#and in whatever spirit she takes it (and she is allowed!) she uses it as feedback

[itspileofgoodthings]

also … that IS one of her greatest strengths. using criticism to better her craft and propel herself forward.

[allbark-no-bite]

good boy.

art donaldson x reader (wc: 2.9k)

summary: as Art’s personal physical therapist, it’s your job to fix what Tashi has torn apart, by whatever means necessary. or in which Art just needs some TLC

warnings: 18+ smut, it could be worse tbh, mentions of disordered eating

author’s note: i’m back ig?? im out of uni for the summer and challengers has me in a chokehold. Art Donaldson the man that you are

————————————————————————

You're standing just within earshot of the doorway, passing a sanitary wipe over one of the tables in the athlete treatment room when you hear the door abruptly open. Tashi storms in with a purpose and Art trails meekly behind her. Even if you had been clueless to how the match had gone rather than on the sidelines beside Tashi not even twenty minutes ago, you could have guessed by the hard line of her mouth that Art was in for it. Not that her displeased scowl was much different from her usual scowl, but you'd been around long enough to know the difference.

She stops abruptly, and Art heels obediently as Tashi turns around to face him. "I need you to tell me when you're going to fucking get it together so that I can stop wasting my time."

Weary and sweat soaked, Art just stares at her with that pitiful look on his face and says nothing in reply. His blue eyes solemnly take in her harsh disappointment as though beyond used to it. At this point it's not all that foreign to you either.

"You may as well be fucking asleep out there," she snaps.

This time his mouth opens. "I- I'm just tired-" he begins, although there's hardly any argue to his voice at all.

"No, I'm tired, Art," Tashi interjects. "Do you have any idea how much fucking work I've put into getting you back onto the court this past year?! I've done everything! The least you could do go out there and try to act like I've done anything for you at all!"

Art swallows, the slight frown on his face deepening. "I am. I just- I don't-"

Before he can even finish his sentence. The open palm of Tashi's hand connects with his cheek as she pops the left side of his face. Art closes his mouth. You pretend to concentrate on wiping down the table. It's not the first time you've witnessed one of these conversations but it still feels private, like you shouldn't be here. You keep wiping the table.

Understanding that anything else he says is only going to make Tashi angrier, Art resigns to once again watching her in silence. His blue eyes are sad. The usually fair skin of his cheek is tinted pink where she popped him. Although it wasn't very hard, you're sure it still hurt him all the same.

"Quit wasting my time," is all she says before she finally turns and leaves, walking right past you and out the other door. You hold your breath as she passes you. Art watches her go but makes no move to follow. You release an audible sigh. It's been a frustrating day for everyone. As Art's personal trainer, physical therapist, and close friend, you felt every loss, every ache and pain, every bad play. And there seemed to be a lot of those lately.

Art is still standing there, watching the closed door that Tashi left though.

Not knowing how to break the silence, you finally pat the freshly sanitized treatment table. "C'mon," you call gently, as though beckoning to a wounded dog.

It takes a moment for him to budge, but eventually he does, his disheartened spirit apparent in the way he walks over. Used to the usual routine, he tugs his damp shirt off over his head as he takes a seat, the lean muscles of his torso flexing as he does so. You allow yourself to ogle at him, only for a brief moment before stepping in between the bracket of his knees. Gently, you cradle his chin, tipping his head back to look up at you as your thumb smooths over the redness of his cheek. His blue eyes blink up at you, sad and dog-like.

"It wasn't terrible," you reassure him. "You had surgery six months ago. You're still getting your feet back underneath you. Most people wouldn't have come back." You're right. The still-pink scars on his shoulder are still fresh on your mind. The stitches weren't even out before Tashi had him in physical therapy. Even though his medical team had released him, it was still a bit early to start doing rehab so soon after surgery, Art's comfort being your biggest concern. But when Tashi wants something, she gets it.

Wordlessly, Art sighs, the weight of his head settling into your palm as he finally lets go of the tension he'd been carrying. It was always like this. You fixing what Tashi had torn apart. You understood where Tashi was coming from. Art needed a firm voice in his training, and you had a lot of respect for the way she put her foot down and never let up, not even once. But there was only so many times you could kick a dog while he was down.

So if Art needed someone to coddle him, you would coddle him.

He trusts you. He needs you, is what Tashi had told you when she asked you to stay on as his trainer full time. The three of you had been in the same year at Stanford all those years ago, Tashi and Art on the tennis team and you helping out as a student trainer as part of a class requirement. Three peas in a pod, the trio of you were. Of course then they both graduated, leaving you to finish up your schooling, meanwhile Art set off to go pro.

A few years later, once Tashi officially took on the position as Art's coach, she began building his team, and that's where you came in. You were hesitant at first.

'I already lost to you once, Tashi. I won't come in second to you again.'

She had paused on the other end of the line. Back in your Stanford days, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that you were head over heels in love with the blonde tennis player. But loving Art was like accepting the participation ribbon for a game you knew you weren't going to win in the first place. It was like standing next to the podium, just lucky enough to be included in the picture while Tashi and tennis took first and second place. And so you let him go.

'I'm not asking you to. This is different.'

Your hand slips from his face, and he forces his eyes open.

“Have you eaten?" you ask, stepping away in order to put some distance between the two of you and look for the granola bars that you keep especially for him. The gels were good sources of quick fuel in between sets, but they were hardly enough to even begin to make up for the calories he burned while playing.

Slowly, Art shakes his head, but he makes no move to take the snack from your hand when you offer it to him. Ever since his injury, nutrition became all the more important. So much to the point that every single thing that he consumed was mapped out to the exact calorie. Although he would never admit it, any sort of change in this routine made him incredibly anxious. Some days it was better not to cause him the anxiety than to force him.

Today, you insistently hold out the bar until he begrudgingly takes it from your hand. You don't move until you've seen him tear open the package and take a bite.

"Were you still feeling tight?" you ask as you walk around the table, stopping at the slouch of his turned back. You reach out to grasp at the joint of his neck and shoulder, your thumb smoothing over the kinesiology tape that's peeling away at the base of his neck.

He half turns his head to glance back at you. "You watched the match. You tell me."

His response is meant to be snippy, but it comes out more defeated than anything. To be fair, you've been his trainer long enough to know that if something was bothering him physically, you would have picked up on it.

"I want to hear it from you."

"I felt fine."

Your left hand follows suit on the other side of his neck, and you use both of your thumbs to apply pressure to what you assume will be a tense spot along the upper part of his traps. Predictably, Art groans at the attention. The muscles of his back contract as he fights the urge to shake you off. Relaxing the muscle hurts as much as it feels good. Besides his obvious discomfort, the rest of his body has gone lax under your touch. His shoulders have dropped at least an inch, and his chin has fallen to rest against his chest.

"Finish your granola bar," you reprimand him, your firm fingers working across his back until you find another spot that nearly has him jerking away. He releases a whine but obediently takes another bite of the bar. This time he finishes it before you have to remind him again.

You spend a few more minutes torturing him before you're satisfied that a majority of the tension has left his shoulders.

"Okay, good boy," you murmur, leaning forward so that your chest is close enough to brush against his back. One of your hands trails up to squeeze the back of his neck reassuringly.

You're close enough to hear him swallow at the name. The skin on the nape of his neck shivers despite how hot he still is from the match.

"Was I?" he asks timidly. "Good today?"

'I can be his coach. Or I can be the person he cries to after a bad day. But I can't be both. That's why he needs you."

Without removing your hand from his neck, you walk around the table so you're standing in front of him. Art widens the spread of his legs so that you can stand between them. His chin is still pressed to his chest, blue eyes focused on the ground.

"Art," is all you say, shifting your grip on his neck to tug lightly at his golden blonde hair. At your voice, he lifts his head just enough to look up at you through the pale wisps of his eyelashes. The irises of his blue eyes shine are wet with uncertainty.

Your fingers loosen their grip to allow your nails to scratch at his scalp. "You're good, Art. You'll always be good."

Art twists his head to nuzzle his cheek along the inside of  your outstretched arm. His lips kiss the crook of your elbow. He swallows again. "Even if I don't play tennis?"

You can tell the question's been bothering him, eating at his nerves, and messing up his game. You know him well enough to know that retirement isn't what he wants, not really. At least not right now. What he wants is the reassurance that it's going to be okay if he can't swing the comeback.

"Look at me."

He lingers a moment longer with his lips pressed lovingly against your skin before he reluctantly shifts his gaze up to you. His look is anticipatory but reserved, as if to preemptively conceal his disappointment should you choose to crush his heart with your answer.

His fear is understandable. Art's relationship with Tashi has always been entirely built off of his tennis career. By being the driving force behind his success, Tashi has vicariously lived out the life she would have had had her injury never happened. Without tennis, Art has nothing left to offer her. He knows that if he gives up tennis, he loses Tashi.

Your relationship with Art was a little less conditional. Hell, you'd been in love with him since the first time you'd laid eyes on him at Stanford. You can still picture him standing there on the court, barely nineteen, scrawny, nervous smile, backwards cap over his strawberry blonde hair. Before he was the Art Donaldson. But when Tashi had stepped into the picture, you figured that was where your fairytale ended.

"I don't love you because of tennis. I love you because you're kind, and thoughtful, and you're passionate about what you do." You smile a bit before adding, "And you're my good boy."

The name turns him bashful again, and he's quick to turn and hide his smiling face against your arm, only the flushed tips of his ears visible. "[Y/n]," he mumbles, likely meaning to be threatening, but it doesn't come out that way.

Art Donaldson lived to be praised.

You laugh, pulling him closer so that his face is held against your chest. The hand that you don't have threaded through his hair trails up the muscle of his defined quad. "You're my good boy. Aren't you, baby?"

Art whines, squirming when your hand reaches the apex of his thigh and hovers over the forming bugle of his shorts. He's not quite there yet, his dick only half chubbed up in interest, but given the day that he's had, you won't make him wait.

"Please?" he mumbles, his face still buried into your collarbone, as if attempting to curling into you, like a small child needing their parent to hold them for comfort.

You rake your nails lightly up the inside of his thigh. "What, baby?"

Not only did Art liked to be praised, but he was masochist even on his worst days.

"Want you to touch me," he mumbles, his voice muffled by your shirt. "Please."

Your hand still scratching through his hair, you press a kiss to the side of his head, unable to suppress your smile at his timid politeness and how it never seems to fail him. The only time he ever resembled anything remotely voracious was on the court.

Palm finding his tented shorts, you cup him through the fabric. Art responds immediately to your touch, his hips shifting further into your grasp. You continue to pet him through his shorts, appreciating the way you can feel him actively responding to your touch.

His nails dig into the padding of the treatment table when you give his now fully hard dick a less than sympathetic squeeze. His breath is hot as he pants against your collarbone, alternating between laving open mouthed kisses to your skin and whining when you pause fondling him just to feel his hips rut up into your palm.

Art was so in control on the tennis court, that often after a match, putting the control into someone else's hands was just what he needed.

When his hips start to stutter, you ease up but continue to stroke him through his shorts. The front of his shorts are damp with the musk of residual sweat and precum.

His breath is shallow—anticipatory.

"Gunna come?" you ask softly, speaking into the blonde mess of his hair, cradling him. He right there, you can tell by the lackluster buck of his hips, his building fatigue, and the change in his breathing.

"Can I? —Please?" Art asks breathily. He hiccups out the last part, his voice catching.

"You know you don't have to ask."

There's a brief pause, as if coming to the realization, before he meekly murmurs, "I know.

It should be sad really, his unwavering obedience, but there are two sides to Art, two polar extremes. On the court, every match, every set, every debilitating second is up to him. No one else can help him out there, and up until about a year ago, he played like it. That was the side of Art Donaldson that Tashi wanted. After the match is a different story. In private, Art needed someone to do the thinking for him, to pull him into a reality where he could believe that it didn't matter whether he won or lost. Tashi had not the sympathy nor the patience for that kind of fragility.

Art comes with a brief cry into your chest, his body arching into yours. Your hand palms at his pulsing dick until he's oversensitive and pulling away. When you relent, the front of his shorts are sticky and wet.

Finally, Art lifts his face from the safety of your chest. His blue eyes are glossed over, but it's an improvement from the detached look they held ten minutes ago. His cheeks are flushed, a mixture of his own embarrassment and satisfaction. 

You can't help the soft smile that creeps onto your face at the look of him, and immediately Art is abashedly trying to hide his face again, his own smile starting to appear. Before he can, you bring your hands back up to cradle his face, thumbs wiping away the wetness from under his eyes. This time he lets you.

His eyes study your face for a second, admiring you, appreciating the love he has for you.

“I don’t want to play tennis anymore.”

You can’t tell if it’s more of a statement or a confession. Either way, you know he’s telling you the absolute truth.

“Okay,” you reply softly, not hint of judgement in your voice. Maybe some disappointment, but that was understandable.

Retirement would be a kindness. Art would finally put back on some healthy weight, start smiling again, put on a real, actual smile. You could already see it, a nice house for the two of you to settle down in, with a picket fence and a dog in the backyard, the kind of things the two of you would have never had time for on tour.

Tennis had brought the two of you together, but it wouldn’t end you.

[val-of-the-north]

The "Hornsent deserved it" sentiments make me lose my goddamn mind

Short answer: No they didn't.

Long answer: Oh my gooooooooooood can we NOT do this shit, please???

There are two underlying sentiments to this line of thinking.

The Hornsent hurt Marika's people, thus Marika did nothing wrong, therefore they deserved to die badly

The Hornsent hurt Marika's people + Midra and some others, Marika is still evil, but the Hornsent deserved to be destroyed

Both may even come to the extreme of "Messmer wasn't cruel enough" or some other nonsense in the same vein.

-

Number 1

To tackle number one, we need to remember a little thing called Elden Ring's base game. The Hornsent's jar ritual is undoubtedly abhorrent, that much is true. But I urge you to remember the things that happened during Marika's reign. She:

Murdered all of the Fire Giants but one, subjecting him to a fate similar to hers but worse, forced into labor confined on the mountain among the remains of his people and culture. She mocked him, to boot. All of this because they might have burnt the Erdtree.

Enslaved the Misbegotten from birth "or worse" because their species just so happened to have made contact with the Crucible.

Rewarded her own loyal Crucible Knights with scorn because of it too, as they didn't fit her current society that they fought to establish.

Made sure the Albinaurics were seen as lesser just because they were graceless, which influenced the way they were treated. She even had her Inquisition, run by Rykard, torture them in needlessly cruel manners, as they appear to be their main victims.

Just in general, she allowed Rykard to run a sadistic Inquisition to torture heretics to the Golden Order in the first place, and she saw nothing wrong with it or their practices.

She entombed the entire Great Caravan over a false rumor, which is the sole reason why the Flame of Frenzy was even a problem during her reign. This has also scarred the remainder of their people greatly.

Made the lives of all Omen a living hell either by cutting their horns just as they were born which often kills them, hunting them down in as cruel a way as possible by using their trauma and body parts against them, or throwing them in a sewer to fester with evil spirits hidden from view. She also used to shackle them, including her two children, just to make extra sure they wouldn't crawl out.

Shunned anyone who saw a vision of the Erdtree burning, regardless of who it was, and chased them away from their homes.

Literally allowed the belief that shorter people are somehow lesser, for apparently no reason at all (her most random discrimination decision tbh). This forces them to band together and take up honorless jobs just to get by, and in turn, people start to spread rumors of their inhuman practices, which are likely all untrue.

Had people literally work as slaves for the nobility just by virtue of "being born into obscurity", whatever that means. As well as other accounts of slavery like the Fallen Hawks (likely tied to the defeated soldiers of ancient Stormveil).

Likely endorsed viewing anyone without Grace as inferior beings, which includes the Tarnished that only exist because she divested them of it. She has done nothing to ease their discrimination (despite potentially seeing them as a future asset of sorts), as even the members of the Crusade are more than ready to kill us, like Fire Knight Queelign.

All of this was done in service to HER religion and order. Killing all the Fire Giants and burying the Nomadic Merchants alive? Oh, they could have ruined her age with those pesky flames of theirs.

Systematically oppressing Omen, Misbegotten, Albinaurics and the likes? Oh, they are impure creatures, unlike her people, blessed with the Grace of Gold, elevated from the rest. (Which is the exact same line of thinking as the Hornsent and their horns for crying out loud).

"Oh but the Hornsent stuffed her people into jars" yeah, and I am not arguing the contrary! It was a cruel, deranged practice, born of simple superstition that their victims would be reborn as "good people". But Marika's answer if you don't fit her vision of the world is to either get rid of you and your people through extermination, by literally hounding you from your rightful home, or by enslaving you.

Both sides are genuinely awful... but there's only one side that people are justifying, and it sure as hell isn't the Hornsent.

Marika's backstory is meant to make her less a god, which is all we have ever known her to be before the DLC, and more a human, which is what she once was. It gives her complexity as a character, it's meant to be the catalyst from which we learn why she took the path that she took. It is absolutely not meant to make us go "holy shit guys, Marika was the good guy all along???", because what she brought upon this world through her burning desire for vengeance has ruined it irreparably, and ruined the lives of most of the creatures who inhabit it.

This includes her ruthless, honorless, pointless Crusade against the Hornsent. Sure, it was her own son that started it, but it was for her sake. It was her who allowed him to wage it, he had her full support... until the thing turned to such a slaughter-fest that even she could not associate with it anymore due to how appalling it all was. And what better way to do that than to seal her own son away to wage war endlessly? And not just because his actions made her look bad, but also for the same crippling fear and prejudice that saw her kill all Fire Giants but one and scar the Great Caravan.

Gratuitous violence across the board, and for what?

(I want to make it absolutely clear that I don't mean you can't like Marika now. In fact, I'd say the DLC made her much more of an interesting character to me as well. I just cannot fathom seeing the entirety of Elden Ring and coming out thinking "wow Marika was the good guy" because she isn't. Heck, coming out thinking that she'd be disgusted with what her grandson Godrick is doing with grafting as if she isn't the queen of having zero empathy for those who are graceless or aren't her family, which the Tarnished he grafts are neither. She'd probably be very proud if anything. Marika is a monster. She became one the moment she obtained godhood, because no milestone would quell her. She did all the wrongs, so take this whole section as a refresher in case you had forgotten)

-

Number 2

Now, to tackle number 2... this one seemingly has more nuance, but falls for the tried and true pitfall of "the many must pay for the crimes of the few" which is exactly where it rots and collapses onto itself.

Apparently, because of the perpetrators of the Jar Rituals, ALL Hornsent, INDISCRIMINATELY, deserve to be destroyed. They all, each and every single one, deserve the Crusade and the absolute pointless ruin that it brought them. From the children, to the ones who were friends with people with no horns, to the ones who found their own practices grotesque, to the ones that weren't even tied to the Tower's religion and were just simply living their lives.

They ALL, EQUALLY deserve to be burned, to have their cities destroyed, to have their lives ruined. All of them. Ok.

Number 2 works with the assumption that the Hornsent are some sort of hive mind. Some sort of all-encompassing religious order who believes in their superiority. But that's just the Tower's religion. Hornsent are a people. And people are individuals, with their own opinions, their own lives. In fact, from the perspective of the average Hornsent citizen, they were attacked out of nowhere as they were living in peace, which likely means they weren't even at war with Marika before this event.

People also have the assumption that all of the Hornsent were benefiting from their society, which is blatantly false. In fact, outside the treatment of the Shamans, the people that we know the Hornsent have hurt the most are their fellow Hornsent. We know of quite a few of them suffering at the hands of their kin BECAUSE of their religious and cultural practices.

Being Hornsent isn't a "free from mistreatment" card. If anything, the large Gaols where they were imprisoned were built specifically to house them. The main prisoners we find in large numbers are commoners, the same types as the ones scavenging the ruins of their ravaged towns. They are often seen eating maggots off the floor and cowering in fear. All of them were Hornsent too, locked away for who knows what crime. Could have been big and important, small and insignificant, or even just a failure to do something properly (there's precedent), point is, it's clear the Hornsent weren't having a good time in there.

The jar rituals were used mainly as punishment for the imprisoned Hornsent themselves, as a way to have them become "good people". This was just as horrifying for the Hornsent prisoners as it was for the Shamans I assume. Look how terrified this Hornsent seemed at the prospect of sharing that fate. This is the reason why they chopped up Shamans in the first place, as ritual ingredients for a punishment meant primarily for their kin.

And there were more Hornsent who suffered because of the leading ideology. Curseblades were once shunned because they failed to become tutelary deities, and so they were thrown in the Jar Gaols. They were only let out so they could use their expertise and flowing movements to defend their homeland when Messmer invaded, otherwise they'd be rotting with the Innard Shamans and the other Hornsent prisoners the way Labirith is.

It's also worth pointing out that Midra's Mense was filled with Hornsent attendants who sided with their sagely master regardless of his lack of horns and what the Inquisition believed of him. If we were to operate with reasoning number 2, they too would deserve to be murdered in the Crusade because they just so happened to be Hornsent. Because ALL Hornsent deserve extermination for what happened to the Shamans.

And we also know that the Hornsent can find what happens in Bonny Village revolting. In fact, we know that from someone who was born and raised there.

This sounds nothing like someone who thought any of that was ok. So who is to say other Hornsent weren't like this too, especially those who DIDN'T live in Bonny Village? Those who risked being stuffed into those same jars themselves? We make waaaay too many assumptions about an entire race, and that in itself is foolish enough.

If there's someone to blame, it's the Tower's Inquisition. They are the religious order that governs the Hornsent. They have all the power in their society... and yet, would you look at that? Enir-Ilim, their sanctum, the one place where those calling the shots reside, is completely untouched. And what about Bonny, the most structurally fine Hornsent settlement, when you'd expect it to be a black stain of char by now. But nope, no sign of Messmer activity and the Greater Potentates are just running around naked, doing their thing as usual.

The Crusade isn't even a good tool of vengeance, the only ones suffering are the civilians who were likely the ones with a higher risk of ritual jar punishment anyway. If this isn't proof enough that the Crusade is a completely petty, useless revenge war that accomplishes nothing I don't know what else to say. I'll just leave with what the people taking part in it were taking pride in doing.

These are people who, without a shadow of a doubt, would have chopped up most of the oppressed groups described earlier and stuffed them into jars if Marika had told them to do so. (Heck, something like this was being done to the Albinaurics already, as we have seen previously...)

They have zero moral superiority, their deranged zealotry is the only reason they act in the first place. Not to mention that they have no connection to Marika's struggles or past, nor were they informed of them I bet. It's likely only Messmer truly knows the reason for the Crusade, and that's only because he is her child and shoulders all the blame onto himself.

"Those stripped of the Grace of Gold shall all meet death" is LITERALLY their motto. Do you really think they stopped at the Hornsent? They were just their main target, but judging by the way all of Messmer's soldiers, including Queelign and the other Fire Knights, and even HE HIMSELF, attack us on sight for the simple fact we are Tarnished and lack Grace in our eyes, I have no doubt in my mind these people were just rounding up and killing anyone who didn't conform with the Golden Order.

THESE are the people who should be allowed to play judge, jury and executioner with the entire Hornsent race. And people will genuinely, with a straight face, tell you "That's right".

-

To conclude... I think I actually hate reasoning 2 more than reasoning 1 lol, despite not liking either at all. At least 1 is understandable. Marika is a very interesting character, one that we have known for a few years now. We have an attachment to her, heck, sentiments of her being some sort of misunderstood/rebellious figure were already there before the DLC. In that regard, I understand the emotional response, even though I still think it's a wrong mindset to have. I have at least some hope that it is purely in the realm of fiction because it's a beloved character, nothing more...

Reasoning 2, on the other hand, attempts to be nuanced, or at least pretends to be. In reality, all it peddles is the "an eye for an eye" mentality which is much too common irl as well. Not only that, but it deals in monoliths. All people belonging to a group or race are equally responsible for stuff they didn't even commit, stuff that could have even harmed them, because their leaders decided to commit crimes against another set of people. And don't get me wrong, there will be even commoners from that group or race that will agree with and celebrate that bad deed, but just as many will not, but will be either scared, powerless, already being punished for speaking up through physical violence or elaborate shunning, or currently protesting and doing something to hopefully ignite a change.

But that reasoning only exists to perpetuate cycles; of war, violence, and hate for the most part. And sadly, this mindset is very prevalent, a lot of people fail to see the issue with wanton violence as long as it's to stroke that lust for vengeance. And vengeance is a theme that Elden Ring criticizes multiple times in a row, even beyond the obvious horror of the Crusade.

[owosa]

Ex Bishops & Caretakers

Once brought back to life and integrated into the cult, those who were once deities themselves have been reduced to mere mortals condemned to immortality. At their side, a caretaker in charge of keeping them in line, helping with their integration and, perhaps, a punishment in itself.

Hey, now there's the complete collection! I have plans for a comic that includes all of them, so I needed a reference of their looks.

I'll add a bit of info about them below.

**You can find info about Leshy, Heket and Narinder here.

The new additions, Kallamar & Shamura, "The Unwanted".

Kallamar causes a particular disdain in the False Prophet, so going to find him was not a priority until it became inevitable. The confrontation and recruitment of him did not improve that impression, really. He was assigned the clown suit to lower his ego and to work in the refineries. Choosing who would be in charge of him was the easiest, considering that the squid arrived directly to the infirmary.

Shamura is a very special case. There are two reasons why they weren't annihilated once they touch the cult's ground: their lack of memory and their siblings. The False Prophet didn't do much more than give them the golden skull necklace and left the rest to whoever wanted to take charge. It's hard to get a clear idea of what the leader really feels about the spider, but their silence and how they ignore their existence is something the cult tends to share in solidarity.

Camellia was assigned to take care of Leshy as a "guide cat." Prior to this, the False Prophet had had some problems with him since he was a somewhat violent drunk, so in part, this mission was his rehabilitation. Able to confront the worm's aggressiveness and keep his spirits high, they ended up having a good relationship where they were usually seen laughing while tending to the gardens and the harvest. His grave always has fresh flowers.

Mushu was assigned as Heket's interpreter, since she was the only one who was not intimidated by her and could understand her easily. Cordial and friendly, her personality allowed their relationship, although somewhat difficult at first, to end up being harmonious. Something similar to a shadow, the mushroom girl was there at all times to help the frog communicate. Thanks to her work, the cult learned approach the former bishop and future generations were teach how to understand and communicate with her.

Crystal, the head nurse at the time, was in charge of keeping the temperamental former bishop in line, with permission to use force if necessary. Hurt ego and justified fear aside, she was the only one who showed him sympathy apart from his siblings, so it wasn't strange to see Kallamar wandering around the infirmary even when she allowed him some freedom. Crystals decorate the infirmary to this day.

Aracnia was the only volunteer to help Shamura at the time, since despite their siblings' wishes, the ex bishops weren't able care for them all the time due to their own obligations in the cult. The False Prophet accepted his wish for what it was, simply wanting to help someone in need, so they provided him with whatever he wanted for this task. After his death, it's not strange to see some followers and even disciples take care of the spider on their own. The leader just remains silent.

**Info about the Lamb with Narinder here.

+ Bonus because I wanted to have a clear reference of all the clothes they have in game and yeah, I did an edit of the lamb with the closed outfit in game that I could use.

[pers1st]

let down - leah williamson x reader

pairing: barca!reader x leah williamson

warnings: barça being broke

In truth, you shouldn't be nervous.

This conversation had been going on for months - it was no secret that Barça had many financial problems, and paying you, Alexia and Aitana as their midfield would always have been difficult. You had had countless conversations like these before - negotiating your new contract, negotiating your new wage, which you knew would be significantly lower. It didn't bother you, though. You would've picked up a second job if it meant playing for your childhood club, even if they refused to pay you.

This setting, however, seemed a lot more official than it should've, in your opinion.

You were still dressed in your clothes from training, and so was Jona, but the rest of Barça's management was dressed properly - in suits and leather shoes. They shouldn't have even been there yet. This conversation was meant to simply verbalize your new contract, not to sign it yet. You were in no conditions to take the usual photos and sit in front of the camera for an interview after the contract extension. It confused you.

"Y/N, we are so sorry."

That was how Jona started, and in that particular moment, your heart stopped. No, this couldn't- they wouldn't dare-

"We can't renew your contract."

Silence followed. Then, your shaky voice. Barely above a whisper.

"What?"

This whole situation seemed too surreal to be true. Maybe in a few seconds, your eyes would open and you would find out that this was just a horrible dream. If it hadn't been for your manager's piercing gaze on you, you might've pinched yourself under the table.

"We don't have the financial means to pay you enough to stay. I know it's not what you want to hear, but-"

"No, Jona, we talked about this. You can cut my wage, I don't mind. I'll stay here, whatever it takes. Alexia said she would-"

But the man in front of you didn't let you finish.

"You are right, we talked about this. And I told you that you deserve more than what we can give you, and that you cannot let us undermine you. It's not fair to you, it's not fair to all the women who are-"

This time, you were the one to interrupt him.

"But this? This isn't fair to me!"

That was how the argument unfolded, and only after your voice was hoarse from crying and pleading, your cheeks stained with tears and your manager stained with guilt, did you leave the office to fall into Alexia's arms, who had been listening in from the other side of the door for God knew how long.

It was January currently, which meant that as soon as you silently agreed with them to sign you to whatever club payed the most, you were out.

Just like that, the chance to play in front of the Culers for one last time was ripped away from you. They received a half-hearted announcement via Instagram, you received twenty women in your apartment, ready to pack your things. In all honesty, you had wished for no one to see as you organized your life into moving boxes and shipped them over the sea for whoever from Arsenal to receive, mostly because it would've felt even less real. Mostly because then, the goodbye wouldn't have hit you as hard. Ona tried to offer you advice on how to get by in England, telling you all about her experience abroad. Mapi tried to lift the spirits by joking around. Ingrid held you as you allowed tears to fall, and Alexia made sure you didn't forget anything, offering to take care of the things you would leave behind in Barcelona.

It was only you and Alexia at the airport. Your best friend, since the day you had been selected to play for the senior team of Barcelona, had shared many angry words with the management, and at one point even threatened to leave if you really had to. But the papers were signed, and the boxes were packed, and there was nothing left to do for Alexia besides holding your shaky frame as tears clouded your vision for what felt like the millionth time.

"You'll be okay, bebita. You'll enjoy London, and then you'll come back. I promise, you'll come back."

The both of you knew that there was no way she could ever promise that - Barça's financial difficulties were far too severe to sign you back soon - the most expensive player in the world, currently. When, or if the smoke would clear up, neither of you could know. Still, her words soothed you the tiniest as you held onto the glimpse of hope your best friend gave you as if it was a lifeline.

"Enjoy London, okay?"

You nodded, although you knew that you wouldn't. What good was London compared to Barcelona? What good was the capital of England compared to your lifelong home?

"Vamos, carino", Alexia huffed as she let go of you, gently pushing you towards your gate.

"Call me, okay? ¡Te amo!", she yelled after you as you turned away from her, and the hurt in her voice made a new layer of tears stream down on your cheeks, but you knew that if you looked back at her now, you would never board that plane. If leaving to England was what it took for your club to keep functioning, you would. If playing for Arsenal meant that you would be back in blaugrana one day, you would wear that ugly red shirt and call yourself a Gunner. You wouldn't do it happily, though.

London looked ugly when you flew over it, and London looked ugly when you landed in Heathrow Airport. You had expected people from the club to be there to pick you up, wearing Arsenal clothes and a sign with your name on it. It was apparently standard procedure, as Alexia had told you, though neither of you could really know because neither of you had never left the country to play football if it wasn't with the Spanish national team. What you hadn't expected, however, was Laia waving at you excitedly from across the hall, with two women dressed in the same hoodie as her, one significantly smaller (you guessed she was Kim) and one Leah Williamson.

You had never followed English football much, likely why you hadn't recognized Kim when you'd first searched up your new team on the internet, but Leah was the kind of footballer everyone was just.. aware of.

Admittedly, she was even prettier in real life.

"¡Hola, guapa!", Laia shrieked as you strolled over to your new teammates (the word 'teammate' along with 'new' still left a bitter taste in your mouth), dragging your suitcase behind you tiredly. The plain ride had worn you out - in all honesty, the entire past week had worn you out. Ever since you'd been told that you would leave the club that you had bled for, you hadn't been able to close half an eye.

Still, Laia's excitement was unmatched as she pulled you into a tight hug, allowing your face to sag against her shoulder. You didn't allow yourself to cry anymore, and so you could see Leah and Kim smile at you softly from a few steps behind the other Spanish woman without tears clouding your vision.

Laia continued to speak in Spanish, asking you about the flight, about how the Barça girls were, about how excited she was that you were finally here and she wasn't the only Spaniard at the Arsenal.

If Kim and Leah thought it was rude that they were left out of the conversation entirely, they didn't say so. Still, you pushed Laia off gently, mustering the smallest of smiles you could.

"Hello."

Your English wasn't very good, but even you winced ever so slightly at the realization of how truly cold you sounded. You didn't want to be here, didn't want any of them to show you your new apartment, didn't want them to show you the club, to bring you to training, to give you a red jersey and call you a Gunner.

But you needed to suck it up. Life wasn't fair. And if Alexia's words held any truth, this would merely be a temporal situation.

"Hey", Kim smiled at you. Her English sounded funny, but her smile was more genuine than yours as she introduced herself and Leah. You hadn't needed her to, but it was a nice gesture anyways.

"It's good to have you here", Leah smiled as she gently lay her arm across your shoulder.

"Wanna see your new flat?", you nodded as Leah guided you out of the hall, your luggage left with Laia who strolled behind you alongside Kim.

Leah's confidence and her proximity to you, your side pressed against hers, was making your head spin ever so slightly. You had, admittedly, hoped that Leah, as co-captain and being about to return to the pitch, would understand how badly you didn't want to be at Arsenal, seeing as she bled for the club the way you did for Barcelona. Maybe she could grasp the idea of being forced out of her home, and sympathize with you in the slightest. And it seemed she did, as she pointed towards what you guessed was Kim's car, leaving you and Laia in the backseats as you drove through the city. London was different from Barcelona.

It was slightly less ugly now, with impressive buildings and a few bits of nature sprawled around as Kim maneuvered the car through the streets. It was cold, though, and as you were shivering slightly, Kim put the heat just a bit higher. It was grey, as well. Not a single ray of sunshine was able to break through the barrier of clouds in the sky, and it reminded you a lot of your current mood, though you were hesitant to show it.

Leah and Kim seemed genuine in their efforts to make this transition as easy for you as possible, given the fact that your apprehension to leave Barcelona was a very well known fact. You had dedicated an Instagram post with a very heartfelt caption to your departure, which made it very clear that you did not leave on your own accord.

Their dedication to welcome you, though, made you feel the tiniest bit of unfair. The women were genuinely trying, and they promised you during the car ride, when asking whether or not you were nervous, that the whole team was excited to meet you. Maybe you could try a little bit. Maybe you could enjoy this for the time being.

"Here we are."

You could see Kim's smile through the rearview mirror as she parked her car in front of an old building which you guessed was your new apartment complex. The car had left the central of London around twenty minutes ago, and at your confused expression, Laia had huffed that the club was in North London, not Central London.

"¿Es un poco feo, no?", (It's a bit ugly) you asked Laia as you stared at the shabby building. The walls were grey, and the parking lot was grey, and it seemed like everything in London was just.. grey. Plain.

"¡No, Y/N! Leah vida aquí también", (Leah lives here too) Laia huffed at your comment, shaking her head while chuckling at your statement. You shrugged, ignoring the way Leah and Kim furrowed their brows at your Spanish conversation while climbing out of your seat to retrieve your luggage.

You insisted on carrying your suitcase up the small flight of stairs as well, though Laia offered to do it for you. The two of you hadn't been super close when she'd still played at Barcelona, but you had been quite good friends, and having at least one familiar face soothed you.

"This is it", Leah smiled softly as the four of you stepped into the hallway, following your curious steps into the flat. It was plain as well, of course it was. For the first time since calming down on the plane, you had to fight tears again. The flat was nice, sure. The club had organized a quite spacious place, with lots of room and comfortable-looking furniture. But it was bare. You knew that shopping for furniture would be a hassle in the middle of the season, so you had rented it furnitured.

You missed your green couch, the thrifted, quite antique sideboard, the golden-framed mirror. You missed the framed shirts on your wall, the clothing rack with all of the shirts you had swapped with other players. All of those things were now packed away in a storage room somewhere in Barcelona. You missed Barcelona.

"Es pretty", you mumbled, dropping your keys on the white coffee table and turning around to look at Leah, who was still holding on to your large bag, the Barcelona badge imprinted on it. The look she gave you, eyebrows slightly raised, eyes looking somewhat defeated, told you that you hadn't been able to fool her.

Laia and Kim left quickly, with the excuse of having early training tomorrow and needing to run whatever errands, but Leah stayed.

"I live in the same building, so I could help you unpack if you want?"

In truth, you didn't want her to help. You didn't want her to swoop through your things, eyeing all of your personal belongings, all of the tokens of your previous home that you had left so promptly, but you didn't have the heart to tell her no. So, the two of you got to work, after a small tour through the whole unit, finding the bedroom, the bathroom and another room that you guessed you would use for storage. Your kitchen was small, after all, and it was filled with things you didn't know how to use.

"What's this?", you asked as you held up a scoop of some sort, that you had found while rummaging through your cupboards.

"It's a tea scoop, for making loose tea", Leah explained with a chuckle, taking the utensil from your hand to showcase how one scoops.

"I don't drink tea", you huffed, taking the scoop back and shoving it into the back of the cupboard before closing it a little harsher than you would have expected.

"You're in England now, you're gonna drink tea."

You decided to ignore her comment, instead opening the next drawer.

"I have a microwave", you pointed out, moving slightly to the side so that Leah could look. She was awfully close to you again, and it made you nervous.

"So you can make paellas", Leah snickered, nudging her hips against yours playfully. At that, you turned towards her, taking a shocked step back.

"Joder, you don't microwave paellas! What is wrong with you? Mujer loca", (crazy woman) you exclaimed, nudging her back playfully before diving into the next cupboard. Maybe London wouldn't be as horrible as you thought.

notes: this is baaaaad honestly but we move

[tadpolesonalgae]

Taken Care Of[*]

Rhysand x reader

Synopsis: Rhys puts a lot of himself into his citizens, in more ways than one, but sometimes he needs that care put back into him. And he knows exactly where to go when he’s been worn down to the bone. 

a/n: for the anon <3 who sent in the request for more rimming that I read at about 6 o’clock in the morning before the sun was even fully up

warnings: kind of sub Rhys?, Oral (m receiving), slight bdsm themes, shadows, rimming, implied overstimulation

word count: 1,912

——————————————————————————————————————————————

He’s cold, tired, and feeling emptier than usual.

His skin is numb, fatigue that goes beyond physical depletion making his body feel heavier than normal, so cold and dark that even the twinkling lights of Rita’s do nothing to cheer his spirits, forcing himself to muster up a more pleasant demeanour before entering so as to not ruin the mood of the night. 

Violet eyes keenly scan the large interior, instantly locking on to the figure he’s searching for, her familiar silhouette catching his attention as he makes a beeline for where she’s sat. 

It’s not a relationship he knows how to name, despite the years he’s been familiar with her. At it’s foundation he supposes it’s relatively amicable, though he doesn’t feel he sees her enough to call her a friend. She’s someone he can go to, though, in times like these. She’s familiar—he supposes that’s the closest he’ll get to what it is, tonight. 

Besides, she’s noticed he’s here now, and from the gleam in her eyes, it’s clear she’s figured out what he would like, and a kernel of light seeps back into him. 

————

“I thought you might be visiting me sometime soon, Rhys,” you tease, arm linked with his own to keep warm on the way back to your home. “Do you have anything in mind for tonight, or can I have free reign?”

“Do whatever you like,” he replies quietly, and your smile broadens into a grin as you trace the lines of fatigue on his handsome face. 

“I’ll make sure you like it, too,” you reply, equally quiet, mischief gleaming in your eyes as you push up onto your tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his jaw before unlocking your door. “Just leave it all to me tonight.” 

————

“I really don’t think I can do another one,” Rhys manages, his lids feeling so heavy he feels he might fall asleep if he doesn’t keep them open. But your lips are stretching into a grin, and he feels his body react accordingly, as if trained to recognise your presence. “We both know you can go for longer,” you reply, settling between his legs on the four-poster bed, hand gripping one of his ankles.

Rhys feels his cheeks warm as your lips graze over the joint, pressing a kiss to the inside of his calf, thumb swiping over his skin. He’s not used to being on the receiving end of this attention, this kind of worship. It’s usually him who’s kissing up the inside of a female’s legs, putting his pleasure into her body—not having it plied into him. 

It is nice, though. 

Taking a break from being the dominant one. 

He doesn’t realise his eyes have fallen shut, head tipped back into the full pillow to sink into the feeling of your lips gradually making their way up his leg until you’ve lightly nipped at the inside of his thigh, his eyes peeking open enough to glare at you. Your lips curve in reply, and that unfair heat again warms his cheeks, wanting to be more present so he can remember these feelings he so rarely allows himself. 

“Ready for another?” You ask, and even if he wasn’t watching you he would be able to hear the grin on your wicked mouth. Rhys groans, eyes sliding shut briefly, “do I get a choice?” Your laugh tingles down his spine, wrapping around him and he shivers. “Of course you do,” you smile, making your way further up his body until one hand is beside his ribs, the other beside his head. Violet wearily peeks open, and your fight against the urge to claim his mouth, to kiss and nip at his throat, pressing ticklish pecks to his shoulders and chest, to lick and flick over his nipples while letting your palm to splay across the lovely muscle of his stomach, fingers tracing every dip and curve. 

“Make your choice,” you murmur, doing nothing to hide the tentative hunger in your expression. “Direct me, or let yourself relax.” 

Rhys sighs, eyes sliding shut briefly before slowly running the calloused skin of his palms up over your arms, settling over the roundness of your shoulders. “I said I’d let you have free reign, didn’t I?” 

Your lips curve, eyes glinting with intensifying hunger. “Just checking you aren’t regretting your choice,” you whisper over his lips, before slanting your mouth against his own, letting him taste that faint flavour of release he’s left on your tongue. Rhys hums contentedly, the noise sounding rough and heavy in his throat. 

You pull away, slowly kissing down his neck, and chest, and stomach, fingertips gliding over the tops of his thighs before slipping beneath his knee, encouraging them to bend as your mouth lowers further. He’s hard enough his cock is laying flat against his stomach, and he sighs as you lick up the underside of him, suckling at a space just below his head, your breasts pressing fully between his legs, providing a lovely softness to grind against. 

“You’re wicked,” he mumbles quietly, eyes having fluttered shut when you trailed down his torso, content to let you do as you please while he lays back on your bed. He shivers when you laugh softly before taking him into your mouth, feeling the hot wetness of your lips, then your tongue as it swipes over his slit, fingers wrapping around his base, squeezing gently while you kiss all over him. “And that’s why you sought me out tonight,” you murmur, allowing spit to pool in your mouth, allowing it to spill from the tip of your tongue down onto him before taking him down your throat. Entirely. 

Slowly, teasingly, you pull back up, relishing in the arch of his back, the way his fingers have curled somewhat, head having fallen to one side. “Because I’m wicked,” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear, hot breath brushing against his cock, sensitive to air from the saliva coating him. 

“Move your legs wider,” you instruct, gently pushing either side of his inner thighs, guiding them a little further apart so you can settle more comfortably. 

“You know, Rhys,” you begin lowly, hand wrapping fully around his cock, lazily swiping your thumb over his head, smearing the small bead of moisture that had gathered there along his length. “If you like this so much, you should do it more often. Allow yourself to have it.” 

“I’m allowing myself to have it right now, aren’t I?” He replies, somewhat lazily, and your tongue flicks out over your lips. “And wouldn’t it be nice to have it more often?” You drawl, mouth pressing to the underside of his base, licking against him as your hand continues pumping him, slowly. Easing his pleasure out an ounce at a time. “You give so much of yourself to looking after your court…wouldn’t it be nice to let yourself accept this kind of attention more often?” 

“I do,” he counters, making your lips curve. 

“Don’t you get tired though, of always being the one attending to your partner? Being the one to go down on the other? Being the one doing the things to them?” You muse, nipping at his inner thigh, again guiding him further apart. “Isn’t it lovely to have someone wanting to do awful things to you, instead of the other way around?” You ask mirthfully, hunger running beneath your tone as you kiss lower down his thigh, closer between his legs. “Isn’t it nice being subject to someone else’s sexual pleasures? To be their satisfaction?”

“Do you expect my mind to be focused enough to reply right now?” He asks breathlessly, the question dragging from deep in his throat, sounding rough and gravelly. 

“I’m just saying I think you deserve someone who matches your hunger, Rhys, but for some reason you keep denying yourself that. Wouldn’t it be good to have someone love the way you love? To do the things to you, that you need to do to them?” 

“I have you, don’t I?” He groans, panting lightly from the grip you have on him, the pleasure you’re building up within his body. A wicked grin splits your lips, one he can feel as you graze them again over the base of his cock.

“Now you’re getting somewhere,” you murmur, spotting the darkness that’s begun to appear in your bed with you, creeping up and over his body. Twining tentatively over his forearms, his own magic instinctively knowing what he wants. 

Rhys’s hands curl into fists as you dip between his thighs, tongue flicking against that tight ring of muscle while your hand pumps his length, with him inhaling sharply as his eyes fly open, cock twitching with pleasure. His magic binds him and at first he blinks, wondering where it manifested from, wondering why it’s carefully holding him down, but his thoughts are liquefied into an arousing mess when you repeat the motion, pressing closer between his legs and he doesn’t have the time to bite down on the moan that drags from his chest. 

You’re pleased when you feel the High Lord sink back into your bed, allowing his shadowy magic to move as it pleases, further wrapping around his forearms and slinking up his calves, binding comfortably around them so you can work better. Shadows working with you to deliver pleasure to your High Lord.

Rhys’ throat rolls heavily as he tentatively settles into this new experience, panting raggedly as you keep up with that torturous pace, keeping your strokes firm but leisurely, tongue circling him in a way that has the pleasure building, precum drizzling from his tip as heat swarms his body. He can feel the sweat on his skin, can hear the rough edge to his breaths, the tight coil of his muscle as tension only builds without release. 

How many had you already put him through before this? Five? Six? He can’t think clearly enough to remember, but he can feel the sensitivity in his cock and knows it’s a lot. And knows that you’ll probably be putting him through more before the night is over, if you’ve only now introduced this new…facet, into your coupling. 

It doesn’t take long for him to fall into that writhing tempest of oceanic arousal, the overstimulation having his body tense as the waves crash through him, cock aching as he spills onto his stomach, some of it dripping down his length as your hand continues dragging it out, refusing to relent until the last drop of pleasure has emptied from him. 

“How long…how long have you been waiting to do that?” He manages to ask, still breathless, mind so hazy he’s struggling to remember words. Is this how he’s made so many other people feel?

You smile, and he exhales sharply as his cock twitches at the sultry curve of your wicked mouth. 

“A while,” you answer, beginning to prowl back up his body, lapping at the cum he’s spilled on himself as you go, dragging your tongue through the small pool of erotic liquid, practically able to drink it up from how much he released. The soft slurping sounds have him hardening again, arousal gathering despite how intense he felt the last orgasm was. 

“Did you like it?” You drawl, crawling up his body, knees pressing into the mattress either side his hips. 

Colour flushes his tan skin but he doesn’t avert his gaze. “Surprisingly much.” 

——————————————————————————————————————————————

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria @nighttimemoonlover

rhys taglist: @azrielshadows1nger

[heartswithinreach]

Hello! I wanted to say I love your writing and super eager for more! That said, I was recently diagnosed with cancer and was wondering how the lads would react to an MC who was diagnosed with it or something similar? If that's too dark, I'm sorry!

Thank you and I hope your day is great! :)

a/n: i am so sorry anon, i hope you're taking care of yourself and that this can bring you some comfort 💖💖🫂everyone wish anon well!!

LaDS when MC has a cancer diagnosis

Xavier

After a few moments of silence, he accepts the reality of your diagnosis and begins making plans on how to make your life easier. Whatever you need, he'll do it, no questions asked.

For your sake, Xavier is as calm and steadfast as ever. He wants you to continue living life as normally as possible. He'll do subtle, thoughtful things just to remind you how important you are to him and that he’ll always love you, no matter what comes.

With Jenna and your team's full support, you and Xavier both take a leave of absence from duty so Xavier can take care of you during your treatment.

Tara takes the lead in organizing visits and dividing chores they can do so you can rest with nothing to worry about. She spends almost as much time with you as Xavier does and he’s immensely grateful so many support you both.

Xavier listens to your worries and fears. Say what you feel, he's here to shoulder it with you without judgment.

Rafayel

His first reaction is anger — not at you, but at this horrible situation.

No one deserves this and he's so frustrated he can't just make this go away with the money or influence he has. What is it all for if he can't take care of you?

But this isn't about him. Rafayel might not be the most natural caretaker but your bond is forever. He won't just abandon you now.

He can't sleep that night after you tell him so he works till dawn converting a spare room into your home away from home. Being near the sea can help improve your health, right? Well, maybe you should stay with him for while, then!

Rafayel, despite what he may think, is actually a pretty good nurse, fussing over you and making you feel special while keeping your spirits high. He is so attuned to you and your needs, it’s as easy as breathing.

Zayne

As your physician, he saw the signs early on but quickly passed your case on to someone more qualified than him. He couldn't allow his feelings to get in the way of getting you the best possible care.

Zayne is there at every meeting, every check up, every treatment. He didn't expect it to be so difficult from getting too involved but he knows he would be nothing but a hinderance to the team treating you.

So he puts his faith in the capable staff of Akso Hospital while he dedicates himself to your emotional and mental health. He only goes into the hospital a few times a week for his more urgent patients, otherwise, he’s at home with you.

Zayne becomes so considerate and gentle, you'll wonder how you ever thought he was cold. Through it all, he will be your rock.

You need him, now more than ever, and Zayne takes that more seriously than ever oath he’s ever made.

Sylus

Mephisto is never far away so when you’re walking home after getting the news, you’re not very surprised to see Sylus waiting in a dark alley by your apartment. He will pull you into his embrace without a word and hold you together as you fall apart.

Sylus wants to know how you want to proceed and then he wants you to give him permission to make it a reality. He’s always silently hoping you’ll use his resources but now he’s almost pleading.

He keeps some sense of normalcy by continuing to tease and antagonize you, though now more gently than before and only if it’ll get you to smile.

Sylus wishes you could stay with him in the N109 Zone but he knows it’s impossible. You could never get the proper treatment there and he can’t leave his domain for too long. But the twins and Mephisto can do everything he cannot and that brings him some solace.

In time, you and Mephisto become closer until he has a nest in your room and you wake up every morning to something new and shiny on your windowsill to cheer you up. Having even just an extension of Sylus with you until the man himself comes to visit you at night is more comforting than you ever imagined.

[dokidokitsuna]

The Diary of Penny Polendina

The other day I was inspired to try working on a different NeverFell Projects installment, one that would probably be a lot shorter and quicker to write, because it's not like I care that deeply about Penny, right??

Well, I was incredibly wrong. ^^; So wrong that I'm actually having trouble with this story now...essentially, Penny goes through a bit of a 'rebellious phase' (gross oversimplification, but that's all you get for now) and there are, surprisingly, a lot of aspects of that character arc that I want to explore. Plus, a pivotal connection with Pyrrha, the climax of which I haven't quite figured out yet...

God only knows if I'll be able to finish, or if I'll just write the first 2/3rds of the story and leave it at that. But I figured I might as well warm up by talking about the designs. ^^

Penny's new look is basically 'Disney's Pinocchio, color picked from Arthur Watts' character design'~

I didn't necessarily want her to look evil, just...bolder. Like she specifically picked 'daring' items that maybe her father or Ironwood's PR team would rather she didn't wear, at least not compared to the more innocent frilly pastels she had on before. Between the chest window, midriff, and short sleeves, she's actually showing a lot more skin than before, despite still being 90% covered up. ^^;

Those multicolored wrist accessories are prototype weapons invented by Dr. Watts, that mix and pressurize Dust from the cartridges to cast "artificial magic". This way I get to do a bit of the 'Winter Maiden Penny' stuff in this Vol. 3-locked AU~

Penny's magic usage is one of the things that stumped me when writing this story...In NeverFell, magic isn't just glowy rainbow lasers or weather powers-- it essentially allows the user access to any conceivable semblance at any time; its potential is limitless. Being a beginner, Penny would probably just come up with one signature 'spell' to use in tandem with her Floating Array...but I can't decide what I want her to do. ^^; I think I'd like for her to do something connected to dance, because I feel like that's something unique to her, the way she dances with her weapons before striking. Nobody ever points out how the "robot" in the cast is the one who chooses to spend energy on unnecessary movements that aren't even used to maneuver around an enemy; they're just cute and fun. ^^ I think that's a great encapsulation of who Penny is~

Redesigning Pyrrha is always super difficult, because her original design is so perfect. But I like this end result a LOT. ^^ I may need to adjust the pant legs a bit, but overall it feels like a very believable alt outfit that keeps the spirit of the character.

Pyrrha is another one of the stumbling blocks in this story, because I'm now forced to create at least one malleable personality trait for her-- i.e. one that isn't intrinsically tied to Jaune and/or the plot. Something that she could actually take into a meaningful relationship with a different character... I had the idea to expand her "I'm sorry!" gag into a real guilt complex, where she has trouble letting go of instances where she's made mistakes or hurt someone. In this case, dismembering Penny 1.0 and essentially ending her life. :T She seeks out 2.0 in a desperate effort to make things right, and ends up helping her with ...things, and growing as people or whatever, and all that other stuff I have yet to write. ^^;

I just realized that Pyrrha could use her polarity semblance to pull Penny towards her in a situation where they need to reach each other...that's so cute. ^^ I gotta remember that~

[kiame-sama]

How do you think the characters react to mc having their period in the monster au. Cause it would make sense for other monster species to have them as well, but it could end up being a "human" thing to them. Like how would the love interests and the staff react. I imagine Malleus panicking the moment he smells blood on his human.

(More lovely fan-art~ Credit to the wonderful @tinseltina for drawing up Mr. Handsome Leona)

Humans are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) 9.5

Something tells me y'all really want to know the answer to this.

Warnings; not proofread (my stuff rarely is, but this is hot off the press), menstrual cycle and all that comes with it (mood swings, blood, cramps, ect), female pronouned reader, not too big on plot but several moments for the fellas, the stressed Dragon is trying his best, use of Japanese words (Nii-san, nee-san, Oji-san), Dragon, Crow, Harpy, Shinigami, Nemean Lion, Gnoll, Shadow-men, Cervitaur, Genie, Unicorn, Cecaelia, Vampire Bat,

~~~~~~~~

It was officially your eighth day in Twisted Wonderland and it was finally time for Diasomnia to take a step back and allow the other dorms to guard you. According to the raffle, it was to be Ignihyde's turn next. Both Idia and Ortho had shown up to the early morning meeting, Ortho still somewhat asleep as he sat leaning up against Idia's arm.

The other Housewardens were present and they had even remembered to invite Malleus this time as there was no other way the Dragon would give up his Human. Both Shinigami were anxious for different yet similar reasons as they waited for the inevitable arrival of the Dragon. Only problem was that Malleus showed up without the Human.

"What is the meaning of this, Malleus? Where is she?"

Vil was first to voice his concerns, one of the few among the Housewardens who would willingly snap at the dour prince. Malleus simply stared at the Harpy even as he squawked and fluffed his feathers in irritation. Of course, they all wanted to hear whatever explanation the Dragon was going to give for this clear violation of the rules they had set regarding soft (Y/n).

"I don't recall ever agreeing to this nonsense of trading my hoard among others, but if you must know, (Y/n) is currently unwell and I have no intention to leave any member of my hoard while they are in such a state."

"Unwell? How is she unwell? She was fine yesterday, if a bit temperamental."

Crowley was displeased by Malleus' refusal to bring the Human they all felt increasing fondness for, but he was more displeased to hear she was ill in some way. In fact, the news unsettled everyone at the table, Idia and Ortho included. They were all keen to keep (Y/n) in high spirits especially with news that there would be several representatives from various countries making surprise visits to check on her well-being.

"She is bleeding but insists it is normal for Humans. The scent of blood alerted me to her state as she rose before the rest of us and I found her in her bathroom crying. She refuses to leave her bathroom until she is able to aquire 'pads' to catch the blood and commented something about 'tampons'. I know not what these 'pads' and 'tampons' are, but even Lilia insists it is something Humans do on a monthly basis and warned me to not push her on this matter."

"If that Mousey is bleeding," Leona growled, "then she must be injured in some way."

"That was my thinking, but Lilia said I was wrong and that he would explain it later before he insisted I attend this meeting instead."

"What exactly has Lilia told you about (Y/n)'s condition?"

~•§•~

"I hate everything and everyone."

You grumbled as you lay curled up on a towel in your bathtub, holding your bloated stomach as you whined loudly when another cramp gripped you. The dull throbbing ache in your back made you want to throw something if it meant the discomfort would end. Your arm had healed quickly- still somewhat mending, but now useable- only for your period to smack you while you were down.

Of course these useless monsters didn't have pads or tampons or Midol and now you relegated yourself to laying on a towel so you don't bleed all over the shared nest. If you could have things your way, you would have as many sanitary products as you wished and you would be laying on Silver's back as the Reindeer was so comfortingly warm. It only made you angrier to remember that there were no heating-pads in this forsaken land.

"(Y/n)?"

"Let me die."

"Please don't talk that way, (Y/n). None of us want you to die."

"Then why aren't there any heating-pads or pain-meds, Lilia? Sounds like you all want me to suffer and die."

"(Y/n)-"

"Leave me to suffer."

"(Y/n)-"

"Go away, Lilia!"

The Bat sighed and closed the door, letting you wallow and whine in pain. He had been around Humans enough to vaguely remember what was wrong, but it had been a long time since he last had to deal with such a situation. Lilia didn't exactly remember the how and the why of your condition, just that it was normal for Humans. No, if anyone knew what was happening, it was you and you were not keen to share your wisdom.

While you were wallowing in self-pity you felt your stomach begin to growl and you just started crying again. None of these moron monsters knew how to cook and you just wanted a nice breakfast to soothe your upset body even if for only a bit. Somewhere during your tears the door to the bathroom had opened again and a delicious smell met your nose.

Walking into the room was the man wreathed in shadows, he set a cloth bag down next to the tub where you lay and stood for a moment watching you. You somewhat recognized him as one of the staff members Crowley had introduced you to the first day- you think his name was Sam- and even in the daylight he looked like liquid darkness. Apparently he was the only one who had a store on campus and he was the one to go to for any and all needs.

"Breakfast is ready downstairs, little Imp."

With that he left the bathroom and closed the door behind him, leaving you to examine what he brought. Inside the bag was a note and several items you thought you would never see in this forsaken world. What looked to be reusable cloth pads took up a good portion of the bag, clearly the kind that could be buttoned and wrapped around undergarments to act like your world's traditional sticky pads. Further down were what seemed to be several small bottles filled with star-shaped pills in various purples, oranges, pinks, and yellows. What almost made you start crying again was the sweet and heartbreakingly beautiful appearance of chocolate fudge in a medium sized tin.

That first bit of fudge melted on your tongue and brought the sugary sweetness of chocolate to your senses. It was like a slice of heaven had fallen into your mouth and you could hardly believe it.

The pads were similar to the disposable ones you had back in your world but with a button clasp along the wing of the pad so it could be secured. You were quick to change your clothes with the extra Lilia had brought you, securing the pad to your underwear and sighing in relief once it all was in place. Though you would have to wash these pads after you switched them out, it was better than nothing.

The note was simple and short, but you couldn't be happier to read the almost elegant script.

'Hey, little Imp. Thought you would need these, though not so soon. Unlike most in Twisted Wonderland, Shadow-folk and Humans were the few species where the child-bearing members have these bleeding cycles. My friends on the other side figured you would want some chocolate. The bottles have some bloating and pain medicine that should help. Only take one of each color twice a day. Chocolate isn't too common, but I think now is as good a time as any to share.

- Sam'

You could have cried it was so beautiful. To think there was someone here who wasn't completely oblivious to your suffering was soothing in ways you hadn't expected. If anything, Sam was now in the top spot for your favorite of the staff members, the others be damned.

As you finally got the chance to clean yourself up and wear clean clothes, you were now ready to emerge from the bathroom you spent most of the morning in. The warm smell of food brought you down to the kitchen and you saw a beautiful sight. Standing near what looked like an entire breakfast feast was Sam, he seemed to be guarding the food from the group that stood eyeing him suspiciously. Ruggie, your guards- minus Malleus- and Grim all stared at the shadow man who refused to let any near the copious amounts of food.

"Morning, little Imp! Figured you would want some breakfast given the morning you've had. Have as much as you like before I let these beasts eat the rest."

Sitting in large bowls and stacked on plates were an assortment of eggs, some kind of sweet smelling breakfast meat- as sausages weren't prevalent in Twisted Wonderland- pan-seared onions and peppers, even pancakes stacked high. It was a veritable feast for the eyes and stomach, the best part being the fact you didn't even have to make it.

"... You're my favorite, did you know that?"

"You honor me, little Imp. I know my sisters and mother would be sending me shadow curses if I didn't at least lend a hand during your time of struggle. Eat up."

You did exactly that as you gathered up a generous portion for yourself and settled at the small table in the kitchen to dig in. Once Sam saw you were happily eating your fair share, he grabbed his own plate before he moved to let the others descend on the food. Lilia was quick to join you and Sam at the small table, not at all put off by your earlier attitude towards him.

"So, Sam, do you know what's going on with (Y/n)?"

"Of course. We shadow people go through a similar process- I should say the ladies and child-bearers of the Shadow people know- I personally don't, but you can bet your ass my meemaw would whoop me something fierce if she found out I left this Human to endure alone when I could have helped."

"Guess there is no need for Malleus to be so distraught then."

You ignored the conversation and simply ate your meal, thrilled someone else knew how to cook a damn fine breakfast. Sebek, Silver, Ruggie, and Grim were content to eat at the kitchen counters instead of the small table, talking quietly to one another. Well, Ruggie and Grim were shoveling food down their gullets, Sebek and Silver were the ones talking.

It was during this conversation that you heard many footsteps thundering down the halls of your dorm to the kitchen. You gripped the fork in your hand tightly and the moment someone grabbed you was the moment you swung the fork to stab whoever dared to touch you. They were quick to let go and narrowly avoided your utensil as they backed off and you saw it was the Headmage.

"(Y/n), my poor little chick! Where are you bleeding-?"

"None of your business!"

Your voice was an angry grumble as you guarded the plate in front of you, putting an arm around it and glaring at the feathered man. He seemed confused before he looked over at Sam who had continued to eat calmly.

"Ah, I should have known you would already be on top of it, Sam. Shadow folk and Humans were two sides of a very similar coin, after all."

"Headmage, why did you bring all these students into her kitchen?"

You looked around and you saw many familiar faces as well as a few unfamiliar faces. Malleus, Vil, Ortho, Azul, Leona, and Riddle were of the familiar. Of the unfamiliar were two men of vastly different appearances. One had white hair and tanned skin, almost seeming to be shining from the inside with a bright gold. The other looked like an older, non-mechanical Ortho with extreme anxiety at even being perceived.

"Mr. Draconia informed us that (Y/n) was unwell and I couldn't keep them from coming with me to check on her-"

"Well, you all are done checking, now go away. I want to eat my breakfast in peace."

"(Y/n)-"

"No! I have had little to no personal space since the moment I fell into this madhouse of a campus and it shouldn't take me having my period to get some! If you all are really that concerned, I have a whole list of things I could only benefit from and you all are welcome to start gathering."

"... Would that make you happy?"

"It would be a start!"

It seemed all of your uninvited guests were uncomfortable as they looked at one another before the shining golden one nodded excitedly. Out of everyone, he seemed the most oblivious to your annoyance and instead seemed happy to be given something to do.

"Sure! What's on the list? I can get stuff for you! Say the word and Jamil and I are on it!"

"See? This is a model Housewarden right here. Doesn't push his own agenda, doesn't demand more information, just says 'okay' and does what is asked of him."

Vil seemed the most offended by this, but kept his thoughts to himself and instead just glared at the happy shining man. Malleus was also clearly displeased by your less than favorable attitude, moving to stand near Lilia as if that would curb your anger at the situation. Ortho seemed to be of the same mind as the first odd-ball and looked ready to run off for whatever you requested.

"Don't forget your medicine, (Y/n)."

Sam prompted gently, continuing his meal as if nothing were amis. Naturally, you had mostly forgotten the bottles of oddly colored stars in your frustration and only now remembered they were present. His note said one of each color twice a day, so you figured it was a morning and night kind of medication.

The stars were actually somewhat cute and you felt a vague temptation to sit and sort the stars by color, but your ever present cramps demanded you take them instead. They actually tasted sweet and must have had a sugar coating of some kind as they went down easily enough. Perhaps it was psychosomatic, but it felt like they were helping the moment you swallowed the odd shapes and felt far less irate even with the herd of others in your home.

"Nee-san, can I have that list you mentioned? You can send it to me via-text so Nii-san and I can get started on gathering things for you!"

"Nee-san?"

"Oh! Are we not close enough yet for me to call you that? Sorry! I just want to be your friend so much I keep forgetting we just met. Oji-san wants to meet you too since he hasn't been able to meet a living Human for a long time and he misses Humans. Would it be okay if he came over?"

It was then the one that looked like an older version of Ortho spoke, resting his hand on Ortho's shoulder.

"Ortho, stop. I get you wanna be her friend but it is so cringe to just invite people over to someone else's place when they aren't feeling well."

"Oh, I'm sorry! I just want everything to work out and Oji-san Hades has been texting non-stop about meeting (Y/n)..."

"We can talk about that later. Okay?"

You raised a single brow at the two- who you assumed to be brothers- as they had their back and forth banter. Somewhere you figured all the Housewardens in your dorm were there to help, but you were still annoyed they came over uninvited. Maybe they could be of use if you split up that growing list of yours and put the clearly eager men to work.

"If I give you all the list will you go away?"

"No," Malleus said, crossing his arms, "I must protect my hoard and if a member of my hoard is unwell, then I shall stand guard until they are well again."

"Fine. You can stay, but I just want a quiet day today. I don't have classes and I just want to sleep."

"You are always welcome to the nest."

"Wasn't asking permission, but thanks, I guess. I also want Silver to be in the nest because he's warm and it feels nice to have heat on my stomach."

"Silver has clases today, but I am free for the day. I can use my magic to warm your stomach so you can rest easy."

"Fine, but if you burn me I'm kicking you out of my dorm permanently."

[imnotjaesblog]

Dear Father For I Have Sinned

Starring: Na Jaemin (Appearances by Mark, Haechan, and Jaehyun).

Demon Jaemin x afab reader

Warnings: Smut, Demon Summoning, Dom Jaemin, Seemy dom/Sub reader, Jaemin bites the reader, Jaemin is rough with the reader, Oral F.m receiving, God & Devil are mentioned. Slight Agnst.

Words: 7k

MINORS DO NOT READ OR INTERACT!!!

First Halloween Post :)

Enjoy;)

"I don't think this is a good idea," you said from where you sat in your friend's room. You sat furthest away on the carpet from the other three. The lights were turned completely off. The only light coming from freshly lit candles around the room. The curtain by the window pulled back. The window opened a crack allowing the cool Autumn breeze to flow through. From the window, you could hear children walking up and down the street traveling door to door trick-or-treating.

Then there was you. Spending your Halloween dressed up as a mouse with the rest of your friends while your best friend Yuri was a cat. You sat farthest from her. Arms crossed over your chest as you watched the other two set up the room. Yuri set up the Ouija board. This is where you spent the start of your Halloween—just sitting and waiting for them to finish so you could go to the party.

They had ignored your protest all day. During class, your friend had the idea of purchasing an Ouija board. She spoke more about once all of you met up. The other two agreed not thinking much of the board, joking about the consequences rather than fearing them.

However, you had no intention of testing fate nor containing anything that wasn't living. Sure, you took part in Halloween. The parties, the dressing up, even watching horror films. But at the end of the day, it was all fake. And even if you didn't believe the board would work, you didn't want to take the chance.

Your friends whined at your hesitance to take part in the game.

"Girl don't worry. I did my research," she said failing to convince you. You scoffed, "That's exactly why I'm saying no," you said shaking your head. "This is just your new obsession of the week. And whether something speaks to you or not. I want no part in it, Yuri," you said. Your efforts fell when your boyfriend walked through the door with his friend.

He walked over to you confused look seeing you far away from your friends. He sat beside you. "You okay?" he asked. You brushed it off. "I'm fine," you said a bit annoyed. Since you spoke out against the game you could feel the tension between you and the girls. Definitely view you as a downer. It wouldn't be the first time they made you feel weird for not picking what they wanted to do. Maybe it was time for new friends.

"Mark convince your girlfriend to play," your friend started again teasing a smile on her lips. You huffed sending her an annoyed expression. She ignored it keeping her eyes on Mark. Mark sighed turning to you with a shrug. "It could be fun," he attempted. You rolled your eyes moving from him to sit on the edge of her bed arms over your chest.

She clicked her teeth, "Whatever," she said turning to the others. Hushering them to come closer. They complied, all placing two fingers on the planchette. You sent a warning look to Mark. He looked over from you and at Yuri. She smiled at him. He sighed before placing two fingers on it. You rolled your eyes crossing your legs over the other.

"Wendy you ask first," Yuri nudged her. Wendy's eyes widened. "What. Why me?" she asked hint of panic in her voice. Yuri huffed forcing a smile "Because out of all of us, you had the most emotional baggage so the spirit is more likely to talk to us," she said nonchalantly. Wendy gasped but wasn't shocked. Yuri spoke like this on a regular.

Wendy instead brushed off the hurtful comment. Holding back her own tears as she let out a breath. "Hello, is there anyone who would like to speak to us?" she asked looking around the room. The others watched the bored. The planchette didn't move. But it was only for a second. You had almost missed it, being that you were watching your phone. However, the unified gasp caught your attention.

You looked over seeing the planchette shift to yes. A few of them had a shocked expression on their faces. Soon turning into excited nerves. Yuri cleared her throat. "Are you a boy or a girl?" she asked. The planchette sat for a second before it spelled out man. Yuri ooed almost teasing the spirit.

"Are you hot?" she asked if the party we were attending tonight was not being held by her boyfriend. The planchette shifted spelling out ridiculously. They all chuckled, and you sneered turning away. You were sure Haechan was just moving it to be a dick.

Yuri readjusted herself. Flipping her hair back to expose more of her cleavage. Pursing her lips. Wendy went to ask the spirit another question but Yuri stopped her. "Not your turn," she snapped. Wendy closed her mouth. Karina from beside her spoke softly. "But you just went," she stated. Yuri sent her a glare. "Was I talking to you?" she asked.

"Anyways," she said shaking off her frustrations. "Spirit do you think I'm pretty?" she asked confidently sure the spirit had a thing for her. The planchette moved to no. She scoffed, Haechan taking the chance to laugh. Wendy and Karina hid their giggles. She shifted now slightly uncomfortable. "It's probably because you like said girls right?" she asked noticing Wendy covering her smile. "Pathetic girls like Wendy?" she asked.

The planchette didn't move for a second until it responded No. Then it proceeded to spell out bed. They all looked over at you. You weren't even paying attention. You didn't look over until the silence became odd to you. Feeling their eyes on you. "What?" you asked.

"Spirit has a thing for you," Haechan said. You flipped him off turning back to your phone.

"Are you evil?" Haechan asked. Everyone eyed him. He shrugged, "What we're all thinking it. What if this guy is some weird killer demon," He said quickly. The planchette began to move. Spelling out "Not weird, or a killer," he wrote. They all gasped. "He's a demon though," Karina stated. Yuri huffed, "Good job you can read," she spat at Karina. Karina put her head down.

"Well if it's a demon," you began from the bed. "Can it take Yuri?" you asked in the direction of the board. "You'd be doing us all a favor," you said with a smile. Yuri gasped, "Who do you think you're talking to right now?" she asked two fingers still remaining on the planchette. You chuckled, "You think I'm scared of you? Yuri please don't tell me you find yourself to be that interesting you think people are scared of you," you bit back a sarcastic smile on your lips.

Yuri was getting embarrassed. Her face turned bright red. The planchette moved spelling out "HAHAHA" assuming it was laughing at what you said. Wendy snickered from where she sat. Yuri went to call her out but you stopped her.

"Wendy laughed harder honestly what is the worst thing Yuri gonna do? Not be your friend?" you asked her phone resting in your hand, dangling around as you spoke. Yuri huffed slamming her free hand on the Orcale. Causing the board to shake.

"Honestly I don't know why you keep talking," she began angry manner shifting to a more mischievous feeling. She turned her body slightly to you. "Do you think I invited you here because I want to hang out with you? Or because we're friends," she scoffed out a smile exposing her top teeth. She faked and pouted at you keeping her gaze strong with you.

"I only invite you so I can see your boyfriend," she said letting out a sigh that sent a shudder down your spine. She looked over at Mark teasing a smile on her black lipstick-covered lips. "Right Mark?" she asked expecting no verbal response to confirm what you always felt to be true. Mark shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He barely looked at you. She turned back to you with a condescending smile.

You stood up from the bed ready to take them both. But before you could one after the other the candles went out. You looked down at the board. You gasped out a laugh. Yuri confused sent you a glare. "So much for your research," you pointed at her foolishness. She looked down with wide eyes. She had removed her fingers.

You saw the slight fear in her eyes. Especially when the planchette moved creating a figure eight on the board. Yuri panicked standing up away from the board. "Stop!" she shouted. "Stop it," they all let go and the planchette stopped moving. Everyone looked at one another both shocked and scared.

They all blamed Haechan for moving the planchette. But that was just to make them feel some soft comfort about the fact that deep down, they all knew they didn't move that planchette. You walked out of the room. Wendy and Karina followed behind you. They came to your side.

"Where are we going?" Karina asked taking hold of your arm. Wendy came to your other side. "Are you okay girl?" she asked making you remember the fact Mark cheated on you with Yuri. You couldn't even say you were surprised. You had seen the long stares and touches over the last couple of weeks. You just finally had the confirmation you needed.

You brushed the desperate girls off. "I'm fine," you said back. Wendy frowned. "Well we're here for you," she said with a sad smile. Karina nodded standing beside Wendy on the sidewalk. She lifted her head with a smile. "We can go to my place and watch movies," she said. Wendy looked over at her brows furrowing. "How could you watch any scary movie after that board," she said feeling the same feeling of dread appear in the pit of her stomach.

Karina nodded, "You're right. We should watch something funny instead," she suggested to both Wendy and you. You shook your head no. "I think I'll pass. Besides aren't you two supposed to be making sure Yuri is okay," You said trying to leave. Karina shook her head. Wendy scoffed. "Yuri is the worst," she said as if it was normal for her. It took you by surprise, it even took her off her balance.

"That felt good to say," she said with a proud smile. Color forms back in her cheeks. You paused for a moment. A smirk forms on your lips. You titled your head bit. "Do you two still want to go to the party?" you asked. They thought about it for a moment. They smiled but then Wendy's smile fell. "Yuri will be there," she pointed out color fading again.

"So?" you raised a brow. You stepped in between the two wide-eyed girls. "Who is she to stop us from having fun?" you asked. The two nodded coming to your side and linking arms as you made your way to Jaehyun's Halloween party. Not noticing your shadow shift from yours to a much taller figure with horns.

After a few more long blocks you reach the decorated frat house infested with drunk college students all shit-faced on the lawn. You walked up to the path leading to the door. Jaehyun had seen you from across the sea of people in the living room. He made his way to your loud smile on his lips and a red solo cup in his hands. Dressed up as poorly put together mummy.

"What's up ladies," he greeted. You had no control over the eye roll. Jaehyun was so sleazy, a perfect match for Yuri. Karina batted her eyelashes at him twirling her hair. You watched her confused. "Really?" you asked truly unsure as to why someone as beautiful as her would find him hot. She broke from her daze letting her long hair fall.

You looked back at Jaehyun. "Where's the alcohol?" you asked. Jaehyun scoffed with a smirk. He raised his brow in a way men think is cute. "Bored of me already?" he teased leaning closer to you. You could smell the bear off him like cheap cologne. You brought your hand up scrunching your nose. Creating a wall between the two of you. "Aw," he pouted. "It's okay girl," he said with a shrug. He took a sip of his drunk stumbling a bit. "I'll find you later," he winked pointing in the direction of the kitchen.

You three walked past him. He kept his stare on you, mainly on your ass.

The party was actually fun. You had spent the last hour here bumping to the music with your new reinvented trio having a good time. You took off your mouse ears while dancing. Jaehyun took this as his chance to make his way to you. He picked up the ears placing them on your head from behind.

"Guess who?" he asked. You instantly felt nauseated by the sound of his voice. You turned around to face him disgusted look on your face. He just smirks smugly standing there proud of himself. "Why did you take off the ears? They look so cute," he flirted attempting to get closer to you. You stepped back, "Ew," you couldn't help but breathe out. He didn't take the rejection and instead came closer the toilet paper around his body falling to the ground.

"Jaehyun," you tried to reason. "You have a girlfriend," you said in an attempt to get him to leave you alone. He shrugged taking a final swig of his drink. He tossed it to the side. "She's not here right now. And besides, I like you," he said leaning in to kiss you. You panicked letting your body take control. You felt your arm pull back and then forward fast. You blinked and there Jaehyun was holding his nose.

"You fucking bitch," he held his nose. A few of his guys rushed to him. A few other staring as well. The music continued to bump loudly surrounding the house. People around you continued to dance, too drunk or lost in the hot feelings to turn to the scene around them. You took this as your chance to flee.

As you quickly escaped you dropped your ears down the path to exit the frat house.

You had finally made it to your apartment. Your phone constantly buzzing with messages from Karina and Wendy. A few even coming from Mark. You let the girls know you went home. You ignored Mark's messages.

You took your shoes off feeling the start of a headache form. You rubbed your temples as you further walked into your home. You made your way to the fridge searching for a water bottle. You eventually found one pulling it out and closing the door.

You took a sip feeling a chill. You didn't think much of the sudden change of temperature being just in the fridge and then drinking the cold water. Your apartment felt colder the more you walked out of the kitchen. You shuddered at the chill seeing your breath in the air as it escaped your lips.

"When did it get so cold?" you questioned out loud. It was 70 degrees outside. Yet in your apartment, it felt below 0. It makes you pay more attention to the darkness of your home. All the lights turned off, and the apartment appeared darker due to the night sky. The moonlight barely covers an inch of your place.

You walked over to your bedroom with the idea of the heater not being on. The chill still confused you but maybe it was just the course of the night making you overthink.

You took off your costume grabbing a few clothes to change into. Making your way to the shower. You turned the water on the steam rising finally giving you some sort of warmth. You are half awake and partly drunk. You didn't notice the handprint on the glass shower door.

You stepped out of the shower wrapped in a towel. You rubbed your eyes. Whipping away at the mirror. You checked out your skin. Groaning at how tired you looked. Until you felt your heart jump. Shrieking in fear at the image of a man standing behind you with a smirk. You turned quickly not seeing him anymore. You turned back to the mirror whipping away at the steam and seeing nothing but yourself.

Your heart continued to race. Breathing heavily your chest quickly rose and fell. You touched your face, your other hand holding your towel over your chest trying to calm yourself down. You shook your head turning to leave once you controlled your breathing. You told yourself it was just Halloween and freaky things always happened on Halloween and that tomorrow everything would be back to normal.

You turned to leave stepping on someone's foot. You quickly looked up seeing the same man from the mirror standing tall in front of you. You gasped almost falling to your knees. You ran around him busting the bathroom door open. You scrambled making eye contact with your door. You ran over to your bed to get there quickly. However, the lock clicked on your door. You tried to yank it open. Banging on the door, furiously turning the knob and kicking the bottom.

You felt every hair on your body rise knowing your door was only locked from the inside. You tried to turn the lock but it wouldn't move. Stuck in place. The man emerged from the bathroom letting out a low deep chuckle before he stepped onto your bedroom floor.

He watched as you tried and failed to escape. He made his way to your bed holding onto the end of the frame. He crossed one leg over the other waiting for you to give up. You turned briefly feeling extremely cold again. Your eyes widened seeing him.

"Please let me go," you begged. "I won't tell anyone," you pleaded still gripping tightly onto the door knob. He chuckled shaking his head. He reached into his black jacket pulling out your mouse headband. He ticked his tongue on the roof of his mouth.

"Didn't your mother tell you that these were meant to protect you?" he asked. You were too busy fearing for your life to read between the lines of his words. You scanned your face. He closed his jacket leaning off the frame walking to lean more comfortably by your desk. He sat down in your black rowly chair.

"Protect me?" you asked chest still rising up and down. Your body is still wrapped in a towel. Water droplets fall onto the wooden floor. He dropped the ears onto the floor sliding them near you. "Everyone knows costumes hide you from us," he said a second voice appearing as he spoke smoothly morphing into one then two. A much more sinister voice than the human one he spoke with.

"Us?" you asked coming to the frightening conclusion that this person was not a person. He nodded, "Costumes on All Hallows Eve shield those from evil. It's why I couldn't touch you in that girl's bedroom. Nor could I speak to that excuse of a man at that horrible party. Is that really what you all do for fun?" he asked. You still held onto the door knob not trusting this stranger. He didn't seem like he wanted to hurt you but that doesn't mean he still wasn't dangerous.

"You seem confused," he said grabbing hold of your attention. He let out a sigh crossing one leg over the other. "Wear it," he motioned to the ears. You eyed them but didn't reach for them. He huffed annoyed and growing bored with your fear. "I'm not going to hurt you. Unless that's what you're into," he smirked dark clouds swimming in his eyes.

You cautiously let your grip loosen from the door knob. Hesitantly reached for the ears. You watched him as you grabbed them. He stood still the entire time. Once you held them he raised his hand. "Put them on," he spoke softly second voice appearing again. You sucked in a breath slowly placing them on your head close your eyes for just a moment, a simple blink and he was gone.

You gasped seeing the stranger was gone. You looked around searching for him. He smiled, he was still there. You just couldn't see him. He looked over at your desk finding a notebook. He lifted it clicking a pen. He wrote the note throwing it at your feet. You had walked further into the room not realizing where you were standing. You picked up the note crumbling the paper.

"Still Here," it read. "You look so pretty in white" he teased in his note. You jumped ripping the ears off and seeing you were standing right between his spread legs.

"Those things," he motioned to the ears. "They're so annoying," he said spoke tiredly. He snapped his fingers setting the grey mouse ears on fire. Once they burned to ash the fire stopped. He waved the ash away, out of existence, before he leaned closer to you. "There you see that's much better," he said words hissing out of his mouth and slipping from his lips like poison. And you couldn't even lie. The man or whatever he was, was hot.

He noticed the change in your stare. Your pupils slowly become wide with curiosity. He allowed the curious stare and the inevitable questions to take place after.

"What are you?" you asked feeling yourself, without control, drawing closer to him. He sat back with a devilish smirk on his pink lips. He cocked a brow. "If I tell you will you scream?" he asked a flirtatious undertone in his first voice. His second voice is a whole lot more sisnter sounding. You couldn't tell which voice actually belonged to him.

You sucked in a breath. Fear clouding your thoughts again. "Maybe," you exhaled out. He scanned his eyes up and down your body. Licking his lips. You took a step back remembering you were just in a towel. You gripped onto the white cloth. Almost tripping on a small puddle of water on the floor. The water had dried from your body but still, your hair soaked the ground.

He liked seeing your hair pushed back. "Relax," he spoke calmly. He sighed out a deep breath, "I wouldn't mind if you screamed," he said dark taste on his tongue. You hushed out a shudder. You took a few more steps back. He stood from your chair pushing it in before he made his way to you. You went back to the door holding onto the knob. He hovered over you like a shadow. He leaned down to your level.

"Now to answer your question. I'd hate to keep you waiting," He opened his coat pulling out a cloth. He handed it to you. "You're sweating," he spoke quietly. Your hand shook as you reached for it. Snatching it from him and dipping your face. He smiled satisfied that you took the cloth.

"You know if it makes you feel better," he began as you ran from beside him to the bathroom. You locked the door. He walked his way over. You could see the shadow of his feet from under the door. He leaned against the side of the door, on the wall. You stood behind the door quickly taking the chance to change into your clothes.

"I can't touch you unless you say I can. Ironically, you hold all the power," he said. You could hear the cocky smile on his lips as he spoke. He kept his eyes on the door. He could feel every part of the inside of your body. Your thoughts of fleeing. You had a plan to jump through the window. But the one he danced with. That lingered with his hope you thought for a second to sit on his lap with his legs spread.

"It's a shame honestly," he sighed shifting away. His back against the wall. Head resting back. He closed his eyes for a moment with a hum. "I've been watching. I've seen that poor excuse of a boyfriend of yours attempt to please both you and that fake blonde," he said feeling a pain of jealously at the memories. You widened your eyes coming back to the door. His eyes quickly flicked to your shadow appearing. Pupils became thin as he turned himself to stare. He was winning.

"You watch me?" you asked chest rising and falling. Your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest. All this time some weird stalker demon was watching you. You wanted to feel sick. You wanted to cover yourself up even more. But couldn't, because deep down seeing that stranger sitting at your desk legs spread made you want to sit right in between them. He was definitely hot. And if you didn't believe the devil, well, he could make you and you'd be okay with that.

He went up to the door. Hands pressed against it. He let out a small sniff smelling your sweet scent. Carnal needs blinding his right judgment. So fresh and clean from the shower you had only moments ago. "I've seen almost everything. Today was like any other. I used to watch other pretty girls until I heard you didn't believe in me. It hurt me at first, staining my ego. But it had been so long since I connected with a human. Demons don't feel the same as humans," he confessed itching to get you out of that bathroom and anywhere he could have you in this room with your permission.

"Demons?" you questioned. He huffed now annoyed but all your stupid questions. This was pointless to him. He couldn't control himself any longer. His desire to be with the human girl he craved was eating him alive like a thousand fleas on a dog. The itch, the need strong enough to break the barrier.

"Yes love," he spoke shakey undertone. He tried to silence the second voice knowing it scared you. "We-I," he began pupils flicking from wide to paper thin. "I am a demon," he said through an exhausted breath. Like he had just run a marathon. It didn't scare you. You had a feeling this was where this was going. He burned your ears with his fingers. It did shock you. There was a demon in your room. You brought your hands to your forehead pulling back gently.

"There is a demon in my room," you whispered to yourself.

"Yes one that is very desperate to be released," he spoke losing the confidence in his voice. "Released?" you asked still freaking out. He nodded head hitting the bathroom door. You jumped at the bang. He shook his head walking away from the door. You watched his feet leave.

"I need you," he spoke through masked pleas. "That is how I was able to come through tonight. That girl who let go of the planchette. If she hadn't I wouldn't have been able to come through. But well done to you for getting her to the point of embarrassment she lost control. It shortened my plan days," he said pleased smile on his lips. The second voice screamed at him to just bust down the door. But he fought against it. He didn't come this far just to scare you into submission. He preferred a more natural way of things. Even if there was nothing natural about him.

"You've been planning this?" you asked a hint of anger in your voice.

"For a year now," he confessed. You still shocked gripped onto the counter. You stared at yourself in the mirror. You took some water splashing your face hoping the cool water would relax you. You shut your eyes letting out a breath and allowing yourself to gather your thoughts.

"You said you needed me. Why?" you asked. He looked over at the door after it had been silent for a few minutes. He could have very easily gone into the bathroom without you noticing but held against it.

"I'm a lustful demon and you are the one I crave," he spoke truthfully charming smile on his lips. Something about him just felt so inviting. You believed every word he said tonight. He spoke so openly about everything he thought and felt. It made you feel a bit better, especially after tonight. He smiled feeling you becoming more trusting of him.

"You know," he began. "With your permission, I can make you feel so much better than your boyfriend," he said calming himself and returning back to his flirtatious nature. You looked up at the door. He walked closer to the door. You could feel his presence inches away from yours. You stepped closer. You trusted his words. It might have been foolish to put such faith in a demon but his wants seemed real.

"What's your name?" you asked.

"Jaemin," he said. Not expecting the door to open he held his head down small smile on his lips. But when the bathroom light became brighter he looked up at you. You felt your chest shudder as you let out a breath.

"Jaemin," you whispered like his name was a beautiful curse.

"I give you permission to touch me," you hushed. He smirked eyes turning completely black. You had no time to react. In a blink, he hovered over you eager hands reaching up to touch you. You flinched at his cool touch. He brought his hand back not wanting to hurt you. You looked into his eyes for the first time tonight. The black faded from his iris turning into a deep brown.

You felt yourself get lost in the dark swirls of his eyes. Taking small steps to close the gap between you and kiss the demon. He kissed your back hand reaching behind your neck. Gripping onto your hot skin pulling you closer to his frame. "I've waited so long for this," he said like a starved man. His mouth fit with yours. Moving in a passionate rhythm.

He pulled away from you. Your eyes still fluttered closed. Lashes dusting your cheeks. You slowly blinked them open. Jaemin already keeping his eyes intensely focused on you. He sucked in a breath. He could feel the heat rise in your body with just a single touch from his hand.

"Now that I've been able to kiss you once I don't think I'll be able to stop, love," he rasped lips burning from yours. His chin was a bright pink. You couldn't pull away from him. Every part of him was so inviting. The danger of this no longer worried you. It thrilled you in ways that terrified you but also excited you.

"So then don't stop," you hushed eyes flicking from his eyes to his lips and then back to his eyes. He growled pulling you back in lips engulfing yours. Tongue swiping your bottom lip. His hands slid down your back side grabbing a hand full of your ass. He groaned into the kiss tapping the back of your thigh. You jump hands still wrapped in the locks of his black hair.

Wrapping your legs around his waist he pushed you up against the wall. Your back hit the wall hard. So hard you released from the kiss. Head hitting the wood. It didn't hurt. You let out a yelp of surprise opening your mouth again a small giggle leaving your lips. With your neck exposed he took this as a chance to attack the softness of your skin. Licking and biting parts of your neck.

"Sure you're not a vampire?" you teased. He rolled his eyes scrunching his nose in disgust. "Filthy bloodsuckers," he hissed. He licked his way down to the outline of your breasts just poking out of your tank top. "I prefer to use my mouth to taste other parts of the human body," He sucked just under your collarbone. Freehand that wasn't holding you up reaching up to your top. Greedy hand grabbing hold of the thin fabric. Tearing it off your body. He through the poor excuse for a shirt far off.

Hands wrapping around his neck. Fingers grazing the hair on his skin. He growled at the sounds you made. Mouth meeting yours swallowing all your sounds. He yanked you from off the wall.

"Love," he spoke as he laid you on the bed. "Do you know how agonizing it is to see you here almost every night," he began kissing his way down your chest. Unclipping your bra and tossing it with your shirt. Your hands kept on his shoulders pushing him down. "Watching you try to please yourself and fail. All because of that boy what was his name again?" he thought to pause. He quickly went back addicted to the scent of the wetness forming between your legs.

"It doesn't matter. By tonight I will be the only one you call for," he said carnivorous gaze as stared from below you. His hands came to the string of your shorts. Undoing the knot you created. You watched from above a part of you still trying to make sense of this. But the more you tried erotic images of Jaemin fucking you over your table or completely devouring you in the shower appeared in your mind. So vivid and felt so real it haunted your mind.

Jaemin pulled your shorts down removing them from your ankles. Licking his lips. His tongue formed two. Hot look in his eyes as his pupils thinned. The change was something you barely noticed. To lost in bliss to fear him. To remember how badly he was corrupting your mind, body, and soul.

He licked a stripe up your clothed pussy. You shuddered at the contain. Laying his tongue flat on your soaked clit. He brought his other hand up to spread your thighs further apart. The need to close them feeling so exposed to the demon. You closed them on his head. He spread apart again.

"Stay open for us baby," he spoke second sinful voice appearing. You tried your best too. But Jaemin's tongue so hot and heavy made it impossible. So he waved his fingers two long black vines appearing from under your bed tying around each of your ankles. You widened your eyes but didn't fight against them. They held you open for him. He stood back admiring your body so angelic, divine.

"God created you with love," he complimented. He removed his jacket allowing it to fall to the ground. Rolling up the sleeves of his black blouse and undoing the first few buttons. He fell to his knees shaking his head a bit but unsuccessful in sending in the other voice away. Eyes switch between both patience and animalism. The need to protect you and ruin you.

You watched his eyes change fighting with the demon inside him. Siting up as much as you could fascinated by the sight. Head coming between your legs looking up at you with wide pupils. He didn't want you to see him so monstrous. He kissed the side of your plush thighs. Humming at the warmth of your skin. Leaving a few bite marks. Sucking on the burning skin he bit when you whinced.

He pulled your panties off unable to control the change in his eyes. Dark orbs took control as he lunged forward engulfing your pussy like you were the forbidden fruit he carved so desperately. Long fingers grazing up your thigh. Slithering like a snake as they reached your core. Spreading your folds making it easier for him to collect all your sweet juice in his mouth. Bringing his hand to tease your hole. Swirling around in circles with his index finger. His mouth returned to your erect clit.

Your head fell back in pure ecstasy. Letting out a loud moan as he sucked so well on your clit. Grazing his teeth over the bundle of nerves causing your body to twist and turn. Back arching off the mattress. Jaemin took it upon himself to wave his finger again. Finding the teddy bear Mark once gave you placing it underneath your neck so you'd be more comfortable as he devoured you from below.

Your hand reached down to his shoulder gripping onto it. Fingers finding their way under his black silk blouse. Nails digging into his skin. Dragging them forward to his hair. He groaned into your aching pussy sending a vibration throughout your entire body. Hand trailing through his hair. Grabbing hold tugging at his locks. "Fuck," you cursed rutting your hips forward nose bumping into your clit. Jaemin continued his assault groaning as you road his face. Juice sweeping from down his chin, down his finger that he stuck inside you, and down the mattress.

"You do so well loved. Tell me I'm the only one who can make you feel this way," he spoke darkly hunger in his voice. You could barely form a thought let alone speak. You could only respond with a moan. Jaemin unsatisfied slowed his movements. You whined but he shushed you. He made his way up your body. The coolness of his skin on yours. You opened your eyes feeling his exposed body on top of yours. Cock poking your inner thigh. When he gets undressed you thought.

He smirked finally when your eyes met his. Two of his fingers slowly pump into you. Your lips parted letting out small whines and protest to his slow movements. "Please," you begged. Jaemin nodded moving a hair from your face. "Soon love but just tell me it's only me," he said a simple smile on his lips but a sinful look in his eyes. You gulped the coolness of his body relaxing the heat of yours.

"Only you can make me feel this way Jaemin," you said through pants. He smiled proud of you. He placed a chaste kiss on your lips. He nodded hands sensually roaming around your body. "Good girl," he said voice dropping a thousand octaves. You whined as he removed his fingers.

"It's okay love," he said aligning his dick at your entrance. Tip leaking precum down your inner thigh. Poking at your entrance and running his cock up and down your slit collecting your juice and coaxing himself in it. "I'll take care of you," he spoke watching as his cock pushed through your tight hole. You gripped onto his beefy arm. Feeling the firmness of his muscles. Eyeing his strong frame. Body carved out by a God. You drooled at the sight of him. Pushing his dick deep inside you. Plevis brushing against your clit. His body flexed as he pushed further inside you.

Your wetness flooded out of you and onto his cock making it easier for him to slip in. He began to move not giving you much time to adjust. Fucking into slow finding a rhythm. Once he heard the sound of your moans he picked up his past. Thrusting into your hard hands gripping onto your waist. You kept your hands on the strength of his arms. You moaned loudly his fist coming to either side of your head and drilling into you.

"Please Jaemin," you choked on your moan. Throat pinching as his hips met yours. He growled lost in his own pleasure. Waving his hand to rid of the vines. They slithered away under the bed. Taking his strong hands he flipped you over. Pushing your head into the mattress. Spreading your legs with his knee. Bringing his cock to your red hole. Pushing into your velvet walls fucking into you hard.

"Fuck baby it's like your pussy was made for me," he growled head falling back incomplete Heaven. His hand reaches around to your neck pulling you back. Laying your back against his chest. Hand wrapping around your neck as he pounded from behind. Your head fell back, neck exposed as you rested on his shoulder. He moved some of your hair to the side biting down on your neck. Groaning into your skin. Intoxicating your entire body with sin.

"Fuck Jaemin more," you groaned. Letting out a loud cry when his free hand made his way to your clit. He had you like this for a moment. Feeling you tighten around him he flipped you back around laying you flat. He needed to see your face when you came. You an earthy moan as he fucked into fast still drawing quick circles around your clit.

"Jaemin i'm close," you moaned. He gritted his teeth bringing his hands to your ass. Spreading you opened more and lifting you a bit just to fuck deeper. Graxing over your sweet spot inside you sending you over the edge. Creaming all over his dick. Your release oozes out of you and down his shaft. He let out a deep growl at the sight. Eyes turning completely black. Horns form out of the top of his head. Everything surrounding the two of you lifting. You squeezed tightly around him. To overstimulate to pay attention to the room.

"Fuck baby," he groaned head falling back. "You're all mine. All fucking mine," a predatory growl leaving his lips. As if by painting your insides white he was marking you as his own. So close to climax he pounded harder bringing you to your second climax. Feeling you release again sent him into a spiral. Cumming hard inside you. Hot release squirting inside and outside your pussy. Both yours and his cum mix.

His chest rose up and down. Both of you heaving. He stood like that for a moment before pulling out. He stepped towards his clothes. You sat up seeing the redness around your ankles. You rubbed them wincing a bit. You looked over at you fixing his slacks. "Apologizes love. Sometimes I can be a bit rough," he said walking to your bathroom. You nodded and he stepped inside. After a moment he returned the warm cloth in his hand. Cleaning you up.

He noticed a spot he missed. Leaning instead and licking it clean just inches away from your clit. You shuddered sending him a cautious look. You stood up as well. Walking to your closet and changing your clothes. When you returned he was fully dressed.

"Where are you going?" you asked. He sighed, "Halloween ends in five minutes. I have to go back. I have work to do," he said.

"Work?" you asked. He shook his head. "So many questions," he began as he stepped towards you. "Don't miss me. I'll always be here, watching or in your dreams," he said placing a kiss on your forehead. And if you really want to contact me you can always use the board," he finished. You sighed rolling your eyes and arms crossed over your chest.

He took a step forward unable to resist. Shutting his eyes and placing a kiss on your lips. "And baby," he trailed. "Yes?" you asked eyes locked with his. Loving gaze shifting to something much more sinister.

"If he asks you tell him the Devil made you do it," he spoke poisonous smirk on his lips. A dark chuckle left his lips. Delish smile wide on his pink lips. You blinked and he was gone. Shocked by the sudden realization that he was not a demon but the devil himself every hair on my body rose.

But you hoped God could forgive you for being even more attracted to him than you were before. Being that you were the girl who brought the devil to his knees.

Fin

OMG, I felt such a need to make this. You don't even understand. You guys how do we feel about Devil Jaemin? I love it. This was my Halloween treat. I love Halloween so I had to do this.

Also,

would you like a part 2? I can see this having one.

Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. Please share and vote also don't forget reblogging is welcomed.

Happy Halloween.

See you soon ;)

[cupidlovesastro]

☎️𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲🧨

moon masterlist

fire sign observations

mutable sign observations

sagittarius is ruled by jupiter, the planet of luck, abundance, wealth, largeness, omptimism, profits, prosperity, growth, and healing. sagittarius represents adventure, freedom, traveling, optimism, honesty, passionate, curious, and independence

moon represents emotions, intuitions, comforts, unconscious mind, instincts, spirituality, motherhood, fertility, femininity, and your home.

topics in this post- emotions, comfort, good mom traits, bad mom traits, your appearance, your house/ room, sagittarius moon celebrities

♐︎ someone with a sagittarius moon can have quite bold, brash, and big emotions. these people can be dramatic when expressing their self. they let their emotions run free and wild, and worry about the consequences later. they also hate pity or being looked down on when they’re emotional. they’re not seeking pity, or someone to ��relate” to, they want to be heard and understood. they may also be brutally honest when emotional and upset. they might start saying all the emotions they were holding back and expressing them all at once, although they are very expressive in general. they are also passionate people and can become passionate about their feelings. they feel strongly about their emotions, spirituality, femininity, and intuitions. they are going to trust their gut more than others. they may also want alone time when they are upset and don’t want to be smothered, comforted, etc. they can calm down just as fast and they got upset as well. they don’t stay stuck in their feelings or let things get to them super badly (all depending on what it is ofc). they don’t like dwelling in their feelings or on the past. like like to learn from their emotions, intuition, spirituality, life experiences, and move on

♐︎ you find comfort in things like traveling or even just getting out of the house. going on a walk, visiting a friend, hanging out are all things that can make you feel more comforted and stable. also watching or seeing things about other countries can peak your interest and give you a sense of peace. spending time alone to be by yourself also helps you

♐︎ if your mom was a good mom, she may have treated you like a friend at time. she was really free spirited and allowed you to express yourself and have your own thoughts and opinions. she may have took you on trips and you could’ve traveled often. she was also really honest with you, and didn’t like to lie to you, even if she knew it’s what you wanted to hear. her way of showing that she cares was by always telling you the truth. she also tried to remind you of the bright side of things or give you a more optimistic stand point. she also wasn’t super over bearing and allowed you to do your own thing. she didn’t try to invade your privacy.

♐︎ if your mom is a bad mom, she could have been super hands off. she wasn’t very present in your life , possibly dead beat or just really distant. she didn’t really try to mother you or guide you, she just kind of let you do whatever you wanted to. she could possible be a liar or doesn’t tell full truths. if she does tell you the truth, it could be in a rude or aggressive way, maybe to use it against you as well. she could’ve dropped you off with different people , like grand parents, day care, etc. as long as it meant she didn’t have to take care of you, or handle her responsibilities.

↓(if you don’t have a house, apply this to your room)↓

♐︎ the moon can represent the face. sagittarius moon people have thicker eyebrows, that tend to be arched as well. they also have shorter nose bridges, and noses that are pointed at the tip. they also have thinner lips and more square foreheads. they have higher cheek bones, and the men seem to have eyes that are smaller in the outer corner, while rounded in the middle/ inner corner. the women have more almond or upturned eyes

♐︎ your house could be on the larger side. you may also live in an rv for awhile. i can also see someone with this placement moving often or living in different houses. but when you settle in a house, you can live somewhere that is bigger, has a larger living room, kitchen, or yard. you could also live somewhere, where there’s less people and you are kind of on your own. your house brings a sense of freedom to others. like they can let go and be their self, or have fun at your house. people may also feel a sense of healing and growth in your house. they may also feel quite happy and inspired. your house may also be on the more expensive side and some can consider you lucky

♐︎ sagittarius moon celebrities- adele, oprah winfrey, al pacino, vincent van gogh, xxxtentacion, dakota johnson, stephen king, camilla cabello, jeff bezos, naomi campbell, mike tyson, michael jordan, pablo picasso

[brittle-doughie]

Introducing the Y/N plush! And the cookies and what they do with said plush!

The cookie in the second image are, shining glitter, pomegranate, chess choco twins, golden cheese, caramelon, custard the lll, black pearl, licorice, lychee, komiho, Affogato, lilac, onion, stardust, space doughnut, timekeeper, shadow milk, white lily, snap dragon, pitya, abyss monarch and fire spirit. And if your wondering, the two drawings took 6 hours total-)

The Earthbread Big Seller!

I can tell which of the two took you the longest. I would like to know what it says next to Snapdragon if you can!

“Amazing Y/N Plush! Collect your very own doll to keep. Be the first one on your block to own the amazing new Y/N Plush! Please do not fight over them!”

[A large line had formed at Butterbear’s shop! Cookies of the sea and sky have emerged too to get their very own plush!]

Many fans had considered Shining Glitter’s latest show to be one of her best! She couldn’t take all of the credit though, she had help!

She cuddled close the Y/N plush she had next to her mic stand. She can count on it to allow her to give it her all, as if Y/N themself was watching her!

Having her own plush hold up a mirror for her to help fix her hair up already made itself more useful to Pomegranate than a certain cookie in the CoD.

She took a quick look around before she took it with her to bed, dozing off with the plushie clutched tightly in her arms.

The Chess Choco duo loved that they now have an observer to their chess games in the form of their own Y/N plush! They didn’t expect one or the other to pull anything tricky, but it was nice to have some sort of reassurance that no sneaky tactics came into play!

They split the time in half with how much each of the two got to have the plush. It doesn’t stop disputes from breaking out that had Earl Grey stepping in from time to time!

One of Golden Cheese Cookie’s favorite things to do with her Y/N plush would be to dress it up in whatever amount of riches she can put on it the little doll.

One of her favorite outfits for it is one that makes the plush look like a resident of her own kingdom, complete with wings to match hers. Something she has planned for the real deal when she gets the opportunity!

Carameleon Cookie was so stoked to have a buddy to call his own within the forested areas close to the Silver Kingdom. It sure beats being alone all the time!

He can tell you that he isn’t too attached to the thing as he waits for the actual Y/N Cookie to come by. He just..doesn’t want to lose it, okay?!

It was good to have one of his loyal subjects always around to listen what he had to say! Even if it was just a plush version of them, Custard Cookie III could spend minutes just talking to the plush as if it were a real cookie!

It’s why he considers it as one of his best subjects in the kingdom! Right behind the real Y/N Cookie, of course!

Black Pearl’s Y/N plush is nothing short of the best thing to ever grace her waters. It was down to the very last detail the cookie of her dreams had.

She’d never tire of it, acting protective over the plush, something she’d be more aggressively so if the real Y/N Cookie was with her! The plush will look amazing within her dwelling!

Licorice Cookie didn’t care about Pomegranate’s venom spewing mouth these days, not when he has his bestest friend, the Y/N plush, with him!

He can truly confide his secrets and feelings towards the little plush, like his feelings towards Y/N Cookie, but it better not blab to you! He even uses the plush as a guardian for his diary!

Ha! Why wait in line for a plush when Lychee Dragon could just swipe it from that fumbler, Kumiho Cookie! She didn’t appreciate Y/N Cookie enough, so why not give it to a dragon that certainly will!

Kumiho was not having it though, angrily coming after the dragon for stealing her darling in plush form! She did not let Lychee’s lies get to her, she’s taking back that plush!

Affogato Cookie could just monologue all day to his plush on how he plans to take over the throne one day and Y/N Cookie will join him as part of that dream!

He’d promise nothing but the best life for you with a luxurious life with no worries or limits as he went to caress the plush’s cheek. The best victory would be to have you for himself while that Caramel Arrow Cookie watched! He can’t stop giggling to himself about it!

With how popular these plushies were getting, Lilac was particularly watchful of his. He already called it his own with the lilac scent and he’ll bring down anyone swiping his plush from him.

He always keeps it on his person, both as a precaution and that he has easy access to it to hold and cuddle close when he’s needy. It’s what he would’ve done to the actual Y/N Cookie.

Blackberry Cookie can always count on Y/N Cookie to help settle down Onion during one of her crying bouts, she enjoyed the company from them too. So it was a total win when she received a plush for herself and for Onion.

Onion always liked to go to bed holding both her doll and plushie to ensure a good night’s rest without the fear of a nightmare waking her up, for she trusts the Y/N plush to help her even in her dreams.

Stardust doesn’t mind sharing his Y/N plushie with his friend, Space Doughnut. After all, they share the same trait of seeing Y/N Cookie as a dear friend. Space Doughnut was just as trusting with theirs to Stardust as well!

Space Doughnut does get overly excited when they could play around with BOTH plushies, making Stardust laugh with a smile as Doughnut happily played the two plushies.

Was it really any surprise that Timekeeper Cookie wanted to be greedy and have a number of Y/N plushies? They’re her favorite, why wouldn’t she take them? It wasn’t like the original owners could prove anything against her.

Timekeeper Cookie cuddled herself amidst her plushies without a care in the world, relishing in seeing the face of the cookie she liked all around her. Though it wouldn’t hurt to try and grab a couple more to her collection…and then Y/N Cookie themself!

Shadow Milk’s puppet show was going to be wonderful with the guest of honor being Y/N Cookie themself! Almost! He was able to obtain a plushie from one of his clown faeries and he was absolutely adoring it!

The plushie is always going to be a part of his puppet shows, interacting with a doll of himself that he made. How romantic it would be if the two stuffed dolls danced and smushed together to replicate a kiss! It even made Shadow Milk himself blush at the thought of you and him possibly doing that too~

One of the faeries had gently opened White Lily’s glass case, placing down a Y/N plush they had gotten for her. She immediately grabbed it and clutched it tight close to her, a smile on her face being the indicator that she liked the plush already.

One of the faeries had gotten curious about what made this plushie so dear to her as she reached for it and tried to pull it out of her arms. She had to quickly reel her hand back when White Lily swiped at it, nuzzling the plushie closer to her body, shielding it from any further attempts.

Pitaya Dragon Cookie didn’t expect Snapdragon to enjoy their Y/N plush that much to the point that they whined for Pitaya to hand it over to them. While this was meant to be for Pitaya only, they didn’t mind it as they give it to the young dragon.

Snapdragon immediately swiped it up and flies around with the doll in their arms, babbling happily as they played around with the stuff toy. Pitaya couldn’t help but smile at the sight, it was just like when Y/N Cookie would play with Snapdragon themself…

Abyss Monarch Cookie didn’t find themself going out much, especially for something as small as a stuffed plush. Yet there they were, having went out and gotten a Y/N to call their own.

This sense of adoration they start to feel for this plush was almost on the same level as they had for Y/N Cookie themself. They gently picked it up and spun slowly around with it, was this feeling a sign and not a temporary emotion? This feeling of…longing…

Fire Spirit was so stoked to have receive his own plush that he couldn’t wait to have simmer down first before messing around with it, too enveloped in his own that his hands start to emit smoke touching the plush.

He started to freak out when he open his eyes to see that he had turned the plush into a pile of ash, crying in anguish as he tried to salvage what he can. He went back to Butterbear Cookie with the news and he was generous enough to give him a replacement, warning him to be more careful next time!

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Obsidian Salt

Summary: A little Witch!Reader x Demon!Rhys AU for my Spooky Season Fic List

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My hands shake around the ancient text, the worn tome heavy and dust laden from years upon years of sitting on a shelf, untouched and forgotten. The old latin script is illegible in places, the ink faded and hidden under unidentifiable stains; the parchment is dog-eared and scribbled in, the margins full of strange, archaic markings I’ve never seen used in our Coven’s rune work. These are not the spells of my ancestors, not the runes my mother and grandmother cast upon the old foundations of our family home. We are a family of witches, dating back beyond the ages of written word; I am supposed to carry on that legacy, but truth be told, I’ve always been terrible at spellwork. My potions are mediocre; powers of persuasion abysmal. I truly am a poor excuse for a witch, and everyone in the coven knows it. Perhaps that is why Sister Ruth chose me to put on a demonstration at the Solstice Festival tomorrow. If I cannot prove my worth, well, maybe it is in the best interest of the coven to throw me out, or worse, make a sacrifice out of me. 

I would not be the first.

I grip the tome a little tighter. I must prove my usefulness. I cannot fail my sisters, or worse, my grandmother.  She raised eight successful witches, it would be to her utter shame to have been my teacher all these years for nothing. 

I draw a shaking breath. These spells are old magic. Dark magic. But I must get good at something quickly, and the gods know I will not get there on any natural talent. Perhaps I don’t need to be a natural. Perhaps I just need to summon something that is. 

On the old wood floor of our basement, I have laid the circle of obsidian salt in three overlapping circles, each etched with runes of chalk for protection. Just in case, I’ve dusted the floor with dried rosemary and anise seeds; an added barrier against whatever evil I might accidentally conjure if this goes wrong. My mother’s amulet feels heavy beneath my sweater, the cold iron biting against my skin as if in warning against what I am about to do.

I take another deep breath and ignore the warning. I must not fail.

The words are clunky, foreign on my tongue, the first couple of tries produces no results at all. Perhaps I really am the worst witch ever!

I grip the tome so tight the spine groans as I try again, slower this time, sounding out each word piece by piece. I will not fail.

The whole basement is lit with candles and as I finish the final words of the spell, the light suddenly snuffs itself out. 

The air in the room drops to near freezing temperatures. My hands so stiff and shaky around the old tome that the book slips from my hands and falls somewhere in the darkness. I make it onto my knees to look for it in a mad scramble before the sound of rushing wind fills the tiny room. It’s so loud I have to cover my ears with my shaking hands. 

In the center of the salt ring, dark shadows begin to slither out from a crack in the floor, hissing like a dozen tiny snakes. 

What have I done?!

I scramble to find the book in the dark, hands tearing over the anise seeds and clumps of rosemary. Perhaps the crushed scent of herbs will be enough to ward off whatever terrible shadow I’ve just called upon!

The temperature of the room continues to drop, lower and lower, even as the screeching wind gets louder and louder. The shadows within the circle grow darker and thicker by the moment, spinning now like a whirlwind. At least the salt holds. 

And then, as quickly as the noise had begun, it suddenly quiets. All the candles light themselves again, allowing me to see where I’d dropped the book: Directly into the circle, having bounced over the line, and it now sits at the feet of the most handsome male I’ve ever seen in my life.

I can do nothing but stare. I had meant to summon some help, the soul of an old mage or a spirit from another world, perhaps, but not… well, whatever he is. He’s definitely alive, his bronze, bair chest rising and falling, making the swirl of dark ink over his skin move in twining patterns. Not a spirit, though I do not know what to make of the great, bat-like wings that sprout from his back, the leathery membrane twitching as he brings them close to his body to avoid the barrier the salt creates. And his eyes! Gods, there like two blazing, violet suns inside the sharp planes of his face. 

“Well isn’t this interesting,” he purrs, voice smooth as velvet.

“Gods, what have I done?” I whisper to no one in particular.

His mouth twists in a devilish grin as he bends down to pick up my tome. From the tips of his fingers come dark claws. A bit of living shadow curls over his wrist, moving like snakes across the worn pages. “No gods here, Darling.”

I, somehow, find it within me to stand, despite my shaking legs. It is still terribly cold in this basement; the source of it seems to be coming from him. “What are you?”

He chuckles as he flips through the pages, claws running affectionately over the runes written in the margins. “Why don’t you come closer and I’ll show you?”

The longer I watch him the more off I realize he is. There are fangs in his mouth, the sharp tips of them glinting in the candlelight. Tiny, glittering drops of starlight glisten in the strands of his raven-black hair. Intertwined within the ink across his chest are smaller versions of the runes written within the pages of the book. 

“I’ll stay right here,” I say.

He sticks out his full lower lip in a pout. “That’s no fun!”

He takes a step closer to the line of salt, testing the barrier with the tip of his boot. At least I managed to summon him half-way decent in a dark, leather pair of pants and boots. I don’t know what I’d do if I had summoned him fully nude. 

My cheeks flush at the thought, drifting down to follow the defined V of his abs, and where his pants slide low on his hips. If he were human I’d climb him like a tree. 

“Don’t tell me you summoned me just to gawk?” He presses. When he catches where my eyes are on his body, he adds, “Although you’re welcome to enjoy the view for as long as you like.”

I let out a huff. “I didn’t summon you for anything! I was trying to talk to the spirits.”

“There’s only one spell that can summon me, and you picked it,” he turns the book to show me the exact page I’d been reading from. “So tell me, what is it you want, Witchling?”

The way he says Witchling makes my skin flush; the heat in his tone enough to make me second guess myself. Why did I think that spell would summon something else? 

Perhaps I am a fool for saying it, but I blurt, “I need help.”

“Do tell,” he purrs.

“I’m supposed to give my coven a display of my magic tomorrow, for the Solstice, and well… I’m kind of the worst witch ever.” 

He glances at the herbs on the floor, and then back up to me. I swear there are actual violet flames moving around within his irises. I don’t know what he is, but I don’t think it’s anything that can help me. But how am I supposed to send him back without the book?

“I meant to summon a spirit to guide me in some quick magic. I didn’t mean to summon, well, whatever you are.”

“I am many things,” he says, walking a slow circle around the barrier, testing it. It’s like watching a recently caged animal at the zoo; he’s testing every point for a weak spot, and if he finds it, he’s using it. 

I swallow the lump in my throat. What do I do if he gets out?

“But you can call me Rhys.”

If there is any heat left in the room, it leaves in a rush. “As in Rhysand? One of the Princes of Hel?”

Rhys drags his claws over the invisible barrier the salt creates and I watch the magic ripple and pulse under those sharp tips. “Perhaps.”

“You need to go back,” I say in panic, even though I know it can’t work that way. I summoned him. I have to be the one to send him back. Without the book, Hel, even with the book, I can’t do anything. 

“Then send me back, Witchling.”

I’m going to have to get my grandmother, and everyone is going to know that not only am I a failure as a witch, but I am a danger to all of us. I can’t even read a spell book right! I summoned a Prince of Hel by accident!

I chew on my thumbnail, pacing now myself around the outside edges of the salt. What do I do? What do I do?

“Oh but you can’t, can you?” He teases, knocking the book against the barrier. “Not without this pretty little thing.”

The dried herbs crunch under my boots as I keep pacing. There are no other tomes like that accessible to me, not without the Elders knowledge. This one had slipped past unnoticed in my grandmother’s grand collection, I had found it by sheer luck. There were no other texts to help me out of this one, and at this rate, even if there was, could I even get it to work?

“So how about we do this my way, hmm?”

A shiver crawls its way up my spine. 

“You break the barrier, and I will help you with your little Solstice tomorrow.”

I finally turn to look at him. “You would do that?”

“After tomorrow night, you can send me back and we can pretend this whole thing was a bad dream.”

Maybe this wasn’t a mistake after all! Maybe I can still turn this around!

“You won’t cause any trouble?” I ask.

He puts a clawed hand over his heart. “I will not cause any trouble.”

“You swear it?”

“I cannot break my word, Darling,” he returns. 

My hands shake. What other choice do I have? “Just until the Solstice passes.”

“I promise you, that is all the time I will need.” I have to admit, his voice is strangely soothing. He does not strike me as some malevolent ruler of darkness at all. 

I grab a broom off the wall. “It’s a bargain then.”

He grins wolfishly the entire time, watching my every step as I approach with the intensity of a wolf stalking a deer. 

I swallow the lump in my throat. It’s only one night, what could one night hurt? With one last shaking breath, I drag the broom through the salt and break the seal.

The book clatters to the floor for a second time tonight, as he lunges forward, a clawed hand wrapping around my neck as his momentum propels me back against the wall. I hit the worn stones so hard dust rains down from the ceiling. 

Panic grips me; I have no magic to save me as a real witch ought. He’s taller than I thought he was, towering over me as his grip on me tightens to the point of pain, the tips of his claws leaving indents in my skin.  Rhys chuckles at my plight as he leans down and brushes his lips over mine in the ghost of a kiss. Ice fills my veins at the contact. “Silly little, Witchling, a night is more than enough to make you mine.”

[j2hoes]

Foreign Exchanges. (Anthony Vaughn x Reader.)

Summary: Moving school in the middle of the year is never easy. Let alone from an entirely different country. Despite Y/N trying to garner the least amount of attention possible, she still manages to catch the eye of a certain brunette.

Word Count: 1.5k

Gif Not Mine . Requests are open!

Warnings: Mature language.

A/N: My first Ant fic and I’m debating making this a series but you’ll have to let me know what you think! Anyway just a short one to start us off but there’ll be more soon. Don’t forget requests are open!

“I’d like you all to offer a warm welcome to our new student Y/N Y/L/N, she’s moved here all the way from the UK! So let’s show her some of that Hartley spirit.” The teacher, who introduced herself as Jojo, announces to the class. All of them staring at me with blank stares. “Go ahead and say a few words.”

She nudges my shoulder gently before I can decline the offer. Encouraging smile on her face. There are no smiles from my classmates however, only bored faces who couldn’t be less interested in my arrival. For which I’m grateful. I’d seen this school on the news prior to my enrolment, I know these students are brutal. I mean, a sex map? Dad wasn’t too happy about sending me here though he didn’t really have a choice, no other schools were admitting students this late into the term.

“Um hi, I’m Y/N. It’s good to be here I guess.”

“Does anybody have any questions for Y/N?” Jojo offers, attempting to find a way for the class to get to me.

Numerous hands raise and I let out a groan internally. It’s bad enough that I’m stood at the front of the classroom like a new shiny toy but to now be subject to whatever ridiculous questions these teens can come up with is a new form of torture. One that I am really not looking forward to.

Jojo points to her first student, allowing them to be the first to ask. “Why don’t you have a proper British accent?” The girl seems genuinely curious, eyes focused on me as she combs her fingers through her orange hair. Stickers adorn her face along with colourful eyeshadow to match her bright outfit. She has a gentle aura surrounding her, which makes me relieved as I realise her question wasn’t meant in malice and more so pure interest. Maybe these kids won’t be so bad?

“Um, I think the accent you’re think of is the Queen’s English. There isn’t many people that talk like that really, maybe a few down south but I grew up in the North East. None of us talk posh.” I tell her, watching as she seems to take notes as I speak.

“Thank you Quinni, Spider what about you?” Jojo asks, pointing to the tall blonde that is hunched over at the back of the class.

His eyes flicker up to me, giving me the once over though he doesn’t seem too impressed by my presence.

“Yeah, what is it with you and all the other poms having bad teeth?” The boy pipes up, I notice the two boys next to him laugh. Though the one in the baggy outfit makes eye contact with me and a flash of guilt appears on his face.

“I don’t have bad teeth actually. Nobody I know does and to be perfectly honest, that stereotype is deeply rooted in classism and while the UK faces a major cost of living and wealth gap crisis, I don’t think it’s funny to joke about things like that. Do you?” I retort, causing h the pink haired girl and her friend to applaud my mini speech. Both offering cheers.

“Okay any more questions that aren’t going to cause arguments?” Jojo asks, a few hands lowering as they don’t want to get in trouble. “Yes, Amerie?”

“Do you miss home?”

“Yeah, yeah I really miss it.” I start, thinking of everything that I had to leave behind. I know this was the best decision for my family, but I do hold a slight resentment towards being here. “Don’t get me wrong, Sydney’s great and all, but I miss my friends, my house, my pets, I even miss the shitty pub from down the street.”

“Thank you Y/N, I feel like we’ve got to know you a little bit more now, so feel free to take a seat and we’ll get started.”

The only open seat is next to the girl that Jojo called Amerie. Smiling as I take my place, I open my notebook and begin to doodle swirls and other patterns across the page. Focusing on that rather than the subject being taught. It’s some form of sex education by the sounds of it. However, it seems very outdated and heteronormative. Nothing worth listening to anyway.

Upon hearing the bell ring, I begin to pack away my things and watch as a few students mutter things towards Amerie. “Map bitch.” “Cunt.” and “Crazy bitch.” Just to name a few. I realise that may be the reason she had nobody sat next to her and figure it may be best to avoid her if I want to stay under everybody’s radar.

Finding my locker, I begin to turn the lock with great difficulty. Back home, the numbers simply connect and the door clicks open, that doesn’t seem to be the case here though. Fiddling with the dial, I hear the bell signal the beginning of the next class and I huff, annoyed that I’m having this much trouble with a stupid locker.

As the hallways clears out, I continue to twist and pull at the lock. Bag dumped on the floor as I try with all my strength to pry the door open. With no such luck, I throw a quick kick to the locker beneath mine, leaving a dent in the door slightly. Slumping with my back again the metal, I find myself face to face with the boy in the baggy outfit.

Not previously noticing how cute he was, dark hair hidden beneath a beanie, a couple of curls escaping. Boyish grin plastered across his face and piercing brown eyes staring directly at me. I won’t even try to deny that Australia has one up on the Uk in terms of boys, they’re just so much cuter over here.

“What did the locker do to you?” He jokes, taking the slip of paper with the locker code out of my hand.

“Bloody thing won’t open.” I mumble, stepping out of the way as he demonstrates how to open it with ease. My cheeks tinged pink as I fear my outburst may have been unnecessary.

“I thought you Brits were supposed to be good at containing your emotions anyway.” He leans against the locker beside mine, watching me as I stuff countless books into the small space. Normally this would make me uncomfortable, yet there’s there’s something about him that makes me feel warm and calm.

“Nah we love our fair share of violence.” I tell him, smiling as I do so, remembering the amount of fights that used to take place on my estate daily. Providing free entertainment for all the neighbours. “We’re polite, but piss us off and we’ll knock you into next week.”

He laughs, folding his arms across his chest as I close the locker door. His eyes gaze over me as I turn to face him properly. Noticing the small cross necklace hanging from his neck, I can’t help but imagine what it would look like against his bare skin.

“You religious?” I ask, nodding towards the chain.

“Nah, I’m Ant.” He brushes off my question and tucks the necklace beneath his shirt. Clearly a touchy subject that perhaps I shouldn’t have brought up. So instead I attempt to lighten the mood.

“Ant?” The word escapes my mouth as a slight giggle, unable to hide the amusement his name brings. “And your mate’s called Spider?”

“Yeah, stupid right?” He chuckles, playing with the straps of his bag. Almost as if he’s nervous. “We’ve been best mates our entire lives. My real name’s Anthony but nobody calls me that. Same with Spider, his name’s Spencer. Kids started to call us Ant and Spider when we were like six, guess it just stuck.”

“That’s cute.”

Picking up my bag, I throw it over my shoulder. Figuring I should probably head to my next class despite being extremely late already.

“Hey, about Spider.” Ant reaches for my arm, clearly sensing that I’m about to leave. “I just wanted to apologise, he can be a bit of a dick but he’s a nice guy deep down.”

My arm tingles where he’s touching it, feeling the slightest of move of his fingers. As though my nerves are on fire. Suddenly hypersensitive to any little movement he makes. I know I shouldn’t be feeling things this intensely, hell, I’ve just met the guy. Yet he sparks an excitement in me that I haven’t felt in a while.

“Honestly it’s sound. You don’t need to apologise.” I assure him, offering a smile, I see his shoulders relax. “I can handle a prick like him any day.”

“Yeah you certainly shot him down quick.”

As he removes his hand from my arm, I’m quick to begin walking away. Cheesy grin on my face as I recall the interaction in my head despite it only happening seconds ago. I feel dizzy with excitement, my feet feel like they’re walking on clouds and I almost miss the shout from behind me as I go to turn the corner.

“Hey, do you wanna get high?”

[pricegouge]

🦋 here, I heard you want ppl to be horny in your inbox and that’s my specialty

In the spirit of Haul- rough fucking as punishment. Maybe doll tried to escape, maybe she backtalked a little too harshly, whatever. If we’re to the point she’s allowed out of the basement, she’s immediately getting dragged back down there for her punishment. I’m biased to say Simon would be the one most likely to use a particularly brutal fucking to punish his pet, but idk about you, so if you think one of the others would be more likely, do tell!

Anyway I leave you with the visual of poor Reader getting dragged by the hair to wherever the boys wanna take her and begging them not to be too rough because she’s still healing :(

Horniness in my inbox will always be encouraged, but yeah, especially tonight :)

Wrow, my first non-canonical little drabble for Haul. She's getting so big :') I'm a Price girly so normally I'd say it's him doling out punishment, but I can play nice with Simon if that's what you prefer

cw: hair pulling, non con oral, choking

It's Johnny's fault, really.

He never stops running his mouth - about what a bad cook you are, how the place is never as clean as when the last girl they brought home was in charge of it. How much you want his cock. Normally, it's easy enough to ignore him. The boys are never there long, their schedules always rotating, intertwining like cogs in a clock before spinning on out and away again. Off to god knows where, leaving you at peace for a day or two so another one could fill their spot.

Only, Johnny's been out with engine trouble, and you've been stuck dealing with him for two weeks straight.

In retrospect, you can't even remember what it was you said. Something about how he could stick his head in the oven if he wanted after he'd complained about it being dirty. Johnny whines, you grumble, and Simon's thick fist snags in your hair.

"Who you giving lip, pet?" he snarls and you cringe.

"Wasn't -."

"No? And telling Johnny to burn his hair all off i'n' givin' 'im lip?"

You don't bother arguing, too busy standing on your toes as you try to relieve some pressure from your scalp.

"'appen to like that 'air, pet. Don't want 'im burning it all off," Simon laughs. He pulls your head back and forth by your own hair, as if demonstrating why he likes the handle on Johnny's head.

"It's nice hair," you agree, hoping you can get away from punishment by simply playing nice. John is out today, picking up the slack from Johnny's busted truck. Usually, John's the one to handle your punishments so you can get away with more when he's not around, but Simon's really been taking his position seriously in the captain's absence, and you know you won't be so lucky when he just tuts at you.

"You'll have to be nicer than that." His casual tone does nothing to prepare you for the cruel way he yanks you back downstairs. You yowl, fingers threading through your own hair as if you can hold your scalp close to your skull. You stumble after him, falling a few times on the steps as he drags you below John's office. He does nothing to catch you beyond grip your hair tighter.

You don't realize Johnny's following until the door is snicking shut behind you.

"You gonna tell Johnny you're sorry?"

You do, immediately, falling to your knees despite how Simon still holds you up by your hair. Your knees hover above the tile, weight suspended at a sharp point on your scalp.

"Nicer than that, hen," Johnny grins. His fingers move to his waistband and your breath stutters out.

"Please, no. I said I'm sorry." Sometimes if you turn your pretty, pleading eyes on Simon he takes pity. No such luck tonight.

"Not yet you haven't." His fingers wrap around your jaw, thumb and middle finger digging into your cheeks until he can pry your mouth open, holding you like that lest you bite through the meat of your own cheeks.

Johnny's own thumb hooks your jaw even lower, his cock bobbing in your face as he fists his own base. "Not gonnae show me tha' cute little tongue, hen?" He asks, faux innocence.

Your eyes meet his for a moment, defiant despite your position. You loll your tongue out for him when Simon's free hand slides down to your throat.

"Tha's righ', bonnie," Soap sighs, easing himself into your waiting mouth. "You be nice and sweet for me, yea?"

Johnny's thick. One of the thickest you've ever had. It's taken practice but you accept him easily enough after a few experimental thrusts. Simon's palm tightens around your throat when Johnny slides home, and the smaller man groans.

"Feel that, love?" Simon asks, and you know by the tone in his voice he's not talking to you - too warm, too pleasant. Not for you. "Fuck my fist, Johnny, wanna feel it."

[the-s1lly-corner]

Various HH characters x autistic!reader

Prize 1/5 for @coldsushisworld ! I hope you enjoy!

This post includes: charlie, vaggie, alastor, Lucifer, adam, and lute

CHARLIE

Honestly I can see Charlie herself being somewhere on the spectrum! So she can relate to you in some way when you're having some struggles. Shes so so accommodating when it comes to your needs, quite literally bending over backwards to make sure the hotel is a safe space for you. Theres likely a sensory room somewhere in the hotel, where you (or really anyone!) Can go to unwind and just vibe. Protective of you, as she is with everyone else she cares about. You.. may have to get her to cool it if things get a little too heated. Warm and smells like apple pie, and I dont know about you guys but that's possibly one of the most pleasing and calming combos

VAGGIE

Very quick to shut things down if someone tries to get on your case for your needs for whatever reason, same goes for anyone who does it without intending to be harmful/doing it unknowingly. Shes your guard dog, and shes going to make sure you're safe mentally and physically. Likely stands trying to choose between different fidgets to pack for an outing trying to determine which one might come more in handy. Packs both. Actually she definitely has a pack somewhere for you that has a bunch of items to carry on you to help you out (water, headphones, ect ect). Despite that she does think you're capable and will step back if her worries cause her to overstep and make you feel bad. Vaggie does tend to have trouble gauging how much effort and feeling into things

ALASTOR

In the nicest way possible, he does not care. Obviously he doesn't care in the "I dont care that you're ND and I'm not going to avoid doing things that trigger you", it's a "I dont care because it is what it is", and besides hes got manners! Sometimes the static ambience around him can be comforting, like white noise.. sometimes he hums or softly plays music if you need something to focus on during an overwhelming moment. However if it makes things worse it's getting cut the second you say something. You're the only person allowed into his radio tower, if you need an escape

LUCIFER

As stated above I headcanon that Charlie is somewhere in the spectrum so he already has an idea of what to do to make things easier and more welcoming for you! Thankfully his home isnt too chaotic and he doesnt usually switch up his routine so if routines mean a lot for you Lucifer is your man! Puts his crafting skills to good use and makes you personalized fidget toys! He loves talking to you but if you need him to be quiet for a while he'll be understanding and work quietly on his ducks. Similarly to his daughter he doesnt let anyone try to make you feel bad for trying to tend to your needs. Though hes less of a pushover/holds his temper a little easier than charlie, but hes still quick to shut anything down

ADAM

In the beginning he can be a little.... how does one say this nicely? Not the best.. hes not at all educated so you're probably going to have to sit him down and find a way to get him to listen. Hes a little misguided when it comes to helping you moving forward but there is a new added effort in there. Takes you away from environments that are too overwhelming for you, or tells everyone to shut the hell up.. which might make things worse thanks to his shouting. He's got the spirit but his methods are not the best. His wings are soft and as long as you dont pluck anything out, he let's you run your fingers through his feathers. Would get sucked into those sensory and/or asmr videos with you

LUTE

I can see her being on the spectrum too tbh but I dont think shes aware, so anytime you try to bring up the possibility of her being ND she kind of just dismisses it. "Everyone does that," mindset. While she doesnt totally understand all of your habits and needs, she still does her best to make sure you're satisfied. She can be callous with others, often causing conflict to those who choose not to listen to an exterminator.. though to heavens citizens what status to exterminators have..? Shrugs. Shes a little.. tense? Harsh? No harsh sounds mean. Shes not used to being tender for someone else, so this is all a learning process for her.. its going to take a while before she grows accustomed to you autism or not.. but shes trying, because she does love you even if shes not used to these feelings!