#Uh oh bad decision mark

[artzstartist]

Here’s some Mandela Catalogue Fanart! I loved drawing these so much (I’ve plunged head-first back into the fandom lol)!!

[bowerzinsides]

TW! ⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️BLOOD BITCH- THERES BLOOD

The only reason I made her suffer is because- I wanted to make Howdy look bad. Yes. He did drive her coo coo.

Uh oh! Bad decision Sally!

Haw haw. *Mark Heathcliff’s your Sally Starlet*

Yeah, she took off a piece of her- I dunno- Sun blade and- Throat go bye bye- Also she hit a vein. Internal bleeding.

[0nl0n]

encounter and think z-mixes. I love/like em so much osnwke (getting into Mandela catalogue more lmao)

here is a random Mandela catalogue Au doodle :D 👍

[lyss-butterscotch]

Thinking about phrases that 100% will summon one specific fandom

Wawawawawawawawa

You can punch your bullets

Heart lungs liver nerves

Bafanada

Wavedash

Ehe te nandayo

The broom closet ending is my favourite

My god. My universe.

Where's everyone going? Bingo?

Oyasumi

AHAHAHAHHAHAA..... FOOOOOOLLLSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!

Uh Oh. Bad decision Mark!

Quadrants.

OBJECTION! HOLD IT!

We don't talk about Love Town

More stuff will be added the more i remember the fandoms ive been a part of shdjkasda <- shit memory

[holdmytesseract]

Okay so I saw your post asking for an idea with Daryl in season one of his show, so here goes:

Reader is also American, who has been with the nuns for a while. Five years, maybe. She went looking for something (you can decide what!) and ended up stranded in France. Naturally, she picked up French and sort of became a translator for Daryl. One day, maybe when they’re at the school with all the kids and the sick teacher, the kids can see the way Daryl looks at reader, and vice versa, and they’re continuously teasing them about it. Daryl obviously doesn’t understand what they’re saying, but he figures it out by the way reader acts all shy and bashful and suddenly can’t look him in the eye when the kids are around. The ending is totally up to you!

Idk this is a silly idea. You don’t have to write this if you don’t want to, ofc. I love and appreciate you regardless 💜

He loves me - he loves me not... 🌼

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: When a strange man suddenly stumbles into your life, you didn't think much of it. Until you had to admit to yourself that you had fallen in love with him - and it didn't stay unrecognised...

Warnings: possible Spin-Off S1 spoiler, usual TWD stuff? fluff, some slight drama... idiots in love?

Set in S1 of the Spin-Off series!

Word Count: 4,2k

a/n: Thank you, @dixons-sunshine , for that wonderful request! 🧡 And a HUGE thanks to @fictive-sl0th , for being my translator and for helping me along with this. 🧡

EoH Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"A bunch of bad decisions," was the man's answer to your question.

"How did you end up 'ere?" He threw it immediately back at you. "A bunch of bad decisions, huh? Well... I could say the same." You took a deep breath of the fresh Spring air. "I, uh, travelled to France for my boyfriend. He had a work trip which took him here. Paris, to be exactly. It was meant to be a surprise, but... When I arrived at the hotel he stayed in, I caught him in bed with another woman, so, yeah... Should've stayed at home in LA." He looked at you; chewing on the inside of his bottom lip. "'M sorry 'bout that." "Don't be. He was an asshole." You immediately waved him off. "After a few days, I decided to fly back home, but then everything collapsed... The world collapsed. I was forced to stay. That's when I met Isabelle. We both needed help, so she took me with her. That's how I ended up here. Unfortunately, neither me nor the nuns were able to help her sister - but that's a different story." You gave the man a soft smile, which he answered with a nod; once more biting the inside of his bottom lip.

You had shown the stranger - Daryl, around the abbey and were now on your way to the kitchen, in order to get the man Isabelle had so suddenly dragged into your life something to eat. You weren't a nun, but it has been a long time since you had lastly seen other people besides the women who lived here - let alone a man... You felt nervous and awkward, but also a strange kind of happiness and excitement. Perhaps it was normal. Especially in a world like that...

He had followed you in silence then; his eyes taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. However was the silence highly unpleasant - at least for you, so you decided to start another conversation - even though you knew that what you were about to ask him was probably the most stupid way to get him indulged in another chat... "Are your clothes fitting? They alright?" You gazed over at the gruff and visibly marked, yet undeniably handsome fellow American.

You noticed how he began to fumble with the beige suspenders he wore; giving himself a once-over. "Yeah, thank ya. Jus'... Ain't what 'm bein' used to." You could imagine. After all, you saw what he had been wearing when Isabelle had brought him in... Tattered jeans, a washed up black shirt and a more or less damaged and yellowed leather vest with angel wings on it. Oh, and that poncho. You reckoned he went from 'bad boy biker' to 'good boy church-goer' only within a few days. The black slacks, light blue woollen sweater and the suspenders were definitely not his style, and yet it suited him to perfection - that was at least what you thought.

"Sorry about that. It's the only men clothing we got around here. Obviously," you joked; trying to light the mood - and it worked. The man snorted out a small laugh.

That was the first memory you held of Daryl Dixon. You couldn't deny that your eyes had gotten stuck on Daryl that day - and now, a few days, weeks or even months, who knew, later you still hadn't been able to pull them away. Was it love at first sight? You didn't know. All you knew was that the man who had stumbled into your life out of nowhere drew you in like a moth to a flame.

When the abbey fell and only Isabelle, Sylvie, Laurent and you were left, you didn't even think a second about parting ways with Daryl. He certainly was stuck with the four of you now - and vice versa. The mission was clear... Bringing Laurent to the nest; first destination Paris.

Like always proved the way to be more difficult than anticipated; with a lot of stones getting thrown into your path. That was most likely the reason why you ended up imprisoned by a horde of kids and teenagers, who lived inside their old school. Well... 'imprisoned' wasn't the right term anymore after a thorough conversation - and a little white lie. Quite the opposite... You had become guests and even got invited for dinner; no longer being considered a threat. Luckily.

Now you were standing in the former classroom turned into a kitchen to do the dishes. You volunteered for this; wanting to give something in return for the kids' hospitality. To your slight surprise volunteered Daryl as well, what got only smiled at by Isabelle and Sylvie - much to your confusion. You didn't know what was so funny about that... Yet.

"Almost done," you stated with a smile and handed the man beside you one of the last plates needing to be cleaned. The archer took it with a grunt; his hand accidentally brushing yours - and you could've sworn that your stomach did a 360; his touch leaving a sizzle behind on the skin of your hand. It caused you to stop in your movements and lift your head to meet the mysterious man's eyes - blue-greyish pools, in which you got immediately threatened to drown. It took you everything to hold on. All you could see and focus on was him; causing the rational part of your brain to immediately send a distress message to your heart and asking what was going on. Well... Deep down you knew and it wasn't really difficult to figure it out... Falling in love with a man you barely knew. Was it a good idea? Probably not. Could you prevent it from happening? No.

"Madame Y/N, père (father) Daryl!" The voice of a young boy suddenly cut through the air and caused you to fall from cloud nine back down to earth. Blinking, you turned your head - and your attention to the approaching child, whose footsteps could be already heard against the wooden floor. Unbeknownst to you, did it take Daryl a second to get himself together as well; the archer highly confused about what just happened. The foreign feeling coursing through his veins did not fail to scare him a little bit.

"Dans la cuisine! (In the kitchen!)," you called back; leading him to the right destination. The boy appeared in the door frame within a few seconds; a huge smile on his face. "Allez! Nous avons allumé le générateur! (You have to come! We powered up the generator!) " The kid exclaimed happily; a huge smile on his face. "Nous serons avec vous dans une minute. Nous avons presque terminé ici (We'll be with you in a minute. We're almost done here.)," you answered and gave him a smile in return. He nodded, "Bien! (Alright!)" and stormed off again.

You turned back to Daryl; instantly seeing the question marks displayed on his face. He didn't even ask you to translate for him. You just did it. It sort of came naturally to you. By now you literally had become his personal translator - together with Isa. Sylvie was still a little shy around the man and Laurent was improving his English skills.

"He said we have to come. They powered up the generator. Guess it's time to watch some TV," you explained; smiling. "Let's get this done and go." Daryl nodded; the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. "A'right."

Once you and Daryl were finished with the task at hand, you made your way through the building and up to the attic; side by side. "Did ya already speak French as you got stranded 'ere?" The archer suddenly spoke up to break the not necessarily unpleasant silence between the both of you. You shook your head. "No, I didn't. I remembered some words I learned back in school. Basic stuff, you know?" "So ya learned to speak French?" You nodded, "Yeah, I did." and shrugged your shoulders. "Had to. I spent now over ten years in France. Had a lot of time to learn the language... Isa was a good teacher, and Laurent the best classmate." The man beside you nodded; chewing on the inside of his bottom lip. You noticed from the very beginning that he had the tendency to do that. A habit, possibly?

When you reached the attic, everybody was waiting for you and Daryl already. The kids were antsy and bubbly; full of anticipation and impatiently waiting for the big screen to light up.

Daryl sat down on an empty seat beside a young, blond boy. Your plan was to join him, but Laurent waved you over with a smile; silently asking to sit with him. Of course, you couldn't say no to the boy's wish, and sent your fellow American an apologising gaze, which he acknowledged with a jut of his head; telling you it was okay. So, you sat down beside Laurent with a smile and wrapped an arm around him; halfway hugging him. He meant a lot to you. After all, you knew him since the day he was born. He was family - just like Sylvie and Isabelle.

No minute later, the screen lit up and the 'TV programme' started to play - much to all kids' joy and excitement. The series you were watching was one you were familiar with... 'Mork & Mindy'. It was a series you didn't catch when it first got shown on TV, but your dad introduced you to it a few years later. Glancing over to Daryl, you could see on his face that he knew 'Mork & Mindy' as well. The man's lips were curled up in a soft smile. It definitely looked like he was visiting the past in his mind; probably thinking back to his childhood.

It wasn't the only glance you stole at Daryl that evening. Your eyes wandered way more often to him than you actually noticed. You didn't, but quite a few another pairs of eyes did... Familiar and unfamiliar...

It was already quite late when everybody returned from the wonderful 'movie night' and retreated to their rooms. You shared a room, and bed with Isabelle - not for the first time in all those years, so neither of you had a problem with that. Why would you?

The nun had already settled down in bed and watched you join her with a small smirk on her lips. A smirk you knew quite well by now. "What?" She looked at you; still smiling. "The French are very poetic and love poetry, you know."

Why is she telling me this? You asked yourself.

"Le cœur a ses raisons que la raison ne connaît point," the blond woman spoke in her native tongue to quote Blaise Pascal; her smile never faltering. You frowned. "The heart has reasons the mind doesn't know? What's that supposed to mean, Isa? Is there something you want to tell me, or...?" The nun just smiled. "Oh, I think you know what I mean. Well, at least your heart does. I noticed, you know." You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms over your chest. "Could you please stop talking in riddles? Noticed what?"

A soft chuckle left Isabelle's lips. You didn't get it. "The way you look at him."

And suddenly, it fell like scales from your eyes, causing your cheeks to turn beet red. "I-I..." You stammered; looking everywhere but at your friend. "You, uh... You see that?" "I dare to say that it's not very subtle, Y/N." You swallowed. "O-Oh..."

Isabelle smiled and patted the free space on the bed beside her. Cautiously, you climbed in and sat down on the old mattress; criss-crossing your legs. "Why are you embarrassed? You don't have to. L‘amour, l‘amour - ça arrive toujours." You smiled softly at her; fumbling with your hands. "I don't know... It's just... I actually barely know him. How can I fall in love with a stranger?" Isabelle shrugged her shoulders, "Your heart knows. Isn't that enough? Don't question it." and placed a hand on your wrist. "Perhaps isn't Laurent and the mission the only reason God sent Daryl to us..." She smiled again, and you couldn't help but widen your smile.

Your friend wasn't the only one who noticed the looks you were giving Daryl - like you found out on the next day. You were supposed to go on a small mission with Lou - the kids' group leader and Daryl, but you headed out on the once intact and most likely beautiful school yard earlier; deciding to get some fresh air. You watched Laurent play with a some of the other kids; smiling. Some were playing tag, some hide & seek and a few others had a huge rope and were skipping. You didn't think much of it at first, but then you listened closer to what the two girls were singing while swinging the rope. Your brain instantly translated the song, since you knew it so very well. You sang it yourself, back in your school days...

"Y/N and Daryl sitting in the tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g! First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Y/N with a baby carriage!"

You blinked, had to listen twice to make sure you heard that right... You did. They were singing the kissing song, including your and Daryl's name... "Hey, ya a'right?" The sudden sound of the voice from the man in question urging to your ears ripped you out of your thoughts, but didn't improve your situation. Not even in the slightest. You could still hear the girls singing - now even louder as it seemed; given the fact that Daryl joined you to sit on the small wall by the fence.

Instantly, your cheeks reddened; shocked and even a little embarrassed that also the kids - strange kids noticed that, and of course, because Daryl's presence.

You cleared your throat; quickly nodding. "Yeah, uh, sure. All good." You could tell from the look on your crush's face that he was quite suspicious about your behaviour and answer, but he dropped it and accepted your answer with a nod.

The both of you continued to watch the kids with an unpleasant silence between you, until you noticed a young girl approaching you with a smile. "Y/N?" You gave her a smile. "Oui?" "Tu es américaine? (You are from America, right?)" You nodded. "En fait, je viens de Los Angeles. (Yes, I am from Los Angeles.)" The girl nodded and glanced shortly at the bulky man sitting beside you. "Et père Daryl, il est aussi américain? (And father Daryl is American, too?)" You nodded once more. "Oui, il est. (Yes, he is, too.)"

She smiled and brought out a daisy from behind her back. "Donc, tu connais la comptine 'Je t’aime' ou ça n'existe pas en Amérique? (Do you have the 'He loves me - he loves me not.' game in America as well?)"

You swallowed hard at her words; knowing of course exactly what she meant - or rather what she hinted at. "Je crois que oui, mais je ne l’ai jamais entendu en français. (We do, yeah. But I, uh, don't know how it goes in French.)" The little girl's eyes widened; now shimmering with excitement. "D‘accord! Je te montrerai! (Alright! I show you!)" She started the 'He loves me - he loves me not.' rhyme; all the while plucking petals from the daisy. You listened closely; trying to be attentive.

Meanwhile Daryl was 'just' a silent participant of whatever was going on. The archer didn't understand a single word - besides his name - of what you and the girl had talked about. Until she pulled out the daisy from behind her back...

She finished plucking the daisy until the last petal. A big smile lit up her sweet face as she gazed at you, then Daryl and back at you again. And before you could even say something, she brought out another daisy; now stretching out her hand to you. "C'est ton tour! (Now your turn!)" The excited child in front of you announced.

You would've lied, if you said you didn't see it coming. Of course you did - and that child was a smart girl. She also knew what she did.

Swallowing hard once again, you gently took the daisy from her small hand - a nervous smile on your face. Doing like the girl showed you, you started the rhyme; trying to remember how it went and plucked the petals of the little flower in your hand.

"Je t'aime, un peu, beacoup, tendrement, passionnément, à la folie, pas du tout..." Of course was destiny a lousy traitor and you landed at 'beacoup'- a lot... Now you couldn't prevent the blush from spreading all across your cheeks. You desperately tried to play it cool, given the fact that the man who literally was this all about was sitting right beside you - most likely knowing what was going on. Sure, he may not speak French, but you were quite certain that he knew the game you and the little girl had just played. He knew what was going on. You did not dare to look at Daryl; too afraid of his reaction.

And the little girl? She just giggled and once more looked from you to the archer and back, before she turned on her heels and ran away.

Unpleasant silence lingered between you and Daryl. The man knew the game you had just played - but he was still oblivious of your feelings for him. Yes, the little girl's looks were quite revealing, but why would such a beautiful, stunning creature like you fall in love with a brute, messed-up redneck like him? Impossible. He needed a proof; to test this insane theory.

"Y/N-" Your name leaving his lips was enough to send you into a frenzy - and you panicked. Hastily standing up from the little wall, you fled; quick steps carrying you as far away from the archer as possible.

After the 'incident' in the school yard, you and Daryl didn't talk for days. Only necessary conversations were held. Nothing more. And even during those, you struggled. You couldn't look Daryl in the eyes. Not even for a second. You were sure that the others noticed as well, but just didn't decide to intervene. Your usually extroverted and open self had turned into a shy, bashful woman - as soon as Daryl invaded your space. You were just too afraid of rejection and unrequited feelings - what in your point of view was most likely the case. You may not knew him a long time, but you could tell that he was a lone wolf. He didn't need your or any other company.

You sat on one of the big, wooden tables, close to the edge of the rooftop. A few candles were the only source of light, as you overlooked the once so bright and shiny city of love, which had turned dark, cold and dead. At least at night. The rusting, decaying Eiffel Tower looming above the darkness; only illuminated by the full moon shining from above the sky. It held a strange kind of beauty.

Footsteps and some rustling noises coming undoubtedly from behind you piqued your attention. Nevertheless, you didn't turn to face the approaching person. You didn't have to. You knew by the sounds of the heavy boots connecting with the concrete ground to whom the steps belonged - and it caused your heart immediately to speed up...

Daryl.

Wordlessly, he took a seat beside you; picking nervously at his hands. From the corner of your eye you saw that he was still wearing the black slacks, woollen sweater and suspenders. Did that man ever sleep? Apparently not.

Silence was still lingering between the both of you; spread over your bodies like an invisible blanket - until the archer cleared his throat. "Can't sleep?" You swallowed hard and shook your head; nervosity skyrocketing. "I, uh, needed some fresh air," you answered; still not deigning to look at him. Daryl nodded - rather to himself than to you, and chewed on the inside of his bottom lip for a moment; contemplating his next words.

"Couldn't sleep 'n was thinkin' the same." You didn't answer; not having the slightest clue what to say.

Daryl kept quiet as well; recognising that what he had on his mind turned out to be way more difficult to say than he anticipated... His brain worked hard to try and figure out a new plan, but not really successfully.

He had to suppress a groan. Why were things like this always so difficult and complicated? He just wished he could just follow an instruction...

After a few minutes and a trillion failed ideas, Daryl just threw wind into caution and went: Fuck it - and go like a bull at a gate.

"Yer avoidin' me."

Three words... Three words shouldn't leave such a sting on your heart, right? And yet they did. You were walking a thin line between being ashamed and nervous. "I-I do?" Daryl snorted out a scoff; crossing his muscular arms over his chest. "Ya ain't shittin' me, woman. I ain't blind or stupid." "W-Well, I... I don't mean to, it's just... complicated...," you stammered; unable to find the right words to explain this to the man. "'S complicated now, but a week ago it wasn't? Why? 'S not makin' sense." And he was right. You knew he was. He had backed you up against the wall. You ran out of arguments and white lies; leaving you no space to escape.

"It... It's because..." You sighed. "You know why. You know what happened in that school yard. You're a smart man, Daryl. Don't tell me you didn't figure it out and count one and one together."

The archer's heart fluttered at your words. He did read the sign correctly - and the realisation made his stomach flip. A sensation he hadn't felt often in his life before. Something he never thought he'd be graced with experiencing.

Daryl could tell how nervous and antsy this conversation made you, so he tried to keep it together. For yours and his sake.

Though, nobody said this was easy... And words weren't exactly his strong suit.

"A'right, listen..." He may have been ineloquent, but he knew how to compensate it. Especially when body language failed him as well.

"There was this man. Jus' a normal guy in this broken world. He went out lookin' for somethin', but... All he found was trouble. 'N tha' trouble brought him to a place so far from home. All across the ocean, 'n... All the man wanted was to go back 's fast 's possible; this bein' the only damn thing on his mind... Gettin' back home; back where he thought he belonged. But then somethin' happened 'n suddenly he saw things with diff'rent eyes..." "What happened?" Your mouth spoke quicker than you brain could think. Daryl shrugged his shoulders; the tiniest of smiles tugging at the corners of his lips. "A woman."

Your eyes widened and you finally dared to turn your head to look at him - directly into his beautiful blue-grey eyes, and it almost left you breathless. "H-He... He fell in love?" You witnessed Daryl chewing on the pad of his thumb, before he gave you a nod. "Yeah, 's what people do, right?" He slid cautiously closer to you, until his hand brushed the back of your hand. "Fallin' in love..." Daryl whispered in his deep, raspy voice, and slowly took your smaller hand in his big, clammy hand; loosely intertwining your fingers.

Your heart almost stopped; a gasp leaving your lips as the final realisation kicked in... He reciprocated your feelings. They weren't unrequited. The love was mutual - and it caused a firework of emotions to explode within you; blowing away all the negativity. The shyness, the embarrassment, the shame.

A smile spread over your whole face - so bright it could light up the whole world. Daryl was sure of it. Throwing caution to the wind - driven by the love coursing through your veins, you quickly leaned over and pressed your lips against Daryl's. You could tell that he was slightly taken by surprise - but he did not pull away. The archer could never reject you. Quite the opposite...

He lifted his free hand and gently cupped your cheek in his palm; feeling your soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips and locking your lips to his. The kiss was clumsy and slightly chaotic; given the fact that he hadn't kissed somebody in a very long time. Not that you minded. You weren't better. In your eyes the kiss was perfect. Daryl-like.

You smiled; still with your eyes closed, before you slid closer to the archer as well. You rested your head against his shoulder; feeling the fabric of his woollen sweater slightly scratch your cheek.

"Yer comin' with me back home, right?" You nodded instantly. "I'd love to." Daryl smiled and squeezed your hand. "Yer gonna love Alexandria... The Commonwealth, n' all the people livin' there. I jus' know it."

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @fictive-sl0th @dixons-sunshine @loz-3 @making-the-most-0f-it @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @whore4romance @mikaela-granger @sweetz19 @marvelcasey05 @mischief-dream @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @secretsicanthideanymore @stiveroon @mayday2007 @cakesandtom

If you want to be added or removed, please let me know.

[cuntyji]

Heyo!!

Loved all the writing so far! Had this random idea. Like Gojo and the puppy but imagine one of the jjk men that reader chased down their new kitten that ended up cozying up to said man of choice.

Again just my random mind LOL.

You got me as a supporter of your works.

BONGO'S GUIDE TO LOVE ౨ৎ VARIOUS JJK X (GN!) READER

summary: naming your cat bongo seemed fun at first—until he started treating every man in your orbit like his personal enemy. from perching smugly on the shoulder of your tattoo artist mid-ink session to single-handedly (or single-pawedly?) trashing your neighbor's bakery, bongo is on a one-feline mission to ruin your life. or maybe, just maybe, he’s actually trying to fix it? because amidst the chaos and claw marks, there might be a paw-sible chance he’s onto something you’re not.

content warnings: gender neutral reader (no use of y/n, specific pronouns or gender mentioned). 100% sfw and crack, unestablished relationship, meet-cute. bongo cat's breed is not mentioned, only descriptor is that he is chonky. drabbles of various characters, including: stranger! sukuna, tat artist! choso, bakery owner! nanami, moving helper! toji, actor! gojo. — ( full length cat dad! geto fic here )

— RYOMEN SUKUNA  ₍^. .^₎

you watched in absolute horror as bongo, your self-declared king of bad decisions, flung himself at the most terrifying human in the park. his fur fluffed up like some sort of possessed cotton ball as he darted straight for the man’s massive combat boots. the man—ryomen sukuna, as you'd later learn—looked like he moonlighted as a death metal frontman when he wasn't out intimidating random park-goers. tattoos spilled down his neck, across his face, and from what you could see, probably over most of his terrifyingly ripped body.

“bongo, no!” you shouted, but the little menace had already committed.

sukuna's brow furrowed as he crouched, grabbing bongo by the scruff of his neck like some kind of annoyed parent dealing with a particularly unruly toddler. bongo dangled mid-air, his expression entirely unbothered, his tail swishing lazily as if to say, this is fine. you froze, half expecting sukuna to punt bongo into the stratosphere. but instead, sukuna tilted his head. 

“the hell is this?”

“oh my god, please don’t kill my cat!” you blurted, sprinting towards him with all the dignity of a car alarm. sukuna glanced at you, his crimson eyes narrowing. “why the fuck would i kill your cat?”

“i—uh,” you stammered, gesturing wildly at his tattoos like they were some sort of official cat murder license.

bongo, clearly bored of dangling, chose this exact moment to lick sukuna’s face. one looooong, obnoxious lick, from his chin to his cheekbone, leaving a trail of cat slobber behind.

you winced. “oh no—”

but sukuna just blinked. then let out a low chuckle that sounded like a chainsaw revving. “bold little shit, huh?” bongo purred louder, smushing his entire face into sukuna’s jaw like they were old pals. sukuna, to your utter disbelief, reached up with his free hand and gave your traitorous cat a solid scratch behind the ears.

“what’s his name?” sukuna asked, his tone entirely too casual for someone covered in dark tattoos and holding a cat like a teddy bear.

“…bongo,” you muttered, now questioning every life choice that had led to this moment. he smirked, finally lowering bongo to the ground, though your little idiot immediately flopped onto sukuna’s boot like it was a throne. “bongo, huh? fitting. looks like a troublemaker.”

you stared. “yeah, well, he usually doesn’t go around licking strangers.”

“good taste,” sukuna said, smirking wider. “smart cat.”

smart? your cat had the brain cells of a soggy sponge and the survival instincts of a lemming.

“right, well,” you said, attempting to scoop bongo off sukuna’s foot, but the cat clung like velcro. “sorry for… all this. he doesn’t usually—”

“don’t worry about it,” sukuna interrupted, crouching again and giving bongo another scratch that sent your little demon into a full-body wiggle. “might be the best thing that’s happened to me all week.”

“…seriously?”

“yeah.” sukuna’s grin turned sharp, teasing. “most people just run the other way.”

you raised an eyebrow. “wonder why.”

he laughed, low and deep, then stood, towering over you in the most obnoxious way possible. “guess bongo knows a good guy when he sees one.” bongo chose this moment to leap back into sukuna’s arms like some kind of feline rom-com lead, rubbing his cheek against sukuna’s chest. “traitor,” you muttered under your breath.

“looks like he’s mine now,” sukuna teased, shooting you a grin that made you feel uncomfortably warm. “not a chance,” you shot back, but your tone lacked conviction.

ryomen sukuna: terrifying, tattooed, and apparently now your cat’s best friend. god help you both.

— CHOSO KAMO  ₍^. .^₎

it was a bad idea, you knew that from the start. but bongo’s separation anxiety had you by the throat, so there he was, your chunky feline menace, perched on a folding chair like a judgmental little gargoyle as you prepared for your tattoo session. everything was fine until choso kamo walked in.

your tattoo artist was the living embodiment of a rain-a-sauce—uh, renaissance painting. his long black hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, his dark eyes framed by perfectly smudged eyeliner that made him look both mysterious and mildly intimidating. his loose black tee hung just right, accentuating broad shoulders and strong arms that you were definitely not admiring. and then bongo decided to ruin your life.

the cat launched himself like a furry cannonball straight onto choso’s shoulder. not his lap, not a nearby table—his actual shoulder.

“bongo, no!” you hissed, half-rising from the tattoo chair. but choso, calm as a goddamn monk, didn’t even flinch. instead, he turned his head slightly to glance at the literal furball now draped across him. “he’s fine,” choso said, his voice low and smooth, as if this was a completely normal occurrence. “guess he likes me.”

you gawked as bongo, the little traitor, made himself comfortable, kneading choso’s shoulder like it was a deluxe memory foam pillow. “i… i can get him off—”

“don’t worry about it,” choso interrupted, grabbing his tattoo gun with one hand while his other casually scratched behind bongo’s ears. you stared. he was petting your cat. while holding a needle. meant for your skin. “uh, are you sure that’s… safe?” you asked, your voice pitching higher as choso began inking the outline on your arm.

“he’s not bothering me,” choso replied simply, his focus entirely on his work. bothering you? you were the one about to be permanently marked while your fat, smug cat played parrot. bongo purred like a tiny chainsaw, rubbing his cheek against choso’s jaw. “great,” you muttered, clenching your teeth as the needle buzzed against your skin.

as if sensing your tension, bongo stretched out one paw and lightly bopped your cheek. “oh my god, bongo, stoopp!” you whined, glaring at him. choso chuckled softly, his lips quirking into the faintest smile. “looks like he’s trying to comfort you.”

“he’s mocking me,” you shot back, but choso’s quiet laugh was almost enough to distract you from the pain. almost. “you’re doing fine,” choso said after a beat, his voice soothing in a way that made your stomach flip. 

“thanks,” you muttered, your face heating up for reasons that definitely had nothing to do with him. meanwhile, bongo continued his reign of chaos, now swiping at choso’s dangling ponytail like it was his personal cat toy. “you’re really just gonna let him do that?” you asked incredulously. choso shrugged, completely unfazed. “he’s keeping himself entertained. and you, apparently.”

“entertained is not the word i’d use,” you grumbled, but your mouth twitched despite yourself.

“well, at least one of us is having fun,” choso said, his tone light.

and maybe it was the distraction of bongo’s antics, or the way choso’s calm presence made the pain a little more bearable, but by the end of the session, you were almost… relaxed. as choso finished up, he finally plucked bongo off his shoulder and held him up, his strong hands making your cat look oddly small. “you’re lucky you’re cute,” he muttered, though there was no bite to his words.

“you have no idea,” you said, shaking your head. choso handed bongo back to you, his lips curving into that faint smile again. “next time, maybe leave him at home.”

you glanced down at bongo, who was purring smugly in your arms. “yeah, not likely.” choso chuckled, wiping his hands clean. “figured.”

as you left the shop, you couldn’t help but think that bongo might’ve been onto something with his whole shoulder-sitting act. maybe your chaotic little furball had better instincts than you gave him credit for.

— NANAMI KENTO  ₍^. .^₎

it’s always the quiet moments when bongo chooses chaos. you were mid-face mask, your skin glowing with the kind of self-care that influencers would kill for, when your furry menace decided to bolt out the backdoor like he had urgent business. “bonggoooo!” you screeched, stumbling after him in your ratty pajamas and slippers that definitely weren’t made for running.

the scent of the bakery hit you like a brick wall. god, how does it smell expensive? buttery, sugary, and somehow elitist all at once. you didn’t have time to contemplate the metaphysics of aromas because bongo had already darted through the bakery’s back entrance like he owned the place. by the time you caught up, panting and slightly disheveled, you were greeted by the sight of nanami kento, the bakery’s perpetually composed owner, standing in the middle of his flour-dusted kitchen. and in his hands, like a prized artifact, was bongo.

kento held your cat aloft like some kind of culinary simba, his perfectly pressed apron dusted with flour. bongo, with his chubby belly and utterly unrepentant face, dangled there like he had no idea he’d just stormed into someone else’s livelihood. “this,” kento said, his deep, even voice somehow more judgmental than any glare could be, “is yours, i presume?” you swallowed hard, your face mask cracking slightly as you plastered on a smile. “yes! uh, that’s bongo. my cat. um, i’m so sorry—”

“he ran across my counter,” kento continued, his tone unchanging as he gently turned bongo to show you his flour-dusted paws. “he stepped in the dough. twice.”

“oh my god,” you groaned, wishing the floor would open up and swallow you whole. bongo, ever the villain, reached out a paw and batted at kento’s tie, smearing it with a bit of leftover flour. “i’ll… i’ll pay for the damages,” you stammered, mortified. “or, uh, write an apology letter. from bongo. he’s very articulate.”

kento raised a brow, lowering bongo but still holding him like he was a particularly troublesome baguette. “a letter?”

“yeah, uh, he’s got great penmanship,” you blurted, because apparently, when embarrassed, you just doubled down on ridiculousness. kento sighed, setting bongo down on the floor. your cat immediately started rubbing his face against kento’s leg like they were old friends. “he’s lucky he’s cute,” kento muttered, though his tone softened slightly.

“he’s really not,” you mumbled, scooping bongo into your arms. “he’s a menace.”

“i’ve noticed.” kento crossed his arms, eyeing bongo like he was calculating the exact amount of havoc the cat had wreaked. “next time, maybe keep him indoors.”

“yeah, definitely,” you said, clutching bongo tighter as he squirmed. “and, uh, if you ever need… cat-signed apology letters, i’m your person.”

kento gave you a long, measured look before sighing. “just keep him out of my kitchen.”

as you backed out of the bakery, clutching your flour-covered feline, you couldn’t help but wonder if bongo’s next target would be a crime that didn’t involve you humiliating yourself in front of absurdly attractive men. unlikely.

— TOJI FUSHIGURO ₍^. .^₎

moving to new york was supposed to be your fresh start. concrete jungle where dreams made of, blah blah blah. instead, you found yourself battling overpriced rent and a cat who had zero respect for personal boundaries.

toji, the moving guy, had been an unexpected lifesaver. with his messy scrawl of a name tag and a physique that screamed, “i bench press refrigerators for fun,” he made quick work of your moving boxes. it was almost comical how easily he hefted bongo’s cat tree—like it was a baguette instead of a glorified jungle gym for your chunky feline. you tipped him with cookies because that’s just who you are: a sucker for baked goods as a currency. and as toji waved goodbye and headed off, you gave yourself a little pat on the back for surviving the first day in the big apple. until you noticed bongo was missing.

cue the meltdown.

“bonggggoooooo!” you hollered, tearing through your barely unpacked apartment like a madwoman. every cupboard, every box, even the bathtub—it was all checked twice, thrice, and then some. no bongo. by the time you collapsed onto the floor, tears welling up, you were already planning the world’s most dramatic cat funeral. there’d be violins, speeches, and a photo slideshow of bongo’s finest “this idiot just ate plastic again” moments. then, a knock at the door.

you practically threw it open to find toji standing there, his enormous frame taking up most of the doorway. in his arms was bongo, looking about as offended as a cat could possibly look, his fur slightly ruffled but otherwise unscathed. “found him in my van,” toji said, his gravelly voice tinged with amusement. 

“oh my god,” you gasped, reaching for bongo, who—of course—refused to leave toji’s arms. “he’s such a menace, i’m so sorry—”

“don’t be,” toji interrupted, smirking as bongo nuzzled against his chest like a lovestruck teenager. “guess he’s got good taste.”

“good taste?” you repeated, incredulous. “he literally jumped into a stranger’s van. he’s one step away from being catnapped—i mean, kidnapped.”

“looks like he wouldn’t have minded,” toji quipped, scratching behind bongo’s ear and earning an annoyingly loud purr in return. you groaned, crossing your arms. “great. my cat’s in love with the moving guy.”

toji chuckled, finally setting bongo down. the traitor immediately twined around toji’s legs, shooting you a look that said this man is mine now. “guess i’m unforgettable,” toji teased, leaning against the doorframe.

“yeah, well,” you said, scooping up bongo before he could claw his way back into toji’s arms, “don’t let it go to your head.”

toji gave you a crooked grin, his scarred lip tugging slightly. “welcome to new york,” he said, turning to leave. as he walked away, bongo let out a mournful meow, his paw swiping at the air like he was starring in his own rom-com goodbye scene.

“ugh, big boys,” you muttered, carrying bongo back inside. but as you closed the door, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, new york wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

— GOJO SATORU  ₍^. .^₎

you knew gojo had a flair for theatrics, but the day he decided to charm everything with a pulse—including bongo, the cat cast for your shared scene—you realized just how far he was willing to go. bongo, a seasoned feline actor with a resume longer than yours, had been nothing but professional. meanwhile, gojo? not so much. “who’s a handsome boy? you are, aren’t you?” gojo cooed at bongo during a break, crouched low and ruffling the cat’s fur like they were old pals.

“you know he’s supposed to like my character, right?” you deadpanned from your chair, sipping lukewarm coffee. 

“it’s called method acting, babe,” gojo replied with a wink, scratching under bongo’s chin. “gotta make sure he’s comfortable with me too.”

“yeah, by stealing my scene partner.”

gojo just grinned, letting bongo climb onto his lap like a tiny, furry king surveying his kingdom.

fast-forward to the final day of shooting, and bongo had developed what could only be described as a toxic attachment to gojo. 

“aaaand that’s a wrap!” the director called, the crew breaking into applause. you were ready to celebrate—finally free of gojo’s antics—until chaos erupted.

bongo’s trainer approached to retrieve the cat, only for bongo to hiss dramatically and latch onto gojo’s designer blazer with claws sharp enough to shred through fabric and ego alike. “uh, a little help?” gojo yelped, trying to peel the cat off without damaging what was likely a five-figure jacket. the trainer tugged at bongo gently, but the cat clung harder, his claws hooking into the seams as if his very life depended on staying attached to gojo.

“he’s tearing my clothes!” gojo screeched, his voice hitting a pitch you hadn’t thought possible.

“you’re the one who told him he’s a ‘handsome boy,’” you snarked, watching the scene unfold with far too much glee.

“he is a handsome boy! but now he’s a demon!” gojo cried, trying to shake off the cat, who let out a mournful wail and doubled down on his grip. the crew burst out laughing as bongo dramatically clung to gojo’s chest like he was recreating a tragic love scene.

“just let him go, he’s attached to you now,” you teased, crossing your arms and watching the chaos unfold.

“i can’t!” gojo wailed. “he’s got my soul in his little murder mittens!”

finally, the trainer managed to pry bongo off, leaving behind shredded fabric and a very disheveled gojo. “you owe me a new jacket,” he grumbled, glaring at you like this was somehow your fault. “i owe you nothing,” you shot back. “maybe next time, don’t flirt with cats.”

as bongo was carried off set, still yowling dramatically, you couldn’t help but think: if nothing else, that cat had impeccable taste in people to torment.

[an-albino-pinetree]

Doppelgänger Jax? Doppelgänger Jax!

Character idea/colour palette inspired by @corpseacoast art !

He looked analog horror in the grey colours <:] 🩶🩶

She Mandela on my Catalogue till I Uh Oh! Bad Decision Mark!

[wolfytae-exe]

Ouija. (S) (A)

summary: in which your boredom leads to stupid decisions and dangerous consequences.

warning: fear, anxiety, predator & prey, seance, dubcon, dacryphilia, breeding(?) kink, name-calling(cutie, darling, little human, dollface), degrading(slut, whore, nasty), sadism, forced orgasm, death, gore, marking(if you squint), praise at some point, jjun really enjoys the mcs pain, master kink, biting, aphrodisiac,

paring: Incubus! Yeonjun + afab! Reader

wc: 3.4k

Playlist

It’s cold; was October always this cold? You shiver in your living room, a mug of freshly brewed coffee steaming in between your sweater-pawed hands, allowing the apartment to smell like pumpkin spice.

Your TV replacing a fireplace and warm fairy lights are the only thing lighting the area around you as you relax on the couch, the cushions cold as you struggle to afford a heater.

You’re fresh out of school, majoring in linguistics had you living off waitress tips and your savings at the moment, but as badly as it stresses you out, you can’t help but feel content, affording yourself and your life is enough for you to enjoy your coffee and warm lights in autumn. Not to mention it’s your favorite time of the year, Halloween time.

You already had your Halloween candy out, sitting in a big bowl with purple and orange candies on it, waiting for the clock to strike midnight so you can enjoy Hallows Eve in the best fashion, an Ouija board. You knew there was no need to freak out, you messed with the board a couple of years back with a group of sophomore college students during a Halloween party, and the lack of movement in the planchette caused an embarrassment like no other that night.

with one last sip of your coffee, you checked your watch. 12:02 AM October 31, 2023, you sat up and set your coffee down grabbed the box holding the board, and placed it on your coffee table. With a sigh, you pulled the board and planchette out along with the instructions.

After glancing at the paper a shiver ran down your spine. ‘DO NOT USE ALONE.’ scribbled in bold all over the page, you couldn’t make out the other words all over it. “What kinda sick joke?” You muttered as you held up the planchette. It’s Halloween, this is supposed to be creepy, you told yourself before placing it on the board.

You placed your fingers in the planchette and took in a breath. “Is there anyone here with me?” You asked with a slight shake in your voice, anxiety racked you as the room dropped in temperature and the planchette began to move slowly. The sound of the wood rubbing made you want to let go, the planchette didn’t do this before, what the fuck what the actual fuck.

The circle of the planchette hovered over the word ‘YES.’ “O-Okay- Uh, are you nice?” You asked, knowing it was dumb to ask a spirit, why would it ever say it’s bad? The planchette didn’t move for a moment before moving to the letters. ‘H-U-N-G-R-Y’ You gulped, lump in your throat refusing to move. “I-I’m sorry about that uh- what’s your name? Who am I talking to?” You tried to change the topic as goosebumps rose on your skin from the cold.

The planchette didn’t move again for a moment before repeating itself. ‘H-U-N-G-R-Y’ then it moved again, staying on the Y extra long. ‘Y-E-O-N-J-U-N’ the planchette froze. “Is that Korean? But you speak English? Interesting..” You breathed. “What are you Yeonjun?” You asked, pronouncing the name to the best of your abilities as you were rusty in the language, your anxiety lessened the more interesting the spirit became.

The planchette moves. ‘D-E-M-O-N’ never mind, anxiety was back and stronger than before. “O-Oh.. And what do demons eat” You pant, actually terrified now as the planchette moves faster, more fluid, like the control wasn’t in your hands anymore. ‘L-E-T G-O- H-U-N-G-R-Y- L-E-T- Y-E-O-N-J- Y-/-N- D-E-M-O-I-N-C-U-B- L-E-T-G-O -H-U-N-G-R- GOODBYE.’

Your stomach dropped and you could no longer see, unsure whether to let go or not as your lights flickered and switched off, your teeth chattered as you shut your eyes and tried not to cry. “Yeonjun! I don’t understand!” You begged, knowing you weren’t going to get any answers, you were going to die. Your fingers slipped off the planchette, covering your ears as you couldn’t handle the silence.

Eventually, your light flickered back on and the board seemed fine, you seemed fine, you deducted from your ability to breathe, see, hear, and feel. “What the fuck..” You sighed before grabbing the planchette and board and putting it back in the box. Yeah, you were done, it’s time to sleep and throw that board away in the morning.

And that’s exactly what you did, you showered, changed into a warm hoodie and shorts, and tucked yourself right into your bed, ignoring the feeling of being watched and chalking it down to just being paranoid. It took you a while but you were able to put yourself to sleep.

Unbeknownst to you, however, you had a guest, a very hungry and awake guest. Yeonjun watched as you slept, tossing and turning every few minutes. God, he was starving, you looked so cute and tasty he just wanted to ravage you. Yeonjun hid in the shadows of your room a bit longer before giving in to his hunger.

As the demon moved into the light of your nightlight and onto your bed by your feet his clothes disappeared in the dark red smoke surrounding him. His eyes began to glow a sharp red, in contrast to his black hair as a long tail and sharp horn twisted from his lower back and hairline, the sound of his bones maneuvering and crunching to fit the additions along with a deep moan following it filled your room and invaded your dreams.

Your blanket moved over you, hovering over your frame, you curled up, whining before slowly opening your eyes to see why your warmth was gone. A scream left you fast, ringing loud into the room as red glowing eyes stared back from under your blanket, a grip on your hips coming quick, the feeling of the sharp nails causing a whimper to leave you. “P-Please..” You cried for your life, you’re too young to die. “Spare me please.” Tears fell from your eyes, sliding down your cheeks helplessly.

“Yeonjun please,” You knew using his name would do absolutely nothing. “So cute~” His voice rumbled from under the covers, a taunting purr etched into his tone. “You’re not dying yet, Y/N,” He wickedly chuckled. “You just have to feed me, and maybe I’ll let you live longer.” The eyes under the bed darkened, pupils in slits like cats and blood red in hunger.

“I-I- Anything please, I’m sorry I’ll feed you,” You pleaded, attempting to move only to yelp at his nails digging deeper into you, drawing blood. “Ow! I said yes! Yes! Let go please!” You panicked, kicking before the pain seeped into you deeper like you were being branded. “Ah- Stop!” You kicked harder but his grip never loosened. “I like it when humans fight~” A dark chuckle filled the room as he rose.

His horns being the first to catch your eyes, twisted and coiled into the sky, what you didn’t expect was his face, foxy eyes, and plump lips curled into a smile, he was beautiful. But the demon still had you pinned and in pain.

He rose higher, face to your chest and you noticed the bareness of him, his thighs brushing against yours. “Wh-“ You gasp out as you feel his hard cock pressing up against your clothes heat. Tears well up in your eyes again as he slowly ruts into you. “What- What are you..?” You whimper, too scared to let your voice go over a whisper.

Yeonjun cooed before pressing small kisses to your neck and cheek. “I told you,” you let out a sob as he spoke, a moan coming from in as a response. “I’m a demon, a very hungry one at that. An Incubus if you’re asking for my breed. Speaking of breeding.” He moans out, thrusting harder. A yelp leaves your lips as he grabs your hair, pulling back so you are level with him.

“You look so scared, but I can smell it, you’re so aroused~” He smiles, the red glint in his eyes lighting up at the way your legs shook under him. “That’s why you summoned me, isn’t it? You just wanna get dicked down, let go of all your stress?” You couldn’t respond, trying hard not to burst into more tears at the way his cock left you wanting more, wasn’t this assault? Why do you want him to stop and just fuck you already?

“Please… Stop- I don’t want this,” you plead, you knew you were lying, he knew you were lying, he’ll help you relax. “Shh, calm that pretty head little human.” the demon whispered before leaning in and kissing you, you fought, squeals leaving your throat as your hands lifted to hit him, only to be pulled back and pinned to the bed. A sob left you again, you wanted him to leave, you wanted to turn back time and never use that board again.

His tongue pushed through, long and snake-like, you could feel his saliva slide down your throat with ease, numbing the back of your tongue on the way down. Once he pulled away and took a good look at you he smiled. “Huening would eat you up, I’m so glad I answered you instead of that freak.” He knew you’d feel the effects soon, his saliva working as an aphrodisiac slowly but surely. “I got to you first and I don’t share my food.” His sharp tooth grin was the last thing you saw clearly.

Your mind almost instantly felt foggy before a pulse of pleasure shot through you. “Oh- God! What- What did you do to me?!” Your thighs attempted to slam shut on the demon, a rush of arousal ruining your panties. “God won’t save you, Y/N, you have to ask the devil for forgiveness this time.” The demon taunted as he watched your skin turn clammy, sweat dampening your forehead.

Your chest rose up and down, breathing uneasily. “I-It’s hot- ” You panted, the heat you wanted so much ran over your body in waves making you feel suffocated, the pressure in your lower tummy making your head spin. “Relax cutie, it’s just an aphrodisiac, don’t worry your pretty little head.” Yeonjun dipped down, head in between your neck now. You didn’t even feel him at first, mind blown over with disgusting, distasteful, explicit scenes.

“You’re so hot.” Yeonjun chuckled into your neck, licking and kissing at it before biting down, his sharp teeth ripping into your skin and holding on like a vice. You screamed, screamed like hell, there was no pleasure, no arousal; just raw searing pain. Hot tears ran down your face as you clawed the demon, you could feel your blood rushing out be wound like a broken dam, you could feel Yeonjun lap it up, moaning and growling at your taste.

When he finally pulled off his bloody face looked up in pure pleasure like your blood was his aphrodisiac. “Your soul will be such a nice dessert. I won the jackpot tonight.” All you could do was cry, blood stained your sheets and pillow, you couldn’t breathe and you felt like you were gonna die. That was until another wave of heat crashed over your body, you tensed, a whine ripping through your sobs as you felt the teeth marks on your neck closing up, skin building back fast and rough, stretching and burning until completely sealed into a scar of his bite. You were marked with his scent, with his life.

You could have sworn you blacked out, the pain becoming far too much to handle, too fragile as your heart beat fast, pumping back the blood you lost. By the time you came to, you were naked, sprawled out into a star shape, and unable to move. Yeonjun was nowhere to be found but the phantom of his bite and the tightness in your stomach lingered. A sob left you once more, unable to stop when the realization that this was all real crashed into you like a truck.

The more you moved your neck to see yourself, you realized how badly your body was used, bruises and bites riddled all over your arms and legs, scratches all over your torso, hips, and breasts. Your body burned, and arousal pooled under your ass as the aphrodisiac continued to move in waves, as disgusting as you felt you knew you needed Yeonjun. He did this to you, he knows you need him too, that’s why he left. You didn’t deserve this, everything was a mistake, you didn’t know an actual demon would be coming to torture and kill you, you just wanted to celebrate the spooky season.

“Why me..” You sobbed harder, tears rolling into your ears and hair. “Because you’re just so fun to play with darling~” You flinch, Yeonjun's voice vibrates through the walls, a rush of arousal and fear finds its way to you just at the sound of him.

“Stop this…Please..” You mutter helplessly. “But don’t you want my cock? Wanna be filled with my cum?” The demon taunted, still failing to show himself.

“I’ve cum so much in the time you’ve been out darling, your body is just so tasty I couldn’t help it.” You can hear the smirk in his voice before you see it, he’s crouching just at the foot of the bed watching your cunt push out more arousal. “Want me to fuck you?” He grins evilly, “Maybe I’ll keep you if you’re a good fuck, feed me so well.”

A whine leaves you at the thought of him splitting you open, nipples rubbing against one another as he thrusts, legs stretched wide and open for him to take you fully and completely. “Please- Yeonjun please-“ You needed him, needed him in you, anything to stop this sickening edge. “N-Need you-“ You whimper, as much as you wanted him you were terrified of what would happen afterward. You knew he’d kill you, but would it hurt, is it as painful as this? Is it as painful as knowing you’ll never see your friends and family again but all you can do is get dicked down beforehand.

Maybe this was a sign you were a shitty person after all, after the attempts to be a happy woman and live life to the fullest you still were horrible enough to suffer this way. “Get out of that pretty little head and look at me,” Yeonjun growled, eyes glowing in the darkness, his cock pushed against your folds so nicely, your slick way more than enough to help the stretch.

You let out a moan at the feeling of his cold cock, everything was cold about the demon, just another reminder he was anything but human. “Mmm so full already, you must not get good cock often.” The demon teased as he rubbed his cock against your sore clit. A whine was your only response, your hips unable to move. “Shh, Let master take care of you,” Yeonjun whispered before pushing in nice and slow.

“B-Big- too- Ah~ too much~” You moan out as the demon bottomed out into you. You were so close, so delirious, you could feel him everywhere. “Let me take over you, mmm yes~ Just like that, give in to me, melt under my cock.” Yeonjun growled as you clenched and shook. Slowly he dragged out of your soaked hole, letting the pull be nice and slow, he wanted you to feel it all, the veins, the way he emptied you and made you feel like nothing but a shell without his cock inside you.

“Please~ M-Mmmaster~ More please please please~ need you, nothing without your cock please-“ Your begging was cut fast as Yeonjun thrust himself right back into you, filling you so quickly you felt him in your throat. Your eyes rolled back as Yeonjun sped up, hitting that one spot that gave him such an incredible burst of energy. “You love master's cock huh? Say it! You love my cock don’t you?” Yeonjun’s hand found its way to your throat and his thrusts never slowed.

You were turned to mush, unable to even breathe as his hand tightened around your throat. Strained whines gargled from the back of your throat as you attempted to answer him. A loud “Nghh-yesss~“ left you as your toes curled and your pussy clenched around his cock that just would not stop ramming into the spongy part of your heat. Your orgasm hit like a truck, you couldn't hear or see Yeonjun anymore, and your body tingled like pins and needles pricked you all over.

It took a couple of seconds for your high to come down and soon you could see Yeonjun's changed, darkened, expression. He was still, staring at his fist that stayed closed slightly on your throat. Before you could draw in a breath, his eyes began to glow brighter, so bright you could make out the features on his face a lot better. They were sharper than before, his soft face long gone and replaced with the features of a true demon.

His cock stayed buried in your cunt, keeping you nice and full and his fist began to close tighter, causing panic to run through your veins and your lungs to burn as they pumped against each other fast for relief. You couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't think, you were going to die; he was going to kill you, you knew it. “Did Master say you could cum?” His voice was rough and deeper than before, leaving your already sore cunt to clench around him again.

“Oh~ you like when master has to threaten your life?” Yeonjun growled, completely unamused. Soon enough when he could hear your heart pick up in pace he let go of your throat, watching you gasp and shudder for air. “Be a good slut and lay pretty.” He growls out before digging his claws into your hips and beginning to abuse your sore, overused cunt again.

Your mouth fell open, whines, squeals, and mewls pulled from your burning, dry throat as he thrust fast and hard without reprieve. “This the good fuck you wanted huh? Give you my hot cum before I take that soiled little soul of yours.” Yeonjun leaned down into your face, forehead pressed against yours as he moved his hands to wrap your legs around his waist. You sobbed in response, completely numb in your lower half. You didn't want to die at all, you’ve barely even hit your mid-twenties.

The sight had Yeonjun reeling, his long snake tongue slipping out to lick the big fat tears that ran down your face with a hum at the saltiness. “Keep crying dollface, you're so tasty when you're this scared.” The demon taunted before pressing kisses to the violated side of your complexion.

You whimpered, unable to handle the fear of the fact that he not only was going to kill you, but he was going to enjoy every bit of it and make you orgasm again in the process. “Ah- yeah suck me in like that~ bring yourself closer to your last breath.” He moaned with a chuckle at the end, “Make master cum in your needy pussy,” he continued before throwing his head back at the way you clenched tighter. “Yes- oh yes just like that- mm~ you're so good~” Yeonjun whined before his heavy hips stuttered and stilled deep in you.

More tears fell, sobs loud and broken as your throat couldn't take the torture. “Nononono- please nnnah~” you begged the demon not to cum, not to stop and end your life. Your wails and cries did nothing as he spilled more and more cum deep into you, coating your gummy walls in his hot sticky seed. “Ah~ Yes~” Yeonjun sighed at the release he felt before thrusting just a bit more to milk out more of his cum, a ring of your creamy orgasms mixed against his balls.

“Mmm~ all done, dollface~” Yeonjun smirked as he watched you pant and scream for help. “Ngh~ yes keep begging, feels so good~” Yeonjun moaned out before pressing kisses against your jaw and cheek. “Wanna live! Please- I wanna live!” You begged him and turned your head to face him. “So cute~ But my mind is made up.” Yeonjun smiled before his jaw opened up wide and inhumanely.

You attempted to scream again, fear being the last emotion you felt as his chest puffed slightly, and your breath left you once again. You could feel your heart slow and your veins slowly rub against each other as your skin grayed out. You couldn't move or speak, just watch with teary eyes as he slurped up a wispy, white, and smoke-like ball. The moment he swallowed he pulled out of your mummified corpse, feeling full and satisfied. “Tasty to the end.” Yeonjun sighed before disappearing under those pesky covers.

it's cold

okay, I had to repost this so it could get out there. If this doesn't fix the issue I don't know what will to be honest.

[seiya234]

21 grams lighter

that website, amirite? anyway can't fucking believe alex did it again.

----

“Uncle Dipper, the school said you had to sign this?”

“Me specifically?”

Hank frowned. “Well, an adult in our house.”

“You’re the first one we found,” Willow added.

Dipper picked up the paper, skimming it quickly and. Oh.

Oh my god.

“Mabel are you in here?”

As the triplets wandered off, task done, a head covered in googly eyes popped out the kitchen door. “Mmmyes?”

Dipper brandished the papers. “Do you remember MADD?”

“Moms Are Down with Drugs? Yeah. We had to do those worksheets, and go to that rally in the gym, and there was a dog in a jacket.” Mabel paused. “Also, I don’t think they actually knew what it meant when you say you’re down with something.”

“Okay, so MADD… but for selling your soul.”

The googly eyes, with impeccable comedic timing, all fell off of Mabel’s face.

“No.”

“Oh my god, there’s a pamphlet.”

By now, Mabel had joined him at the table. “’Soul Selling: Not Even Once!’ Oh. Oh Dipper, this is bad.”

He was trying to hold in peals of laughter. “I know!”

“I don’t think this is going to discourage anyone.”

“I know.”

“And look, they basically give you the directions to summon five different demons in the name of Not Doing That, this is really, really bad.”

“I̶t̷'̴s̵ ̸f̸a̷n̶t̸a̴s̶t̷i̸c̵!̴”

Mabel looked at him, just looked at him for a minute, sadness welling deep in her eyes.

“No. No it’s really not.”

------

Trillions.

A number that is truly incomprehensible, much less in the context of time.

There were souls that rotted in that stomach longer than the oldest rocks of Earth.

--------

[from the M.A.D.D. Brochure, 2285]

“So remember kids, selling your soul doesn’t just effect you. It effects every version of you! It is an indelible mark that will linger for eternity, never changing, never going away. Paths, choices, loved ones, all will wither in the face of the horrible decision that you made! Eternity is forever, don’t make it your fault!”

[penciled in the margins, a note: “so we aren’t going to talk about social inequality or systemic racism then are we?”]

------------

(the most eternal, sacred part of a being)

Dipper had been a demon for all of a month, if that, when he was offered his first soul. For a while, he… didn’t really do anything with them.

When he did, it was of course super traumatic for everyone involved but eh, that kind of went with the territory of everything that was happening in his life lately.

Point being, he never was sure why Bill kept everyone trapped inside of him, constantly screaming, constantly playing beach tunes to drown them out. No, better to eat them, get the power, set them free.

Like, obviously, not great to be eating souls in the first place, and yeah, yeah, he could tell, even ten thousand (ten million) (ten billion) years later who he had crunch munched through, but like, they were able to be out there living their lives! Doing stuff. Cycling back through.

Honestly. What had Bill been planning to do with them?

--------

For the first week after it happened, animals ran away from Mabel.

Not just cats and dogs but all animals. Flocks of birds would fly off at her approach, deer would get near the Shack and then run off, and Gompers disappeared into the woods.

After the bear ran screaming from her, Mabel put two and two together, and called Dipper.

“Is this forever?”

Dipper frowned. “What do you mean?”

Mabel waved at her body. “This.”

(it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair she was only 16/18/22/17, she didn’t mean for this to happen, she only wanted to live, he only wanted her to live, this wasn’t f a i r )

“Oh. Uh. Um.”

“Dipper. Just. Tell. Me.”

“Hold on.” He reached into his stomach, and pulled out something…. Ineffable.

It felt like every single cell in Mabel’s body was reaching towards it, she found herself walking towards Dipper’s open hand.

The demon looked at her.

“You can have it back.”

She was crying. When did she start crying? And more worryingly, why did it feel like this was the first real, true thing she had felt in a week?

He pushed the Ineffable thing into her chest, and Mabel sank to the ground, sobbing. She felt whole again.

She didn’t realize that she hadn’t been whole, not truly, not until now.

Alcor smirked. “Consider it… out on lease. I’ll take it back eventually.”

She should have challenged him on that. Should have asked him about that. Should have done a million trillion other things.

But Mabel was human. And scared. And so, so very young.

---------

(you were birds)

A young man with fluffy brown hair, mixing his blood with his sister and his new brother-in-law, making a promise.

(you were trees with roots entangled)

They made a family together, it was a beautiful family, they let him stay, stay when anyone else would have told him to leave.

(wherever we go next, whatever you choose, I will always be right there with you)

They fit, like spoons in a drawer, like yin and yang, salt and pepper, ketchup and mustard, literally a million different pairings you could compare the two of them to. They weren’t perfect but love doesn’t need to be, and shouldn’t be perfect.

(that’s done buddy)

One grave

(congratulations)

Another grave, but eighty years later.

(you chose Alcor instead)

[mins-fins]

self control — [ mark lee — 엔시티. ]

where no matter how stubborn he may be, it's only you that mark lee really wants.. | now playing ❅

people tend to do the worst of things to cope when they're unhappy.

for mark, it's many things. scribbling down equally depressive song lyrics, smoking, retreating himself from everyone, drinking, the occasional late night hookup..

and also standing in front of his ex boyfriends door at eleven pm.

listen, mark isn't an easy guy. you two have already been broken up for months, it isn't as if this is some planned decision, it's a spare of the moment arbitration that mark would've never made if he was in his right mind.

but the thing is, he is in his right mind. it's not like he's drunk or high, he could use the excuse that his feet dragged him all the way over here, yet you would never take that with any sort of reason. it was either this or sinking back into his work, which he doesn't exactly want to do.

he contemplates as he stares at your door, just fucking brown hard wood. nothing special. he clears his throat as he raises his fist to land a knock, his anxiety rising as silence again fills the hallway.

he hears shuffling behind other doors, jazz music faintly playing, a few neighbors arguing, but it's all tuned out in favor of the the footsteps rapidly approaching behind your door. he thinks he might have enough time to ru—

"..oh, hi".

your tone is inquiring, and mark understands why. seeing your ex in front of your door after three months of simply silence is strange, and there's nothing behind your eyes but pure confusion.

mark stares with his big eyes bugged out freakishly, he blinks as he collects the words he so desperately rehearsed before deciding to knock your door. "uh— hi, i'm sorry i don't know why.."

he can't speak, because you're looking at him with those eyes. it's really hard to focus when everything is happening.

"can we talk?"

seamless segway, your eyes drag over mark's entire figure, he tenses up in a way he knows you can clearly sense. "sure" you whisper, face scrunching at your tone.

mark enters and immediately wants to shrink. he likes your place, he always has loved your place, it's why he preferred going to you in comparison to you going to him. the expanse of a space holds solace, memories, and many moments of drunk sobbing that mark's lips take an upturn at.

"so why do you want to talk?"

oh, right, his excuse, mark's lips take a downturn. his hands shove into his pockets as he rocks back and forth on his heels, his tongue coming to lick at his lips. it's so strange to see you act so normal,

okay so maybe averting eyes and cheeks that are tinted red can't be described as 'normal' around your ex.

"i don't, i lied and i didn't know what to say when i saw you actually opened your door for me".

you pause, then, you chuckle, head topping downward as your gaze laser focuses on the floor. "that's funny.."

"yeah".

good god it's awkward.

you shrug your shoulders, spinning on your heel as you motion towards the kitchen. "do you want hot chocolate?"

mark shakes his head silently, settling onto your couch, quickly sinking into the comfortable cushions.

you blink, sighing as you settle beside him, the air again growing awkward as you place your hands into your lap, exhaustion clear in your eyes.

"is this weird?"

"after three months yeah" you snicker at your own words. "i probably would've understood if you came around like a few weeks after? but this was really random.."

"yeah".

"so what gives?"

"i.."

i missed you, no i miss you, i want you so bad, i'm sorry for overworking myself then dismissing your worries, random people at bars can't compare to you y/n, i want you back.

"i don't know".

you hum, kissing your teeth.

mark intently watches the movement of your lips and absolutely hates himself for doing so.

"it's not normal to randomly show up at your exes place, mark".

you didn't have to tell mark that, he opts to glance away on his shame. you relax your back against the cushion, biting the inside of your cheek. "so either you want me back.. or you're going to assassinante me".

oh well, you've always been good at reading mark's mind.

mark straightens his posture, scooting closer. "i miss you" he whispers, sucking his teeth at his own words. he sounds like some desperate loser who never got over his ex, oh wait.. that is what he is.

who cares? it's past ten o'clock, being ashamed of his actions is simply not needed. "a lot.. it's embarrassing".

"not really that embarrassing if you just told me right now".

mark is very desperate, his hands find purchase on your legs. you stare, and he stares back, eye contact much too difficult to avoid. "i don't know, it still kinda is.." he draws shapes into your pants, eyes flitting towards your lips.

how obvious can he be?

his eyes again widen exponentially as you catch him staring bright as day. well, he threw shame out of the window a long long time ago.

"did you miss me too?"

you contemplate on your words, a trial that only gets the anxiety back up on mark's tail. his bottom lip is caught between his teeth, a certain look in his eye that you seem to find amusing.

mark begins chewing on his lip as he impatiently awaits an answer, maybe he should shout, or scream, or.. something, it's embarrassing how spontaneous his responses are.

and he's about to scream, but you decide to answer his question by leaning forward, soft lips pressing against his.

they've always been soft, well chapped, a smooth force that seem to contrast with his own. he unfortunately can't keep his composure, letting his arms come up to wrap around your neck as you fall backward, mark messily staggering into your lap as he keeps you two pressed together.

it would be an understatement to say that he's addicted, your hands slide down towards his hips, and he sighs against your lips. he tugs you closer, as if the heat radiating from you isn't enough, as if he wants to be one with you.

his left hand comes down to cradle the side of your face, nothing else mattering. maybe your neighbors have begun fighting again, the women across the hall is baking chocolate chip cookies, your package might've arrived just now, but fuck it, who cares? mark knows he doesn't.

the only reason for separation is air, but mark could fathom kissing you until he ran out of breath, his fingers beginning to play with the hem of your shirt as he watches the rise and fall of your chest.

"yeah" your voice has a rasp to it that makes mark dizzy for a second. "missed you too".

mark parts his lips, staring down at yours. his eyes are blown wide, sparkling under the light of the lamp which barely illuminates the living room. "then maybe you should kiss me again".

you snort, but you oblige once more, allowing for mark to capture his soft lips once again. they taste like cherries, oh you never change, mark is positively going crazy. after a month of shady motel rooms including people he can barely remember, mark could never get you out of his mind.

mark tugs at your bottom lip, another small breath falling from his lips. he doesn't like cherries much, he just likes how they taste on your lips.

"you know exes don't do this right?"

mark pinches your collarbone, drawing a wince. "you know how to ruin the mood you.."

he can't exactly collect his words, your smile is taunting. "just don't talk about it".

"then we'll have to awkwardly talk in the morning".

mark shakes his head, cheeks a soft rose red. "who cares? were doing this now".

he isn't exactly sure why he's so.. determined, per say, but maybe kissing just draws something different from him. "so you want to sleep with me then not talk about tomorrow morning?"

"who cares about tomorrow? i'm focusing on right now".

you again decide to snicker, resting your forehead on mark's chest. you clearly find his words extremely amusing, but your fingers begin caressing under his shirt, the ministrations as comforting as they are calming.

"hey," mark softly calls out, eyes lidded heavily. "you know if we don't do this right now, i could die, and do you want me to die without getting in my pants one last time?"

how stupid, mark sees it in the way you laugh. "you're ridiculous".

"but i'm right".

you roll your eyes, still completely smitten. "okay, sure" you then pull him closer. "since you want me so bad".

mark attempts his best scowl. "you're so full of yourself".

your smile is beautiful, but mark still has to feign vexation at the sight. "and you talk too much".

"oh and what are you going to do? shut me u—"

mark yelps as you decide to turn the tables, now having him be the one under you. "yea, gladly".

and maybe mark isn't so against that idea.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Tangzi, when he and Pigsy adopt MK, know exactly what he's doing in the tiger au. He knows this is someone just like his uncle/big brother Wukong and he looks forward to the day Wukong returns to claim him as a student and also because Wukong been isolating himself for way too long ever since sealing uncle DBK in a depressive episode. It's why he tells MK so many Monkey King stories (also be ause he legit thinks his uncle is the coolest ever)

Prev.

Tangzi (or just "Tang" to his friends) recognises what the "weird muddy kid" in Pigsy's restaurant actually is the moment he sees the little guy.

Him and Pigsy (one of Bajie's many many grandkids), have been dear friends for as long as they could remember. Although Pigsy is farther removed from the lore of Journey to the West than Tang is, he accepts that "weird nonsense" will happen to him at some point or other in his life.

He calmly (as much as he can without shaking with excitement) explains to his dear Piggy that the "human toddler" is in fact; a very rare baby stone monkey demon with a glamour spell on it. Pigsy is confused, but rolls with it since it's an already odd situation - he just wants to make sure that the little guy is safe.

Over the course of the chaotic reports to CPS and checking police records for any missing kids, a pair of childhood friends slowly begin to realise not only feelings for one another, but also that little MK (short for "mystery kid" as Pigsy called him at first)/Xiaotian needs a home that will understand his unique situation...

A call is made to Tang's mother to inform him of the situation...

Tang, astral projecting: "Hi mom!" Tripitaka, meditating with Guanyin: "Oh! Tangzi! It's been some time since you've made contact. How is the outside world?" Tang, obviously nervous: "FINE! Uh... I mean... something happened at Pigsy's place. Nothing bad. Just uh... let me just get him. It's easier to explain." (*pops out of focus to get something*) Tripitaka, tired sigh: "Merciful Buddha. I've told you, that boy gets himself into all sorts of trouble. He's nearly as bad as his-" Tang: (*holds up a baby monkey demon so they appear in the projection*) Tang, awkward smile: "TA-DA!" (*Nearly a full minute of silence ensues as both Tripitaka and Guanyin watch the baby monkey demon clinging to Tang's fur*) Tripitaka, stunned: "...what?" Tang, getting pawed at by the baby: "So uh-! This little guy was found wandering outside the restaurant - in a human glamour by the way - and he is definitely a... special case I would say!" Tripitaka. trying to regain composure: "Although uncommon in this day and age, street children still tragically do occur. This child should be turned over to the authorities, and if luck provided; a next of kin. I trust that you've made the appropriate calls." Tang, nervously tugs at scarf: "Yeaaaah, about that... me and Pigsy have decided to keep him." Tripitaka: "What!? You're but a young man yourself! To take on the responsibility of a child is no light commitment!" Tang: "Trust me. He made it an easy decision." Baby Monkey: (*reaches out towards the two Bodhisattvas*) Guanyin, realising: "He can see us." Tripitaka, waves to the baby: "Hmm? Well, that is nice. Hello dear. but it doesn't explain why my youngest child has- wait." (*Tang slowly lifts a tuff of hair on the baby monkeys' forehead, revealing glowing golden eyes amidst a familiar-shaped face marking*) Tang: "He's... like eldest brother Wukong." Tripitaka, squeaks: "What?" Wukong: (*phases in with his own projection. A delighted cheeky grin on his face.*) Wukong: "Yup! He's a genuine Stone-Egg-born Monkey! I checked on him and around the island, and it looks like the little guy popped right out of a fragment of my old rock! How he got to the city, I'll never know. Probably sneezed so hard that he launched himself across the sea and into a different form!" Tang: "And now he's going to be part of the family! Me and Pigsy have been sorting out the legal stuff. Say hi Xiaotian!" Baby Monkey: (*happy burbling baby sounds!*) Tripitaka: "...OOOoooooohh!" (*dramatically faints*) Tang: "Oops... is he ok auntie?" Guanyin, catching Tripitaka as he fell: "All is calm, Tangzi. Your mother is merely overwhelmed by the prospect of being a grandparent to a Celestial Stone Monkey." Wukong, laughing: "I'm more shocked that it's his first grandchild!"

Sun Wukong had been the first person Tang contacted, obviously. Wukong had panicked and flipped - turning the island upside down to try and figure out how the baby monkey happened.

But the cheeky monkey didn't want to pass up on seeing his master's/adoptive father's reaction to learning about the new baby in the family. >:3

He can't wait to see the look on the Brotherhood's faces when they learn. It'd be a good reason to finally reunite the old gang after the fallout of DBK's imprisonment.

[lunarscaled]

-> If you come to see that day. Was that posing their life on a contingency? Dedicated to his work he may seem, but it seemed once one experiment was over it would be on to the next---that was how science worked, of course. Ever in the pursuit of higher knowledge did one create and discard masterpieces, fruits of their labor swiftly set aside in a box, yes yes that's well and good but what comes next? And Lyric didn't care for it. Being treated as discardable. It was one thing for them to place and remove themselves from people's lives on their own whim, but not a privilege which should ever be held in anyone else's grip. They were not a creature to be leashed; not a carnival illusion for the foolish. What a barker would have you believe is the World Serpent is nothing more than an overgrown anaconda painted to their desires. Lyric tries not to look too closely at the Hollow on the table as they finally manage to sit themselves up and steady themselves on their arms. It wasn't that the grotesque frightened them, but that its unseemly convulsing gave the sickly pantomime of something not quite dead. As if he could resurrect it after massacring its insides.

"My own good? You don't even know me! ---And big talk about making cures, but I'm pretty sure you've never been to medical school. A vaccine and a scalpel are the same to you."

-> Irritating. His seemingly vapid delight surrounding their struggle and contention, his work, some fake responsibility and fondness for the concept of them kept in this glass testing chamber. How helpless they are, how hopeless. How victim to his sudden tension at the rejection of his ideal that makes an echo of pain run down their nerves---as dogs beat too many times will cower before a lifted hand, Lyric grits their teeth and knows where this is going. They don't stop it because they would rather fight on their knees than lay down and die without contention, but his stare puts them firmly in place like a hand gripping the back of their head, knotted in their hair.

"I said, what if I don't wanna be perfect?"

"What's the point in that? I mean, it's basically impossible anyways. Maybe not for you, but for a human, perfection is completely out of the question. You may as well give up on that idea."

Even in their arrogance, they request to leave. As though that alone would silence the inferno that was the phoenix himself. He gives them a grin, a sign he was amused as he turns to face Lyric head on. ❝ If you come to see that day, it will be a glorious one. ❞ He said, looking at the tools before him, the dissected hollow now jolting here and there from all the work he had put into testing the body and limit of his own kind. His gaze had long decided to leave Lyric's, to let it fester in them that they were as bound to him as the plague. Gloved digits tapped upon the dissection table, giving in a little giggle at the way they seemed to ache to go to a place they will most likely never see again.

Not as long as he lived.

❝ It is not sickness that is running through your veins, but a cure to your imperfection. I am doing this for your own good, Lyric. ❞

And for his amusement. Ah, but that would be saved for another time.

Their comment on defying perfection made his body go still, what was once a smile now formed into a cold stare as he turned to face them head on.

❝ ... What did you just say? ❞ A chance for Lyric to step back, to hold their bark for his bite was about to maul them.

[sasha-artheart]

You need to open the door.

I have a surprise~!

Uh oh! Bad decision, Mark!

[sincerely-sofie]

Chapter 1 of Sofie Plays "Slay the Princess": The Hero and the Princess

Into the insanity.

[ Beginning ] - [ Previous Part ] - [ Next Part ]

I like that we have a little bird talon as our cursor! Fun detail. I'd like to use custom cursors in my own visual novels someday.

Awww! This line is going to come back to bite me, isn't it.

THERE'S VOICE ACTING?????? DANG IT. Now I kinda wish I waited to record myself playing through this game like a let's play... alas. We persist with a playthrough journal comprised of still images and bullet point notes :<

Asked the Narrator how a princess locked in a basement could be dangerous enough to end the world and now I just want to have a perpetual sleepover with the gal. At the very least, we can give her some company while she's down there. Right?

Asked the narrator for details on how she'd end the world and now he's calling me a sheeple. RUDE.

Question: Does the Princess have actual powers that allow her to enforce her will on others? Or is this just the Narrator being anti-princess? or anti-this-Princess-in-particular?

I INSTANTLY DISTRUST THIS MAN. He's going to gaslight me to heck and back, isn't he? He already is, I just know it.

Told the narrator I'm going to meet the Princess before I make any decisions about executions. I'm doubting myself so bad. Is he the manipulator here? Is he genuinely warning me against the Princess being the true manipulator? He sounds uber bitter and I want to know their history.

Narrator, honey, I'm glad you've got a bit you're committed to and all, but I don't want to meet someone new whilst holding the means to end them. Forget taking the blade, I'm taking my sweet time getting to know this poor woman.

Okay yeah the Narrator is 100% not a good guy. That last line made me question whether he was voicing the Hero's thoughts, but the tone he used while saying it makes me feel like he's just working really hard at applying for the role of Intrusive Thought #4 Understudy.

THESE DIALOGUE OPTIONS ARE KILLING ME. NOOOOOO DO NOT LIE TO HER WHEN YOU SAY YOU'RE HERE TO SAVE HER!!! THAT'S MEAN!!!!!

Told the Princess "Uh hi I think I'm here to slay you? Question mark?" and she responded with this:

The Narrator immediately followed up with the below. Go kick rocks Narrator. I want to at least be polite if I'm going to kill someone.

Can't decide whether the Princess is playing at the role of innocent victim or not. We operate on innocent until proven guilty laws here, though. So I'll act accordingly.

Just met the Princess and the Hero is INSTANTLY simping for her as the Narrator looks on in distaste. Straight up "HI WIFEY" nonsense. I like this couple.

Oh my word he's a dork. I love this character.

Told her about why I'm supposed to kill her and I'm 100% believing what she said. I don't care if she's going to sprout fangs and disembowel me with her teeth or anything, I adore this gal.

Oh no. She accurately read my thought process.

Okay so here's a theory: The Narrator really hates monarchies. Which is fair. But this seems very personal for him, and he keeps bringing it up, like the Princess deserves to die for the sin of her being a princess. Is this some kind of worldwide magic anti-monarchist government overthow situation? I know that's definitely not the case but I am grasping at straws to understand his motivation.

I asked her how she's been eating or drinking when I'm apparently the only person she's seen in a very, very long time, and she dodged the question, and the Narrator backed her up. This lady is 100% not human. The Narrator is itching to get me to kill her and is sweeping over what the Hero perceives as a plot hole, because from his perspective, he knows it isn't. She's not human. Jotting that down for later.

I told her that we could do the perpetual sleepover thing I mentioned earlier and I'm realizing how callous of a solution that is now that the Hero is all like "Yay I came up with smart solution! Win-win! Go me :D"

The Princess and Narrator both shot down the sleepover solution. Poor Hero.

The music just cut out. She's doing the anime mean girl thing where she examines her nails. I'm having regrets.

I'M STRAIGHT UP NOT HAVING A GOOD TIME ANYMORE, GUYS

On the one hand: I could lock her in the basement and leave without killing her with my own hands. But with the abrupt change in tone I am no longer confident that this woman isn't going to chew off her own arm like a coyote in a trap so that she can escape and do... whatever it is she intends to do. I'm not sure that's exactly ending the world. But I'm leery of it regardless. She doesn't need food or water apparently, so she likely wouldn't die if I left her alone down here, which just further cements the idea that she's going to do anything necessary to get out.

On the other hand: I could kill her directly, and try to be merciful about how I do it.

On the OTHER other hand, I could free her, but I no longer feel safe around this woman.

I've been staring at these options for so long guys I'm so worried about making the wrong choice. I know that the opening screen said there's no wrong decisions but like. STILL.

Okay, decision made. She's definitely taking the self-dismemberment route if I leave her here, and she's definitely coming after me the second she's out. I'd rather try to make this quick than go through the exceptionally frightening scenario I'm envisioning in my head. Hopefully she's nice about inevitably overpowering me in the subsequent struggle and stabbing me afterward.

Hey, you guys know how 3D horror games will use 90 degree angle blind corners in order to facilitate jump scares? I think I just realized visual novels use line breaks to accomplish the same goal, and I'm scared to progress to the next line.

SHE IS GOING TO CHEW THROUGH THAT ARM AND I NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE ASAP.

I CALLED IT I CALLED IT I AM NOT HAPPY ABOUT HAVING CALLED IT SOMEBODY PICK UP THE PHONE BECAUSE I CALLED IT AND NOW I NEED 911 ON THE LINE

Oh cool beans! Reality warping! Let's gooooooooo

Yeah no she's definitely got reality warping abilities. I figured that if she doesn't need to eat or drink she wouldn't be able to bleed to death after losing an arm, so I closed the door behind me... and it locked.

Decided to try and wait her out while she lurks in the shadows and now we're LARping Sans and Chara as I fall asleep.

I chickened out and entered the dark to confront her. It went very well for me!

Oh... I don't like that title.

See you guys in the next chapter! I am scared :)

[papercupids]

living w svt; headcanons (maknae line version)

or alternatively, sweet sweet domestic fluff scenarios w the maknae line of svt

pairing -> lee chan x reader, vernon x reader & seungkwan x reader.

warnings -> nothing, it's all fluff.

words -> 1.3k

a/n -> this idea came to me so randomly but domestic fluff is a scenario i love so much and i decided to do this !!!! the '97 line is ready as well and it will be out next week i think <3 enjoy !!! :)

-> read the '97 line version here -> read the '96 line version here

☆ chan.

"oh, babe you're up," chan calls out as he hears the door unlock and you're met with the lights on in the living room, not that the darkness in your room already didn't tell you that the sun had already set.

you wanted to take a nap just for an hour, since it was the weekend, but also what you did not want was to sacrifice time from one of the only days that you would get with chan and you'd slept after telling him to wake you up. bad decision, really, because he never woke you up unless it was necessary.

currently you were way too much in love with him to be mad at him for not waking you up. so you sit on the couch beside him and lean your head onto his shoulder and cuddle his arms.

"feeling okay?"

"mmhm, just a little hungry. i think i'll go have the leftover pizza. what are we watching?"

"uh, i'm not sure, whatever you want?"

"i'll go grab the pizza, just put on one of your favourites,"

the favourites were movies that were very diverse in genre. both of you had some movies that you liked in common (namely, some disney movies, some ghibli movies and some romcoms that ended with you both crying on the couch) and some horror/thriller movies that you liked (and chan pretended to not be scared but you could always count on him to have a pillow on his face to save himself from witnessing jumpscares) and a few drama movies from chan's choice (that you considered way too boring and almost always dozed off in the middle of them and chan always had to carry you to the bedroom).

"should i put on frozen? frozen 2?"

there was no answer. chan was suddenly scared.

"babe?"

just what he was afraid of. the pizza box dumped in the garbage bin.

"do you care to explain what happened to my leftover pizza? that i specifically told you i wanted to eat later?"

he laughed nervously.

"i was hungry, babe," he whines.

"and you didn't even tell me you ate it, you’re such a liar, oh my god, i can't believe i'm living with you. what more could have you have lied to me about,"

chan came closer, carefully as your back faces him, his arms wrap around you and feels your comforting smell around him. even though you were being mad at him and this was the worst possible time to be thinking of this, but he loves you. he truly does. 

"let's order again, or better yet? let me make you something?"

that brings a certain excitement to your face as you turn your face to where he's resting his face on your shoulder. 

"really?"

"anything for you, my love,"

"except saving pizza,"

"i'll save it for you, next time, c'mon,"

seungkwan.

"seungkwan, i swear to god, if i clash into anything,"

"you won't, you won't, don't you trust me?"

"not really, but i'm blindfolded and my only help is you right now, so, i'll lie,"

seungkwan had took the opportunity of you both crossing the 3 year mark today to blindfold you and lead you somewhere and although contrary to what you said, you did trust him, but you couldn't help but think about what this could lead to.

after walking around a bit with holding his hand like a lifeline, he finally stops, the keypad beeps as he enters the code in, and you wondered if you were at his place, or some hotel? or somewhere? you couldn't figure it out.

"you can open it now,"

and your hands fly to the knot of the cloth tied around your eyes, and you find yourself standing in the doorway of an apartment. the door was open and you could see seungkwan's sofa and his favourite coffee table. and as you finished taking in the scene of one of the most pretty living rooms you've seen - complete with big windows and a kitchen on the left side.

"what is this, kwannie?"

"uh, an apartment, my apartment to be specific. but," he bends down on one knee, and takes out the key and a note of paper which has the code to the door. "do you wanna move in with me?"

"oh my god, seungkwan,"

"is that a good oh my god, or a bad one,"

"oh my god,"

"my knee, babe, my knee," he joking points that his knees hurt fron kneeling as you try to take in his proposal.

"ofcourse, yes, kwannie, are you kidding,"

since he hasn't gotten up yet, you bend down to hug him, right in the doorway, and pretty soon you're both on your knees.

"i love you so much,"

-

a few days later, you’re sitting on one of the boxes as a makeshift stool, your coffee on the table, as you sipped it, the sunlight came in through the window and warmth spread throughout the room. you couldn't believe that after such a long time, being childhood sweethearts, then a tough, tough phase of a long distance relationship, you were finally here. here with the love of your life sleeping soundly in the bedroom that you both shared.

albeit a lot of unpacking was yet to be done, you looked around the home that was now for the both of you.

a morning has never felt this good.

and as if summoned, your lover wraps his arms around you from the back, "good morning,"

you turn yourself to face him and cup his face, placing a soft kiss on his lips, cheek and then finally, his forehead. 

"indeed, a good morning,"

☆ vernon.

there’s sunlight on your face, vernon thinks. and it makes your face glow in ways he didn't think was humanly possibly. even when you're half drooling on his chest, and have your arm and leg wrapped around him, with disheveled bed hair, to him, you’re the most beautiful creature alive.

his hand strokes your face softly and sonewhere between that, your eyes flutter open.

"we fell asleep on the couch again?"

he nods, smiling as he takes your features in.

it was one of the things that you both often did together, had dinner, put on a movie, cuddled and then fell asleep on the couch, no matter how small it was compared to the bed that occupied the bedroom, it seemed to be way more sleep-able and you were convinced that you'd slept more on the couch than ever on the bed.

"we should stop falling asleep on the sofa,"

"hmm, maybe,"

"maybe, why? the bed's clearly bigger,"

vernon doesn't say anything he just keeps on looking at your hands clasped together, plays lightly with your fingers, he loves mornings like these, when there’s nothing like a deadline or an alarm, no schedules to be attended to or nothing expected of him. just being here, with you and he has the freedom to use the day as he pleases. he loves that.

"but you know," he gets distracted a bit, fixing your hair away from your face, he doesn't wsnt it to be covered, not even a bit. "the bed's clearly bigger, babe,"

and you look at him, confused, as to why he repeated what you just said.

he chuckles, "oh my clueless angel, when we sleep on the bed, we don't have to be so close because it's so big, but the couch on the other hand," he emphasises his point by pulling you in closer, closer that you already were and you csn count his eyelashes, see his skin so closely that you can make out tiny bumps in them.

"we need to be close like this,"

"so you were the mastermind behind this,"

"obviously,"

"you're so frustrating, ugh," and you try to wiggle your hands away from his grasp to sneakily make their way to his tickle spots mainly around his stomach and his sides.

he bursts out laughing soon enough, but you can't defend against him when he comes in with the tickle attacks. 

both of your laughters mixed together carries to the room a few steps away, the bedroom, the bed completely made and untouched as the sun pierces through the window casting a golden light on the sheets.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Oh my god, the cliffhanger! 😱

🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞

Hahaha glad it had you hooked!

138 or 1k - whatever I reach first!

---

His mustache is completely gone. Hmm. Buck can’t quite tell if he’s glad or disappointed. 

“Part of your face is gone,” Dove complains. So he’ll mark her down as unhappy with the change, then. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Eddie says calmly. “I just shaved. That’s all. My face is fine.”

“I told him it looked weird,” Chris whispers to Buck. 

Dove is still pouting. 

Buck is really surprised either of them cares this much about Eddie’s facial hair. 

“Dove,” Buck says. “It’s not super polite to, uh, frown at the way someone looks. Why don’t you come here and meet Chris?”

Dove narrows her eyes unhappily, looking especially stormy. But she does as Buck asks. She walks up to where he and Christopher are standing, body language tight and a tiny bit closed off. 

“Christopher, this is Dove,” Buck says. “Dove, Chris. I’m sure your dad explained it, Chris, but I’m adopting her.”

“Cool,” Chris shrugs. “Hi, Dove.”

“Hi,” Dove replies. 

It’s a little… Icy?

“Okay,” Eddie says. The look on his face makes it clear he’s noticing the same thing Buck is. “Who wants pizza?”

“And cake!” Buck adds. “There’s also cake.”

Surely junk food will thaw this tension, right?

▪️▪️▪️

Wrong. 

Buck is actually disastrously wrong. If anything, dinner is worse. 

For one thing, Buck and Eddie don’t actually get a chance to talk before they all sit down to eat. Which means Buck doesn’t know what happened over these past five days, beyond Eddie going to El Paso to bring Chris home. He doesn’t know how he accomplished this or where they’re at. He doesn’t know either of their emotional states. He doesn’t know why Eddie didn’t tell him what he was doing. He’s full of questions, empty on answers. He reasons it shouldn’t matter, as long as Chris is home. But it ends up mattering. Quite a bit.

There’s a weird energy even from the start of the meal. Dove keeps staring at Christopher. At first Buck worries it’s because of his crutches. But then it keeps happening after they sit down. She’s got this contemptuous little glare that’s sort of intense. Especially for such a small, usually sweet child. 

If Chris is put off, he doesn’t show it like a person normally might. He almost seems to be enjoying the negative attention coming his way. Like he can see a pot and makes the active decision to stir it. 

“This new house is okay,” he says at one point. “But I really miss the loft.” 

“What’s the loft?” Dove asks. 

“My old home before here,” Buck answers. “It was in an apartment building.”

“It was really cool,” Chris says, tiny smirk on his mouth. 

Dove’s bottom lip juts out a little.

“Why don’t we live there?” She asks. 

“It only had one bedroom,” Buck explains. “I needed to move into a home with two so you could come live with me.”

“Oh,” she says. 

“Too bad you’ll never know what it was like,” Chris shrugs before taking a bite of his pizza.

Dove looks visibly upset. 

“Chris,” Eddie whispers, shaking his head. But if it’s meant to be any sort of scolding, it’s very soft. Almost a plea. Please don’t. Not just don’t.  

They’re still on thin ice with each other, and Eddie doesn’t want to rock the boat. 

Well, Eddie… The waters are a little rough. 

“What?” Chris asks. “Just saying.” 

“Well, there’s plenty cool about this house, too,” Buck says. “Like, it doesn’t take an elevator to get to it. And, it’s really close to your house, Chris.”

“It’s true,” Eddie nods encouragingly. “We can see each other more. Not even worry about traffic.”

“Yeah, you can come over all the time,” Buck adds on. “Any time you want. If you want.”

“Thanks, Buck,” Christopher mumbles.

Dove glares at Chris. Like by accepting Buck’s offer, he’s slighted her terribly. 

Buck and Eddie exchange an uneasy glance. 

“So, uh, hey…” Buck tries. “Chris, what do you want to do now that you’re home? There must be so much to catch up on, right?”

Chris shrugs. “I guess so. It would be nice to do a lot of things that we didn’t have in Texas.”

“Y-yeah?” Buck asks, pleased with the change in direction. “Like what?”

“Mm,” Chris shrugs. “The beach maybe? But it’s probably not very warm.”

“We can still go!” Eddie says quickly. A little too enthusiastically. “Just… Less swimming. Or, get wetsuits?”

Wow, Eddie is desperate. He hates swimming in cold water. 

“We totally could,” Buck nods. 

Dove’s jaw drops. “We were supposed to go to the beach!”

Buck’s stomach twists. Uh oh. 

“We could all go, Dove,” Eddie suggests. “Wouldn’t that be fun?” 

She grits her jaw and crosses her arms. 

“Dove,” Buck tries. “We live right near the ocean. We can go to the beach lots of times. With Eddie and Chris, and just you and I, too.” 

Dove grimaces, unconvinced. 

“Hey, come on,” Buck says gently. “It’s a good thing. Like, how we went to the zoo? You know the zoo would also be fun with-”

“You went to the zoo without me?” Chris demands. 

Well, fuck.

“Uh…” Buck turns to him. “Yes. Once.”