#dl writing prompt

[jazzystudios82]

Diabolik Lovers - An Angel's Embrace short story #3: A Green-Eyed Monster♡

DL Prompt #12: Jealousy

Pairing: Karlheinz Sakamaki x Angelica Amor-Sakamaki

"There is no greater glory than love, nor any greater punishment than jealousy."

This is another entry for @yuriko-mukami's DL writing prompt.

WARNING: This short story contains a jealous Karlheinz and an implied character death.

Let me tell y'all, this took way too long to make. This was originally going to be something else, but it was taking so long for me to finish and it probably wouldn't have made sense for the prompt, so I made it into its own thing. Also, this one might be a bit short and darker then usual, so sorry in advance. . . .

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The Sakamaki Mansion. . . . .

"Oh, he's so beautiful Angie!" Christa said softly, her gloved hands gently holding Angelica and Karlheinz's baby, the six month old Akira. The pink haired woman smiled at the sight of her son and best friend being rather adorable with one another, what with Akira trying to play with Christa's pinkish-white hair strands and with her making funny noises to get him to laugh.

"That's great to hear, Christa." Angelica said. "Now can I please have my baby back?"

"Oh, yes! Of course," Christa said as she handed the babbling Akira to his mother. "Here you go."

"Thank you dear," Angelica said. As she held her son in her arms, the pink haired woman and her friend walked out of Akira's nursery, both planning to head out to the garden for tea time. Angelica and Christa hadn't really had much time together since Akira's birth, but they managed to make some time for themselves (and Akira) today.

However, while on the way, the two ran into none other than Cordelia and Richter, the first wife and younger brother of Karlheinz respectively. "Oh! I'm sorry, Christa and I didn't see you two." Angelica said, apologetic.

Cordelia narrowed her eyes at Angelica, and after glancing at Christa and Akira, said nothing as she had Richter follow her.

Normally Angelica would be annoyed with the purple haired woman and the red eyed man for ignoring her, but she decided that it wasn't worth it. She was in a good mood today, and she wasn't going to let something as ridiculous as this ruin it.

As soon as Angelica and Christa made it to the gardens, they had gone to the gazebo where they had the butlers and maids set up not only their seats, and one for Akira of course, but they also had prepared some iced tea and mini tea cakes.

After putting Akira in his little chair, Angelica and Christa had sat in their respective seats and began to talk about their respective families, and how they were both planning on visiting them soon, Angelica especially. She wanted her father, younger brothers, and other relatives to finally get the chance to meet Akira, mainly due to how many letters she had been receiving over the last few months.

One of the reasons why she had delayed having her family meet her infant son was because she and Karlheinz wanted to ensure that Akira would have been healthy enough for traveling long distances. It wasn't common for vampires, or any demon really, to get sick, but Karlheinz claimed that it didn't hurt to be careful.

It had been only an hour into their tea party was when Angelica noticed that one of Karlheinz's personal familiars had arrived, nearly startling Christa, whose back was facing him.

"Lady Angelica, Lord Karlheinz wishes to see you right away. And that you are to bring the young master with you." he said.

"R-Really? Right now?" Angelica asked. "Yes, if that is fine with you."

Angelica tried to let out a sigh as she let out an apology to her friend, even though Christa said that she didn't mind. After getting out of her seat, Angelica got Akira out of his own little chair and carried him as she followed the familiar to wherever it is that Karlheinz was at.

.

.

.

.

Unknown Human Village. . . .

As it turned out, Karlheinz had been wanting to take both Angelica and Akira out to a nearby carnival that was going on in the nearby human village, as he'd been wanting to spend 'quality family time' with them, but hadn't been able to do so due to his work. And with the carnival ending tomorrow, he finished all of the necessary paperwork the day before.

Angelica herself wasn't really the biggest fan of carnivals due to how overcrowded and noisy they could be (and how that would affect Akira), but Karlheinz had assured her that he had been able to make a deal with the workers of the carnival to limit the number of people attending, so she wouldn't have much to worry about, which she appreciated.

So far, they had gone on a few rides, watched some performers (such as a sword swallower), ate some food from the stalls, and Karlheinz managed to win some prizes for Angelica and Akira, like stuffed animal toys and pretty accessories. Angelica thought that it would be difficult for Karlheinz to win as many prizes as he did due to her knowledge of rigged carnival games, but he was able to win with incredible ease. She just felt bad for the servants who'd have to carry all of the rewards back home.

Angelica noticed that Akira's diaper needed to be changed due to him starting to tear up and him emitting a certain stinky smell, and instead of having one of the servants take care of it, she told Karlheinz and the others that she was going to head to the nearest restroom and handle it herself.

It only took the pink haired woman a minute to change her son's diaper with a fresh one and throw the soiled one away in the trash. Akira, now feeling better, fell asleep against his mother's chest as she carried him in her arms.

'Hm. . . .where are they?' Angelica thought to herself, looking around for her husband and the servants. They didn't seem to be in the same area they were previously.

Angelica had gone to a couple of the stalls and asked the employees if they had seen Karlheinz and the others, but they had said no and apologized. However, there was one, a so called 'beast tamer' from a visiting circus from England, who told her that she saw a fancy white haired man with some servants heading to one stall that was selling jewelry.

Angelica thanked the beast tamer and used the directions the black haired woman gave her. Angelica walked around the carnival grounds to see that the human families were leaving, meaning that the carnival was closing soon.

'I need to get to them soon.' Angelica thought to herself, now starting to worry. 'It's almost close to Akira's meal time.' She also never really did well when she's by herself for a long period of time.

"Miss, are you alright?"

Angelica turned around to see a handsome youth wearing a black Men's cap, a white cotton shirt, black trousers, and black shoes. Due to his plain attire, Angelica assumed that he was a commoner, or at the very least somewhere in the middle class.

"I'm fine, I'm just trying to find someone right now." she told him, keeping her voice low so that Akira didn't wake up. "Who is it? Perhaps I've seen them around." he said, offering her his assistance. "Besides, a lovely lady like yourself shouldn't be alone when it's getting dark."

"Thank you for the concern, kind sir." Angelica said. "But I can assure you that I'm fine." She did have demon blood flowing through her veins after all. After all, what could a human do to someone like her? But she knew that she had to be careful as long as Akira was there.

"Now what kind of gentleman would I be if I left a woman unattended?" he said, causing Angelica to gently smile at the chestnut haired young man. "I wouldn't want anything to happen to you or your baby." He's a concerned one, isn't he?

"Alright, I suppose it wouldn't hurt." Angelica said. The youth smiled, and listened to the directions Angelica had as he escorted her. During the walk, he asked her who she attended the carnival with, to which Angelica replied that it was her husband.

The youth seemed surprise, though he then said, "Well, I suppose that it actually isn't that surprising. Of course a beautiful woman like you is taken. It also explains the little one."

"?" Angelica was confused by what he said, and perhaps a little flustered. Is this what her brothers called. . . .flirting? Or was he just simply complimenting her? She was probably over thinking it.

Besides, why would he flirt with a married woman anyway?

"So, what kind of games have you and your husband play earlier, miss?" the youth asked, trying to start a conversation. "Well, I didn't get to play any games myself really, but my husband did win a couple of prizes for me and our son." Angelica told him.

"Oh wow!" he said, his turquoise eyes sparkling. "How many?" "Oh, uh. . . .he may have gotten me and my boy a little over twenty." she admitted, a little embarrassed.

"OVER TWENTY?!"

Angelica shushed him, as he nearly woke up Akira. "O-Oh, sorry miss! I didn't mean to." the youth said. "It's fine. Just remember to-"

"Angie? Is that you my dear?"

Angelica turned around to see Karlheinz and the familiars, causing her to let out a sigh of relief. "Karl, there you are!" The pink haired woman walked up to Karlheinz, satisfied that she was able to find him. After giving her a kiss on the forehead and taking Akira out of her tired arms, Karlheinz finally noticed the human youth who had acted as Angelica's 'attendant'.

"Angie dear, who is this. . . .fellow?" he asked, his molten gold eyes practically burning holes into the poor youth, which Angelica noticed. "This is. . . .oh dear, I'm sorry sir, I don't think I ever asked for your name." Angelica said to the chestnut haired male. "I suppose so," he said, now nervous due to a certain white haired vampire. "I-It's Simon, m-miss."

"I see, thank you. Karl, this is Simon. He's the nice young man who offered his assistance in helping find you. And please be nice to him." Angelica said, whispering the last part to him.

"I. . . .will, my dear. Especially since he was oh so nice to you and our son." Karlheinz said with a closed eyed smile.

As Angelica went to go give the youth named 'Simon' a goodbye before the carnival's end, neither one of them noticed Karlheinz's mastered fake smile ever so briefly turn into a frown. He made a mental note to have his head butler send a letter of 'thanks' to Simon later.

.

.

.

.

Two Days Later. . . .

"As soon as Belle realized her true feelings for the Beast, she rushed back to his castle as fast as she could," Angelica said, reading a fairytale to Akira, who was laying on the carpeted floor of his nursery playing with his toys.

"However, when Belle arrived, she found that she was too late, and found the Beast laying motionless in the-"

"I'm sorry to interrupt my lady, but Lord Karlheinz wished for me to gift you this." a butler said, standing just outside Akira's room. The butler then presented a crystal glass bottle that contained what seemed to be fresh blood.

"What's the occasion for?" Angelica asked, putting a bookmark in the fairytale book she was reading to Akira from. Akira didn't seem to like the interruption to his story time, making Angelica feel a little guilty.

"His lordship has told me to inform you that even though there is no special occasion today, he wants to spend another day with you and the young master today: it'll start with a family picnic and it will be followed by a walk through the gardens. If you aren't busy today, then please go to the master's office as soon as possible."

"Oh my, that sounds rather lovely. Doesn't it Akira?" Angelica asked her son as she picked him up from the floor. Akira babbled as a response.

"I agree. We'll be there shortly, sir." Angelica told the butler.

"I see. How wonderful."

.

.

.

.

"I must admit, this is rather lovely Karl." Angelica told Karlheinz, who had Angelica rest her head on his chest. "I'm glad you think so, pet." Karlheinz said. And his brother Richter claimed he didn't have a romantic bone in his body. The idiot.

While Karlheinz wanted to give Angelica a kiss, he noticed that she was drifting off to sleep, causing to let out a chuckle. She looked rather cute when she slept.

The vampire king took out a soft pillow from one of the picnic baskets he had the servants carry and place Angelica head on it so he was able to move freely and she could sleep comfortably.

Karlheinz noticed that Akira was chewing on something peculiar. "?" Curious, the white haired vampire picked up his son and whatever it was that he was chewing on. He was a little amused to see that it was the special dish he had the chefs make for him: a meat pie that contained a very special combination that consisted of pork, ground beef and some vegetables such as potatoes and carrots.

"I see that you have similar tastes to me, my boy." Karlheinz said, ripping off the piece of the meat pie that Akira was chewing on. Akira babbled nonsensical words as he tried to eat the pie piece. "I should probably soften it more for you," Karlheinz said. Or maybe he shouldn't have given the piece to Akira in the first place. His son was only six months old after all.

He grabbed something else from the picnic basket, bringing out some a baby bottle filled with a certain youth's blood. "Here you go, my boy." he said with his infamous smile, the bottle in his gloved hand catching the baby's attention.

Karlheinz chuckled as he watched his son drink from the bottle, as the way the pink haired baby was treating it as if it was ambrosia made in Mt. Olympus. After Akira finished, he became tired, which made Karlheinz place the baby near his mother.

Karlheinz was now getting lost in his thoughts as he drank the blood of the human male known as Simon, who made the foolish mistake of 'ogling' at his wife.

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I just want to preface that the shorts for An Angel's Embrace will be told out of order, so sorry for the confusion. And in case you're wondering, the main butler in this story is supposed to be 'Gramps', who is the butler from the anime and the Young Blood manga.

Also, sorry if Karlheinz seems out of character in this. I'm still figuring out how to write him.

[tunastime]

hiccuping tears into the shoulder + ranchers by chance?

hiccuping tears into their shoulder (1087 words) (x)

For the first time in a good, long portion of his life, Tango despises how silent the night gets. It's not without its natural noise—the balmy, sticky humidity and breeze in the grass, or the crickets, the cicadas quieting down, the sounds of animals rearranging themselves to a comfier sleeping arrangement. He should be doing the same, but he's sitting on the edge of the bed, his spine a rigid line. He can feel the blood in his body, he can feel the spaces where his muscles connect to each other, with every breath he can feel his lungs separate out the oxygen. It's at the very least startling, and at the very most, he feels like he might dissolve on the spot if touched. 

Tango knows how death feels—painless respawn and a few seasons of a life game behind him, but to feel someone else die, too. The echo of death alongside your own. He didn't like that! Not good at all. All his blood and heartbeat-y things are rushing around in his ears. He doesn't even hear Jimmy the first time he speaks up from the other side of the bed, with how his voice scrapes out.

"I didn't know they were aiming for us," Jimmy says.

"Of course not," Tango says, furrowing his eyebrows. "I know you didn't."

He's still looking at his hands, running his thumb over the lines in his palm and pushing into the tiny bones and muscle there. Jimmy flexes his hands like he can feel the pressure and bones moving around. He watches him fold his hand tight around each other and slump, pulling his shoulders to his chest. His breath squeezes in his chest as Jimmy deflates tiredly.

"I just don't want you to think—"

"I'm not gonna think this is your fault, alright?" Tango says, frowning at him. "Why would I?"

Jimmy sighs. His jaw works.

"Cause it usually is," he grits. Tango scrunches his nose on instinct, recoiling out of habit before he manages:

"That's not fair, man."

"This whole game isn't far!" Jimmy huffs, waving a hand about.

"Sure but—"

"But nothing, Tango. I just—I can't lose and drag you with me. That's more than not fair."

"I don't care."

"I care."

Before Tango can argue, though, he tastes the faintest hints of anger and frustration at the back of his mouth fade. He watches Jimmy's face contort as he tries to come up with a better sentence, something he probably thinks Tango deserves. Maybe an apology. 

Tango just looks at him. He kind of feels bad, that little bit of gut wrenching cold that trickles in, but mostly he's just confused. Jimmy's words bat around in his brain like dust particles. Dust bunnies. He definitely assumed they were done with this. That maybe Jimmy made peace like he did—though really he hadn't had that much time to make peace, if he's being honest. He's still bitter. He's sure a lot of people are still bitter. But in terms of Jimmy's whole situation? It's not like it could be helped. They just had to be careful. So Tango was being careful, and Jimmy was taking what Tango thought was a calculated risk, so he was mad, sure, but he couldn't really stay mad for a long time. So he takes a long breath and sighs it out his nose. It still tastes surprisingly reminiscent of smoke.

"So what are we going to do?" he asks softly. Jimmy inhales.

"I don't know," he says. "Go to bed? Wake up and start planning?"

Tango hums plainly. He likes that idea. The small spool of feeling in his chest that must belong to Jimmy gives a little tug, like it wanted to take him down with it. 

"Yeah," Tango says, voice coming hoarse. "Yeah, I think so."

For a moment, Tango runs his tongue over his teeth, runs his thumbs over the seams of his knees. He sighs, and then he leans into Jimmy's shoulder with a definitive huff. He's tired. From the ache in his bones, to the breathlessness of dying, to just taking in Jimmy's stress. Man. He's exhausted. Jimmy snorts quietly. He feels him press his cheek against Tango's head. The hand Jimmy had been fiddling with in his lap ends up at the base of his spine, splayed over the fabric. Tango squeezes his eyes shut.

"Thanks Tango," Jimmy says shakily. He sounds like he's on the knife's edge of crying, so Tango fumbles out a hand and lands it solidly on his knee. It's not a terribly comfortable thing to stretch one of his achy shoulders or biceps that far but he does anyway, and Jimmy huffs out a damp laugh. "Guess I'm just... pissed off."

Tango snorts.

"If you think you're pissed, just wait until they rile me up," he says into the fabric of Jimmy's shirt. Jimmy laughs. Tango tries to hold in a grin that he also smothers into his shoulder, but fails. Jimmy's hand skips over his knuckles and squeezes the hand on his knee.

"Sure thing, Rancher," he teases. Tango makes a half-suppressed noise of indignation, squeaking as he bolts upright. He nearly knocks into Jimmy's jaw as he untangles himself with all the grace of a cat trying to weasel out of someone's arms. 

"I'm just sayin'," he grumbles, crinkling his nose. "You seem like you're in a better mood though."

Jimmy sighs, rounding out his shoulders. 

"Think so," he says, working his cheek between his teeth. Tango feels the sensation of prodding in his mouth. Bleh. "Think so."

"Probably a good idea to make good on that sleeping... thing,” he says, reaching up to scrub at his eyes. He barely stifles a yawn as Jimmy stretches, twisting his tall body around in a way that feels surprisingly pleasant to Tango’s stiff muscles. He can’t imagine, especially with the way Jimmy holds all his emotions in his shoulders, that his upper back is doing him any favors. Jimmy makes a little noise in confirmation as Tango turns, attempting to make ample space for him in the small bed. He knows they’ll end up back to back at some point, but as he lies down, shoulder to shoulder, an easy comfort rolls over him. Sure there’s all the red blood rushing around in his ears, and sure he feels it right up on his skin like a bad rash, but for now, next to Jimmy, he shuts his eyes.

They’ll make this time count for something, at least.

[diaper-dyke-m]

oh to be a little diapered princess whose mommy just keeps her in a sling so that she's physically unable to leave her mommy's side. just being attached to mommy all day long while she works, breastfeeds me, and bounces me to keep me happy.. the only times i get to come out of the sling are playtime, bedtime, and diaper changes

[linkito]

scarian 34 maybe.. but theyre in love..

#34 …to pretend.

Scar’s honestly not sure what Scott is on about with his whole Relationship Ranch thing. He’s not as obtuse as Grian is about it, pretending like their relationship isn’t mangled and strained, like the idea of couple’s therapy is entirely unfounded for the two of them, but— the goats? Really? Even at their worst, he and Grian aren’t stupid enough to get hit by a goat.

Even at their worst, they’re still a team. None of these trust-building activities are of any use to them.

The only reason Scar is going along with it at all is because of Scott. Scott who might know the most about the ins and outs of his and Grian’s complex relationship throughout these life games. But he’s beginning to have his doubts. Scott seems distracted.

Grian seems to have the same idea, because this time he calls Scott out when he pulls out his communicator for about the dozenth time. “Who do you keep talking to?”

Scar instantly dogpiles onto the accusations. “Are we not important enough for your undivided attention, doc?”

“No, you’re very important!” Scott protests, stuffing his communicator away. Scar narrows his eyes in tandem with Grian.

“Maybe he realizes we don't need this after all, G,” Scar says with a shake of his head, eyes flicking upward to watch for Scott’s reaction. As expected, Scott twitches nervously and immediately begins to wave his hands in placating disagreement.

But Grian speaks before Scott can. “Yeah, we’ve passed all your little tests, so what are you on about anyway?” With a disgruntled huff, Grian slots in beside Scar and crosses his arms, looking Scott up and down with the same level of scrutiny. “Scar and I are fine.”

It almost feels true when Grian is leaning into Scar’s space like this, taking his side like they have a common enemy, playing up the charade as much as Scar is to push at someone else’s buttons. On that rare occasion they’re on the same page, things do actually seem fine.

That’s possibly the worst part of it all— the almost fine.

Scott takes a moment to compose himself, now on the defensive as he speaks slowly and calmly. Unfortunately for him, however, he chooses the wrong words:

“But back in the desert—“

Both of their faces sour instantly, for different reasons perhaps, but they can both agree on one thing: that those words do not belong on Scott’s tongue.

Grian is partway through muttering a bitter “that’s none of your business,” when Scar chimes in with a theatrical twirl of his hands and solemn shake of his head, stepping forward so Grian is behind him and doesn’t have to address the unfinished accusation.

“Oh, Scott, come on now,” Scar says with a twinkle in his eye, slipping on the mask of a man not-scorned in order to pry himself from this situation. “That was then and this is now! People change! Relationships change! That isn’t always a bad thing, is it?”

Scott blinks, trying to keep up with Scar’s rapid-fire string of almost nonsense. “Uh.”

“Exactly!” Scar says, as if it were an agreement. He turns to face Grian, but keeps his feet pointed toward Scott, ever the actor, never fully turning his back to his audience. “But we’re perfectly happy, aren’t we now, Grian?”

Scar loops an arm around Grian’s back, tugging him closer and lowering his face so it’s level with his soulmate’s, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

His words pose a challenge, one Grian is intimately familiar. Scar rests his hand just beneath the base of Grian’s wings, where he used to hold onto when they embraced, when he would scoop Grian up into his arms and kiss him senseless while the scorching sun beat down on their necks. There’s that same level of firmness Grian had grown accustomed to paired with the gentle graze of fingers over his cheek from Scar’s other hand— that strong sense of security combined with unparalleled tenderness.

Grian doesn’t even realize he’s parted his lips, leaning forward in dizzying anticipation, acting on instinct alone, leaving all his senseless doubts behind as Scar slowly leans in closer, lips only a breath apart.

Scar’s hand trails over Grian’s cheek, ghosting over his jaw, then settling perfectly in place to hide both their lips from Scott’s prying eyes.

And then Scar smiles, and something about it is askew, something Grian can’t quite place— it’s too crooked, almost self-satisfied, almost—

And just like that, Scar pulls away.

“See?” Scar says, eyes flicking over to Scott, who, according to Grian’s short-circuiting brain, no longer existed at all. “Perfectly happy.”

It takes Grian far too long to realize those words were directed at someone else, or that there was not, in fact, sand at his feet and hot air brushing through his feathers. Scar is still speaking, and none of it is directed at him, because they aren’t alone atop a mountain of sand, in their own private corner of the world. They’re in a new game entirely, one where things are far too similar, yet not the same at all.

One where he definitely didn’t expect Scar to kiss him for real.

One where he definitely wouldn’t have let him.

“Grian,” Scar calls, snapping him out of his dazed state, and Grian hopes to god he doesn’t look too desperate when he glances up at him. “I’m pretty sure the rest of the server is tearing up our base looking for sugar cane.”

“They’re what??”

[autumnsunshine10]

They say keep it on the down-low

Nobody else needs to know

Don't give them the lowdown

It's not their business anyhow

Be human but set apart

Pretend you don't own a heart

Then it can't be broken

Divided into tokens

Inserted at the arcade

Another game to be played

Or a digital download

To keep them busy on the road

Serving up sold-out shows

Under the spotlight glow

A full house eager crowd

Getting so hyped-up loud

While you sit up at home

Waiting by the telephone

Well it's a good time to go

Since nobody needs to know

Prompts: on the down low; human but not; to be divided

[bphantom01]

New favorite trope:

Characters who found out they're actually related and argue abt who's the older one (they don't know who's actually older yet) (best works if they're twins/have same age)

[bellshazes]

can i get a little bit of DIA bdubs feelings towards scar and grian OR impulse flitered through the end of third life (scar wont kill me because i killed impulse because scar gave me a clock?) 👁

Having finally made sense of his past life (past lives) memories, Bdubs realizes too late the consequences of asking Impulse a favor. I think DIA flows into HCS8 in 'canon' but in a universe a little to the left, it precedes DL, so...

“Hey, thanks for this,” says Bdubs. It’s ten minutes past closing at the Southlands, and Impulse is the only one behind the counter. 

Impulse smiles at him, all genuine in a way that makes Bdubs’ stomach twist. “No problem, man. I’ll be done in a second, just gotta wipe the counters down. Have a seat.”

Bdubs obeys because he’s trying to be on his best behavior, trying not to be weird in public again. It’s been hard even now that he knows where all the strange deja vu and haunting feelings are coming from - sure, Impulse and him have barely interacted in this life, but he knows from his time as a ghost before it was Impulse’s wither that killed him, and the more he’s talked to Cleo about it all the more the clock from another even older life weighs on him.

But for all he knows, Impulse doesn’t know anything about it. He watches him clean with his chin propped up on one fist, Impulse humming under his his breath as he hangs up the towel with practiced precision.

“So you said you had this clock that’s not working,” Impulse says, taking the seat across from him.

Bdubs digs it out of his pocket, trailing his thumb along the weathered edges that never will get fully restored no matter how much he tries to polish it. “Yeah. Something’s stuck and I’m afraid if I try and take it apart I’ll never get it back together again. Etho’s mentioned you were good at tinkering before, so...”

“I’m not half bad,” Impulse says, taking the clock from his hands. He twists the crown and Bdubs knows he’s feeling the strain, something sticking internally. When he pops the face open, the hands are still. “I see. Probably just needs some careful cleaning, and I think I’ve got the right tools at home.” He brings it closer to his face to peer at the inner ring where the internal gears are visible and casually - too casually? - says, “Etho couldn’t do it?”

“Um,” says Bdubs. “He’d never let me live it down if he knew I’d let something this important break, since he complains all the time about me nagging him.”

“I see. You’ve had it for a long time - a gift from Scar, right?”

Bdubs freezes. “Is that - is this some kind of trick question?”

“An honest one,” Impulse says, head tilted ever so slightly.

“Clocks are important to me,” he retorts, more acidly than he means it. “Sorry, sorry, I’m making this weird aren’t I? Got to be better about that. It’s just, the concussion you know, it’s been really tough since then and now this stupid clock  not working, and everything. I shouldn’t have asked you to do this.”

To his surprise, Impulse laughs all full-bellied, setting the clock gently back on the table to wipe at the corner of his eye. Bdubs narrows his eyes, suspicious at someone out-weirding him. “No, don’t be sorry. We’re cool, you know that right? It all evens out in the end. It’s not a problem at all.”

Bdubs pauses. “You’re not... you don’t mean...”

“It was just a little joke! I got my revenge. I mean it that we’re cool now.” Impulse has the gall to wink at him. “Skizz and I talk all the time, you know. It’s not the clock.”

“Oh. Oh! Well, in that case,” Bdubs sputters. He doesn’t want to ask which revenge Impulse is referring to, the pretending or the incidental murder. It doesn’t really matter anyway, not in this life or the ones to come. “I’ll graciously agree to let bygones be bygones then, not that there are any byes to be gone. Going. Oh,  you get it.”

“I do,” Impulse says solemnly despite the sparkle in his eyes. “It’s an easy fix, I promise. I wouldn’t want to tarnish Etho’s good opinion of me, now that I’ve been recommended.”

“Etho’s good opinion is overrated,” Bdubs pronounces, relieved to be off the hook. “Uh, but if Etho says you’re a genius, I bet it’ll give you no trouble. Thanks, though. For the clock, and for being... cool about this?” It comes out as a question.

“Genius, huh.” Impulse nods, and moves to stand already. “Anytime. I gotta get going since it’s time to lock up, but I can drop your clock off at your place this weekend. Or... if you don’t want Etho to know, or you wanna talk about weird dreams you’ve been having or something, you know where to find me. Whatever’s good for you.”

“I’ll let you know,” Bdubs says, torn between secrecy and a well-developed sense of skepticism about people who promise to lend an ear and turn it around on you from years of hanging out with Scar. It’s more attractive an option than he expects it to be, but he’ll decide later. “I better get going too.

Impulse is smiling when he opens the door for him on his way out, since he’s got to lock whatever complicated mechanism is always getting the sliding doors stuck before shoving out for the evening.

Not this time, but maybe Bdubs will take him up on the offer, someday. It's not life-or-death here, he can't accidentally betray Impulse again, and maybe if he can have a do-over with Etho, he can have other do-overs too. He's got plenty of time to find out.

[transfemzedaph]

for the spotify songs #17 and if you feel comfy/can write for him pauseunpause. but if not, etho would be great <3

ough i wish i could write for pause </3 team canada beloved

Whoever's uniform you wear, No loyalties to hold or share, No burning hate, no bitter fear, No heart to break, so shed no tear

---

Etho wasn't sure how to deal with being bonded to someone else, let alone that person being Joel. He had to trust Joel completely, he had to stay by his side. Sure he could do what Cleo had done, maybe join her, he'd be safe from Joel; he was a formidable foe when he wanted to be. That wouldn't feel right though, Etho wanted to give this a chance, to trust wholeheartedly.

[jazzystudios82]

Diabolik Lovers: Camp Stoker (Midnight Horrors 2024) 🥀

Prompt: Camp Horror

Inspiration: Friday the 13th

WARNING: This contains blood, violence, gore, and death

This is my entry for @diabolik-lovers-weekly's "Midnight Horrors" challenge. I thought that it would be fitting to try and do a reimagining of the horror classic "Friday the 13th". If you haven't seen the original, then know that this will contain spoilers for it, but if you're someone who doesn't care about spoilers, then feel free to go ahead and read it. And another thing, this takes more inspiration from the 2009 remake.

——————————————————————————

Camp Stoker, 19XX

As the rain pelted down on the earth violently, a poor counselor ran through the dark forest that was near the camp, doing her best to not slip in the mud and let her pursuer catch her.

If she did, then it was over.

However, the counselor was forced to stop herself as she noticed a rather large lake in front of her. Its reach was far and wide, and unfortunately for her, the canoes were missing the paddles, meaning that she was stranded unless she found one in time or managed to find a quick short cut.

'Please God, I don't want to-'

Snap!

"!" The counselor was broken out of her panicked thoughts when the sound of a twig breaking was heard. The poor girl looked over her shoulder to see the one who was chasing and tormenting her all this time: the deranged looking Christa Sakamaki, who was welding a silver knife in her pale right hand.

"P-Please, Mrs. Sakamaki, just let me go!" the counselor practically screamed. "I won't tell anybody that it was you! I just want to-"

"How. . . .HOW COULD YOU?!" the woman named Christa Sakamaki shouted, silencing the frightened and injured blonde haired counselor.

"My poor Subaru. . . .he drowned in the lake because of you and those. . . .those foolish idiots! Instead of doing your jobs, you all left to 'fool around' like deviant w*****! YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN WATCHING HIM!" Christa yelled, tears escaping her red eyes as she leapt at the young woman.

The counselor unfortunately knew what Christa was referring to: a year ago, Christa's six year old son had gone to the camp with his older half brothers for a summer of fun. He unfortunately was the only of the Sakamakis to have not gone back home on the final day of camp. Because of this, Christa and her husband, the politician Tougo Sakamaki, tried to get the camp shut down, but were unable to do so, thus leading to Christa taking matters into her own hands and this moment.

The counselor was able to dodge in time, causing the pale woman to land in the mud as a result. The counselor turned back and made a dash back to the now evacuated Camp Stoker, as Christa had brutally slaughtered the other counselors she deemed responsible for her son's death.

The poor blonde had managed to get into an empty cabin and close the door in time, making Christa shout in anger as she banged on the door violently. The counselor looked around the cabin and after seeing a machete, which belonged to one of the older employees.

Glad that she had a weapon to defend herself with, the counselor quickly grabbed the machete and as soon as she heard the door to the cabin slam open and Christa's scream, the counselor swung the machete with all of the strength she could muster.

She felt that was effective in what she had hope to accomplish: incapacitating Christa and giving her enough time to call the police. It wasn't until she heard a gurgling sound and what may have been the sound of flesh being pierced.

"?"

The counselor opened her eyes to see that she had unintentionally decapitated Christa, whose head was now lying on the bloody wooden floor, next to her motionless body.

'D-Did I. . . .Did I actually-'

Before she could fully process what happened, the sound of police sirens and the paramedics arriving outside the camp. Someone had entered the cabin, though the counselor wasn't sure who it was as she was still in shock with what happened.

Officers and medical professionals did their best to get her to speak about what happened, though not a single one was successful. As they got the girl into the ambulance, not a single one of the officers and medics noticed a white haired boy watching from the bushes.

.

.

.

.

Subaru wasn't really sure what happened to him a year ago. One minute he was swimming with his brother Shuu, and the next he ended up on the shore of a lake that was far from the camp.

Fortunately for him, the red eyed boy knew some survival tactics that helped him survive, what helped him continue to go on was the hope that his family, particularly his mother, were out there looking for him and that he'd be home again.

But that was in the beginning, back when he wasn't as thin, dirty, and angry. His anger was especially flared up right now.

Subaru was nearby when he heard the all too familiar sound of his mother's voice. He attempted to get her attention when he reached the camp, only to watch her get beheaded by one of the counselors.

Naturally, he feared for his life, so Subaru hid when he heard the sirens from the distance. And while everyone was distracted, Subaru had snuck into the cabin and took his mother's decapitated head and the silver knife that she was wielding and snuck out back into the woods.

Subaru had taken the head of his mother to a nearby cave, where he silently wept for what felt to be hours.

He wasn't sure when it happened, but over time, he heard her voice again. She was telling him that they deserved to be punished for what they did to her and him.

.

.

.

.

Present Day. . . .

Counselor Yui Komori was looking after the other campers when she heard one of them telling some of the younger kids the local legend Subaru Sakamaki, a mysterious and silent killer who was said to have slaughtered several counselors as revenge for letting him drown as a child and for the death of his mother, with his first victim being the one who beheaded his mother a year after the incident took place, which of course scared the young ones.

Yui herself was what one would call a skeptic. She never believed in stories about vampires, werewolves, ghouls, and other supernatural entities.

After telling the older campers to leave the younger ones alone, Yui went to go get one of the campers a water bottle because she was thirsty, however, as she was returning back to the camp fire, she thought she saw a white haired youth wearing a red plaid button shirt and jeans, but what caught her attention was that the youth was wearing a hockey mask that was completely covering his face. And in his right hand? A machete.

Yui's face turned white when she realized that his appearance matched the description of Subaru Sakamaki. But there was no way that that was actually him, right? He was just a local legend. There's no way that this was real! It had to be one of the other counselors pulling a prank!

But before she could get confirmation, one of the kids let out a little yelp, startling Yui. And as soon as her eyes turned to a different direction, the masked individual disappeared just as quickly as he appeared. . . .

——————————————————————————

In my honest opinion, I don't think I did a very good job with writing this. Sorry if it feels rushed.

[liesmyth]

may i humbly request a director’s commentary for any part of as long as it is day

omg omg very happily!! Writing that fic was a fantastic experience I love chatting about it

as long as it is day (The Locked Tomb, Time Loop, Gideon-centric; Gideon & John; Gideon & Wake; Gideon/Harrow)

Nonagesimus, you owed me so big. You spat on my gift of a perfectly good soul, you trapped me in the back of your head like a bad dream to be forgotten and brought me back to fight disgusting bloody wasps, and then you got me stuck in a nightmare whirl of the worst fucking night of my life. Which, you know. That’s really saying something.

This fic was written for a fic exchange for @augustmourn who had THE most beautiful collection of prompts ever. It was a struggle to pick only one to fill. I landed on the time loop idea and picked the ending of HtN because it's such a WTF moment for Gideon, with everything happening at once, and discovering who John and Wake are to her literally seconds before disaster.

I decided from the start I wanted Gideon to fight Heralds a lot and die a lot. I spent probably days sliding into @nikkicafeina's DMs to figure out the best John & Gideon's dynamic and we landed on John would be absolutely delighted to have a secret daughter!! who's also Harrow's cav!! That man loves finding His People. Meanwhile, Gideon who just watched John do HtN Act 5 would be extremely wary and pissed off at him. She is NOT impressed with her newfound father. Half the John & Gideon scenes in the fic are John going like, "Wait are you MAD at me?" and Gideon who reluctantly goes from "I want nothing to do with you but unfortunately you're literally God and I need your help to find my girlfriend" to, like... remembering that she grew up as a foundling on the Ninth daydreaming of the day somebody would come for her. She never had anybody before (Harrow is complicated) and now John wants to play cards with her while they're stuck in a time loop. Is he a good person? No. Does it matter? No. Nobody ever even pretended to care about her before.

Gideon & Wake was my favourite part to write. It was hard because Wake as a character is so complicated to me — the strength of her convictions but meanwhile she's sleeping with her mortal enemy on the DL! She will do anything to free her people up to and including killing millions! She only ever saw Gideon as a bio weapon but she says "I'm sorry" the first time they meet face to face! Ultimately, the version of Wake that Gideon meets is a revenant who only wants one thing. Gideon, who grew up talking to her mother's bones, has to put an end to Wake's mission because she needs John to help her find Harrow. As I said in the tags: the universe's WORST family reunion. I'm actually pretty proud of how the final Wake & Gideon scene came out because I gave myself feelings.

Random thoughts:

I love naming TLT fics after Bible verses especially when they are sort of ironic. This one is from John 9:4. “As long as it is day, we must do the works of him who sent me.” <- this means. Gideon baby girl you're not getting ANY sleep

I'm really pretty proud of how the Gideon voice came out ngl

Gideon POV grasp of the Lyctors and their dynamics was a blast to write. She does NOT care about the Lyctors, they could die for all she cares (should die probably) but I think she's in a unique position to understand their fucked up codependency. Nobody else understands what is like to go through immortality other than another immortal. She witnessed Mercy and John and Augustine all trying to kill each other the first time around. But she understands fucked up codependency and why John would never let Wake kill any of HIS Lyctors. They're HIS.

Gideon confronting Wake with the fact that the Ninth House nuns named her after the guy who killed her. I'm always thinking about whatever the fuck must have gone through between Wake and G1deon; I loved writing this line: “There are worse names,” she conceded. “He killed me, but he made it quick. Others wouldn’t have.”

Gideon (a normal person) describing the Heralds (disgusting space wasps) and the Mithraeum (bone palace central). I feel strongly that she'd actually like the Mithraeum! She grew up with Crux telling her "and even after you're dead you'll serve the Ninth as a skeleton". I feel like, to her, the idea of bones being used as decoration in a beautiful place instead of as manual labour is quite soothing.

I'm gonna be honest and admit I only came up with section header names so I could call one "2Emperor 2Murder". I think it captures the spirit of the books.

I had SO much fun with pronouns. Gideon-in-Harrow's body sometimes refers to the body she's inhabiting as Harrow's (I bit your lip) and sometimes it's both of them (I looked at the woman behind those eyes. She looked at us.) <- all of these are intentional and were fun to write.

John is the person who designed the #aesthetic of the Nine Houses. It's very important to me that he has a cool wizard sword of his own and he's absolute shit at using it. He's never had to get his hands dirty at close range before. He made himself cool weapons for cool factor and that's it.

I feel like a hack because SO many people liked the last line and it wasn't even mine.

I thought: Harrow, I’m coming. Which, you know. That’s what she said.

^ credit for this goes to @theriverbeyond who's THE Gideon expert in my life <3

WOW TURNS OUT I HAD A LOT TO SAY ABOUT THIS FIC. THANK YOU FOR INDULGING ME <3333

[fanfic writers director’s cut meme!]

[fruit-of-infidelity]

// Just a fun little prompt for DiaLover artists/writers! I’m going to try and do it since I wanted to have something DL-related for gore/inktober this year! It’s vague enough (hopefully) so you can go in any direction for each prompt, and it’s non-specific so you can write something for it, engage in a prompt for rp, or even draw for it!!

// If you do use this, please tag me! I’d love to see your creations! No pressure to go the whole month doing this either! Engage whenever/however you want!

[fangsforiris]

Patiently waiting ^^ I may add onto this !!

Could you imagine taking Reiji or Shu to a human party for the first time. Actually getting drunk and them loosening up, I think it would be adorable if he ended up with lipstick covered cheeks because you couldn't keep your hands off of him....now I wanna write that.

[tikay21]

🐺Dominic St. Clair

applicant for Yasmines Desire BC by @aniraklova

age: 35

character: mysterious, calculating, aloof

Dominic St. Clair, known in the gambling scene as "The Count," is a legend in the world of poker. He possesses a sharp mind and his approach to poker is deeply analytical. He constantly evaluates probabilities and reads his opponents with precision. Dominic's reputation precedes him and make him a feared opponent at any poker table simply by his presence.

Even in the most intense situations, "The Count" remains calm and focused, without letting his emotions take over. Although he's not afraid to take calculated risks, each of his moves is carefully planned and executed to maximize his chances of success.

His skills regularly crash the cash registers of casinos, making him an unwelcome guest and his life not entirely safe; there are said to have been attempts to eliminate him. Dominic is one of the wealthiest men around, and evidently, he has the means to keep certain individuals at bay. Unobtrusively, security always surrounds him.

Although he is a wealthy man, it is unclear whether "The Count" has acquired his wealth solely through poker or if there are other secret sources of his fortune. He is a master at shielding his private life and concealing his true self from the world.

Beyond his unpredictable appearances in casinos, Dominic lives secluded from the public eye. Whether he has friends or family is unknown. Speculations and rumors about his past and living circumstances are widespread, but he doesn't let anyone peek into his cards.

What prompts Dominic to suddenly step into the public eye and sign up for a Bachelorette show, stirring up rumors? Is he looking to redefine his image or bring a touch of normality into his life? Does he feel lonely in his reclusive lifestyle and yearn for human connection or a romantic relationship? Could he be seeking an authentic relationship untainted by his wealth or reputation as a gambling genius?

Might this show, of all things, offer him a chance to meet someone who appreciates him for his true self, beyond his secrets and his reputation? Dominic isn't the type to follow conventional paths; he's unpredictable, so let the games begin ...

Dominic St. Clair - Sim made by me @tikay21 more info under the cut > likes / dislikes

Likes

colors: black - white

music: classical - new age - metal - world - soul

characteristics: hard working - homebody - cerebral

conversation: stories - intimacy - deception - interests

fashion: preppy - polished - hipster - rocker

activities: fitness - research - violin - piano - climbing - cooking - riding - skiing - snowboarding - writing - wellness

deco: industrial - island - vintage - contemporary - modern

Dislikes

colors: yellow

characteristics: egoistical - pesssimistic - argumentative - ambitionsless

conversation: silly - potty humor - smalltalk - gossip

fashion: boho

activities: comedy - mischief - video gaming

deco: cosmolux - cute - shabby

privat DL if chosen

I had the idea for this character a long time ago as a call for a challenge theme (make an arrogant sim) and even created a sim for it, but I never actually played it out. Here, the character concept gets a new face, and I'm curious about what's to come - or what's not.

thanks @ all creators, posemaker and builders

(even those I can`t makeout here)

builds - Casino by EA ID: ameliejo111

Villa by EA ID: marmeladart

CC by @kijiko-sims @pralinesims @magic-bot @wistfulpoltergeist @sclub-privee @creamlattedream @nesurii @luumia @simdulgencemods @northernsiberiawinds @johnnysimmer @micklayne @darte77 @beto-ae0 @birba32 @pictureamoebae @christopher067 @jius-sims @mercisims @lorisims

poses by @helgatisha - @katverse - lostsouls

Sim by @tikay21

thanks for your support by doing this @xshinx86

[suhjihanma]

☩ 𝕸𝖔𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕱𝖚𝖓𝖎𝖘𝖍𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘 ☩

☩Kink (3) : Omorashi ☩Word Count: 915 words ☩Pairing: Kento Nanami / Female Reader ☩Content Warning: Heavy mentions of omorashi, bedwetting, slight mentions of ab//dl, heavy dominance, humiliation, moderate use of OOC, hinting of dumbification, age play, mentions of wearing diapers as humiliation, dd//lg. ☩Author's Note: Do not read this if you are a minor or kinkshame. If you find this story to be tasteful, then by all means ignore this writing piece. It's day three now, so why write up something that's more on the borderlines of taboo? I might had a little bit too fun playing with this prompt, but to hell with it, we ball.

Appreciating dawn was always the best moment.

Granted, it was amusing for Nanami to see you waken from a deep sleep in the soft, fitted mattress. A dragged groan was let out in the process as you stretched your sore muscles, eyes slowly opening from the disturbance of the sun's rays that crossed your face.

The gentle rays decorated your skin, back arched up as you looked at Nanami, stretching the sore muscles under developed kinks. 

Nanami gulped quietly to himself as he looked at your body, most notably vulnerable in the position that you were in. He pondered about the numerous times you were held in that position underneath his power. The bedroom was a challenge of the dynamics, yet he overruled everything inside its four walls. From overwriting the weakened nerves that sung out in ecstasy, Nanami appreciated how submissive you get under his strong hands. Inappropriate thoughts were clouding his mind of judgment as he chaste a kiss on your forehead. Besides acting upon prude thoughts, your mind could only wonder about him waking you this early in the morning. Yet, from shared times with Nanami, this was just another day basking in comfort.

“It is impolite to stare, daddy.” You sheepishly say, rubbing your eyes out of exhaustion. Nanami softly chortled as he placed another kiss on your forehead. The covers that were draped around your thighs were now replaced with warm, rough hands, slowly caressing the warmness that your thighs were carrying. 

“Can’t help it, baby.” He calmly said before looking at you with a gentle smile. Nanami studied you with his gaze, eyelids heavily covering themselves with sleepiness. “Do you know what you want to do today, or do I need to help my baby with her plans?” His stoic voice became filled with playfulness, his hands now reaching to your exposed hip frame as his fingers playfully guided themselves along the small love handles. Redden cheeks formed across your face as embarrassment presented itself. Nanami was right‌. Difficult as it may seem, you always found him to help you with dubious errands, especially for errands that ‘big girls’ like yourself find difficulty in completing. 

Still, you always complained that you could get them done with your poor time management. 

Pouting, you looked at Nanami with a tongue poking out, afterwards blowing out a raspberry. “I can do it, daddy! I can do things myself.” Nanami chuckled as he looked down at your legs, not knowing the small puddle that sat underneath you. A questionable expression formed across his face. 

“And not going to the bathroom is one of them.” Sighing, he throws the covers that were still on the bed before his palms felt the wet stain underneath you. Thankfully, it wasn’t a hassle to clean up yet, the continuous lectures of bedwetting grew to be tiring. You knew Nanami grew to have short patience when it comes to misbehaving yet, the patience that this man had with you was mainly forgiving, in a sense. He could be cruel as the next man by spanking in retaliation. He overweighted the power dynamic, yet when it comes to occasional accidents, you thanked your submissive self that he was more than less lenient. 

“I’m sorry, daddy. I couldn’t make it in time.” You cried out as you held your head down in shame. Tears were slightly forming in the corners of your eyes as you sniffled quietly. Embarrassing that Nanami could see you in your crying state, the smallness within you wanted to grab your nearest plush animal and hold on to it with dear life. A special coping mechanic, you wanted to ease your crippling embarrassment. Humiliation was getting the best of you until Nanami’s voice broke your sulking moment, your attention was now focused towards the man with a concerned face. 

“I’m not having that.” He continues to look at your sadden face, still expression present. “I wonder what your punishment will be, baby, hm?” Your eyes watered, Nanami now looking over at you with a smirk. “I tried making you write several sentences on not wetting the bed again. I might need to up my ante.” Looking at the puddle again underneath, Nanami sighed in disbelief.

 “Then again, wearing a diaper would be more fitting for girls like you who love to make messes.” Your eyes widened as you were about to protest his suggestion. Not only could he choose something so embarrassing yet shameful, but something that teases your bodily functions. Wearing a diaper was a bit too much, but with Nanami’s suggestion, this was all for your own humiliation. How adorable would it be for you waddling about in your daddy’s home? You actually get to be embarrassed like a little girl. Little girls like yourself are only subjective to be pacified and babied under dominant daddies like Nanami.

Simply because you couldn’t control your bladder. 

“No daddy, that’s for babies.” Your endless pitiful whines reached Nanami’s deafen ears as you squirmed, acknowledging the feeling of cooled wetness now seeping in your soiled panties. Nanami’s smirk never left his face as he looked over you, tutting his teeth as he looked over at you with a mischievous smile. You questioned yourself as you didn’t know what’s going to happen next, yet the dominance that leaked around Nanami grew to be enticing as the words spilled from his mouth grew nothing but alluring to your ears.

“Remind yourself that you are daddy’s baby, baby.”

[ilyasorokinn]

pittsburgh penguins

* = from the prompt list

anthony beauvillier !

imagines,

✷ super dad - anthony’s life as a dad during quarantine. 

✷ summer with the beauvilliers - a collection of moments during the summer with the beauvillier family. 

blurbs,

✷ expensive wine - the love in y/n and anthony’s relationship is slowly fading away, but neither of them want to let go. *

✷ on the dl - y/n gets a job working for the rangers, and anthony gets a little jealous.

✷ spilled beans - y/n fractures her wrist; and instead of telling anthony first, she tells mat.

✷ change of name - y/n steals (borrows) a hoodie of anthony's with his last name on it. *

sidney crosby !

imagines,

✷ tiktok famous - sidney accidentally becomes tiktok famous after doing a tiktok dance with his daughter. 

✷ gods and goddesses - y/n crosby, an actress, takes sidney to his first met gala.

✷ santa claus is coming to town - y/n and sidney spend the day with their children, putting up the christmas tree, decorating the house, making cookies, writing letters to santa, and most important of all, getting their hot chocolate. (part of “taylor’s 14 days of christmas” series)

✷ little giroux - y/n giroux is the little sister of claude giroux, the captain of the philadelphia flyers. so that means she's supposed to hate the penguins, especially their captain, right?

✷ not so alone - y/n and sid are staying in pittsburgh for christmas this year, with their families coming out to visit instead. y/n heard through the grapevine that some of the guys weren’t going home, so she decided to welcome them over so they weren’t so alone. (part of “taylor’s very merry christmas” series)

blurbs,

✷ can’t sleep - the crosby kids, as well as sidney, wake up and can’t seem to fall back asleep.

✷ protective dad mode - y/n gave birth a few weeks ago, and sidney goes into crazy-dad mode during a family skate.

✷ appreciation - y/n has a nail appointment, and sid volunteers to come along.

✷ the secrets out - sidney and y/n are expecting their first child. sidney wants to keep it a secret for as long as possible, being a private person, but y/n wants to let people know. (ig edit included) *

✷ work sendoff - mornings are hard so sidney gives y/n the little push she needs. *

✷ y/n y/l/n's hockey boyfriend - y/n y/l/n, famous singer, plays in the city she calls home, and finally confirms a years-long rumor people had been speculating on. *

series,

✷ the crosby clan - sidney crosby, and his life with his three kids, lucas, august and maggie.

ryan graves !

imagines,

✷ birthday twins - y/n and her daughter, charlotte share a birthday.

✷ 1 step forward, 3 steps back - a fic based on "1 step forward, 3 steps back" from olivia rodrigo’s sour album. (from the “sour” series)

[ wips ] [ masterlist of masterlists ] [ taglist ]

[afi-writes]

The Goddess of Dragon and Demon

Sunshine & Starlight Creation Challenge

Hosted by: @violettduchess & @lorei-writes

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku Ship: Masamune x female reader x Nobunaga                ��                                           Prompt: Late Night Trysts Word count: 4602 Beta-reader: @ruki-mukami-dl's admin Summary: When both the Demon King of the Sixth Heaven and the One-Eyed Dragon come after you, there is only one reasonable solution. CW: NSFW, shameless smut, threesome, kinda kinky A/N: I had written the start of this fic back in 2021 and recently found it in my files. So, I decided to translate and finish it finally.

Cicadas. You can’t stop hearing their chirring even though the sliding doors to the terrace are closed. The garden must be full of them as their sound floods your room.

As you push the door open, the final rays of the setting sun caress your face. Watching the fireball sinking behind the castle walls, you cannot deny the humid heat that still lingers in the air. The summer night is not freed from it, not even in its darkest moments, and it slithers under the layers of your kimono.

Leaving the door to the garden open, you hope to cool down at least a bit before bedtime and sit down at your desk. You allow your mind to wander. You shouldn’t but sometimes it’s simply easier to let go than trying to fight back.

500 years. Who would have ever believed it? And just a couple of months ago, you were determined to go back home. Perhaps that should still be your goal…

But… You sigh.

It’s complicated.

It didn’t take long for Oda Nobunaga to invite you into his private quarters, the Tenshu, after you had arrived. He had named you as his lucky charm, and, of course, he wanted to take advantage of you.

That first night. It has burned into your mind. A hand pressed against the wall, as Nobunaga’s face leaned closer with a smug smirk lingering on his lips. He rose a sake cup on your lips.

“You shall be my cup tonight.” Those words sent shivers down your spine. They still do.

The first game of Go. You will never forget. Nobunaga conquered your hand finger by finger, capturing your soul there and then. Obviously, you didn’t admit it back then, but there is a limit how much you can lie to yourself.

A sigh leaves your lips again.

Life could be simple. You could have surrendered to Nobunaga… but there was something else. On your first night in the castle – before that fated game of Go – Date Masamune had marched into your room, threatening you with his katana. Oh, you had boiled inside! How had he dared?

And that unconsented kiss later! Nobunaga might have challenged you to questionable gambling, but for Masamune, the whole life was a game, and you were the princess on the board he wanted to spirit away for himself.

So, wanted it or not, you had been pulled into the battle royale of the hearts with no clue which warlord would make the final conquest. All you knew was that even if the wormhole were to appear, you had no interest in it. Not in the least.

“Did you leave your door open for me, Kitten?” The soft voice makes you flinch.

You turn only to see Masamune leaning against the terrace door frame, his gaze wandering around your dim personal space. You have already spread your futon, and he peeks toward it before meeting your eyes.

So much for cooling down before sleeping, Masamune has that effect. Just one wild look and your stomach is filled with butterflies and your feet turn into jelly. The most sensible thing would be resisting his pull… but… can you? Can you really?

If you were reasonable, you would keep both men at arm’s length, learned how to win your game of Go, and return to your own time. No romantic trysts.

No romantic trysts.

No romantic…

Masamune slides his zori sandals off on the terrace and strolls in. He doesn’t ask for permission, of course, he doesn’t. And if you would tell him no, he would read your body instead of listening to your words. Unfortunately, you can already feel how much your body is yelling yes.

The summer breeze follows Masamune, making his hair dance around his head as wild as the man himself. The One-Eyed Dragon. It’s almost like he is preying on you tonight as his only eye captures you.

You should think of cicadas but now you barely hear them anymore, for your heart bounces and your pulse throbs in your ears. “You… you know… in my time, it’s not appropriate to walk into a woman’s room in the middle of the night without permission.” You can hear how strained your voice is.

Masamune chuckles. “Your eyes gave the permission as soon as you looked at me.” He inches closer, peering down at you.

Getting up, you step back. It’s useless as Masamune proceeds. Yet you keep retreating away until you meet the wall. Focusing on steadying your breath, you glare at the man, the dragon before you. He leans in, placing his palm next to your head. The wind rides in again, pushing his scent all over you and making your knees weak.

The citric fragrance of yuzu is pleasant, and you can’t shake the thought that you missed your evening bath. Yet Masamune doesn’t seem to mind as he scoots even closer, almost nuzzling your nose with his. “Will you finally purr for me tonight, Kitten?”

You gasp, your mind filling with pictures of every smooch that has burned your lips. With each, Masamune has made it clear that there could be more. But so far, he has accepted your refusal. Except that one time when you stank of gunpowder. The bite mark stained your skin for a while after that.

“Masamune, I…” You are forced to swallow the rest of your sentence as his mouth smacks on yours. Tenderness is far away from scraping and tugging teeth that almost make you swoon. Yet you can’t stop yourself from meeting the demanding tongue, fighting it as if you two were on the battlefield, trying to conquer each other’s realms.

This is exactly what Sasuke warned you about.

But you don’t care. Instead, you grab the collar of Masamune’s kimono, pulling him deeper into the kiss and –

A knock. Someone calls your name. You recognize the soft and innocent voice. One of the maids.

You pant as Masamune releases your lips but doesn’t move off you. Instead, he leans on you, and his heated breath tickles your ear. “Don’t let her in. The situation would only confuse the young lady.”

You swallow. Without meeting Masamune’s gaze, you stare at the door instead. “I apologize but it’s late and I’m tired.”

“But…” The maid inhales loudly behind the door. “Oda-sama is calling for you. He wants you in the Tenshu.”

One glance reveals the grin that spreads on Masamune’s face as he shakes his head at you. Heat slithers deep within you. “Tell him I’m not coming tonight.”

The maid sighs but doesn’t argue. After a while, her footsteps move away until their sound no longer carries into your ears.

“Now, where were we…” Masamune takes your chin, turning your head once again toward his.

You wheeze as your heart bounces like the world is ending. Darkness lays its blanket in the garden behind you, dimming the room even more.

This is a bad idea.

Such a bad idea.

The worst!

Masamune has told you how he kisses anyone who looks cute enough. This isn’t serious for him, but it can be crucial to you.

“If you're not careful, I won't settle for simply capturing your lips tonight.” A hot breath on your face with a hint of spices.

“Then… perhaps…” You tug the collar of his kimono. “…you shouldn’t settle…”

There. Now, it has been said.

Masamune doesn’t hesitate. He shoves you against the wall and rams his lips on yours before thrusting his tongue in between them and making your mouth a battlefield once more. His ferocity makes your knees buckle again but there is no chance to fall as you are squeezed between the dragon and the wall.

A thump. The door of your room slides open. A sigh swipes over your mouth as Masamune pulls back. Heaving, you take support from behind and try to steady yourself as your turn to look to the side.

The carnelian eyes squint beneath the raven bangs. Heat creeps up your neck and over your face, as Nobunaga strolls into the room, gliding the door back shut. “I see my lucky charm has caught your attention, Masamune-san.”

You’re about to choke on your heart, for it is pounding painfully fast. Danger lingers behind the carnelian color as Nobunaga accepts the challenge. You know he is not the one to lose, and you don’t want Masamune to pay the price.

Can Dragon flout Demon without losing its last eye? It is like you are suddenly standing in the middle of the battlefield.

Masamune straightens up. “I was wondering how far I could get before you rush in.”

Unbelievable! As if the whole life was about gambling!

You open your mouth but right then and there Nobunaga roams closer. Tonight, like every night when you play, he wears his kimono in an inappropriate manner, much more casually than during the daytime.

A smirk arises on the lips of Demon. “I’m afraid you’re going to be bored tonight.” Nobunaga lets out a chuckle. “It’s time for her to have a game of Go with me.”

Surprisingly, you can’t distinguish jealousy from Nobunaga’s voice. The fact burns a hole into your chest. It’s not like you wanted to toy with several men, but perhaps you hoped to be worth a bit stronger reaction. Of course, you don’t wish them to throw themselves into a sword fight over you, but…

…but…

…but could Nobunaga care even a little?

Masamune draws his index finger along his chin line. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Nobunaga-sama, but Kitten has already made arrangements with me.” There is a smirk lingering on his lips as well. “For a very different kind of game.”

Nobunaga closes the distance between you all. You press your back against the wall, feeling how electricity sizzles in the air, crackling between the men. Swallowing, you admit your foolishness. You shouldn’t have listened to Masamune, for, obviously, Nobunaga wouldn’t wait till another evening.

Glancing at Masamune, you notice his eye is glued to Nobunaga, challenging the man he serves. Does he have death wishes? Why?

Without paying more attention to his vassal, Nobunaga turns his gaze to you. He measures you from head to toe with his usual smugness wafting in his face. You are familiar with that expression of winning the game. “You know that if you refuse to play, you lose that round.”

You shake your head. “We haven’t discussed such a rule.”

“A rule doesn't cease to exist just because you haven't looked into it.” Nobunaga takes your hand, glancing at Masamune, and raises it on his lips.

Masamune doesn’t move, doesn’t even say a thing, digging yet another hole into your chest. Are you nothing but a plaything to both these men?

As you question your life choices, Nobunaga presses a kiss onto your fingertips, making you gasp. “I have already conquered this territory.” He sucks your index finger into his mouth, his tongue playing with it in a slow teasing way while his gaze never leaves your face.

With a wet slurp, Nobunaga releases your finger only to reach for your earlobe with his other hand. “Your ear belongs to me as well.”

You can’t but nod, and he kisses your wrist. Your heart starts to bounce even more rapidly as you realize what is to come. Not now! Not in front of Masamune.

But without asking permission, the fingers leave your ear as Nobunaga crouches before you, lowering his hand and brushing the bare toes of your right foot. He traces his way to your ankle. “I won over this leg completely last time.”

Nobunaga’s fingers slide higher under your kimono which you know wish to have more layers. The fabric slips aside far too easily, revealing everything to Masamune’s gaze too.

“I wonder which part of you I should conquer next.” Nobunaga chuckles again.

“I can see you have been playing an interesting game.” Masamune scoots closer. “However, I would like to point out that I have also made a conquest and will defend my territory.”

You don’t have time to react before Masamune’s lips are on yours once more. Fiercer than ever, turning you into mush.

“Hmmm, I don’t know.” Nobunaga scoffs, leaving the back of your knee as he rises. His hand lands against the wall beside your head at the same moment, Masamune snakes his tongue into your mouth, entangling it with yours.

As he leans in, Nobunaga’s stare burns into you. “There are things I’m willing to share with my men, and things that belong only to me.”

Snorting, Masamune retreats. You gasp for breath, not knowing if you should try to sink through the wall and make a run for it between the men who talk about you as if you were a field of rice, a possession whose ownership is up for negotiation.

The thing is… you are not. And it is not their decision. You don’t care if one of them is the Demon King of Sixth Heaven and the other The One-Eyed Dragon of Oshu. You’re not theirs to rule.

Placing one hand on Masamune’s chest and the other on Nobunaga’s, you shove them both. The surprise attack works, and both falter slightly. With shaking legs, you rush into middle of the room and glare at them. “Where I come from, men don’t decide such conquests.” You try to make your voice as confident as possible. “The woman decides who can have her and when.”

“Fascinating, our princess is full of marvels.” Nobunaga shoots a glance at Masamune before locking his gaze with yours. “But I want to remind you of the rules you agreed to before our first game.”

“I don’t see the joy in taking something by force. I will conquer you piece by piece until you voluntarily surrender to me completely.”

Your cheeks flare as Nobunaga’s statement returns to your mind. A realization hits you. Your head bends into a nod before you have time to stop yourself. The gesture makes your heart sink. If you don’t gamble, you are to lose someone tonight.

And you can’t have that.

So… you can only play.

“You have won your conquest, Nobunaga.” You nod again. “But I have my conditions. I’m not a realm for you two to fight over or divide as you wish. I’m the sun that shines where she wants to.”

Masamune jerks his brow up. “Sounds like tonight our princess wishes to a goddess.” He caresses your chin. “What is your suggestion, Kitten?”

You touch Masamune’s hand briefly. “The one who works better for the conquest will have the final conquer.”

You meet Nobunaga’s eyes. His gaze challenges you in this very instant, and you notice Masamune’s single eye flashing. You have never said anything as daring as this.

Nobunaga lifts his hand, playing with a lock of your hair. “And how is the winner defined?”

“That is for the sun… the goddess to tell later.” You have to force yourself not to quiver, for this is no time for wavering.

The silence spreads in the dim room. The truth is these two are not ones to share… but will they?

“So, you wish us to play a different game?” Nobunaga’s eyes don’t leave you as he talks.

You nod. “That is right. You are warlords. So… prove that you are qualified to reign this realm of me.” You glance at each. “But this battle can’t be won with a sword.”

“What are you saying, Kitten?” Masamune chuckles. “I think it is a sword you want indeed. Or should I say swords?” As the words leave his lips, he lifts his arm and tugs your obi open. With an obvious experience, he gets rid of the said piece of clothing. It drops on the tatami with a light thud. You probably wouldn’t normally even pay attention to such a quiet sound, but at the moment, all your senses are spreading out and probing for the tiniest shift in the mood and atmosphere.

While Masamune removes the obi, Nobunaga shoves the kimono off your shoulders. Heat courses through you, filling even the smallest, deepest parts of your body when you realize these men will see everything. They will relish the sight of you. Or will they? What if they don’t like what they’ll see? Surely, they both have had tons of experience and many women have given them pleasures.

The distracting thoughts run wild in your mind, but you force your expression to stay calm. Be the sun, be the goddess they called you. Be unbothered by anything that was before you. Be the Goddess of One-Eyed Dragon and Demon King of Sixth Heaven.

“Worship the realm, and it might be yours.” The words escape you before you can prevent them. With a flaring face, you gaze at the men who are already rulers.

“The challenge must be accepted.” A smug smirk raises on Nobunaga’s lips. “What do you think, Masamune-san? Will you fight this battle with me?” He slides the kimono down your arms while speaking.

Masamune grabs the same garment and pushes it open, revealing your breasts whose peaks are already throbbing. “I agree, my lord. But I must say, Nobunaga-sama, I won’t lose my battles.” He closes his mouth around one of your perky buds and you can’t swallow your gasp. Without further thought, you lace your finger with his thick hair.

“Neither do I.” Nobunaga gives the kimono a final tug, making it pile on the floor while he covers your nape with kisses.

You shiver. Twenty fingers trace your skin: ten from behind, ten on your sides. Masamune’s tongue tortures your nipple, hardening it. Wails push past your lips, and a swamp develops deep within you.

Nobunaga’s smooches turn into nibbles, his teeth grazing your skin, and you’re sure there will be marks of his ownership in the morning. Tilting your head, you let out a whine, but it is only replied by two dark chuckles.

Hands grab your waist from behind and haul you against hips. A bulge presses between your buttocks, telling you Nobunaga can offer something huge. By that thought, the realization hits; you asked for them both and they are eager to deliver… which means you will have them. And if you know them at all, they aren’t the ones to wait and take turns. But can you handle that much? For goodness’ sake, you have never had two men simultaneously.

The thought makes you clench and the moistness spreads between your thighs. Masamune sucks your nipple into his mouth and gives it a playful tug with his teeth while Nobunaga grinds against your butt.

Your wailing makes Dragon roar. He grabs your breast and releases the other only to shower your belly with smooches. Crouching, he kisses his way to the south. Further and further down. As he reaches your lower abdomen, you feel another hand on your waist slip down and reach for the apex of your thighs.

“Sneaky.” Masamune’s voice vibrates against your soft curly hair at the same time as Nobunaga’s fingers meander their way in between your swollen folds.

“Hmm, it seems our Goddess enjoys having men to do her bidding like this.” Nobunaga’s words caress your nape. “So wet already.” His teeth scratch the skin, and his digit dives in, retreating again and bringing out more juices of your burning lust. Dipping the finger in once more, it almost seems like he tries to make you spill over.

But Masamune isn’t going to lose here. His lips meet your folds, gliding over your pulsating pearl. As his tongue begins to dance around it, you arch your back and quiver against Nobunaga’s chest, and tug Masamune’s hair, making him groan against your loins. The waves of pleasure take you over, and your moans echo from the walls when Masamune keeps teasing and sucking your wailing nub, and Nobunaga tortures your soaked entrance.

“Shh, do not wake the whole castle up.” Nobunaga raises one hand, tracing your neck until he reaches your chin. As you moan again, he pushes two fingers into your mouth, forcing you to almost gag. You whine but your voice is muffled, while digits fuck both of your moist caverns and Masamune’s tongue tortures you with an endless dance of teasing. You hang on the edge of coming apart, ready to be sent to heaven… or hell, though you have no idea which one this is.

But just when you are about to explode into all colors of the rainbow, Nobunaga slides his digits out of your soaked depths. Your protest is muted by the fingers which still keep your tongue busy.

While Masamune sucks your nub of pleasures, Nobunaga traces your folds, spreading your juices all over. He moves further away from your entrance and closes in on the other opening, making you tense. But he does not mind your nervousness. Instead, he smears your wetness between your buttocks, circling his dampened finger around your hole before gliding it in and probing your reaction.

You whine, and digits dip deeper into your mouth. At the same time, one sneaks into your butt. You squirm and meander, but you aren’t getting anywhere from your two torturers.

Seeing the opportunity, Masamune moves his hand and lets his fingers intrude into your wet depths while still licking and circling your clit. Synchronously, Nobunaga keeps stretching your rear, using your liquids of lust as his lubricant. This is almost too much to take. Too much to bear. You are filled and unable to even wail. Stars explode in your mind, while you sob and gag, arching and coming apart in the hands of your two warlords. While you squirm and whimper, they keep at their pace as if they are never going to stop, making you cum again and again until your legs begin to shake, giving in. You fall, but two pairs of arms catch you before you hit the tatami.

“Already exhausted, Kitten?” Masamune chuckles and pecks your cheek. You can smell your own desire on him, and the scent makes you flare all over. Noting your blush, Masamune leans in. “This was only the first act; the sequel is about to start.”

Nobunaga nibbles your earlobe. “She looks like she has already surrendered.”

“She might, but I have not.” Masamune steals a kiss from your half-open lips, before lifting and carrying you on the futon.

Nobunaga follows in Masamune’s heels, and suddenly the futon you have been perfectly happy with before feels crowded. Masamune lays you down and tugs his obi open as Nobunaga does the same. You can’t but gape when two battle-hardened bodies are revealed for your eyes. Both scarred, yet beautiful, full of well-formed muscles you wish to run your fingertips along.

And, of course, that isn’t all, for it is obvious how ready both men are. The towering proofs of their yearning for you make you swallow. You’ll be sore tomorrow. But that is a problem for the future you. Now, you can feel how the futon gets slowly soaked as you think of those two shafts piercing you.

Two gazes turn to you: one pair of carnelian lust and a single sky-blue orb of heated summer day. The air wafts with lingering cravings, unspoken yet so clear. This is the point of no return, for after this nothing can be undone.

Masamune sits on the futon and lifts you on his lap, his hardness pressing against your belly as you put your legs on both sides of his. You can hear Nobunaga’s movements behind you, and soon his fingertips travel along your spine.

“I don’t see the joy in taking something by force,” Nobunaga repeats the words he said to you on the first night.

“Me neither.” Masamune nuzzles your cheek. “You are to roar ‘moon’ if anything is unpleasant to you, Kitten.”

“Moon?” you gasp the word.

“Is that clear?” Nobunaga’s voice radiates against your ear.

You nod, not trusting that you can muster out a single word anymore.

“You have to say it, Kitten.”

Swallowing, you force your lips to move. “Yes.”

As if that was the cue the men had been waiting for, they move almost in unison. Masamune snatches your butt, lifting you while Nobunaga’s fingers sneak again between your folds. He smears your wetness, pushing it into your rear. And once he’s done, you feel how Masamune’s hardness wedges on your entrance, sinking in inch by inch as the wails escape you once more. He fills you so completely, capturing your senses.

But more is to come. Another thick shaft rubs your butt, testing the waters and teasing the valley between your buttocks. You tense in Masamune’s grasp, and he stays still, waiting if you cry for the moon. But you don’t. The tip of Nobunaga’s cock inches in, stretching you slowly and more carefully than you would have expected from the Demon King of the Sixth Heaven. Then again, it is heaven, not hell. He holds you by your waist, while Masamune squeezes your buttocks.

Finally, Nobunaga stops, heaving onto your nape. “As deliciously tight as I assumed. Tell me, am I the first to conquer this part of the realm?”

You moan in response. The men aren’t even moving, and you already feel so taken that you aren’t sure if you will survive the rest.

“I take that as a yes.”

You can imagine the self-righteous grin that probably dashes onto Nobunaga’s face at the moment the words leave his mouth.

“Nevertheless, Kitten purred for me first.” Masamune’s voice is strained. “You will purr more, won’t you, Kitten?” And by that, he lifts your hips only to shove you back down. You clench around his length, whining and quivering as Nobunaga thrusts in and out at the same pace.

The room is filled with wet slips and muffled moans as the two men hammer you into a bliss you have never experienced before. You tremble and wail in between them, hanging on Masamune’s shoulders while your nails dig into his skin as they fill you up, reaching in so deep it is almost painful, yet pleasure takes over your senses, and you can’t do anything but surrender to the sensations that course through your veins and numb the reason out your mind. Right now, you live only for this rapture and relish in it like the sun wouldn’t rise tomorrow again. There is nothing else than these arms around you and shafts that take you, making you a possession of these two rulers of their own right. You might be their Goddess, but they surely reign you right now.

With each push, with every shove, you sink further into a whirlpool of gratification. You moan, almost crying, as you explode into colorful stars again. You are nothing but throbbing pleasure, squeezing the men that have pierced you. Panting and sobbing you surrender willingly. “I’m yours…”

Your words cause another explosion, then a third, and you are filled with a hot, thick load that flows into you, marking even the most private territories of you.

The conquest is over. You have given your everything and received everything. In a sweaty, heaving tangle, you all fall on the futon, forming a knot of limbs as you lay entwined.

“Well…?” Nobunaga puffs into your hair. “…who deserves… the realm, Goddess?”

“Yeah, Kitten… tell us…” Drained mumbles push out of Masamune’s mouth and onto your lips.

And you give the answer of the Goddess for Dragon and Demon. The answer only you three know.

The edit is made of official Ikemen Sengoku game art. The characters are from CGs I got from the mobile version and the background is from the Switch version of the game.