#Why can I not make poll questions pink?

[itachiiwrites]

Part of the Lover!jjk series.

A/N: So Sukuna won the poll, this is my first time writing for him. I hope I did him justice lol

Part 1.

Ryomen Sukuna was a firm advocate that love was a dangerous fantasy for mortals, and such fantasies were cathartic when there is a lot to be afraid of, however, the king of curses didn't have anything to be afraid of.

Loverboy!Sukuna who thought at first that love was nothing but a myth for someone like him, since the core of his existence stemmed from bane, from malevolence.

Loverboy!Sukuna who thought you were a measly, mortal fool when you tried to convince him love did indeed exist. But wait..why was he thinking of how gentle you sounded while you were spewing bullshit about something that doesn't exist?

Loverboy!Sukuna who started looking forward to your exchange of anecdotes with him, he felt comfort in the fact that someone was willing to listen to his story, not out of fear as other people in his life, but out of genuine curiosity besides Uraume.

Loverboy!Sukuna who starts directing his attention to delicate varieties of flowers that he'd usually take pleasure in crushing and turning into ashes. His thoughts wander upon how those same flowers would look tucked behind your ear or in your hair.

Loverboy!Sukuna who asks Uraume to bring him any small, dainty kind of flowers with a subtle, thoughtful smile on his lips and an uncharacteristic, benign look in his eyes. Uraume’s eyes nearly fall out of their sockets at how soft their lord is acting. Was it really him?

Loverboy!Sukuna who takes you by surprise when he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ears and tucks the flower behind your ear. “What was that for, king?” You asked with a slightly bewildered smile on your face to which he could only muster up a nonchalant reply “Do you need to ask questions for everything I do, mortal? (how would the king of curses admit he's feeling his heart race, that's weak.)

Loverboy!Sukuna who obviously doesn't do things conventionally and takes you on a proper date at a restaurant by scaring everyone else away so it's just the two of you and the (very terrified) staff—privacy is important between lovers after all, he lived by that virtue.

Loverboy!Sukuna who has a scowl on his face and he spits out a “what.” When you ask him if you could tie pink ribbons onto his enormous 4 arms—but then gives into your ridiculous request anyway.

Loverboy!Sukuna who thinks of all the ways he'll punish you in bed after you teased him for having witnessed the helix of his ears turn pink, seeing someone like him adorned in pink ribbons.

Loverboy!Sukuna who miserably fails at punishing you, or fuck you rough when he notices how glassy your eyes are when one of his two cocks is not even halfway inside your poor, battered cunt.

Loverboy!Sukuna who talks you through it, having you in missionary when heian era he was used to fucking his concubines from the back. Even your face was cupped in his palms, so tenderly. “You can take it woman, easy..breathe for me.”

Loverboy!Sukuna who for the first time makes note of what feels good to his partner and what doesn't, taking it very seriously.

Loverboy!Sukuna promises himself that in this lifetime, where he took on the kinder path, he'd make you his wife, the only one and not a concubine.

Loverboy!Sukuna who feels the monster in him fall silent the moment he rests his head onto your lap.

[eveninggstar]

Princess Treatment

Summary: Whilst on stream, your viewers ask why you don’t have “smoking fingers” and you provide an answer.

Warnings: reader smokes, reader is intended to be female, one sexual innuendo, pre-established relationship, reader gets nails done, no use of y/n

A/N: i watched a clip thing on tiktok of someone pointing out Jake’s fingers and it’s because of smoking so i thought why not have a cutesy girlfriend not ruin her freshly done nails.

also expect some Johnnie to come up i have three requests and they are actually amazing so tysm for them!!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You were sat on your pink gaming chair, swaying side to side whilst you were beginning your stream. The viewers rolled in quick, as well as the various donations and quick messages.

A message catches your attention, halting your swaying. “Did you get your nails done?” you mutter to yourself as you lean forwards. “Oh yeah! I did.” You lifted your hands up vertically showing off your fresh nails. “Jake took me for my birthday.” You had a cheesy smile on your face as you brought your hands down. You put them under your thighs as your shoulders hunched up at the mere feeling talking about Jake gave you.

“I was going to get them done anyway,” you paused and thought about your incredibly outgrown nails prior. “if you saw my nails before…Wait! did i show you guys?” you rushed to your phone and went through your gallery.

You found the photo Jake had sent you. It was a picture of you squishing his cheeks together with both hands, and you can see how outgrown your nails were. You flipped your phone to the camera, trying different angles so your viewers could see. “Stop focusing on me,” you muttered angrily to your camera. It focused and showed the chat a cute picture of you and your boyfriend, with your outgrown nails.

“Like we took this when we went target, with Johnnie.” You set your phone down and talked with your hands, even more than usual with your nails. “He literally called me over and went,” you took a breath and made your voice higher in irritation to mock Jake’s, “Babe, show me your nails!” you scrunched your face up, then resorted to your natural voice, “And so i did that, he took a picture.” you paused, showing confusion in your face, “I think he put it on instagram, on his story. I swear he did something like that and.. was there a poll on if he should pay for me to get my nails done?”

Looking at the chat you see the confirmation, or the people who were unaware on how bad your nails looked in shock. You rolled your eyes, “Anyways, i have such a cute boyfriend the came with me and payed.” You showed your nails off again.

This time another message caught your attention, “If you smoke why don’t you have ‘smoker fingers’?” You furrowed your brows at the question. “What the fuck is smoker fingers?” You looked down to your keyboard and began to type ‘what is smoker fingers?’.

“Okay Chat, smoker fingers are~” you dragged out the final word, “Yellowish discoloration on the ends of your fingers from holding a cigarette; wait!” you look at your fingers. “Oh i know why!” you were about to answer when you got a phone call from Jake.

“Hello, i’m streaming.” you held up your speaker to the microphone.

“You wanna know why your fingers aren’t yellow?” Jake yelled in irritation.

“Why?” you giggled with your hand over your mouth.

“Because you always make me hold your cigarettes! Look at my fingers!”

“I can’t, we’re not on facetime,” you were proved wrong as he came through your door behind you. You turned around to see him just stood there with a hand on the door handle and the other on his hip.

You look at the camera, then the stream to see what the viewers were seeing. Then you turned to see Jake still in the same position, causing you to lean into your hands that were propped up on your desk and failed to conceal your laughter. Jake then strutted up to the camera and held up his yellowing fingers with nails littered with chipped polish.

“Look! This is what she does, making me hold her cigarettes!” he then turned away from the camera to look at you cracking up and trying to hide in your hands. “What do you have to say about this?” he then held him fingers up to your face.

“Cigarettes are gross,” you spoke in a small voice with a smile on your face as you peered up at him.

“So you have it inside of your body?” Jake questioned and looked down at you.

“Well, i do that with you. Don’t I?”

He stood there in shock and strutted out towards the door, then he turned around with a cock of his hip.

“Never speak to me again!” he spoke in an accent, then went to another accent. (idk how to describe it it’s kinda like a pageant mum?) “Love you, sweetie.” he opened and closed his hand in a wave and left your room, leaving you laughing your ass to your audience.

781 words

[clairellie]

STREAMER ELLIE ! HEADCANONS

a/n: i loved writing this so i might actually make a fic on it?!? but not guaranteed.. WE LOVE STREAMER ELLIE!!!

warnings: ellie loves you dearly,

streamer!ellie who literally makes her streams fucking 4 hours long. she won't stop yapping, she's always asking questions and making polls and this and that.

“chat, should we play this game” “oh shit, ... made a new video, chat, should we watch it?”

the chat starts spaming yes’s and no’s. “i cant read allat. its going too fast— pause.” then she makes a poll

speaking of that... streamer!ellie will NOTTT stop saying pause after every little thing. if she doesn't say pause, shes look at the camera with that little smirk she has.

streamer!ellie who easily gets annoyed when they keep saying she sounds “hot” or whatever. she was too nervous to do a face reveal at first but then chat had to hype her tf up.

gf!streamer!ellie who had to hide your identity at first because she wanted to keep the fans from spamming you in the comments about her— but the hiding didn’t even work like chat found out 3 days later…

the reason why is because she kept forgetting to mute or get out of frame when she was speaking you.

but she also started playing random games that she normally wouldn’t play with this “other girl” she met… hm.

like dress to impress, royale high, bloxburg, and others. but okay pretty pink princess!

gf!streamer!ellie who kept on getting bugged about her promise ring.

she was showing her fit (because she does fit checks on stream) and chat would not shut up about the ring they kept spotting.

the next day she went on twitter and the first post she saw was:

“OMG ELLIE IS MARRIED?!?!!?”

she had to tell chat that, 1. its on her left hand, 2. you and her “weren’t in a relationship for that long yet” but its been fucking 1 year ellie. stop lying!!!!! and 3. she wasn’t “ready” even though she kept saying she was gonna marry you any day now.

streamer!ellie who gets BASHED in chat bro.

“what the helllll, oh my god.”

“uhm ellie, those dont match…”

“please tell me ur gf didnt pick that out..”

or when she keeps shooting at the wrong team… like babe those are ur teammates. (me too els..)

“ELLIE WTF ARE U DOING?!”

“can she read..?”

“she MIGHTT be a bit color blind.. 😬😬”

[loveshotzz]

you look pretty like this

bouncer!steve x fem!reader whatta man blurb

summary: Steve comes upstairs after a bad night at The Foxy Lounge.

warnings: 18+ dirty talk, oral male receiving, swallowing, boot riding 😈

word count: 1.4k

authors note: the blurb i wanted to win the poll so i wrote it too! this is part of my 90’s au Whatta Man but you don’t have to read to enjoy. Just know you live above the bar Steve bounces for.

Steve finally looked less pissed than when he stormed in earlier, his half lidded eyes staring down at you from between his legs. The pink glow from The Foxy Lounge sign illuminates his bronzed summer skin in a way that makes your thighs press. The haze from the smoke billows out from between his lips and softens the room while one big hand reaches down to cup your cheek. The pad of his thumb brushing away the tear that escapes from the corner of your eye as you open your throat up more for him.

“Mouth like a fuckin’ champion, honey. You like suckin’ me off like this huh?” He coos leaning back a little to get a better look at you.

You nod your head the best you can while you hum around the thickness of his cock that bullies your gag reflex. The vibrations make him groan loud enough that anyone outside the bar downstairs can hear.

He hollows out his cheeks taking another long drag, his hips bucking when your tongue traces the protruding vein that runs up the side. His leaky tip twitches in your mouth with his release just begging to come out.

“So fuckin’ good for me, makin’ my bad night better.” His words are sweet but the fist that tangles in your hair is a little mean.

His half smoked cigarette dangles from his bottom lip while his eyebrows pinch together to meet in the middle, the ash at the end dangerously close to falling on your bed.

You release him from your mouth with a loud pop, a string of spit keeping you connected when you look up at him with big eyes. He loved when you did that. Your hand wraps around the base, squeezing with just enough pressure to make a heavy breath exhale through his nose.

“You gonna ash that?” You ask a little bratty, swiping your thumb over his slit making him hiss.

His white undershirt sits pushed up just below his belly button, a trail of thick chestnut hair leading to an even fuller chest, the muscles in his abdomen flex when you do it again.

His lips twitch around the butt before he leans back with narrowed eyes. Long fingers reaching up to make the cigarette look small when it gets nestled between them. He flicks the excess off into the ashtray you got for the days it was always just “the one” swearing he’ll quit again tomorrow.

You keep working him at a slow pace, your wrist moving at just the right rhythm to make him grunt. His legs shift slightly so one big boot finds a new home between your knees. The wet patch in your underwear becoming uncomfortable when you think of sitting on it, your body desperate for any kind of friction.

Resting on his elbows, he takes another long drag, doing his best to play it cool while his dark stare fixates back on you.

“Happy?” The question comes out around a cloud of smoke and you have to suppress your moan when the toe of his boot accidentally ghosts against your clit.

“Mmmhmm” you manage to get out.

His brows raise as he clocks the way your lashes flutter and the power in your movements falter for a split second, something devilish taking over his handsome features when he figures it out.

“Getting tired baby?” He grins, biceps straining when he takes another drag. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

Your walls clamp around nothing but his words while your eyes lock with the smugness taunting you in his. Holding his gaze you lick a broad stripe up his length, relishing in the way it’s makes him twitch in your hands with a low ‘fuck’ escaping him. You tease him slowly with your tongue, exploring every ridge standing at attention for you before bringing the intensity of your mouth back down to wrap around him. It shuts him up for a second while you try to regain control.

“Does it look like I’m tired?” You ask pulling away just enough for your lips to ghost against the sensitive skin.

You weren’t looking for a real answer, and he knew that, but it didn’t stop him from trying. Whatever comeback he has dies before it has a chance to come out when you take as much of him as you can. Only stopping when he hits that part of your throat that’ll be bruised in the morning.

“Jesus-fuck, honey.”

The corners of your lips twist up around him, more than pleased when his fingers find their way back into your hair. You hum in approval, encouraging him to give in as both your hands find purchase against the dark denim that still covers half his thighs. The muscles dance under your touch, ruining the cotton between your legs even more. He was getting close.

Steve thinks he might be meeting god tonight when you somehow take him deeper, your nose to hitting the rough patch of hair that frames his base. Your tongue works overtime to cover every inch of him you can reach. Breathing through your nose, you start a slow bob up and down his length, only releasing him half way before sucking him right back into the tight heat of our mouth.

You can’t smell the cigarette anymore and it makes you wonder if it was enough for him to put it out.

The saltiness of his precum hits your tongue, and you start to feel like you’ve won, especially when you reach down to massage his balls. One large hand hitting the mattress in response, your name coming out in a mixture of bliss and agony with a buck of his hips.

“Y-you’re so good to me, I don’t wanna be the only one that gets to cum baby.” He sounds the sweetest he’s been all night, and you almost fall for it until the toe of his boot returns with pointed pressure against your bundle of nerves.

You moan loudly, almost letting him slip from between your lips when he keeps it there. He holds it, daring to apply even more pressure till your resistance gives and your hips start rolling against him. The drag against your clit is electric, and the dirtiness of it all has you the wettest you’ve ever been. Saliva drips down his cock as everything starts getting messier. Both of you getting closer.

Tears prick at the corners of your closed eyes, and he can feel the way your body shudders at the new sensation. You whimper around him when he starts kicking his boot up to meet each of your short thrusts. His own hips create a pace that has his eyes threatening to roll back, but he’s trying to take a mental picture of how you look right now.

“Needy girl just wanted my boot huh?” The smugness from before returns when he notices how you stop fighting for control. All your shame is gone while your body chases your impending orgasm. Too wrapped up in how good it feels to fight anymore, you whimper when the rubber of his sole rubs your clit just right.

“You gonna swallow what I give you while you make a mess all over my boot?” His words only spur you on more, your grinding picking up more speed. “You gonna be good?”

You nod hollowing your cheeks, finding the focus to open up your throat even more to take him to the hilt while the beginnings of your release start to wash over you in waves. You palm at his sensitive balls begging him for his.

“God, angel. I’m gonna fuckin cum watching you like this. Fuck- such a fuckin’ dirty girl. Cover my boot, I wanna walk back down stairs with it shinin’.”

He’s a babbling mess, the blunt ends of his nails scratching into your scalp when you feel him twitch against your tongue. Your body shakes as the coil inside you snaps at the same time he starts spilling white hot against the back of your throat. You try to swallow as much of it as you can while it drowns out your moans, but it’s too much and it comes sputtering out the sides of your mouth.

It dribbles down your chin when you finally release him, your eyes daring to meet his. The mossy green of them is back, his expression no longer hard but soft and exhausted. A lazy satisfied grin spreads across his face, as he runs a hand through his hair putting the fly away back into place.

The pad of his thumb swipes at what you missed before he brings it up to your lips.

“Thank you baby.” His pearly whites show in a devastating smile when you do as he asks with tear stained cheeks, your wollen lips wrapping around him to suck him clean.

You looked so pretty like this.

[devildom-moss]

December poll story

NSFW - Solomon x Barbatos x MC

(Barbatos x Solomon x gn!MC)

(NSFW) (dom-leaning-switch!top!Barbatos / sub!bottom!Solomon / dom!top!MC) (MC with a dick or strap on; oral/blowjob - Sol for Barbs; jealous sex; pre-cum tasting; anal fingering - Sol receiving; slightly bratty Solomon; mostly gentle dom MC; sadistic Barbatos; double anal - Sol receiving; Solomon's hands restrained by Barbatos; slight overstim; anal creampie; standing/against the wall sex; no explicit mention of MC orgasm sorry; Solomon is so whiny and needy and desperate for reader)

Word Count: +2,800

You were delighted that Barbatos not only had the night off but was willing to come over to Cocytus Hall and help you cook dinner. Cooking at the castle had its positives, like high-end tools and an enormous pantry, but seeing Barbatos in the relatively humble kitchen at Cocytus Hall felt more intimate. It wasn’t as if you could peacefully prepare a meal with Solomon here. Sometimes, you just wanted someone to help you in your kitchen without being worried that something was going to explode or that your entire meal would be ruined.

“I’m back,” Solomon yelled from down the hall. “It smells amazing in here. What are you –”

Solomon stopped dead in the doorframe, jaw clenched tight. The only movement on his end was the darting of his eyes between you and Barbatos. His stunned silence caused you to turn around and see what was wrong. Barbatos followed your gaze, looking over his shoulder at the recently returned sorcerer.

“Solomon,” Barbatos greeted him coldly – losing every ounce of emotion he had given you mere minutes ago.

“Barbatos, what are you doing with my – my . . . apprentice?” Solomon questioned him cautiously, almost allowing a more affectionate term to slip from his lips.

“He’s helping me make dinner,” you informed him. “Is that why you malfunctioned?”

“I didn’t malfunction. I just wasn’t expecting to see anyone else in our kitchen.”

“Is that so?” Barbatos hummed, turning his head so he could get back to mincing the garlic.

Solomon narrowed his eyes in annoyance briefly and rolled up his sleeves. As he walked towards the kitchen sink, he insisted, “Well, let me assist you, too. I’m sure I can help.”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Barbatos replied.

“We’ve got everything under control, Solomon, really. You can relax,” you reassured him, hoping the sweetness you mustered up in your tone would be enough to ward him off. Solomon’s shoulders dropped, and he frowned but made no move to leave. You turned back around to continue chopping the vegetables. Maybe you could convince Solomon to take a nice long bath while you and Barbatos finished dinner.

Just as you were about to gently urge Solomon to get out of the kitchen, you felt Barbatos come up behind you. He put one arm up – coincidentally between you and Solomon ��� and reached for the cupboard above your head. His body was pressed firmly against your back and his breath was hot on your skin. “Ah. My apologies, MC. Your hands were busy, and I didn’t want to disturb you, but I thought I saw the spices that I brought over for you the other day in here. I must have been mistaken.”

“Pantry. Front of the shelf – just below eye level,” you informed him. Barbatos chuckled and went to check the pantry. You didn’t particularly want him to move, but if Solomon was forced to witness that for a second longer, you were certain he would come for Barbatos’s throat. You could feel Solomon’s anger from across the room.

“Let me help, instead.” Solomon insisted, catching Barbatos by the shoulder as he made his way to the stove. “You should go home, Barbatos.”

“Don’t be rude. Barbatos came all the way out here, and he’s helping prepare dinner for you, too.”

“It’s fine.” Barbatos offered you a polite smile before turning to face Solomon. “After all, Solomon doesn’t mean to be rude. He’s simply being a needy little brat, desperate for your attention.”

Solomon gasped quietly. His face flushed a light pink – tinted with shame and anger. He hated being so jealous and desperate for you, and he hated that Barbatos was the one to point that out even more. You continued dicing vegetables, hiding your smirk from Solomon’s eyes.

“I believe a punishment might be in order. What do you think, MC? Do I have your permission to handle him?” Barbatos asked you, still staring down Solomon.

“What about my –” Solomon started to protest, but his complaint was silenced when Barbatos kissed him roughly, pushing him back towards the doorframe.

You stopped to look over your shoulder, ensuring that what you thought had just happened was, indeed, the case. It was certainly something to behold: Barbatos pressing Solomon’s back against the doorframe, tongue in his mouth, pulling out the softest moans from the sorcerer. You weren’t sure if you should keep watching or let the two have their privacy – as much privacy as you could offer them while still preparing the stew. The latter seemed to be the best option. After all, the sounds of Solomon whimpering were just arousing enough to turn you on while not distracting you too much.

By the time Barbatos finally broke the kiss, Solomon was in a daze with his cheeks tinted red. You could hear him panting slightly as you tossed the potatoes into the stock. Barbatos took a step back and held Solomon’s chin with one gloved hand.

“I take it that was sufficient enough to earn your permission as well, right Solomon? Now, get on your knees and suck my dick. I spent all this time keeping your apprentice company, helping cook for you. You really should be more grateful.” Solomon’s eyes widened, and he looked in your direction – searching for guidance. You weren’t even watching him. Barbatos turned Solomon’s face back to look at him. “Come on, little sorcerer. If you want MC to watch, put on a show for them. Show them you’ve had a change in attitude – that your rude little mouth can repent.”

You caught Solomon dropping to his knees out of the corner of your eye. He stared up at Barbatos with the small hint of defiance that had somehow escaped the smothering effect of that kiss. “. . . Fine.”

If only you and Barbatos had made more progress before Solomon returned home. The stew would already be simmering, and you could have focused more of your attention on the source of the noises behind you.

Everything from the sound of Barbatos undoing his pants to Solomon’s noisy licking and sucking to the first gentle moan that left Barbatos’s lips tempted you to turn around and watch. You heard Solomon whimper as he struggled to take Barbatos – the way he began to moan on Barbatos’s cock, slowly starting to enjoy himself. Even as Barbatos moaned again, rolling his head back against the door frame and rocking his hips forward, eager to get deeper down Solomon’s throat, you focused on the task at hand. Just a few more steps, you kept telling yourself until, at last, everything was prepared, and you could leave the stew to simmer on low.

You turned away from the stove and admired the sight of Solomon licking the tip of Barbatos’s cock before taking him in his mouth, bobbing his head eagerly. Did he know you were watching or was he just that into it? Either way, as much as you wanted to keep watching, you also wanted to reward Solomon for being such a good boy while you finished cooking.

“I’ll be right back,” you announced – although you were mostly speaking to Barbatos. He grabbed the back of Solomon’s head and pulled him close until he was choking on his cock, giving you a few more inches to squeeze behind Solomon. As you passed behind him, you ran your fingers along his shoulders, earning a pleased whimper.

You retrieved a bottle of lube from your bedroom (and a strap-on, if necessary) before returning to the hallway. Barbatos had been polite enough to let Solomon resume his blowjob as opposed to being left to choke. He spotted you through half-lidded eyes as you walked down the hall and grinned – almost as if to say, “he’s good at this, but I’d rather have you.”

Barbatos combed his gloved hand through Solomon’s hair before quickly pulling him back. The movement was so sudden that Solomon still had his tongue sticking out as he stared up at Barbatos. “There, there. That’s enough. Your sweet apprentice brought you a gift.”

Solomon turned to see you standing in the hallway, just outside the kitchen doorway, holding a bottle of lube. You motioned for him to come to you, and he was quick to get to his feet and bury his blushing face in the crook of your neck. His embrace nearly pushed your back against the wall. Barbatos followed and stood behind Solomon. He chuckled and slowly pulled his gloves off, tucking them in his coat pocket, before taking the lube from your hand.

Barbatos tugged the back of Solomon’s pants and underwear down, coated his fingers in a generous amount of lube, and slipped a finger into Solomon. A soft yelp, muffled against your skin, left Solomon’s lips. Still clinging to you, Solomon pulled back just enough so he could kiss you. The taste of Barbatos’s precum was still on his tongue, but if he knew you could taste it, he would have refrained from kissing you with the urgent desperation he had now. Between Barbatos’s skilled fingers slowly stretching him out and your lips – and attention – finally on him, Solomon was reduced to moans and whimpers all over again.

A spark of sadism ignited in Barbatos. He tugged at Solomon’s hair with his free hand, forcing him away from you, and captured your lips instead – all while continuing to finger Solomon. Irritated by the interruption, Solomon reached behind to stroke Barbatos’s cock, knowing the demon was still hard. Barbatos moaned, but that moan quickly slipped into a growl as he pulled away from your lips.

“Who said you could touch me again?” He growled into Solomon’s ear, plunging his finger deeper into Solomon’s ass.

Solomon arched against your body with a smug grin, biting his lower lip to hold in his moan – anything to annoy Barbatos further. “It worked. You stopped kissing my apprentice.”

His attempt to annoy Barbatos was a success. Barbatos slipped a third finger into Solomon in retaliation, quickly and without warning, making Solomon whine and cling to your shoulders. His face was flushed bright pink up to his ears with his mouth agape. He struggled to get the words out. “I-it hurts, MC.”

Tears prickled the corners of his eyes but failed to fall. You kissed down his cheek, shushing him affectionately. “You’re okay, baby. I’m right here, let me help you.”

As you kissed his neck, you slid your hand down his chest until you reached the hem of his pants. You undid his pants, finally allowing them to slip completely down his thighs, and tugged the front of his underwear down until his hard cock was free. You stroked him slowly. Solomon buried himself against your neck, muffling his needy whines. While he wasn’t paying attention, Barbatos stole a quick kiss from you over Solomon’s shoulder. You focused your attention on thumbing Solomon’s tip as Barbatos curled his fingers against Solomon’s prostate. Drowning in pleasure and too blissed-out to speak, the only warning Solomon gave you was nuzzling into your neck and tightening his grip around you before he came all over your hand with a loud moan. Solomon’s knees buckled, but neither you nor Barbatos were done with him yet.

“Can you keep going, baby?” you asked him. Solomon’s only response was to kiss you while fumbling to undo your pants, revealing your dick/strap on. Meanwhile, Barbatos tugged Solomon’s pants and underwear down all the way, making it easy for the sorcerer to step out of them and kick them off to the side – all while he was still exploring your mouth with his tongue. Barbatos pumped more lube into his palm before chucking the bottle on top of Solomon’s pants. He reached around Solomon, pressing his still-hard cock against Solomon’s ass, and applied the lube to your cock/strap on, stroking you a few times until you were completely coated.

Finally, you were ready to fuck him. You wrapped Solomon’s legs around your waist while Barbatos pinned Solomon’s wrists against the wall just above your head with one hand. Your eyes met Solomon’s, silently requesting permission.

“I want it. Fuck me,” Solomon whispered through his panting. He opened his mouth slightly and leaned in to kiss you again.

With your hands preoccupied, digging into Solomon’s thighs to hold him up, Barbatos used his free hand to help ease you into Solomon’s ass. Moan after moan escaped Solomon and flowed into your parted lips as you slowly bucked up into him. Something about Solomon’s desperate, hungry kisses, and the image of his flushed cheeks and damp eyes as he told you he was in pain earlier made you want to be gentle with him.

Barbatos, on the other hand, was not so sweet. Rubbing his hard cock against Solomon’s ass while the little brat writhed on your dick with his hands pinned was not nearly enough. Barbatos bit Solomon’s neck, earning a whimper, before blowing on the bite mark and whispering in Solomon’s ear, “Be a good boy and relax for me.”

In a daze of pleasure, Solomon could barely make out the words – let alone understand them – before Barbatos was slowly pushing his cock into him. Solomon immediately broke the kiss, lolling his head back with a gasp. He struggled to catch his breath as the feeling of being so full pushed him closer to the edge. Solomon was already tight, but with Barbatos inside, pulsing against you, your thrusts slowed as you tried to get the poor sorcerer used to it. Solomon wanted to wrap his arms around you, but Barbatos still had his wrists pinned. He whined and struggled, rubbing his throbbing cock against your stomach. You could feel him twitching. That pleasured look on his face, a deep blush, and the slightest hint of drool dripping from the corner of his lip told you that you could have been a bit rougher with him from the start. He might have enjoyed any pain you caused him.

“You can cum, it’s okay,” you reassured Solomon, thrusting into him with rapid, shallow movements.

“I’m close, too, MC,” Barbatos growled. “Can I cum inside him?”

In any other situation, Solomon would have been annoyed that Barbatos was treating him like he was your toy, but in that moment, he wanted it. Solomon whined, “hurry. Cum in me.”

“You heard him,” you chuckled, leaning in to suck on Solomon’s neck. Before you could leave a proper hickey, you felt Barbatos twitching inside of Solomon’s ass, and with a soft grunt followed by a content sigh, he pumped Solomon full of cum. Perhaps some of Barbatos’s sadism had rubbed off on you because you continued to thrust into Solomon – much easier than before after the additional lubricant. Moans and whimpers filled the hall as you overstimulated Barbatos, fucking the cum deeper into Solomon’s ass, and gave your baby boy every ounce of pleasure he needed to cum all over your shirt.

Slowly, your thrusts came to a stop. Solomon was still whining, and his eyes were damp. As weak as he was, he struggled against Barbatos’s grip again, desperately craving touching you.

“Patience, brat,” Barbatos hissed. Solomon’s struggling only overstimulated him further. Barbatos groaned as he carefully pulled out of Solomon, scraping a few drops of cum out as he did. However, Barbatos kept his grip tight on Solomon’s wrists and held your gaze. “Your turn, MC – or do you plan to stay inside him all throughout dinner?”

Solomon yelped, and you laughed, knowing you couldn’t possibly tease him that much. You eased out of him halfway before quickly thrusting back into him, earning another pathetic yelp. With wide, damp eyes and a pout on his lips, Solomon stared at you, begging you to be gentler with him. Okay, that’s enough teasing. You pulled out completely, and lowered Solomon’s legs until he was standing on his own feet again. He looked adorable: flushed, panting, in a blissful afterglow, with cum leaking down his thighs.

Satisfied, Barbatos released Solomon’s hands. Surprisingly, Solomon’s first move was to grab your hands and hold them, playing with your fingers nervously. He hadn’t realized until now what a mess he had made all over you. In a weak, timid voice, he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You smiled at him and ran your thumbs over his hands. “You were so sexy.”

Solomon looked up at you with a shy grin. Slightly annoyed by the softness you seemed to share with Solomon, Barbatos sighed, and despite himself, he told you, “Give me a minute to get cleaned up in the bathroom. Then, I’ll finish getting dinner ready while you and Solomon take a shower together.”

“Thank you.” You smiled and leaned over to kiss Barbatos on the lips – gentle and sweet.

Barbatos turned to leave, but Solomon let go of your hands to grab him and pull him closer. Solomon kissed Barbatos, too – albeit a shorter, self-conscious kiss. When he pulled away, Barbatos was wide-eyed and surprised while Solomon was blushing harder. “Thank you for everything. You can stay the night after dinner – if you want to.”

Barbatos chuckled, a smile reaching his eyes. “Oh? Aren’t you all docile and welcoming now.”

“I still have a pact with you, you know?” Solomon glared.

“I’m well aware.”

A/N: I hope this one came out okay. I kinda rushed it a bit because I'll be away from my computer from the rest of the month and I didn't want it to go up late. At this point, I feel like it's well established how much I adore whiny, desperate Solomon. I want to ruin him. I hope that desire was enough to make a good fic. I'm scheduling this to post on the 31st, so don't forget, I'll post a new poll for January's story at midnight on the New Year PST. It'll be a little different this time, and I hope you'll all like it.

[hello-gloomy]

'What was your nen again?'

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Phantom troupe x Gen!reader

Description: The troupe finally had some free time so you decided to meet up with them again, you happen to bring up something none of them mentioned to you which brings up a question.

Warnings: Crack taken seriously. I don't think there's any use of Y/N aside from that pretty tame some of them might be OOC it's my first time writing for so many characters.

A/N: Just something short (Maybe) to tide us all over till the first two polls are done or till I finish my other WIPs. (I should be doing work rn but I'm not.) :^

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"You need to work on your sleeping habits."

"...What..?"

"You didn't go to sleep till 2 yesterday." Shalnark looked mildly unnerved at your claims, which made you feel slightly bad for the unconscious snooping you do through everyone's memories. But you couldn't help but bring it up, how is he supposed to commit crimes on three hours of sleep all the time. Bound to make mistakes like that.

"I never told you that..." This gains the attention of Pakunoda who happens to be close by she gets up from where she was sitting in the large dining hall you and the group were staying at for their temporary break.

"Told them what?"

"What time he went to sleep." Her brows furrowed for a second while she glanced at a shocked Shalnark.

"Lucky guess?" She pondered out loud, He grimaced at that while you giggled at his facial expression.

"I peeked at his memories."

"Brother eugh." You full-on belly laughed at that attracting some more of the others to get closer.

"What's going on now?"

"Shal didn't go to sleep till two."

"Explains eyebag."

"I DO NOT HAVE EYEBAGS."

Feitan moved closer to your left side while Shalnark opened up the camera on his phone to look at his eyes to prove his point.

"How see memory?"

"With my Nen." Everyone stopped and looked at you.

"You have Nen?"

"Mmm...Yeah..?"

"So your Nen is similar to mine then?"

"Kind of, just without the gun. I could project other people's memories too."

"Show Shalnark memory."

"Do not."

With that, you summon your nen and a small eyeglass appears you scope out an open wall and find one large enough by Uvo and Nobunaga. You motion for the others to follow behind you while Shalnark whines for you not to embarrass him. Walking past the other pair they take notice and ask Paku what's happening she gives a brief explanation. You engage Gyo and through your eye, you show the memory of Shalnark on his computer and after a bit of fast forwarding through the memory, you show him passed out at the desk. The projection comes to an end and you turn around to find Machi and Korotopi have joined you as well. Pakunoda turns to Shalnark to scold him first.

"they're right you do need to work on your sleeping habits." She held her hand on the side of her face. Shalnark turned a bit pink at her remark while Uvo and Nobunaga started laughing at him.

"I wouldn't be laughing if I were the two of you considering how reckless you were being last week." They stopped immediately, and Machi's eyes were practically excited, begging you to show their embarrassing moments. You let out a quiet huff and turned around to project another moment. Showing the two men almost getting blown up on the task Chrollo had previously sent them on.

"Nice job."

"Shut up Machi!"

"Why don't you show one of her embarrassing moments!!"

"And get strung up hard pass. I like living unlike you two obviously." That had everyone laughing again. Chrollo had magically materialized and joined the theatrics of the group you had all made now.

"How far back can you go with individual memories?"

"From the instant their brain forms." "But I usually don't snoop back that far without explicit permission."

"If you'd prefer I can show memories from when you were younger?" You hold eye contact with Chrollo while the rest watch on. You get a bit nervous and start to doubt the previous forwardness you had getting ready to retract your question, Chrollo interrupts yours and everyone's thoughts.

"Just don't go back too far."

Carefully you picked a memory that you found lovely, one between The boss and Pakunoda. Everyone hushed when the light from your eye displayed upon the wall, you all heard the tune before you saw anyone, piles upon piles of trash a few giggles in between notes of the crackling song and soon enough two small figures came into view a young Chrollo and Paku holding hands arms enveloped around the waist of the other. They were beaming at one another you let it play a bit longer before it cut out. Turning around everyone was looking between Paku and Dancho. Pakunoda wiped her eyes before she looked over to a smiling Chrollo.

"That was a good choice."

[eldritch-spouse]

[Part 5 of Gifted. Fem reader.]

Previous poll winner: Grimbly (56.7%)

TW: Creepy one-sided mommy kink, later becomes mutual.

New choice! [VOTE]

When your leg lightly pokes the smaller monster, his previously cute expression morphs into a smarmy, gross smirk.

" Hah. Looks like you might wanna reconsider. " His hands are on his waist as he regards the wraith.

" Fool. They're not in the right mind to be making decisions. " The other counters.

" Mm. Cope harder. "

No matter how hard you try to keep your eyelids open, they flutter repeatedly, eventually shutting for good. Your consciousness fades on Morell's chopping table.

...

There's a chirp. Then another. You hear something rushing nearby. A liquid. The noise, paired with a slight chilly sensation, becomes uncomfortable, forcing you to gradually wake up.

Eyes eventually parting, the shapes of the revolving world finally begin to make sense, and you find yourself in a garden. Not just any garden, the same one where all this madness started. Alertness seeping back into your form, wary hues scatter until they find a fountain.. If you can call it that. Yes, it's not exactly standard. The thing takes on a strange, bent shape which seems to loop in itself like an optical illusion designed to confound the mind. Water rushes down its sides, then up, then diagonally- Like it's crawling around it, alive. You'd imagine this is what a being who has never seen a fountain in their life would make, putting aside the way this thing very clearly defies physics.

You've been around here for a while however, and as such, you know better than to question the logistics of this location. The how and why of this reality is irrelevant. Nevertheless, the sound of water cascading and dripping aimlessly is the least bit soothing to your overworked, stressed brain, so, with a quiet sigh, you glance at the flowers who have been chirping all this time- Swaying and twirling at each other as if to communicate. To think those things have teeth. That they bit you. Cursed garden indeed...

" It's beautiful in its own way, right? "

Your heart, that poor, miserable organ which has been tested thoroughly throughout this entire day, threatens to leap out your ribcage for what feels like the hundredth time.

" Geez silly, it's just me. "

Bulging eyeballs zero in on the monster sitting next to you. Grimbly... Ah yes! The one you picked, good. He's far too close, thigh brushing yours actually. How had you not noticed him before? Shortly after this initial observation, you realize you're on a bench, and a quick self-check reveals that you're wearing an entirely different get-up. In fact, you're clad in what looks to be a pastel pink Summer dress with subtle floral patterns. Huh. Well, you suppose it's better than torn, bloodied scraps?

The bat monster notes your disoriented staring and pipes up. " Ah, I hope you don't mind. It's just, you looked so bad in that trash, I found something much better for you. " Bright magenta hues almost seem to sparkle at you. " You love it, don't you? "

Yeah, sure. You love being minimally covered. Now that you think about it, he must have undressed and garbed you himself while you were out cold. Slimy fucker. Regardless, a free dress is a free dress, so you nod cautiously.

" Yay. I'm really glad, mommy! "

Fucking what now?

You give the monster a subtle side-glance. This is a grown adult. He may be small in stature but this is definitely an adult. There is no way in Heaven or Hell he's actually mistaking you for his mother, this is very clearly a "thing". A thing he's involved you in without asking. God damn it, and here you thought this one could be slightly more normal. Serves you right.

" Uhum. " Because what else are you supposed to say? That he's a creepy loser? So are the others. You can only hope that he's a less powerful creepy loser. Hell, if all he wants to do is pretend you're his "mommy" and have you pet his head, then you'll consider yourself very lucky.

Wary eyes glance around again. It's noon-ish? Indeed, between being inside, with all that ruckus and calamity, you much prefer this twisted garden. You can still hear people in the vicinity, but nowhere near the amount indoors. All the chattering, cackling and yelling was getting in your brain far before you were even handed to Morell like a tasty morsel. This... This is much better, it has saved you from a pounding headache, and your body is only somewhat sore. You must not have slept on this bench.

Hold on.

You're in the garden. And what a large garden it is- But that's hardly the point! What matters is that, if you can get this one off your hairs, you could maybe try to find a way out of here. After all, if you're fast enough, clever and quiet like a mouse, would it truly be impossible to just leave? There has to be an exit. Somewhere. For all intents and purposes, this is the closest you've been to freedom ever since being dumped here by the Icon of carnality. Yes... Good.

A small weight on top of your right hand jolts you. You didn't even realize you had them fisted around the hems of your dress until he gently grasped one. Forcing a deep breath out of your lungs, you meet his big, rounded eyes.

" I know your day has been tough so far. How are you feeling now? "

That calm breath was fruitless, for those words alone instill insurmountable tension within you. How dare he? How are you feeling?! Fucking hopeless, how about that! Tarnished. Frightened. Panicked. You want out. You just want out. You want to go home, you want to see your family and you want to pretend that none of this happened. That you weren't picked to be some appetizer, some distraction brought on by a demonlord.

Tears slide down your cheeks faster than you realize you're crying.

" Oh. Oh no, please don't cry mommy, I didn't mean to- I promise! "

Grimbly scoots even closer, smaller, four-fingered hands reaching for your cheeks and softly wiping away the waterworks. Although you freeze, expecting some sort of catch behind the act, he only spares you a soft smile. Before sitting sideways on your lap that is. Ugh.

" It's okay, you don't need to cry anymore. You have me now, after all. " The bat half-jokes, earning only a sniffle in return as you try to gather your bearings.

Shaky hands hover, having nowhere to poise, until the waiter rolls his bright eyes and grabs them, manually wrapping them around himself in a clumsy embrace. He's smooth, surprisingly soft. " We can talk about anything you want, okay? "

What is there to talk about, your cynical side snarks. Yet, if he's responsive to conversation, for whatever reason, then maybe you can make the most out of it.

" How many floors are there in this building? "

" It depends. " Grimbly shrugs. " Today there's extra ones, because we're kinda flooded with clients. I just hope they don't rush to the aquarium, serving there is no fun, everything's wet and slippery and I don't know how to swim. "

" Do you know how to swim, mommy? "

Your eyelid twitches. " ... Yes. "

The monster gasps. " Oh! Can you teach me someday? "

You don't even know if you'll make it past today. " Uh, sure. "

God, this is awkward.

The waiter purrs loudly, exactly like an overgrown kitten, as he dips his face into your chest, struggling with his own horns. " Thank you! " He's nuzzling, you can feel the pointed tips of those fangs dragging on your skin as he tries to shove his face on your tits. You've no doubt he picked a dress with significant cleavage for this very reason. You don't think too much of your chest, but he seems fixated on it nonetheless.

Silent, passive seconds pass. You're not too sure what you signed up for before passing out, though, thinking back on it, maybe you made the right choice? The mysterious figure in the hood was so ominous, at least this one seems way less intense. Clingy definitely, but way less intimidating.

" You're so nice... " The monster attempting to become one with your tits purrs in a saccharine tone.

" Am I? " A sort of corrosive dryness seeps from you. Your patience for games is dwindling.

" Yeah. You're not like the other ones. " Grimbly hugs you tight, sighing in a way that sounds much too infatuated while he adjusts his position on your lap, tail swatting behind his lithe figure. " You're not screaming, trying to run, or calling me names- I knew I was right when I said you were special. "

Maybe you're just too tired to do those things. Or, better yet, you know it would worsen your chances of survival. The urge to yell and flail is right around the corner, but so it the other voice asking you if you'd like to live to see another day.

" You're perfect. " He swoons, shifting his legs on your lap. " You love me already, don't you? "

Your chin is grasped, forcing you to face the hysterical-looking monster on top of you. Ah. So you were wrong. He's not any safer than the other ones, in fact, he's apparently a lot less stable. Something in the blade-thin pupils of those sweet round eyes tells you it's a horrible idea to antagonize him.

" O- Of course. " You stammer, trying to smile in a comforting way but very aware that your discomfort is shining through crystal clear. Grimbly tilts his head expectantly, and your eyelid twitches a little. " ... Sweetie. " For good measure, you give him a couple of pats on the head.

It seems you've gouged what he wanted correctly, because the waiter relaxes, leaning into the touch. " I knew it. " He lilts. It almost feels threatening.

You try to focus on the relatively calm surroundings, hearing some flapping and thumping in the distance. Not for long however, because a claw hooks onto the front of your dress and slips your tits out. You can only tense, observing the small bat hybrid excite himself with the sight of them. It certainly doesn't help that the slight breeze has your nipples rock hard like pointers. Small hands practically dart to hold your now exposed breasts, the touch greedy and self-serving more than anything. He's clearly not intending to massage you, more so rolling them for his own lurid entertainment.

A not half bad suggestion crosses your mind. What if... What if you used his own kink against him for a second? Would that work? Worth a try.

" Grimbly! " You call sternly, making the hypnotized monster blush and jump slightly. " What do you think you're doing?! Is this any way to behave? " A small part of you writhes, cringing.

" Buh- "

" But nothing. " You insist.

The smaller monster's face goes from velvet to crimson, although whether that's good or bad is up in the air. He covers his groin, expression deflating. For a moment, you almost believe he's going to come to his senses and let it die, your expectations are shifted upside down when he gives you a teary-eyed look.

" But I was so good! " His fists ball. " I didn't touch you while I was dressing you up even if I wanted to so bad! " A shiver crawls up your spine. " I'm being good for you! Aren't I? "

No. But the way the pitch in his voice rises makes you second-guess the effectiveness of pursuing this. " Mommy, why are you being so mean to me?! "

God, he's creepy.

Fine then, he wants you to play nice? Might as well get this over with.

Rolling your eyes, you shove his face between your tits, snickering at the surprised yelp he lets out, which very quickly morphs into a content murr. Those threatening pinprick points you can only guess function as fangs drag across the sensitive tissue of your breasts, and you vaguely wonder if he's going to bite at any point. Puncture into your chest. The mental image makes you shudder. His arms dart to squeeze the soft skin around himself more, and you take advantage of it by sliding a hand right down his body, to the sopping wet slit he tried to hide before.

Grimbly whimpers.

You don't know what to make of this guy.

He's definitely desperate, and even if he's got admittedly adorable looks, his attitude is invasive and abrasive. You can see through his little disguise, or maybe he's just become sloppy in his excitement, but this little fucker is toxic enough to smell. You'll have to be careful with him. For now though, you can afford being a little rougher. You deserve it even, after all that's happened to you. It's a miracle your poor body isn't sore. It should be.

With little to no hesitation, you slip two fingers into that eager hole, getting rewarded with moans that the monster tries to muffle against your skin, now merely holding onto you. The way you pump them is merciless, fingerfucking that pouch and ignoring the swollen cock begging to be freed. The bat's legs twitch, parting, his claws digging into your sides.

" Ghh- " He tries to form a sad excuse of a word, but you don't relent, getting some kicks out of torturing him this way. The sound of his slit greedily swallowing your fingers is lewd and loud.

" Mm, what was that? " You cruelly egg.

" Ngh- Mommy- "

" Yeah? " Grimbly makes another senseless noise and tries to buck into your motions. Your placid hand rises to grab him by the hip, and although you didn't expect it, you're able to keep him perfectly still. Or maybe he's letting you? You sense you have more strength over him.

" Words. " You demand.

" P- Please- Please let it out! It hurts- I need it! "

Your digits all but rip out of his hole, leaving it flexing solemnly before a short chubby cock pokes out. A smooth and slick member bobs in the air, featuring a tapered tip. He's the smallest you've seen today, but that's actually quite comforting. Just enough to make you feel good, and not have to worry about how your body is even accommodating it. Again, you're sure Vesper tampered with you in unwanted ways.

Not giving the needy waiter a moment of respite, you fist your hand around his pretty dick, pumping him fast and hard, occasionally stopping to toy with the odd tip and figuring out what feels best there. The monster atop you twitches and gasp, legs jerking while his body juggles excess sensation. But by God, if the look on his face isn't one of pure ecstasy, open-mouthed and eyes rolled, blinking with each new flare of heat.

It feels good to finally exert some sort of power over someone here. You're not foolish enough to believe you're safe, much less that you can intimidate this odd monster, but you can trick your desperate sense of control, pet it like one would a frightened animal, whisper that everything is fine- Because here you are, making the waiter choke on his own pleasured noises.

Some mean, wounded part of you wants to make Grimbly come from a harsh, merciless handjob. You want him to quiver and soak himself hopelessly, experience just a taste of the powerlessness you've been restricted to since the beginning of this cursed game, this obscene adventure born out of the depths of the Icon of Lust's debased psyche. You want to make sure he reaches that precious peak of pleasure, and then rip all touch away, see him buck like a stupid animal after your hand, cry and strangle out noises of despairing frustration as his orgasm is ruined.

For a brief instant, you stun yourself with the peculiar nature of your desires. You never once experienced a need to be so domineering and cruel... This place is sinking its filthy claws in your brain and it hasn't even been a full day yet. It's a horrifying possibility. Besides, you don't think it'd be a particularly bright idea to feed those urges.

" O-Ohn- N- Not yet! "

The waiter's ambiguous whining forces you to attention. He's thrashing a bit more, no longer the simple squirming of an overstimulated body but genuine attempts to halt things. You stop the moment he taps at your hand insistently.

Grimbly sighs, offering you a glazed smile. " I don't want to come yet, mommy. Not without you... "

Although the look he puts on is cute, you're too riled up to give him any leash, sliding him off your legs and placing him down with jarring ease. He weighs so little, it's bizarre, he definitely doesn't feel that light, and your upper body strength isn't anything to gawk at either. Huh. While he observes you vapidly, the dress is hiked up as you shift to straddle the small monster instead.

He's positively dwarfed by you, which is equal parts satisfying and arousing. The crimson burn on his cheeks agrees completely.

Although you hover tantalizingly over Grimbly's twitching cock, you don't touch or line the monster up with you, enjoying the frustrated brow crease wrinkling his otherwise smooth features. When the bat cares to look up from between plush legs, he finds you boring holes into him.

" A- Ah! " He flusters, breaking eye contact.

" What do you want? "

" Mmm... I want- " Magenta orbs flicker between the sight of your bare pussy to your eyes, begging wordlessly.

" You want? " Grabbing his member, you don't offer the bat any stimulation, even as his legs tremble and he bites his lips at the feeling of your pussy lips juuust grazing his tip.

" Please mommy! " He whines loud and high.

You actually can't contain the laugh that rips out your throat. " Please what? "

Grimbly cracks, voice acquiring a growled edge that wasn't there before. " I want your pussy! I want mommy's sweet pussy I Hhng- "

Gross. You sink onto him like an anchor.

A risky move, but fortunately, he's small enough that it went smoothly. While you blink and gasp in strong shocks of pleasure, Grimbly cries out like a needy whore, and you bet at least some people inside that blasted building heard it. Let them hear, fuck it.

He's still panting by the time dark hands hold onto your hips, throbbing inside you. Pent up little man, you doubt he'll last much longer. Drunk on the control, you can't take much more stillness, starting to ride the monster as hard as you know he wants it.

Grimbly's eyes widen and his mouth parts soundlessly, you grab the back of the bench to support yourself and grin as you fuck down onto his pretty cock, shivering at every choked out whimper he offers. What a pretty slut, maybe that's what the other ones saw when they took you. And you can't blame them for being weak to it.

The monster clips out moans with each bounce, your legs more powerful than his, jostling his lithe figure somewhat the harder you crash onto him. It's addicting, something you never thought you'd need so bad. Chasing your own pleasure becomes a secondary goal, overshadowed entirely by wanting to ruin the winged monster beneath you.

Grimbly seems entirely hypnotized by the sway of your tits, it would almost be hilarious if it didn't help make you feel so gorgeous and desired. One palm leaves the discolored bench to shove his face directly against your boobs, hearing him groan in rapture. The waiter boy gets to work fast, rolling a slick tongue around your nipple and kissing from one to the other, only ever stopping to drool and moan out what could be mindless pleas.

You don't ever slow down.

Fevered with a foreign sense of glee, Grimbly's ripped back from your now soaked tits by the horns, you dip to share a domineering kiss with him, giggling into his mouth, peeling away only to stuff two fingers between his lips. He sucks on them automatically, and your hips snap as harshly as you can when he bites down, breaking the skin. The slight bit of alarm such sudden pain causes you is shadowed by curiosity -Then realization- As you see Grimbly swallow what few rivulets of blood he can leech out of you.

Vampiric. There's something you didn't see coming.

Apparently, the view of you flushed and debased above him, paired with the flavor of your blood and the delicious clench of your cunt around him is the perfect recipe for the monster to see stars, a mangled feminine cry released past your fingers as he seizes and pistons up pointlessly, his orgasm taking hold of him by the neck. Even then, only you remain in control, deciding how hard to milk his poor cock and taking every last bit of cum as deep as possible.

You only slow down when Grimbly begins crying and begging you for a break. Even still, you'd love to continue torturing him, maybe wring a second one out of his mess of a body. You allow yourself a couple of deep, calming breaths, trying to gather your mind in the haze of unfulfilled pleasure. Gentle palms scritch at the bat's chin and cheek, earning a satisfied, adorable purr.

" Mommy y-you... " He starts, when you rise off his spent cock, wiping some of his own seed on him with no shame. " You didn't get to come. "

" I'll live. " You shrug, watching him slump. Truth be told, your legs are a little sore from being tense with need all this time, from deliberately cunt-teasing yourself, but it's better this way.

While Grimbly slumps onto the wood of the bench and catches his breath, you focus on standing up to straighten the dress, comb over your hair, make sure the bleeding stopped, cover your breasts and think.

Your limbs are free, you're clothed and he's disoriented. The surroundings are basically devoid of others, it's calm. If ever there was a golden opportunity to dash away, this would be it. Hesitating, you glance this way and that, trying to estimate how far the garden stretches, if there's anything like gates in the distance. Which would be the fastest way out for that matter? There's almost a sort of smog effect in the air. Truth be told, the more time you spend out there, the less you like it, the more you feel like you shouldn't be here at all.

Which is true, you never should have been anywhere near this fucking hellpit. But it wasn't your choice now, was it?

Lacking any sort of direction, bare feet step onto the stone pathway that you assume leads North. It's hard to tell given how late it's getting and how blurred the sky appears from here.

You don't make it past three steps.

Something coils around your wrist, yanking hard. When you lose balance, stumbling, Grimbly meets your curved form with an eerie deadpan. When had the little shit gotten up? You didn't hear a thing! Your blood freezes.

" Where do you think you're going, mommy? "

" N-Nowhere, baby boy. " You try, as clear a lie as it is.

The bat tuts. " I really thought you loved me, you know? " It's ominous that you can't tell how serious he's being right now.

In seconds, more of a blink really, you're flung onto the very same bench. It takes a couple of stunted, very slow moments, for your brain to click that- Yes, the short thing you easily lifted minutes ago did, in fact, just launch you around like you weigh less than a feather.

You knew it was too good to hope that Grimbly was nothing more than a frail-armed little pipsqueak...

You try to stand again, jolted by pain on your right arm, which took the brunt of the impact. Something can be heard rolling on the stony ground, and when you think to track the waiter, his long tail slides an object from behind that twisted fountain. A transparent spherical shape is snatched in a four-fingered hand, you can spot something alive writhing within it. Fear starts taking a hold of you.

Grimbly unscrews the container and promptly discards the top half, by the time you realize it's imperative to start running, something foreign and wet has collided with your turning body. Frantic, you find... Strings? Tubes? Worms? Oh God, that's disgusting, they're alive and squirming like tentacles, what the fuck are you even looking at?

The purple and blue-ish things sprout to action upon the first blind palping of your skin, wrapping around your upper body tightly and latching wetly onto the back of the bench, jarringly forcing you to sit. It happens so fast that all you can do is bleat in terror and shake your head. The things pulse around your arms and torso, featuring a heartbeat of their own, invasively caressing your form. Your strength is moot against them, there's very little give no matter how hard you flex.

Panic-stricken, you can only look to Grimbly for answers. He appears perfectly calm, having taken the time to clean himself while you were bound.

" See? This is what happens when I can't trust you, mommy. " He pouts. " Trust is the foundation of every good relationship, you know? "

" What- What the fuck are you doing? "

" Nothing! " The waiter perks up, trotting over to your form and placing a light kiss on your forehead. You openly glare at him. " I need you to stay right here for me while I take care of some things in the restaurant, okay? "

" Yay! I'll be right back! After all, we aren't done. " The bat winks, seeming very excited even as he zooms past you. The last thing you hear from him being no more than a rushed- " Don't miss me too much! "

It takes a long while before you realize he wants an actual answer, to which you groan and nod, furious.

A tired, drawn-out sigh flows out your lips.

How many more times will you have to be tied up in a single day? It's getting ridiculous. From present wrapping to ropes to whatever these organic constructs twined around you are. It just gets worse and worse, doesn't it?

Minutes pass. Darkness starts to creep in. You have no way of telling the time and have long since stopped trying to twist out of the tendrils. Or bite them off. You really wish you could hit your head against the wall, maybe drag the bench out with you, but it's firmly planted into the pathway.

There's nothing to do except stare longingly at the open garden, freedom taunting you like the cruel mistress it is. To think that if, maybe, if you hadn't hesitated, put thought into it, you could have been a great distance away from here already... Miserable.

You're trying to roll your shoulders against the oppressive force of the mass around you when the sound of chatter becomes louder. Footsteps, laughter, shouting. Monsters. People are exiting to the outside area of the building. Perhaps for an event? You can't tell, but it's not important.

What matters is that you can't be seen by groups right now, especially defenseless as you are. That'll be your death sentence, the final chapter of your life's book. More alert than ever before, you start squirming in earnest. Like Hell Grimbly's coming for you. You're fucked!

" Damn it! Stupid fucking things- "

Your aggravated growl rings out as you kick and jerk pointlessly, only serving to tire yourself out. Eventually, a forced sense of calmness, resignation effectively, takes hold. You slump without grace and allow the back of your head to rest on the uncomfortable metal frame supporting the wooden bench. When your eyes open, expecting to see nothing but the distorted sky's bleeding hues, two monsters stare down at you from the rooftop of the gothic infrastructure.

No... That's a monster with two heads. A winged, horned monster with paper bags covering its two heads. One of which has a hole ripped onto it, a red glow coming from within.

The fuck is that one supposed to be?

You squint. Demon? But what is he doing on the roof? In spite of the darkening surroundings, you catch glimpses of blue skin, spotted and sprinkled along his bulky body in a pattern that's not too distinct from the one on the stone paths on the ground... Oh.

Oh. It's a gargoyle. Wow. You never actually saw one of those before in your life. They're not very common. Did he... Are the bags stuck on his heads? Is he meant to have two heads?

Momentary shock set aside, it dawns on you that this monster has been curiously eyeing you for a while now. You have no idea for how long he's been staring, perched there silently like a vulture. Perhaps he's hungry, and you're starting to look like a decent appetizer to him. An easy kill. Trepidation has you gulping, though as soon as you open your mouth to try and communicate with him, ready to have to beg if need be, a grating chorus scrapes at your brain.

Another voice joins the choir of strangers conversing not too far away, this one much more obnoxious and harsh, drowning out all the others. The clicking of boots can be heard.

" Can you believe that's all they had for a starter? Absolutely disgraceful! And to think I've been hearing about this dump like it's the be all end all of recreational establishments- I've seen better entrées in the slop bucket shitheaps of Gluttony! "

Oh, there's that headache you were fearing.

" ... Yes, m'lord. "

Two figures approach faster than the rest of the crowd.

One is a towering, very pale demon with sharp facial features and a completely ridiculous attire. The cape is just the cherry on top. Nevertheless, the fact that he's accompanied by a golden-eyed imp in a dress, looking bored out of her mind, must mean he's of some relevance. You glance between the small four-horned demoness and the one ranting angrily as they settle far too close to you for comfort.

The imp takes out a cigarette from her black dress' pocket and lights it to her red lips. She can definitely see you sweating bullets, though just as clearly doesn't give half a fuck. The other one is still much too busy yapping to no one, eyes cast elsewhere.

" I'm not staying here all day, I have better things to do with my time, I'm not like those abject failures getting ruined in there- It's madness, this whole thing! I can't believe I agreed to it in the first place. Are you even listening?! "

The servant jolts, choking on her cigarette for a second as the distant haze fades from her eyes. " H-Huh? Yes, yes of course your majesty! "

Majesty... Uh oh.

You remember the gargoyle above you, checking to see if he's still there. Surprise surprise, he is. Exactly in the same spot, though a lot more tense in the vicinity of this new pair. Between this dubiously intentioned gargoyle and the guy nagging at his imp, you're not sure who to reach out to for help.

Neither option is particularly appealing.

[doyouknowthisbook-poll]

Do you know which book this is from?

Please reblog the polls, but KEEP IT SPOILER-FREE to make people read the excerpt with an open mind 💖📚 Title and author will be revealed after the poll's conclusion.

Note: The alt-text is too long for Tumblr, so the alt-text for this poll is below the cut.

Edit: The results are up here!

It had begun with Christmas and the gift of dolls. The big, the special, the loving gift was always a big, blue-eyed Baby Doll. From the clucking sounds of adults I knew that the doll represented what they thought was my fondest wish. I was bemused with the thing itself, and the way it looked. What was I supposed to do with it? Pretend I was its mother? I had no interest in babies or the concept of motherhood. I was interested only in humans my own age and size, and could not generate any enthusiasm at the prospect of being a mother. Motherhood was old age, and other remote possibilities. I learned quickly, however, what I was expected to do with the doll: rock it, fabricate storied situations around it, even sleep with it. Picture books were full of little girls sleeping with their dolls. Raggedy Ann dolls usually, but they were out of the question. I was physically revolted by and secretly frightened of those round moronic eyes, the pancake face, and orangeworms hair.

The other dolls, which were supposed to bring me great pleasure, succeeded in doing quite the opposite. When I took it to bed, its hard unyielding limbs resisted my flesh-the tapered fingertips on those dimpled hands scratched. If, in sleep, I turned, the bone-cold head collided with my own. It was a most uncomfortable, patently aggressive sleeping companion. To hold it was no more rewarding. The starched gauze or lace on the cotton dress irritated any embrace. I had only one desire: to dismember it. To see of what it was made, to discover the dearness, to find the beauty, the desirability that had escaped me, but apparently only me. Adults, older girls, shops, magazines, newspapers, window signs—all the world had agreed that a blue-eyed, yellow-haired, pink-skinned doll was what every girl child treasured.

"Here," they said, "this is beautiful, and if you are on this day "worthy' you may have it." I fingered the face, wondering at the single-stroke eyebrows; picked at the pearly teeth stuck like two piano keys between red bowline lips.

Traced the turned-up nose, poked the glassy blue eyeballs, twisted the yellow hair. I could not love it. But I could examine it to see what it was that all the world said was lovable. Break off the tiny fingers, bend the flat feet, loosen the hair, twist the head around, and the thing made one sound—a sound they said was the sweet and plaintive cry "Mama," but which sounded to me like the bleat of a dying lamb, or, more precisely, our icebox door opening on rusty hinges in July. Remove the cold and stupid eyeball, it would bleat still, "Ahhhhhh," take off the head, shake out the sawdust, crack the back against the brass bed rail, it would bleat still. The gauze back would split, and I could see the disk with six holes, the secret of the sound. A mere metal roundness.

Grown people frowned and fussed: "You-don't-know-how-to-take-care-of-nothing. I-never-had-a-baby-doll-in-my-whole-life-and-used-to-cry-my-eyes-out-for-them. Now-you-got-one-a-beautiful-one-and-you-tear-it-up-what's-the-matter-with-you?"

How strong was their outrage. Tears threatened to erase the aloofness of their authority. The emotion of years of unfulfilled longing preened in their voices. I did not know why I destroyed those dolls. But I did know that nobody ever asked me what I wanted for Christmas. Had any adult with the power to fulfill my desires taken me seriously and asked me what I wanted, they would have known that I did not want to have anything to own, or to possess any object. I wanted rather to feel something on Christmas day. The real question would have been, "Dear Claudia, what experience would you like on Christmas?" I could have spoken up, "I want to sit on the low stool in Big Mama's kitchen with my lap full of lilacs and listen to Big Papa play his violin for me alone." The lowness of the stool made for my body, the security and warmth of Big Mama's kitchen, the smell of the lilacs, the sound of the music, and, since it would be good to have all of my senses engaged, the taste of a peach, perhaps, afterward.

Instead I tasted and smelled the acridness of tin plates and cups designed for tea parties that bored me. Instead I looked with loathing on new dresses that required a hateful bath in a galvanized zinc tub before wearing. Slipping around on the zinc, no time to play or soak, for the water chilled too fast, no time to enjoy one's nakedness, only time to make curtains of soapy water careen down between the legs. Then the scratchy towels and the dreadful and humiliating absence of dirt. The irritable, unimaginative cleanliness. Gone the ink marks from legs and face, all my creations and accumulations of the day gone, and replaced by goose pimples.

I destroyed white baby dolls.

But the dismembering of dolls was not the true horror. The truly horrifying thing was the transference of the same impulses to little white girls. The indifference with which I could have axed them was shaken only by my desire to do so. To discover what eluded me: the secret of the magic they weaved on others. What made people look at them and say, "Awwwww," but not for me? The eye slide of black women as they approached them on the street, and the possessive gentleness of their touch as they handled them.

If I pinched them, their eyes—unlike the crazed glint of the baby doll's eyes—would fold in pain, and their cry would not be the sound of an icebox door, but a fascinating cry of pain. When I learned how repulsive this disinterested violence was, that it was repulsive because it was disinterested, my shame floundered about for refuge. The best hiding place was love. Thus the conversion from pristine sadism to fabricated hatred, to fraudulent love. It was a small step to Shirley Temple. I learned much later to worship her, just as I learned to delight in cleanliness, knowing, even as I learned, that the change was adjustment without improvement.

[sophieinwonderland]

Hello! So recently I’ve been, yet again, venturing into plural spaces, because of confusion with my own identity as a singlet- or a possible plural.

So I have people in my head. They used to be just voices, but as more time went on and we talked more they started to be more than that. Now they have names- that they or we picked- and different sexualities and different genders than me, and a whole other bunch of differences from me. I even know they look different than me- one looks kind of similar but not identical, and the other two are quite different. One is even a shapeshifter.

But they still seem almost… fake to me. I feel like I’m making it all up because sometimes it feels like I’m just making them say things, even though even now one of them is trying to talk to me. So I guess my question is, is there any way to make them feel more real so I stop doubting? Like ways to visual better or easier ways to allow fronting and the like? Maybe a way I could go into the Inner World or Wonderland (Which I do know we have)?

- 👑🐉 (If Taking These Are Okay)

First, so sorry to have taken so long to get to this. We've had a busy week.

I'd highly recommend reading this article I wrote about how to know if your imaginary friend is sentient. While geared towards tulpas, the test can apply to any "voices" you experience.

A lot of fighting doubt is going to involve keeping track of your experiences and holding onto them later. (Write them down if you need to.) Those things that you just can't explain, that make the idea of "actually, I'm a singlet," seem absolutely silly.

If you're like we were in the beginning, you've probably dismissed the people in your head as figments of your imagination for so long that it's no wonder you would feel like they aren't real. One thing that's important to understand is that this isn't because they're actually fake. But because you've ascribed the trait of fakeness to them.

What you're experiencing, I think, might be a problem of categorization. Imagine that you lived your whole life looking at pink but not having a word for it. Instead, you just call it red.

Whenever you look at pink, all you see is another shade of red.

And I think this is part of what's going on here, and why we tend to doubt our headmates so much.

If you've always identified the actions of these headmates as made up by you, then it's harder to see identify that they're in control themselves and always have been.

Just as you could be looking at the pink but your brain would still interpreting it as another shade of red, you're looking at autonomous self-conscious agents in your brain, but your brain is still trying to convince you that it's all just you.

If you think immersing yourself in a Wonderland would help fight the doubts, I have a list of guides to help with that here:

You may also be interested in pursuing switching and partial possession. This has actually helped us a lot, since I got to the point where I can dispel my host's doubts by forcefully taking control of a hand.

You can also see more possession and switching guides in the Tulpanomicon and test different techniques until you find one that works for you:

Hope these can help! Best of luck to you and your headmates on your journey! Sending my love to you and your headmates! (Be sure to pass it on for me!) 💖💖💖

[localsimpissleepy]

Okay, i think i can post this now

Since a lot of people choose Yes on the Next Gen au poll (which i didn't expect lol, thank you all so much) I decided to introduce the two main characters for this au (because looking back, i still need to work on the other fankids)

So here they are:

I made these fankids on Picrew, credit goes to the creators of these Picrew

Picrew by naylissah

Faer Nova

He/Him

16

(Son of Wanderlust)

Listen, since some people think/hc that Night Swan could have produced Jack asexually, then why can't Wanderlust (also to be safe with Wanderrose just in case)

I'm thinking maybe Wanderlust even created his kid the same way The Traveler created Discoball (i'm pretty sure it's confirmed he created Discoball)

He's very similar to Wanderlust (as well as appearance wise, i'm thinking he has long hair like Wanderlust at first, but he later cut it off due to an unpleasant encounter), but he knows which kind of people he should trust (also when to bail when something goes wrong)

He can be a bit dense and not being able to understand basic emotions that well (since the whole “being created similar to Discoball” might have had a part of that/not being really an alien, also, i see him as kinda being like Caine from TADC), but just like Wanderlust, he just wants the best for everyone

Anyways, got some outfit ideas for him i found on Pinterest

(Side Note: He does have pink stripes of hair and those triangle marks on his face like Si'Ha, but the Picrew i used didn't have those features so yeah-)

.

.

.

Picrew by yashi

Daehyun

He/Him

17

(Basically the Sara and Jack of this au)

Daehyun is a kpop idol of a new boy group, but due to getting criticize on his dance moves by other idols and his company's boss, he got Just Dance in order to practice his dance moves and improve

This caught Faer's attention so he decided to help Daehyun improve his dance moves (i say that and the next second, their both idk fighting bad guys, something Daehyun did not sign up for)

(i imagine their relationship to be like Guy & Molotov Girl from Free Guy if anyone seen the movie)

Unlike Sara, who was excited about being in the game, Daehyun was just very confused and non trusting about everything, so he thought Faer was just some very weird guy that acts like everything is just fine and normal in the Danceverses

Like, Daehyun would be like: Wtf, i had the weirdest dream last night i-

Faer: Oh! That must have been Cthylla!

Daehyun: what-

Faer: Oh she's just a demon that goes into people's dreams from time to time and messes with them!

Daehyun: Jee, that makes so much sense, I feel a lot safer, thanks Faer.

Faer: 😁👍

Outfit ideas for Daehyun (I hit the 10 image limit and also i'm still working on his outfits so here you go i guess)

And that's these two alright, still working on them a bit

For now, feel free to ask questions about them (or their relationship with other characters)

I'll probably post, i guess the Just Dancers of this au later these days

Edit: I decided to change Daehyun because he looked like he was related to Evangeline (my Jack & Brezziana) so yeah

[council-of-beetroot]

I wish so much positivity for your blog I love it it's delicious

↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓

Anyways I love making my characters unexplainably Jewish.

"But *insert country* is majority atheist"

Stfu they're Jewish now

(I actually don't do this too often but I love it when I do like I almost made my Gibraltar OC Jewish but settled on making her Catholic)

Apologies for yapping, here's my question.

do you headcanon anybody as jewish?

I accidentally clicked a notification and my ask that was typed was deleted.

In short yes I do

I headcanon Czechia as Jewish because I just associate Prague with jews. I also think we already have Slovakia who I have as Catholic. There's too many Catholics so I think we need variety.

I also headcanon Austria as Jewish because I have mutuals who do it beautifully.

There were people in my one poll that were like no I can't have him Jewish as Austria itself is too Catholic or I like the Catholic imagery of Spaus or whatnot and I think there's ways to get around that and the nations themselves can often differ from their average citizen.

Like for example Feliks is Poland but he's not exactly the image you think of a Polish Person.

I think in the spaus example, going into the depths of cryptojudaism or conversos with Antonio and Roderich

Currymuttonpizza was talking to me about their Jewish Roderich rationale and how they work it out and it's just so good.

Now Lithuania I don't headcanon him as Jewish in Nation Verse since he just feels too much of that syncretic pagan Catholic type. However he is the type to wrestle with G-D and he has been through a lot. And he also comes to realize how important maintaining and preserving his culture and language when it was in danger of being erased. He holds on to his history and learns from it. It's just very Jewish to me.

Now Poland again I can't headcanon as Jewish but I wish I could because pink judaica is such an aesthetic.

I think despite being majorally Catholic, he doesn't mind other religions. An ally is an ally regardless. I mean he learns this early in life when getting the Teutonic knights to fight Baltic pagans near his territory went so poorly that he ends up allying himself with Lithuania. I think he holds himself to the scrutiny of Catholicism but not others.

In my Passover fic I have him really reflecting on the tradition of saying next year in Jerusalem because he admires the continued faith, hope, and survival of the Jewish people even in the absence of a homeland and this fic is set in the 19th century during the partitions and he thinks about how he really hopes his own people will have that same hope to restore their homeland.

Link here for the Passover fic

I have an Ashkenazi and a Mizrachi Jewish OCs and I really want to make a Beta Israel Ethiopian Jewish OC but need to do more research. Neither of my other OCs are fleshed out a lot.

I don't know how much I can say about my rationale and my thoughts on these ones due to current atmosphere on Tumblr in general.

But I do think it makes sense to have at least a couple different representatives of בני ישראל there are many of us but together we are one people.

My Ashkenazi OC is אשר זליקוביץ Aser Zelikowicz

My Mizrachi OC is אביבה בת-עמי Aviva Bat-Ami

If anyone has any Ethiopian Jewish name info I would be interested

I also low-key want to make Bukharan and Mountain Jewish OCs as well

My family is Jewish and Polish so personally I don't see the issue in blending culture to make a headcanon work. Even for me it's a weird balance, but I care about both parts of me. (I'll save you from that tangent regarding relations between both groups) So I don't think you have to sacrifice one for another when headcanoning say Austria and Czechia as Jewish. (I like the headcanon that they were originally found by Jewish families and that's why they are Jewish even though they are also their countries. )

I also now that I'm thinking about it want to make a Spanish speaking Jewish OC because that always has fascinated me. I remember being in class and my teacher discussing old buildings in Spain that used to be synagogues and my peers staring at me 🤣. Ladino is cool to me. Because I can understand it better than say Hebrew, Yiddish, or Polish.

[lilabella12]

1317 - Day 1

Evan is up before dawn the next day - he has a promise to fulfill. He makes some gruel, it's the only thing he can afford right now and leaves it out for the children when they wake. Then he saddles up and takes a ride to his brother's homestead.

When he finally gets there, he can't believe his eyes. Everything his brother worked for for the last decade is gone.

Alll that's left is a pile of smoldering ashes and some of the walls of their home. He can't let the children see this. The fire even consumed some of the nearby woods and the straw roofs... the only thing left untouched are the unfertile soils of the farm.

It takes him a while but he finds Emma.

Her clothes are burned up, but she feels cold and stiff to his touch. he does the only thing he can for her now - he brings her home.

Of course Daniel and Eve are devastated when they get the news.

Daniel: "I should have gone back, I knew it. I'm so sorry, mother..."

Evan: "You did the best you could, Daniel. You saved your siblings, I told you last night."

Eve can't even speak, her tears shake her whole body.

Daniel: "But I could have done something!"

Evan: "And perish in the blaze as well? You would not even recognize the house, Daniel."

Daniel: "But it's our home! Where will we live now?"

Evan: "WIth me. You will stay here, with me. And Eve and Ian, Flora and Ida."

Daniel: "You will take care of the five of us all on your own?"

Evan: "Yes, Daniel. I will."

After this day the house will get a little cramped, but he will manage. He promised his brother to help whenever he can, so he does.

It has been a while since Jayden died, and after a few weeks, Tara is feeling too weak to stand as well. Leah, who has turned 13 a few days ago, takes care of her mother until she passes.

Now all alone in the house and responsible for her two brothers, she vows to get them through this. Whatever it may take.

| previous | next |

poll under the cut ⬇️

So, just as I wrote before, here's a bit of background information for the last few posts. I've had baaaaaad luck with the dice for these past 2 years.

NONE of the Sims who aged up to adults made it, either with a bad age up roll (red) or bad famine roll (pink). Evan is now the only one who can even take care of anyone if we exclude Leah, who is off in another part of the country and probably doesn't even remember her family that well.

So, I wanted to make the story a bit more interesting, not ONLY starvation due to famine so... my mind made up that thing in the last post and the beginning of this one. I hope it wasn't too much to take in, I did enjoy making this story happen.... I would love to know how you all think about it.

Famine is not over yet, but most of what I wanted to tell is done. For now we will combine sidehousehold 2 & the main household. Now the big question is, do you think Evan needs some help with these 5 kids (and a horse) or should we make him do this all alone until Daniel and Eve (the oldest of the bunch) age up?

I'm not opposed to remarrying him, I kinda think he deserves it, but I'm not sure how to integrate it into the story (yet). Also he might have some baby tries left over. So this is where you come in.

Feel free to leave a message as to why you chose how you chose or to tell me how you feel about the story, I love engaging with other simblrs!

After this post is up, I will take a short break just to see the results so I can incorporate them, then we'll be back to regular posts.

[m4sonn]

° ˖ ✧ Sibling Quarrels ✧˖°

(This was the winner of the poll therefore the first story I make!! <33. I know @wtafmargot wanted to see this fic especially so I decided to tag them so they could see it faster!)

“B-but myeemmmm!! I have plans!! I can’t babysit Kiara!!!”

“Too bad, Keith, I have plans.”

“B-but cmon!! Please!! My friends are literally sitting here waiting to go!!”

Two-bit said as he put his hand a bit behind and to the right side of him to showcase a very awkward and embarrassed set of greasers standing behind him, Johnny’s head which had previously been awkwardly tilted down as he tried not to watch his friend fight with his mom instantly shot up upon attention being brought to him. Johnny looked to the side to Steve, while, meanwhile, was spaced out and in his own little world right now, he blinked back into consciousness and looked around, his face turning red upon realizing all the attention had turned to him.

“We can just leave, it’s no problem two, or your sister could come with us…?” Johnny said sweetly, trying to offer a compromise. Steve was about to throw a fit about ‘not wanting no damn little kids with them’ and ‘not wanting to babysit’ but Johnny gave him a sort of look which told Steve to shut the fuck up for once.

“I’m sorry boys but I just don’t want her going out, plus keith’d have to be home by 7:30 anyways cause that’s her bed time.” Two-bits mom said with a sweet smile. “You boys better get going, Keith can come next time.”

“Bu!-“ “zip it Keith.” “Ok….”

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

“So…. Uh… what do you do…” Two-bit said awkwardly as he looked down at his 6 year old sister “Where’s mommy?” She said with her big eyes as she looked up at her older brother. All two-bit could think was ‘Jesus Christ this bitch got some big ass bug eyes.’ Ever since Kiara got glasses her eyes have been 5x bigger thanks to them and two-bit could NOT get over how hilarious he thought it was. Keith had never had a really close relationship with his sister, Kiara, I mean, they’re 12 years apart so nobody could really blame him but his mom still wished they could’ve spent a bit more time together and hung out more.

“She had to go somewhere” “where” “I don’t know” “why don’t you know” “because I don’t” “why” “because” “but why”

Keith’s responses were basically cut off but how fast his sister piped out responses, starting to get overwhelmed already by her questions.

“I DON'T KNOW KIARA JUST STOP.”

He practically yelled. Kiara looked up at him with her big brown eyes and then bursted into tears. “No, no, no, Kiara I’m sorry… hey…. Hey… don’t cry….”

Two-but said in the softest voice he could manage. Kiara turned her back to him with a pout, sitting on the floor to cry. Keith picked her up off of the floor and tried to calm her down. “Hey, uhm, how about I make you grilled cheese…? Or— uh… want to go walk to the store and get some candy…?”

Upon the mention of candy, Kiara’s eyes lit up. She immediately agreed and off they went to the store. Keith had been trying to save up his pocket money for something he’s really been wanting for a while but… His sister was worth it to him. He let her pick out a few things and only got himself a soda and a bag of chips. They quickly headed home.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

“Two-bit!!” Soda said happily as he bursted into Keith’s front door. Opening his eyes to see two bit sitting across from his sister on a little kid’s table, a cup of weird looking unknown liquid in front of him. His face was decorated with very messy and smeared makeup and rhinestones. He had a pink tutu, a crown, and pink fairy wings over his clothes, his sister in a princess dress, fairy wings, and a crown sitting across from him. The rest of the gang pushed themselves through the door behind him. They all started to cackle upon seeing him. “HAHAHA- TWO BIT WHA?!-“ “she wanted to have a tea party” he said with a goofy smile on his face. “What are you guys doing here anyways?” “We decided that if you couldn’t come with us we’d stay with you” Dally said with a smile. Two-bit and his sister exchanged glances and had that same mischievous smiles on their faces. “Well… since you’re here… there’s enough fairy wings and tutus for everyone.” And after a bit they were all having a tea party.

[yxstxrdrxxm-a]

POLL RESULT—! > Yes.

...

Then it is decided. Good luck.

ALBEDO'S ROUTE: THE BIRTH OF IMPERFECTIONS [ DAY 7: BEGIN ]

It had been days since they've seen ALBEDO again.

Now, YESTERDAY is no fool. They spent the past few days assessing orders and making sure they were well taken care of. That was something they weren't going to forget so quickly.

Maybe he forgot his order, they thought, shrugging as they focused on their job.

Though, it was short lived when they heard the familiar chime of the bell at their door, signifying that someone had came in their shop.

"Excuse me," ALBEDO said, adjusting the coat he wore with a nod. "I'm here to receive my order for the flowers."

"Ah, of course! I'll be right there with you," YESTERDAY replied, raising their head to look at him before they looked away to get to the bouquets.

"Let's see, they're... Chrysanthemum and Gerbera Daisies..." they murmured, retrieving the two bouquets and handing it over to the blonde. "Here they are, wrapped and ready. I made sure that these are as fresh as I can get them."

He nodded in response, retrieving the flowers without fuss. Though, he did raise an eyebrow at the arrangement.

Oh, no. Is there an issue in them?

"... How curious," he said, his lips quirking up to a small smile. "I wasn't expecting for you to choose white chrysanthemums. you seem to have some particular tastes in your arrangement."

Oh. It's just the flowers.

"Ah, well... I thought that the meaning fits you, sir," they replied, scratching the back of their neck. "You seem to be the type to be honest, so it would only make sense for me to choose that, no?"

"Perhaps," he nods in agreement, humming. "As for the Gerbera Daisies, I'm quite intrigued. What made you choose these, and in pink as well?"

The florist paused. There was a lot of reasons for them to say why, but that may not be something that he wants to hear. Pondering over his question, they closed their eye to think.

"... Well," they began, pondering over what to say carefully. "I chose these flowers because I want to..."

This poll will receive answers until 11 PM (GMT+8). Keep in mind that the majority will win, so vote what you think is right.

Additionally, any poll after this with additional votes WILL be null when the results are out. Choose wisely, focus on the recent poll, and ignore the past.

FLAWED TAGLIST: (send an ask to be added for Flawed!) @beloved-blaiddyd ; @mixed-kester ; @mochinon-yah ; @fffiii ; @leftdestiny-posts ; @ambrosia-divine

[archoniluthradanar]

A Day at the Fair with the Volturi Masters

The third place winner for the Summer Fun with the Volturi Masters, story poll results.

A Day at the Fair with the Volturi Masters

When you were younger, you'd look forward to the State Fair every Summer. There were the rides, the games, and the unhealthy food. When you heard about a fair coming to the Pisa area, you asked Aro if you all could go so you could share your youthful experiences.

Aro asks you if it can be done in a day, and you assure him it will take less time than the baseball game since it's here in Italy. You try to make it sound like fun, but Aro's curiosity is what cinches the trip. You agree to drive while the masters enjoy the ride.

You thank all the masters for letting you get out to enjoy some fun. You wouldn't mind going out alone, but know they would never allow you to go so far without protection, and they like providing that. They're learning a lot from you about modern humans. Perhaps in time you wonder if they'll tire of these trips and allow Felix or Demetri to go with you instead.

Once you've parked the car, you get out and wait for the masters. Reaching the Midway, you feel the excitement of the music and smells and lights that is the fair. The Ferris Wheel looms in front of you. Why does it seem taller now than when you were child?

"Do you wish to ride that?" Aro asks. He has seen nothing like it.

"Yes, but don't make me ride with Caius. He'll rock the basket and then we'll fall. No biggie for him. He's impervious to damage, or so I assume. If I fall, I go splat."

Caius makes a face at you, laughing low as if everything you said were true. "Our little human is somewhat of a coward then," Caius remarked teasingly. It just made you want to punch him on the arm, but that would hurt you more than him.

"And Aro, you will be so curious about everything while going round and round, you'll ignore me for the most part. I think I want to ride with Marcus. He'll sit quietly and let me hold onto him."

"If you wish to ride with Marcus, that's fine with us, my dear," Aro says. "But I want to ride with you first." He stares at you, unblinking, his head slightly tilted, something you've learned means he won't take no for an answer.

You look to Marcus who nods at you, giving his consent to linger until you and Aro are done.

You both stand in line, waiting for the baskets to be emptied and reloaded with new riders. When your basket arrives and you are allowed onboard, you and Aro sit opposite one another.

Aro settles in place in the basket, giving you a side glance that you catch and turn to give the vampire a smile. "My dear, are you happy with us?"

Surprised at the question, you answer truthfully, "Yes, Aro, I am. You've been kind and generous to me since i stumbled into this place. I feel safe and protected here. I'm also enjoying sharing human experiences with you all. Is there a reason you're asking me such a question? Do you doubt my loyalty to you all?"

"Not at all. It's just that I've noticed you give Marcus a great deal of attention."

You wonder why Aro is so concerned to whom you give your 'attention'. "Is there a problem? He seems to like me, but if he came to you to ask you to talk to me..."

"You misunderstand, my dear. I like that you appreciate our Marcus. I wonder, how much do you care about him?"

You inhale, worried about where this line of questioning is going. Why would Aro be concerned? "I love you all, you know that. You're intelligent and very gracious when I ask questions. I've learned a lot from you. You're all attractive as hell and you're all..." You blush pink, making Aro grin. "...wonderful lovers. But when I'm with Marcus, he's like a warm blanket on a chilly day. Besides, you and Caius have your mates. Marcus has no one. I guess I feel protective of him."

"As he does you, my dear. I think you may have noticed." Aro looked around the fair when the basket stopped at the top.

You think about Aro's words. How do you feel about Marcus? You love him, but are you in love with him? You remembered his touches, his kisses, and how they set you on fire that day at the park. Now you wonder if you two were alone in his bedroom, with no one else around, what would it be like. Would it be all the sweeter, just the two of you. Oh god, now you're just giving Aro more to read.

"Dear one, you seem lost in thought. I didn't mean to distress you in any way."

"Aro, can we just let things go as they are, and if Marcus lets me know that he...wants more, then he and I can discuss that. Alone."

Aro smiles. "Of course. You are a treasure to us all in any case." He leans over and kisses your cheek, then holds your warm hand in his cold one. The ride begins again, and your stomach is left upstairs as the basket drops toward the ground before heading back up and around again. You laugh from the sensation, and Aro laughs with you.

When your turn is done, and the ride attendant lets you out of the basket, you both walk down the ramp to the waiting masters.

"I didn't know playing kissy-face was part of the ride, Aro," Caius says, one brow raised.

"Caius, where ever did you hear that term," you ask, astounded he knows any modern slang, as old as he is.

"I want to ride with you, so we can do that too," he demands.

You walk up to him and place your hands on his cool face. You lean in and kiss him deeply, your lips parted. When you step back, a sigh leaves your lips.

Taking this as a challenge, Caius grabs your hand and cuts the line to hop into the next basket. You give the attendant a look of apology and get in, sitting across from Caius.

You look back at Marcus and shrug, but he smiles, knowing Caius longer than you have. You point a finger at your ride partner, telling him he'd better not rock the basket, or he may end up with vomit on his shoes.

"That's not very romantic, dear one." He puts an arm around you and draws you closer, but just before he kisses you, Caius hears Aro down below ordering him to let you go.

"It's not like I'm holding her hostage, brother."

To you, it's strange to hear these two speaking with one another as if they were talking to themselves. She could barely hear Aro at all.

Caius pouts while you laugh. "I still love you," you tell him, drawing a smile from him.

When the ride is over, you want to take advantage of your companion's vampire strengths.

You walk down the lines of games, and eventually see a stuffed animal you want. It's a giant gorilla, dark brown, with soft and fluffy fur. "One of you has got to play this game. Your hand-eye coordination is perfect, and your strength would take down every one of those bottles."

"Is that the goal, to knock down all the bottles?" Aro asks.

"Yes! If you knock down a total of 10 bottles, I win...that," you say, pointing at the gorilla.

Caius scoffs. "You want that horrid thing!"

You protest because you love large stuffed animals. "It's not horrid. It's looks very comfy, and something nice to hug at night."

Caius smirks. saying, "If you want something to hug at night, I'll volunteer."

You glare at Caius in mock anger. "You're hard and cold, Caius. It's not the same as a soft, warm, animal-shaped...toy thing."

You look up at Marcus, who is staring at you, forcing you to look away. Your cheeks suddenly feel warm. When Caius and Aro walk toward the game booth, you whisper so low, you hope only Marcus will hear you. "There are other things I wouldn't mind hugging," is all you say, not even looking at him standing behind you. You start to head for the game booth to join the masters, feeling a cool hand lightly rest on the small of your back.

Caius knocks over the requisite number of bottles, winning easily. You point at the gorilla so the booth attendant can pick it off the top of the booth. He hands it to you, congratulating you and Caius. You give the blonde vampire a kiss, thanking him.

You all continue to wander the gaming area, until Aro stops in front of a booth.

"So, what is the goal of this game," Aro asks, examining another booth.

"See those balloons. You try to hit them with these darts. You get three tries. It's not impossible, but the darts need to be pointed just so to pop the balloons. The heads are probably dulled, so there again, strength helps.

"Too simple," Caius growls.

"Yeah, for you. With your hand-eye coordination, your aim can't miss."

Both Caius and Aro give it a try, winning you a beautiful blue vase and a purple velvet cushion you decide would look good on your bed.

Marcus prefers standing behind you, both hands on your shoulders. You can feel his cool breath on your head, giving you goosebumps.

You spy a booth selling food, and cry for joy, seeing ice creme. Pints of the cold treat in every flavour tempt you. "I'll be right back," you tell the masters. You pick out a pint of Cookies and Creme, grab a plastic spoon, and begin to eat the the ice creme. The masters watch you with curiosity. "Alright, maybe I'm prepping for the day I no longer get to eat real food. Sue me." You take a large scoop of the ice creme on your spoon, and eat most, but some is left so you use your tongue to lick off the remaining ice creme.

You look up at Caius, who is staring at you, his eyes darkening to crimson. "What?" you ask, your spoon held in mid-air. He takes a step closer to you, a grin on his flawless face. "Aro!" you call out.

"Brother!" Aro says, scolding the blonde vampire.

"I meant nothing," he tells you. "It's just that your tongue would be better suited licking something else."

You blush furiously, uncomfortable with the sexual innuendo Caius often teases you with. It's not that it offends you, but you never know when or if he's being serious. The masters are all beautiful men, and they often set your mind to daydreaming, but you prefer to be more of an assistant to them, not a sexual plaything.

"Yes, well, when you taste like Cookies and Creme..." You wink at him and turn back to the fair, looking for something else you want to enjoy.

Your little group wanders around when you come across an insignificant ride all fair midways seem to have, the Haunted House. You throw your empty ice creme pint in a trash container and turn to the masters, "Who wants to ride with me?"

"What is this, my dear?" Aro asks you.

"it's supposed to scare people, make them jump and scream."

"We can do that," Caius says proudly sneering. "Do you know how many humans I've made scream?"

You take his arm and walk with him. "I imagine it's been hundreds, thousands even. But this is fun screaming, not fear screaming. Do you understand the difference?"

"Hmm, doesn't seem fun screaming would be much fun for me."

Marcus is suddenly at your side. He gives the gorilla to Caius to hold while you're on the ride. "Let us go on this together while Aro teaches Caius the difference between scaring humans and killing them." Marcus takes your hand and heads to the ticket cage for the so-called Haunted House ride. He buys two tickets and leads you to the waiting car that rumbles along the old track, breaking through the double-door entrance and into the dark building.

Even though you know you're not afraid, you still hate being startled when people jump out at you. "Now Marcus, please remember if someone jumps out at us, they're just part of the show. Do not attack anyone."

You think you hear a low chortling coming from Marcus, and turn to look up at him. When his arm encircles you, you smile and nestle against him.

The car moves forward into the darkness, fake skeletons and stuffed monsters all around you. "You know, Marcus, since I've met you and the other Volturi, I find I'm not scared of monsters anymore."

"Is that so, child?"

"Yes, absolutely. I'm more frightened of a human with a gun than any of you."

"If you did not know us personally and met us on a dark night, would you be afraid then?" Marcs asked, curious.

"I'd be afraid...that you'd kill and not change me."

He let out a laugh and tightened his arm around you. You love to hear his laugh since it tells you Marcus is feeling free to enjoy life again. He has not yet told you it's because of you.

The car turns a corner and you find yourselves trying to fend off fake but entangling cobwebs. You laugh in a simple amused way, but wish you could just talk to Marcus uninterrupted by the ridiculous props eager to eat you. You hear screams in the distance and wonder if someone was actually being killed since this place is as far from scary as it could possibly be. But then with Marcus beside you, you have no need to be afraid of anything.

You gather your courage and ask the tall master, "Marcus, if you don't mind me asking, what are your feelings for me? I know how Aro feels about me, and Caius, well the less said about him, the better. I mean I love you all, even Caius. But..."

Before you can say another word, you feel Marcus' cold hand on your chin, turning your face toward him. He leans in to kiss you, his fingers on your cheek while his hand holds your chin. When he pulls back, his thumb brushes across your lips.

Marcus sits back, his arm resting on the outer side of the car, his other arm still around you.

You peer up at him in the darkness, and even though you can barely see his expression, you feel his is one of self-satisfaction. You smile and lean into his cool body, one hand resting on his thigh.

The car breaks through the exit doors and swings around the track to sit outside once more. Aro notices you and Marcus seated in the car, then watches his brother get up, holding his hand out to you. He smiles at the visible sparks between the two of you and nods to himself.

You feel suddenly very tired. The kiss from Marcus made you want more, but when the ride ended, it's as if you shut down and simply wanted to sleep.

"It is time to return home, brothers. Our little human seems to have faded, energy-wise, and needs her rest." Marcus holds onto to you, feeling picking you up in his arms would not look seemly in front of all these humans. When you all reach the car, Aro decides he will drive back to the castle. Marcus slides you into the back seat, and lets you fall against him, your hands snuggling under your chin while you attempt to nap. Caius passes the hairy gorilla back to Marcus, who sets it aside. He'd rather you be hugging him at the moment.

You nestle close to him, letting his sweet scent lull you to sleep.