#It's personal when you fight Pixy

[the-blind-geisha]

Artist: Pixie_Yuni

I grabbed the heavy WMed and low rez version because I don't trust the net. =P

But when I tell you that I cried... would you believe me?? I was waiting for it to be time to go into work when she finished my commission and sent it to me. I started sobbing at all the little details in regards to things I love. QwQ

The adorable lumas, the one wearing Dimentio's mask and a korok--AAH! Like omgosh!

I feel every time I look at it again, I see something new she snuck in! ;^;

I swear, when I commission friends it's the best results ever! ;^; Thank you so much, bestie!!

[just-j-really]

So I've been rotating this idea in my brain since December. It is WIDLY out of season but I am posting anyway. Time has no power over me.

Dream as the boyfriend who gets dumped 90% of the way through the Hallmark movie. Dream is, even in his own mind, this arrogant, moody guy who's a little too obsessed with his job (very high up in the publishing industry). He's not entirely sure how he managed to convince Hob, who's this cheerful, bouncy extrovert and has essentially been Dream's personal Manic Pixie Dream Boy the entire time they've known each other, to go on a SINGLE date with him, let alone be his boyfriend.

And Hob always goes home to see his family for like two weeks at Christmas, it's super important to him. Dream can't afford to be away from work for that long but says Hob should go before him, he'll be there for Christmas itself. Only, the day before Hob's supposed to leave, Dream stands him up for a dinner date (he was at work) and they get in a huge fight about it. The air between them is still very frosty as Hob packs his things and leaves the next morning.

And then Dream spends the next few days with his social media being just. Flooded with pictures of Hob doing Hallmark Christmas activities. He's clearly having a great time. This woman keeps popping up in his photos, and they look so happy together, covered in snow from a snowball fight, sipping hot chocolate at a crowded bar, one video someone else must have taken of them chasing each other around a skating rink, laughing so hard they crash into each other and fall over. Between the photos and the fact that Hob's still texting Dream this whole time, Dream puts together that this is Eleanor, Hob's childhood best friend who he lost touch with when her family moved away unexpectedly.

Hob's talked to Dream about Eleanor before, how close they were and how horrible it was that he never got a chance to say goodbye, or figure out a way to stay in touch (she had super strict parents). Dream has always kinda suspected that there was a layer of 'mutual first crush, but neither of us were really sure where to go from there and the whole thing got brutally ripped out from under us before we could figure it out' to the whole situation as well.

And here they are. They've found each other again, against all odds, they're so clearly happy together, and Eleanor's doing all this fun exciting stuff with Hob that Dream would only be a huge grump about. By the time Dream goes to meet up with Hob, he's already got a whole story in his head of how this is going to go: Hob will tell him he's found someone much better for him and dump him, as Dream deserves.

So when he approaches Hob's parents’ house at like 7pm on December 23rd, and finds Hob and Eleanor talking quietly on the porch, he's just resigned, and fully expecting to end up standing there and watching while they have a Hallmark-movie snow-gently-falling kiss.

Instead, Hob looks up, notices Dream, and immediately just BARRELS into him and hugs him so hard his feet lift off the ground, and before he's really processed that he's the one getting the snow-covered, end-of-the-movie, I-missed-you-so-much kiss. Hob's incredibly enthusiastic and smiling too hard to kiss him properly, and eventually they both wind up in a snowdrift.

And Dream’s just. Not entirely processing as Eleanor greets him (and seems genuinely happy to meet him). And then Hob introduces him to his parents (and they seem happy to meet him, too). And everyone’s acting like he's a wanted part of this gathering, and they're so happy he was able to make it, and Hob's gotten them tickets for some community theater Christmas Carol thing because he knows how much Dream likes earnest-if-amateur art… And a few hours later Dream and Hob are cuddled together on a couch with coco doing some excessively cute Christmas Activity. Wrapping the last few presents while a Christmas movie plays quietly in the background or something. Eleanor has gone home, Hob's parents have gone to bed, so it's just them when Hob softly thanks him for being able to make it at all, and apologizes for the way he left things.

And none of this is how the story is supposed to go.

And I think Dream just breaks down, and Hob's eventually able to get the whole ‘I assumed you'd want to break up with me and date your obvious One True Love, I am terrible’ story out of him. 

And there is a certain amount of genuinely upset ‘ok it hurts that you think I think something so horrible about you’ from Hob. But he pretty quickly figures out that no, Dream’s self-esteem is actually that low; he genuinely thinks ‘so terrible that you'd be morally correct to cheat on him’ is just. An objective fact about himself. 

Which leads to Hob being like “You realize I'm dating you on purpose, right? I like how passionate you are about your job. I like your confidence. I like that you keep me grounded.” And basically just runs down all these traits Dream assumes are his own flaws, only Hob’s talking about them like they’re desirable. As though Dream is his happily-ever-after perfect love.

So, just for a moment, Dream lets himself believe that he could be. And it gets easier and easier to believe as the welcome he received from Hob’s family and friends just continues for the rest of his visit, as he’s easily brought in to assorted Charming Hallmark Christmas Activities and realizes Hob was specifically saving the activities he thought Dream would like for when Dream would be there, as he and Hob return to their normal lives in the Big City and Hob is still happy to be with him, still willing to resolve whatever conflicts come up instead of just giving up.

(And he finds it very easy to believe on New Year’s Eve, when Hob goes for an absolutely over-the-top grand gesture stroke of midnight proposal.)

[deldaydreams]

Mafia Au/Good luck while running away from mafia part 5

İntro, Part 0.5 , Part1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , part 4 , part 6

Warnings: yandere stuff, my not too good English, mentions of death , fighting stuff, too long?..

Tags: @hrhqueenfox , @hasty-desert , @oceanside-pixie , @lianreine , @h3apm3ch4n151m , @cecilebutcher , @ayachansan , @roseapov , @randomlyappearingartist , @serenity-loves-red , @wonderlandcrown , @nightw-izhu , @moonlight-nightwing , @lorkai , @lucid-stories , @morokumi, @lloyura , @juliechi , @noemiaaomi , @eternal-ways @stingywiththeirusername , @00hellohello00 , @bougrell , @akumo-shioki , @beutifulthingsiadore, @kchan3s , @aryuunachigiri , @literallyangy , @sxftiebee

The sound of hard and fast footsteps echoed in the hallway. You suddenly opened the wooden door. The dark-skinned man sitting in the room was startled by your sudden opening of the door. However, he grinned when he saw that it was you who entered.

“Oh my little imp~ what wind brought you here?”

He opened his arms affectionately. However, you did not answer. You closed the circuit breaker of the room. Then you drew the curtains.

“Uh Y/n?”

After looking around for a while, you sat on the chair across from him.

“Please give me your phone.” You said coldly.

“Uh Y/n, you are acting really weird right now-“

You cut him off.

“Please give me your phone and any recording device you have, otherwise I am not responsible for what happens Sam-san.”

He gave you his phone in confusion. After closing up his phone , you threw the file in your hand on the table between the two of you.

“This?”

“I will be frank. We both know you sent this, Sam-san. The seal gives you away, I think you used it. To get me to come to you. Explain. Is what it says here true?”

The dark skinned man grinned. He leaned back in his chair.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about-“

You pulled a check from your pocket and placed it on the table.

“Talk.”

The man’s eyes lit up when he saw the check.

“Oh, they really pay you well, huh? Okay, let’s talk then. Yes, I sent it and you know I do my job well, everything it says there is true.”

You clenched your teeth . You tensed up because you heard something you didn’t want to hear, but you had to stay calm.

“Someone must have asked you to send me these documents, otherwise I don’t think you would send me this just to do me a favor. Tell me, who was the client who asked you to look into these documents and send them to me?”

“Oh, my little devil, please you’re breaking my heart. I’m not that bad of a person, but yes, a client of mine asked me to look into this, but I can’t tell you who it is.”

“How much do you want?”

“Oh sweetie, I can’t answer this question even if you give me your entire bank account, I’m sorry. Another question?”

“Why? Why would they do something like that? The executives… why would they frame me? What have I ever done to them?” You were trying to control your voice.

“Well, I don’t know. No one knows what’s going through those maniacs minds. But it’s not a complete lie, I mean I’m talking about your blood relationship with that man-“

“I eliminated that man, and as my first duty! I didn’t even know about that man… until I got my hands on these documents. But I never betrayed the organization. Why?.. so who knows about the current situation?”

“So as far as I know, the executives naturally. Me, you and my Client.”

“So are you and your client on my side?”

“I don’t know about my client, but I only care about my money and of course it depends on the risk involved.”

You stood up. You adjusted your suit.

“You won’t tell anyone about our conversation today, Sam-san. Also, I have a job for you. I want you to report to me every step the executives take. Understood? if you do anything wrong-“

You took out your voice recorder from your pocket.

“I’ll drag you with me. Understood? Good. If anyone asks, I was here for the tea.”

You walked towards the door. Sam stood up at your words.

“Hey, how am I supposed to follow all of them at the same time? Hey Y/n!”

He tried to protest. You turned around before leaving.

“That’s your problem. And I’ll pay you as much as I can, don’t worry.”

And you left the information dealer alone in the room.

-

As you walked towards your office, you noticed that the door wasn’t locked. When you opened the door, you were met with Deuce. The moment you entered, the navy-haired Heartslabyul boy turned to you.

“Deuce? Why are you here?”

“Oh, hello Y/n. Trey-san made a strawberry cake. He asked me to bring it to you.”

“I see. Thank you…”

Your eyes drifted to the potted plant behind Deuce. He was busy with it until he noticed you had entered.

“By the way, how did you get in?”

“Oh, the door was unlocked.”

The door was unlocked , you thought to yourself.

“I see. If there’s nothing else, I’ll see you off. Don’t make Riddle-san mad with your absence, hmm?”

You tried to send him off.

“Oh, yeah…Right. See you then, Y/n.”

After sending the navy-haired boy away, you slowly walked towards the potted plant. You slowly started to water the plant.

You found the small black device you were looking for among the leaves. I found it, you said to yourself. Apparently there was an extra camera in your office. An unwanted camera…

- Current Timeline

“Look at the state of yourself . You’re a complete mess .” The black-haired beautiful boy criticized you.

“As if I care that much.” You replied indifferently. You were checking the cables of the machines while eating your sandwich.

“By the way, it was almost impossible to get into the city. I would like to point out that they have posted men at all the entrances and exits. How do you plan on getting out?”

The black-haired boy spoke again.

“That’s my problem Neige, just focus on your job.”

“…what exactly did you do that the entire mafia is after you right now? You’re the most talked topic in the underworld right now.”

You didn’t answer. You just focused on your job.

“Hey, I provided you with all that food, water, clothes, weapons and vehicle. Can I at least get a proper answer?”

Neige whined. But you just ignored him.

“By the way, this is an old abandoned place? What are we doing in this amusement park?”

The black-haired assassin asked.

“We’ll hunt.” You replied. You had completed the final checks by now.

“We’ll hunt? Aren’t you the one being hunted? Besides, you’re injured.”

“Just do what I said. I’ve already paid you and your boss owes me. Besides I thought you wanted to see Vil-san.”

The young assassin opened his mouth to say something but chose to remain silent.

“Whatever. Look, the plan is that either Ignihyde or Pomefiore will most likely attack. Diasomnia usually prefers to be the last one to show up . Your job is to help me escape from Vil-san, okay? It’s that simple.”

You explained your plan to him.

“They will catch you anyway. Why are you running away? Nonsense.”

You took a deep breath.

“I wish your mouth was as pretty as your face… Just do what I say, you understand.”

The young assassin shrugged and you two started to wait.

“Here they come.” You said as you watched the footage of the camera you had repaired

“You’re lucky. Vil-san came too.” You said as you cut the cable of the camera you had repaired earlier.

“Uh, why did you only fix one camera and then cut the cable again?”

Neige pointed to the cable you had cut.

“There’s a good chance they’ll split up and someone will come here to check. Anyway, let’s get to work.”

-

“So, they are hiding here?”

The Rookie assassin asked as he got out of the car.

“Mmh. According to the road records we got, yes.” The blonde sniper confirmed.

“Anyway, there’s only one entrance and exit to this place, and that’s here. Rook, you stay here. Epel, you’re coming with me.”

The Pomefiore executive said.

“I can do this job on my own-“

Epel tried to object.

“Are you stupid? Even though they are injured, Y/n was trained by Divus Crewel himself. If you go one-on-one with them, your chances of winning are very low.”

Vil stopped him.

“I don’t think there’ll be any problems. If there’s a problem, we’ll notice it through our communication devices. Let him do what he wants.”

The sniper intervened. The blonde manager sighed.

“Okay. But your communication device will always be on, is that clear?”

-

The young assassin walked forward with confident steps. What a big amusement park, he thought. He headed towards a tent that looked like a large circus tent that caught his eye up ahead. Perhaps the person he was looking for was here.

Y/n L/n is the right-hand man of Boss Crowley, the apple of eye of the executives, and according to some rumors, Crowley's heir. Before Epel met them. he found them annoying. He thought it was ridiculous that all executives were circling around one person, but after meeting them , he understood why. Y/n wasn't perfect, but there was something about them that drew people to them, something he couldn't quite put his finger on...

Y/n was affectionate, they would intervene whenever Vil would scold him or punish him. Sometimes they would bring him gifts from their business trips. They would have regular movie nights with the other rookies…but everything was ruined. Y/n ruined everything. They betrayed them...

When Epel entered the big tent, he was sure that it was an old circus tent. He started looking around… I guess they are not here, he thought to himself. He had just turned around when something fell on him from above. Someone.

The young assassin jumped back reflexively.

He was speechless when he saw the person in front of him.

“Oh, it’s just you. I thought it was Vil-san and got excited. Anyway, let’s finish this quickly.”

Neige LeBlanche. The best assassin in the underworld outside of Vil. The assassin who was always compared to Vil by many people. Just like Vil’s nickname was Poisoned Apple, Neige’s was Snow White. He was also the assassin of the rival mafia.

“So Y/n really did betray us, huh?” Epel said nervously.

The black-haired assassin didn’t answer. He just smiled…

-

Vil walked forward with firm and confident steps. For some reason, he had a feeling that the person he was looking for would be here, in the mirror maze. He stopped and focused. There were faint footsteps…they are here, he thought to himself.

He focused on where the footsteps were coming from…Clank!

“Oh, I broke the wrong mirror.” And again, and again…

The sound of mirrors breaking echoed through the maze.

And again, Clank!

You jumped back.

“Oh, I found you!” He grinned mischievously, like a child who had finally gotten a toy he had wanted for a long time.

He swung his dagger at your injured shoulder, but you managed to dodge.

“Bastard.” You said.

He grinned. You dodged as he attacked.

You could have attacked him if you wanted, but no. Vil’s goal was to distract you. You had to focus on and avoid his attacks . At least until Neige came.

Vil’s nickname wasn’t poisoned apple for nothing. He would kill his victims by poisoning them. He would also poison most of the weapons he used. So that dagger should never touch you.

You jumped back again. But suddenly Vil stopped.

“Look at you, nch nch nch… you are a mess. How much can you resist me, hmm? Besides, you are injured. If you surrender, even though you are a traitor, I can help you with your punishment. ”

“Traitor? Oh no, you are the one who betrayed. You betrayed me! All of you! I am only saving myself.” You said harshly.

Vil’s face tightened when he heard the word betrayal.

“We didn’t betray you. We just took precautions.”

You laughed unwillingly at his words.

“Precautions? Who do you think you are kidding? I heard those conversations with my own ears. Whether you accept it or not. You stabbed me from my back . I was going to be declared a traitor one way or another.”

Vil started to attack aggressively again, and you got defensive.

Where was Neige?..

Vil tried to hit your injured shoulder again, and just as you were about to retreat, a voice came.

“Vil-san!”

Neige LeBlance had finally arrived.

You backed away while Vil was distracted by the voice.

The black-haired assassin quickly attacked the blonde assassin.

“You’re late,” you said.

“Sorry, I ran into a little rookie on the way. Well, the rest is up to me. You can leave.” Neige replied.

“So you’re working with RSA, huh? And you’re saying you didn’t betray us!” Neige’s presence was more than enough to drive Vil crazy. You knew that very well. That was one of the reasons you wanted Neige. He was Vil’s greatest enemy.

You grinned and ran away from the mirror maze.

-

As you expected, you saw the blonde sniper at the entrance. He was waiting cross-legged.

He must have noticed your arrival because he stood up and smiled. There were only a few meters between you.

“It’s been a long time, huh? You have no idea how much I missed you.”

“I suggest you run, Rook. Vil obviously placed you here just in case, but I advise you not to waste time with me. I don’t know how your little rookie Epel is doing right now.”

The blonde man’s eyebrow rose at your words.

“What do you mean by ‘I don’t know’?”

You grinned to break the sniper’s composure.

“It’s true that I can’t ‘harm’ him, but who knows what an enemy assassin might do to him? If I were you, I’d hurry up and find him, otherwise…” you didn’t finish the sentence. Your words were enough to make the sniper nervous.

He looked at you one last time.

“You’ll get caught sooner or later, you know that.”

He said and walked away to find the young rookie as soon as possible.

And as for you, You got into the car you asked Neige to provide for you and drove away.

-

“Agh! You’ve got to be kidding me!” Ashton Vargos, once again frustrated, took the money from his losing bet out of his wallet and reluctantly handed it to Sam.

“It’s going pretty well so far, huh? But some people seem to be in a bad mood.” Crowley sipped his tea.

“Stop messing with Crewel, Crowley.”

Mozus Trein said.

“Trein-sensei, I didn’t do anything.” Crowley said mischievously.

“ You are truly the devil himself .” Trein sighed.

“You’re breaking my heart, Trein-sensei. I’m a real gentleman. Everyone knows that.” Crowley said, his voice wasn’t like the voice of someone who was upset, but rather a mocking tone.

“Of course, whatever you say. It's not like you killed the previous Boss and framed Ramshackle, who was the biggest threat to your seat. Now you're doing the same to them ... are you having fun?" Mozus Trein said. His voice was calm, perhaps because of his age.

"Very much. I'm having so much fun."

[after-witch]

Fever Pitch [Yandere Geto Suguru x Reader]

Title: Fever Pitch [Yandere Geto x Reader]

Synopsis: Geto’s been hit by a lust curse, and you take what little control you have to avoid him snapping. Follow-up to Bus Stop.

Word Count: 3200ish

Notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, dubcon, sex, some mentions of past degradation 

 It’s funny, the way you can get used to anything. When you were first taken,  you would have sworn--on your heart, your soul, on blood from a cut on your palm--that you would fight, hiss, and spit at Geto until the day you died. 

And now here you are, nestled on a seat cushion in his sitting room, quietly reading a book while he’s off collecting curses and doing favors that aren’t really true favors at all. The person assigned to you today is a familiar face, someone you don’t entirely detest, if only because they are content to keep an eye on you without emanating visible hatred towards your existence at every second.

They were even kind--or what classifies as “kind” here--enough to lend you their scissors a few weeks ago, when someone stuck a wad of sticky bubble gum in your hair as they passed you in a hallway. Sure, they kept an eye on you the entire time in order to make sure you weren’t trying to stab yourself (or anyone else); but they said nothing as you hacked at your own hair, eventually giving yourself a passable pixie cut.

Geto had raised his eyebrows when he came back that day, and had a quiet word with your keeper. But you didn’t get punished, so that was that. Cutting off your hair felt good, even. Like you were cutting out whatever part of yourself was still simmering in pointless anger at  your situation. Why be angry, why be in despair, when nothing you did mattered? You ran once. He found you. If you bothered to run again--not that you’d get the chance--he would find you again. And again. 

It was better to find something like enjoyment instead of wallowing. 

Wasn’t it?

Besides, even Geto had been different since the day he found you. He seemed content for you to be a quiet pet again. He no longer visited you in the night, touching you, forcing pleasures and sounds you didn’t want to experience from his fingers, even as he commanded you to always keep your arms away from him. He was allowed to touch--but you weren’t allowed to touch him. You hated it. 

But he hadn’t touched you in the slightest intimate way since that day. Unless you counted the condescending head pats as intimate, which you certainly did not. 

You hear Geto’s footsteps, and your muscles tense in preparation. You carefully set a bookmark in your book and set it aside; he didn’t like it when you paid attention to a book instead of him. Especially when he’d been gone for most of the day. 

But something’s wrong. Something’s different.

These are not the orderly footsteps of Geto returning to his rooms at the end of a (horribly) productive day. These steps are staggered--hesitant. 

Strange.

Your current keeper stands when Geto enters, but he simply dismisses them with a wave of his hand and an unusually curt: “Leave.” 

They hazard a glance at you--it almost feels kind--before swiftly grabbing their bag and walking away, hurried steps echoing in the hallway that leads to his suite of rooms.

As soon as they’re out of earshot, Geto begins to shed his clothing. Now this wasn’t unusual. He preferred to wear only a casual outfit around you, some trousers and a light top most of the time. What was unusual was the undignified manner in which he did it, simply peeling away his layers and tossing them on the ground, all the while his breath seemed to come in quiet, stuttering pants.

It’s enough to make you break your gaze from the floor and look at him.

Geto looks… ill. His cheeks are flushed and yes, his chest is heaving a little as he takes in short, frenzied breaths. Even the skin of his neck and collar had a slight glow to it, like he’d been exercising vigorously or done something terribly embarrassing. 

“Geto?” You ask, hesitantly. You flick your eyes back down to the floor, where you’re told they belong until he says otherwise. 

He doesn’t answer. The final layers of his robes drop to the floor. 

Normally, he would approach you now, calmly. He might tilt your chin up with his hand and ask what you did today--if you were good, if you behaved. 

Instead he staggers away, catching himself on the corner of a table.

“Geto?” You try again, voice higher, more concerned. 

You look up to see him with both palms splayed on the table, breaths coming in deeper huffs. His skin is still flushed--it’s so strange--and you swear the room feels warmer than it did a few moments ago. 

His fingers curl against the table into a tight fist, then release, then curl again. His breath comes in more ragged by the moment. There’s an unmistakable soft groan--in pain? Discomfort?

“Are you… all right?” You ask, and do the boldest thing possible in your present situation, which happens to be standing up on shaky legs and taking a step towards him.

“Don’t.” The word is practically growled out, and your muscles freeze for the moment, keeping you in place.

He turns to look at you, but instead of looking angry, he looks… desperate. His eyes roam over you and his lips part, and you see the edge of his tongue reach out to lick a dry patch as he struggles to regain control over his breath. 

The expression hits you and it’s oh-so familiar and you don’t like it at all.

Geto isn’t sick. 

He’s aroused.

You reach up to clutch at your shirt, fidgeting with the fabric like it might actually provide comfort in this unsure situation.

“What… happened?” 

He doesn’t answer at first. His mouth twists into something like a grin, but it’s twitchy, uncontrolled. He chuckles slowly.

“A curse. I should have taken a closer look, but--” He lets out a pained sigh and squeezes his eyes shut. “I was distracted. Foolish. Stupid.”

You--perhaps foolish, stupid--take a step forward. Little pieces find themselves fitting together in your brain, trying to create a plan for what will come ahead. It’s how you’ve managed to survive so far, isn’t it? Taking in everything about your situation and acting accordingly to preserve your health and sanity?

“What… kind of curse?” You ask, and take more steps, until you’re close enough that you can feel some of the unnatural warmth from his body. 

He looks at you slowly, his eyes almost rolling in a way that makes your stomach turn. You perhaps don’t need to actually hear the answer. It’s become clear, with the way he’s panting, the way his skin is flushed, the awful warmth from being so close to him. But it’s best for him to admit it, anyway, and confirm it to your whirring brain.

“Lust.”

Something seems to roil through him and he leans down, groaning in an uninhibited way that makes cold fear crawl up your arms, despite the warmth from Geto’s body. This close, you can see the sweat beading on his forehead, and when you glance down, his hardness is evident through his trousers.

Oh, you’re going to be fucked by the end of the night. You know it. It’s an inevitability. 

What if it’s like before? When he would be rough and fast, and it would feel good and terrible all at the same time? When you felt like you had no control over what was done to you, and what you were made to do? The shame that would spread through your body afterward was nearly unbearable. 

No… it was better to take charge yourself, wasn’t it? The only other option was to wait for him to snap. And if he was influenced by some lust-filled curse, there’s no telling what he might do. 

So you’ll take care of him before he can reach that breaking point. 

“Geto,” you say, and your hand reaches out slowly, like he’s a wild dog (perhaps he is) until it rests just above his back. Close enough for him to sense you. Although attempting to touch him without permission would normally have earned you a slap on the wrist and a reprimand, Geto leans into your palm, letting out a soft, pleased noise, as if your palm resting on his back was something far more wonderful.

“Let me… take care of you,” you manage, tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth before you force it loose to say the words. He doesn’t answer, breath still coming out in a pant. 

“Let’s go to the bedroom.” You speak louder, more firmly. More sure of yourself, even if a large part of you is wondering if this is a terrible idea after all. But it’s better to get it over with; to do this on your terms, or as much of your terms as you can manage. You can at least admit that.

Geto doesn’t answer, and you’re about to say something else when he grabs your wrist--it’s too tight, his palm is sweaty--and begins to pull you towards the bedroom. Your house slippers scuff on the floor from the unsteady force of his grip, but you manage not to fall.

Later, you will wonder--if you did trip in that moment, would he have simply taken you on the floor? It was a distinct possibility.

But you don’t fall. You make it to the bedroom and he lets go of you, stripping off his clothes with  a frenzy that is completely unlike him. You don’t wait for an order to remove your own clothing. He might not have even been in the right frame of mind to remember that you’re normally supposed to wait for his order on everything. Or perhaps it has been so long since he’d touched you this way, he didn’t even think of giving it in the first place.

When he turns around, both of you are naked. His hardness is evident, erect and pressing against his flushed body. You can see wetness around his tip and something between your leg twinges in both pleasant anticipation and worry at what this curse-induced arousal might mean for the both of you.

“Well?” He says, voice thick and low. 

You swallow against your throat, against the worries that normally come with seeing Geto naked. You remind yourself that this is different. That you’re taking control, as much as you can get, with him so afflicted. It won’t be like before, surely, when he would use you and leave you alone like the toy that you were afterward. 

“Lay on the bed,” you command. Your body flinches instinctively at the audacity of it. “Please,” you add, but he doesn’t seem to mind your forwardness in this moment. He crawls on the bed and leans back against the pillows, keeping himself half-upright as he watches you. 

You glance down at his cock. It twitches, ever so slightly, and you feel yourself twitch between your legs to match it. Was it because it had been so long? Or because you were the one telling him what to do? Or some awful mixture of both, and more besides? 

It was hard to tell what was normal and what wasn’t in the fucked up state of your existence. 

“Get on the bed.” It’s his turn to give a command, and you’re quick to obey it. For as much as you’re taking the initiative, you can’t let yourself forget who owns you, perhaps literally. Even if he’s currently flushed and woozy and subject to the demands of the arousal forced upon him by some wayward curse.

You climb on the bed and crawl until you’re positioned with your knees on either side of his hips. It’s the first time you’ve been above him. It would be out of the question, you think, before. He liked to remind you where you belonged in the literal sense, and that had extended to sexual positions.

Instinctively, your hands go behind your back, folding primly. You’re not supposed to touch him during sex. You know that. It’s been the rule; it was one of the first things he drilled into your head when he began fucking you. He was allowed to touch you in any way he wanted; stroking and pinching and whatever else fell within his whims. But you? You keep your filthy hands to yourself. 

And so, it’s with your hands behind your back that you carefully begin to lower yourself onto his erect cock. 

He gasps and groans, and you do, too. Your twinges were not enough to get you properly wet, and it hurts as you lower yourself down. But the flush on his face and the feeling of being full after so long begins to grant you the warmth necessary to produce your own slickness, easing the passage just a little as you take all of him in. Not enough for it to be painless. But it’s not like that ever mattered before. 

“Fuck,” he spits out, throwing his head back from there mere sensation of your pussy taking in his erection. You feel yourself clench him and he hisses in delight. It makes you feel a bit giddy, to affect him like this, with so little.

Your fists clench behind your back as he bottoms out inside you, and your own groan joins his as you steady yourself, keeping your balance as you sit on top of him. His cock twitches inside you and you let out a sigh, leaning forward. Your hair tickles your ears.

He’s looking up at you, hips writhing in a way that makes you gasp.

“Touch me.” 

You think you must have misheard him.

“I said touch me,” he says, more forceful, the arousal pulsing through him giving his voice a thick tinge. He thrusts his hips and you bump upwards, in discomfort yes, but also a growing sense of your own arousal at the fullness and friction inside you.

“All--” You gasp when he thrusts again, and perhaps the idea of taking too much control was an illusion. “All right!” Your hands slowly come out from behind your back and with a hesitation that comes from months of being trained otherwise, you slowly lower your hands to rest on his hips.

Slowly, you trail your hands up to his chest, eyeing his nipples. How long had they been erect? Was it before or after you lowered yourself on him? It doesn’t matter. You begin to pull yourself up, timing your own movements with his now-shallow thrusting. As you do, your hands rest on his nipples, rubbing them slowly with your palm--the way he sometimes does to you, if he’s not pinching them harshly to make you squeal.

“Yes,” he murmurs. “Just… just like that. Good pet.” 

And there again, the sight of his pleasure from your touch, his raise, makes you clench… which makes him hiss in pleasure, which makes you giddy. 

It’s a wonderful cycle, and so different from all of the other times he’s fucked you. This is almost nice, in its own way. To be above him, mostly in control of how fast you move, how much of him you take in and out as you lift yourself up and down on his cock.

“Faster,” he says, and you don’t mind obeying. One of your hands still toys with his nipple while the other reaches between your own legs and thumbs at your clit. It’s audacious, really--you’re not supposed to pleasure yourself without his permission.

But he doesn’t tell you to stop. Instead he simply watches the way your thumb rubs against your clit; does he enjoy the sight of his cock inside you, the way your pussy takes him as you use your leg muscles to thrust up and down?

He must, because you can feel your own arousal mixing with his, see the way his chest rises faster. Tell-tale signs that he’s getting close.

“Stop,” he orders suddenly. “Get off me.” His voice is still low, still filled with lust, but there’s something else in it. Something more familiar. 

“Geto?” You ask, confused, your own voice coated with arousal that’s just about to reach its peak. It’s disappointing to stop now, but you know better than to disobey. Even right now, or perhaps, especially right now.

He seems to regain a stronger semblance of himself. “Get off,,” he commands, and you do. 

It doesn’t take long to realize why he gave the order. He swiftly grips your arms and flips you on the bed, your back pressing against the sheets that are warm with his own unmistakable body heat.

Now this is familiar. Geto above you, naked, flushed, aroused. And you, beneath him. But this time your arousal was of your own making, and there’s a sort of power in that, you think.

He’s back inside you and by this time you’re wet enough that it simply feels good to be filled again. His wrists keep your own pinned and you murmur a plea, you were so close, Geto--and to your surprise, one of his hands leaves your wrist to begin playing with your clit.

Arousal builds quickly this time, and you come without ceremony, your muscles clenching around him and legs kicking helplessly on the bed as he continues to touch you through your orgasm.

Familiar patterns set in, and as your own orgasm begins to fade out, you know what will happen now. He’ll fuck you faster and pull out as he comes–he refuses to finish inside you–and then leave you to yourself.. Maybe he’ll have to go another round to deal with the effects of this curse, but whatever change had been over him before, allowing you greater freedom, was surely gone.

Only… maybe not.

Because as you feel the familiar sensation of Geto pushing inside you harder and faster as he nears his release, something new happens. Something different. Something that makes butterflies and battery acid flutter in your stomach all at the same time.

He leans down and presses his lips against yours, tentatively at first, then harder, until you open up your mouth and let his tongue inside.

Geto kisses you. It’s a surprisingly passionate kiss, and you let out a yelp of surprise when he grips your chin and kisses you through his own orgasm. 

He doesn’t even pull out. You feel his seed inside you for the first time, a liquid warmth. It’s uncomfortable and strange and you wonder how angry he’ll be, later on, that he did this. 

He doesn’t stop kissing you until you’re breathing heavily through your nose, and when he pulls away you take in a gulp of air.

He stares down at you with something that looks like wonder. At himself… or you? 

“Good pet,” he murmurs. But there’s no condescension in it today. 

There’s an awful, naked vulnerability that washes over you.

Geto let you touch him. Geto kissed you. 

Geto, Geto, Geto…

Was he going to be mad when this curse effect wore off? Would he get rid of you for making him violate so many of his own rules? 

You don’t have time to think about it, because you realize he’s still hard, and he begins to thrust shallowly inside your overstimulated pussy. 

He’ll have to go another round. 

--

Afterward, sleep came without warning. You had simply closed your eyes when Geto finally pulled out and that was that. 

You don’t know how much time has passed when you open your eyes, blinking away the grogginess of an unexpected nap. 

There’s a soreness between your legs, which you expected. There’s the feeling of your body being used, a low openness that combines vulnerability and humiliation in a bittersweet mixture; which you expected.

You don’t expect to blink and see Geto sleeping beside you, his arm slung around your waist, keeping you in place.

Geto never slept with you like this. He would fuck you and use you and sometimes tell you that you were a good pet if he was in a jovial mood--and he would leave. 

You’re afraid to move. If you wake him, will he be angry? Will he be annoyed that he let himself fall asleep beside you? Annoyed with himself for allowing it, or annoyed with you for being there? 

You don’t move, but it doesn’t matter. His eyes flutter open and you feel the warmth of his breath on your face as he takes in the sight before him, as you just did.

He doesn’t furrow his eyebrows in irritation or fling himself out of bed or reprimand you for existing like this in his space. Instead he pulls you closer, until your face is pressed closer to his chest. It makes you feel something--warmth? Affection? Relief that you weren’t being yelled at for being bad?--and your hand slowly leaves your side to curl up against his chest. 

He allows it. 

“Go back to sleep,” he murmurs.

And you obey.

[chaaistained]

hi chaai! do you have any ideas on where to shift to?

ideas on where to shift .*+

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we’ll get the obvious out of the way, there are many different locations you can shift to anon !! and i personally don’t know what your interests and hyperfixations are :( but ! i still want to help in any way i can ≈ so here are a list of general ideas and suggestions and maybe some inspo into different realities to which you (any of you!) can shift !! and ofcs you can tweak it all to your liking xx

sink into self indulgence …

—» shifting at its core is self indulgent and the first example i can think of is your favourite childhood books, movies and shows — the kind of self indulgence where you go back to what made your life sparkle as a child, what made you believe in the impossible, what made you wish the impossible was real, whether it’s fairies, dragons, mermaids, or monsters going to high school, you should take a trip down memory lane and figure out what had you rushing to finish your meal to go watch the latest episode, or work hard at your homework so you could buy the next edition of the game. there’s also the media consumed in your teenage years, the kinds of media that helps you feel like you were escaping and yet at the same time like you were understood

examples include : hogwarts , narnia , my little pony , monster high , ever after high , how to train your dragon , percy jackson and the olympians , h2o , pixie hollow , barbie fairytopia/mermaidia , hilda , bridge to terabithia , wizards of waverley place , minecraft , power rangers , tmnt , disney princesses , little women , gilmore girls , studio ghibli , etc.

—» there are also the realities where you play a part in the bigger picture, you are a significant piece in a vast and intricate puzzle, you stand among your peers, your friends, as someone to be recognised, maybe you’re looking for some thrill? some excitement? some sort of battle or mystery or revolution where you can fight for the underdog or reclaim some form of power — be careful if you do choose to explore these places, but i’m sure you’ll handle it just fine

examples include : marvel/mcu/the avengers/spiderverse , dc/justice league/the arrowverse/smallville , the hunger games , the walking dead , arcane , supernatural , teen wolf , the maze runner , the vampire diaries , pretty little liars , gossip girl , mean girls , outer banks , criminal minds , brooklyn nine nine , the rookie , dune , star wars , avatar: the last airbender , james cameron’s avatar , jurassic park/world , pirates of the caribbean , twilight , etc.

—» conversely, your dr doesn’t even need to be fantastical, sometimes, the things that bring us comfort are in fact the most relaxing, they slow our lives down for whatever time we spend engaging in them, they let us unwind and unravel any burden we’ve unknowingly put on ourselves, the dr doesn’t even need to be based on some form of media, it could be your dream life and/or career

examples include : better cr (HIGHLY RECOMMEND) , cafe/barista , librarian , farmer , florist , artist , museum curator , boarding school , summer camp , bookstore owner , writer , painter , photographer , chef , designer , animator , game developer , director , etc.

—» but maybe you would like a career in the spotlight, where you can finally show the world what you’re capable of, the talent and skills that you know are innate to your being and you just need the opportunity to showcase it

examples include : actor , pop star , band member , kpop idol , youtuber , broadway singer , talk show host , dancer , professional athlete , model , travel vlogger , socialite , royalty , etc.

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when all is said and done, shifting is inherently a form of self love, you’re picking yourself and you’re choosing to shift and experience a reality that will fulfil you in some way !! the ideas in this post are not the limit, there is no limit, [cue mean girls’ “the limit does not exist” scene] so let your creativity take control and let yourself indulge in what makes you happy

cuppa queries; order in — ask responses

2025 © chaaistained

[fatkish]

hello!!!

I was wondering if you could do a dadzawa x student! Reader who starves themselves and says they’re not hungry because they don’t really feel hungry at all if you get what I mean(s3 ep42)

So basically they js head off to bed once they get to the camp instead of eating and stuff and he’s concerned for their well being and yeahh. Sorry I’m not a really good explainer but I’d really appreciate it if you do this request it would mean a lot to me considering I am a person who sometimes unintentionally starves themselves

Anyways I hope you have a good rest of your day/night, and thank you once again!!

I totally get this. Due to my middle school experience, I went from having breakfast at around 7:00-7:30 am with lunch at around 11:00 am to breakfast at 6:30 am an lunch at 1:00 pm. This was horrible for me because I would sit in class with my stomach growling before lunch. It made me develop horrible eating habits, so I get it. Anyways, onto the story.

Aizawa x Student Reader (Platonic): Eating Habits

You and your class had just walked out of the forest after having spent hours making your way to the campsite, dodging and fighting Pixie-Bob’s earth monsters

Despite all this, you still weren’t hungry, you didn’t plan on eating and were planning to just take a bath and go to sleep

When Aizawa told you guys to grab your bags off the bus and put them away before heading to dinner, you grabbed your bag with everyone else and headed inside

You went into your shared room and set your bag down in your spot. You began to unpack, rolling out your bedding, getting it all made up

As everyone left to go eat, you decided to clean up and take a shower to get rid of the dirt from the day

Aizawa has always been observant, so he definitely had noticed how you rarely went to lunch to eat, you’d either nap, play games, or do your own thing in the classroom

There had been times he’d seen you eating your homemade lunch in the classroom away from others, so he assumed that you had an issue with eating around other people

When he didn’t see you eating among his other students, he assumed you were too shy to get food or perhaps too tired

So he went to find you and make sure you got food in you

When he found you and told you where the cafeteria was and to go eat, he was surprised and concerned to hear that you didn’t plan on eating and planned instead to take a bath and go to bed

Aizawa wasn’t so keen on this plan of yours

He asked you why, to which you replied that you weren’t hungry. He told you that that’s not good enough of a reason

He then gave you a lecture about how the body needs food especially with the training you’re going to be doing

He thinks that there may be more to this and hopes that the reader doesn’t have some kind of eating disorder

He decides to go get the reader a small plate of food and bring it to them

Once he does, he tells them that he wants to see them eat what’s on the plate and then he’ll let them sleep after that

Aizawa isn’t one to budge from this so you eat the food. Upon seeing you slightly struggle he decides to sit down and try to talk to you

As you talk to him, he asks if there’s a reason why you have a hard time eating

You tell him you’re just not hungry

He asks if you’re bulimic or anorexic or have some kind of underlying issue that has caused this

Seeing where his thoughts were going you quickly and throughly reassured him that you just have a hard time eating when you aren’t hungry

Throughout the camp, Aizawa makes sure to keep an eye on you and lets you take a break to eat whenever you do get hungry

He may be strict, but his number one priority is to make sure his students are taken care of

[bartonomy]

REGULUS BLACK AND THE ART OF LOVING A MADMAN ( WOMAN??)

PAIRING Regulus Black x Crouch!Fem! Reader

SYNOPSIS When you pick a fight with Mulciber (again), get hit with a particularly nasty hex (again), and land yourself in the hospital wing (again), Regulus has to work his usual charm on a professor to clean up your mess. Just another day in his fucking life.

CONTENT WARNING not proofread! ,crouch family slander, reader gets hurt, regulus getting pulled into things, fluff!!

WORD COUNT 1.8k

library.

Regulus Black regretted a lot of decisions in his life.

Most of them involved his family, some of them involved his choice of friends, and at least one of them involved that time Barty had convinced him to try a new spell that had made him vomit slugs for an hour. But on the top among his many regrets, the one that occupied his mind on a near-daily basis and might be the reason why his hair is greying at the ripe age of 16, was the fact that he had somehow, against all logic and reason, fallen in love with you out of all people.

And, unfortunately, the most insane person he had ever met.

“Stop them!” a first year yelled across the courtyard.

Regulus sighed deeply, already rubbing his temples. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake-”

He turned just in time to see you- his oh so lovely, brilliant and slightly deranged girlfriend- launching herself at Mulciber like a particularly homicidal pixie.

“Oh, brilliant,” Regulus muttered.

The duel had looked absolutely pathetic, if he was being honest. Spells were flying. Mulciber’s wand was raised, his face exasperated with anger and annoyance, while you looked totally unbothered, happy even, to be challenged. “You really want to do this, Crouch?”

“You looked at me funny,” you mused, as if that was a reasonable explanation. You showed no sign of actually doing any harm that day,he thinks, much to his surprise.

Merlin's buttocks, I'm getting too used to this mental buffoonery.

As if you could hear his thoughts (well, his steps weren't exactly quiet on the cobble stones), you added, "Care to repeat what you said about me and Barty as well, Mulci?"

Regulus let out a long-suffering sigh. Of course it about Barty. Barty Jr. could get away with murder in front of you, and you would still defend his honor as if he were some kind of noble martyr instead of an absolute menace.

For once, though, he wasn’t involved. He was sitting off to the side, watching the fight unfold with mild interest, completely unaware that his little sister was about to get herself hexed into oblivion on his behalf.

“I didn’t say anything that wasn't the truth, Black,” Mulciber was saying lazily to him. “And you know,” he drawled, twirling his wand between his fingers, “I always wondered how someone as uptight as Barty Sr. managed to spawn not one, but two utter disappointments.”

Regulus felt his girlfriend tense. Beside you, Barty went very still.

Mulciber smirked. “I mean, your brother’s already well on his way to becoming a Ministry disgrace. But you-” He let out a low whistle. “I don’t know if you’re worse because you’re reckless or because you don’t even realize it.”

Regulus sighed. Oh, for Merlin’s sake.

Barty scoffed, looking deeply unbothered. “Well, you would be an expert on family disappointments, Mulciber. How is your Squib cousin, by the way?”

Mulciber’s smirk faltered. His wand snapped up. That was it.

"Sectumsempra!"

You barely dodged it, eyes narrowing. “Alright, you little freak, where the hell did you learn-”

Regulus was already moving, pushing through the gathering crowd of Slytherins who had circled around, waiting for blood. “Protego!” Regulus flicked his wand just in time to deflect the bombarda that was just blasted- your spell, because of course you weren't backing down. No, you were going straight for the kill. “Reggie!” you whined. “I had him!”

“No, you didn’t,” Regulus said flatly.

“Mulciber, you have the nerve to continue this child's play,” Barty Jr. called from the sidelines. He didn’t sound particularly concerned. Mulciber smirked. “the little rat has nothing against me.”

He caught his girlfriend’s eye- “Don’t kill him." you just winked. And then, with a graceful, almost lazy movement, you flicked you wand. “Expelliarmus.”

Mulciber barely dodged. He fired back, sneering- “Stupefy!” You stepped casually aside, as if dodging wasn’t even an effort. “You’re going to have to try harder than that, love.”

Mulciber growled and raised his wand. “Depulso!” You twirled your wand midair defending yourself, as if the interaction was boring you immensely. The force of the impact barely even ruffled your hair.

Barty let out a mocking yawn. “Come on, Mulciber. You hex like a first year.” Mulciber’s face twisted with anger. “At least I have some dignity,” he spat. “Unlike your sister, who has none. It’s pathetic, really. A Crouch playing attack dog for a Black?”

Regulus’s jaw clenched. He looked at his girlfriend, and you were smiling, Not in a nice way. Oh, he was so done for.

You tilted your head, mockingly thoughtful. “You know what’s really pathetic, Mulciber?”Mulciber scowled. “What?”

You only flicked your wand. “Silencio.”

His mouth disappeared, where once his lips were, was now a blank canvas of skin. Mulciber’s eyes widened. He tried to speak- but only muffled words came out.

Barty burst out laughing. “Oh, that’s just cruel, tiger” Mulciber’s face twisted with rage. He furiously swiped his wand to counter the curse- but you didn’t let him. With one smooth, effortless motion, you fired another spell.

“Locomotor Mortis.”*

Mulciber stumbled. His legs went jelly-like, his knees buckling beneath him. Regulus exhaled. “Chéri, are you playing with your food?”

“Obviously.”

Mulciber seethed silently. He furiously gestured with his wand and you deflected the curse midair with zero effort. At this point, he was shaking with fury. His pride- his absolute refusal to lose to a damn Crouch-took over. His eyes flashed and he pointed his wand. A muffled “Confringo!” could be heard as red streaks came blasting towards you.

Regulus’s stomach dropped. The spell hit you square in the shoulder, sending you flying backwards with a sickening crack. “Bloody hell-” Regulus lunged forward, catching you just before you hit the ground.

Your robes were singed, your arm at an unnatural angle that would make a troll wince, and, of course, you were still trying to get back up. “ I swear to my ancestors souls, let me at him, Regulus, before-”

Regulus tightened his grip, pushing you down gently. “You are not dueling with a broken arm.”

You huffed. “I could still win.”

“You could also die,” Regulus snapped. He turned to Mulciber, eyes cold. “Are you quite finished?”

Mulciber raised his hands frantically, gesturing to you and back to barty as if to say 'Hey, she started it!'

Regulus didn’t argue. You had, in fact, started it. But that didn’t make this situation any less infuriating.

“Barty,” he called. “A little help?”

Said boy finally got up from his seat, leisurely strolling over like this wasn’t a life-or-death situation. He peered down at his sister with a critical eye, then shrugged. “You’ll live.”

You groaned. “That’s your concern?”

“You look fine to me,” he said cheerfully. “Besides, I think you got one good hit in." Regulus was going to lose his mind. “You are both insane,” he muttered.

“Thanks,” they said at the same time.

Regulus was already tired. He hadn’t even had breakfast yet. This was supposed to be a normal day. But no, his girlfriend had to pick a fight before 8 AM.

Merlin’s beard, this family was going to be the death of him.

Regulus was not built for this kind of stress. He ran a calloused hand through his pale face, cursing the gods for giving him a reckless bomb of a girlfriend when he once, pathetically, called upon them in his third year.

Meanwhile, Barty- who had been doubled over, laughing at Mulciber from the bed opposite the room, finally spoke, grinning.

“That was brilliant,” he told his sister. “Merlin, I love you. This is why you’re my favorite sibling.”

“You don’t have any other siblings,” Regulus pointed out dryly.

“Exactly!” Barty beamed.

On Godrick's balls, was he tired.

He sat next to your bed, watching as Madam Pomfrey fussed over your arm. The hex had done more than break the bone- it had burned through your sleeve (from your brand new robes, if you might add), leaving angry red scorch marks trailing down your shoulder.

You were delighted by this, and he was flabbergasted.

“I bet it’ll scar,” you said excitedly. “That’s wicked, am I right?”

Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose. “No. It’s not wicked. It’s downright idiotic.”

Madam Pomfrey sighed, already immune to your nonsense. “You’ll be fine by morning, dear. But you’re staying here for now.”

That was fine. That was great, actually. What wasn’t great was the fact that Slughorn was already marching into the room, looking both concerned and exasperated.

Regulus immediately straightened, preparing himself for an hour (more like 10 minutes with the way that mustache of a man rambles) of scolding.

“Miss Crouch,” Slughorn sighed. “Another duel?”

“She started it,” Regulus said quickly, ever the dutiful boyfriend.

His girlfriend shot him a betrayed look. “Regulus!”

Slughorn shook his head. “Detention, I’m afraid.”

Regulus tilted his head, sliding into his usual charming demeanor. “Professor, surely you can’t punish someone who’s already suffered so much.”

Slughorn frowned. “She hexed Mulciber.”

Regulus offered a smile, smooth as silk, looking past the man to the occupied bed with said subject. “And he hexed her back. Quite viciously, I might add. The poor girl nearly lost consciousness in my arms. It was tragic, really.”

His girlfriend scoffed. “I was fine.”

Regulus nudged you sharply under the blanket. “You were barely breathing,” he said dramatically.

Slughorn looked hesitant. Regulus pushed harder.

“I carried her here myself,” he continued, voice just the right amount of pained. “Do you really think she deserves detention after such an ordeal?”

Slughorn sighed, rubbing his temples. “…Very well. But no more dueling.”

Regulus smiled, victorious. “Of course, Professor.” Slughorn gave them one last weary look before leaving.

The second he was gone, you gaped at him “You are actually insane,” you said scandalized and eyes wide.

Regulus smirked. “You’re welcome. Perhaps we can star our mornings not risking our lives and you know, go to the great hall like normal witches, hm?"

You only beamed up to him, leaning back against the pillows. “You love me.”

Regulus exhaled, already exhausted again.

“…Tragically, yes. I do”

[haerenven]

TYPA GIRL

Zoro’s ideal woman is not defined by fleeting preferences or superficial attractions. He is a man of unwavering resolve, one who walks a path carved by discipline and will. The woman who captures his heart would not be delicate, nor would she bend to the world around her—she would be a force in her own right, a presence unshaken by hardship. Strength, to him, is not just about power but about endurance, about the ability to stand firm when the weight of the world presses down. A woman who sharpens herself like a blade, who refuses to crumble under pressure, would earn his admiration without effort.

A warrior’s spirit calls to him, whether it manifests in the way she wields a sword, commands a battlefield, or simply holds her ground with quiet defiance. He has never been drawn to fragility—he has known strength since childhood, first in Kuina, whose skill outmatched his own, and later in the powerful women he has encountered on his journey. The lesson has never left him: skill, determination, and the will to push past one’s limits are what truly matter. A woman who trains beside him, who doesn’t falter in the face of exhaustion, who challenges him without hesitation—that is the kind of woman who could carve her way into his heart.

Muscles? He wouldn’t care for them in the way others might, but if a woman bore the marks of her discipline—toned arms, the faint ripple of abs beneath her skin—he would notice. Not because he values appearance, but because he understands the effort behind it. Strength, after all, is something he recognizes before beauty. A woman whose body speaks of resilience, who carries herself with the quiet confidence of someone who knows her own power, would earn a lingering glance, perhaps even a smirk of approval. Yet, if she were soft, it wouldn’t matter. Strength is not measured in muscle alone, and he knows that well. It is found in presence, in the way a person endures, in the steadiness of their will.

Short hair—there’s something about it that strikes a chord within him. He wouldn’t consciously seek it out, nor would he turn away from a woman with long, flowing locks. But there’s an undeniable charm in a woman who carries herself with the confidence to wear her hair short. It’s practical, unburdened, free—like the women he has known who refuse to be weighed down. Perhaps it’s an echo of Kuina, or perhaps it’s the sheer simplicity of it, the way it frames the sharpness of a woman’s gaze. Whatever the reason, a pixie cut or a cropped style would not go unnoticed.

More than anything, Zoro is drawn to presence. A woman who doesn’t need to chase attention, who doesn’t demand admiration but earns it effortlessly. She doesn’t have to be loud or brash; in fact, he would likely prefer someone who doesn’t waste words on empty things. Someone who speaks with purpose, whose actions hold more weight than fleeting sentiments. A woman who doesn’t need him, who does not shrink herself for the sake of fitting into someone else’s expectations, but whose existence beside him feels natural—like two warriors walking the same path.

And if she can drink? If she can sit beside him, bottle in hand, and meet him in a contest of will, he might just find himself watching her a little too closely. Because strength isn’t just about fighting—it’s about enduring, about standing firm. A woman who can match him sip for sip without wavering, who can meet his gaze across the table without flinching, would command a level of respect he rarely gives freely. Not because he seeks competition, but because he understands what it means to endure—to hold one’s ground when the world tries to pull you under.

Above all, Zoro values a woman who walks her own path. A woman who does not bend for the sake of pleasing others. A woman who stands beside him not because she is waiting for him to turn toward her, but because her journey aligns with his. Not a follower, not an admirer, but an equal. That is the kind of woman who could slip past his walls, unnoticed at first—until one day, he realizes she has been beside him all along.

[thethreshold-if]

The Threshold IF

[DEMO (chapter 1 part 1/3 out) | BUG/ERROR REPORT]

The Threshold is an interactive fiction game made with Twine, inspired by works like Zero Escape and Danganronpa. It has horror and adventure elements, but it’s focused on characters and their relationships.

(CW) It’s rated +18 for mentions and depictions of violence, blood, death, abduction, explicit language, use of alcohol, and more (to be added as more content is released). Viewer discretion is advised.

SYNOPSIS.

You are an average person in their twenties living in a world where people like you are mysteriously disappearing. With little help and information from the authorities and governments, you are left to live as usual, ignoring any imminent danger. At your prime age, you thought your greatest worries would be the slow decay of the world, the questioning of its leaders, and the deteriorating living conditions with the passing of years, but you’re proven wrong when you are kidnapped, too.

Locked in a luxurious but ominous hotel, you are forced to face trials alongside six other people. Who abducted you and for what reason? What does the future hold with different organizations fighting for power over the world? And just how much is at stake when you play a twisted game without rules?

Whether you want it or not, welcome to the Threshold.

FEATURES.

Choose the MC’s gender, pronouns, appearance, personality, occupation, and more.

Romance or befriend, help or betray 6 different characters in their respective routes.

Use your wits to play through different games in order to escape alive.

Try to save the world, or ruin it.

CHARACTERS.

Alix Holden. (he/him)

Alix is loving and generous, but also anxious. Despite his timid demeanor, he doesn't hesitate to stand up for others when faced with injustice.

Alix's height is average and his body slim. His black hair is messy and neck-length, always falling on his blue eyes. He has very pale skin, with faint freckles across his cheeks and nose. He’s 25 years old.

Camila Evans. (she/they)

Young and joyful, Camila has the ability to light up any room she steps in. She sees the good in everyone, and nothing warms her heart more than making people smile. How else can you get through life if you aren't positive and don't patiently wait for the sun to go up after the storm? But their naivety and innocence won't help them when death is knocking on people's doors.

Camila is short and curvy, her skin light brown and her shaggy hair dyed honey blonde. They have round hazel eyes and a piercing on the right side of their nose. She’s 23 years old.

Han Taeri. (they/them)

Taeri is kind and soft-spoken, never hesitating to lend a helping hand. Their eyes, however, betray a distance, as if always burdened by something heavy in their mind.

Taeri has unblemished light skin, contrasted by their dark brown eyes and hair. They have a pixie cut with very short bangs, and a beauty mark below their right eye. They’re 24 years old.

John/Jane Doel. [f/m gender selectable]

J is mysterious and secretive, always seeming like they are acting. For some reason, they have taken a liking to you, following you around with a Cheshire smile ever present on their face. Whether they are hiding something, or even have a connection to the game, you'll have to work arduously to discover their true intentions.

Of average height and size, with beige skin and amber eyes, one could call their appearance unremarkable, except for their hair, which they dye white keeping its tips brown. M!J keeps it short and F!J past her shoulders. They also wear glasses, with a rectangular frame. They’re 24 years old.

Kayde Foster. (he/him)

Ever the charmer, Kayde has a way with people and words. With a disarming smile and a silver tongue, he can smoothly assume leadership without anyone noticing. Whether he's genuine or deceptive most of the time, it's hard to tell.

Kayde is tall with an athletic build. His skin is, deep brown and so are his almond-shaped eyes. His hair is dark and he keeps it very short, and he also has stubble. He’s 26 years old.

Megan Cooper. (she/her)

Serious and snarky, Megan never misses the chance to share a piece of her mind, often bluntly and with zero tact. If you want to get to know her vulnerable self, you will have to break through her impenetrable facade of confidence.

Tall and lean, with skin as golden as her long hair, which she often keeps in a high ponytail, Megan looks like a model. Her eyes are light green, and her skin is splashed with freckles. She’s 25 years old.

MISC.

The Threshold is a work in progress, so things will likely change as I write more content. This also means that saves might get corrupted, and you’ll have to start the game again. I’ll try my best to avoid this, but it can happen.

English is not my first language, so there might be grammatical errors and sentences that sound unnatural. Please report these in the link at the beginning of the post, if you can!

Updates will be slow. I’ll try my best to write as quickly as possible, but with work, college and life, and my ever lethargic disposition, I can’t promise much. I do this project for fun, so I don’t want to feel a lot of pressure when I engage with it. However, I’ll try to make monthly updates so you know how things are going.

Asks are open!

Credits for the wonderful dividers: Vinny Vistazo.

[miyasofzi]

Do you ever ever think about how Guy is the only one who TRULY understands Ramiris.

He knows what she went through and what she is going through (her reincarnation cycle). He defends her and has treated her as an equal despite being so strength obsessed. Guy does not respect those who are weak. He barely gives them the light of day. But ramiris, the weakest of the octagram in her current state, is his close friend. He threatened to kill his best friend (Leon) (who bro is literally attracted to) when he spoke poorly about Ramiris. Ramiris, who is largely shunned and underestimated, is perfectly understood by Guy. He looks past her cocky attitude. He knows who she once was. They stopped Milim together, after all. Ramiris sacrificed her prime for Milim and him. If Ramiris hadn't intervened. Hadn't taken in those corrupted magicules. Guy would have had to.

There's no way of knowing if that would have affected Guy in much capacity. But Guy was tired. He had fought Milim, a match, for seven days and nights. He might have lost. Or he could have won. There is really no way of knowing. Ramiris 'saved' them either way.

He knows that, despite Ramiris slowly degrading memory, she will always be herself and remember after each lifetime. He knows that she may not have the appearance, but she's still the same ramiris. People think Ramiris is stupid, but Guy knows she is one of the smartest. He let's her talk for hours on end. He let's her sit beside him. That's insane. Guy, the literal embodiment of pride, let's a tiny pixie sit beside him in the demon lord council.

The trust they hold with each other is also unbelievable. Guy trusted Ramiris with the decision to allow Rimuru to, basically, exist. She isn't scared of Guy either, like how most people are. Sure, she had said that "Guy is the only demon lord I won't fight" in a fearful-ish way. But that wasn't the fright that Guy often instils. She isn't scared of him. She isn't in fear of ticking him off.

Ramiris has no qualms going straight towards Guy during Walpurgis. She bickers with him. Guy wouldn't ever allow someone to talk like that to him. Except Ramiris.

They know each other. He knows her not as the Spirit Queen or as the annoying pixie, but as Ramiris. She knows him not as Demon Lord Guy Crimson but as Guy.

I really truly believe that they're eachothers actual best friends. Guy would fight Leon, his supposed best friend. He would not fight Ramiris. Rimuru often underestimates Ramiris and treats her as an aloof child. Guy doesn't. At least, not internally.

Guy has teased, of course. Rimuru does recognise Ramiris as a smart and useful person. But it's easily inferable that Rimuru still knows her as, well, annoyingly childish to most people.

Ramiris is the only person who can treat Guy the way she does. The only others that have been shown to be able to are Milim and MAYBE Leon. Leon has shoved Guy, a playful gesture for Guy, even in Leon's annoyance. But to bicker and contradict Guy, the way Ramiris does takes a lot. Their friendship isn't just that. But it's a connection. Ramiris and Guy are immortal and ancient, who both respected Veldanava, who both treated his daughter as one of them, who are two of three ancient DLs.

Ramiris was never a proper demon lord to begin with. She is unable to evolve into a True DL like rimuru or milim. She doesn't have the strength like Leon or Dagruel. She joined the council because of the respect Guy had for her. The gratitude he had for her.

Satan's best friend is a small pixie. The Spirit Queen's best friend is a demon.

[thejack-ofalltrades]

WITCHLIGHT EP 58 (the newest one)

⚠️SPOILERS ⚠️

I love talking about all the things that had me dying so here we go

When figuring out who should sit on the chair, Gideon said he thought kremy was also thinking about them putting the child on the chair.

Gideon said he's been strapped down and shocked for fun before (not beating those masochist allegations gid) and kremy trying to hush gid and to "not tell people that"

Frost being very salty/petty with gideon even though torbek confessed to being the first person to throw a rock lmao.

Frost saying they should bludgeon gideon with rocks

Gricko being smaller than the kid

Gricko and gid fighting over who would go into the hole/cave (gricko calling gid a bitch and gid going first out of anger lmao)

Frost not wanting to help gid when he got stuck

Kremy trying to push gid through with his cane

The Lil frost backstory/info we get between him and torbek (with being open to talk about what torbek has seen cause frost has also seen it)

Gideon telling them to send either gricko or frost through next (knowing there's spiders cause he's annoyed with them lmao)

Kremy knowing gideons lying about there not being spiders

Kremy REFUSING to go in because of spiders

Kremy arguing with his shadow

Kremys shadow scaring off the spiders (whole scene was just cool)

Torbek raising a hand to be called on and kremy really trying to look anywhere but at him

The (Yawn) yon joke >that Derek has made multiple times but was acknowledged when mikey did it lmao<

Kremy being fae cursed to be the embodiment of greed (nothing changed)

The troll toll (that whole scene was really really funny) and torbek punching gricko in the face

Gid being fae cursed to coughing up blood and kremy being really worried about him and talking about them retiring in Tahiti

The flower wiping blood off gids face and gid saying "thanks, you probably have something now" and "I'd shake ur hand but I'm extremely confident on where I'd been so I won't do it" (mace leaning Gideon into being way more of a sex pest than before has me in tears went from lady's man who sleep around to openly talking about kinks and making dirty jokes and I love it)

Torbeks tent being ass (even though it's suppose to be whatever they want it to be >poor guy might not think he deserves good things or maybe he's unlucky<)

The talking toilet makes a return (poor frost)

Then everything in frosts tent being alive

Pixie wives mentioned and Gideons protection joke in refrence to the fae (condom joke) and gricko asking about busty lmao

Kremys haggling for the tents and gricko messing it up and almost loosing hootsie

Frost going back unto his tent "I'm back everyone"

Kremy buying the tents with teeth and nails

Kremy asking gricko how badly he wants the tent when they need more teeth and gid already cracking his knuckles

Gricko taking forever to answer and kremy "gid would you kindly" "Well, here we go" from gid before punching gricko

Gricko sounding like the Don after getting teeth punched out

Quinoa getting stuck in grickos gum holes

Dame of unhappy endings >everyone saying to each other to be cool< and trying not to laugh or make jokes and failing

There's still no French dressing sauce

Being told the witch has shears that can separate you from ur shadow and kremy looking down "you hear that?" To his own shadow

Kremys akwardness talking about how it's rare to see people who can control shadows and whatnot (this arc will be peak for kremy, I can just feel it)

[florvaine]

— heavy is the crown !

It’s not often Bakugo gets a minute to rest, especially since he started travelling.

fantasy au: bakugo x kirishima x fem!reader warnings: fluff/general, not much dialogue it's a lot of big words SORRYY a/n: this is me doing a bit of worldbuilding for a bigger fic i'm writing lol

w/c: 1.1k

(art by @/milmil on twt!)

For the first few weeks it was strange being nomadic.

Bakugou was not accustomed to being on the move having been coddled by his father to try to find an outlet to his anger and held close by his mother as she showed her inflexible way of ruling their Tribe. Though she had her strange way of showing it, Mitsuki cared for him and deep down he knew that.

She had sent him and his Dragonborn - Kirishima - on his Trial later than he was expecting. For centuries, those seeking Furtherance took their leave from the tribe towards the backend of winter to try to complete the journey before the next hit.

"You're taking control of this clan once I depart, you'll need to be prepared for the fervor of a volcano," She had muttered whilst holding his face, thick paint of flora and fauna staining her fingertips.

The sun beat down heavily, especially in the kingdom of Draconix, when Mitsuki had seen him off with a kiss to the crown of his head and a blessed amber amulet hung around his neck. The Singe fur on his cloak quickly became troublesome throughout the start of the journey, sweat clinging to his forehead and along the contours of his torso.

Along the way, they encountered someone else, a stray traveler trying to get to a faraway village to complete their own mission. At the time you had been fighting tooth and nail to escape a group of bandits you had already roughed up. With a single activation of his magic, Kirishima scared them scampering into the throng of deciduous trees.

It only took you passing out from a hit to your head from before and Kirishima's nagging to convince Bakgou to take you along. The place you mentioned to be traversing to was along the way to where they were planned to be, so at the next stop he reluctantly spent more of his coin to get more rations of dried fruits and meat.

With every sunset you got closer, meeting old and making new friends who shared stories about the blonde in so much detail you felt as if you had been beside him his whole life.

Between the inn rooms that the three of you yearned for, Bakugou wouldn't hesitate to take the longest shift of night watch in fear of Kilmonges, thieves or worse. He'd keep his ungodly hefty swords on either side of him and refused help throughout the day. He took the burden of navigating by map, noticing if anyone strayed off the given path.

But you could see it.

The usual confident steps became sluggish and slow-tempo, the furrow in his brows just the slightest bit too taught. His shoulders hung with the heavy weight of being, ultimately, responsible for not only Kirishima but another person who he hadn't even predicted to join the voyage. Sometimes he was so deep in thought that you could practically hear his doubt and nonsensical strings of words.

It came to a head just after everyone had narrowly escaped a hunting hoard of spruce spiders. Nasty, colossal species of arachnid with hair-like quills that could dwarf half-grown spruce trees.

The sun had begun to retreat behind the horizon of towering trees and sprawling mountains. In the distance ahead, a collection of cliffhanging houses light up as people strike runes for thir lanterns.

The temperate forest you had all settled into was home to the fearful - spineless pixies and fanged deer who refused to harm others. The leaves ranged from dusty cool tones and tough bark, roots crawling over the edges of a path created of multicolour sea glass. The fleeting rays remaining from the sun reflect off of each coloured crystal and refracting in a mesmerising flow like silken robes dancing in the wind.

The grass was stocky here and had a strange adaptation, as the sunlight was often obscured by the thick overhang of unwavering trees, and were near transparent to the point they were blue from taking in water and minerals. Picking a blade would release a small pocket of potable water.

Dinner was fire-smoked salmon, sparkling sourdough bread with ghoulberry jam and a wide array of fruits - blackberries, starstriked strawberries, blood oranges and crisp apples. You didn't mention the way Bakugou picked at the bandage around his upper arm, over the protective band of warm ink.

Smoke tickled your nose as you took in the familiar scent and cooling breeze, a much accepted respite from the direct contact with the sun in Rokopi. You and Kirishima had been babbling away from either side of the now dwindling fire, flames flickering to dormancy a while after the moon had awoken.

The diminishing flames highlighted the contours and protruding structures of each others visages, foxy colours cast over the high points of Kirishima's nose, chin and lips and the cheekbones and lowered forehead of Bakugou.

"Is he finally asleep?" You mumble, your eyes falling on the slack body of the blonde.

Kirishima stops his rant about his harpy friend Mina and turns his attention to his travel partner. His chest rose steadily underneath his layers of woven traditional necklaces. The body paint he was typically on top of washed off from a spring, leaving behind pale strips of his natural skin tone beside sun-kissed expanses of muscle. His cape, hefty and expelling warmth, was collapsed in a pile behind him and he leaned back on it, the fire licking at the spikey strands of thin gold.

Bakugou's generous helping of lashes airily rested on his cheekbones, his face void of the typical scrunching you had assigned to him. Shoulders slumped, but not with the weight of the world anymore. Now it was the weight of the air behind him, softly carving along the muscles of his strained back in a strange massage that relaxed him.

The redhead let a smile cast itself onto his face, "About time - he hasn't fully rested since we began our journey."

In the minutes to follow, you and Kirishima had gotten as close to the blonde as you could ('strength in numbers, it's what flegdlings do in the Tribe,') to doze like the barbarian. His crimson wing outstretched to cover Bakugou's and your backs from the forest and to preserve body heat. Though you knew Kirishima was just feeling a twinge clingier than usual.

Hell, he hadn't meant to fall asleep to the two of you meandering conversations, but there was something so... comforting about it.

He never admitted that though, lest Kirishima would actually talk his ear straight off the side of his head.

[elodieunderglass]

I was digging through the old Killie-posting at the reminder of a recent ask (it's fun reading the older stuff now that you've thoroughly Gotten Me and I'm invested), and I wanted to ask: there's a mention in a post talking about Thunder and Killie's relationship that "the thing about Thunder is he’s the one who started it when you do the psychic-plugging-in-thing with him, he makes you a slightly worse person, and Killie’s already awful" (you, a month ago)

and. is that. is that why Killie bites people. and also why does Killie bite people. and also please talk more about Killie biting people???

(Killie the jockey OC, who has a bit of a nipping problem, and this post about his beautiful relationship with O Holy Thunder.)

Ah, unfortunately for everyone, Killie’s impulses to biting and kicking are because he is a wild horse predate his rancid racehorse frenemy.

Picture this: Republic of Ireland, the 1990s, around the time of the ceasefire. You have an English mother, ginger hair and the build of a half-starved pixie, which despite the context of everyone knowing you’re a member of the fifth generation of a large and well-known family of jockeys, is still small as hell. You are the pride and joy of your father’s heart, and he loves you, but also hits you with a jockey’s whip, because he loves you. Your mother seems alarmed by reminders of your existence and seems to wish that she hadn’t had children at all. You are the Oldest and responsible for the others, but do not really understand them. You and your twin see people’s deaths sometimes maybe. You live with horses and can read their minds, but you are also told not to love them, because they aren’t yours. It’s rural and everyone’s broke and you have a stammer. You are good at two things: maths, and horses, but people persist in talking to you about other things regardless. In a Catholic country you are so bad at Catholicism that you fuck up your own first communion. You are violently, relentlessly, unspeakably competitive. You already have the prided imperviousness to pain and toughness of constitution that will make you a champion. You are, it must be said, extraordinarily tiny.

And then people expect you to go to school about it. Where you are autistic in a way detectable to every schoolchild wishing to start an early bullying career in unenlightened times.

So the first time someone tries something, you don’t understand; and your father tells you to come back with his blood on your mouth. So the next time someone tries something, you simply get him on the floor and try to take his ear off. Simple. Clear. Elegant. Sorts everything out. People make too much fuss about things, really.

You develop a fairly vile temper and tendency to fight first, rather than trying to interpret the nuance of how people are trying to tease you.

You grow up into a sport in a time where a certain amount of scuffling went on in the changing rooms. That was how it’s always been.

In the column of Things On Your Side, you have an identical twin, who has somehow managed to fill in every gap, do all the talking, drag you through the worst bits and somehow include you in things like Having Friends. Much like an emotional support dog for a cheetah, you share the burden of emotional regulation with him, and fight for each other, and communicate constantly. And then he goes.

You are 4’10, and a champion athlete, always angry, impervious to pain, and will do anything to win…

And you also bite the horses on the ear sometime. Old and problematic horse handling trick.

Thunder started it.

[joydoesathing]

Hi, do you have some Raffael and Ann's / Arlenne and Glen's headcanons (P.S You rule!)

Why yes, yes I do. Here comes a

DOUBLE (QUADRUPLE?) HC SPECIAL ✨✨

The Schmichts

They met each other around the early 1930s in New York

The suppressed realist and his manic pixie dream girl baddie™️

Can definitely put up a fight, if needed

Arlene helps Glenn let loose from his close-minded thinking and Glenn Arlene the stable support and validation she needs in those occasional times after she gets wearied out from staying positive 24/7 despite the unfriendly society.

Arlene

A friendly woman who seems to be off in her own world at times

A really good observer and can remember and describe things in detail

Her works and publications are mostly nonfiction but she does occasionally write fictional short stories, both of which are mostly based on real-life horrors the world could offer at the time including those she has experienced and witnessed way back then

She was born in the South and originally worked in a factory in the but later on quit then migrated North with her family to escape the especially nasty hate in the South and later on pursue her budding passion for writing

Despite knowing she's almost definitely going to be put down no matter where she goes, she has steeled her resolve and continues persevering

Glenn

A conformist with a usually no-nonsense personality

Can be a bit hard for him to say how he actually thinks and feels (suppressed man™️)

Having had to work tooth and nail in school and in work to get to where he is right now, all the while being beat down with countless insults and learning the extreme race biases, he has developed the mindset that, even though he's extremely good at his job, he always needed to keep his head low and not step out of line ,lest he would get put out of his job for he knows how precarious his position is.

After meeting Arlene, he did become noticeably more relaxed and smiles more often

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

The Cappuccins

They first met in the 1920s in New York ( yes another New York mention, but trust me, I have my reasons XD)

Tall ex-gangster husband and lawyer wifey™️

"I fear no man, but that, *points at Ann*, she frightens me." -Raf

A criminal and a lawyer, getting together? How did it happen? The power of love 💕💕💕

Ann

She comes from a wealthy English family known in a good amount of socialite circles

Quite graceful, crazy intelligent, has impeccable manners and an eloquent way of speaking

She decided to slowly distance away from her family when she was first starting of her career. Ever the ambitious woman she was, she wanted to try to stand independently and make a name for herself.

When she started dating Raffael, she was well-aware that he was part of a gang but she had already fallen for him and was willing to believe that he could change (and he did)

Raffael

Tall, intimidating and quite short-tempered, but a big softie when it comes to those he loves

Back then when he was a teenager he formed a street gang with some of his buddies to earn some money for himself and his parents (they weren't very well-off)

He then quit his gangster life to settle down with Ann for both her and his buddies' safety

He's actually softened a lot after getting married and even visits his parents time to time talk about his life.

From crime hardened gangster to uncle who just chills around in Hawaiian shirts

[cabi-leodrann]

hi!! hello!! I've read throw the thab comic this morning and it got me audible gasping and saying "my god it's so good why is it so good it's" out loud, absolute 10/10 reading experience thank you thank you you made my day honestly

my question is this – is there anything you'd like to infodump about in thab au (characters, lamb's past, wordbuilding details, that fact that narinder's third eye seems to be much more emotional and honest than narinder himself)? I've skimmed through tags and didn't find that mush info (outside the comic itself) and im very intrigued, so maybe you'd like to share anything! it would be cool!! if not that's cool too, i hope you have a good day<3

hrvnuhrg Thank you so much! I can't wait for the comic to continue and see yours and everybody else's reaction =D And even then, it's a bonus, knowing you like the project is already very cool ngl For the info-dump! A lot of what you put in parenthesis will be brought up in the comic, and I'm the kind of mf that likes to keep surprises >=3

BUT

I can give you THaB's cast! Not everyone is here, because some characters are not very important and/or not very developed. As a bonus tho, you'll get everyone's name in the Lamb's conlang I made =D

COtL characters:

Lamb and Nari! The two most important characters of the comic! Since the bullshit revolve around their relationship. No anecdote for them, because everything can be spoiler-

It comes as a surprise to no one I think, but the bishops will be there =D Fun fact, in this image, I put them from younger to older, based on one of the co-writter (@wowowhy) head-canon that the more eyes the bishops have, the older the are! Making Narinder the middle child-

Mystic Seller, Claunek and Ratau wont be seen very often! They'll have more of a technical roles in the story. Giving key information, giving state of things. But I try to keep wiggle room in the writing, so things might change!

THaB characters:

Lamb's disciples! Put from older to youngest. Salky is Lamb's right hand. She was the Hathor demon in Nari's fight! Loki loves to look for frogs from time to time. Deimos sometime sneak some alcohol from his bar-tending job. Pixie likes to drink a cup of tea when she get the time. Nimwé goes to the cemetery pretty often to change the flowers of the graves.

Have some of the followers we'll see! Litsy loves everyone (to everyone's dismay). We saw him as an Orcus demon during Narinder's fight! Purna likes how lively her kitchen get when it's time to prepare dinner. We saw her as a Vesta demon earlier! Nysus is the self appointed resource manager of the flock. But some people would just call them a thief. Meralon, the flock undertaker, he is also Gérard drinking buddy. Gérard is the unluckiest person you could ever found in the Land of the Old Faith, which makes him a very good janitor.

I might reblog this post to put more characters in the future, stay tuned!

[luizd3ad]

Music Notes | Barty Crouch Jr x Reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ࣪˖⤷ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ࣪ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ⤷

Pairing: Rockstar!Barty x GN!Rockstar!Reader WC: 3,471 CW:  Soulmate AU, Rockstar AU, 2010's AU, use of Y/N, mentions of anxiety, swearing Author's Note: This is one of those fics where I'm my own target audience but if you read this I really hope you like it. Also I feel like Pandora get kinda out of character at the end but I just idk I felt like it was necessary. Summary: You meat your soulmate during the best summer of your life.

Volume:■■■■■■■■■■□□

Everyone is born with a symbol of something that you and your soulmate(s) will have in common along with their initials, and when you look into their eyes for the first time your soulmark is supposed to tingle. 

The symbol could be literally anything, it could be related to your career, a hobie, a passion or in your case all the above. For as long as you could remember you've had a music note and the initials BCJ on your wrist.

But for the longest time you were confused by your soulmark, you weren't really interested in music. I mean you liked listening to it as much as the next person but not enough to make it your soulmark.

That was until you were twelve and you met Jade. She was just so outgoing and bubbly, she made friends easily, she'd walk into a room and demand attention without even trying and she soon started showing you all these bands and artists you'd never heard of. Jade changed everything for you, she showed you a side of music you didn't know existed. And all of a sudden, you were hooked.

You became so inthralled by the music that the initial next to the note paled in comparison, you hardly thought about your soulmate because as far as you were concerned music was your soulmate. 

When you were fourteen Jade introduced you to Sammy. Sammy was a pretty shy, and quiet kid but once he was comfortable he'd talk your ear off for hours. That's how he continued to expand your love for music. Not only did he tell you about more bands and artists that ranged outside of the emo, pop punk scene, but he showed you shows, concerts. 

You, Jade and Sammy would go to any show you could. House shows, backyard gigs, if there was a guitar riff and a mosh pit the three of you were there. And that's how you met Pink.

Now Pink’s real name was Floyd but he liked being called Pink. Which you always thought was funny considering he was the strong, silent type, so the name completely contradicted his personality but he liked David Bowie so who were you to judge? Pink was your tipping point. He was a beast on the drums, you and Sammy would sit there and listen to him play all day. Which somehow led to Pink convincing your little group that you guys could make a band, a killer band at that.

And surprisingly he wasnt fucking wrong thus ‘Fighting Pixies’ was born.

C. Summer of 2012

It was the first day of Warped Tour and you couldn't be more excited. You were so excited that you didn't even care that you were in some random arena parking lot sweating your ass off in Utah. 

Not only was this Fighting Pixies first year playing Warped Tour but you were on a main stage you were going to be playing on the same stage as the bands you grew up listening to. To say the feeling was surreal would be an understatement. This is what you, Jade, Sammy and Pink have been working towards for years, you guys were finally playing the festival that you would go to every summer. 

Walking out of the bus you started making your way to the catering tent by yourself since the rest of the band left you behind because you were apparently in Pinks’ words ‘taking too goddamn long’. You roll your eyes at his words thinking how it's bullshit that they could just leave you like that, when all the sudden you collide with someone. 

“Oh shit I'm so sorry dude.”

“You alright mate?”

You and the mystery person that you just basically assaulted said at the same time. Finally after gaining your balance you look at your victim. 

“Siri?” You say raising your eyebrow when he finally looks your way with a big smile on his face.

“Oh shit Y/N! How are you? I havent seen you in fucking ages!” Sirius yells while bringing you into a hug, you hug him back laughing then pulling away.

“I've been good. I haven't seen you since you, Rem and James came to one of our shows. Is he here?” You ask, looking around hoping to catch sight of Remus.

“No not yet, he's back home with Reg, Lily and Harry. But they'll be joining us for the last few shows.”

You couldn't help but let out a little laugh. “Baby's first Warped Tour? I like it, gotta start them young.”

Sirius laughed at you, the two of you then continued on your way to the catering tent. Luckily with no further incidents.

You and the rest of Fighting Pixies met Sirius a few years ago when he collabed on a song with you guys, you also had gotten to meet James a few times during the recording process. You hadn't met the rest of ‘Beyond London’ yet, but James had made it very clear that you and their bassist, Pandora, would become fast friends. 

But you hadn’t heard much about their guitarist, Barty, except in passing from mutual friends. Sirius would complain about him sometimes but in typical lead singer fashion Sirius had a tendency to be dramatic so you never really took anything he said about Barty to heart.

Eventually you and Sirius got to the catering tent. You found your band, James and a girl you recognized as Pandora sitting at a table together. 

“Well if it isn't the second best drummer on Warped Tour.” You say with a teasing smile sitting across from James. James just laughs and shakes his head. While pink has a small smug look on his face. 

“What? So Pink’s the best drummer on tour?” James raises his eyebrow at you with a goofy smile still on his face. 

You laugh and shake your head. “No, not even close, Angelo is clearly the best drummer here. Have you heard Motionless in White’s breakdowns?” Pink then glared at you while scoffing. What? Someone has to bring his ego down.

After a few hours of making fun of each other, hanging out, watching a few bands sets and getting to know Pandora (who is literally the sweetest person ever) you and the rest of your band had to go back to the bus to get ready for your set in a few hours.

You got to get into the shower after Jade so after your shower and skin routine you walked out into the common area plopping down at the table so you could start to get your hair and other things done. 

“Dude when you were in the bathroom Sirius came over and brought Barty, dudes funny. You missed out.” Sammy said, sitting down next to you eating a bowl of cereal.

“Damn. Well I have a whole summer to run into him at some point.” You shrug, getting all your stuff out to get ready.

You actually really wanted to meet Barty based on what little you had heard about him over the years, the fact that he was one hell of a guitarist, and you'd never admit this to anymore but you were really attracted to him. Based purely off the pictures you've seen of him.

You had a lot of respect for him as a musician, you could recognize the emotions that he put into each riff, solo, hell just a strum and you could tell what he was feeling.

A part of you found it frustrating that after all these years of knowing Sirius and James you had always seemed to miss Barty, sometimes by literal minutes.

The rest of your band had met him in passing, never more than a ‘hi’ or ‘hey’ but still they've met him. 

So you couldn't help but be a little frustrated at the fact that for one of the only times that day where you weren't around your band they actually got to hang out with him. You don't know why it bothered you so much, I mean you couldn't even be upset with anyone in particular. It's literally no one's fault. So why did it bother you so much?

Eventually you and the rest of Fighting Pixies found yourselves waiting backstage to go on when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned to see your new favorite blond girl. 

“Hi Pandora. What's up?”

“Hi. I just came to watch the beginning of your set. I won't be able to stay long, by the time you lot get off we'll have just started our set.” Pandora explains with her signature tooth rotting smile. 

“Aw thanks, I was actually planning on heading to your guys' set when we're done here.”

“Yes, you should!” Pandora stood up straighter with a sense of excitement and urgency about something you didn't understand, but you just thought that it was Pandora being Pandora. 

You had heard over the years that she would do or say things that didn't make much sense to really anyone so you chose to just brush it off.

“Oh I also wanted to give you theses.” Pandora says while handing you two rocks.

You take the rocks confused with a raised eyebrow. “Thanks, but what are they?”

“The orange one is citrine and the pink one is rose quartz. They're meant to bring you good luck, just put them in your pocket and they'll do their job.” Pandora says with a knowing type of smile, that once again confused you but you just nodded and put them in your pocket choosing not to question the blond.

“Y/N come on, it's time to go.” One of the stage hands says passing you your guitar. You just nodded, putting the strap over your head.

“Well I hope you like our set and I'll see you at yours.” You chuckled a little as she just nodded.

You would think after all of these years of doing this you'd be used to it at this point. That you would be used to being on stage, that the anxiety of fucking up would be gone but it didn’t go away, lessened yeah but not gone. 

You also never really get used to people singing lyrics that you wrote or helped write, especially when the words were sentimental to you at one point, but it was kind of nice to know that those words are sentimental to others now too.

You wouldn't trade this for the world. You were lucky and you knew that, so many people would kill for this chance so you didn't take it for granted.

Thirty minutes later you and your band mates were running off stage sweaty and high off adrenaline with big smiles on your faces’ your first show at your first warped tour was beyond amazing it was fucking perfect you were convinced nothing could top this feeling.

You started to make your way to Beyond London’s set. The rest of the band had other sets or people that they wanted to see so you went your separate ways for the time being. 

Eventually you made it to the stage Beyond London was playing at. You had stopped a few times to talk to people and take pictures but luckily not too many people stopped you so you made it when they started to play their last song.

After all the years you had known Sirius and James you had never actually got the chance to see them play. To say they were amazing felt like the understatement of the century. 

James looked like he was in his element on the drums, Pandora was so focused on her bass but that didn't stop her from swinging herself around, Sirius had basically every person either swooning because of his looks or crying because of how beautiful his voice was and then there was Barty. 

Just the sight of him alone made your heart skip a beat, you had never seen such raw emotion while someone played the guitar. Once your eyes landed on him you couldn't, you wouldn't, look away. The way he moved, how he would throw his head back every so often, sometimes you could see his jaw clench, you could tell he put his all into the music. You had never seen something so amazing. So perfect.

The song ended and they all started to make their way to the side of the stage you were on, Barty sayed a little longer then his band mates throwing things like his picks and set lists into the crowd. 

You were brought into a bear hug and spun around by a very sweaty Sirius. You shrieked and tried to push yourself away from him to no avail.

“Sirius Black if you don't put me down right now I'll make sure you never play another show again!” You screamed threatened while continuing your best efforts to get away from your sweaty attacker. Suddenly you hear a gasp and you're put down very quickly, almost falling while Sirius scoffs and mutters something about ‘Some people’. 

Pandora came to your rescue making sure you’re okay. You were about to scold Sirius for almost making you fall, but he was already out of sight. Pandora turned you around to have you look at her. 

You looked at her very surprised with your eyebrows raised. “What is up with the manhandling right now?” you laugh slightly awkwardly. 

“Do you still have the crystals I gave you?” Pandora asks with a serious face completely ignoring your question. 

You furrowed your brows and nodded still very confused. “Considering you gave them to me a little over an hour ago, yes. I know we don't know each other very well but have some faith in me Pandora.” You once again laughed a little trying to ease the little tension that seemed to form.

Pandora just smiled at you and hugged you and whispered. “I'm so happy for you two.”

You pulled away and looked at her once again beyond confused. “What-”

You were then interrupted by James yelling over to you. “Y/N, come meet Barty, finally.” Pandora kept smiling at you and then she just nodded at you encouragingly. For what felt like the hundredth time that day Pandora confused you and you once again just chalked it up to Pandora being Pandora.

While making your way over to the three men that stood in a little circle probably talking about the show that they just put on, you were hit with a sudden wave of anxiety. 

Why were you anxious? You had been fine (other than the major confusion you went through with Pandora)  so why does it feel like your heart is going a mile a minute.

Sirius and James are facing you while Barty’s back is towards you. As soon as you're in arms length Sirius wraps his arm around your shoulder pulling you close to him.

“Barty, this is Y/N. Y/N, Barty.” James says motioning between you two.

“Hi, it's nice to finally-” You cut yourself off when you looked into his eyes, feeling a tingle on your writs.

Your whole life you've heard stories about what meeting your soulmate felt like. How all of a sudden everything seemed less important. How you would only want to focus on that person. How you'd feel like you had a new meaning to life. Honestly you thought it was all bullshit. 

But now you knew that, that was all an understatement. 

You finally felt like you were home, like everything would be okay. It felt like breathing for the first time. 

You could play a million more shows, meet your idols, win a fucking Grammy and nothing would compare to what you were feeling when you met his eyes. And based on the look on his face, Barty felt the same way.

“Hi.” You whispered still in a shocked state.

“Hi, angel.” Barty said softly with a love sick look on his face, your heart skips a beat at the nickname and you can't help but smile. He suddenly moved his eyes to Sirius and glared at him. “You'll move your arm if you know what's good for you, Black.” 

Sirius moved his arm away from around you and put his hands up in surrender, you actually forgot Sirius and James were there let alone that Sirius had an arm wrapped around you.

You hadn't thought about your soulmate in years. You didn't ever think you'd meet them, and a part of you didn't really care if you did honestly. As long as you had your music and friends you were fine, that's what you thought at least. It was crazy how in one moment that whole mindset could change.

Now you couldn't imagine a life without Barty. You didn't want to imagine a life without him. 

For so long music was your number one priority, you didn't care about much else but now this person that you just met became your number one. It felt insane and crazy but you couldn't help it and a big part of you loved it. 

You and Barty found yourselves sitting in Beyond London's tour bus talking during the almost eight hour drive from Salt Lake City to Denver. You two just talked about your lives, childhoods, things you loved, things you hated, everything. 

He told you about his Father who you now hated almost as much as Barty. Barty had the biggest smile on his face when you told him how you felt about his father in extreme detail after the stories he told you.

Eventually you both noticed the buses pulling into a new arena parking lot while the sun was rising. Both of you knew you had to go back to your bus now, you had sets and meet and greets later that day. You needed some kind of energy. 

Barty with a cheeky smile insisted that you just join him in his bunk, you just responded with an eye roll and a ‘You wish’ which earned you a ‘You have no idea’.

Barty ended up walking you to your bus, you and him stood outside of the bus talking and stalling, not wanting to leave each other yet.

“Barty, I have to go. We need to get some sleep.” You were looking down at your hands together knowing one you needed to let go but not wanting to.

“I know angel, I know.” He gave you a sad smile as if he would never see you again. 

Barty was often scared that all of this was just a dream. That one day he would wake up back in his fathers clutches and his life as a rockstar was just a dream, it always scared him. But now in his mind it wasn't only his life as a rockstar at stake but you and that now terrified him. He had admitted this to you while you were talking that night so you didn't blame him for being hesitant. You just hugged him trying to reassure him.

“You can come over when you wake up Barty. Don't hesitate, I don't care if I'm awake or asleep. I just know that if you stay we're not gonna get any sleep.” Barty pulls away from you with a smirk and raised eyebrows, you just hit his chest and roll your eyes. “Not like that. I just mean we'll stay up talking.”

He just laughs and kisses your forehead. “I know what you meant, angel, just like teasing you is all.” He pulls you against him resting his chin on your head. “Is it bad to say I'll miss you? Even if I know it's just a few hours.”

“It's not bad because I'll miss you too.” You whisper against him. 

After a moment he pulls away again looking down at you he moves his hand to hold the side of your face, cressing you cheek with his thumb. You leaned into his touch with a small smile on your face looking up at him.

“You are now the most important thing in my life now, my angel.” He's looking deep into your eyes, not a hint of lies or regret in his words.

Barty started to lean down with a sense of hesitation, you just nodded and smiled at him letting him know it was okay. You could feel butterflies in your stomach while your heart started to race. The moment your lips touched you felt electricity run through your veins. You never experienced such an amazing feeling, you were two puzzle pieces finally coming together. You already knew Barty was your everything but that kiss solidified it. It made it real in the best way possible, you knew you couldn't ask for a better soulmate.

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