2, where-

THINGS KEEP GETTING SO, SO MUCH WORSE

(i have... a LOT im trying to process about this whole section sorry for upcoming text walls. really nasty #blood / #gore in here as well though) (i didnt realize i was This far behind on liveblogs lmao i drafted this. a while ago and didnt get back to it until now)

---

so i fell off the bridge (shock. horror. who could have predicted this) and right into the scalled village

what.............happened to you

fuCKING GO D

so it turns out “the scalled” are... some kind of leper colony banned from the town and left to fester and rot out here alone

most of them are just lying around suffering and dying, i dont know what the fuck happened to them, there’s some mention of like. wildly untreated syphilis/potentially other stds they’re being told is their curse for the sins they’ve committed but does.... syphilis do that to you. it might actually be leprosy i dont know i dont want to research this. all i can think about is when i watched jesus christ superstar in high school and the leper colony song where they’re all crowding around jesus all trying to touch him REALLY freaked me out for a while

i mean its like. probably a combination of disease left horrifically untreated and massively infected given the absolutely appalling conditions these people are living in (everything’s run down and full of blood and shit and who knows what else), starvation, who knows what they’re even finding to eat out here so that’s probably causing even more disease but still jesus christ

at first it just made me really sad, sure these people came from temple gate too so they were. fucked up cultists to begin with but a lot of this is like... result of longterm emotional and mental abuse and manipulation, some of these people might not have started out as depraved evil murderers, and like. nobody deserves to live like this. except knoth lmao throw him down here, but

so i thought maybe it would turn out that you realize they’re human too, they’re just in a fucking LOT of pain and maybe you can’t do anything to help them (i dont think there’s any hope for anyone down here at this point) but maybe they’d turn out to be on my side and do something to help me fight back against the leader who abandoned them, “the most absolutely fucked up looking people are actually the most human” kind of thing but uh. that is not how things went. at all,

ill get into How Fucking Bad this got in a second lmao but like

most of them dont really do anything to you other than bleed on you and beg you for help, some people lash out but thats like, understandable given the horrifying state they’re in, but

as it turns out, being the “scalled messiah” is a VERY bad thing, they went from occasionally lashing out at me to outright tracking me down to murder me to death which, like, honestly kind of disappointing

bc one of the things i liked the most about the first outlast was how many of the prisoners were clearly just victims too, some of them (lookin at you, naked twin guys,) were just evil and murderous but some of them were just very very mentally unwell (exacerbated by horrible living conditions and the fact that the people who were supposed to be protecting them and helping them recover were actively, intentionally working to make their symptoms worse) and couldn’t really be blamed for acting violently toward you, but

then sometimes there’s people who warn you about dangers ahead, people sitting in corners hiding and scared and wont hurt you unless you give them a reason to think you might be a threat, people just trying to stay alive, people who need help

but that’s. not the case here, and there’s definitely a particular kind of horror in “absolutely no one in this hell town can be trusted, nobody will help me, everyone here wants to hurt me and every time i think ive made any kind of progress it gets so much worse” (except that ONe guy who tried to protect me. im still sad about him) but. i dont know i feel like there’s a missed opportunity here. im not sure if im supposed to feel like the scalled deserve to be like this because of the kind of people they were before, but i dont. i feel like the “what the fucking shit HAPPENED to these people” horror is heightened by the realization that they’re people, and just kinda using them as attack zombies is. missing something, somehow. i dont know, i cant figure out how to word what i want to say here

i mean its absolutely fucking horrifying, i was scared out of my mind going through all this, and i still gotta give props to a video game experience that left me legitimately feeling like i needed to go take a shower and crawl under a blanket for a while

i guess ultimately with outlast im coming here to be scared shitless more than anything else and boy did they ever fucking deliver

ok im gonna stop bc i will keep talking in circles about this forever if i dont, moving on

WHAT EVEN ARE THESE GUYS, APART FROM COMPLETELY TERRIBLE

im guessing theres some kind of... inbreeding birth defect situation going on here but i cant even process what im looking at

that and its hard to look at them at all considering the only times i see them im getting murdered to death. my panicked screenshots hoping to get a better look later did not help

PRETTY SURE THEY JUST MADE HIM DRINK THEIR BLOOD,

how the fuck has my dude not thrown up like 90 times already. im glad he hasnt bc im bad emetophobia but outlast 1 did it so im honestly surprised that hasnt happened unless ive just forgotten it in the blur of nightmares im going through here

THAT’S... NOT GOOD

THAT IS REALLY, REALLY NOT GOOD

FUCK SHIT MOTHERFUCKING FUCK

i gotta say im impressed with how FAR they GO with this one, i have no idea how much game i have left but considering this isnt even the ending i am HORRIFIED to see what the fuck is gonna happen next

i mean outlast 1 has you getting your fucking fingers sliced off and whistleblower has. That Scene (even though like. it stops before waylon actually gets cut its REALLY CLOSE)

this whole time i kept thinking something would happen and they’d get interrupted, I’d escape somehow, they aren’t really going to have the player character get literally fucking crucified from your own perspective,

but then the nails go in

and you’ve got one hand literally nailed to a cross

and then they start the other one

and i was like, WOW FUCK, THEY ACTUALLY DID IT, BUT NOW HE’LL ESCAPE... SOMEHOW.... RIGHT ???

but they lift it up

and you’re hanging there

and for a second i legitimately thought it was gonna end there for him, i thought he was actually just going to die there and the game would continue with lynn or something (which, to be fair, would be a pretty cool twist, but i dont WANT blake to just die here like this)

ANYWAY!! FUCKING GOD, THAT SURE HAPPENED

but against all odds HE SOMEHOW DIDNT FUCKING DIE, and managed to find the strength to rIP HIS HANDS OUT OF THE NAILS AND FALL DOWN

i cannot fucking IMAGINE what that would feel like. i dont want to imagine it but i sure the fuck am now

i dont know if its possible to like. die from bleeding out in this scene if you dont find the bandages fast enough but it sure felt like i was going to

fucking hell i can practically feel it in my real hands i HATE THIS i HATe it

god. fuck. im gonna be thinking about this scene for the rest of my life i didnt think anything would ever be worse than the finger slicing scene in outlast 1 but this. i think this wins

wHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!?!??? THERES SOMETHING CHASING ME IN THE SCHOOL FLASHBACKS NOW IM NOT EVEN SAFE HERE ANYMORE

WHAT *IS* THAT??!??

w OA h

i still have no IDEA whats going on with these flashbacks either, clearly his classmate hung herself and he feels subconsciously responsible for it because he didn’t do anything to stop her (though it doesn’t sound like he Could have done anything, and. they were kids), there’s definitely some buried trauma he never dealt with thats resurfacing now but

i still dont think its just a manifestation of trauma, because like. the recordings are still coming out as fucked up static, if he was just having really intense hallucinations there wouldn’t be any record on the camera, it would just be him filming nothing and talking to himself through a panic attack, it wouldn’t be getting consistently corrupted ONLY during the flashbacks so what the fuck is happening

COLA

DRINK IT

i m losing it its the cola machines from the first game i diD NOT EXPECT THESE TO BE HERE

what the fuck is christian salad

you didn’t think i would see this, outlast devs, you thought you could hide this on the menu board and i wouldnt notice. i did notice and i demand answers

NO!!!! THAT IS THE OPPOSITE OF OKAY THIS IS THE LEAST OKAY I HAVE EVER BEEN IN MY LIFE

WELL!!!!! OKAY!!!! ALRIGHT!!!! NOW THAT I’VE BEEN LITERALLY FUCKING CRUCIFIED, FELL DOWN A HILL AND STRAIGHT INTO A FENCE OF BARBED WIRE, GOT DRAGGED OUT HERE AND BURIED ALIVE, CRAWLED MY WAY OUT OF MY OWN GRAVE AND NOW HAVE HOARDS OF DISEASED ZOMBIE NIGHTMARE CULTISTS SEARCHING FOR ME SO THEY CAN DEVOUR MY FLESH, LET’S GET GOING, SHALL WE

THIS IS FINE!!! EVERYTHING IS FINE I CANT SEE SHIT AND THERES NOTHING BUT TREES AND BARBED WIRE EVERYWHERE AND NO INDICATIONS WHATSOEVER OF WHERE I NEED TO GO BUT IT’S F IN E IM DOING GREAT

#lucy plays outlast 2 #was further behind than i thought lmao but heres some more

2 notes · View notes

dyketectivecomics · 5 years

Text

Retrieval, Ch. 9

Read on AO3 or below:

@squiddybeifong its been a long time pardner. (also a note, that uhhh, this one hasn't been edited for italics n such yet, so def preferable to read on ao3, but like.... i cant stop y'all from choosing one over the other lmao. just know that this is Longer Than Usual for ME)

...

Despite his growing concern, Constantine knew better than to disturb Zatanna and Raven from their meditative state, even though it had already been well over three hours of standstill with no signs of return. They each remained perfectly still and stoic, no matter what obstacles they may have been facing inside of Raven's mind at any given moment.

Of course, there was always the possibility that they could find their collective consciousness trapped endlessly inside of the confines of ill-gotten memories or repressed nightmares. But he was certain, if nothing else, they would find a way to send him a sign of that struggle, and of a need for help, should it come to that.

So for now, he sipped a bitterly steeped tea, and flipped between vinyls of The Clash and Fleetwood. And for the second in painfully short amount of time, he found himself hoping against every instinct that told him otherwise, that his girls were safe.

...

The stench hit, long before anything else in this new memory. The unholy combination of burning flesh mingling with excrement. Zatanna could feel bile rising in her throat, but closed her eyes, and carefully swallowed instead.

She'd already spent so much of this time screaming uncontrollably. Now, a more rational side of her mind began taking over, that logical shut down of the terror that was incredibly unhelpful in a moment of crisis.

After all, this wasn't actually Hell, she found herself reasoning. This was just a memory of it. Nothing would hurt her here.

But everything was going to hurt the little girl that she had followed down this particularly unpleasant rabbit hole.

When she remembered that, pushing past the blinding light and the mind-numbing terror within her, she could feel Raven's presence fully then. And the magician opened her eyes to see the girl's tiny body, curled in on itself in fear. It was instinct, then, running over to the girl and trying to pick her up. A desperate attempt to shield her from the torment that undoubtedly surrounded them.

Only to watch in horror as her own arms passed right through the girl, like those of a ghost.

She tried in vain, to turn the girl around by her shoulders, to grab her face to look into her eyes, anything to get her to focus away from what she was a witness to now.

"Raven, it's not real. It's a memory," she tried to remind the empath, to no avail. The girl's wide, amethyst eyes stared unblinkingly through the magician, and at the carnage beyond.

It was something that Zatanna was strangely familiar with. It was, after all, a kind of rite of passage for a mystic to visit Hell once or twice in a lifetime, if not to be doomed to spending an eternity there. Only if one upset the karmic balance of the universe too much, of course. Zatanna knew that she'd come close to that edge a few times in her life. But never close enough to warrant a lingering stay, never enough to earn eternal damnation.

Not yet, at least. And she certainly hoped to keep things that way.

Of course, she never was brought unwillingly to witness the worst that the Underworld had to offer. That was another reason for this hesitation to turn around, and to fully comprehend the horrors she had tried to save this girl from all of those years ago.

Steeling her nerves, she muttered one more reassurance, "It's not real, just a memory," and turned to see what Raven had seen.

And most of all, to understand.

In the midst of a cliche of fire and brimstone, and as far as her eyes could see, this part of Hell was a little different from the others which she had been witness to in the past. While much of Hell had changed with the modern age, of introducing psychological torture and inducing metaphysical pain upon its new residents to accommodate to changing philosophies and fears, this area bore witness to the most classic cases of torture.

Zatanna tried not to let her eyes linger in any one area too long, viewing with as much detachment as possible. Bodies were being bent into unnatural shapes, before being torn apart with hideous glee lighting up the torturers' faces. Blood and sinew and bile dotted the landscape, rivers of sewage and masses of limbs. The screams, the laughter, the stench all assaulted her senses with renewed vigor, all mingled together in a violent cacophony of displeasure.

And suddenly, she longed once more for the mind games that were played upon the potentially repentant, as she recalled John calling them.

Here, in this particular Hell, there was no hope for redemption, no prayer of peace. There was only slaughter. And here, Zatanna wished once more she could take it all away again.

There were many different kinds of Hell, of course. But being subjected to witness one so violent, seemed nearly as cruel a fate as to endure it for oneself.

Turning away, she focused attention once more on her daughter.

The magician reminded herself, though Raven did not look it at the moment, and while she possibly didn't feel it, she was much older. She was wiser, stronger than the five year old that had tumbled down to this land of depravity. And now more than ever, she needed reminding of that.

"Nevar, esaelp, llet em uoy era ereh," she softly commanded, whispered more like a wish than a request.

Her eyes flashed with momentary awareness, that emotionally turbulent amethyst clearing back into rich navy. But it was blinked away just as quickly, as her eyes fluttered and she shook her head.

"M- mommy?" she looked around hesitantly as she called out, eyes frantic and welling with tears now. "Where- Is there someone...?"

Recognizing that the girl's presence came back even stronger in that moment, Zatanna sighed in relief. She may have been reliving this hell all over again, but she wasn't lost in the memory. Not yet. Not completely.

"Raven, I hope- no, I know you can hear me. I promise I'm not going to leave you. Ouy t'now eb enola ni siht."

A promise, which in this case, acts almost as a self-imposed curse. But then again, all promises, even without added magic, were cursed in one way or another.

Outside of their periphery, as Raven continued to call out for help that wasn't coming, red hot tendrils of fire morphed seamlessly into something resembling hands. They slinked along the ground until they reached the duo, and purposely started to wrap around the girl, unnoticed as she sat transfixed once more by the torment around her.

Zatanna tried calling out to the girl, to warn her of the impending danger around her now. But her cries fell on deaf ears, as those hands tightened around the demoness' small body and dragged her through a small gap that opened up in the ground behind her.

And though she knew it was useless, Zatanna found herself reaching again for Raven's small, outstretched hand, ghosting through it again as she tumbled down after her daughter, and into the darkness.

Only for that same pitch to turn alarmingly bright, when she opened her eyes against a completely different scene before her.

An officespace that could have belonged to any number of buildings in any number of cities, were it not for the completely blank white walls that seemed to stretch infinitely around them in all directions. Painfully white tiles dotted the ceiling and floor, which provided little context to the dimensions of the space. A single doorway, leading to a busy hallway provided no help whatsoever, and she could feel as it only served to raise Raven's level of anxiety as people flitted angrily through.

"Never mind, this is the Bad Place," Zatanna muttered to herself. She certainly wasn't suddenly longing again for the more straightforward torture that had played before them only moments ago, but she could sense the awful anxiety on all sides that must have absolutely assaulted the girl's senses.

Here inside this room, if it could truly be called that, a woman sat at a completely mundane desk with a few rows of filing cabinets behind her. She leaned far back in her chair, feet propped atop the desk with an air of disinterest as she loosely played with curling brown locks and flipped through files.

What Zee finally realized could only be human souls continued fluttering in and out of the adjacent hallway, more than a few tearing out their hair or mumbling under breath about missing forms or incorrectly filed documents. The woman paid them no mind as they only appeared to grow more frantic with each passing moment. One sat at a desk in the room across that hall, sobbing hysterically as she tried to white-out a page over and over, only for increasingly glittery ink to reappear at the top just as she finished with the bottom half. Another appeared to be unsuccessfully trying to deliver coffee, only for it to spill anew upon himself or others with each new cup.

They all disappeared as the woman at the desk flicked her wrist for the door to shut. More than she appeared to be. Likely a demon, then.

With that subtle click of the door, the room became unnaturally quiet, only Raven's quick breaths filling the space. The papers at the demon's desk rustled a bit as she switched between them, addressing, but not looking at, the girl.

"Hmm, let's see what we have here. A Daughter of Darkness. Pride of Lucifer. Spawn of Tr-"

"Who are you?" Raven asked, evidently working up enough courage to address the demon head-on.

"The name's Rybizen. You can call me Ry, cousin."

"Cousin?"

Zee could feel an odd calm that filled the room. The faintest hints of hope tickled at the periphery, and she found herself latching onto that feeling like a life preserver. Unfamiliar familiarity, the small kind of reprieve that must have saved Raven's sanity during this first trip down.

"Sure. Cousins," Ry said decidedly as she kicked her feet off of the desk and shuffled the papers back together, placing them back into the file as she continued, "We're all related here through some kind of convoluted fork-up in our family tree."

She flung open a drawer to the cabinet behind her then, letting it drift endlessly open for a second or two before stopping it. Raven's head swiveled comically to follow it's journey into an impossible eternity behind her, before watching it retract back into the cabinet at twice the speed it had been thrown open with.

"This whole forking place is a Looney Toon, I swear," Zee muttered again, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest before turning attention back to the scene before her.

"There's no precedent for it, but it seems your father- or perhaps one of your brothers even, it's too close to tell- Someone wanted an audience with you." She rested her elbows at the desk, steepling her hands in thought as she looked over the girl for the first time. Raven stiffened in her chair at the sight of her glowing eyes, like dull coals that sat smoldering as they took in every part of the child before her.

Unlike how Zatanna remembered she would come to look by the end of her journey, at this moment the girl looked fairly well kempt. Her clothes were only partially singed from their descent before, and her bob was only slightly frizzed, nothing at all like the mess she recalled Constantine claimed she had looked upon his accidental summons.

But then again, the occultist was known to exaggerate when it suited his needs.

"And given your status, halfling," Ry said, interrupting the magician's nostalgia, "I don't think you're in much of a position to deny them."

"I... I do not-"

Just as the girl tried to protest, the phone rang on Rybizen's desk, cutting her off. The demon listened carefully to the voice on the other line, eyes shifting back between the girl and her papers, humming agreements or dissents before finally hanging up the line.

"Speak of the devils," the demon smiled wryly before adding under her breath, "-Always did wanna say that, with some irony- That was your brother. And you, my dear, will be seeing him right now."

Before Raven could even open her mouth to protest again, Ry flicked her wrist another time, sending the girl's chair tumbling backward, and the girl herself was flung back into yet another opening, a pitch black hole opening inside of those blinding white tiles that dotted the floor. And Zatanna found herself once again, tumbling after the child as she screamed for help once more.

...

It was when they started to approach the six hour mark, that Constantine started to seriously consider calling in back up. But the question remained, who could possibly be qualified for this sort of ordeal? Zatanna was already the best mortal equipped to handle such a task. Raven had been slowly inching towards surpassing them for quite some time now.

No, there'd be no trying to plead uselessly with Fate. No calling in the Dark for aid that could simply not be adequately provided. And no matter how much John wished he could have followed them in, he knew it wouldn't do to harbor any regrets now.

Not when, as he check both of their pulses, he began to worry as it registered almost too faintly.

But perhaps, in times like this, he could count on at least one old fling to help him out of his growing worry.

Though he knew Zatanna never thought much of the Nightmare Nurse, he was sure Raven wouldn't mind a little help from Auntie Asa.

He set right to work, making the necessary call for backup.

...

Raven remembered it all now. Those days of mundanity that lead up to this awful and unexpected field trip into Hell. The voices of her father and brothers, like tiny, nagging whispers that encouraged her to gather the right ingredients, and coached her through the right incantations. That nagging sense in other parts of her head that told her curiosity would better be satisfied by simply asking Arella or Azar these questions that plagued at her psyche.

All of that instantaneous regret when she realized that all she really seemed to do was fall from one trap into another with each passing moment in this horrible place.

Yes, she remembered thinking in those moments, about being all of five years old and falling so much. Of how little she had been aware of her sense of self and that first fleeting acceptance and understanding, that her actions truly did have consequences. And in between that, wondering exactly who and what these voices were to bring her here to such a horrid place.

She wondered why, despite all of the suffering she could feel around her, why it tickled such a delighted part of her soul to witness it. As if it understood the justice that was being carried through, that most of that suffering around her was earned, and right, despite how horrible it all was.

And she remembered how much that scared her, more than anything she actually saw as it unfolded before her.

And now, at this particular crossroads, she remembered meeting with that first brother. His name spoken too quickly for her to catch onto, especially given the whiplash that occurred as her descent was brought to an abrupt halt, and she was distracted by the alarming change in appearance.

While the demon, her 'Cousin Ry', before had chosen a more human-like form to blend more easily with her human subjects, evidently this brother had done away with even the slightest pretense of offering these souls the uncanny and disquieting comfort. A grotesque cliche of gnarled horns adorned his head, all crimson red skin and glowing yellow eyes that kept Raven's full attention as he prattled on about their siblings 'joining them soon'.

"A shame that Father stayed behind to lay waste to that insipid dimension. It's expanses would hardly cover half of an average hospitable planet! It'd be a waste to send even a meager army of ghouls to torment those inhabitants, much less a demon like him!" he snickered to himself as he prattled on, circling around the girl like a tiger eyeing its prey. "But who am I, to question the ways of Trigon the Terrible!? I suppose, it may be understandable, given the more... personal reasons for such an attack-"

"You... you mean Azarath," Raven gasped in realization. "You mean Azarath is-"

"Being utterly laid to waste? Yes. You would do well to keep up, Sister-"

"Oh, don't torment her so, Brother dearest," a new voice called from just beyond the ring, "The whole reason he was able to steal her away was because she's so painfully young and dull. You would do well to remember that."

"Oh, Belial the Bully! Here to put all the Sons of Trigon in their place!" another chimed in.

A sea of disturbingly familiar voices soon flooded the space, each one raised higher, louder over the rest at they tried to get in the last word. Some of the devils started shoving one another, trying to take what each perceived to be the best thrones in the circle, and growing more violent in their scramble with each push and accompanying threat.

In her minds eye, in a memory within this memory, more and more clearly those last fleeting moments on Azarath before she had been pulled away began to take shape.

She remembered a form rising from the runes she had drawn, a flash as acolytes closest to her were vaporized. That awful gleeful grin that greeted her in welcome.

As those monsters continued their arguing and as their anger fed more and more deeply into her own fragile state, she could feel her emotions becoming undone again.

She could feel that demon lurking just beneath the surface. After being so tightly kept under wraps, so few years of learning to keep it at bay, yet so much training being undone in one awful, horrible moment of weakness.

"Stop. I- I want to remember something else," she whispered, shutting her eyes tightly. A momentary awareness, that this wasn't her reality, wasn't her present. "I want my- my mom. I need-"

She paused. Because it certainly wasn't Arella who sprung to her mind then.

Sapphire eyes that shone brighter than the San Francisco bay. Straight black hair, that always absolutely glittered in the magic of stage lights. A warm smile that could melt the iciest of Gotham winters. And a voice, a strong mezzo-soprano that could cut through the worst of nightmares, that was already a verse through an all too familiar tune.

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night," it continued faintly, voice low and cracking. Raven finally felt its owner's presence reached hesitantly forward to touch the girl's shoulder again. And though the hesitancy she could feel from it now, told her that it should have ghosted right through her, she was pleasantly surprised to feel the warmth of a loving hand against her skin. And the voice continued the verse, her voice much stronger at the reassurance.

"Take these sunken eyes and learn to see."

She leaned forward to embrace the girl, this memory of her, fully into a hug now. The possibility that disturbing the memory would cause untold damage be damned, she knew this was what her daughter needed of her right now.

"All your life..."

As Raven felt her mother's love and concern, she heard her own small voice join the magician's. The song, a lullaby that had carried them both together through so many a tumultuous night. Their voices lilted together in time, in familiar harmony, alto and soprano. Magic and emotion. Mother and daughter.

"You were only waiting for this moment to be free."

As Raven's arms wrapped around the sorceress' body, and held her tight with impossible strength. She knew she had her mother back. And she was grateful all at once for her presence.

"I tried to tell you, Blackbird," Zatanna laughed with tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, "I tried to tell you, that you're not alone here."

"I know. But..." Raven brushed away the tears that were starting to form in her own eyes, quick and careless. "But there's still so much I'm missing here. Azarath's last moments, and my brothers and-"

"And we can get to that in time," Zee reassured her, gripping the young woman tight in her arms and pressing a kiss to her crown, "But please, Raven. Even you have limits. Let's revisit something pleasant. And then-" she turned the empath by her shoulders to look at her sternly, "Then we dive into these memories together, capisce?"

The young mage only laughed, squeezing and opening her eyes again to clear the memory before them. And once again, the world around them shifted.

"I believe you are already familiar with this gallery of moments?" Raven chimed, her tone lightly accusatory as their feet touched back down onto the floor of a Wayne Manor hallway. "Go ahead and take your pick, Mom."

...

"They've been under for ten bloody hours, Asa. I really don't know what else I can tell you," Constantine sighed, rubbing a frustrated hand over his face.

"Their auras are strong, their pulses are fine-" she started, an air of boredom and annoyance slipped through her voice that John was more than privy to.

"It's too long to be so lost like that!"

"And I'm telling you, they're fine. Gods knows, you've spent longer in much worse magical comas. Be grateful that this was a voluntarily induced one, instead of some awful accident-"

"That's the thing. I'm worried they may have run into an accident in there and-"

"Do you want my formal diagnosis, John? Or do you just want an excuse to insert yourself where you don't belong?" the Nightmare Nurse said, crossing her arms over her chest with some finality, and stance changing from bored, to something just subtly more aggressive.

This made the exorcist finally pause, and really consider where his concern was coming from.

"I just... I want to know my daughter is okay. I want Zee to be safe, and," he sighed, "Asa, please. Just give me something I can do, instead of sitting here with twiddling my thumbs and praying for a miracle."

"Didn't know you were the praying type," she said snidely. His pleading look was all that was needed before she opened her mouth to make any more comments. She cleared her throat before changing gears and taking a seat on his couch. "Why don't you fix me something to drink? And I can tell you all about the drama that you've been missing out between all of the creatures of the night that you three have been neglecting."

"Y'know," he chuckled lowly, putting his hands in the air in relent, "That might just be exactly the distraction I need." He moved leisurely to the kitchen, trying to let an internal debate of whether caffeine or alcohol would be best appreciated drown out the worry that continued to nag at the edges of his thoughts.

Zatanna and Raven's bodies were safe. Their minds, as far as they could tell, were in tact. What was supposed to be a simple procedure was taking longer than expected, but all appeared well.

Well enough, for the moment.

#zatanna zatara #rachel roth #john constantine #dc bombshells #au: magic foster family #retrieval #randywritesfic #long post #<-hopefully cuts n such work for anyone on any of the sites but WE ALL KNOW HOWTUMBLR IS #dear sweet baby jesus i hope this tags alright tho

9 notes · View notes

unofficialperson · 2 years

Text

Introduce an OC who is not quite human:

All the (important) nonhumans in BTG.

-cassius. Human cursed with vampirism. Fellow guild member and companion. Junior member of the order, so ranked above you/player character, but ranked below ioannes. Came from the (human) empire, prior to the guild.

-ioannes. (Moon) elf. Fellow guild member. He is the second highest ranking member, right below the guildmaster. While he does, arguably, more work than other members, he also takes extended stays at the guild to recover. Aside from quests, he handles other tasks that the guild master assigns him to.

-larkin. (Moon elf). Companion. (Forcibly) left home to undertake his Rite of Passage, which is to prove your worth and value within the society. (Ioannes decidedly never returned on his). Fairly young. Struggles with controlling his magic, still.

-adia. (Sun) elf. Companion. Had an encounter with The Depraved and has since been independently monster hunting. I actually need to update her design lol.

-theres another guild member that's also a sun elf but we uhhhh have to change her name. And we need to rewrite her backstory because we broke it again after changing sweetwater lol.

-ava and avo, are twins, dwarf. Fellow guild members, of low rank, and frequently work as a team if possible. Both were exiled, went about as mercenaries before the guild.

-The Librarian who does not have a name because we barely work on him LMAO is undead.

-all the major antagonists are Cursed Beings, Corrupted, or Depraved .

-caro, dwarf, from the inner city, but has traveled a bit. Companion. Some flavor of mercenary.

-ermolai, dragon cursed. Companion. I uhm uh we don't have much for him, tbh. Like he's in dire need of some development but we are stuck on pithering about this or that, so whatever. Hell shake out right eventually, I'm not concerned .

#hey jeremiah #btg nonsense

0 notes

lerrryyyyy · 7 years

Text

Summary: Jaehwan's prank doesn't quite turn out the way he wanted it to.

Pairing: Cha Hakyeon x Jung Taekwoon x Lee Hongbin (OT3 NeoBin); implied Lee Jaehwan x Han Sanghyuk

Rating: T

Words: 1300+

A/N: I actually wrote this and posted it on AO3 a long time ago but I just realised now that I didn’t post it here lmao... Just a short thing kind of based on a vine a watched before. Also an excuse to write NeoBin haha

★★★

There is the sound of fiddling along with blurred colors before the camera is finally righted and a face comes onto the screen. The man grins widely and starts wiggling two of his fingers beside his cheek. “Bbuing bbuing~ bbuing bbuing~ Here we are again for another pranking session with Kenken and Hyoggi~!” He blows a kiss, and then follows it with a wink.

“Unfortunately, Hyukkie won’t be here today. He has a gross test to go to and had to skip on this episode.” The sentence is ended with a pout, but the grin comes back just as quickly. “But we’re gonna video this awesome-ly so he can have something to watch later hihi~ Don’t worry Hyukkie, I got you! Leave this to your beloved Jaehwannie~”

There’s more fumbling and the screen goes dark as his hand covers the lens. “Omo omo omo! How do you adju— ah! There we go!” The man comes back on screen. This time, he is further away from the camera and more of the background is seen as he steadies his hold on the monopod. “I’m back~ Sorry ‘bout that! Not used to this GoPro yet. My precious baby brother got it for me from Japan~ I’m gonna show him on camera next time so you guys can see how awesome our genes are. But he’s not allowed to date so, before anyone asks, nope, no one touches my cute baby brother. I’m cuter than him though! Right Hyukkie? You better say yes when you see this!” His mock-indignant look is then replaced by a smile. “Anyway, notice how everything’s clearer now? See, see?” He then twirls around to show his point – exposing the rather cozy living room he is in.

“Do you guys recognize the place? Yes, that’s right, it’s the infamous HakWoon apartment~” Jaehwan giggles as he pulls the camera nearer and whispers theatrically. “And that means this is another segment of HakWoon pranking session, hihi!”

Jaehwan distances the camera from his face while continuing to talk. “So you probably know how this is gonna go – but just in case it’s not Hyukkie or me watching this – which would be really bad coz Taekwoon-hyung said he was gonna kill me if we posted these segments on our Youtube channel – I’ll tell you how this is gonna go. Because I’m an awesome professional even if no one else is going to see my genius.” He lets out a dramatic sigh at that, looking genuinely disappointed at the prospect of not being able to share his ‘genius’. “Taekwoon-hyung’s a big sourpuss, but don’t tell him I told you that. Anyway, as you all know – or maybe don’t know – Hakyeon-hyung and Taekwoon-hyung are the most hilarious victi—err, prank recipients that have ever graced our channel. They’re so easy to prank, I swear! Go check out our other videos of them. They’re seriously funny! You gotta see Hakyeon-hyung’s high-pitched scream, haha! Anyway, they’ve been dating for, like, three months now – finally! Am I right?” Jaehwan almost drops the camera as he throws his hands up in the air to punctuate his sentence. He curses and fumbles with the device again.

“But yeah, they’re dating now but they’re really quiet about their relationship. It’s kinda a let-down coz Yeonnie-hyung used to tell me about these things!” Jaehwan pouts again and points an accusing finger at the camera. “Hyungie, this is your fault! I’m really nosy you know – pun intended. Wow, I’m hilarious!” He says with a laugh. “So, okay basically this segment happened so we can catch what kind of naughty-naughty they’ve been up to behind closed doors.” Jaehwan gives the camera a grin not unlike the memes used for making innuendos – with his head tilted downwards and eyes looking upwards at the lens.

“Don’t worry, this is completely PG! We’re just going to catch the morning after, hehe.” Jaehwan starts walking backwards through the living room, making quick glances behind him while still narrating to the camera. “So far, we’ve found out that they use handcuffs and Yeonnie-hyung wears wigs sometimes.” Jaehwan snickers. “Ahhh, these hyungs are kinky, I love it!” he finally stops in front of a door and lowers his voice. “What kind of depravity do you think we’re gonna see today?” He nears his face towards the camera again and whispers. “Are you ready?”

After a moment of suspenseful silence, Jaehwan’s hand closes around the door knob. He looks at the camera and silently counts down – his grin growing wider as he mouths the number ‘one’.

Jaehwan promptly throws the door open with a loud bang and lets out a high-pitched screech.

“What the he--” Thud. “JAEHWAN!”

“Wakey-wakey, lovebirds! Time to meet the beautiful sunshine~” Jaehwan loudly announces while flicking the light-switch on. The darkness that had met the camera before disappears and reveals clothes scattered across the carpeted floor, a lamp shade fallen off the nightstand, bags haphazardly thrown to the sides, and a very large bed with a disgruntled man glaring at Jaehwan – clearly naked underneath the comforter if the amount of tan skin displayed is any indication. There is a pale hand that rests just above the man’s waist, which just confirmed that he indeed wasn’t alone.

“Morning Hakyeon-hyung? How was last night?” Jaehwan greets, as if he isn’t at the receiving end of a very displeased scowl. “Looks like you had a rough one with Taekwoon-hyung. Do I need to get a wheelchair?”

“Is this another prank? Ugh, give me a good reason why I shouldn’t sic Taekwoon at you right now.” The man – Hakyeon – groans while rubbing his hand against his cheek in what appears to be exasperation. His voice is still slightly laced with sleep, but his words are clear.

Jaehwan didn’t seem to be bothered though as he walks further into the room. “Coz he’s still asleep and he doesn’t like getting up early.”

“I can get up to kill you.” Is the muffled response from behind Hakyeon. The threatening guy steadies himself on his elbows as he glares over Hakyeon’s shoulder – his sharp eyes ready to kill.

Jaehwan only grins. “Good morning to you too, Taekwoonie-hyung~” He replies cheerfully. “So what kind of nasty-nasty did you do this time? There’s no handcuffs anywhere, or a wig on Yeonnie-hyung. Spanking? BDSM? Oooh, pet-kink? C’mon share share~ The audience wants to know~”

“Jaehwan I swear to god--”

“Awww, don’t be shy. What is it? Aside from it being intense coz we kinda got that from the state of your room. It wasn’t this messy the last time. Tell me tell me!”

“Go away Jae—”

“What’s going on?” An almost inaudible voice cuts in.

Everyone seems to freeze in place at the new voice that definitely did not come from Jaehwan, Hakyeon, or Taekwoon.

The sheets between Hakyeon and Taekwoon move and another tuft of hair starts to emerge from underneath the covers. Jaehwan’s eyes widen and his jaw drops as another person sits up – bare as the other two on his either side. “What time is it?” He asks, appearing to be unaware of how three people were staring at him – one in shock and the other two looking worried.

The silence stretches before it’s broken by an incredulous yell of “HONGBIN?!” and the said man looks up, his eyes wide in surprise.

The camera falls on the floor, only showing the carpet, the scattered clothes, and Jaehwan’s shoes that marches towards the bed.

“H-hyung?!”

“WHAT IS THIS?!”

“Let us explain--”

“YOU DEFILED HONGBIN!?”

“Hyung, can we jus-”

“GET OUT OF THAT BED RIGHT NOW! HOW COULD YOU STAY NAKED BETWEEN NAKED MEN WITH ME PRESENT?!”

“You aren’t supposed to barge into—“

“NO EXCUSES! OUT! OUT!”

“Jaehwan, calm down.”

“YOU TOOK HIS CHASTITY I’M NOT GONNA CALM D— CHA HAKYEON, JUNG TAEKWOON, GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY BABY BROTHER!”

#vixx #neobin #leobin #neo #chabin #nbin #hyuken #vixx fanfic #fanfics

14 notes · View notes

oceangl1tter · 5 years

Text

unpopular opinion: mac and cheese is only proper if you eat it with a small tiny spoon that can only fit one mac at a time

derivations://

I don't really know what's the point of writing all of these poems besides wanting a personal comfort and having an easy way out. Or is it an easy way in? I can't seem to stave myself off of it even though there's no return profit. My ability of spacing out lines in a purposeful way is really not something I could show to a potential employer or anyone around me. Or maybe that's just the South Node appeal calling to me. I want to find a way that could commercialize what I write. Package it in plastic wrap and present it to customers in an aesthetically pleasing way. But shouldn't the words be enough?

There are so many things I want to learn but it still feels like I'm going nowhere. The website I try to code looks like graphic design is my passion but unironic. I'm only 15% into the course and we've only slightly cracked into front-end development—(the visuals, so not back-end/ server-side coding). The process is like puzzle pieces that you mix and match together or a recipe book (and you have all the ingredients) but anything I make ends up freezing into a catatonic mess blaring with random RGB hexcodes I subbed in. I assembled an IKEA drawer with my housemates and ____ a few days ago and sometimes.. things just don't fit until they're in someone else's hands; I was talked down like a baby about finding "holes that fit into other holes" and while mentally infuriated, my fingers fumbled around like I was dealing with a Rubix cube blindfolded or something—but really, I'm just allergic to Swedish design. In a laughter I tell everyone in the room that I thought and asked myself what language Swedish people speak; at least it could boost my alibi of just being dumb and not dumbfounded by Swedes.

The things that I'm excited for deflate my sense of purpose but they really do send a rush of discovery. I turn to Reddit to scratch these itches. Watching people's motion reels are both a blessing and curse. I look at aesthetically pleasing sketchbooks that got people into the dream _______ I never knew people could have. I unfurl my optimism yarn until there's none left. Scatter small pains. I recognize that I just don't have the ardor and would rather be hidden in observations than cast my rod; but I do try! But I know when it's not enough—when it's not right. I think I should make things pretty until I realize that unpretty things are perfectly fine. I have ideas, that's all. Am I any different from my dad? Art for the sake of beauty has a single purpose of gratifying. My first draft for visitation was devoid of any real emotional labor and just caked on a cold stew of edgy, depraved imagery. It's fucking empty! How is that any different from my art/motion design things that I follow along by way of YouTube tutorials? Yeah I make a cool thing. Why do I give a fuck about this cool thing if it has a temporary purpose of gratification. Slightly pretentious. I also talk as if I'm fucking Picasso. Just kidding, Picasso would not fuck me. I also would not want to fuck Picasso. Actually, I don't know what I want. Maybe I just want to git gud. Not to denounce any of the great, amazing creations I see that take hours/days/weeks/months/years to do. I just don't know if I'll ever be satisfied. Also, I'm probably just jealous doing all this thinking in a glass room. I needa just get out. I needa be okay with starting out. I need to be okay with being bad with things I find important to me. I need to be less careless with things I don't think I'll be good at. Maybe I should apply this to everything else in my life.

When I was enrolled in Abacus class a millennium ago, we transitioned from the physical Eastern calculators to paper print-outs the size of half of an index card. The transition was to ease into calculating with simply a mental image of the abacus with the help of muscle memory. We would stand in a line, all of us next to eachother, and we'd hold up the card in front of us as equations flashed on a light blue screen. Crying because I just couldn't get it. Held that card up, my arm tired and shit, with nothing to wipe ‘cept that paper sheet. The instructor pulls me aside and I tell her that I can't do it. I don't think I've changed since then. At least I can calculate groceries now in my head though.

hear me out://

A few days after I find out, I'm having a lil tear session in the dorm showers. If the shower drain could talk, its narration would probably go like this:

day 273

-she hasn't even turned on the shower on yet and she's already crying lmao

I don't know why it hits me. One moment I feel fine and the next I feel a bit of a bitter twinge. Maybe of how much I had poured my heart out in ways I hadn't before; perhaps as an atonement. My impulsive Xylitol javelin-throwing had other reasons. Perhaps an affirmation that everyone I had ever ______ _______ . In hindsight, it didn't turn out that way but who else would listen so ardently? so selflessly? pay to be the audience? even if it was divisive? sit here past twilight in an empty building? and silently watch a tantrum unfold? I've written and shelved, written and shelved. Some things have a passtime. Other things I wouldn't want to return to. Now, it's obviously different. The occupations of the mind are different. There are no words left unsaid but there are gestures I wish I had done better, I could still do better but I deem too late. I don't try to find replacements because there can be none. —- E And L Five Ps: Final reflection://

St.Vincent's crooning in her Strange Mercy album takes me through Winter. I "steal" a concept from her 6th track, Strange Mercy, that explores the concept of how it can be "cruel to be kind". It's the perfect tenderness I need to raise frailty back to life and to properly transition the deadness of Winter to a more sweet and dewy fragility, one more aligned with Spring. For my first revised poem, I returned back to ‘visitation’ and tried to establish the poem’s center of gravity. After re-reading it again, I realized that many of the images I wrote, though they were descriptive, masked the poem from progressing in its work beyond creating a sense of atmosphere. I knew that the poem needed a spine to hang its imagery flesh off of but I did not know where to start, so I went back to my critiques and looked for lines people read as most interesting.

The first line "in winter, the sound of your skin is screaming" was the one that stuck out the most, so I took that line on its own and brainstormed on how I could ground my poem with this line. I asked myself questions like: Why winter? Whose skin is screaming? Screaming in what way? Why the sound of skin? I initially had chosen winter because I wanted to fit it into the theme of frailty, decay, and death but nothing had really transformed from beginning to end because of it.

The original poem would still stand on its own even if I took out the season. I found that it would be more interesting to use negation and have it play a more integral role, so I changed the season to Spring. This created many doorways. From the poetry collection I read, Half-Lit Houses, I noticed that the poet describes the “outside” world before zooming in and I compared it to my poem, where I start off already “zoomed-in”/magnified and the reader is thrown in with no context. Every line that follows is then trapped in having to connect to it, too magnified for the reader to navigate the bigger picture. With this in mind, I did not stick with the original format of this line opening the poem-which took some time to actually do because I really wanted to force it to be for its unsettling effect.

Another critique I got was what work the title was doing and how it connected to the rest of the poem. I’m not sure why I thought of visitation the first time I wrote this poem but after changing the poem’s descriptors from subtle decay (“quiet unmoving/and breathing”, “patient’s kneading”, “a carcass”) to more physically present feelings (“Lacerate”, “savory blood cracked”, “wailing at Hospital Walls”), the poem was no longer the ghost it originally was and instead birthed a more visceral feeling, a beast, alive and begging to be heard. I wanted to mask the setting up until the end which would make that final connection of visitation hours at a hospital. Had the scene been introduced earlier in the poem, I think it would be more of a dark cloud looming than the delicate freshness I was trying to go for—the kindness of the grass and the cruelty of its blades. The setting in the first few stanzas is left open and how it moves to the hospital location is not explicitly clear but it's the drifting airiness I like that are reminiscent of Spring days and walks surrounded by rustling, blooming trees.

This poem came out rather naturally after figuring out its premise but I made several alterations to the movement of the words just before the last stanza. I knew it would be revolving in an arc, circular as if blown away only to return back, and I wanted something that would encourage an analogous reading—cognizant of the way ones eyes would read it when scanning.

The poem itself pulls from different memories; some I was not there for, and others I noticed. My favorite line of the poem is: "He stands there."

circadian rhythm://

I knew, relatively, the parallelism but I didn't know exacts until my dad told me to scan his medical reports for a checkup. There's a likeness of timelines. The event I pulled from happened on 1/1/2001, 9 months after my birth.

Coincidentally (or not), it's winter.

#mystuff

0 notes