#corpse bride happy ending

[yandereloveraw]

My happy ending with Corpse Groom YB/Peter ^^ 💙 (We're both dead and happily married.)

"Then out of the blue comes this groovy young woman who vows forever to be by his side."

YB/Peter belongs to @invertedmindinc and @y0urb0yfriend

[valeriewinks777]

Set Free🦋

pairing: Y/N x Alastor

*Your POV*

You walk restlessly--almost as if you're waiting for someone late into the night--down the cracked steps of your crumbling mansion in one of the many rings of Hell.

Your feet glide across the stained floor gracefully, the white of your wedding gown picking up the dust and debris like a feather duster.

You would have been frantic at the thought of your white wedding dress touching filth, though lately, you do not care as much as you used to. You're dress has aged over the centuries of your days in Hell, slowly decomposing away...much like you...

You approach two large wooden doors, pushing them open to reveal the vast darkened ballroom, merely lit by Hell's moonlight shining through the tinted blue windows hanging on your wall.

The smooth, polished glass dancefloor sparkles in the light, even under all the dents and cracks, its still beautiful.

Your feet lead you to the center of the ballroom, as your eyes take in your empty, quiet surroundings.

The grand piano that sits in the corner hides under a white sheet, rotting away and it's keys rusted from years of neglect.

The once red and silver lined velvet couches have now been chewed due to the rats that will become new residents of this place...

Once you depart.

You inhale a shuddering breath, feeling the warmth glow of the moonlight bask on your body.

It is nearly midnight...you only have these last final minutes to yourself. Before you finally...give up.

Your eyes catch sight of yourself in the glass beneath your feet. Slowly, you look down.

What looks back, is the sight of you, a pale, bluish skinned demon woman, whose left arm is merely bone and no flesh.

Your hair trails down your back stopping at your tailbone, your curvy waist revealing a portion of your rib cage through the ripped part of your wedding dress.

You are a decomposing sight...and yet...you still see that flicker of beauty you once had.

Your eyes are a sparkly blue, bright and shining, even against the darkness of Hell. Your round face shape still having its color, and your smile sad yet...beautiful.

Even after so long...you still wear your wedding dress, your ripped and stained veil trailing down your hair, and your dried decomposed bouquet of flowers in your hands. 

You never once took your dress off...it was all you had left.

All you had left of your once human life on earth, before you had taken your life at quarter three under an ancient oak tree.

When you awoke, you found yourself in Hell...looking into the nearest mirror to see your once white skin now tainted blue, and your once beautiful perfect body now missing bits and pieces, revealing your bones.

You are a Bride Demon. The only Bride Demon in Hell, the only Bride Demon who has ever existed.

You are Demon who is obsessed with finding true love, that you couldn't see the sick love consume you entirely, twisting you, bending you to its will.

You fell victim to such sick love on the night of your wedding. Your husband had began to beat you, and you, killed him in self defense. Before ending your own life due to the crime you just committed.

You had no ill intentions towards your husband, you loved him--or so you believed--but the night of your wedding, when he was too drunk to be able to contain his actions, you had no choice but to end him, just to keep yourself from dying.

Though your action drove you to insanity, to the point where you could not live with yourself.

For your crimes, you were sent to Hell. And as for your punishment, your once beautiful skin and body slowly began to rot away...leaving you a horrid sight to others.

Making it so that no one could ever love you...which is all you have ever desired most in life...

For centuries, you've hidden away in this abandoned mansion you stand in now, rotting away with each and every passing day.

You found comfort and solitude being here, hiding away in these walls with fading wallpaper.

You and this house face the same fate. One day, you and this house will be forgotten.

But at least, you say to yourself, that this home you've grown to love will disappear with you.

You extend your arms, imagining a partner worthy of your love placing his hands in yours and on your waist, waltzing to the silence of the ballroom, hearing a song created by your minds.

A soft smile spreads across your tainted blue lips, as indeed, the thoughts of a grinning man fills your mind.

His name...Alastor.

You had met him shortly after coming to Hell, and instantly, you fell in love with him.

He has that effect on women, of course. Due to the fact that he is one of Hell's Overlords, and attractive unlike other demons you've seen.

But you knew deep down that you were in love with him not because of his looks or rank...you loved him for him. You were probably the first demoness to have ever loved him for who he was on the inside.

You loved him because unlike anyone here, and even your romances in the human world...he truly made you feel like a woman. He made you feel alive...and worthy. And beautiful.

You wanted to be his wife, more then anything in the world. You believed that meeting him, you finally found your happily ever after you dreamed of ever since you were a child watching Disney princesses receive there happily ever afters.

Though you soon realized that someone like Alastor, could never open his heart to anyone, let alone you.

He never found love or romance worthy of his time, he enjoyed being married to himself and his passion for entertaining and making deals.

So on the day you confessed your feelings to him, he merely laughed at you, before telling you that he would never be yours, causing you to be here now. Hiding in the crumpling pieces of an old Overlord's used to be mansion, while you hold your poorly stitched heart in the palms of your hands.

Centuries has passed since you have seen his face, but you still remember him. You remember his smile, his red and black hair, his antlers, his radio like voice that brims with charm...

You couldn't help yourself to forget him. He unknowingly made sure that you would never forget him, that you would spend countless crying hours over the truth that he would never be yours.

You would never know what he was thinking, or what his feelings were because of how well he hid behind his wicked smile.

The true power of torture...no blade could ever hurt like this.

Of going centuries without the one you love and truly desire, of him being so close yet so far...

no sort of weapon could ever compare to this silent torture.

You love Alastor...more then you have ever loved anyone ever before...

And allowing your heart slowly be consumed by this pain, you find yourself here now, dancing your final moments before you would accept your demise.

You continue to waltz, before you feel the sudden gentle caress of gloved hands gingerly clasp your hands, forcing your eyes to open to be face to face with the grinning demon who mercilessly played with your heart until it had reached it's maximum...

Alastor.

He stands before you, tall and strapping, dressed in a red and black version of a tux, his hair combed back to reveal his deer ears more, and a single rose head pinned in his coat.

Your eyes widen, and your lips part. He was gorgeous...stunning, breathtaking.

You could only pray that you looked beautiful in his eyes.

Alastor begins the waltz with you, never murmuring a single word, but merely staring at you with his smile softening ever so slightly.

How you dreamed of this moment when he would take your hands in his and dance with you. How you painted pictures in your mind of such fantasies...

You feel your weakened heart beat a little harder, and your eyes stinging with tears of joy. He is here with you, in your final moments.

Alastor and you continue the dance, leaving behind trails of footprints amongst dust, his fluidity and grace leaving you breathless and even more in love with him.

He was perfect...the most perfect man you have ever loved...

He was the one you've searched for all your time on Earth as a human.

And he here was now...dancing with you.

As you feel the dance slow to nearly a complete stop, he raises a hand to tuck some hair behind your ear, his touch leaving a warm sensation within you. Making you desire more...but being denied your plead, like a dog begging there master for love and attention.

How close he was to you...it made you feel a pinch in your chest, the desire to reach up and kiss his lips burning within you.

Though you cannot do so. You don't want to lose this little fraction of affection due to a reckless kiss.

You've begged for this, and you are going to stand here and allow yourself to be still, and breathe in this little affection he will allow himself to give.

His touch lingers to your cheeks, brushing aside the few tears that fell from your eyes.

All you can see, is his grinning face, staring into yours.

You begin to feel your heart ache suddenly, before it grows into a more intense pain, making you gasp softly and hiss in pain.

The time has come now...it is time to say goodbye.

For centuries, you've manifested for your demise to come, to take you and end your suffering, but standing here now in front of Alastor, the one you love with all your heart, you beg the invisible forces of Hell to give you more time.

More time to be with Alastor...to feel his fingers touch your skin. More time to feel just a little loved.

Your knees begin to grow weak, and you step forward to clutch onto Alastor for balance, though as you reach for him, he disappears from the air, and you fall to the ground.

A hallucination...your mind's one last act of torture before you give yourself entirely to the hungry void.

He was never here.

Your heart is shattering, cutting your insides like glass. You roll onto your right side to stare out at the tinted blue window one last time.

You curl yourself in a tight ball, tears running down your face as you beg.

Please...please...just a little more time. Please...I don't want to go.

You feel your breathing shorten by each passing second, your hands shaking as you grip onto your chest.

The final pieces of your soul are being taken away...and you fight to hold on just a little longer. 

As you lay there, your existence slowly being sucked away through Hell's straw, you think of Alastor. You think of his smile, you pretend to hear his voice...you think of how he made you feel.

Such a wicked game he played with you...without even knowing it. Being clueless to your true feelings and desires.

And even though initially, he is the cause of you being here now, reaching the point of your permanent demise due to the heartbreak...you wished he was here. 

You wished he would caress your face, and tell you that everything will be okay...

You wished you could look into his eyes, and see him.

The pain slowly begins to intense even more, forcing you to shut your eyes and accept it.

Unknowingly, a shadow appears behind you, kneeling down to where you lay, its hand reaching to touch your back...your last touch of comfort.

You can't see the shadow, nor do you even realize that there even is a shadow behind you, but suddenly, you begin to feel warmth...like...your going home finally.

Your eyes slowly flutter shut, your breathing coming to a slow, before you hear a faint whisper in your ear, that you can't tell whether or not if its real, or if its your mind speaking.

Don't be afraid...you will be set free...

Set free...

The words soothe you, as your breathing relaxes. After years of abuse in your human life, and centuries of heartbreak...you've finally reached the end.

You won't feel anything anymore...you will finally rest.

Your soul will become weightless, and disappear in the air.

You will be free.

Your hand falls away from your chest, as you breathe out your last final breath.

Your body relaxes...and your eyes never open.

Your time has come...your demise has reached you.

You are no longer trapped in your demoness body, you are gone.

★★★

Hours pass, and the shadow still remains beside your lifeless body.

The shadow lifted you onto its lap, so that it could cradle you in its arms.

You never stir, nor do your eyes ever open.

The shadow gingerly cups your face, its gloved thumb brushing against your cold cheek.

This isn't a shadow cradling you, no...this is Alastor.

Before your demise, you unknowingly summoned him to come to you, to be there for your final moments before you would give up fighting entirely and lay yourself down for Hell to swallow.

He witnessed you accept your fate...with a soft smile on your blue lips as you exhaled your final breath.

Alastor raises a hand to touch yours that he placed on your stomach, his crimson red eyes staring into your face.

He's waited a long time for you to finally stop fighting and give in...for the sake of your tortured soul.

He's known how long and how deeply you loved him. So many times, he wanted to scream at you, he wanted you to let him go so that you could have a chance in your new life in Hell.

Though you never did...you allowed yourself the love you felt for him to consume you until there was nothing left to consume. 

He stood by and witnessed you torture your soul, being able to do nothing to fix it.

He couldn't love you, not the way you deserved to be loved, and his powers wouldn't fix what was already too engrained in you.

He had to stand by and watch as the final piece of you faded away. 

You had proven to him...that a heart could still break once it stops beating.

Though deep down he wasn't in love with you, he did care about you. He did feel something for you...a feeling of friendship, of acceptance for who you were.

Though you would never accept what he wanted to--and was willing--to give you. You only wanted him as your eternal lover....

Alastor exhales a little breath. "You poor dear..." he whispers to yourself, "driven to demise from a love you desired...and never seeing what was already in front of you."

You don't say a word.

He leans down and gently places a soft tender kiss on your cold forehead, placing his one hand on your heart. 

"Don't worry, my darling. No longer will you suffer..."

His hand begins to glow green, as he focuses on setting your soul to freedom.

His final act of kindness, his final gift to you...to set you free.

Slowly, your body begins to detach parts of itself, the detached pieces shaping into beautiful blue butterflies, before your entire body is gone, and transformed into hundreds of blue butterflies that fly away into the air, free at last.

He watches the butterflies fly elegant and gracefully in the air, having no knowledge as to where to go, but not caring about it.

They could go anywhere they wanted...there were no restrictions.

He could never give you his heart from when you were a living demoness...but, he could only hope that what he did give you, was enough for you to finally be set to rest. To finally be free from pain, and weightless.

He rises to his feet, picking up your left behind bouquet of dead flowers.

He touches the petal of a dried up blue rose, before turning to leave the crumbling abandoned mansion, with this only keepsake of yours in his hands.

As he entered Hell's streets, he watched as the butterflies that is you float higher into Hell's skies, reaching for the doorway that will release you from Hell, and allow you entrance to Earth.

A soft smile forms on Alastor's face, knowing that he did something no one ever could.

He set you free.

And that to his eyes...is the perfect act of love.

He turns on his heels and heads for home, the thoughts of your beautifully painted face on his mind.

He will never forget you...he will hold your bouquet of flowers as his reminder of you, and the thoughts of your beautiful soul transformed into butterflies, taking flight.

He enters the door to his home, walking towards the fireplace where he sits and reads a book.

Placing your flowers...beside him in a vase.

Though he was never able to give you the one thing you ever wanted, which was his love. He gave you the one thing you truly needed...

Freedom.

[80s-prometheus]

decided to throw my hat in the ring and try making a playlist

it's mostly made up of songs i think lisa and creature would like, songs that I think would fit them, and songs I think fit the vibe of the film

[y0url0verb0y]

I just watched corpse bride for the 1st time (ik don't clock me) and Oh. My. God I'm so fucking *pissed*. Why was Victor and Emily not endgame?!??!?!?!?!? Like tf?!?!?!?!? Got me bawling my eyes out. She *deserved* to be selfish and marry that man for eternity. But she didn't, and I mean I love her for that but come. tf. on

[ghost--core]

im cooking

[chryzure-archive]

“omg, terrifier is a great movie to watch at our halloween get-together!” it’s not. you were terrified of autopsy of jane doe. you were terrified of malignant. terrifier is way gorier than both and also way bleaker than both.

[yumeboshi]

𝜗𝜚。．．❛ #03. CORPSE BRIDE

𐙚 topic。．when you turn down yandere hsr men’s proposals.

．。𝜗𝜚 cw。general yandere themes, suggestive content, MINORS DNI

．。𝜗𝜚 a/n。aven, sunday, and boothill. sunday and aven are regular additions to my posts lol, wrote boothills less intense bc he’s too silly to imagine

#AྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིVENTURINE ⇢ ‘convinces’ you

。he will actually try to coax you into it. he doesn’t want to just force things onto you, that isn’t really what he wants 。“ill make you the happiest pretty bride, doll, just believe in me, hm?” 。continues to sweet talk you, telling you what he can do- buy you pretty dresses, give you anything you want, and he lists luxury after luxury. 。and he follows through his promises. even if you are being really disobedient, he’d still buy you more luxury than you could ever ask for. you will start questioning if you really don’t want this marriage- which is exactly what he wants you to do, to make you doubt yourself. 。his list goes on and on- a vip ticket to the Reverie, first row tickets to robin’s concerts, only the finest things that only his class of people could ever get their hands on. 。but in that list, he conveniently puts out ‘freedom.’ 。if you disagree, he’d pout, asking you why- and when you tell him you want to be free from him, he’d laugh, calling you a silly girl. 。“i already gave you a choice when we met. it was your choice to pick a card from an unknown pile.” 。he’d have the wedding commence in some really luxurious property of the ipc, and he will, invite your family over- he’s merciful. but is it mercy when you know you won’t see them ever again? 。“it would be a shame if they don’t see the happiest moment of your life.”

STANDING there with the most beautiful dress you could humanly ask for, your expression is nothing but a shell as Aventurine smiles at you through those shades. Your eyes are everywhere but on his eyes, when you stare at them, you feel like you’re losing yourself.

you are glad your gown came with a veil over your head, nobody can see your dead eyes, except him.

As the officiant goes on with the questions, you grip your bouquet a little harder to the point you feel their stems crumple, just like your shriveling heart.

You snap out of it after hearing silence- you see his expecting eyes on you and you nod blankly. “I do.”

And your husband smiles even wider, and he steps closer and slowly, while staring at you with uncomfortable adoration through those tantalizing purple eyes, he kisses you. You are expecting a tender kiss in a ceremony; but his gloved hand sneaks onto the back of your head, pulling you in hastily.

“I love you so fucking much, princess—” he breathes into you, brushing aside the saliva that trickles down your chin after his intrusion. “It took quite a while, but you’re finally all mine.” He pulls up your hand that has your forced vow on it, he chuckles and softly kisses your fingers.

“‘m gonna make you so happy, so ecstatic, that you’re gonna thank me for it, love. you will thank me that I restrained you from everything else.” he whispers, and the people clap, cheering; your family too, who smiles, knowing nothing that it would be your last reunion.

#SྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིUNDAY ⇢ breaks you

。he just takes it on another level (and does not find your struggles entertaining unlike the former) 。he will be, really heartbroken at first. the head of the oak family asking you to be his lifelong sweetheart is almost like him giving you his life. you are his entire world- and the world has rejected him. 。“…I see. was I not good enough for you, angel?” 。although his emotions will be very hard to control, he’s very used to commencing plans. he’d tell you that he could ‘talk this out’ with you. unfortunately, it’s not a choice, but rather, an order. 。sunday is a ‘the end justifies the means’ kind of person. he will do any means to make you eventually accept your fate. that will include imprisoning you in some faraway place and leaving you abandoned for so long, you will be broken, wishing for any interaction. food is only given to you through a remote device, with no human interaction. 。sunday itches to be with you- he is compassionate for you, his heart will ache to see you sob into an endless cacophony. a part of him will be tempted to go to you and be with you physically, not watching you from a screen. 。he will repeat it- he will visit once a blue moon, comforting you, asking you if you changed your mind. when you ask him when he’d release you, his expression will harden. 。“it seems you haven’t learned anything, sweetheart.” 。if you are still stubborn, he will be a little impatient. he will speed up the process by adding new things in- maybe making you dream of a lovely, free life and when you wake up, you’re just alone. he will not resort to anything violent, he cares too much about you to hurt you. although, ‘hurt’ in his dictionary doesn’t apply to mentally hurting you. 。you will sob and show your most dramatic, fragile sides to a descent of madness, thinking you are truly alone until sunday comes to visit. you are wrong, though- sunday has always been with you, just not physically. 。he has always been watching you cry into the void through a screen. always.

MAYBE you have finally lost your mind, because when Sunday comes to visit you and your dull prison, you collapse to your knees and immediately plead him.

“Please,” you sob, clutching his legs desperately- he doesn’t crouch, but looks down- almost like a god addressing its follower. Sunday is no god for you, but you beg like he is.

“Please what?” He looks at you, fingers brushing over your hands, tilting his head just the slightest. His golden eyes glitter in the dim light. He is waiting for only one answer, there is only one correct answer to his question.

But you do not give him the right one. “Please just let me go,” you break down. Your heart is throbbing from all the crying, vision blurry and your head is light with no energy to talk anymore.

His gentle, serene smile immediately warps into that of a cold one. “Try again?” His fingers grip your hands hard, warning you that his patience is running thin.

When you remain silent except for your sobs, he crouches down to stare at you on eye-level, boring holes into your fearful expression. Unlike his deadly gaze, his words are soft and flow out quickly like a river- albeit with a sigh of exasperation. “Sweetheart, I’m not going to stop this just because you beg.” His hand pushes yours against the floor to knock you down, figure towering over you as he leans in to whisper- “—although, they’re very pleasant to listen to.”

“Honestly, I don’t get why you are struggling right now. It’s so easier to accept your eventual fate. Unless, you do like to seek pain.”

His other hand goes over your stomach, then slides tantalizingly slow up your body- you shiver and tremble at each touch that is too foreign to you. Cold fingers cage your neck and you choke on your breath.

“I’m not planning on hurting you, angel.” His voice is still gentle, but his eyes are telling another story, they seem keen to hurt you again and again. “But I did say I’ll resort to other… methods. Since none of them seem to work, I suppose the only solution would be caging you with a baby.” When your eyes widen, he laughs dryly. “The look on your face tells me that you didn’t expect it. But you will be my loving wife, dear. You will not be able to run or reject me, not when your own child is at stake. It makes only more sense to… make you bear children. My children.”

As he watches you struggle under him, trying to breathe, he feels like he has entered ascension. Soon, one of your pretty fingers will have his ring, and very very soon, he will have his first child- the very thought of him makes him lose his mind. He so wishes to make you his, claim you inside, watch your pretty pussy gush out his cum while he’s pressing deep into your womb- but he also wishes to see a mini version of him, or you. He finds it too adorable to withstand. He will vow that his children will grow up pure and innocent.

“We will be the happiest family in the world,” he purrs. “And I’ll make sure of it.”

#BྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིOOTHILL ⇢ will try to prove himself

。maybe a little similar to aven. but while the latter will materialistically give you things and spoil you around to convince you, boothill will more likely show himself off instead. 。“i can fudgin’ shoot an ipc lackey in the head from miles away, sugar- ya can’t see that ‘n any other guy.” 。he’ll try to show you his capability to protect you- which will likely end up in multiple people dying but as a galaxy ranger, he has morals, so he will probably use the ipc as his shooting dummies 。overall he’s sweet even if you reject his proposal- he will likely be furious, just not at you. 。oh lord but during the day you rejected him, be prepared for multiple news flashes of dead people across the street. the amount of emotion will be too much for his consciousness to restrain 。when you confront him, he’d apologize, albeit a little too nonchalant. 。“‘m sorry sweetie, got a lil outta hand last night.” 。per your wish, he won’t kill anyone who’s unrelated and innocent- but he’d still go on a killing spree in the ipc headquarters to the point you are blacklisted on their list because he would shout your name and rant why you didn’t accept him while he shoots his gun all around the place.

“BOOTHILL, what the hell are you doing?” You frown when he returns- even after rejecting his proposal, he drifts around you like a lost stray dog. And he is always covered in blood, looking furious- but when you talk, his expression simply melts away like butter to a grin that shows his sharp teeth.

“What do ya mean what I’m doin’? Makin’ sure nobody hurts you.” He snickers. He smells like metal, like he always does, but this time it’s overpowering, which lets you know what he’s been doing.

“I don’t need protection, Boothill. You can just leave me alone.”

You’re beyond annoyed at his clinginess. No matter how many times you reject him, he’d always come back, showing something new off to you, and half the time it wasn’t anything pleasant, but rather his list of crimes.

“Aww, don’t be so uptight, sugar.” He chuckles and flashes a grin and his other metal hand spontaneously pulls you into his embrace— you jump. When did his hand get there? “All I wanna do is to make sure my future wife is safe and sound. Nothin’ wrong with that, hm?”

“I told you, I’m not going to accept-“

“Ah ah! Wait and see, you will be, I promise. But don’t drag the chase a lil too long. Even I get impatient.” Something cold pressed against your forehead and you realize it’s his gun. When your expression turns aghast with fear, he barks an amused laugh.

“You scared of this? Nah, I’d never hurt ya. Won’t wanna turn your body into metal like mine.” Although he says this with a dark smirk, he doesn’t remove the gun. “The sooner you agree to it, the merciful I become. Ya don’t wanna see innocent guys die because of your stupidity, hm?”

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Bestiary (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Your husband and you do not speak the same language. During your wedding night, you find out that High Valyrian and the Common Tongue pale when compared to the way your bodies allow you to communicate.

Warnings: Heavy smut, not much dialogue. P in V sex. First time.

A/N: Who would have thought the most enthusiastic consent I have ever written with Daemon would be in a fic with nearly no dialogue?

Being coached through your wedding vows is not a good omen for your marriage. At least, that is what your husband must think, by the thunderous look on his face. You fight the urge to scream at him that you have practiced for this moment and that you do not need to be coached through the vows. It would be no use. The two of you do not understand each other.

Everything is strange to you in Westeros, from the language to the wedding ceremony. They make you cut your lips and hand, in a procedure you do not enjoy. Your husband does the same. Your blood flows into a goblet, from which you will have to drink later on.

It's barbaric. You suppose it must symbolize the joining of bloodlines in the crudest way.

At least Daemon kisses you at the end, a cold brush of his lips against yours that tells you he is still mad. He had probably felt betrayed, being forced into this arrangement you entered willingly.

If you had known he was that petty, you would have not shown your hand so fast. Your father had wanted dragons, which meant becoming part of House Targaryen. Daemon was the only one available for you to ensnare in your web.

As any good hunter, you had watched your prey first, taking notes of his behavior. Only an afternoon was needed to understand you started the race with a disadvantage. His eyes followed Princess Rhaenyra, Princess Rhaenys and her little daughter, but never lingered on other women.

While you might have lacked the silver hair, you did not lack the wits and charms necessary to be taken in consideration.

You had needed a few days to ready your song, but you had approached him not even a week later. He had been sitting in the library, so you had knocked on the table twice to draw his attention.

Daemon had lifted his eyes from the scroll he was reading, annoyed. He had a handsome face, decorated with age lines that only served to make him look more regal. He looked more the part of the King than his brother, a decaying corpse that you had heard had also acquired his own nubile bride.

Such was the fate of the daughters of powerful men. Sold to other powerful men, old enough to be their fathers, birthing them their own litter of sons and daughters. Sons that would grow up to become powerful men in their own right, daughters that would become pawns to establish dynasties. On and on it went.

Daemon had spoken then. His words were much harsher than those of the language you were used to, lacking the airy song of the languages similar to the one from the Rhoynar. You had not understood. You did not speak a lick of the Common Tongue.

No silver hair, no words, but plenty of resources. You had placed the book you had brought with you on the table, and looked at him.

His eyes had lit up with curiosity. He recognized the title. He spoke again, intrigued.

Despite his tone sounding much more auspicious, you had no other option than to shake your head and speak, with a tremulous voice.

“Bodmagho.” It's the only word you know, one that you have prepared especially for this. But just in case your pronunciation is not perfect, you open the book and mimic the gesture of passing the pages.

Daemon looks stunned. He says something else, still in the Common Tongue. You were able to tell from the intonation he was asking a question, but you didn't know what it was about.

“Bodmagho.” You repeated, stubbornly. You placed your book down and pointed to it.

Daemon sighed. He pointed to the chair. You sat, happy as a clam.

“Prince Daemon.” He pointed at himself. Then, to you. “Lady…?”

You told him your name. He nodded.

“Daor.” He shook his head. “No.”

You stared. He shook his head again. You understood that no, daor and shaking head meant the same.

“Daor. No.” You shook your head. Daemon squeezed your shoulder, a proud smile on his face.

Your father told you that afternoon that you were to be married to him. Just as you had made efforts to catch Daemon, your father had been setting his trap.

Daemon did not oppose, nor encourage the match, but he was angry at you. Angry that you knew before him and tried to charm him into doing your bidding.

Men like him, you learn, like to be the ones pulling the strings. They hate being treated like hounds, even if that is what they are.

You get no further lessons.

This is how you manage to get to your wedding feast only knowing two words. Teach and no. It makes you the most riveting company, and so, it's no wonder you are soon ushered into a chamber with your new husband.

You had not noticed before, but it is the first time you are alone with him since the morning at the library. To you, it had been a matter of no consequence. You had to marry a powerful man, one day. Your father decided it should be him because he wanted dragons. It was as simple as that.

As a rich man, your father had known rich men only get richer at times of unrest. And unrest was coming for the Seven Kingdoms. He could smell it in the air, hear it in the whispers of the common folk. Princess Rhaenyra wasn’t going to inherit without issue.

Your family moved here for that reason. An opportunity to get richer could not be dismissed. Your father had taken one look at the dragons and decided that they were the key to turning his legacy into an empire.

Giant war machines that could level castles in one afternoon. Raze a city to the ground in mere hours. Fire so hot it could melt stone. They could not be bought, you had to be a Targaryen to have them. It was only natural to turn into one, then.

Your children would get dragons. You would provide funds and as many children as you could, and House Targaryen the magic in their veins. Simple business transaction. But apparently, Daemon disagreed.

His face is thunderous. You can tell he is about to berate you. He starts talking, brows pinched together and an accusing finger pointed towards you.

Has he forgotten you do not speak his language? You step closer and poke his arm, hard.

It was the wrong choice. Daemon's face turns even more murderous. His lips twist into a snarl, teeth bared. His posture turns aggressive. He puffs up his chest, he advances on you. The Prince tries to intimidate you through his body language alone.

You are not a small woman. But you are young, and you do not train as much as he does. His looming over you feels menacing, and it reminds you once again of the fate his late wife was rumored to have suffered.

This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. Daemon is forcing you to walk backwards, pushing your forehead and nose with his. You either move, or get a broken nose and a concussion.

Daemon is terrifying. You will not cross him again, you think to yourself. Only a fool goes around poking dragons with a stick. You feel your palms starting to sweat, a knot forming in your throat. You fight the urge to cry.

The back of your knees hits the mattress, and you fall into the furs with a small noise of surprise. Your husband does not lose any time. He gets right into your face, trying to intimidate you even more.

But if you hope to survive this marriage, to make it work as your father has requested, you can't bend. Daemon will never respect you if you do. He will see you as no more than a frightened girl, who will not disagree with him and serve for little beyond warming his bed. You are not that. You will build an empire, a dynasty out of his dragons and your wealth. The only thing you can do is persevere or break trying.

Daemon scowls at you. He notices the change in your eyes, the fight coming back to you.

“Daor.” You say, staring him down with all your might. It doesn't matter if you are lying down, and he is hovering over you, pinning you under him. You will triumph.

Daemon doesn't heed the warning. He starts tugging at the buttons of your bodice, tiny pearls sent flying all over the room. The gesture is as brutal as it is calculated. It is meant to remind you of your place, always under him from now on. Daemon has a right to your body, and he intends to exercise it as he sees fit. You are no more than an object, and if you cry or scream, it is not relevant.

Despite knowing why he is doing it, you can't avoid grimacing. He looks more beast than a man, snarling over you, ripping your clothes. It's a sight that would scare any woman, no matter how cold.

You look up at him. You give him your own little snarl. Daemon pauses. It's not the reaction he was expecting. He wanted you to cry. You would never give him the satisfaction.

It's a balancing act. You will have to bring him to heel, but soothe his pride in the next act, less he turns on you. Push away a man too much, and he will think you are disrespecting him. He will call you names, thinking you are the problem. Daemon feels entitled to you. You need to show him he is not, but that you are giving yourself to him. He needs to value you. The treasure to his dragon.

“Daor!” You say, firmly. You push him away. Whatever he anticipated, you giving him a fight wasn't something he was prepared for. It shows in the way he folds, stunned by your behavior. You give him hard little slaps to the chest, until you manage to get him off you.

Daemon's scowl turns more confused than angry. He looks at you as if you are a particularly challenging riddle to crack. He rightens his clothes and starts to retreat.

“Daor.” You repeat, grabbing at his shirt to keep him in place. You do not want him to leave.

Daemon wretches free from your grip on his arm. He mutters something, angered.

“Daor.” You use his trick against him, stepping right into his path and forcing him to back off. You use your body to make him advance backwards, toward the bed.

He sits on the edge of it, still scowling. You giggle, making Daemon madder still. You look at him with what you hope is a seductive expression and pull your bodice down.

“Bodmagho?” You ask him, as your dress pools around your feet, leaving you in a sheer shift. Daemon's eyes darken. His expression changes into an amused smile, and he gestures for you to come to him.

You do. You step closer and get on his lap. His hands envelop your waist, warm and calloused.

Then, the unexpected. Daemon grabs your hair and pulls, forcing your head back. You moan, pain and arousal mixing into an unknown emotion that makes the place between your legs slick.

You can feel his breath against your neck, making you shiver. His face comes closer, and closer. Daemon stares into your eyes, lips slightly parted. You mirror his expression, feeling as if you are being consumed by your lust.

He arches an eyebrow. Never been one to shy away from a challenge, you brush his lower lip with his thumb. Daemon parts his lips and sucks it in his mouth.

The shock must have shown on your face because he laughs, giving your thumb a playful bite. You squirm, instinct overpowering modesty, and roll your hips against his.

The two of you stare at each other. Closer, and closer, until his features blur, until two purple eyes turn into one. A dragon turned cyclops by the mere force of lust. There is hunger and want, and confusion. Both of you are so close that you are sharing the same air, the same breath. And Daemon pulls, and you are kissing, and you shake in his arms, feeling like how you think the gods must have felt when the cyclopes formed the lighting.

His hands go to greedily knead at your thighs, slipping under your shift. His palms feel rough against your skin, impatient. The shift rides up, up, up. You mewl against his mouth, desperately reaching for something unknown to you but that you know Daemon will help you reach.

You are restless as he pets you, biting at your mouth, hands sinking in his hair. You tug him towards your neck, knowing his kisses, scorching hot, would burn even sweeter along your nape and ears.

Daemon, though, has other plans. He pulls away and pecks you on the lips. “Vūjigon ” He says. He touches his mouth. “Vūjigon”

You kiss him, softly. “Vūjigon”

He pets your hair.

“Vūjigon.” And he points to his collarbones. You frown in confusion, thinking perhaps the word doesn't mean what you think it does. He sighs and leans in, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the space between your collarbones.

“Vūjigon.” You perk up, and start kissing his shoulders. Your hands pull his shirt more open, letting you bite and lick more of his flesh. The urge to consume and be consumed is overpowering, making you desperate to touch him.

Daemon laughs. He pulls you upwards. Can't he see you are starving?

“Daor.” He says, when you try to go back to it. You give him your fiercest pout. Daemon tuts at you.

He squeezes one of your breasts, making you moan, before cruelly twisting the bud. You gasp, your nails digging on his naked shoulders.

“Shhh.” Daemon soothes you, his hand going to squeeze your breast tenderly once more. “Daor?”

You don't know how to tell him what you want, so you grab his hand and make him pinch the tender bud again. Daemon smiles. He kisses you, muttering something fervently on your lips.

He lays you down on the bed, despite your attempts to sit up. Daemon pins you down with a growl, hand on your chest.

You can't help it. No matter the warning, you squirm as if you were in pain. It certainly feels like it. There is some sort of hunger in your belly, making you want to rub your core against him. You can feel your shift starting to become wet right above your tailbone. Daemon has you so bothered you are dripping into the shift and the bed.

Daemon gives you another growl and leans down to bite your breast over the fabric of your shift. It's meant to be punishment, but you arch into it, gasping.

He laughs. He takes as much of it as it can fit in his mouth, sucking greedily. The noises are obscene. The sight must be, too. Your mouth, open, moaning yourself into a frenzy. Daemon, nipping, biting, sucking, like a man starved. Your shift with two giant wet spots, one at the chest and the other by your arse.

You moan, surprised at the feeling. You had never thought bodies could be used in such a way before. Nor had you hoped for him to please you so eagerly.

His lips close around your bud. His tongue twirls around it, lavishing it with attention. You grab at his hair, his nape, desperately trying to hold onto something. Daemon just sucks harder on your breast. You moan, and moan, and moan some more. Desperate little sounds, gathering in the air around a desperate girl.

He switches to your other breast. Your shift feels sticky on your skin, so you start trying to take it off. The task distracts you enough for his hand to find its way to your core, and you squeak at the first sensation of his fingers against it.

Daemon smiles against your skin. He presses a finger inside you, and you squeal some more. He lets go of your breast to better gaze into your overwhelmed face, seemingly getting an enjoyment out of it.

Another finger joins the first. You cry out. It stings a bit. Daemon shushes you, kissing your cheek. He rubs at something above your opening that makes you squirm in delight.

His other hand comes into your sight. Daemon makes a gesture, two fingers together, separating. You stare. He nuzzles you, his cheek against yours, before repeating it.

You nod with a pout.

He starts prying you open slowly, this time. Despite enjoying causing pain, it appears your cooperation has granted you privileges with Daemon. He understood the distress on your face, and read you correctly enough to know it was not going to go well if he kept going as he was.

Daemon rubs at your shoulders, soothingly. You understand you need to relax, and force your body to do so. He kisses you in reward, slow and sweet, coaxing you to him.

You nod again. Daemon moves back, settling himself by your side. He takes your shift away, pressing soft little kisses to each new inch of skin revealed.

The sudden removal of your last layer makes you shiver a little. Your skin is wet from his previous ministrations and rapidly cooling. You plaster yourself to him, seeking warmth.

He chuckles, grabbing your arse to move you slightly out of the way. You scowl, not sure why Daemon is doing so, until you realize he is taking off his breeches.

“Daemon.” You whisper, softly. There is a part of you that is already cringing at the promise of pain the loss of your maidenhead will bring.

“Daor?” He asks you, one of his hands petting your cunt. It makes you shiver.

“Bodmagho.” You grasp at his shoulders, steadying yourself. Daemon lines the two of you. You feel his member at your entrance, holding you open and threatening to spear you apart. It feels scorching against your skin.

He helps you impale yourself on his member. It's not pleasant at first. Property dictates that you should not let him see your discomfort. You should just bear it like a good wife and allow him to chase his pleasure unbothered.

But you know Daemon enjoys causing pain. He thrives on it. So you let your eyes fill with tears, and your face goes slack and overwhelmed.

He smiles. He licks your tears away, and mumbles something. You squeal, and it only excites him more.

“Bodamagho.” Daemon pinches the flesh on your hip, clearly calling you to focus. His hands move your pelvis back and forth, back and forth, until you are hissing in pleasure, your hands on his chest, doing the movement yourself.

“Vūjigon.” You demand, moving your hips just like he taught you. Daemon is too focused on aiding you bounce by thrusting upwards to pay attention to you. When he doesn't obey, you give a tug to his hair.

He snarls at you. You snarl back. So he grabs your wrists and pushes sideways, and suddenly, you are under him and Daemon is still thrusting into you.

You are desperate for closeness. You scrunch up your face and wrap your legs around his back. Daemon looks down at you, and bites your shoulder. He is not pleased with your perceived attempt to take control.

Realizing your mistake, you shake your head.

“Daor.” You rub at his back with your foot, gently. You hold him close, and nuzzle his neck, delighting in his scent. Never you had thought before you would enjoy the smell of sweat and some sort of aromatic oil, yet here you are. “Vūjigon.”

Daemon's expressions softens. He leans in and gives you a kiss. You make pleased, chirping noises, trying to show him that was precisely what you wanted.

He complies, releasing your hands. You enthusiastically hug him. It helps you anchor yourself against the unrelenting waves of pleasure.

His hands, now freed from yours, are everywhere. Twisting your buds, rubbing at your pearl, squeezing your waist. Daemon whispers nonsense in your ears, takes the lobe between his teeth. He aids you, tilting your hips with his hands, reaching deeper.

You heard a story once, about Westeros. A white hart was said to come to the greatest Kings alive. A magnificent beast, tall as a man, with skin made of the purest snow and antlers as long and imposing as the branches of an ancient tree. If a King encountered it, it was a good omen for his rule. It would be just and prosperous, blessed by the Gods.

What did they do with the hart? Keep it in Kingswood, perhaps? You had made the mistake of asking, once. You had been told that they used the best spear they had. That men held the hart down, and they gutted it from head to belly.

The perfect, regal beast, fur as pale as snow. The pristine white sheets under you. Blood tainting the white. What a way to go.

You understood then why they called it a small death. You were sweating, squealing like a beast being gutted, thighs trembling under Daemon's hands. It was too much and too little, and you felt yourself reaching it, yearning for it.

You did not care if you burned, moth to a flame, maiden to a dragon. Daemon seemed to realize it because his hand went to rub at your pearl, and he leaned in.

“….” He was talking, but it was in that strange language of his, and your ears were ringing, you felt about to explode. Your body responded to his tone, though. Gentle, loving, coaxing you over the edge with a scream so fierce you might as well have been one of those weeping women that appeared far north.

Daemon grinned at you. A fierce, proud expression, eyes crinkling in the corners. You pulled him into a kiss, and raked your nails down his back, feeling the skin yield like butter under your fingers. It spurred him on, and with a gasp and a bite to your shoulder, Daemon was shattering inside you.

He collapsed on top of you with a laugh. You smiled. Daemon pulled you to rest, back flush against his chest, and you understood each other better than those who spoke the same, common tongue, did.

[help-im-a-gay-fish]

But we all end up the remains of the day...

HAPPY HALLOWEEN YALL!!

Sooo I watched The Corpse Bride again this year, and I was suddenly inspired!!

So I asked @zu-is-here to redraw this fab piece from 2020 in my style.

I really hope I did it justice, because I had great fun turning up the corpse part! hehe!

Happy Halloween, everyone! I hope you all have a good night! Stay safe and kind this year :)

Original shattered dream belongs to galacii

Original cross jakei95

Original Dream by jokublog

Some more versions under the cut, just because I'm really proud of it, hehe.

BOO 👻

Bonus Nightmare

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗪𝗘𝗥𝗘 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗦 - part four lando norris x  fem! streamer! reader (fluff) “. . . lando finds himself addicted to playing video games with this girl he cant get out of his head.”

( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests ) ( previous | next )

“This is pointless” he thought tiredly as he turned to sleep on his other side, only to feel frustrated anger boil in him soon enough. Lando's been restless for a good few hours now and he feels like he's losing his mind. The Japanese Grand Prix week had ended and he still couldn't shut his eyes for the day.

He felt angry, and agitated. He didn't even know what drove him to pick up his phone and dial your contact. What was that going to solve, bothering you with his problems? Besides, it's a bad idea because it's 1am at yours. He'll just hang up and pray that sleep takes him.

Well, his phone didn't stay on his nightstand for long because as soon as you called back he had practically smashed the green button and pressed the phone to his ear. Lando opened his mouth ready to throw complaints, only to stop short hearing you yawn, which he hated to admit that it helped his heart rate calm down faster than you can blink.

"It's one in the morning, Lan." You yawned, shuffling to find a comfortable position where you didn't have to hold your phone up.

"I know— I'm sorry." The brit sighed, rubbing his eyes, laying on his back and looking up at the ceiling. "I'm sorry I woke you up." His voice came off as soft, he was clearly sorry. You could hear how tired and exhausted he was too.

"No, it's ok," you shook your head. "Tell me what's wrong." Lando sighed, staying silent for a few minutes, trying to search through his thoughts. Why was he feeling this way?

"I saw the race." You hum after a few moments, snuggling into your bed sheets as your phone rested on the pillow somewhere beside you. "That overtake was amazing." Your little tired giggle made Lando's heart skip a beat as he rested his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.

"I was watching you on TV. My roommate thought I was crazy. Maybe I was being a bit too loud. Maybe I wanted my voice to reach you aaaaalll the way in Japan so you could go faster." You joked, chucking softly at the idea. Lando found himself smiling at the thought, imagining you jumping and cheering for him.

"How would I go any faster?" Lando chuckled, feeling his muscles relax and his eyes close.

"I don't know? You're Lando Norris. You drive super fast cars." You tease, making Lando laugh at your reference to his twitter bio. How you always make the minutes feel yellow and joyful, he'll never understand. The call has only been on for 13 minutes and you've already made him feel much better and lighter.

"Yeah," he nodded agreeing, feeling his smile widen. “I drive super fast cars.” He agreed with a happy sigh. Yep, he definitely felt much better now that you're here, even if you're not physically present.

It was as if you were mending him with magic. Not with stitches or bandages, or glue. No need for needle and thread, or having to change gauze or having to put layers of glue. You made Lando feel as if he was glowing.

"What's your favourite movie?" He asked out of nowhere. You took a second or two before giving your answer.

"I think I'll pick . . . Corpse bride." you hummed as you shifted to sleep on your other side. Lando's eyebrows furrowed in surprise at your choice. 

"Corpse bride? Why Corpse Bride?" You chuckled and shrugged. 

"It's a good movie. It makes my heart feel . . . I can't explain it. It's just a good movie." Lando thought for a second, scratching under his eye. 

"Well I'll have to come watch it next time because I've never watched the full thing." You gasp at his confession, making him laugh. 

"How dare you?" You pretend to be offended, making Lando and you laugh for a good few moments. "What about you? What's your favourite movie?" You ask. Lando held his breath before pulling it out. 

"I'm not sure. It keeps changing every now and then." He shrugged, finding himself smiling.

"That's a very Lando Norris thing to say." Lando found himself laughing, face heating up. 

"What's yourrrrrr," Lando paused for a second trying to think of something. "Favourite colour."

"Oh! Green for sure." You nodded with a hum. 

"Green? What type of green?" Lando asked further. 

"No, no, it's my turn to ask. What's your favourite colour?"

"Fluorescent yellow." Lando answered without hesitation. "Now. What type of green?" He asked the question again. You hummed for a second. 

"I'd say, like, the green on your helmet. But like, with purple. But not fluorescent purple. A not so dark purple" You nodded. The brit found himself smiling heavily, cheeks burning. He's glad this was a voice call, otherwise he's not sure how he'd hide his face from you. 

“You like my helmet’s colour?” 

“Hey, pretty boy. It’s my turn to ask.”

The questions went on until you decided to invite Lando for a small game after he kept insisting that you should fall asleep. but you kept declining, insisting to give him company so he's not alone, not mentioning the fact that you heavily enjoy his company and voice.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Huge farm." Lando commented as he walked his little avatar around your house and crops. 

"Yeah," you nodded. "been playing this game for a long while now." You hummed smiling as you followed Lando around.

"Oh look! An NPC!" the brunette started running circles around the kid making you chuckle.

"That's my son." You say and immediately get a gasp from the other side of the call.

"You have a son?!" You found yourself laughing. "How'd you make him?" You found yourself laughing even harder at the question.

"What - do - you - mean?" You asked between wheezes, barely being able to breathe. Lando was even angrier when he found out you divorced your husband, insisting you file for child support.

"I'll marry you, Y/n! I'll look after you and your son." Lando said confidently, running in circles around you this time. “I’ll support you financially and be the father figure he needs. Marry me, marry me, marry me!”

"I think-" you tried to catch your breath, wiping tears of laughter. "I think I have a ring." You say and can immediately hear Lando's excited squeal from the call.

"I'm gonna get married before Max! Ha!" You thought you were going to drown in dopamine at this point, hugging your stomach as you offered Lando the ring. "WAIT, I DIDN'T PREPARE A SPEECH." He panicked.

"Most amazing and beautiful lady in all the lando-" The guy was too stressed in his thoughts that he accidentally said his own name instead of land, which was not helping you calm down from your laughing fit. "IN ALL THE LAND! I meant in all the land!" he corrected himself quickly.

"Y/n dev L/n. Will you marry me, lLando, in this RPG pixelated game and take my last name," he said quickly. "Wait! wait." He shouted, cutting himself off. You saw your screen flash with colours, seeing Lando open his camera and lamp. "Will you, Y/n devs L/n marry me." The Brit repeated holding his hands as if he was opening a ring box.

You bit your lip to suppress a smile, turning your own camera and setting it to lean on the heap of texts on your night stand. The PC on your bed illuminated your face just enough. Lando felt his heart hammer in his chest seeing your smile and eyes. So sleepy yet so effortlessly beautiful to the point butterflies swarmed his stomach.

"My, sir Lando. I would love to marry you." You nodded sheepishly, trying to brush your messy hair to look a little more presentable despite you both looking like a stuffed animal that got chewed on by a dog. You had thought Lando was naked at first glance but turns out he was sleeping in his underwear. You were no better,  in a mickey mouse shirt with also no pants.

Lando put his hand over his heart, pretending cupid had shot an arrow through. "Oh, my wife." He sighed happily, making you laugh and blush.

You felt . . . some sort of way after this fake proposal. It was only in Stardew Valley. But you still felt something stir in your heart, seeing Lando's genuine smile. For a moment, you both forgot you weren't actually married, spending the rest of the night doing couple things and having the fake wedding which you recorded for memory.

[xuzuitengenx]

CORPSE BRIDE AU : Getou Suguru x Male Reader

Emily : M!Reader

Victor : Geto

Victoria : Gojo

A/N : SINCE ITS HALLOWEEN SEASON, I THOUGHT TO MAKE THISSS— ALSO I CHANGED THE ENDING A BIT BUT IT ENDS THE SAME AS THE MOVIE!!

"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty for I will be your wine." Geto lifts the cup, making eye contact with the man before him, M/N.

"Now you." The skeleton gestured to M/N.

Smiling softly at the black hair man, he spoke his vows.

"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.." M/N picking up a bottle of poison instead of a cup.

"Your cup will never empty.." Before M/N continued further, he pours the liquid into the cup that Geto was holding.

"For I will be–" M/N stops, seeing a familiar white hair man named Gojo Satoru who was watching the ceremony that involved his fiancée.

Stunned, M/N's eyes still remained on Gojo, repeating the last sentence once more until he draws the sentence out again.

"Go on." The skeleton urged as Geto held a slight confused look.

"Your cup...will never empty.." M/N looked at Geto as his eyes moved back to Gojo.

"For I will be..." M/N held hesitation, eyes snapped back to Geto.

"–For I will be your wine." Geto finishes for M/N as he lifts the cup to his lips until M/N places his hand on top of the cup, pushing it away which made Geto look at him in more confusion.

Whispers began at the action M/N just took.

"I can't.." M/N whispers to Geto.

"What's wrong?" Geto asks, going to look behind him as M/N has been looking there. M/N's hands prevented him on doing so as he held Geto's warm cheeks, moving his head back towards M/N.

"This is wrong...I was a groom. My dreams were taken from me.."

Geto listens as he watches a tear fell and roll down M/N's cheek.

"Now...Now I stolen them from someone else.." M/N took a breath, looking at Geto with a soft gaze.

"I love you Geto, but you're not mine.."

Geto looks at M/N as his eyebrows rose. M/N removed his hands off of Geto's cheeks and gestured his one skeleton hand out to Gojo.

Geto followed where M/N's hand was gesturing to and saw Gojo there.

"Satoru.." Geto whispers his name in shock as Gojo began walking to Geto, wearing his tux like the other two men.

Gojo laid his hand on top of M/N's and M/N grabbing Geto's and he entwined the couple's hands together.

The right couple looks at each other with smiles. M/N looks at them before he starts to walk away.

"Wait, I made a promise.." Geto says, walking towards M/N. M/N turns to Geto.

"You kept your promise. You set me free.." M/N lifts his hand that had the wedding ring that Geto accidentally proposed to M/N with and takes it off.

Holding the ring, M/N used his other hand to grab Geto's once more, placing the golden ring in his palm and making Geto's hand close.

"Now I can do the same for you.." M/N smiles, admiring Geto's beautiful features one last time before walking away from Geto forever.

Leaving Gojo and Geto to live their happy lives together.

[sturniolosiphone]

Mrs. Officer

I made this for my best friend and had nowhere else to post this so sorry if it's shitty the last time I wrote fan fiction was in 2012 about One Direction (I also don't know how to add the cool pics yall do)

**Hardly proof read**

“I make her wear nothing but handcuffs & heels and I beat it like a cop”

y/n’s POV

It’s been five months since Nate ended things with me and by this point I thought I would be healed from everything he put me through but I still find myself missing parts of him. I miss the status it gave me, I miss the chaos, I miss the holidays back in Boston and being surrounded by his family and friends. Well, except Chris, I do not miss Chris. Chris has been in Nate’s life since they were small and was always around throughout our two year relationship - I tried so hard to gain a connection with my ex's best friend but no matter what Chris was standoffish and cold. We all go to the same small university in Pennsylvania and my sorority and their fraternity always have events together so keeping away from them has been challenging. Lately I have been mostly keeping to myself and trying to stay away from any mixers or events because I can not face them and honestly it’s not even Nate who gets under my skin the most it’s Chris. When he sees me around campus he acts like he has never met me or rolls his eyes at me or makes some snide comment about what I am wearing. I am sure Nate has told him that I do not care for him but he is the one who was a dick to me first and at this point he needs to grow up. Tonight is Halloween and I have decided I am finally going out tonight. I am known as the party girl in my sorority and my absence has not gone unnoticed and I can not give Chris Sturniolo the satisfaction of thinking he is controlling me and I will make sure to wear a costume that will really piss Chris off.

Chris’ POV

“Do you think y/n is coming tonight?” I asked while mindlessly scrolling on my phone. 

“For the tenth time Chris I have no fucking clue if she is coming tonight. Why do you keep asking me? If you care so much, text her” Nate rants. 

“Assuming I care about that bitch is really bold kid” I mutter, still not looking up from my phone.

 “I mean you were the one who was interested first until I slid in and stole her from you” Nate teases. 

“That was almost two years ago” I roll my eyes. ”I am just happy you are the one who got stuck with her” I smirk at Nate.

I can't grasp what exactly makes me tick about y/n. Was it the fact Nate purposefully went after her once I showed interest? Was it the slutty outfits she paraded around on campus? Her smart mouth? I can’t figure it out but all I knew was she drove me crazy and made my dick twitch.

“Let’s get ready for the party, people will probably start getting here soon” Nate says, startling me out of my train of thought.

“Yeah, okay” I nod, getting up from the couch. 

y/n’s POV

“Are you sure this looks okay?” I say while staring at the full length mirror looking at myself in every angle possible. It’s not that I’m not confident I just want my comeback to be memorable. I decided on being a sexy cop wearing a crop top, a badge, short shorts, a hat and functional handcuffs. 

“Yes y/n you are slaying! Nate is going to be so pissed.” Madi beams back at me in the mirror. I shake my head and stifle a smile. As much as I don’t want to see him it would be fun to remind him of what he had. 

“I don’t want this night to be about him” I say, turning to Madi, looking into her eyes. Madi is dressed as the corpse bride. “I am honestly going to do my best to steer clear from him and his douchebag of a friend.” 

“No no I agree, you just look really good” she squeezes my hand. " I wish Chris wasn’t such a douche, I mean he is pretty hot.” Madi giggles.

“I would never.”

As we start nearing the Fraternity house my nerves start getting the best of me and my stomach starts to turn. I slow down walking, trying to catch my breath and Madi notices. 

“Y/n I love you but I am not letting you talk your way out of this one. You can not let them control your life. After a couple of drinks I am sure that you will relax and this house will be packed. You might not even see them.” Madi assured me. I nod my head, run my hands over my face and let out a deep breath.

“Okay..fuck..okay let’s go” I say while grabbing her hand and we take off towards the house. 

Chris’ POV

The music is so loud and my head is swimming..I think I may have pre gamed too hard. My nerves are shot at the thought I may see y/n tonight after what feels like months without properly seeing her. She hasn’t been around much and I would know because I scope out every event looking for her but I know Halloween is her favorite. She would always make Nate carve pumpkins and bring her to haunted houses. He complained to me the whole time but I would have done anything to be in position. To watch how scared she would get and hold her and make her feel safe. No matter how hard I tried I was always a dick to her while she dated my best friend..I was just so fucking jealous and couldn’t stand the way he treated her and she just let him. Fuck, I need to get some fresh air. I start making my way out the house when some girl I am pretty sure I hooked up with last semester stops me.

“Oh my god are you supposed to be Steve Harrington from Stranger Things?” she slurs.

“Yeah and I am guessing you’re supposed to be Eleven?” I ask flatly. 

“How did you know?! Yes! Can we please take a picture together?” she smiles.

“Yeah whatever” I put my sunglasses up on my head and bring my bat up.

“Thaaaannkk you Chrisss” she says hardly being able to stand. I just nod and try to find the nearest exit of the house. I step out onto the porch and close my eyes. Maybe y/n won’t come tonight. 

“Madi please stop walking so fast these shoes are not meant to do fucking track and field” I hear y/n yell and my eyes fly open. 

“Sooorrry y/n” I hear Madi sing while skipping.  

Before I can retreat back into the house, y/n spots me. Madi grabs her hand and they start making their way up the stairs to the front door.

“Chrisropher” Madi snaps.

“Madi” I snap back. 

Y/n walks past me without looking in my direction. Of course she would be wearing some slutty costume. I absent-mindedly adjust myself before saying “Come y/n it’s been so long, haven’t you missed me? No hello?” I smirk.

“Fuck you Chris” y/n spits. 

y/n’s POV

“Okay I hate to laugh but the fact that Chris was the first person we saw is kind of crazy” Madi laughs once we enter the packed living room. I laugh and roll my eyes.

“I definitely need a drink after that, do you want one Madi?”

“Yes please”

 I walk towards the keg and wait in line. I’m actually not as shaken up as I thought I would be after seeing Chris. I will just never understand his issue with me but I am not letting myself ruminate on it. I fill Madi and I’s cups up and as I turn around I can feel the liquid spill down the front of me. 

“Oh shit sorry…wait y/n! A little birdy told me you were here I guess I didn’t believe them” Nate says.

“Hello Nate. Yeah I’m here and now my costume is ruined thanks to you.” I grumble as I grab napkins to wipe myself off. 

“How are you?” Nate slurs. “I am sorry for all the like shit I put you through y/n really I am” he pouts while putting his hand over his heart.

“All the shit? Do you mean cheating on me for two years with multiple girls? You mean humiliating me in front of everyone? Is that the ‘shit’ you are referring to?” I snarl.

“You know Chris always told me that you were just some dumb girl and I really should have listened to him. You can't even take a sincere apology from the man who made you who you are.” Nate boasts.

“Made me who I am?” I laugh. “Nate you are a president of a Fraternity get the fuck over yourself my god.” I yell. I make my way back to Madi with two half filled cups.

“Umm..what happened to you?” Madi asks, scanning my face while grabbing her cup.

“I don’t even know it’s so packed in here. I just kept getting bumped into! I am going to go to the bathroom and clean myself up!.” I can’t let Madi know what happened between Nate and I. I don’t want to ruin her night but I just need to have a little bit of alone time.

“I can come with you if you want! Maybe help you with your costume?” Madi offers.

“I’m okay, thank you” I offer her a smile.

“Keep your phone with you y/n, I mean it” she says sternly. I salute her and she rolls her eyes. 

Chris’ POV

“Wait you spilled a drink on y/n? Purposefully?” I ask Nate while standing in the kitchen.

“Not purposefully but whatever she deserved it” Nate states. “You should’ve seen the look on her face once she realized it was me.” Nate laughs.

“You do realize that you are the one that cheated on her and made her life a living hell?” I ask, feeling my face get hot.

“What? Now you suddenly care about y/n’s feelings? Didn’t seem like you cared too much when you were trying to convince me to break up with her for two years” Nate responds while putting his hand to his chin while pretending to think hard. “But you know I could always tell you wanted her” he wags his finger at me.  “You wanted to feel her mouth around you didn’t you? You wanted to hear her moaning your name, right?” Nate taunts.

“You better fucking watch it kid” I say while shoving Nate. 

“Okay enough let’s break it up” some random guy yells while getting in between Nate and I. I decided to head to the bathroom to try to cool off. I don’t know why I have been such a prick to y/n when Nate is obviously the issue. Great, no line to the bathroom. I try the door and it's locked. Of course. I knock loudly on the door.

“Yo, is anyone there?” No response. “Hello? Come on bro I have to go” I yell over the loud music. I put my ear to the door and I can hear the water running and sniffing. 

y/n’s POV

I feel like such an idiot while I stand in front of the mirror trying to desperately get this sticky beer off of me and fix my makeup. Why am I even crying? This is such a pathetic state to be in at a party.

“Yo, is anyone there?” someone yells. “Hello? Come on bro I have to go.” 

I freeze. It’s Chris. Of course it’s Chris, why wouldn’t it be Chris? Please god get me out of here. The excessive knocking is making my head hurt.

“WHAT?” I yell throwing the door open to be met with a startled Chris.

“Were you crying in there? Chris asked with his eyebrow slightly raised.

“Nothing gets past you huh?” I say while trying to get past him.

“Oh no you are going nowhere” he says while pushing me back in the bathroom and locking the door behind him.

“What is your fucking issue with me Chris?” I snap.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about y/n '' he starts.

“Spare me the bullshit you haven’t liked me since the day we met and I haven’t done anything to you!”

“Haven’t liked you that's rich” Chris mocks. “Haven’t liked you y/n? You have been all I thought about for two fucking years but you chose Nate.”

“What? What are you talking about?” I ask wondering if I heard him right. Chris sits on the side of the bathtub and puts his face in his hands. Chris sighs.

“I don’t know what I am saying” he mumbles through his hands.

“I mean you can start off with a sorry perhaps” I say while prying his hands away from his face. He looks up at me and smiles and rolls his eyes. 

“I am sorry y/n I really am. I don’t know why I have treated you the way I have for so long. I think I may have been jealous of you know like your relationship or whatever” Chris confesses.

“What? Did you think I was trying to get in between you and Nate? I never wanted that” I say while putting my hands up defensively. Chris giggles.

“You really are dense, aren’t you?” he stands up towering over me. “I wanted you y/n..just you” he stares down at me. I feel like I am being pranked, is there a camera in this bathroom? Is Nate outside listening? 

“Don’t fuck with me Chris” I whisper and shove his chest. “This isn’t funny at all. You act like you don’t even know me anymore. It’s been five months and this is the first time we’ve held a conversation and you want me to trust you? I can’t.” I say holding back tears. I have felt so alone after the breakup and I can’t handle being taunted.

“No I get that” he says while tucking a hair behind my ear “I have been really shitty towards you and I guess if I was you I wouldn’t trust me either but I am serious “ he tips my chin up forcing me to look into his eyes “I have wanted you for so long, Ma” he licks his lips. I involuntarily squeeze my thighs together looking for any type of friction.

“Chris” I whisper.

“And that fucking outfit jesus christ y/n” he smirks down at me. “Turn around for me baby..bend down in front of the sink” he whispers in my ear. I’m fucked. I turn around slowly and see my flushed face in the mirror and bend down. Chris tuts.

“No, don’t get all shy on me y/n. I have heard you in Nate’s dorm. Look in the mirror.” Chris demands. 

Chris’ POV

I look in the mirror and see y/n’s flushed face. I can tell she’s breathing heavily with the way her breath is fogging up the mirror. I press my clothed hard on against her and she bucks her hips back. “You’re such a needy girl aren’t you? I have been waiting for this for so long Ma you have no idea. We are going to take our time. Can you be a good girl for daddy?” Y/n nods her head. “Words baby”

“I’m going to be a good girl Chris” Y/n says breathlessly. I back away from her and she whimpers. My hand meets her ass with a loud crack which makes her jolt. “Who are you going to be a good girl for?” I tease. 

“A good girl for you daddy..always a good girl for you” she whimpers. I can tell she’s embarrassed with the way she keeps trying to hide her face. 

“And I want you to watch y/n I want you to watch yourself while I touch you okay? I want you to see all the pretty faces you make” I lean over and whisper in her ear. She nods again. “Words y/n. I’m not going to tell you again.”

“Yes daddy,” she moans. 

“Pull your shorts down.” I watch as she pulls her shorts down as I palm myself through my jeans. No underwear. I lock eyes with her in the mirror. “No underwear y/n? You’re such a slut huh? Look at you clenching around nothing” I tut. “I bet you wanted me to find you like this with your shorts off bent over the sink with your pussy soaked” I laugh. 

“Please” she whines. 

“Please what baby?” I taunt. 

“Please daddy please touch me I need you so bad”

y/n’s POV

I never would have thought I would be begging Chris Sturniolo to touch me but here I am bent over a sink with my pussy on full display for him. I have never experienced anything like this before. Sure Nate and I had sex but never like this and I’m almost scared I won’t be able to take it. Chris gets on his knees and starts kissing up the back of the thighs and I can feel myself dripping down my legs. 

“God look at you Ma, you look so pretty” Chris says and while wiping up my slick and putting his fingers in his mouth letting out a satisfied moan. I clench begging for something, anything at this point. “And look at how you respond to me, you're such a good girl.” Chris spreads my legs and buries his face in my pussy and focuses on my clit. 

“Fuuck Chr…Daddy.” I moan out. He swirls his tongue around my entrance before plunging it fully in making my buck my hips against his face. “S-Sorry Daddy I didn’t mean to move.” I plead. 

“No baby it’s okay I want you to fuck my face like the little slut you are” Chris says while grabbing my ass. I start fucking myself against his tongue and I can feel my legs start to shake. 

“I’m close..I’m so close” I pant and Chris snakes his arm through my legs and starts drawing lazy circles around my clit. “Yes please just like that…nghhh..fuck fuck I am going to cum” I scream out and I see stars while I ride out my orgasm all over Chris’ face. 

Chris’ POV 

Y/n turns her head to face me and giggles. 

“What?” I smirk. 

“You still have all of your clothes on” she laughs. I stand up and she turns to face me and grabs the back of my neck. Our lips smash together and I let out and moan as she bites my lip and runs her hands through my hair. She grabs my sunglasses off of the top of my head and places them on her eyes, breaking the kiss. 

“Against the wall Daddy” she barks at me trying not to laugh. 

“Oh are you giving orders now?” I smirk. I can feel a wet spot sticking to the tip of my cock. 

“Well I am the cop you know? So..against the wall” she stands on her toes and whispers in my ear. I back up against the wall and watch her unbuckle my belt. 

“Shirt off” I whisper while taking her police hat off her head and running my hands through her hair. She surprisingly listens, taking her shirt off. “Bra too” I say. I watch in awe as her tits bounce. “Fuck y/n. You are stunning.” She pulls my boxers down and my cock springs out hitting her face. I hiss at the cool air. 

“You’re so big daddy” she looks up at me through my sunglasses. I just nod and lick my lips. I don’t know how long I am going to last if she keeps looking at me like that. She kitten licks the tip of my cock and I can’t help but buck my hips forward burying my cock in her throat. She hums around my cock making me throw my head back. 

“You’re taking me so well fuck. I want you to get yourself ready for me okay baby? Stretch yourself out for daddy” I instruct her while I watch her finger her pussy. I grab her hair fucking her throat and watch her gag and spit on my cock. She grabs my balls and gives them a firm a squeeze. “Fuck yeah Ma, just like that. You going to swallow all of me y/n?” I moan out. She nods and looks up at me through her wet eyelashes. My hips stutter as I squeeze my eyes shut and cum down her throat. 

y/n’s POV

I make sure to lap any cum with my tongue as Chris winces at the sensitivity. 

“You are fucking unreal y/n” Chris laughs. 

“Oh I know” I wink back at him. 

“Are those handcuffs real?” Chris nods at the handcuffs left on the top of the toilet already getting hard again. 

“Yeah” I smile shyly back at chris. “They’re real” 

“Stand up, turn around and hands behind your back” Chris demands and I do as I’m told. I know he had me stretch myself out but I can’t help being a little nervous considering he is way larger than Nate. Chris walks over, grabs the handcuffs and cuffs my hands behind my back. 

“Bend”

I bend over the sink and glance up at Chris who is just staring at me. 

“What?” I ask nervously looking at his reflection in the mirror. 

“You just look so good I can’t even believe my eyes bro” Chris says dumbfounded. 

“Calling me bro right now is crazy” I say rolling my eyes.

“Right..sorry officer” Chris winks at me and lines up with my entrance and grabbing my hips. He slids into me slowly without breaking eye contact. He is so fucking huge. 

“Jesus y/n your pussy was fucking made for me” Chris moans and bottoms out. I can feel him in my stomach. “You tell me when to move baby…you’re taking me so well, such a good girl for me” he soothes me while rubbing my back. 

“S..slow please move slow.” I whine out. Chris starts moving slowly and I rock my hips back starting fuck myself back on his cock.

“Yeah baby, you're doing so good. You look so pretty fucking yourself on my cock for me. Can I go faster?” Chris breathes out. 

“Please daddy” I moan. Chris wastes no time and starts to pound into my pussy. 

“Deep breaths baby you can take me, fuck you’re so wet” Chris mumbles and lifts my leg up until my knee is on the sink. “Fucking look at you Ma so fucking good for me” he pants. I just nod my head. “Have I fucked you dumb baby? Too tired to talk to your daddy?” Chris laughs.

“Gonna cum” I mumble out, hardly able to talk.

“Go ahead baby cum all over my cock make a mess all over me y/n” Chris grunts. I scream out cumming all over him while babbling. Chris continues to pound into me.

“Dad..dy too sensitive” I whimper.

“I know baby I’m almost there, so good for me” Chris huffs out. “Can I cum in you baby?” he questions.

“Please daddy please come in me” I beg.

“Yeah want me to fuck my baby into you? Want everyone to know you’re mine you dirty slut” Chris’ hips stutter filling me with his hot cum. We both hiss while he pulls out of me. 

“Here let me get those cuffs off of you, do your arms hurt?” he says, looking concerned.

“Just a little but I’m okay though” I smile at him. Chris helps me clean myself up and presses a kiss to my forehead.

“I really hope this isn’t it. I’d really like to hang out more, you know? I have a lot to make up to you” Chris says.

“I don’t think this will be the last time Chris but I really have to go find Madi” I laugh. 

“She’s going to kill you” he says while shaking his head.

“I know I have 40 missed calls”

[dolljunk]

Here is my Emily the Corpse Bride custom with Skelita's leg and forearm inserted onto this Abbey Bominable body.

I didn't want to crack open the upper torso cuz I can never make it look nice so I ended up carving away at the upper arm to look like a skeleton, and custom matched it to Skelita's fore arm.

As for the leg, I didfn't know what to do, so I just use an exacto knife to score across the crotch seam line enough that I could wedge a screwdriver in and cracked the hips open. I did it to Skelita too and was able to ease out both legs. Skelta's leg perfectly slotted into Abbey's hip and I reglued the crotch area. It's not a pretty mod but I'm happy I was able to swap the whole leg in.

I also custom painted an Ever After High hand to match the Abbey arm too so she's definitely a hodge podge of parts.

[the-prettiest-teardrop]

Mike Schmidt HCs

Pairing- Mike Schmidt x Artist!Reader

Warnings- Spiders, nightmares, panic attacks, Mike worries he isn’t good enough, tooth rotting fluff.

A/N- Thank you guys so much for supporting me! I’ve posted so many headcanons, so sorry about that.

———

𖡎 The only reason he was able to stay awake during his shift was because he knew he had you to come home to.

𖡎 He would cuddle into your chest, humming in contentment when you played with his hair.

𖡎 Whenever he had the day off, you guys would order pizza and cuddle down on the couch to watch a movie with Abby.

𖡎 If he came in the room while you were sketching, he’d peek over your shoulder to see what you were doing.

𖡎 He loves watching you teach Abby how to draw, he thinks it’s sweet how close you two are.

𖡎 Begs for you to use him instead of pinterest references or whatever else you use.

𖡎 “Baby, I don’t understand why you are looking for photos of other people to draw when you could just draw me.”

𖡎 He actually gets worried if you don’t call him a pet name.

𖡎 “Mike? What? What happened to ‘baby’? Are you mad?”

𖡎 Comes up behind your, arms around your waists to whisper shyly in your ear.

𖡎 “D’you think you could teach me a few things, so I can connect with Abby?”

𖡎 You guys watch Coraline, The Corpse Bride, Nightmare Before Christmas, etc.

𖡎 Abby’s favorite movie is Coraline, even if it terrifies Mike.

𖡎 He’s a little worried, but calms down a bit when you tell him it’s your favorite movie.

𖡎 It can’t be bad for her if it’s your favorite, he can’t find anything wrong about you.

𖡎 You’re his savior, he practically worships you, and honestly, if he thought there was a god, he thinks it would be you.

𖡎 He doesn’t want to get up in the mornings, so you have to coax him out of bed with kisses and cuddles.

𖡎 This man will not shower without you, and that’s that.

𖡎 Totally will ask you if you took your meds before you leave the house, he doesn’t want you to have to go without them.

𖡎 He sleeps better with you there, when you hold him, he feels safe enough to get sleep.

𖡎 If he does have a nightmare though, you guys will go sit near a window and watch the stars until he’s calmed down enough to get back to sleep.

𖡎 And if you struggle with nightmares or get panic attacks at night, he’s getting you water and holding you until you’re okay.

𖡎 He never wants to see you upset. 

𖡎 If you have a rough day at work, he puts on music after Abby is in bed and makes you slow dance in the kitchen with him. 

𖡎 He secretly loves Rom-Coms, and makes you watch them with him, no matter how awful they are.

𖡎 Back with the spider headcannon, so beware.

𖡎 This man is terrified of spiders, but is also too scared to squish them and feels bad killing them, so he makes you take them outside.

𖡎 Whenever you two are walking somewhere together, he has one arm around your waist.

𖡎 All I can think about is forcing him to do face masks with you.

𖡎 He kinda hates it, but you have fun and that’s all that matters.

𖡎 Sometimes you have to remind him how good he’s doing, when he sees all the people he knew in high school getting married, getting fancy jobs, he feels like he’s not enough.

𖡎 “I just- you could have better.”

𖡎 It took a while to get him to be able to celebrate his accomplishments without feeling guilty.

𖡎 He doesn’t take you out on many dates, but does sweet things at home.

𖡎 Sometimes he’ll try his best to make cookies, or he’ll make you coffee in the mornings.

𖡎 He’s really just a sweet guy, who wants to make you happy at the end of the day.

𖡎 He actually gets worried if you don’t call him a pet name.

𖡎 “Mike? What? What happened to ‘baby’? Are you mad?”

𖡎 Comes up behind your, arms around your waists to whisper shyly in your ear.

𖡎 “D’you think you could teach me a few things, so I can connect with Abby?”

[rea-grimm]

His clothes - Luffy, Sanji, Zoro

Dragon Luffy

It's okay if you want to borrow some of his stuff, but don't be surprised if he wants to borrow something of yours.

His hat is one of his treasures and he is just as careful about it.

You are always waiting for opportunities when you can borrow his hat without problems.

Luffy was sitting in his favourite spot on the bow of the ship when a strong wind blew his hat off his head - you managed to catch it - Luffy was right next to you and wanted to take it from you when you put it on your head.

"That's my hat," he said, tilting his head to the side.

"Can I borrow it for a moment?" you asked him sweetly, smiling at him. The way you laughed in his hat, he couldn't say no.

"Just for a while," he finally said, but you had to sit with him on the bow of the ship - he sat behind you, hugging you around the waist - that's how he could have you with his hat.

Corpse groom cook Sanji

He doesn't mind if you want to wear something of his because he thinks you look cute in his stuff and will be happy to buy you something to wear in the next town.

Sanji still has a ring with him that he is saving for his bride-to-be, which he has on display on his desk.

You didn't go to his room for a while when you noticed the ring, it immediately caught your attention and you had to try it on - the silver ring fit you like a glove.

Suddenly there was a scream on the deck, you ran there and completely forgot about the ring.

When things calmed down on board you decided to go help Sanji in the kitchen, he was always happy when you were there with him.

You were cooking together when Sanji noticed the ring and his cigarette almost fell out of his mouth.

At first, he'll think you're engaged to someone else, and he'll fall to his knees, that was a blow he didn't expect, he wants to know who stole you from him.

He takes your hand to beg you to change your mind when he notices it's his ring.

Instant change of mood, he has hearts in his eyes “That ring suits you so much!”, he's going to ask for your hand in marriage.

Either you accept it or reject him, it's up to you - if you reject him, expect a valley of tears - then you have to calm him down, which will make him happy because you care for him.

ely promise him that you won't marry him right away, but only later - this will give him the hope he needs and bet that he will start looking for the best ring in the next city.

Tiger Zoro

He has no problem lending you a coat when you're cold, but his pride must not suffer.

Sometimes you steal his chat when Zoro is sleeping and you're bored - you steal his coat, put a bandanna on your head and try his fighting poses with your weapons.

Zoro wakes up to the sound of laughter - still sleepy he finds himself being imitated in front of the others, he is startled when he notices that you have nothing on under his coat - he was instantly on his feet.

"End of the show," he said and he walked behind you and hugged you from behind with his hands covering your chest (even though you  didn't have anything on underneath you had everything under control)

“I'd like this as a private show,” he growled into your ear and you felt your cheeks flush as you knew full well what he meant as his tail wrapped around your leg.

Luffy Masterlist

Sanji Masterlist

Zoro Masterlist

[charliedawn]

slashers(Jason,Michael and Brahms only) with beautiful undead yet friendly bride Reader who is like Emily(from Corpse Bride) and She refers them as Her "Victor" (btw,are you fan of Tim Burton? if not then that's okay)

(Here you go ! Thank you for the request and indeed, I am a big fan of Tim Burton. Hope you’ll like it 👍)

Jason Voorhees:

Jason was scared half-to-death (see what I did there ? 😂) when he saw that rotten bride just sprang out from the very earth he usually buries the bodies of his victims in. Not gonna lie, he kinda ran back to his cabin when he saw you—‘cause if his mama taught him anything ? It was that dead people don’t come back to life for no good reason. The poor boy locked himself up twice. But, it wasn’t enough to stop you. You eventually came in and started haunting him. He tried to shoo you away at first because Jason likes his loneliness, his space. Actually, he doesn’t like people in general—dead or alive. So, Jason tried everything to get rid of you. He swung his axe at you and tried to catch you or trap you, but all his efforts were fruitless. He finally gave up and let you haunt him. But, he didn’t regret it. As you are a ghost, you could guard his home and warn him of any danger nearby. It was nice having someone watching over his back for once.

…But then, you saw it.

The machete that killed you.

On his wall.

You looked back at Jason and your undead heart squeezed in your chest. Had he…? Was he the one who had killed you ? On your wedding day nonetheless ? Wasn’t he your Victor ? And if not. Who was he ?

Brahms Heelshire:

Brahms likes to play pretend. He dreamt of having that special someone he could one day propose to and have his happy ever after moment. He was thinking about it and had one of those gummy rings he had saved from his snack time. He was in the forest and had decided to have himself a little repetition for the unforeseeable future and that’s when he saw one peculiar branch that looked like a finger. He didn’t think more about it and did his little game of pretending…and when he put the ring on the finger. Well…He certainly didn’t expect some half-rotten bride to spurt out of the earth and shout:

"I DO."

But it did. That happened. And then, you wouldn’t leave him—not that he minded. Far from it. He was happy to have a wife (even though the kisses and hugs were a lil’ cold) He wondered about telling people about his…well…new ‘bride’. But, he thought better of it when he realised how lonely and sad you were. It didn’t matter that you called him Victor. Or Marvin. Or Hector. Or Derek for that matters…He would take any name if it meant you would stay and love him. And you had said ‘I do’. No takebacksies now.

Michael Myers:

Michael was confused when he first saw you sprang up from the earth. Weird. His victims usually stayed dead. He tried to stab you but…Oops. Already dead. He quickly realised that you must be like Jack Torrance—a ghost. He also understood that stabbing you would be a waste of time. He tried to ignore you, but you would then appear at random times and tell him that you were married and that he was your Victor. As Michael doesn’t speak, he couldn’t rectify you.

Hence, he became ‘Victor’ to you.

At the end, he learnt to tolerate your presence. Especially at night when he would normally sleep alone with his regrets, he would feel your hand stroking his head and your voice singing him lullabies…Maybe having a dead bride wouldn’t be that bad…?

One day, you showed him an old picture of you. He looked at it and you could see that something was bothering him. You asked him about it, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t tell you he remembered you. He didn’t tell you he remembered your wide frightened eyes when he plunged his knife deep into your heart the day you were supposed to marry…or the way he mercilessly beheaded your betrothed.

That was a story he would rather never share with you.