#bow tie (but evil)

[sorrowfulwill]

brothers

[pensat-i-fet]

[spookikookiboo]

Sunday

Lil Bill and Ford for the weekend!

~Spooki🖤

[evil-daily-ac]

i should ac tually draw the clones more

the tititular clones from hit au clone!void

names in order left to righ are YF void, pancreas, AP Abyss and sprinkle

[noretreatnancy]

Someone get the “I love you” Destiel meme out to announce that Tucker Carlson just got fired from Fox News

[jurassicjoowan]

Hazel, a bit of a bitchy gal, but also a hell of a tough nut to crack for any weaknesses. She thinks that low brow is gonna intimidate Brows.

[oldlovecassette]

get back ruled btw. i already assumed it would based on when i began it back in january (lol) but now that i’m done it’s confirmable. it takes whatever you think the beatles are in your mind/the collective mind of the world and tosses it in the garbage, then builds them back up again. it needles away at whatever icon worship fans are coming into it with, or whatever skepticism & misconceptions non-fans are bringing to the table, and lays out all the hyper-specific, weird, funny, cool, boring, and uncomfortable parts of the band. COVID, the economic turmoil of the 2020s and the over-saturation of social media have put us at a crossroads in our tolerance toward celebrities and get back was super smart about taking the approach that these were just four 20-somethings who got lucky as many times as they made their own luck. huge slay 9/10

[multifandomfanatic02]

"You Don't Own Me."

pairing : Alastor x overlord!reader

summary : A new overlord has came to play in Hell, you. Alastor took notice in how many souls you've accrued in such a short time. He has to let you know where you stood in the overlord hierarchy, however things don't go the way he originally planned.

warnings : slight blood play ig? Idk. Author trying to edge the reader :)) not proofread

word count : 900

You hadn't been in Hell for long but it felt as if you belonged. It didn't take long before you started catching the hearts of the sinners. A lot happily giving up their souls to simply breathe the same sulfuric air as you. The way you used these souls was unique. You weren't mean or evil in anyway shape or form. In fact, you were often seen as an inspiration.

The overlords in Pentagram City were a different story. None of them liked the way you shot up the hierarchy without even trying. Instilling fear was what got them where they were at and they weren't going to give up their seat to a goody-two-shoes like you. Your methods interested one overlord in particular, Alastor. Despite literally being stuck in the past, he was quite the open-minded demon.

He didn't know whether or not to applaud you or challenge you. Your talent would be useful. He wanted you for himself. And for years he fought to claim your soul and make a deal. And not once out of the hundreds of proposals did he convince you it was a good idea. The two of you slowly started to develop a strange relationship. Nothing romantic but there was definitely tension. While he didn't own your soul, you were often in each other's company.

It was like mutualistic relationship. He staved off the overly pushy overlords constantly offering you a job; jobs that would obviously make you uncomfortable. In turn, you offered your assistance in a lot of his business. It came with pros and cons like any other agreement. He was extremely possessive of you. You were treated like precious property. You had enough. There was no reason for this behavior. Typically it didn't bother you, but something snapped.

"Alastor. You do not own my soul. I'm not property that you can toy with. I should be allowed to go wherever I please." You crossed your arms in frustration hearing him explain why he didn't want you in the Vees territory.

"Darling, you know I hold you with upmost respect. It's got nothing to do with you being property. I understand you are immune to Vox's hypnosis spell. It's not him I'm worried about. My worry is of Vox's plaything, Valentino." He gripped your wrist, leaning ever so slightly to place a kiss on your knuckles. "Understand that you are a sight to behold in the entirety of Hell. Valentino, is not honorable in his job as I, my dear. Without the proper protection, you might as well be an easy target." His breath ghosted your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

It's like he forgot who you were, what you were capable of. It was time to show him how that talent of yours has affected him over time. And trust when you say, it did.

"Oh Alastor, I think you forget as to how I became an overlord in the first place. The feminine charm that you oh so fear backfiring on me is why you have been by my side after all these years." You wrapped your fingers around his bow tie, pulling him down to your level. An enchanting smile creeping up on your face as Alastor's expression glitched out from the bold action. The other hand running through his hair making him let out a soft purr. His eyes focused on yours trying to determine your next move before you could decide.

To his surprise, you gently pressed your lips against his. His head was dizzy with confusion and guilty enjoyment. Your lips trailed down his neck, biting down a bit. Enough for his blood to trickle down. Your hands were now trading between playing with his hair and drawing small circles on the back of his neck. Your lips returned to his, smearing the blood from your tongue as if it were a beautiful crimson lipstick. The poor guy was so touch starved, he gave in to the sudden intrusion of affection. He couldn't do anything but allow you to press his buttons.

Your tongue ran over your lips, swallowing whatever blood was left on them. You took a step back to view the obvious mess you've made. Alastor's eyes were dazed as if he was in another world. His face beet red nearly matching the color of his suit. It was such an unusual sight to see on him. And you managed to do it.

"My my, Alastor, you look like you would be willing to sell me your soul just readingthe look on your face." You held your hand to your lips to cover the laugh attempting to escape. "How the tables have turned, dear." A joke of course, he would never actua-

"Yes." His ears dropped to the back of his head, still standing at your level. No sign of humor on his face.

"I'm sorry, what?" You blinked dumbfounded, mouth agape.

"I will give you my soul, but only if I'm the only one to experience that from you." Your face flushed from his proposal. Alastor had actually submitted to you because of a single kiss? But it wasn't JUST a kiss to him. It forced out desires he had been holding in for a long time. Now more than ever was he determined to have you be his. It didn't matter as to how anymore.

"You've got yourself deal, Al."

a/n: I know this one is short, it was more of an experiment because of a dream that I had. However if you like this concept, I'd be more than happy to build upon it in the future.

[metalmiez]

It was a beautiful day

The sun had been shining all day and warmed the air to a cozy temperature.

„More wine, my dear?“ Aziraphale asked lazily and turned his head to the slender figure next to him. Crowley had been basking in the sun for the past thirty-ish minutes - keeping his eyes closed and enjoying the warm light, leaned back on his elbows. Aziraphale had been reading meanwhile, laying on the blanket they had spread out on the grass.

It was calmingly silent on top of the hill, the breeze soft and the ocean in eyesight. Not a single soul out here but an angel and a demon, who had been enjoying a rather lovely picnic earlier that afternoon.

Crowley slowly opened his eyes and peeked through half-closed lids to the angel next to him. Aziraphale had put his book aside and held out the bottle of red wine they had brought with them.

“Nah.“ He declined and gazed at his angel instead. He couldn’t fight a fond smile creeping up his demonic lips as he watched Aziraphale put the bottle back into the basket. It was such a rare sight, seeing him without his bow tie, sleeves of his shirt rolled up to the elbows and his collar unbuttoned. Almost scandalous, for Aziraphale‘s standards.

“You look gorgeous today, angel,” Crowley smiled and watched Aziraphale blush.

“Oh, you old charmer!” he replied with pink cheeks, avoiding Crowley’s gaze. He fiddled with his ring, peeking at the demon every few seconds.

“And you, my sweethaert, look stunning - as always.”

Now it was Crowley who blushed and frowned by the pet name Aziraphale had started to use lately. He shouldn’t feel so flustered by that, he was a evil demon after all! But pride was a sin, so he let it slip. A little ‘Mrm’ sound left his throat.

Aziraphale laughed and leaned over to him, pressing a tiny kiss on the demon’s cheekbone. Crowley grumbled quietly, but still leaned into the soft touch. He was growing rather soft to the angel’s affections lately, and it got harder and harder to keep up the cool masquerade of mystery. When Aziraphale retreated, the demon huffed oh so little and reached out, trapping the angel’s chin between the fingers of his right hand. A little gasp fled Aziraphale’s throat as the demon pulled him back. Golden eyes met grey-blue ones, and the angel blushed again like anything. But he smiled as endearing as only Aziraphale could. A little mischief twinkled in his clear eyes before he closed them and leaned forwards the last bit, tenderly pressing his lips on Crowley’s.

The demon couldn’t resist the little smile as he watched his angel’s face closely, savouring his tender expression. His fingers stroked Aziraphale’s soft jawline, before cupping his face with his palm and closing his eyes, letting himself fall into a soft kiss.

This was the life he never dared to dream about. And still, here they were.

And that was everything he ever wished for.

[jagermancoded]

i love this show sm

[Image description containing spoilers for the Starkid show Nerdy Prudes Must Die:

1. Max Jagerman and Grace Chasity standing extremely close, staring intensely at each other with a news headline above reading “I CAN FIX HIM” SAYS WOMAN WHO IS WORSE

2. Richie Lipschitz sitting with a caption reading *ENTERS WITH A BAD POWERPOINT ANIMATION EFFECT* “HELLO”

3. Angry Max Jagerman back from the dead looking like a zombie with a tattered letterman jacket and blue veins on his face and neck and a caption reading I MEAN YEAH HE’S EVIL BUT WHAT IF I WERE HIS FAVORITE

4. Grace Chastity, Steph Lauter, and Peter Spankoffski on their knees huddled around a book with a glowing green light in the background and scared expressions on their faces. Caption reading LEARNS FORBIDDEN KNOWLEDGE ON ACCIDENT

5. Steph Lauter dressed in a mid length red dress and Peter Spankoffski in a blue button up shirt, red bow tie and khaki pants standing next to each other looking off camera with the caption HE’S NOT “JUST SOME GUY” HE’S MY GIRLFRIEND

6. Peter Spankoffski gesturing with his hands out by his torso looking off camera. Caption reading SHE LET ME HIT BECAUSE I SAY STUFF LIKE GOODNESS GRACIOS

7. Grace Chasity smiling widely with an index finger innocently pressed into her cheek, caption reading I AM FINE THANK YOU FOR ASKING! THOUGH RECENTLY THERE HAS BEEN A DARKNESS GROWING WITHIN ME

8. Max Jagerman and Grace Chasity standing next to each other, intensely looking at each other. Max looking aggressive and Grace looking appalled. The caption next to Max saying *SIGHS DREAMILY* WHAT A FUCKING WEIRDO. and the caption next to Grace reading *TWIRLING HAIR* WHAT A FUCKING FREAK

End of Image Description]

[postersofleon]

Honey Has Value

In Leon's first mission, everyone warned him about the merchants that come every once in a while during dangerous situations. Nobody knows them. But everyone trusts them enough. Even Krauser, who was very sensitive in whom to trust with his weaponry. The merchants are the most chaotic neutral people who would sell to any person who had enough gold or anything in value. During one of his missions, Leon finally saw one of the merchants.

content: smut

notes: pre resident evil four; afab fem!reader; he forgot to socialize thanks to working in the military; reader is pretty femme by wearing a black dress; sexual frustrations coming from leon; small mentions of rotting flesh, leon is an awkward flirt; guys, even though i write smut, i hate booktok, does that make sense or i'm giltching in the system. smallish smut, little story.

taglist: @argreion

Leon could believe in Umbrella's cruel experiments. He had seen these monsters who are kindly called bioweapons, and even though Leon isn't forced to fight against them. He sometimes saw the creatures they turned into, and that was enough for a young rookie cop to see. He then had to mistrust his own government for wanting to harm a young child. Leon panicked and immediately a blackmail was tied around his throat.

A perfect noose around him. A traumatized man can't go back to his old life. Leon had to help a girl he barely saw in the tragedy of Raccoon City.

All because of his stupid want to help people. He was sinking in this damn hole depression, and he wasn't even allowed to go to therapy. When he was excited to talk to Claire, she wasn't there because she was still searching her missing brother.

Leon was alone. Leon didn't even have time with Sherry.

He believed in all of these faults of the world. It was a nasty cruel world that could barely be saved. Leon didn't even save Sherry. That was thanks to Claire. In that night, he didn't save anyone, and he trusted a bad person who fell to her death. Every inch of Leon's body knew guilt, the disappointment of the world, and bioweapons.

But why couldn't Leon didn't believe in this random ass Merchant? Merchants sounded like scumbags and fake to the bone yet everyone in his section of soldiers swore up and down that they are real and good enough.

They only appear in missions. The government doesn't pay for them to help. And none of them are the same person over and over. One had a handsome man with a bow tie; another had an elder woman, and lastly, Krauser even said he had dealt with a pair of twins. That's what made Leon struggle to believe this was real.

None of these people were truly scared to show their faces, but they all had the same name of merchant.

They had no true agenda. No sense of good or bad.

Leon hoped to never see them in his own missions. He didn't care if they had helped them before, Leon wasn't interested in them no matter how much.

His mission was down south. He had to learn Spanish in case the issues came to his language, but he knew the main part of the mission. A couple of normal soldiers came here, and we were murdered by a couple infected by the T. Leon was the next best option.

And Leon came ready. If a merchant was going to be there, he'll ignore them, no matter who it is.

Once he entered the place, it was a lonely village that was nearby an Umbrella lab, so he had already concluded who was going to be here. His heart beaten fast when he saw a person infected by the T. A poor woman whose skin was rotted away. Leon killed her without a second doubt. Even if Leon had the cure in his hand, he wouldn't want to use it on her, especially with the heat of the brutal summer.

Not only was her skin rotted. There was hole in skull that he didn't even make.

"How unfortunate," Leon immediately turned to whom it belonged to, "Seeing death is always unforgivable." A woman with a black dress was behind a desk of items. Due to the circumstances, she was hauntingly beautiful with the death surrounding her. It took a moment for Leon to realize it. She is a merchant.

"Hi, stranger." She smiled politely at Leon.

"Hi." Leon said firmly.

She played with string of pearls around her neck, "I'll be helping you with.... your situations." She seemed so nonchalant, her voice was relaxed as if the danger could never harm her.

"Situations..." Leon looked around her store of items. She had almost everything in this little place, a small box with a strange symbol planted on the center. "I'm sure you are betting for to get into those situations." Leon muttered. But she shook her head. It was almost automatic.

"Goodness, no!" She exclaimed loudly. "My services are here to help you. To assist you." She placed her gloved hand between him and her. "May I? Free of charge."

There was a silence between them. Begrudgingly, Leon handed his gun to her, "Careful with it." He muttered.

She grabbed the gun, "SG-09 R. Quite impressive." She clocked it and checked the modifications in the gun. "Fast, strong, and made by Kendo." She pointed the gun towards a section and shot a glass bottle. "But I can make better. Especially with the control of the government." She broke up the gun and grabbed a small bottle of oil to ease up the details of gun. "Do I permission to change the glock?"

Leon nodded his head.

The merchant got into work, she brought out the small tools to work on the gun, and changed very small details of the gun. After a couple of short minutes, she twirled the gun back into place. "Here you go, stranger." The merchant handed the gun back to its owner.

Leon lifted the gun and noticed the differences. She didn't change the drastic differences of the poor gun, but it made it functional for the monsters. He pulled on the trigger and shot the a piece of wood. The gun shot faster.

She grabbed a rag and cleaned her gloved hands. "It's easy as they come." She smiled. Her fingers returned back to her pearls, dragging the details bit by bit. "I love helping the new."

Leon wished he was normal. His dumb mind entered cave man for like three seconds. Maybe it was the small praise he got from her or how the merchant spoke to him without belittling him. He felt his cock twitch, "Yeah, thanks." He awkwardly put his gun back to its holster.

He promised himself the less impossible thing ever. Leon was spending a lot of time with the merchant, he saw her how her knife formed small knick knacks from wood. "Look." The merchang leaned to show him. It was small wooden figure of him. Leon took in a sharp exhale.

"Nice." He whispered softly.

"I give them to the other merchants so they can sell them." The merchant smiled. Her painting was very gentle, every brush was made with love. "Why sell them?" Leon asked. "It's like discount. If you have this." She lifted a small shield-like charm, "You'll have an upgrade with any merchant."

"Oh, that's great." Leon eyed her face, "So, if another merchant sees it, they'll automatic give you that help."

The merchant smiled, "Exactly." She continued the paint and Leon was just looking at her, "So, what perks will I get if I buy my small keychain?" He whispered softly. The merchant sighed softly, "Mm, well, how about 30% off when I fixed that knife of yours."

Leon nodded his head as he continued to look.

As time passed and such, Leon did his job and then immediately went to her section to 'buy' stuff. All that time of bothering the merchant, he finally got what he wanted as she pumped his cock.

She was on her knees as she pumped his cock into her mouth, Leon's hips moved up, "Fuck." The merchant rubbed the red tip and sucked it gently. He needed this after so long. Leon's hands covered his face, his cheeks were red and he was ultra sensitive over everything. The merchant rubbed Leon's tip around her lips and left his pre cum around them.

He chewed on his lips trying to keep quiet in case an infected could find them. The merchant's hand pumped his length, "I do the first time free." She teased him. Her hand slide down his cock and massaged his balls. He didn't know if she spoke the truth, but he was willing to pay for this again. The merchant's tongue dragged against his shaft and kissed the tip. "Just fuck me. Please."

The merchant shook her head, "You'll need your energy for the fights." She looked at his cock and placed his needy self inside of her mouth. She gagged weakly, his hips weakly moved against the merchant's mouth. He needed to cum and go back to work. His hands traveled around his pecs and squeezed them, he noticed the merchant noticing those details. Leon blushed but didn't stop himself as he played with nipples.

Flicking them a bit trying to help the simulation. She bobbed her head faster and he groaned. "Fuck, fuck-" His cum erupted into the merchant's mouth and it slowly fell out, she licked the mess without an issue. Leon groaned loudly feel his body relax bit by bit. His eyes completely soften and gently caressed her face, "Mm, thank you."

When Leon was back on his feet, he felt her hands smoothing out the wrinkles of his shirt. He felt too easy, but he liked her touch.

As the sun set above him, the merchant waved politely a goodbye to Leon; He simply nodded his head, his legs were a bit weak, but he had to go back to his job.

The next time he was with the Merchant, he was between her dress. He licked her pussy, his hands opened her thighs to shove himself deeper. Her cunt was keeping him sane after the brutal fights, her hands grabbed his hair and pulled his straight blond hair. Leon growled weakly, "Please, I just need your cum." No extra steps, he wanted it. His tongue moved around her clit and once he heard the merchant's moan he focused on it more.

His fingers shoved inside of her pussy and pumped them in and out. His tongue licked the wetness that poured into his hand. His finger curled up and fucked her up. The merchant's legs squirmed around Leon. He licked up the pretty hole and removed his fingers again, her thighs clenched around his face as he fucked her with his tongue. Flicking it over and over, he pulled it out and sucked her clit. She groaned loudly, her legs opened a bit, and Leon kissed her thighs over and over. The merchant released, Leon's fingers rubbed gently her cunt and licked the mess.

He was thankful for the merchant's services.

[rentumblsstuff]

NPMD!Steph: I asked Pete to Pasquali’s on the first date.

AC!Steph: I asked Pete to shower with me.

YJ!Steph: Who the fuck is Pete and why are we thirsty for him? Get a grip, ladies.

NPMD!Steph: Okay, okay, imagine the biggest nerd you can think of?

YJ!Steph: Oh the bow tie kid.

NPMD!Steph: That’s him.

AC!Steph: But then also like make him funny and sarcastic.

NPMD!Steph: Yeah! And sweet.

AC!Steph: And weirdly sexy and secretly jacked and you just kinda wanna break his brain so that the only thing he can think about is pinning you to the wall of the shower even though it’s nasty, so-

NPMD!Steph: Wait the other one is right. Get a grip. Please.

AC!Steph: *shaking* I’ve been stuck at Camp Idontwannabang for a month and he’s the only sane one here other than me. There’s only one thing I’m trying to ‘get a grip’ on around here, and it’s down the shorts that his ‘Virginity Rocks!’ camp tee is tucked into.

——

AC!Peter: I broke my leg trying to improvise a weapon to protect Steph and myself.

NPMD!Peter: I almost sacrificed my life for Steph!

TGWDLM!Peter: I STILL HAVEN’T GOTTEN MY HOT CHOCOLATE.

AC!Peter and NPMD!Peter: NEITHER HAVE WE!

TGWDLM!Peter: Also who is Steph and why are we willing to hurt ourselves for her?

AC!Peter and NPMD!Peter: *OFFENDED GASP*

AC!Peter: Imagine you have really low blood sugar and all you have to fix it is fuckin’ raisins… And Steph gives you a chocolate bar. Relief, finally, you can think straight for what feels like the first time in your life. That’s Stephanie.

NPMD!Peter: Imagine an eldritch god tells you that you have to give up what you treasure above all else and you suddenly realize in the worst way possible that your Pokémon cards and comic collection mean nothing to you in comparison, and as weirdly slimy and wiggly fingers brush the hair from your neck, you realize that the girl who’s suddenly become the most important person or thing in your life thinks of you the exact same way and that one of you has to die before you’ve even worked up the nerve to admit to the coolest girl you’ve ever met how you feel. That’s Stephanie.

AC!Peter: … Are you okay?

NPMD!Pete: Better than that guy’s doing.

BF!Pete: I watched a man get kicked in the head until he died… I can still see the bomb falling through the air as I spent my last moments alive with my big brother…

——

NPMD!Grace: I can explain!

AC!Grace: YOU HAD A SEXUAL FANTASY?!

PB!Grace: NASTY!! JAIL FOR YOU.

AC!Grace: HELL EVEN.

NPMD!Grace: Wait, no no no! It’s okay, I killed the guy it was about!

AC!Grace: You better have!

NPMD!Grace: But then he came back to life and I had to sacrifice my chastity to send him back, so we had sex in the middle of a football field and five evil gods dragged him to Hell! Also by the way, Jesus isn’t real and it’s up to us to cleanse the earth of all perverts for our new gods, the Lords in Black!

AC!Grace and PB!Grace: …………… WHAT THE FU-

[serickswrites]

When in Rome

Warnings: capture, public humiliation, torture, restraints, whipping, blood, unconsciousness, bedside vigil, defiant whumpee

"I can be a kind and benevolent ruler," Whumper said as they circled their captives. "I think you will find I am a much better ruler than your former monarch."

Caretaker hated listening to this. Hated that they were all in chains while Whumper and their traitorous band walked free. But worst of all, they hated watching Whumpee struggle in the chains that had been thrown on all of them.

"The only thing you are capable of is evil," Whumpee hissed.

"You could give me a chance, Whumpee. If you give me a chance, if you bow, the others will follow suit. So many subjects have already pledged their loyalty."

"I'd rather die." Whumpee thrust their chin out.

"Whumpee, you were your former ruler's most trusted warrior. If you bend knee, needless violence will be avoided. Surrender and pledge fealty or you shall suffer greatly." Whumper's kind, gentle tone began to fray. Their true nature slowly eating away at the facade that Caretaker knew they were putting up.

"Death first!"

"That can be arranged." Whumper said with a sigh. "Tie them to the pole in front of the castle," they ordered one of their minions. "And take the others with you. I want everyone to see what happens when you do not conform to my law and order. What happens if you defy me."

Whumpee struggled valiantly against the many hands that grabbed them. Caretaker tried on their part, too. But it was to no avail. Whumper had too many followers at hand to fight. The rest of their squad was hauled along with them to the castle square.

"Whumpee, Whumpee, whatever they are planning is far worse than surrendering," Caretaker tried to reason with Whumpee. They could not stand to watch Whumper butcher Whumpee.

Whumpee shook their head, drawing themself up to their full height, head held proud. "If we give in we are complacent with whatever atrocities Whumper commits. The people need to see that some one is willing to stand up in the face of evil."

"You will be killed, Whumpee. Please," Caretaker tried again.

"Then that is the price I pay. I will not bend knee to evil. I will stand strong. Perhaps my death will be what one person needs to realize they must fight. That they can fight."

Caretaker opened their mouth to reply, but Whumpee was pulled away as the group reached the central square. A tall post had been erected in the center atop a tall dais. Whumpee was hauled roughly up the steps and chained with their arms above their head, back to the crowd.

"Citizens, gather round," Whumper said as they climbed the steps of the dais, "and see what it means to refuse me." Whumper held a whip in their hand. Caretaker's mouth went dry.

"I am a benevolent ruler," Whumper said as a hush fell over the crowd, "and I will give you one more chance, Whumpee. Swear fealty and you will be spared."

"I will never bow to you. No matter how much you hurt me, I will never bow before you." Whumpee spat at Whumper, their contempt and intentions clear.

"So be it, then. We will start with ten lashes and see how you feel." Whumper raised their arm and brought the whip down across Whumpee's back. Whumpee's skin split and flowed from the wound.

But they did not cry out.

With each crack of the whip, Caretaker flinched. With each crack of the whip the fearful faces of the crowd became more apparent. And with each crack of the whip, Whumpee's blood flowed, but they did not cry out.

After the tenth crack, Whumper stopped. "Anything you wish to say, Whumpee?"

"Fuck you," Whumpee said weakly.

With a growl, Whumper raised the whip again. "Such insolence shall not be tolerated."

Caretaker lost count of how many times Whumper brought the whip down. They lost count of how long Whumper whipped Whumpee after Whumpee went limp in the chains as they slipped into unconsciousness. They lost count of how many times they begged for Whumpee's life. Because they could only see Whumpee's limp, bloody body slumped over at the whipping post.

"Throw them in the dungeon with the rest of their squad. Offer them no aid. See if that's enough to change their mind," Whumper said when they finally grew tired of whipping Whumpee.

Caretaker didn't fight as they were dragged to the castle's dungeon. They watched in horror as two men grabbed Whumpee by the arms and roughly dragged them along to the dungeon. Whumpee didn't so much as groan or raise their head as they were dragged along.

"Whumpee, please, say something," Caretaker said as they were all tossed in the dungeon.

Whumpee had landed in a heap and hadn't made a sound. "Whumpee, please," Caretaker tried again. They weren't sure where they could touch Whumpee without causing further injury. They lowered themself to the ground next to Whumpee.

Whumpee's eyes were closed, but they were alive. Caretaker could hear their short, pained breaths as they got close to Whumpee. "Someone bring me some water from that bucket." Caretaker ordered. "We need to clean their wounds."

Whumpee didn't wake the whole time the squad cleaned and dressed their wounds. They didn't wake as the squad tried to lay them in a comfortable position gently. And they didn't wake as Caretaker stroked their face and murmured soft words to them.

Caretaker sat in the dark dungeon hoping Whumpee would wake soon. They stroked Whumpee's sweat soaked hair. "Please, Whumpee. Don't do this. Please, just wake up. We can come up with a plan. Please, Whumpee. Don't make us watch you die, too."

But still, Whumpee did not wake.

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

[maddyguru]

Hello, Again (geto s.)

Synopsis: after leaving you for 10 years, you met your older brother, Suguru again. But it wasn't the happy reunion that you were hoping for. In fact, this is the beginning of your hell.

Tw: dark content, public humiliation, r word in front of public, sibling incest, non con, loss of virginity, brief mentions of ptsd, brief mentions of killing, geto is crazy (everybody knows this), SPOILER, forced pregnancy, unwanted pregnancy, breeding kink (not detailed), hate speech bc geto hates monkeys, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

You woke up to the sound of chatters and whispers. What baffled you was the pitch-black sight. As if you're in the basement with no source of lights as your guides. Another thing you noticed was that your hands were behind your small back, tied together with ropes.

Ropes? are you abducted?

"Hello, everyone. Today we welcome the arrival of this young girl."

Your eyes, behind the cloth of the blindfolds, were wide open as the realization hit you. That voice- you know whom it belongs to;

It was Suguru Getou's. Your older brother. Your long-lost, older brother.

Your lips are trembling at the sound of his voice. It's been ten years. Ten fucking years since you last saw him. You were just eight years old when he left you. You're just a little kid growing up in the neighborhood of Tokyo. Just a girl with ordinary life, loved by her parents and brother. Brother,

You cackled softly. Does the man really love you? Considering how he was the one who made you suffer, the one who destroyed your life. The one who made you an orphan?

You never thought listening to the sound of his voice could make you feel this way. After all that was said and done, you still couldn't hate him. You and your all kindness couldn't say ''I hate you'' to him. And all because you cherished the memories you had of him.

It made you wonder, what about him? does he hate you? The last time he saw you, he said he does;

The sudden yanking of the blindfold made you gasp. And there, you were faced with so many people in front of you. All of them vary from men to women bowing down at you as if you're their God. You're still in your outfit- you were supposed to be heading to college. Jesus, how many days has it been?

You look around. You're surrounded by these people, and you can't run to the door; without a doubt, all of these people will catch you and bring you back to him.

Your chin was softly tapped, and he brought your face to him, making you face him.

Your eyes were wide. You couldn't help but blush when you were face to face with Suguru again.

He changed. His eyes were a heavy glint of despair and evil, and his hair was longer. Even though your brother still ties his locks, the strands of his growing hair were behind his back. You almost smiled when you saw his piercings- it surprised you, to say the least. How he doesn't get rid of them.

"Nii-chan, you'd look so handsome with piercings!"

"Really? well, since my little sister says I'll look handsome with them, I'll get it done."

You thought about how happy you were when he was your brother.

"Hello, again." He greeted you, smiling so wickedly it made your stomach churn.

The Suguru that resides in your memory wasn't the Suguru you're facing now. He wore a Buddhist-style kimono, the silk faintly brushing against your skin. It was nice. It must be expensive, you thought to yourself the more he stared at you. The Suguru you used to know had a loving aura whenever you were with him. The Suguru you remembered wouldn't abduct you and tie your hands together like this. Your innocence made you blind- you failed to realize that he's no longer your brother.

"O-oniichan...''

"Ah, ah, ah, it's Geto- sama for you, lovely."

You blinked, seemingly confused.

He finds it amusing as he mockingly laughs at you. "Honestly, (y/n) who is oniichan? I'm Suguru Geto. Do you know that?"

You didn't realize that you have tears on your cheeks. Suguru's words to an onlooker may be just words. But to you, his blood sister, it is a declaration of your bonds being severed. The memory of 10 years ago, the night he murdered his parents came to mind. The day he left you all alone with nightmares and sorrows as your company failed to bore a hatred fruit.

How can you hate him? He's your brother. The blood pumping in your veins is the same as his. The memory of eating ice creams together and cuddling with each other was too precious, too evergreen for you to throw it away.

"Say it for me. Say, "yes, Geto- sama," he whispered, smirking at you.

You were hesitant, your eyes looking at him and then peeking at the many people bowing in front of you and him. "Yes,, Geto- sama..." you replied meekly.

"Good! very good. You're still as obedient as I remember, little sister," he smiled as you felt the palm of his hands cupping your cheeks together like he used to do when you were sulking.

Why are you here? You find yourself asking. What was the reason for your abduction to this place? You looked at him again, pleading with your eyes for answers.

"Ah, you must be wondering why you're here, right sister?" he pauses, clicking his tongue at your obviousness.

"Why don't I show you?" he sweetly smiled, later tearing open your dress and prompting you to scream. Your eyes were wide open as you screamed for him to get away from you. God knows how much you struggled, backing away from his as much as your body allows you to with tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Please," you plead, disgusted with his hands on the strap of your bra as he removed it from you, "please, let go! please, oniichan-"

Your skin stung from the brute force of Geto's slap. Your head was turning to the right when he slapped you.

It managed to keep your mouth shut. But you're still crying. And it's not just from the slap, but because all your life, Suguru never laid his hands on you. He was always so gentle and loving, smiles adorning his handsome features, and he would press kisses whenever you cried.

But this Suguru Geto has abducted and assaulted you, far from the brother you used to know.

"Didn't I fucking tell you? It's Geto- sama. Not oniichan."

He glared at you, and later his lips were moving into the shape of a smirk.

"A monkey like you doesn't deserve to be my sister.''

By the time you were sobbing, he was in between your trembling legs, and in front of this many people, he tore away your skirt and later grabbed the hem of your panties and,

As pathetic as your miserable life could be, he slides them away, not even bothering to pull them down and toss them aside. Like a common whore, he only did that much.

"Please,, don't..."

"Now, now, you know I only want this,'' you screamed when he cupped your pussy, "right here, don't you baby?" he asked, his tone was sickeningly sweet.

No, no, please...Geto- sama... I don't want to, don't want this..."

Was he really doing this to you? Was he really going to rape you in front of this many people? Was he really going to commit incest with...you? His little sister?

"Didn't he care about you? love you?" His voice was low, whispering into your ears so closely, "Was what you're asking yourself, right, (y/n)?" He beamed at you- a smile that doesn't resemble him from the past. The ones you engraved in your brain were different from what he showed you now.

Dumbly, you nodded at his question, afraid he'd get mad at you for not answering.

Laughing, he cooed, "Times have changed. The old me that you once knew is not the present me. I've already told you that night after I killed your parents, remember?"

You shut your eyes tightly from the painful memories. Splashes of blood, two lifeless bodies lying on the ground before your eyes, and eight-year-old you crying for oniichan to save you. Even though it was obvious, that he was the one who executed them.

That night continues to haunt your every waking and sleep hour. Because of Suguru, you have nightmares. Because of him, you're getting therapy sessions every once a week. Because of that night, you're afraid of blood.

"Please,,,'' begging like an idiot, you try to search for his sympathy.

He laughed in your face, reaching out behind you and easily tugging the ropes that bound you. It falls on the tatami floor underneath you.

You realize that you're half-naked, with your panties slid to the side of your thighs. Embarrassed at the eyes prying on your naked figure, you try covering yourself with your now freed hands.

But he's quick to catch them and gripped your bones so tightly you squealed from the new pain.

"Don't you fucking dare try covering yourself, pathetic slave."

You're trembling from the fear that you never thought you'd feel again.

"Your body and soul are all mine. They're worshipping me, and you will, too. This is why you are here for."

Suguru thought about how pathetic you are when you're shaking your head from side to side. Your face says you don't want this, along with your tears. They speak for themselves.

It's not bad of him to think that he doesn't give a shit about what you want, right?

His cock was already hard from the minute he slid your dress away, and his eyes were met with your beautiful breasts. What's even more precious is when he slid your panties away and was met with your flushing folds, the clit hidden away slightly.

He bit his lips, and your crying face heightened his arousal even more.

"Come on, worship me, Your God!" he caught your legs and spread them apart, which caused you to cry out even more from fear and disgust.

Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting, disgusting, he's going to!

"No, please!" You screamed, your cries ringing in the cramped room. Everyone is looking at you and him. You look away, shutting your eyes with those beautiful blushing cheeks Suguru loved.

"Please, Geto- sama... please..." You tried pleading again, but he ignored you and spread your legs wider (if possible), making your cunt visible for everyone in this room to see. You felt your cheeks reddening even more. He was behind you, pressed so closely you froze when your butt felt the hardness of his cock.

He slid his hands down your shoulders, causing you to flinch, and later, it found its way to your pretty flower folds.

You're shaking your head with tears yet again.

"Look at them!" he hissed at you, gripping your chin to face straight ahead, in front of his worshippers. Your tears were gathering in the palm of his hand, wetting them more. Your lips were trembling more and more, as he spoke to his audience.

"Today, all of you will get to see me breed this girl, and create a world of sorcerers. Soon, she will birth my future kins, and I will rebuild my world."

What the fuck is he saying? is he... is he serious?

"Listen, (y/n), nii-san may not be there on time when you need me, but I want you to know, nii-san loves you, ok?"

"nii-san! why are you telling me this?"

"nii-san just want you to know, nii-san will never hurt you. And nii-san will always love you, no matter what he does, ok?"

It's ok, it's ok. It's nii-san. He will always love me, always, always...

You heard the shuffling of clothes, and you saw him undoing his obi, the nagajuban part of his kimono was already away from his shoulders, revealing his torso.

Bile rose in your throat, and tears won't stop painting your skin.

Nii-san will never hate me. He lied, he lied... he will always love me, right?

You thought to yourself, even when Suguru was sliding away the rest of his robes from his body, his fingers spreading apart your folds and teasing you in front of his followers.

"You will give yourself to me like a good slave. You will let me squeeze myself inside you and pump my cum into your womb until you're fat with my babies. You hear me?" He grabbed your chin, making you face him slightly.

You're crying, yet again with your pathetic blubbers.

"Look at the inside of her pussy. It's all pink and untouched, don't you think so?" he says, and you hid your face into his chest, crying even more when he spreads your folds even farther, making you uncomfortable and slightly in pain from the stretch.

"Please, don't..."

Your face is buried on his chest, shutting your eyes when he continues to spread your folds and tease you with two of his fingers. You tried moving away. The plan is to crawl from his body. You didn't care anymore if his followers caught you. You would rather die trying.

"Please, no. Please,," God was apparently a sadist because He only allows you a few seconds to be freed from Suguru's hold before you're in his arms again. This time, you're underneath him.

When he dragged you and trapped you with his body, he slammed your head roughly against the tatami floor, and you let out a pained cry. You swore your vision went black for a second from the impact. You lay there, with tears continuously flowing from your eyes.

"How dare you try to run away from me, you low-life monkey." He speaks enough for the people in the room to hear him. As if he wanted everyone to listen to what he says, even though it's clear that the one he's humiliating is you.

He smirked, his hands suddenly grabbing your throat and clenching hard, almost breaking your windpipe. You coughed, little hands desperately grabbing his much bigger arms.

"How dare you, trying to escape from me like that," he grabbed his cock, aligning the muscle to probe directly against your hole. His laughter resonated yet again when he realized...

"You're not even wet? How rude of you to come unprepared before your God. I guess I'll have to improvise," he spits into his palm before smearing the liquid all over his length. You don't even want to look at it, too afraid and disgusted.

For someone who swore they won't hurt you, this fucking hurts.

"No, please... I don't want this..." You whispered in tears when you felt the head of his cock probing your hole, trying to get inside you.

"Shut up, you're annoying me." He barked, pushing the head finally inside you, passing the tight rim first.

"Ah!" You screamed, the foreign feeling of having something (even if it's just the head) inside you too overwhelming for you. Your hands move on their own- you clutched his arms so tightly he swore it'll leave a mark with your nails.

He pushed into you, tearing open your hymen. His chest was pushed against yours. Your screams resonated in the room when Suguru kept pushing into your bleeding pussy. You could see his head was thrown back and his eyes closed from the pleasure of having a virgin.

"Well, at least you're a good girl,'' he chuckled, ramming his cock inside you to test the water with your hands still gripping his.

"Please, don't...move!" You cried out, tears pooling in your eyes when he stopped for a while, observing you.

His eye caught sight of the crystal blue hairpin that you wore. He gifted them to you when you were 3 years old. He has asked for Shoko's advice on what to get for your birthday, and hairpin it was. His heart sank a little, a frown on his face.

You still wear them? Even after all these times?

He ignored you, pushing away that sympathy he felt for you, and fucked you despite your cries of pain.

"No... no, oniichan, it hurts!"

The moment you screamed, his hands were gripping your throat once again, tightening as hard as he could in an attempt to kill you. Your eyes were staring at him from pain- and he loved how you panicked. The soft hands that were on the floor are now gripping his arms.

"How.many.fucking.times," he squeezed harder, listening to your choked moans.

"Do I have to fucking tell you, bitch? It's Geto- sama, for you."

He found pleasure when you choked, crying, and the way your insides clenched with every hard thrust he gave you. The only thing his mind yearned for was to breed your pussy full of potent cum and see you get pregnant before his eyes. And have as many children as he wants with you and,

Finally killing you, just like he killed his parents 10 years ago.

''P-p- please..." your choked whispers were heard amidst the sound of his worshippers and his thrusts, and he thought briefly, that he loves you all flushed and humiliated in front of his followers. Your eyes were staring at his, crying out for him to stop.

"Please, what?" he taunted you, fucking you even harder and you let out a squeak from the new pain.

"Plea- please, stop... it hurts, Geto- sa- sama..."

He ignored you, and you didn't know which hurts more- the fact that your brother raped you, or it's because he treated you like a stranger?

"You can take it. Women's hole is to be used for this and for giving birth. If you can't handle a cock, how can you give birth to healthy babies?"

A tear trickles on your skin at his words, hurt by the lack of empathy he provided for you.

You shake your head, sobbing. "I can't... it really... really hurts..."

He lets go of your throat, pounding you harder now that he held your waist in place. But you're still fucking crying, much to his dismay.

"It hurts, please...!" You glanced down to see where he plunged himself into you, raping you. Your widened eyes were entertaining his sadistic tendencies.

"Geto-sama, I'm bleeding..." you almost passed out when you saw the trickle of blood in between your thighs- you hate it, you hate it, it reminded you of that night.

Your whimpers are music to his ears. He knows you must've been afraid of blood after the night he slaughtered his parents. You're shaking even more when you saw the crimson liquid, sobbing like a fucking kid.

He loves it, hurting you.

His hands gripped your chin, turning your face to the right so you could look at all these people, the men hard. You were fucked by their God, and he loves the way you clenched harder at the humiliation, a reminder, that you belonged to him. That he's your Geto-sama.

"You stupid bitch, you think I care about you?"

"(y/n), careful! or else you'll trip!"

''I don't care if you're my blood sister. I don't even care when I killed my parents."

"(y/n), -chan, you need to wait for oniichan before you could cross the road on your own. I don't want you to get hurt, baby."

"You're only a pussy to fuck, to birth my children."

"Here, hold my hand so you won't get lost, ok?"

"You know what I'm gonna do to you once you've done your role?"

"(y/n), do you hate me for leaving you every week?"

"I'm gonna kill you, and send you to hell."

"niisan will come back, baby. I'm not going anywhere."

"Make sure you take all of my cum, you stupid monkey. Take all, or else you're going to get a beating from me, alright?"

He fucked you so hard, that when he shoot his seeds into your womb, it felt so painful and you screamed so hard from the pain.

.

.

.

.

.

It's been a month since that day. The day you were taken away and raped in front of many people. You gently sobbed when you saw the pregnancy test that Suguru and his secretary forced you to take said positive.

"Great! you're pregnant!'' This was the first time Suguru felt so happy, the first time in 10 years. And it was sadly not because he met you again, but there's a baby inside you, one that he's been crazy about for the past month. So crazy that he raped you every day, every hour, not even bothering to tend to your wounds and left you alone the minute he pumped his seeds into you.

He cupped your flat stomach, happy that his seeds created a fetus that would later be born as his child. And before long, he'd put another one into you.

"You're so perfect, my love. A perfect bitch to use for fucking babies." His voice hung in the air, sank into every fiber in your being. He didn't even have the decency to not degrade you like that in front of his secretary, his family.

"Listen, now that you're pregnant with my child, I want to remind you." He grabbed your chin, squeezed your cheeks together, and cursed you.

"You mean nothing to me. You're not my family member, and never will be. This baby is the only family I regard from you. You're just a host for my children."

He lets you go, pushing you away so hard, that you let out a sob.

"And if the baby is useless monkey just like you are, I'll kill it, until you give birth to the ones I want," he grinned at you, so eerily.

You're afraid. Afraid of this monster. You slowly cup your stomach, and the thought of Suguru killing your baby frightens you.

Not only does he has and will ruin your life, but also this baby will be crushed too if it doesn't turn out the way he desires.

And it's all your fault. For having this baby, for birthing it, and powerless to stop his cruel way.

[morgue-ratt]

Pretty in Pink, A Valentine's Day Fic

Strade x Reader// NSFW// 2.6k Warnings: blood, torture, noncon, wrist trauma,

YOU wonder where Strade goes when he leaves the house. It’s only once or twice a week, he has everything delivered and he works from home. Still, the hours when he’s gone are a slight reprieve, even if this time he had left you locked in the basement.  

You know immediately when Strade is home, the door upstairs slams and you jump. His footsteps are heavy and getting closer and your heart fills with dread; his excitement is never good for you. You try to will yourself to calm down but any hope of that is gone as he flings opens the door at the top of the stairs. Oh god, he went to the hardware store. If that’s the case, it’ll be a long night with you and whatever new toy he found to extract his pound of flesh.  

“Liebling,” He calls, his voice light and friendly. You can feel your heart in your throat as he comes into view. “I’m home, did you miss me?” He doesn’t wait for your answer. “I brought you something!” He holds up a pale yellow, paper bag and your eyes narrow. You can see the lavender tissue paper lining the bag, clearly it’s not from the hardware store. More like a little botique. He’s down the stairs now and he shakes his head. “Silly me, did I forget to tie you again after this morning?”  

“What did you bring?” You ask, your heart pounding. Just because it wasn’t from the hardware store doesn’t mean it can’t be used to inflict evil.  

“Aw,” Strade rubs his thumb over your cheek and you wince. “Do you wanna see your present, Hase? It’s almost Valentine’s Day, you know.”  

“Valentine’s Day?” That does catch you off gaurd. You have no way of knowing how long you’d been here but... Valentine’s Day. Febuary. Nearly a year. It’s staggering. His collar around your throat suddenly feels heavy.  

“Yes!” Strade beams. “So I brought you something... special.” He shoves the bag into your hands and looks at you expectantly. “Well? Open it!”  

The bag is light, which gives you some hope that it isn’t something to inflict pain. Still, you stall as long as you can before you have to look inside. “Valentine’s Day.”  

“Look inside,”  

You pull aside the lavender tissue paper and you feel almost... sea sick when you realize what he’s brought you. You take out a light pink baby doll dress and a matching pair of lace panties. There’s a slit going up the front of the dress, stopping just at the chest with a tiny ribbon bow The whole thing is made of soft, sheer fabric with delicate lace around the edges.  

“Oh... Strade,” You should be releived that he wasn’t planning on cutting you to pieces but the dress makes your stomach churn. “That’s... so sweet of you...” 

Strade was grinning at you like you were something to eat. “Put it on.”  

“What?” You choke.  

“The sale’s lady was very nice, she helped me pick it out. Now put it on.”  

You know that tone, it’s the same one he uses when he orders you to cut yourself. It means do it or else, even though to anyone else it would still be playful. You don’t want to put it on, the idea of making yourself pretty for him makes you almost wish for the hammer. “Okay,” You say quietly. 

“Ah, Liebling. Don’t look so sad.” He runs his hand through your hair and you shudder. “It’ll be fun, I promise.” 

You don’t like when he promises things but you know arguing with him will only make things worse. You take a step back from him and look down at the dress. It’s so strange... this is probably more expensive than anything you have ever would have been able to afford but as you put it on, the silky fabric makes your skin crawl. You stood before Strade in the dress and panties and he gives you that horrible smile again.  

“Oh, Hase, look at you,” Strade purrs, you can feel his eyes comb over you and you cross your arms over yourself, looking down. “Aw, is my Liebling shy, hm?” He laughs. His laugh is always bright, it’s only sinster because of how you know him. “I have another surprise for you.”  

Your heart sinks as he turns towards his work bench.  

“No, Strade,” You can’t keep the panick out of her voice as he opens a drawer and pulls out a handful of nails.  

He laughs again and as he works, he hums a little tune. “There’s no need to be so... nervous.” Strade turns around, hoisting a bright yellow nailgun in his left hand. 

Of course. It will never just be a pretty dress.  

You start to back away. “I don’t--”  

Strade doesn’t seem to care, crossing the basement in two strides and putting his free hand over your mouth. “Shush, shush, it’ll be fun,” He says again.  

You’re looking into those... strange golden eyes so you don’t see when he suddenly kicks you in the shin. You fall to the ground and in a second, he is on top of you; his knees on either side of your ribcage, digging in slightly.  

“There we go,” He says, leaning in so far you can feel his breath on your cheeks, his greasy hair hanging around your face. “That wasn’t so hard, huh?” 

Strade’s hand moves from your mouth down to your throat. He’s smiling down at you, he can see your fear and he knows you well enough to know when you’re holding back tears. He traces his fingers over your collarbone. “You’re just so... pretty.”  

You try to shift under him and his free hand jumps to your left arm, pinning you to the concrete floor. “Strade,” You try but you’re silenced when you feel the barrell of the nail gun pressing against the skin of your forearm.  

He grins when he sees the fear on your face, finally his eyes light up with that usual sadistic glee. “Hase,” He purrs just as he pulls the trigger. Your forearms explodes in pain as it cuts through skin and muscle to the concrete below. You don’t even scream, the sound you make is closer to choking on your own siliva. In fact, you don’t scream until the second nail hits bone. When you do, Strade leans even closer to kiss you, effecrively cutting you off. Your tears stream down your face and into your mingling mouths. He pulls back to mutter something in your ear (“Du gehörst mir.”), but you are barely aware of anything except the nails in your arm.  

He pulls away, your mouth feels dry. You turn your head towards your arm and the sight makes you ill; they’re long nails, at least eight inchs. Your breathing gets faster and Strade notices;  

“Excited, Liebling?” Strade asks, brushing the tears off your face. He brings the nail gun to your other arm.  

“No,” You say quietly, trying to shake your head. Strade brings the barrel of the gun to your wrist. “No, no, Strade--” He pulls the trigger and you scream again. You try to twist away but it only causes the nails to tear through flesh.  

“Oh... oh, darling;” Strade puts the forth nail in, right below the crook of elbow. He’s enjoying this, your screams and your refletive attempts to get away that are only bringing you blood and pain. He’s elated.  

You’re sobbing so hard you could barely see him. He flicks the nail in your wrist curiously and you can only whimper. He leans down and kisses you, it was slow and deep and it would have been... sweet. Strade pulls away slightly, kissing the collum and your throat and your eyes flutter closed. Maybe he’s done, maybe his bloodlust is satiated, maybe-- 

You shriek when Strade suddenly sinks his teeth into your collarbone and your eyes fly open. “Look at me,” he muttered, his face buried in your chest before he bites you again, even harder. His mouth is covered in your blood, he watches it flow down from the wound like a cat watches a bird. Strade drags his hands through it and you watch, horrified, as he starts to draw hearts on your stomach and throat.  

The sight of your red only spurrs him on. Strade sits back on his haunchs, no longer looming over you, but only to undo and pull off his belt. You know what’s about to happen, you knew the moment you saw frilly pink lace. You feel it, wrapped around your body like miasma.  

The sound of Strade’s zipper cuts through the haze your feeling, dull alarm bells go off somewhere in the back of your mind. Strade’s calloused fingers loop under the waistband of the pretty pink panties and pulls them down. He’s being careful, he doesn’t want them to tear, unlike soft skin of your forearms.   

There was enough blood on Strade’s hands for him to use it as lube, you watch with lidded eyes as he runs his fist down the length of his cock, staining it red. He disgusts you. In fact, you didn’t realize how close fear and disgust really are until you ended up here.  

Strade pushes his way into you but it’s the least of the pain you’re feeling. It almost feels... nice, until he ruts into you. You move with his thrusts, causing the nails to pull through your flesh; your forearms, your wrist and your elbow. You can’t help but cry and again; “St- Strade, please.”  

“Shush,” Strade looks... hungry. He thrusts in harder than before and you scream. “Yes, that’s it.” He says quietly. He grips your hips as he sheathes himself fully inside you, watching as your face twists in pain. “Does it feel nice? Do I make you feel good, Liebling?”  

His mistakes your cries of pain for moans of pleasure, or perhaps he doesn’t care. Strade bares his teeth, the glint in his eyes is paralyzing. You can’t breathe, your tounge is heavy in your mouth. He kisses you hard as his hands creep around your throat without actually choking you.  

Strade is crushing you into the concrete, all you can smell is his him; sweat, beer, grease and metal. You can tell he’s getting close, no doubt your tears are helping him get there, he licks them off your cheeks, leaving your face coated in saliva. “Hase,” He breathes, his lips against your ear and he pants. He’s going faster and faster and you can’t hold back your desperate screams as the nails slash and pull through your flesh. “Mein süßer kleiner Hase,”  

One final thrust causes the nails in your forearm to rip further through your skin. He finishes as your scream echoes through the basement. You’re sobbing, your heart is pounding so hard in your chest you wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it to. Strade lays on top of you, breathing heavy and hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You can feel his smile against your throat. “Oh, Liebling,” He just lays on top of you his head resting on your chest as you cry softly. He doesn’t seem to mind, he’s watching you as he reaches up to wrap a lock of your hair around his finger.  

You loose track of time. Eventually, he gets up off of you and your eyes follow him. Strade goes over to his work bench. “No” You say, your voice soft. “No...” he only laughs as he pulls someone off the pegboard. You shift your hips but you can’t do anything more. “Stop...” You’re almost whining at this point. He turns around, holding the hammer. “No,” you shift away as much as you can.  

Strade settles on top of you, keeping you caged between his legs. He brings his fingers to his lips and you fall silent. You don’t even blink and he grips the hammer. He brings his free hand to your left arm, pushing it down onto the concrete between the two nails there. He uses the claw of the hammer to pull out the first nail and you let out a strained choking sound as the nail pings against the floor.  

“Shush...” He purrs, prying another nail free from your flesh.  

He’s... helping. He’s hurting you but it’s only to help. You met his eyes and try to even out your breathing. You sound like you’ve just come up for air as he claws the nail out of your wrist and your fingers twitch. The sound of the nail bouncing off the floor echoes in your head. You barely feel the last nail as it’s exhumed from your elbow. All you can do is sigh as Strade collapses on top of you yet again. You feel his stubble scrape against your cheek as he whispers;  

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Liebling,”  

[trick-or-fucking-treat]

Hello! I hope you are doing great! But I was just wondering if I may request head-cannons for Bo Sinclair with a fem s/o who is like the cliche innocent good girl (loves wearing bows and ribbons, frilly cute dresses, Mary janes…) I feel like this would be an interesting dynamic with Bo (that he would absolutely EAT UP because that man is insane and you can’t tell he wouldn’t love the idea of “corrupting” someone or even like protecting the reader and shielding her from the world…) If not, that’s fine! But thank you and have a great day!

Bo Sinclair with innocent girly-girl (fem) S/O

Masterlist

When you strolled into town one day, Bo did not think you were real

I mean, pink… frilly dresses… ribbons!

Bo doesn’t leave town much so he can’t say for sure, but he didn’t think there were girls who actually dressed like that

He also didn’t think you’d be his type

And yet…

Bo and Vincent had killed all your friends, as per usual, but you hadn’t been there to witness it

You were such a sweetheart when Bo found you and you asked where your friends were

He couldn’t tell you

Instead, he told you they left without you

You were devastated, but Bo thought he’d done good(ish) by protecting you from a worse evil

He kept you around for while under the pretence that your friends might come back looking for you

Eventually the truth came out about Bo, his brothers, and the town

But by this point you’d already fallen hard and fast for Bo

You were everything Bo never knew he needed, and just about the cutest thing he’d ever seen

“Aww doll that’s damn sweet of ya! But there’s no need to bring beers to the garage, i’s all dirty in ‘ere and your dress is all pretty!”

He thought you deserved better than a ruthless killer like himself, but wants to keep you for himself nonetheless

He was shocked when you agreed to stay but did not complain

Would never admit it but loves playing with your hair, especially after you teach him how to plait it and tie the ribbons all pretty

Never lets you around new victims visitors

Doesn’t want you getting attached or upset, and doesn’t want you near all the gory happenings

(Won’t admit it, but he also doesn’t want to see you disappointed in him because he still thinks he doesn’t deserve you - doesn’t want you thinking that leaving him is a better option, either)

Kind of treats you like glass sometimes - never wants to distress you or be harsh with you and gets apologetic real quick if he’s snappy

“God, ‘m sorry baby I didn’t mean t’ snap at ya!”

“Lester better not’ve told you about the trouble last night! I swear to God I’ll kill him!” - “Bo! It’s fine! We were just chatting!” - “Doesn’t matter! You don’t need to hear all that nonsense!”

It’s nice, but you know he’s holding back

After he gets more comfortable with the relationship he’s a little less gentle

Still an absolute sweetheart and never intentionally upsets you, but he enjoys teasing you and lets you see the real him a little more

“Be careful there doll.. I don’t know anyone else who would describe me as a sweetheart. Wouldn’t want ya to see their point of view now would we?”

He’s testing your boundaries a little to see if opening up is going to scare you off

You can see the playful and often hopeful glint in his eyes though and know he would never hurt you

(P.s. sex with Bo started out so gentle and loving, but you knew he wanted to ruin you - corruption kink in full force once you finally let him)

(Wouldn’t do anything you don’t like though, any sign you’re not enjoying yourself and he’s stopping and making it up to you)

Eventually comes to face the fact that you’ve made him a better person - he’s still a psycho and a killer, but he never thought he could love and care for another person like he loves you

A/N: thanks for the request! So so sorry it took so long! Lmk if there’s anything else you’d like added, and feel free to request!