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@onemoretroubledsoul on Tumblr

@onemoretroubledsoul / onemoretroubledsoul.tumblr.com

Natty (they/them) queer, posting Cherik, 9-1-1, FOB, DC and other stuff, Batlantern obsessed, icon+header+sidebar::@htnks2
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Content Label: Mature: Sexual Themes
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meli-writes

vampire who tried to keep a muzzled, leashed werewolf as a trophy. and now that werewolf has torn said muzzle off and is pinning her to the floor, the long claw of the full moon reaching through the great arched windows her castle.

🌕: "thought you could control me, didn't you?" 🩸: "no no no, i'm sorry okay i—" 🌕: "ah ah! you thought you could. so, admit it!" 🩸: "i-i thought i could control you, like a thrall." 🌕: "and now?" 🩸: "i can't. i understand now." 🌕: "and what does that mean i can do to you?" 🩸: "w-what? i-i don't know i--" 🌕 lurches down, bared not fangs but a whole maw over her moonlit throat. 🩸: "control me! you can control me. m-muzzle me. and leash me. a-and collar me in silver. p-please." 🌕: "good. we'll start there."

a time later, the vampire a maid in her own castle, sneering at the scent of wet dog that settles over ancient, scratched-up furniture. the werewolf crooning over the pet in her lap, silver collared.

🌕: "it's better when i'm head of the pack, isn't it?" 🩸 nodding fearfully. 🌕 reaching her hand down, around the girl's throat. 🩸 struggling for just a moment, the silver at her neck aching weakness into her. 🌕: "don't worry, you'll learn not to fear my touch. i play with my food it's true, but i play with toys just the same." 🩸: "which am i?" 🌕 idly twirling the girl's hair: "hmm?"

it takes a week for the werewolf to find it, a 1959 'pink princess' telephone -- somehow it still calls. the vampire doesn't do more than dust and sulk, staring at ruined things. eventually, handset put down the werewolf finds her still... staring -- shivering out of her reverie when she takes her hand.

🌕: "little pup, what's it you're upset about?" 🩸 tries to bury her face away. 🌕: "is it that i made you mine? that i took your life away?" 🩸 nodding very slightly at the second, and freezing as a hand curls under her chin. 🌕: "you think that's how i felt when you took me?" 🩸 bursting into tears, running cold down her cheeks. 🌕: "such selfish beasts, aren't you little bloodsuckers?" 🩸: "y-yes, just selfish. need to be taught better, need to--" 🌕: "shh, don't apologise -- just cry for now." 🩸: "i-i'm cold. i haven't fed but it's--" 🌕 running a claw over the pad of her thumb, she slips the small wound into the vampire's mouth, begetting silence then suckling. 🌕: "there there, i think you've earned that. and i'm sure when my pack gets here they can share too. we do so love to share."

the wretched scent-spall of unwashed wolves and cheap beer drools down corridors, to the soft bed she's been commanded to remain in. not even a leash needed, because she wouldn't dare intrude upon her master's reunion -- or masters' perhaps. and when beautiful iron follows it, down to her hand slipping under the sheets--

🌕: "oh pup, what's this?" 🩸: "ah! master i-i thought you were still occupied. s-sorry, has your reception ended?" 🌕 running a claw down her forelimb: "not quite." 🩸: "i-is there anything i might--" 🌕: "were you fucking yourself, pup?" 🩸 the blood runs to a point on the wolf's claw, she chokes. 🩸: "yes. master." 🌕: "did you want my help?"

the halls are silent, or the blood has swallowed her so much she cannot hear. the werewolf's claw rests on the button of her breeches. even the bed silks must be older than master, more precious. but she wouldn't be gentle to them, or--

🩸: "yes." ... 🌕: "and would you like the pack to help?"

the evening falls, as the collar thuds to the floor. the vampire shudders awake, out of the hands that rest at her neck, till she curls up on another side of the massive bed. clutching at unbroken silks, she feels the thousand gentle scratches on her fade away as curse emboldens and her strength returns.

🌕: "you sleep well? seemed a little tired after last morning." 🩸 feeling the tender skin at her neck: "without the silver, on a moonless night, i'm--" 🌕: "feeling better?" 🩸: "and i could--" 🌕: "and you won't -- i hope. that maybe we've come to an... understanding? hell, think the pack'd call that initiation." 🩸 brow crossing deeper than bloodhungry bite wounds. 🌕: "why not come back here, and think on it first, pup?" 🩸 crawling, with a small growl in her gullet as hands pour through her ruined curls. 🌕: "i'm a carpenter y'know, i can fix what i broke. includes you." 🩸: "hrrr... fine."
Content Label: Mature

Sexual themes

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meli-writes

rebel who's had her fingers stuck in the mouth of the mech pilot she's captured for hours, because the hound is conditioned to bite down on the cyanide capsule in its tooth but not on a handler. so now it's just mumbling softly around the impromptu gag, while they both wait for someone to come sedate it.

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mollyjames
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sebastian vettel in 2019 experiencing like 1/10th of what he put mark webber through and immediately gaining the full spectrum of human emotion and empathy like a toddler finally grasping object permanence is the funniest thing abt him. before that my man was so unbothered he straight up didnt realize when he was acting like a dick bc the concept of struggling was so alien to him. but suddenly charles leclerc out-qualifies him a handful of times and he’s waking up in the middle of the night asking people “did you know about homophobia???” “have you heard what’s happening to the bees????”

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“oh no we need to practice for our fake dating” is the funniest trope to me cause like. there are so many people who force themselves into a shitty relationship they hate just because of amatonormatiivity that it’s an ingrained part of popular culture to joke about hating your partner.

which is to say, oh my god you dont need to hold hands and go on fake dates, you don’t even need to agree on a single detail of your cover story beforehand. you can literally stand 6 feet apart at all times and look profoundly uncomfortable and all anyone will think is “yikes™. not my problem”

actually people should address this in fanfic more because “i know we could half-ass it, but i would never fake mistreat my fake husband, how dare you” is absolutely delightful

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thekijs

New trope: fake dating for spite.

“Look, my only goal here is for our pretend relationship to be demonstrably healthier than Aunt Rita and Uncle Carl’s fifteen year, three child marriage - which means the bar is so low we probably can’t fuck this up”

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aurorawest

preserving @river-gale’s tags for posterity because yes. yes. this is it. you get it.

“oh no we need to practice for our fake dating” is the funniest trope to me cause like. there are so many people who force themselves into a shitty relationship they hate just because of amatonormatiivity that it’s an ingrained part of popular culture to joke about hating your partner. which is to say, oh my god you dont need to hold hands and go on fake dates, you don’t even need to agree on a single detail of your cover story beforehand.

dragons

DRAGONS LOCATED

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felignis

[image id: tags by tumblr user river-gale reading the following: #i think this is honestly the backbone of the appeal of the fake dating trope (i am a fake dating enjoyer) #the reason why the characters put so much unnecessary effort into the fake relationship tells you so much about them

#does the idea of being someone who doesn’t really care about their lover disturb them? do they secretly care a lot about their fake partner #are they a person who needs to do everything well and with care even when it’s stupid? do they just commit REALLY hard to the bit? etc etc

#ADDITIONALLY another main appeal of faking dating is the characters going ‘wow this is really easy and working really well for us’ #‘our fake relationship looks (and functionally is???) better than uncle carl’s 15y marriage’ #‘which probably means nothing. i will not think about this in depth for another three chapters.’

#you get it. you understand. i am sorry for the in-the-tags fake dating manifesto.

end id]

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