#anon.🦌

[alwaysshallow]

when you're in the bathroom and whining about how you shouldn't and it's not okay and your protests getting weaker as he kisses at your jaw and throat, fingers back between your legs and all protest dies when he finally slips into you because your mind has been hazy since he started and you can't stop grinding against his palm because he got you so worked up. gripping his shirt tight to keep him close, his mouth pressed close to your ear as he calls you his pretty girl and his good girl, growling out the terms of endearment. and when he's had his fill of you — for now, once he gets you back to your apartment, all bets are off — and you make it back to your table, him right on your heels and not even cleaning yourself up terribly well and your boyfriend knows but he won't say anything. but his eyes never stray from the mark he can see on your skin, or the heated look of triumph from ghost, who doesn't bother looking away when your date looks to him. simon's just getting started, and he's gonna have so much fun — 🦌

anon??????? ANON

i don't think you understand, i just woke up and it's the best shit i've ever witnessed. simon, who knows very well that your boyfriend won't do SHIT. like. he's not dumb, simon would crack his neck with ease (and probably will.)

ghost is even fixing your hair right in front of him:) telling you're bit of a mess, smiling with such venom to your boyfriend. he doesn't react, at least - like he should - he just gulps and smiles awkwardly, looking at his meal, wanting to kill simon

but oh guess what. simon will kill him, not the other way.

[horrorlesbians]

"we saw you across the bar and really like your vibe"

[frogchiro]

EEEEEE okay so!!!! i am a massive enjoyer of a shy arthur who can hardly look his crush in the eye and softly say “hello, miss…” without blushing, so imagine how desperately hard his cock would be around her all the time!!!!!

like imagine him just staring at her longingly when she’s not looking and squeezing his cock through his pants for just a little relief… leaking an absurd amount of precum all the while…

then when he can’t stand the arousal anymore he abruptly gets up and leaves camp, trying to hide his huge bulge from anyone whose attention he might have attracted, and rides off into the woods to jack off to thoughts of reader’s cleavage <3

ALSO on the subject of lots and lots of precum… maybe something about arthur having the WETTEST of wet dreams about reader……

—🦌 anon ✨

Poor shy Arthur :(( He feels so...stupid for this. He's a fully grown man for Heaven's sake and yet he acts like a young boy around you, the newest addition to the gang, and, dare he say, the prettiest one yet.

And he gets so so shy around you too! Whenever you're helping with cooking or carrying wood for the fires around the camp or even cleaning your pistol and you catch his eye you always smile so brightly and wave at him! You're a much braver girl than he is a man, because the moment your eyes meet he's suddenly getting shy, tipping his hat at you with a quiet "Hello miss..." before he hurries away to do...business.

He's so pathetic :(( Inside his tent he has to be quiet while he jerks his heavy cock, large, heavy balls jumping with how pent up he is, begging to be emptied inside a tight, warm place, preferably your cunt. And he is leaky!! He leaks precum like a faulty faucet and curses because he feels like he's wasting it since it should be planted deep within you. He's getting older, he fears he won't be able to give you children if he waits too long :(

Or he rides out into the forest to jerk off, the memory of your perfect breasts almost spilling out from your open shirt today after you caught some fish and was still wet from the river. You were so proud of yourself, your satisfied smile while you handed off the large fish brought a smile to Arthur's face, thatta girl, good job.

He jerked himself silly and the luxury of being alone out here in the forest giving him n opportunity to be louder, almost as loud as he wants to be while he imagines fucking you well and deep, how well your tight cunt will surely feel around his cock, how you will milk him from his cum, your bright, beautiful eyes twinkling with love for your husband as you beg him to fill you up, to breed you - fuck.

That did it for poor Arthur and he came loud, thick sperm shooting from his aching cock and pooling at his feet. God almighty he feels dirty; like one of those awful perverted old fucks who always try to harass you whenever you're both in town but he just can't help himself :((

[stuffeddeer]

Dazai has calloused cold hands. Send Ask.

Hcs of Dazai with calloused cold hands | Bungo Stray Dogs | Dazai x reader

cheetozai you’ve done it again,, constantly raising the bar for the rest of us.. or however that video goes (found it)

A shiver runs up your spine. Behind you, Dazai grins mischievously, watching as you tense up and try to move forward and away from his touch. Cold is an understatement - the hands pressed against you are freezing. His touch is a bit rougher than he intends. While the touch itself is gentle, a soft brush over the bare skin of your back from underneath your shirt, the pads of his hands are calloused and rough leaving a slight scratchy feeling across the area.

You huff, turning your head to the side, glaring at him from the corner of your eye. “What are you doing?”

Pouting, Dazai gives you his best puppy dog eyes. “What? My hands are cold…”

“I can tell,” you scoff. “Get off!”

He gasps dramatically, hands still pressed against your back. “My, how cruel! You’d leave me to suffer with cold hands? You’d be so cold as to reject me after asking oh so politely for assistance?”

“Your hands are cold!” You grumble. “And you didn’t ask, you just put your hands under my shirt, weirdo."

needless to say he’s a menace.

Dazai will find any reason to constantly have his hands on you - holding yours, in your pockets, on your leg - to “warm them up” he claims

if you call him out, he’ll just whine and groan about how hard it is to have such cold hands all the time!!!! his body just doesn’t pump blood well enough to maintain decent body temperature :(

outside of using it as an excuse to constantly have his hands on you, he does genuinely struggle - keeping his hands in his pockets or sitting with them under his thighs for heat

and to scare people!!! he’ll just place his hand on Atsushi’s shoulder or grab Kunikida’s bicep when they’re unaware he’s behind them !!! he’s terrible and loves to laugh at others moving away so suddenly and shuddering at his jump scares

but also. the angst . Dazai who is touch starved :( thinking his ability is a curse and how this just further proves he shouldn’t touch anyone :(

and that is why he just grabs onto you at random 🙂‍↕️ so please endure!!! and maybe get him some gloves lol

[talesof-old]

literally anything with dad!james please he would be the best dad ever

- 🦌

james potter would’ve been the best dad ever 😔

pairing(s): dad!james potter x pregnant!reader

warning(s): reader is pregnant though it’s not the focus, james as a dad, reader is a mom, breakfast in bed, i picture harry being a very happy child okay, if you see any mistake no you didn’t

word count: 941

masterlist

“Shhh, we don’t want to wake Mummy up yet.”

You shifted in your bed, face pressed against the pillow. Faintly, you could hear the giggles of James and Harry, muffled by the closed door. You sighed. Sunlight filtered in through the gaps of the curtains, shining across your bed in brilliant beams. The clock on your bedside read: 9:28.

You rubbed your eyes, hauling yourself from the bed and shuffling into the bathroom. You were quick to finish your business, palm resting on your swollen stomach. In a few minutes, you’d managed to brush your teeth and straighten your hair, choosing to instead investigate the reasoning behind your husband and son’s laughter.

“No! Mummy…” The words were loud and petulant from your son, though James at least had the decency to wince. You frowned.

“You’re s’pposed to be in bed.” Harry was waving his arms about like you’d foiled their whole plan. You spared a glance at your husband, amusement already taking root. Both of them looked a mess, hair askew and clothes covered in flour. You crouched down, holding your arms out to your son. He humphed but complied, curling into your arms and nuzzling into your chest.

“Morning, Haz.” His response was quiet as he let you hold him. Four years old and already a carbon copy of his father, you were certain he’d give James a run for his money as he got older. Your heart pinched. Time had flown by so quickly. Your baby was already walking and talking and playing, and soon enough he’d be off to school. Tears pricked at your eyes but you willed them away, shifting your hold on Harry to pull him into your hip. Your back strained but you ignored the twinge. James pressed a kiss to your temple.

You raised a brow. “Breakfast in bed was the goal.”

Harry wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. You rubbed his back, rocking back and forth as you smiled.

“Should Mummy go back to bed then?” You poked Harry’s side. He giggled, swatting at your hand. “Yes!” You laughed, running a hand through his messy hair and kissing his forehead.

“Help Daddy, alright?” Harry nodded solemnly as you put him down. James’ eyes were soft as he regarded you, fondness oozing off of him in waves. You leaned forward, lips locking with his for a brief moment before you heard your son making gagging noises at the two of you. You pulled away with a mock sound of offense, chasing him back to your bedroom with the threat of tickles. Harry’s screams of laughter echoed through the house as you made your way back to your bedroom.

It was only once you’d settled back into the sheets that James called him to come back to the kitchen. The soft patter of his feet leading him away from you had your heart steadying. Your boys, however wild they were, never failed to want to spoil you.

The sound of plates clinking down the hallway had you grinning. James pushed open the door, bent over Harry, hands hovering over his to make sure he didn’t drop the tray. His still chubby cheeks were red and his eyes focused as he shuffled towards you. You cooed as James helped him set the tray onto your lap.

“You helped with this?” You made your eyes comically wide as Harry climbed onto your bed, kneeling on the blankets and grinning. “Obviously.” He shrugged.

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. Obviously. James rubbed the back of his neck and gave you a sheepish look. “He helped with the pancakes.”

And sure enough, the oddly shaped pancakes could’ve only been done by your four year old. “Are you sure? Looks like the pancakes you made me last Sunday.” James’ mouth fell open in indignation. Harry, using your distraction, took a quick bite of your muffin before shuffling to lay under your covers.

You rubbed his head. “Comfy, Haz?” He nodded, burying his face into the soft fabric of your pillow.

“I make pancakes wonderfully, thank you.” You hummed, grabbing the fork and taking a bite. James watched with bright eyes. You leaned closer to Harry, whispering, “I think you make them better than Daddy.” Harry’s giggles were muffled only by the pillow as James flopped down beside him. You kept a hand on the tray to prevent any messes.

“My own family has betrayed me.” He grabbed a hold of Haz, blowing raspberries on his stomach as he shrieked. Your cheeks began to ache from smiling, but god, did you love them. Harry wiggled from James’ grasp and jumped off the bed. You watched as he rolled and smirked at his father, goading him into a chase. James, never one to lose, not even to his son, was up in an instant. He chased him all throughout the house while you ate. While quiet mornings were few and far between, you couldn’t help the way your heart melted at the sound of your son’s laughter or the way James treated him with so much love.

The laughter dissolved and soon enough James was carrying Haz back to your bed. James’ voice grew loud as he spoke. “I’ve got my little traitor!” Your son flopped down, eyes shut as he caught his breath only to cuddle back up to you.

“I love you, even if you don’t like my pancakes.”

James kissed your forehead, cuddling up to Harry. You hummed.

“Don’t worry, honey. I love your pancakes.” James half-heartedly hit your shoulder with his pillow.

“There are children around!”

+++

[sematarygirls]

hi love! congrats on 1k! 🌼 pls! i'd love to see bambi!reader :)

 🦌 ⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ ─── introducing bambi!reader

kildare's sweetheart .ᐟ  doe-eyed girl.  1111.  old films. lace-trimmed dresses.  scented candles.  chess. classic fairytales.  pressed flowers.  vintage jewlery.  pink stationary.  baked goods.  heart locket necklace.  wicker baskets.  handwritten letters.  patchwork quilts.

.ᐟ    bambi!reader is the sweetest girl in kildare. she's soft spoken and shy, skiddish like a little deer. she's easily spooked and gets nervous very easily, small giggles falling past her lips when she starts to feel her skin heating up and the anxiety creeping in.

.ᐟ    bambi!reader is as sentimental as they get. she has a little box of all the birthday cards she's ever recieved, and she holds every gift she's ever been given near and dear to her heart. she loves giving the people she loves random little gifts and trinkets, whether it be a flower she picked on her way to see them or some baked goods she whipped up.

.ᐟ    bambi!reader is a master at chess. she picked it up playing with her father growing up, and she was fascinated by the strategy of it, the anticipation of your opponent's move and the reaction to what they eventually decide to do. you wouldn't expect it by looking at her, but she's surprisingly competitive.

.ᐟ    bambi!reader is a lover girl. she wears her heart on her sleeve and is often very trusting. she's a people pleaser that values how other people see her more than anything else, which often ends up in her getting hurt by people who take advantage of that. still, she continues to try and see the good in people, despite the pain it causes her.

             ୭ৎ bambi!reader works below .ᐟ

coming soon...

[idkfitememate]

Hello! I’m here to enter my thoughts for a deer! Creator! Reader in Sumeru! I know there’s tiger creator! Reader for Sumeru already but I feel like since nahida is so peaceful and kind she deserves an animal (even if only by isekai) buddy that matches her vibes because deer are usually symbolic with peace and stuff.

So deer! Reader starts out as a wittle ol’ fawn with gangly legs that they can’t seem to get the hang of at all. Teyvat helps their creator out with giving them food that they can reach out and nibble and it conveniently rains water in a small pool for reader to drink from. So they take the first few days easy trying to figure out how to stand and stuff. Everything is going well, all is peaceful and no one has tried to kill them yet. They could even stand on their stick legs for a full minute yesterday!

But that all changes when some sleazy treasure hoarders from Liyue decide they want to hunt for some easy grub as they smuggle expensive artifacts out of the nation. Sadly for deer! Reader, that means they want them on their dinner plates tonight. An odd choice, but right now you are easy pickings.

Teyvat is obviously not happy about this, so the rishboland tigers and birds near Gandharva Ville are trying to get Tighnari’s and Collei’s attention while small shrooms try and protect you. Though it is a slowly loosing battle.

Tighnari quickly realizes the wildlife is acting strange. His large fox ears help him pinpoint the problem and he rushes off into the forest with his bow. Collei quickly follows behind, although confused. They follow the roaring rishboland tigers to a secluded grove in the forest and find deer! reader an inch away from getting hit in the head with an arrow.

Both the tigers and the forest rangers are not happy.

Tighnari has no time to nock an arrow so he uses his dendro vision to slap the arrow out of the air. Deer! Reader is saved! The treasure hoarders are swiftly knocked out by Tighnari and Collei(with a few…casualties because of the tigers). They were going to be turned in to the authorities. But before they could do that, Tighnari and Collei had to figure out what to do with deer!Creator first.

They thought you were a normal wild deer that the rishboland tigers might have taken as one of their own by some miracle. So they tried to leave you be after they checked that you were unharmed but you were adamant about going with them.

You bleated and wailed pitifully, trying to stand on your thin legs only to topple over. Getting used to standing on four hooves was one thing but trying to walk was another. So you gave them your best baby deer eyes until Collei caved and tried to find an excuse to convince Tighnari to bring you with them.

She winged it and spoke about how your legs weren’t working properly. You weren’t standing and you couldn’t walk when it was obvious you looked a few months old. Maybe they should take you back to the village for better inspection?

Tighnari didn’t buy it but the sad look you were giving him with your droopy ears and (fake) teary eyes made him cave. He would break protocol just this once. He couldn’t leave a possibly sick baby deer all alone could he?

So he scooped your small deer body into his arms and set off for Gandharva Ville.

Little did he know you would refuse to leave his and Collei’s side afterwards.

—-

Sorry if it seems long! 😖 I just have so many deer! Creator reader brain rot ideas I want to share with you!

If it’s okay with you and no one else has taken it, could you call me 🦌 deer anon ?

Tighnari & Collei Encounter

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! Deer Reader x Tighnari & Collei

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 197

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Fluff

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : Never apologize for a long ask! It shows your idea in the fullest and I love it! ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა˖⁺‧₊˚

I’ll just pick up where you left off!

Now he had a deer in his office. Tighnari simply stared at your small body as you tried to stand. He honestly didn’t know why he allowed himself to take you.

(It was those stupid perpetually teary eyes of yours)

He stood and stared at you.

And you stared back.

And it continued like this for a least five minutes.

“… Mr. Tighnari?” Collei called out.

He only hummed in response.

“There are a bunch of Rishboland Tigers outside.” She said. And he sighed.

“I’m just going to assume it’s the ambush that was watching them. Just… inform everyone not to attack. They seemed relatively harmless and I’d like to keep it that way as long as possible.” He didn’t turn away from you and you didn’t turn from him.

“…Okaaayyyy then.” Collei said. She stared from the door before gently closing it.

The fox and the deer continued their staring contest.

Until you sneezed.

And threw your tiny head back, shaking your head with a surprised expression. You rubbed your nose a bit with your front hoof, your ears swinging a bit from the motion.

Tighnari suddenly understood why Collei was so keen to keep you.

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : Hehe little guy. While I think I’ll be keeping the Tiger!Creator cannon, I would adore to see more of Deer!Creator from you! Can’t wait to hear more!~ ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

Also fun fact! A group of tigers is called an ambush! But a mother tiger and her cubs is called a streak! ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა˖⁺‧₊˚

[deeranon]

Knife and Magic

Warnings: bit of angst, slightly rushed writing that probably isn’t too good, mentions of past harm, implied injuries, possibly bad grammar(English IS my first language)

Rollo X reader | synopsis: Rollo hides out at Night Raven College under the guise of strengthening the bonds with other magic schools after the country-wide epidemic that almost brought the end of the City of Flowers is looked into by authorities. The only problem is, no dorm will even house Rollo temporarily. Except for Ramshackle, that is.

---

Rollo knew his failed plan would backfire eventually. It was simply a matter of time. After all, a sudden surge of magic draining flowers overrunning the City of Flowers overnight and turning hundreds of normal people with magic temporarily powerless as their power was being eaten by the minute was no small disaster. A disaster like that was bound to draw attention from the neighboring kingdoms.

And attention was not something Rollo wanted or needed. So here he sat in a chair at Ramshackle dorm under the guise of “wanting to strengthen friendships with the magical schools that had attended the Masquerade after their help with fixing the disaster” while waiting for the commotion to die down in the City of Flowers.

It has been three weeks since Rollo first arrived at Night Raven College, and he hated every second of it. Everywhere he looked, imbeciles were throwing magic around like it was harmless.

Even now, the flaming eared headache known as Grim was using magic to play a silly game with the dorm ghosts. Magift, Grim called it as he gave Rollo the stink eye before running outside.

Rollo could only watch the stupidity with his handkerchief over his mouth, a habit he had picked up over the years.

A habit you were attempting to break with very little success.

As much as Rollo hated to admit it, you were a good host. Though you once told him that wasn’t a very hard bar to pass because you were his ONLY host. All of the dorms had fought against having to house him(well, almost all of them—but Octavinelle was never to be trusted) when a meeting had been held the day after he arrived, and because you were sick the day of the meeting and couldn’t attend they all pushed Rollo to you.

You didn’t complain too much about it after you had recovered(Rollo had enough ire for the leaders and dorm-vices about the underhanded decision for the both of you). When you were visiting the City of Flowers you had already invited Rollo to stay over if he ever came to visit, even after all the problems he had caused your group. (Malleus had not been in a good mood after he learned of this information, even though he tried his best to hide it, the weather told you all you needed to know.)

It was almost depressing, watching Rollo glare at Grim and the three ghosts through the window like they had egged the church and sprayed the walls with graffiti on Christmas Day. Despite the lesson that had been practically beaten into him by your friends(if you could even call some of them that) Rollo still saw magic as an ink stain on the perfect portrait that was humanity.

And to be honest, you were starting to get fed up with his preaching about how magic is still ugly and dangerous.

“Using magic to play a brutish game…how idiotic….” Rollo muttered under his breath as his purple handkerchief littered with yellow stars was pressed against his lips. You took a long sip of your tea(that Rollo had “secretly” made you). “Do they have any idea what they are messing with?” Your tea suddenly tastes just as bitter as Rollo’s emotions. You sigh, setting the warm mug with the words ‘most sane prefect’ on the front onto a coaster. You didn’t know how much more of Rollo’s depressed monologuing about the sin of using magic you could take.

The dusty old grandfather clock you had managed to fix with the ghosts help croaked miserably to tell you it was early evening, bringing you out of your thoughts about different ways you could work your ‘magic less-prefect magic’(thanks Ace) on the grey haired boy who needed therapy and a new haircut.

It was time to get dinner started. You hauled your exhausted body off of the plush navy blue couch you had claimed for an emergency nap earlier today and took a single step towards the kitchen before an idea struck you like lightning.

It was a borderline insane idea, but maybe it could work.

“Rollo, follow me.” You called, making the boy turn to you with a raised brow. He followed after nonetheless, pocketing his handkerchief the moment he turned away from the window.

The two of you walked in silence, a normal thing between the two of you. Though sometimes you worry Rollo gets stuck in his head still full of toxic ideals when there is too much quiet. Like right now, for instance.

You opened the door to the kitchen and held it open so that Rollo could pass through. Mentally, you were calculating what you should make for dinner and if your plan would work at the same time.

You gave your head a small shake. There was no backing out now. All or nothing, as they say.

You trailed a hand gingerly over the countertop as you walked around the island to the block of stainless steel knives Jamil had gifted you as an apology for his actions during winter break after seeing the previous state of your kitchen before the dormitory makeover.

You pulled one of the knives out of its slot and prayed Jamil would forgive you if he ever found out about what you were going to do.

“What is this?” You said, holding the large kitchen knife up for Rollo to see.

“A knife?” Rollo said wearily, because he just now realized he was alone in a kitchen with a person he had nearly killed along with their close friends.

“A knife. That’s right.” You nodded and whirled around, snatching a block of cheese and a packet of chicken from the fridge then a loaf of bread from the pantry, and an apple from an unsuspecting fruit bowl.

You dropped four pieces of bread onto the counter before pushing the loaf away in exchange for the cutting board where you set the cheese block and apple. Rollo stared at you, completely confused as you cut into the cheese while giving him a pointed look. “And what am I doing with the knife right now?”

Rollo gave you a weird look, glancing between you and the block of cheese as you cut out four slices before taking the shiny red apple and starting to peel the skin off with the blade. Rollo couldn’t help but notice how you pointed the blade toward yourself as you worked. “Peeling an apple…?”

“Right.” Was the one-word-reply you gave Rollo as you opened the container of chicken and set a single slice of cheese on every other bread piece before laying down a solid layer of chicken in the same fashion.

At this point, Rollo would be disappointed with himself if he didn’t realize that you were making sandwiches, thankfully Rollo was very aware of your sandwich-making actions and therefore did not feel disappointed with himself.

“Crust or no crust?” You said to him after placing the last two cheese slices on top of the chicken along with the top pieces of bread.

Rollo didn’t know why it mattered. “Crust.” He said, because the sandwich was already made. You nodded at him and then cut the sandwiches in half, pausing once again to look at him with those endlessly knowing eyes of yours.

“Toasted?” You questioned with such intensity Rollo felt like a criminal being interrogated by the police. Instead of giving you a verbal answer, Rollo chose to nod in agreement.

As expected, you slid the two sandwiches into the toaster oven and watched as the cheese slowly melted into the chicken and the bread turn crisp.

To Rollo, there was an awkward silence as you both waited for the food to toast. You made no move to set the knife down on the counter or start a conversation, only staring at the toaster oven with your startlingly deep eyes that Rollo thought held the secrets of the entire world and then some. Rollo didn’t try to start a conversation either, even as the silence rang quietly in his ears. It almost felt like he was standing at the top of the bell tower, looking down at the bustling city with only the wind and occasionally a moving gargoyle to fill the silence.

The toaster oven let out a happy chime as the timer hit zero and you reached out without a hint of hesitation for the sandwiches, nearly giving Rollo a heart attack when your fingers almost grazed the burning hot metal.

You set the sandwiches on plastic plates that had a flowery design to them, the peeled apple was then cut into slices and placed on a smaller paper plate.

You stared at the food, then back up at Rollo, knife still in hand. You held up a hand so that the palm faced Rollo like you were asking to hold something. Rollo shifted in place, gripping the starry handkerchief folded neatly in his left pocket with an almost anxious feeling as something changed in the air.

“Now what am I doing with the knife?” You said, and Rollo paused because you weren’t doing anything with the knife—

“What are you doing?!” Rollo screeched as he choked back a gasp when you raised your other hand and cut your palm until a trickle of blood weaved between your fingers and fell onto the kitchen counter.

Rollo rushed around the counter and snatched the knife from your hand, uncaring about the blood soaking into his handkerchief as he pressed it against the cut in your hand. “Why would you cut yourself, you fool!”

“To teach you a valuable lesson.” You said, wincing only slightly when Rollo pressed even harder against the wound with his handkerchief. Said male gaped at you like you had lost your mind, and you let out a small snicker at the face he was making. “The way I see it, the knife is the same as this world’s magic.”

“What?” Rollo truly thought you had lost your mind. Just what were you talking about?! You were spouting nonsense just like those wasteful magical buffoons! Now you let out a bitter chuckle, staring at the blood soaked cloth with an emotion Rollo could only guess was sadness.

“Let’s say the knife represents magic.” You said as tears from pain welled up in your eyes. Rollo had never seen you cry in the three weeks he had lived with you, and it was a horrible thing to see. His heart ached to see you smile, but he shoved the emotion down until he could focus on stopping the blood.

“I used the knife to make us those sandwiches. Then I used that same knife cut through my skin like butter. But I was the one who wielded the knife every time.” You looked into Rollo’s eyes and he couldn’t help but inwardly scold himself as his breath caught in his throat as he stared right back. Had you always been this attractive? Then, your words registered in his mind and it felt like he had been slapped in the face.

“What I’m trying to say, I guess…is that it’s all about how you use magic.” You gave him a smile so broken and yet so happy when you spoke Rollo felt his heart temporarily stop beating. You pulled your bloody hand away and walked over to the kitchen sink, and Rollo noticed how you just barely favored your left foot over the right but was too stunned to say anything about it.

“Almost anyone can wield magic here. But it’s all about how someone uses it that matters. I should know. I’ve been on the receiving end of it more times than I can count.” You bent down and took a first aid kit from under the sink with your free hand. Rollo saw a glimpse of a jagged scar wrapping around your ankle.

“Then isn’t that all the more reason I should hate it?!” Rollo snapped, angry and confused and a mix of more emotions he couldn’t identify. That he didn’t want to acknowledge because he knew exactly what they were but it just wasn’t right to feel this way right now…was it?

You shook your head as you ran your bloody hand under the faucet water, lettingout a hiss of pain. “You were angry at me when I cut myself, not the knife. It’s the person, not the object that matters.” That temporarily shut Rollo up. “Besides, I’m already on good terms with the people who wronged me. I’m not mad at them anymore.”

“So you were angry.” Rollo pressed as he watched you bandage your hand. You let out a sigh of pure exhaustion. Rollo wanted to apologize for whatever had made you so tired, even though he was likely the reason. But he didn’t. His lips were sealed with invisible glue he couldn’t peel off.

“I was angry. No one likes being hurt. The things they did…they were horrible and sometimes I’m still angry at them even though I don’t want to be. But that’s just a part of being human, Rollo. We make mistakes and do things and say things we shouldn’t when we’re angry and hurt.” You turned back to face him, voice shaky and eyes blurry with tears. “I’m sure you know that better than most. Knife and magic, Rollo.”

You walked past him and handed him one of the sandwiches before walking out of the kitchen. Rollo noticed a long, claw-like scar running along the arm that bled. His heart ached painfully.

“Knife and magic.”

@idkfitememate @libraryraccoon how did I do?

Wrote this in like—less than a week, I think? All for Rollo cuz I hope he comes home quick.

I’m saving for playful land Ace after Glomas no matter what but I’m hoping Rollo comes within 100 pulls because playful land could spring up anywhere anytime in EN.

Pspspspss Rollo come home

[thegnomelord]

The mental torment he inflicted upon me was a relentless dance of control and submission, a brutal symphony where I was both the performer and the instrument. Each command he barked was a note, each punishment a crescendo, and I, the loyal dog, played my part with unwavering fidelity.

He stripped away layers of my identity, piece by piece, until all that remained was a raw, exposed nerve, ready to be manipulated at his whim. Yet, in this abject humiliation, a twisted bond began to form.

Makarov’s neediness to have me by his side was not mere dependency; it was a testament to my worth, a confirmation of my nearly indispensable role in his grand design. I was his weapon, his plaything, a tool honed to perfection through suffering and subjugation.

And slowly, insidiously, I began to crave this validation, to see his cruel attentions as a dark reflection of love.

In his eyes, I found a purpose, however twisted. To be needed by Makarov was to exist, to matter in a world that had otherwise discarded me. His touch, whether a strike or a rare, fleeting caress, became a symbol of my significance. I learned to read his moods, to anticipate his desires, to see the flicker of satisfaction in his gaze when I exceeded his expectations. And in those moments, I felt a sick, desperate kind of joy.

Love, in the traditional sense, was a foreign concept to me now. What I experienced was a distorted echo of it, a love born from pain and nurtured by submission.

- 🦌🐇

(Hound has been in my mind for months and this had been sitting in my drafts, I wished to share this with you rather than it rotting in the drafts)

OOooh dude this is NEAT! I'm usually not a fan of first person but I see the appeal with this lol :Dd, I like the performer and instrument comparison you did for Hound, and making it come across just how dependent he is on Makarov, overall very nicely done dude! :Dd

[alwaysshallow]

price is my favorite i need to bite him like a squeaky toy and tear into him so i can get to his heart — 🦌

price loves to bite you playfully when you don't pay him attention:( he's like a needy cat that will do everything to have your attention.

you're working? he's biting your shoulder, asking when you're gonna take a break.

talking with someone over the phone? biting your fingers because he's soooo bored!! how dare you talk to someone else.

when you try to scold him that he's acting childish, he easily tosses you over his shoulder. biting your ass, he says "too bad I don't care" and he goes to the bedroom, to bite you some more and teach you a lesson.

[ohbo-ohno]

I love your works, especially the serial killer ghoap ones. I’ve had this thought on my mind for a bit. It’s not really dark, more fluffy(?) I just started playing ACNH again and it got me thinking, would serial killer ghoap let reader have a switch? I mean, poor reader has seen so much shit and needs at least a little bit of normalcy in their life. Ofc ghoap would monitor them while they played and such, which leads me to my next part. Let’s say reader has gotten stockholm syndrome and isn’t super phased by all the gore in stuff. Reader just sits in a little corner that maybe has pillows or blankets OR a cage that has pillows and blankets and shit like that. But reader just stays in that corner playing their switch while ghoap does their murder stuff. Idk, I feel it’d be a cute image. Ghoap just torturing someone while reader sits in a corner playing animal crossing. Sorry for rambling, I just really wanted to share this thought. Drink water and make sure to eat ❤️❤️❤️

someday i'll write the serial killer fic. i have a full outline of it. i have like 1k done. it EXISTS ok i PROMISE and i WILL post it. eventually

but in the meantime! questions are fun! (also tysm for saying you love my stuff, ily)

i think they'd absolutely let her have a switch <3 in exchange for good behavior

my reader inserts tend to be massive pushovers (mostly in an attempt to not give them so strong of a personality as to be distracting) but the serial killer girl is soft. i think the contrast of really rough ghoap with really soft reader is Primo.

but i also think ghost and soap would fucking eat UP having a soft little thing to take care of. i think this version of them would really get off on the corruption of it all, coming to their girl covered in blood and watching her try to keep her stuffies from getting stained red :( they loooove watching her get all teary and sniffly when they make her watch them torture people, love watching the way she tries to hide her pretty face :(

so of course they let her have a switch! they looove hearing her talk about all her little villagers, love when she tentatively shows them her new island setup <3

and that second part - do you know how hard johnny would get if he was torturing someone and saw his girl completely tuned out and just playing her little game? she'd be lucky if he didn't bend her over right then and there

[stuffeddeer]

okay but..... pathetic yearning beast!stalkerzai... he's so quiet abt his obsession with u making up any excuse to have u around for subordinate purposes and when ur not around him he makes sure he can still keep tabs on u AHHH hes so sad and so smitten

"pathetic" i dont need to hear any more. im on board.

The continuous knocking on your apartment door leaves you anxious, quickly pulling on a comfy sweatshirt before answering the door. A breeze flies into the room, causing you to shiver, before you make eye contact with,

"Why aren't you at work today?" Dazai crosses his arms, an angry expression on his face. Though, the pout he wears causes it to be less intimidating than he'd normally be.

You glance into your apartment briefly, still feeling chilly while exposed to the outside air. "Um... I don't work?"

"You always work."

"Right. Which is why I have today off." Awkwardly, you itch your arm. "Am I… needed, Boss?"

Dazai sighs before walking into your apartment (with no invitation) and closes your own door behind him. "You're freezing."

"I'm slightly chilled," you shrug, brushing off the notion. Any other subordinate wouldn't dare correct the boss of the Port Mafia, but he'd always been more lenient with you - supposedly because you ‘aren’t as dumb’ as the rest. "But that's what the hoodie is for."

Without another word, Dazai plops down onto your couch, making a show of looking around your apartment. It’s tiny - the whole thing barely the size of his office at HQ — and Dazai wonders if you’d rather move in with him. For more space, of course. And he guesses you’d be saving on rent that way, too.

“How do you know where I live?” You ask curiously. Sure, it’s probably somewhere in your files, but your boss never seemed like the type to care.

Shrugging, he murmurs, “It’s my job.”

You want to make this visit quick, but kicking out your boss didn’t seem like a smart idea. “Are you thirsty? Would you like a cup of tea?..”

Yes, Dazai wants to try your tea. Just because you’re his subordinate, and he needs to make sure it’s up to par. What if he needs you to serve tea to some associates in the future? “I’d love one.”

Biting back a sigh, you fill your kettle before placing it on the stove, watching as your old gas stove flickers on. Silence hangs between you two - you had no intention of carrying the conversation when he just barged in uninvited.

Dazai seems to have a similar idea, sitting laxly on your couch and waiting for his tea. You pour one cup, uninterested in making one yourself, before placing it on the coffee table in front of him. “Sugar? Milk?”

“This is fine, thanks.” He takes a sip. Heavenly, he’s sure. Well, all tea tastes the same, but something about it coming from your hands… delectable. It’s as though he can taste the love you must pour into every cup.

Mouth shut, you take a seat on the chair across from him. “May I ask, sir, why are you here? Am I needed?” The question is posed once again as you hope for a quick resolution. Kicking out your boss is wrong, but hopefully he’ll read between the lines and show himself out - the same way he showed himself in.

A long sip of tea permeates the otherwise silent room. He’s doing this on purpose, you’re sure of it.

“…I was worried,” he mumbles into the mug, sound muffled and quiet.

“Sorry?”

“You should be,” he replies, uninterested in repeating himself. “I needed you today, only to find out you vanished into thin air.”

“I didn’t run, if that’s what you’re implying,” your eyes narrow. You would not be mistaken for a traitor.

“No, no,” he grins. You were at your most entertaining when you became combative. Dazai much prefers you like this rather than subservient. “You took today off.”

Correcting the boss of the Port Mafia was risky, but, “You gave me today off. A month ago, after that mission, you told me to pick a day to relax.”

That’s… true. It was a strenuous mission, and while Dazai made sure to keep you out of the fray, he thought a gift like that would make you feel touched and indebted to him. Annoyingly, he’d nearly forgotten, since Dazai had planned on reneging at the last minute to trap you with him. For your work ethtic, of course.

A pout graces his lips, unhappy at your disappearance from his side. And that he had no rebuttal to it. “Well, I still need you. I made dinner reservations for two accidentally, and the restaurant is rather strict. You need to come with. The meal will be comped, of course."

“Sir, I don’t— “

“Don’t want your job?” His eyes narrow, pout vanishing immediately. You had to go along with it. “I’m sure you don’t mean that, over something as silly as a nice dinner.”

“...Of course, sir.” You tug on the strings of your hoodie, wanting to emphasize that you aren't exactly dressed for something 'nice.' "What time am I expected?"

Dazai has to stop himself from swooning. How adorable. Well, it’s not you that’s adorable, of course. It’s the juxtaposition of such n oversized hoodie on you that he finds adorable, not you yourself. Definitely. “We can leave now, actually. Get changed, please. I wouldn't say there's a dress code, but it's not a 'hoodie' establishment."

Rather than lashing out at him for the snide comment, you choose to bite your tongue and head into your bedroom.

Exhausted was too light a word to describe how you felt. Donned in a 'nice' outfit that was rather uncomfortable, you stood outside in the cold air and harsh breeze as Dazai suggested to the host to let him in. This bastard didn't have reservations for one, much less two.

After the manager is called over and recognizes Dazai, you're quickly ushered in beside him. Dazai pulls out a seat at a secluded table in the back, gesturing for you to sit. "Come."

Without a second thought, you sit in the very seat he'd pulled out, stifling a yawn as he pushes you in. You’re Dazai's best employee - he must keep you close at all times. Which is why he takes advantage of your position as his subordinate to orders you waste your day off in a fancy restaurant across from him. If you want time off of work, you’ll have to spend it with him - just so he can keep an eye on you, of course.

[holder-culture-is]

Newly diagnosed trauma holder culture and recently only learning you have a system and not knowing what all these terms mean after years of everything being thrown at the wall to see what stuck with doctors. What is an Endo? Why is Traumagenic (me or us) a term? Are diction alters real or not? And why can't I know my alters the way others seem to define them as separate people? I'm all blurry all the time. It's so overwhelming learning all this stuff. Is it a bad thing to still mostly use singular pronouns when referring to ourselves even though I've been told there are about 12 distinct personalities? Is 12 a lot? It feels like a lot. What about the fear of being called a chronic liar? Am I bsing if I only just came to a name for my system?

(Can I be called 🦌🦇 sys anon?)

Woah okay ‼️ you’ve probably found answers to this by now cause this has been sitting in the inbox so long, but let’s take it one step at a time ^^

What is an Endo?: Endogenic systems (or endos for short!) are systems that claim to be formed by something other than trauma . Many traumagens don’t believe in endo systems, including us, but I don’t wanna tell you what to believe ‼️ do your own research on endo systems and plurality (cause I think there’s a difference ?? Idk‼️)

Why is Traumagenic a term?: has a lot to do with those that claim to be endos being more common‼️ it was created as a way to differentiate , but if you (like us) don’t believe in endos, there’s really no reason to use it . You still can , though ‼️ not here to police you ^^

Are [f]iction alters real or not?: I’m 90% sure you meant fiction and not diction , so I’ll go with this one . What you’re talking about are fictional introjects , also called fictives or fictites ‼️ And in that case, yes ‼️ They are real :3 introjection is a normal human process, but with the compartmentalization that CDDs cause , it takes that to the extreme with introjects ‼️ Fictives specifically can form if the media is a major player in a system’s life , and the brain believes an alter with the traits of a certain character could help the specific situation ^^

Why can’t I know my alters the way others seem to define them as separate people?: For starters, recognizing alters as alters instead of fully separate people is actually really good for healing ‼️ (NOTE: if you see your alters as separate people, that’s not inherently a bad thing ‼️ the fact is though , they aren’t . I’m not going to tell you what terms to use for your system , and you’re within your right to refer to alters as different people ‼️ I’m just stating a fact :>) and about knowing your alters , that comes with time . We’re still trying to figure out all of us ^^

Is it a bad thing to refer to ourselves with singular pronouns?: No ‼️ that’s your choice , and whatever makes you most comfortable is the correct option :> we use plural pronouns because that’s more comfortable , but using singular is just as valid ^^

Is 12 a lot?: That really depends ^^ your brain needed 12 separate alters to survive your trauma , so by that logic it’s not ‼️ and even if it was , that’s not a bad thing ^w^ take your time with your system :3

What about the fear of being called a chronic liar?: Denial is a huge part of CDDs ‼️ they’re meant to be covert, so discovering them is usually very difficult . And remember , you and your psychologists a know your experiences the best . Listen to your doctors , and evaluate your own experiences . If you aren’t a system , there’s no shame ‼️

Am I bsing if I only just came to a name for my system? Nope ‼️ you aren’t even required to have a system name , it’s just something a lot of us do :3 and if you mean just figuring out your experiences had a name , you wouldn’t be in that case either ^^ Either way , you aren’t bsing anon :3

Whew, this was a long one ‼️ hope you’re doing better now , anon ! Ik this took a while to get to :<

[pjsk-headcanons]

Saki, mizuki, and Emu adore My Deer Friend Nokotan . They got Rui and Ichika into it too, and now one of them will randomly start singing the opening and the others will materialize out of nowhere to join in

-🌌🦌 anon (choosing this anon tag now.. it's fitting hehe)

.

[idkfitememate]

🦌 anon here. A though just came to me. And it’s really FUDGING adorable.

Deer! Reader is in the middle of a VERY LARGE sleep pile with her ambush. All 10 of them in a lump together with deer! Reader. The ultimate cuddle/sleep session. Only their tiny deer head is visible from beneath the massive amount of rust and cream colored fur.

Tighnari, Collei and Cyno watch in both shock and awe.

“Do we… help them???-“

“If we so much as touch them the Rishboland Tigers will kill us.”

The trio stood outside the large sea of orange and red with a dot of brown in the center.

This was Cyno’s first time interacting with you - even if you were asleep - and he wanted to memorable in the only way he knew how.

“At least it’s not a DEER-ire situation.”

“Cyno no.”

“there ANTLER we can do.”

“Cyno stop.”

“I sup-DOEs we have to leave this situation alone.”

“Cyno please.”

“I got one of the tigers to chuff.”

“…”

“…”

“…I will shoot you myself. Don’t test me.”

“… Then I suppose I must RISH myself goodbye-“

*The sound of a man being beat with an arrow. Not shot with, BEAT with*

“… A little help? I’ve been sucked into the ambush and I can’t get out… it is warm though…”

If you didn’t get the jokes (I’m tired they probably suck) here we go:

Dee-ire is supposed to be “dire”

Antler is supposed to be read as if it is “ain’t more”

Sup-does is “suppose”

Rish is meant to be “wish”

I hope that makes sense okay bye ໒꒰ྀི ∩ ⸝⸝ ∩ ꒱ྀིა

[deeranon]

Can you find your creator?

@idkfitememate you know that question I asked a while ago about the number of creators? totally didn’t mean anything lol

The canvas is pretty crowded but I’m happy with it. I had to miniaturize some creators though, cuz some were too large

I love those rough pencils, man

Also I didn’t realize the tiger creator was probably supposed to be a normal tiger until I finished

Wolflord had to go mini and pop up from a portal to fit lol, and the hydra was sentenced to a bucket. I’m so creative :) melusine was hardest to draw because of ELBOWS wait I take that back, the weasel was hardest-I could never get it right

Overall I’m confident about this drawing 😊

Plus there’s a special appearance in the drawing, can you find it? ;)

Posting from my iPad again, hope it works like last time