#does caretaker stay with them as long as they can?

[heliosunny]

ur yandere crown prince!phainon x reader fic was so delicious i hope you write more of it

I wrote a ton of drafts for these rq :)))) so here u r~

also does anyone know any artists that I can contact and ask for their art permission to feature the fics? Will def give full credits ✨✨ i tried to dm some but they r too busy

Yandere!Crown Prince Phainon x Reader - P2

Visit [part 1]

Your days of healing were slow, yet never lonely. Phainon remained at your side, his devotion unwavering. He ensured you were comfortable, personally overseeing your meals, your medicine, and the servants attending you.

“You needn’t stay with me all day.” you murmured weakly one evening, attempting to reassure him.

His eyes softened, but his voice was firm. “Where else would I be?”

Even on the darkest nights, when you stirred from fevered dreams, he was there—his hand brushing away the damp strands of hair from your forehead, his voice a quiet promise that you would never suffer alone.

Your interactions were not without company. Mydei, Anaxa, and Castorice visited frequently, each bringing a different kind of relief.

“I must admit, I never expected to see His Highness so domestic” Anaxa mused one afternoon, lounging in a chair across from your bed as Phainon carefully adjusted your pillows.

“Perhaps he intends to abandon the throne and become a caretaker” Castorice teased.

Phainon, unimpressed, shot them both a glare. “Mock me again, and I’ll have you both reassigned to the coldest region in the kingdom.”

Mydei merely sipped his tea. “A small price to pay to witness this sight.”

You laughed softly, the warmth in your chest easing the discomfort in your body. “You all act as though His Highness is incapable of kindness.”

Anaxa smirked. “Oh, he is plenty kind—to you.”

Phainon sighed and dismissed them with a wave of his hand. “If you’re all finished with your nonsense, she needs rest.”

Despite his scolding, the presence of his closest allies eased the burdens of war and betrayal—if only for a moment.

Though bedridden, you refused to be idle. As soon as your strength allowed, you assisted Phainon with his paperwork, offering insights and solutions that even his advisors had overlooked.

“You do not need to exhaust yourself with this.” Phainon had told you, watching as you scribbled notes beside him.

“I may not hold a sword, but my mind is still sharp” you replied, meeting his gaze with quiet determination.

He stared at you for a long moment before a rare, fond smile graced his lips. “That, my love, is undeniable.”

Your counsel became invaluable. Even in his darkest days, when the weight of war and treachery threatened to consume him, you were there to steady him.

“You are not alone in this” you reminded him, reaching for his hand.

Phainon exhaled, his fingers lacing with yours. “Then stay by my side always.”

You did.

But that loyalty made you a target.

Many sought to harm Phainon, seeing you as his greatest weakness. Assassination attempts were frequent, but none succeeded. You remained wary, but one day, you overheard something chilling—a plot to poison your husband.

That night, you clasped his hand tightly. “Do not drink from your goblet at tomorrow’s council meeting.”

Phainon stilled. “What did you hear?”

You explained in hushed tones. He listened, silent and composed, but beneath the surface, a storm raged.

“They should trouble you no more” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

The next morning, the traitors never made it past the palace gates.

Phainon had acted swiftly, eliminating the conspirators before their poison could ever reach him.

But the attack had shifted something in him.

“I have been too lenient,” he told you one evening, standing by the window, eyes dark with thought. “If they continue to see you as my weakness, they will never stop.”

The next day, he left to secure the borders and reinforce the kingdom’s security.

Though he was gone, he ensured you were protected. Mydei, ever reliable, checked on you frequently.

“I don’t know whether to be honored or exhausted” Mydei sighed one evening, setting down a fresh report. “His Highness treats me as your personal shadow.”

“And yet, you do not complain” you noted with a smile.

He smirked. “How could I, when you provide better conversation than half the court?”

Despite Phainon’s instructions for you not to overthink, you couldn’t help yourself. Late into the nights, you drafted plans, strategies to strengthen his efforts and had Mydei deliver them.

“You should rest” Mydei warned. “His Highness would not be pleased if he knew you were losing sleep over his affairs.”

“Then do not tell him” you replied simply.

Though he shook his head, Mydei never failed to deliver your letters.

One day, you received an unexpected visitor. A delegation from a foreign kingdom had arrived, requesting an audience. Among them was their prince, a striking man with sharp eyes and a confident air.

“It is an honor to meet you, Your Highness.” he greeted, offering a practiced smile. “I have heard much of your wisdom.”

Something about the way he looked at you—too keen, too interested—put you on edge.

The foreign prince sat across from you in the grand receiving hall, his presence commanding yet unfamiliar. His kingdom had sent an official delegation, but his interest in you felt far more personal.

“I have heard much of your wisdom, Your Highness.” he said smoothly, offering a charming yet calculating smile. “It is no wonder your husband values your counsel so highly.”

You kept your posture composed, your hands delicately folded in your lap. “You flatter me” you replied politely, though your instincts urged caution.

“It is not flattery, merely truth” he countered, his gaze lingering just a moment too long. “I find it fascinating that a woman of your intellect and grace holds such influence over the kingdom’s future.”

You stiffened slightly, recognizing the underlying implication. This was not just a diplomatic visit—he was testing boundaries.

Phainon rode back to the capital sooner than expected, his presence heralded by the sight of his royal banner unfurling against the evening sky.

He had been away for weeks, ensuring the kingdom’s borders were secure, eradicating threats before they could reach you. But the moment Mydei’s latest report reached him—detailing the foreign prince—he abandoned all else.

The throne, the court, the war—none of it mattered in that instant.

Only you.

The moment he stepped foot in the palace, he demanded answers.

“Where is she?” His voice was ice, sharp enough to cut through the air.

Mydei met his gaze steadily. “With the foreign delegation, Your Highness.”

The sound of Phainon’s gloves tightening around his sword hilt cut him off.

Without another word, he strode toward the receiving hall.

You felt the change in the air before you saw him.

A sudden tension rippled through the court as the heavy doors to the hall slammed open.

Phainon stood at the entrance, his blue eyes burning with cold fury. His cloak billowed behind him as he stepped forward, each movement deliberate, controlled—but the grip on his sword said otherwise.

The foreign prince looked up, clearly intrigued rather than intimidated. “Ah, Your Highness. We were just speaking of you.”

Phainon’s gaze never left yours. “Leave.”

The prince raised an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

Phainon turned his head slightly—just enough to fix the man with a chilling glare. “I said, leave. Before I stain this floor with your blood.”

The court fell silent.

You rose gracefully from your seat, placing a calming hand on Phainon’s arm. “My love, we must not—”

“Did he touch you?” Phainon asked lowly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You blinked, startled by the lethal edge to his tone. “No, of course not.”

“Then he still breathes only because of that.”

The foreign prince chuckled, clearly entertained. “Your reputation precedes you, Crown Prince. I meant no offense—only admiration.”

Phainon’s expression remained unreadable, but the tension in his body was palpable.

“Admiration is not an excuse to covet what belongs to me.”

His words sent a chill through the room.

You sighed internally. If you didn’t intervene now, there would be bloodshed.

“Your Highness” you addressed the foreign prince with measured calm, “perhaps it is best we conclude this meeting. My husband has just returned, and I would prefer to greet him in peace.”

For a moment, the prince hesitated—then he smiled knowingly, as if he had learned something from this encounter.

“Of course, Crown Princess. Until we meet again.”

Phainon did not move until the foreign prince had fully exited the hall.

The moment the doors shut behind him, Phainon exhaled sharply, turning to you with eyes still dark with restrained fury.

“Why was he here?”

“Diplomatic matters” you answered honestly. “He arrived unexpectedly, and I could not refuse an audience.”

His jaw tightened. “You should have sent him away.”

“And insult his kingdom?” You shook your head. “You know as well as I do that—”

“I do not care for his kingdom.” His voice was low, dangerous. “I care for you.”

He reached forward, grasping your hands—gently, but with an urgency that sent warmth through your fingertips.

“You are my wife. My Queen-to-be. I will not tolerate another man looking at you the way I do.”

Your breath caught at the intensity in his eyes.

You had always known Phainon’s love was possessive. But in this moment, you realized—his devotion had deepened into something even more dangerous.

“You do not need to be jealous” you murmured, squeezing his hands.

“It is not jealousy,” he corrected softly. “It is certainty. Certainty that you are mine, and mine alone.”

You sighed, stepping closer. “Then let me ease your worries.”

Phainon searched your expression, as if looking for reassurance, before his hand came up to cradle your face.

“If he or anyone else dares look at you again, I will end them before they even breathe your name.”

The foreign prince’s departure did not bring peace. If anything, it only stirred the waters further.

Days after the tense encounter, rumors swept through the court—whispers that the foreign kingdom had taken offense to Phainon’s hostility. Some nobles feared war, while others murmured about the foreign prince’s persistence.

And then, one night, a letter arrived.

Delivered in secrecy, sealed with foreign wax.

Phainon found it first.

He recognized the handwriting immediately—too refined, too familiar.

“I was most intrigued by our meeting, Your Highness. I regret we did not have more time to speak in private. I will not give up so easily. Expect to see me again soon.”

The parchment crumpled in his grip.

The fool had dared to send you a personal letter.

Phainon’s hand twitched toward his sword, his first instinct to ride out and end this persistent nuisance before he could step foot in the kingdom again.

But then, he breathed.

Killing him now would make the foreign prince a martyr. A justified war.

No—Phainon would play this game his way.

And he would ensure this man never had a chance to see you again.

The foreign prince's entourage vanished at the border, their horses found wandering near the cliffs. The official reports claimed an unfortunate accident—bandits, perhaps, or a treacherous fall during the night.

But those who truly understood the workings of the kingdom knew better.

When you heard the news, you merely glanced at Phainon over dinner.

“Did you do this?”

He took a slow sip of his wine before replying. “Do you truly wish to know?”

You held his gaze for a long moment before shaking your head. “No.”

A small, satisfied smile curled at his lips. “Then let us speak of other matters.”

The foreign prince was not the only one who coveted you.

Among the noble families, admiration turned to resentment. Many had once hoped to claim the position you now held, and among them was Lady Evanthe, the daughter of a powerful Duke.

She had been raised to believe she would one day stand beside Phainon as queen.

But you had stolen that future.

And she would not forgive you for it.

One evening, as you walked through the palace gardens, a voice called out to you.

“Your Highness.”

You turned, meeting the sharp gaze of Lady Evanthe. She was beautiful—icy and composed, draped in a flowing white gown that gave her an almost ghostly presence under the moonlight.

“Lady Evanthe” you acknowledged cautiously.

She curtsied, but there was no warmth in her movements. “Forgive me for the sudden approach, but I wished to speak with you alone. It is a matter of… concern.”

You did not trust her. But you were not a coward.

“Then speak.”

She tilted her head. “Do you truly believe you are suited to be queen?”

You raised a brow. “That is not for me to decide. It is Phainon’s will, and the will of the king.”

Her lips curved slightly. “Yes. But wills can change.”

A threat. Thinly veiled, but a threat nonetheless.

You did not flinch. “What are you suggesting?”

Evanthe stepped closer. “I am suggesting that your presence is unnatural. You have disrupted what should have been, stolen what was meant for another. You were not born for this role. You were not raised for it. You are a mere daughter of a noble house—nothing more.”

“And yet, I stand where you do not.”

Her smile faltered. “Do you think yourself untouchable?”

“No,” you said evenly. “But I am protected.”

And as if summoned by your words, a shadow loomed behind you. Phainon.

His arrival was silent, but his presence was suffocating. His blue eyes flickered to Evanthe, sharp as a blade.

“Lady Evanthe,” he greeted, voice deceptively calm. “You seem lost.”

She took a step back, stiffening. “Your Highness, I was merely—”

“Insulting my wife” he interrupted smoothly.

A beat of silence.

“That was not my intention—”

“Oh?” Phainon’s gaze darkened. “Then I must be mistaken. But I do so hate being mistaken.”

Evanthe paled. She knew what he was. She knew what he could do.

And yet, she had been foolish enough to believe she could challenge you.

“This will be the last time you speak to her” Phainon continued “If I so much as hear your name in her presence again, I will erase your house from history.”

Evanthe swallowed hard, her fingers trembling at her sides.

“Do you understand?”

She curtsied—low, deep, desperate. “Yes, Your Highness.”

Without another word, she turned and fled.

You sighed, glancing at Phainon. “You didn’t have to terrify her.”

He looked down at you, expression unreadable. “Do you want them to challenge you?”

You hesitated. “No, but—”

“Then let them fear.”

His hand found yours, lacing your fingers together.

“You are mine” he murmured. “And I will burn down this kingdom before I let anyone take you from me.”

Disguised in simple clothing, you had slipped past the palace gates under the cover of dusk, accompanied only by a single trusted handmaiden. You had always known that rulers must understand their people, but what you witnessed in the city left a heavy weight in your chest. Cracked roads, hungry children, merchants struggling under unfair taxation—troubles that never reached the palace halls. You knew Phainon was focused on war and politics, but this? This needed to be fixed.

By the time you returned to the palace, you were already drafting solutions in your mind to present to him first thing in the morning.

But Phainon had found out before then. And he was waiting.

The moment you stepped into your chambers, the air shifted.

"Close the door" came a voice from the shadows.

Your heart skipped. The handmaiden behind you flinched, bowing quickly before retreating. The doors shut.

You turned slowly.

Phainon sat in the chair near the window, bathed in moonlight. His eyes glowed in the dim room, sharp and unreadable.

"Did you think I wouldn’t know?" His voice was dangerously soft.

You swallowed, steadying yourself. "I had a reason—"

"You disobeyed me."

You exhaled sharply. "Phainon, I do not exist solely to obey you."

He stood, and in an instant, he was in front of you, close enough for his warmth to press against your skin, close enough for you to see the way his jaw tensed in barely contained fury.

"You left the palace alone," he seethed. "Without guards. Without me."

"I needed to see things for myself" you countered, refusing to step back. "There are people suffering under policies that have gone unnoticed—"

"And what would have happened if someone recognized you? If they had tried to take you from me?"

You hesitated, but only for a breath. "Then I would have dealt with it."

He let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Would you? Would you have fought them while injured? While still recovering from the last attempt on your life?"

Silence.

Then, he inhaled, slow and controlled.

"You don’t understand." he murmured, voice quieter now—but no less intense. "Every time you are out of my sight, I can feel the threats closing in. I can feel the daggers aimed at your back. You are my greatest treasure, and yet you walk straight into the lion’s den without hesitation."

Your heart ached.

"I’m not trying to make you worry" you whispered.

He closed his eyes briefly, his forehead pressing against yours.

"And yet you do."

For a moment, the world stilled.

Then, a sudden clank echoed through the chamber, followed by a low thud.

The two of you turned sharply.

The door.

Locked.

Phainon’s lips pressed into a thin line as he stepped forward, testing the handle. When it didn’t budge, his gaze darkened. "Someone will die for this."

You sighed, rubbing your temples. "It’s the wind, Phainon. The lock on this door is old—it must have fallen into place when the door shut."

He didn’t look convinced.

"So we’re stuck?"

"Until morning, most likely."

A long silence.

Then, without warning, Phainon turned, grabbed you by the waist, and lifted you effortlessly into his arms.

"What are you—?"

"If we are to be trapped, we might as well be comfortable." he stated, carrying you toward the bed.

You huffed, crossing your arms. "I can walk, you know."

"And yet you do not stop me."

You scowled, but didn’t protest.

Lying in the dim candlelight, neither of you spoke for a long while.

Then, softly- "I’m sorry" you said.

Phainon stilled beside you.

You turned to face him, eyes sincere. "I won’t apologize for wanting to help the people, but I will apologize for worrying you."

His eyes studied you, unreadable at first, then, slowly, something softened in them.

"I should not cage you" he admitted. "I know that. And yet, the thought of losing you—" He exhaled. "It would unmake me."

Your chest ached. Gently, you reached out, intertwining your fingers with his.

"Then let me promise you this," you whispered. "I will be careful. I will not put myself at risk needlessly. But in return, you must trust me to act when I see injustice."

He was silent.

Then, finally, he squeezed your hand.

"Very well."

You smiled, relieved.

But just as you began to relax, a shiver ran through you.

Cold.

Phainon noticed instantly.

"You’re trembling."

"I’m fine" you lied, though the way you curled into yourself said otherwise.

He tsked, pulling you into his warmth. "Foolish woman" he murmured against your hair. "You’ve caught a cold."

You groaned. "It’s not my fault."

"Oh, but it is" he teased, a smirk curling his lips. "Weak from your last injury, sneaking out into the cold air… truly, you should be grateful that I am strong. At least our future children will have excellent physical condition."

You swatted at him weakly. "Phainon!"

He chuckled, shifting to hold you closer, his arms an unyielding shield around you.

"Sleep" he murmured. "I will be here when you wake."

[acer-whumpstuff]

Robot whumpee needs to evacuate an area

But they’re not finished charging yet

[coryosbaby]

I am BEGGING you to write about hannigram x innocent fem reader. mayyyybee featuring age gap and breeding? :) she just asks them "what does break my belt mean?" and oh..

Caretaker… Hannigram x fem! Reader

Synopsis: it’s up to Will and Hannibal to take care of you, however that may be.

Content warning . 18+, MDNI age gap (reader is in her early 20s), spanking/usage of belts, punishments, dumbification, threesome, cum play, daddy kink . hard dom! Hannibal, soft dom! Will

Author’s Note: I didn’t know how to go about this (my brain isn’t braining rn) so I did smth similar :) this is literally pure filth like Im ovulating sorry

‧₊˚ 🩰 ⋅* ‧₊

“You need to stop being so hard on yourself.”

Will’s voice is soft as he gently rubs your sock clad feet, watching the small wince that you make when he grazes over a bruised toe. You adjust yourself on your bed, bottom becoming numb from how long you’ve been sitting. You slide the sleeves of your dress back up on your shoulders— they have a hard time staying up, and it’s something that annoys you incredibly.

“He’s right,” Hannibal chimes from the cushioned seat in the corner of the room. He closes the book in his hand and sets it on the desk beside him. It’s funny, how different these two men look in your pink, frilly room. “You’re working yourself too hard, little one.”

You frown, feeling the bed dip as Hannibal joins you and Will’s side.

“But ballet is important to me.”

“So is your health,” Will replies, and notices the way you seem to fidget in your dress. “Is your dress bothering you, baby?”

You nod, heat creeping up your neck when Will lifts the hem of it over your head. Now clad in your bra and cotton panties, you feel open and exposed. But since it’s Hannibal and Will, you feel safer than you’ve ever been.

“Come here,” Will says, and you crawl over to the place in between his spread thighs as he leans against your headboard. Hannibal follows in quiet suit, moving to Will’s side and holding your hand in his much larger one. Will’s hands play with your hair as you think back to something you’d been wanting to ask the two for a while.

“Can one of you use your belt on me?”

The soft scrape against your scalp stops at the question.

“What?”

“I mean,” you mumble, cheeks flaring. “I was watching a video.. ‘n.. the guy, he—“

“You’ve been watching naughty videos?” Hannibal inquires. You shake your head, wide doe eyes flashing.

“No!” You reply, too quickly. “No, of course not.”

“Hmm,” the man shifts, gripping the soft skin of your jaw gently with his hand. Looking into your eyes, he can see the deceit in them. “You have, haven’t you? You know what we say about those videos, darling. They’re bad for you,” he looks back to the other man in the room. “Maybe we will have to spank her after all. Don’t you think, Will?”

“Play nice, Hannibal,” Will warns, though his mouth pulls into a small, amused smirk. “She’s sensitive. Probably doesn’t even know what she’s asking for.”

“I do.” you whine, pawing at the sleeve of Hannibal’s suit. He chuckles, thumb rubbing gently over your wrist.

“Come here then, little one,” Hannibal coos. “Over my knee.”

Your eyes widen, pouty lips dropping open in awe.

“Now?” You squeak.

Will rolls his eyes, patting you softly on the arm.

“You heard him, Bunny. Go on.”

Getting on your hands and knees, panty clad ass now revealing the puff ball bunny tail on the back of the fabric, the two of them think you’re the cutest little thing they’ve ever seen. You hear the sound of a belt buckle being undone, and watch as Will hands over his belt to Hannibal. It’s your favorite one, plain black but with a belt buckle that has your initials imprinted. Will wears it often— he’s not one to have flashy accessories, but since it was a gift from you he cherishes it dearly.

Since Will is on Hannibal’s left side, you decide to position yourself with your face directed towards him. This leads to your arms and face being smooshed against Will’s thighs, and he gently rubs your head with his hands. Hannibal hums when your ass lifts up for him, bunny tail flickering as you move your hips to get his attention.

“We should keep these on, don’t you think?” He says, fingers grazing over the bunny tail. “Too precious to pull them down, lover.”

You nod shyly, letting out a puff of air when Will’s fingers begin fumbling with the hooks on your bra. He advises you to slide the straps off your shoulders when he undoes them, and you awkwardly shuffle them off. Will’s hands move around your back to grope one of your breasts. The feeling of cold leather against your backside makes you whimper, and Hannibal positions his hand on the bottom of your thigh.

“Move your hands behind your back,” Hannibal demands. “You aren’t in any position of control. If you want to stop, you know the rules.”

“Yes, daddy,” you reply, almost immediately. You move your arms back to link them together, Will’s hands gripping the both of yours tightly to make sure you don’t move.

“Good girl,” and then, “You’re going to count each one I give you. We will stop at ten since this is your first time.”

You nod, as much as you can with your face buried in Will’s lap. You can feel the hardness in his pants, right up against your cheek, and your mouth waters.

There’s a comforting rub against your left cheek before Hannibal brings the belt down. It isn’t too bad, a slight sting that makes you jump.

“One.” You say, quietly. Your ass lifts up for more.

“Good,” Hannibal praises, soothing the skin once more. “Are you going to watch those videos again?”

You stay silent, contemplating but also being quiet on purpose. You can’t deny that Hannibal getting angry with you makes your panties drenched.

At this, Hannibal slams the belt down onto you once again. A warning. You cry out this time, feeling a burning sensation along your skin.

“Don’t make me ask you again,” he says sternly. “And don’t make me have to break my belt on you, little one.”

“What does that mean?” you whine, ditzy little head genuinely confused by such a simple term. You inhale the scent of Will’s pants, and from above you, the brunette’s hands gently soothe your back.

“Told you, Hanni,” he singsongs. “Doesn’t even know what she’s asking for.”

“Ignoring your interruption,” Hannibal says, annoyed (but not really). He directs his attention back to you. “Tell me, little one. Yes or no?”

You bite your lower lip, cheeks flaring as your arousal increases.

“Yes.”

Hannibal scoffs.

“You’re asking for it, aren’t you?”

The belt comes down on you again. You jump, tears beginning to pool along your waterline.

“What was that?” Hannibal demands harshly. “Was that a yes that I heard?”

“No!” You say. “No, daddy, I’ll never ever watch those videos again! I promise, promise…”

You thrash against the pain, and Hannibal’s palms rub the sore skin.

“Alright,” he replies. “but I’m adding five more. Naughty girls who don’t listen get punished.”

“Hannibal,” Will warns. “She’s fragile.”

“She’s a brat, is what she is, Will. Stop defending her,” Hannibal’s hands wrap around your hair, pulling your teary eyed face up and craning your neck. “Now count. Starting from three.”

The belt comes down again, and your hands ache, along with your bottom.

“T-Three.” You say. The belt comes down on you again, and again. You count to five.

“You really need to be harder on her,” Hannibal says to Will, who’s subtly grinding against your face as he watches you writhe below him. “She needs to learn that her actions have consequences.”

“I know,” Will sighs, then gently taps the tip of your nose, and smiles softly. “But look at how precious she is.”

Hannibal rolls his eyes, bringing out the sixth then seventh hit. You can already feel the blooming of bruises by the time you hit number ten, and your aching pussy grinds down into Hannibal’s thigh. He seems to allow this, and by the twelfth hit, he’s teasing you about it.

“Is this arousing you, lover?” He asks, amused. “You only have three more to go. You better enjoy it.”

“Mm, she is,” Will cuts in, reaching down between your legs to feel your soaked panties. “Little pussy is so wet,” and then, “You ruined your panties, pup.”

Mewling, you allow another smack to come down onto your ass.

“T-Thirteen,” you whimper out. “Could.. could you buy me some new panties, Will?”

Another smack. Another number. Will tilts his head, staring at your panty clad ass.

“Mm,” he replies. “I don’t know, Hannibal. What do you think?” His fingers grasp the puff ball tail and tug it up. This makes your panties ride up in between your folds, and you gasp, humiliated. “I think baby blue would really suit her.”

“That, or lilac,” the eldest man replies. “We’ll get you a new set, little one. But only because it benefits us as much as it benefits you.”

You smile, giddy with excitement to take another shopping trip. Hannibal rubs your ass again, and Will kisses you on the head.

“One more for us, alright?”

You nod, perky ass throbbing with heat. Hannibal slams the belt down, and this time you let out a sob. It was the harshest hit, one sure to leave a welt or two. Hannibal coos when he sees your look of pain, throwing the belt to the side and gently massaging you.

“Shhh. It’s alright. Come here, darling.”

You maneuver your body to slide in between Hannibal’s legs, pulling him into a hug. His arms wrap around your smaller form, and he kisses your hair, allowing you to bury your face into his shoulder. You let out a few more stray tears while he and Will both soothe the ache on your bottom.

“You know we only do this because we have to.” Hannibal murmurs.

“I know, daddy.”

“Actions have consequences, and you asked for this sort of punishment. So we decided to give it to you,” he explains, and pulls away to wipe away your tears with his thumbs. “Did you enjoy it?”

You nod, a small smile grazing your lips.

“I did. I enjoyed it a lot.”

“Good,” he replies. “And since you’ve taken your punishment so well, I’m giving you the opportunity to ask for something. Whatever you want, you can have it.”

Your eyes brighten.

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

You lick your lips, contemplating your options with excitement.

“Hmm,” you say, and then finally come to your decision. You look over to your second boyfriend, who seems to be watching you with an almost love struck gaze. “I want Will… want his mouth. Please?”

Will licks his lips at the statement. Oral is one of his favorite things to give.

“Very well,” Hannibal says, then gestures for Will. “She can lay in between my legs. You lay between hers.”

Will nods, and you happily turn around and begin sliding off your panties. Spreading your legs, you look up at Will with doe eyes as he approaches you. His lips touch yours, sliding easily against the expanse of your mouth. When he pulls away, the scent of your arousal overtakes his senses. He groans, moving down in between your legs.

Hannibal’s big arms wrap around your shoulders, keeping you still. Will flawlessly licks a stripe up your slit, making you whimper and hold onto Hannibal for dear life as he begins to eat you like a man starved. His mouth works wonders against your tiny hole and aching clit as he groans into your cunt, drinking your sweet juices like it’s nectar of the Gods.

“How does she taste?” Hannibal asks, even though he already knows the answer. He loves to go down on you just as much as the other man.

Will pulls away, chin dripping and hair disheveled.

“So fuckin’ sweet,” he gasps out, nosing at your folds. His thumbs spread them apart, exposing your hole that’s coated in creamy slick. “Cutest fuckin’ cunt I’ve ever seen.”

You clench, letting him see the opening and closing of your hole. You want him to stick his tongue back inside.

You don’t have to wait long for that, because a mere second later Hannibal’s big hand splays across the back of Will’s head and pushes him back down. Will lets out a moan at this, allowing Hannibal to guide his head up and down and every which way that brings you closer and closer to your peak. Hannibal smirks, watching the way you writhe under his tongue and watch Will with hungry, lidded eyes.

“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” He says, and you can feel his hardness pressing against your back.

Drool seeps down your chin as you nod.

“Mhm..” you whine out. Your hands go to the boy’s hair, and he whimpers when you tug on the strands.

“He likes when you do that,” Hannibal observes, his tone low. He kisses the shell of your ear. “Do it again.”

You comply, watching the way Will’s hips grind down into the mattress when it happens and the way Hannibal lets out a heavy breath. Will’s mouth works harder, bringing your clit in between his lips and lightly sucking. You gasp out his name, hips moving against him in tandem.

“Will, Daddy.. ‘m so close..”

“Close, yes?” Hannibal taunts, and his grip around your throat tightens. His biceps practically squeeze your neck as you near closer and closer to your high, your throat gasping for breath. When your orgasm overtakes you, Hannibal loosens his grip, but not quite. You let out a raw, pleasure filled moan when you cum, Will working you through until the point of overstimulation, your legs shaking and your sock clad feet pushing on his shoulders. He chuckles when he pulls away, a pleased grin forming as he wipes his slick coated mouth on the back of his wrist. And boy, is it a sight. He licks up the remaining remnants of your arousal with his tongue, hands splaying on either side of you and Hannibal’s legs so he can move up and kiss you filthily on the mouth. Hannibal is next, a tender peck that makes the cock against your lower back twitch. It has him licking his lips when Will pulls away, his lashes fluttering as he sighs in content. He presses a kiss to your mouth, too, and relaxes even further.

It’s only a mere moment of rest before you can feel that familiar throb again, and the sight of your two boys bulging through their pants makes you drool. You spread your legs, overstimulated pussy on full display.

Will, who had been laying at the foot of the bed in front of the both of you, watches with hunger. You lean away from Hannibal, instead turning yourself on your knees and presenting yourself to Will, who’s already positioning himself behind you eagerly. Hannibal, the most patient out of all three of you, no doubt, finally takes his aching cock out of his pants and wraps a hand around himself at the scene. You hear the rustling of Will’s fly being undone, then his length is pressed against your ass and wet, oh so wet, even when he slides it in between your folds and sheathes himself inside your little hole with one swift movement. Your mouth drops open at the sensation of being filled, your hands finding purchase on Hannibal’s thick thighs in front of you. His cock is hitting his stomach, red and leaking drops of precum down the tip, and you watch as Hannibal rubs it up and down with his hand. You look up at him pleadingly as Will begins to pound you into the mattress.

“You want daddy’s cock in your mouth, is that it?” Hannibal teases, and you nod. He sighs, directing the tip of his cock towards you. “Open wide, sweet girl.”

You happily obey, tongue lolling out to lick at his tip, his stringy precum sticking to your bottom lip and the head of his cock, tasting absolutely divine. Will’s hands roam over your ass as his cock bullies your gummy walls.

“Mm, Hanni got you good, didn’t he, baby?” He says, examining the marks. “Gonna have to put some lotion on that later.”

The use of the nickname in Will’s mouth is a mockery of your own. You nod, however, pouting.

“Mhm. But Daddy knows what’s best for me.”

“That’s right,” Hannibal grunts out, when you take him fully down your throat. “Dumb little girls like you can’t think for themselves. That’s why you need Will and I to take care of you,” and then, “God, darling, your mouth is just perfect.”

You hum, choking on him. Will’s fingers bruise your hips now, his balls slapping against your ass with every harsh thrust. Your pussy quakes around him, clamping down on his length. His breath is warm against your ear as he pushes in and out of you.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby..” as he watches your ass bounce back against him.

“Look at that tight little pussy, practically choking my dick.” as he spreads your cheeks apart, watching the way you take him.

“Hannibal’s cock tastes good, doesn’t it?” As you come up for air and gasp, drool soaking your neck and chin.

You can feel when he gets close by the way his hips stutter, and with a lewd whine hes babbling endlessly.

“I’m gonna cum,” he says. “Gonna cum in this slut pussy— god, squeeze me just like that.”

“Please,” you whimper endlessly, and you can hear Hannibal let out a breathy chuckle.

“She wants it. She wants you to cum in her cunt,” his voice drops an octave as he watches the boy. “Come on. I need something to lubricate her more once I get my turn, don’t I?”

“Oh—“

Will’s eyes roll back, his body tensing up as he finally releases inside her. She clenches down on him, milking him for all he’s worth as he shoots rope after rope deep inside her gaping pussy. Hannibal’s fingers nestle into the boy’s hair as he rides out his orgasm, gently twirling the soft locks in between his fingers. You watch with your mouth turned into an o, burying yourself deeper against Hannibal’s chest in retaliation.

“There you go,” Hannibal coos when Will sighs against your chest, spent. “Good boy.”

“Tease,” Will mumbles back to him, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck. His eyes look up at you and he smiles. “Are you okay?”

You giggle, nodding your head.

“More than okay.”

He looks down at the mess between your thighs as he pulls out, grunting. A trail of his spend pools out of you and onto the sheets.

His fingers begin to move up to your drenched clit— you need release to, after all, and Will is never a selfish lover—but before he can, Hannibal’s hand grabs his wrist.

“No,” he utters. “Let me, once I’m inside her.”

“Like I said,” Will grumbles, moving out from between your legs to settle back against the headboard. “Tease.”

Hannibal rolls his eyes, guiding you to turn around and face him. You bite your lower lip at the feeling of Will’s cum trailing down your thighs. Hannibal undoes his belt, pulling down his zipper so his pants are open and his briefs are exposed.

“Take me out, darling.”

She reaches into the waistband of his underwear, pulling his length out and giving it a few languid strokes. Will watches, his spent cock twitching against his stomach. He ignores it, instead deciding to move to your side and press a kiss to your heated cheek. His hand provides a comforting pressure to the back of your head as he settles it in your hair. Hannibal tilts his head, grabbing the back of your thighs and pulling you into his lap.

“Put my cock inside you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Be a good girl.”

Your lashes flutter at the vulgar term spilling from the usually polite man’s lips. Will’s hands scrape against your scalp and your brain is fuzzy with how good it all feels. Grabbing Hannibal’s length in your hand, you position your dripping cunt over the tip of his cock.

Sinking down makes your brows furrow. Hannibal isn’t as big as Will, but that isn’t saying much. The man still has a considerable size, and his girth stretches your gummy walls exceptionally. You whimper, settling down to the very base of his cock. Hannibal’s head tilts back and hits the headboard, his eyes squeezing shut to get used to the sensation of you wrapped around him. His big hands splay across your hips and Will nuzzles your throat affectionately.

“Daddy.” you whine, your little pussy beginning to rock onto Hannibal.

“Yes?”

“Fuck me, please?”

He smiles, pulling you further against him so he can brace his feet underneath you. His cock gives a few shallow thrusts, getting used to your heat, before moving into more dangerous territory. It isn’t long before he’s jackhammering into you, your head tilted back by Will’s big hands. He demands you open your mouth, and you do. A glob of spit lands on your tongue, which you swallow greedily. Hannibal groans as he watches the scene.

“Filthy little things,” he mutters, pulling you into a kiss. You both share Will’s saliva on your intertwining tongues.

Your thighs shake as Hannibal’s cock and balls leak with Will’s cum. The sound is utterly sinful— the gushing sounds of his cock pummeling your filled pussy, his balls slapping against your ass, the sobs tearing through your throat. Tears stream down your cheeks and you’re sobbing.

Hannibal’s fingers reach down to your clit, deftly rubbing against the swollen nub exactly the way you like. It isn’t long before you reach your peak, your pussy clenching down as a string of filthy words makes its way out of your throat, burying your face in Hannibal’s white button down and staining it with salty tears. Will is an absolute sweetheart, guiding your hips with his hands to help you, cooing little sweet sayings in your ear. He cakes your throat in pretty red marks.

Hannibal draws closer to his orgasm, small grunts and heavy breaths spilling out of his mouth. It isn’t long before he empties inside you, filling you up with a second load of sticky, white cum. He pulls your limp body off of his length, your pussy making a gushing sound as both of your boyfriend’s dribble out of you. The two men sigh when they see it, their cocks both twitching at the sight.

But all three of you have had enough for the day— or at least for the next few hours. Hannibal disappears out of the room for a moment to bring back a glass of water and lotion. He holds the water to your lips and sweetly coos, “you’ve been such an obedient girl. Drink, okay?”

You do, of course. You drink the whole damn glass.

After going into the bathroom to pee and wipe your cum covered thighs, Hannibal lotions your sore bottom with gentle hands. After this you finally crawl back into bed, moving onto your stomach and hugging your pillow tightly. Will chuckles.

“You don’t want a bubble bath?” He asks, because that’s usually what you request. But you just shake your head, your eyes fluttering shut. Not asleep, but almost. Will nods his head. “Later then, sweet girl.”

The boy crawls to your side, wrapping his big arm around you and pulling you to his side. Hannibal soon joins, his tie loosened and jacket off, pants unbuttoned. It’s rare to see him in such a messy state, relaxed. Only you and Will can help him unwind like this.

He lays on his back, and you lay your head on his chest, inhaling his strong, expensive cologne. Beside you, you can smell the aftershave that Will wears— Hannibal teases him about it, but you’re quite fond of it. It smells like home.

They smell like home.

You smile sleepily, watching with barely open eyes as Hannibal and Will’s hands connect over you. As you fall into a peaceful sleep, the two men on either side of you stay wide awake.

After a moment, Will chuckles.

“So I’m assuming we’ll be using my belt more often?”

“Guaranteed,” hannibal confirms, watching you drool onto his shirt in your sleep. He never mentions it to you because he doesn’t want you to be embarrassed. “Perhaps we can use it on you next time, Will”

The younger man scoffs, his cheeks flaring as he buries his face into your hair.

“Shut up, Hanni.”

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi @kaithoughs @jamespotterismydaddy @wildgirllz

[mochinomnoms]

i know in the leech family that its a running joke that the mc is their cleaner shrimp and i cant help but think when its finally the leech parents turn!

Imagine mc and the leech family are going out to do some family bonding and the mc causally picks off some lint or hair off papa leech or mama leech and their mood just instantly brightens :D They go like “thank you dear! Is there anything else on me?” And the parents are just spinning around happy because their child-in-law is doing shrimp things with them! (Meanwhile jade and floyd are off to the side being like “what about me D:<”)

also may I be 🪸 anon or 💫 anon?

YEEAAAAH FAMILY SHRIMP!!!

I think it's a very sweet idea! Whether it's just one of the twins or both that you've gotten involved in, they both enjoy your fretting and picking at them. Floyd most often gets your attention, as he's always getting up to stuff and messy. However, he's more prone to scrapes from basketball and burns from cooking at the lounge, so he gets lots of attention from you. Floyd loves it, he loves being taken care of for once, instead of being feared or seen as a big bad eel. He needs loving too! He needs to be treated tenderly and kindly. Floydie just wants to be loved, and who better to do that than you?

Jade on the other hand will just get dirty when hiking and foraging, but rarely get any scrapes or cuts. He might bruise here or there depending on how it went, but over all you're more likely to need to clean stray twigs, leaves, and dirt for him. In fact, you'll find Jade approaching you after his extensions, every single time, asking for your assistance. Maybe join him in the bath and help him clean up? As his cleaner shrimp? Pretty pleeease? After all, the caretaker needs some caring too sometimes.

When you eventually get introduced to the family and properly fit into your place with the Leeches, with an appropriate shrimp merform! Papa and Mama Leech are just happy that their boys have such a sweet partner. You further solidify your spot when they learn about your “shrimp” tendencies. They think it's so cute! So imagine their delight when you start tending to them like you do their sons!

Papa Leech will often find himself get into...”scuffles” after work. Normally, the family doctor would be available to patch him up, but they were already attending to a patient of theirs. Here comes their resident shrimp, offering to patch him up! You babbling about Floyd and how he always got hurt from his activities at school, so it wasn't a problem. At this point, you're practically a pro! Papa Leech has stars in his eyes, though, he has the cutest child-in-law!!! And you've been doing this for his boys, for free??!! Screw Floyd and Jade if they ever break up with you (like they'd ever would) cause Papa is keeping you in the family for the foreseeable future. Not only are you convenient, but you care for him like family, he'd be a barnacle to let you go. If you're not already married to his boys, prepare yourself, cause he's already organizing the engagement and wedding. No, he did not ask his boys beforehand.

As for Mama Leech, she's been repeated described as a worrywart, and overly cautious, especially regarding her family. I think that, since you weren't brought up in the family like her boys, would be prone to keeping you at her side. If Papa and the twins are off for “work” then you can find her snatching you up for some mother-in-law time to keep you nice and safe! This is when she gets her own version of shrimp tending, via you doing her hair and makeup! She does love dressing up and looking pretty, and is delighted when you start brushing through her hair with your fingers, braiding it and softly applying her lipstick. It's been so long since her boys were little and played dress up with her! But here you are, so sweet and soft and gentle with her! She's now become attached, if you so much as try and leave the family, Mama is sobbing and begging you to stay, while also strangling her sons for what ever they did wrong (she knows they did something the little troublemakers).

I'd say that the twins only get mildly jealous, after all, the more time you spend with their parents the less they get with you! And you're their partner!!! They suppose they should be happy that you get along so well with their parents. Except Floyd. Floyd wishes to monopolize your time and will hide you away with Jade in a dark coral nook. He called you Shrimpy first, it's his right!!!

(I will dub thee 🪸 anon!! welcome!)

[inky-duchess]

Who fell first? Who fell harder?

Who is the one who fusses the most? Does their S/O mind very much?

What is their love language?

Has either OC ever gotten a hickey off the other? What was their reaction?

What is something they like to do together?

Who would ask the "would you love me if I were a worm?" question? How would their S/O answer?

Who likes forehead kisses? Who likes hand kisses? Who likes neck kisses?

Who is the big spoon? Little spoon?

If there wasnt enough seats, how would they sit? One on the other's lap? One on the armrest? One on the floor in front of them?

Who plays with whose hair?

Who is clingy?

What is something their S/O does that makes them flustered?

What is something they find hot about their S/O?

What is something they argue about constantly? Is it a deep-seated issue or something small?

How do they comfort one another when the other is upset?

Who is the better caretaker? Does their S/O like being taken care of?

Who steals whose clothes? Does their significant other mind?

They've had a major blowout. How do they handle it?

How good are they are communication?

Who handles the spiders? Who screams directions in the background?

Who typically tends to initiate intimacy first (this can be a conversation, action or anything)?

What is something - either character - doesn't like about the other?

Who said "I love you" first?

Who kissed who first?

Do they have any pet names for one another?

Who gets jealous most often? How does their S/O deal with that?

Who tends to drive on long journeys? Who navigates?

Do they trust one another? Are comfortable discussing their fears with one another?

What's an insecurity they hold about their relationship?

Describe how one character would cheer the other up after a hard day.

How would they describe one another.

Can they communicate private thoughts whilst in company? If so, how?

Which one of them gives "that look" when they other is acting like a fool?

How do they address a problem in their relationship?

How does each significant other view any exes and former relationships?

What is something that would break their hearts?

Who is more likely to avenge their S/O if they were hurt or killed?

What would be their ideal evening in?

Do they dance? If so, who's better?

What is a song that reminds you of the OCs' relationship?

Who sings to the other? Are they any good?

Who teases who? What about?

Who gets up early? Who stays in bed late?

Who's more likely to bring the other coffee or breakfast in bed?

What's the worst thing the other can say to one?

If they were ever in a life or death situation, who risks their life?

If it ever came down to it, who is turning to the darkside to save the other?

If they ever had less that 5 mins to tell their S/O something before never seeing them again, what would they say?

Is there a word or gesture that makes either of them melt?

Who's the romantic?

Are there any characters who ship them?

Who cooks? Who does the dishes?

Who eats healthier? Who's got the sweet-tooth?

What's something that they don't really care for but tolerate because S/O has an interest?

Who spoils who? Does their S/O tolerate it? Do they secretly enjoy it?

Who tends to be the level-headed one? Who is feral?

Who reminds the other to wear a coat when it's cold out?

Do they hold hands?

Is there a spot they tend to kiss or caress habitual?

Are they willing to show PDA? If not, is there a reason?

How would they describe their S/O in one word?

How would outside characters describe their relationship?

How would they describe one another in bed?

Would they ever answer the above question if it was asked to their face? How would they react?

Who tends to take the lead in intimate encounters?

Have they ever been caught in the act? What would be their reaction if they were?

Have they ever done it anywhere questionable?

Who is more vocal? Who is more experienced?

If they were to go shopping, who holds the bags? Who decides where they go?

If they went out to dinner, who is paying? Would there even be a discussion?

If someone were to insult their S/O, how would the other handle it?

If someone flirted with or showed an interest in their S/O, how would the other react?

Who knows the other better? Why is this?

Who's more likely to bail who out of jail? Would they give the other one shit for it?

Which - if any - other famous ship's vibes do they emulate?

Are they soulmates? Do they believe in that?

What is something they would never forgive the other one for doing/saying?

Who has memorised the other's medical history?

Also, are they each other's first contact in an accident?

What tropes could be applied to this relationship?

Did they have a meet cute? Or was it a train wreck?

Make their relationship into a list of A03 tags.

Who gets frustrated more easily? Who does the other calm them down?

Have they ever almost lost one another? How does it effect their relationship?

Their S/O is tipsy. How do they handle it?

Who gives the best gifts? Who gives the more thoughtful? Who goes for expensive?

If they ever lost one another in a public place, how do they find the other?

What's the darkest secret they have ever told one another?

Would they ever consider marriage?

Would they ever consider starting a family?

Who likes kids more? Who can't stand them?

There's a puddle in one's way. What does their S/O do?

One has hurt their leg on a hike. How does their S/O carry them?

Their pet has caused destruction. Who puts the pet in jail? Who defends the pet?

Who gives flowers to their S/O? What sort of flowers do they like?

Who reads the newspaper? Who wants to see the cartoons?

How do they wake their S/O up? Is it difficult to rouse them?

Who would burn the world down for who?

Who gives off "they said no pickles" energy?

Make a meme of this ship.

You can ask me about: Nikolai/Misha, Alekks/Erika, Katya/Marina, Hadrien/Art

[barbaricjester]

What if the Mystery Shack was alive. Almost like that movie Monster House, but... Gentler.

It's made from lumber that was grown and chopped down in Gravity Falls, and the entire valley itself has a weirdness to it, which is why weird things are attracted to and tend to stay there. It's not a far stretch to assume that the valley itself, the trees and rocks, are all semi conscious, almost, in an Eldritch sense.

Put under a read more because this got rambly.

What if the Mystery Shack was built, and at first it's angry. Gravity Falls doesn't mind its trees being used for shelter, used to expand the town and protect it, but Stanford wasn't part of the town. He was a stranger.

After he moved in, the cabin itself was hostile to him. It could rearrange his furniture, hide his keys, attract monsters to his door- all of which Ford is oblivious to, for a while. For long enough that the cabin gets to know him, in a sense.

Ford isn't here to hurt the valley's weird things, it realizes in whatever consciousness it has. He's here to learn. To study. To treasure. Slowly, it warms up to him. Things stop going missing. Now monsters show up on the porch, passive and willing to be studied. Now Ford's keys always seem to be right where he thought he put them last.

When Fiddleford joins, the cabin takes a while to warm up to him, too. But it likes the banjo music, and Fiddleford even comments that the house seems calm, almost sleepy, when he plays.

Then of course, things with Bill happens. The cabin isn't strong enough to protect its caretaker, to keep Bill out, but it tries. When Ford wakes with bloody knuckles, a first aid kit is at his bedside table. When he's frantically gulping coffee, the pot always seems full and fresh. When he stumbles inside from the blistering cold, there's a fire roaring in the hearth, a blanket on the couch, to comfort him.

When Bill is possessing Ford's body, the cabin does everything it can to keep him inside, doubling down on Ford's own security to keep Bill away from the portal in its basement.

When Stan arrives, the cabin is as relieved as it can be- there's help, now, Ford will be okay-!

And then Ford is gone, and the cabin is powerless to stop it.

It grieves. It mourns. The shabby cabin sinks in on itself. Its walls peel, its floors crack, melted snow drips thought the roof like tears. It knows the new resident is mourning, too. The new resident doesn't take care of himself, and he doesn't take care of the cabin. When he cries, the groaning logs almost seem to wail with him.

But the new resident is trying. Trying to get Ford back. The portal makes it hard for the cabin to reach down into the basement, but it tries. It watches, anxious and hopeful that its old master will be saved.

As the years go by, the cabin is transformed into the Murder Hut, and later, the Mystery Shack. The night of the grand opening, Stanley pauses and puts his hand on the wall with an anxious sigh. The cabin feels it, and groans as it tries to stand up a little straighter, tries to mend the cracks in its flooring and clear the dust from its own windows. When Stan wanders into the kitchen, he finds a cigar and a drink, waiting for him. It's going to be okay.

Years go by. Stan is aware the cabin has some kind of sentience, but he never outright acknowledges it, other than in quiet moments, when he thanks it, puts a hand on the wall and stands there for a moment.

The cabin likes Soos, because he cleans it and takes care of it. It warms up to Wendy, and she always manages to find a cold can of Pitt Cola or a popsicle when she wants one. The cabin is the one to show her the hatch on the roof.

Then the twins come along, and the cabin can sense how anxious, how excited Stanley is. It cleans itself up as much as it can, proud and anticipating these esteemed guests. And oh, it loves them when they arrive.

The cabin is subtle, at first, but it wants to help. It wants the kids to enjoy staying there. It conjures snacks and sweets aplenty for Mabel, and moved the books around so Dipper always finds something new to read.

Of course Dipper catches on first, especially once he finds the journal. It's a mere footnote, really, that the author left about feeling like the house was alive, but it's enough to get Dipper thinking. He talks to the Shack, he tests things out, and in time, it reveals itself. As muggy summer showers fog the windows, Mabel doodles in the condensation, and finds that something else is drawing with her. Flowers and hearts and smiley faces, she plays tic-tac-toe with no one and is excited to show Dipper.

Of course, Stan denies all of it when they try to tell him, and if the Shack could laugh, it would.

When Gideon takes it over, the cabin has never known such fury. It slams its doors, smashes it's own windows, the floorboards wail and walls crack with rage that Gideon dare hurt its Pines family. It torments, as much as it can, but with the second journal in Gideon's possession, there's only so much it can do that he can't circumnavigate.

At the reopening, the Shack presents its best self. Its so relieved that the family is safe, it conjures boxes of cookie mix and makes their beds a little extra soft. It's never been so relieved to have thumbtacks driven into its rafters as Mabel hangs her posters back up.

And then. And then Stan has the journals again. Then he's buckled down and getting to work, and the cabin stirs, an anticipation, a hope, three decades old beginning to grow anew. It takes care of Stan as he works himself to the limit, helps distract the kids.

And finally, finally, finally- even though it nearly tears the Shack apart, its still alive enough to know when its old master returns, stepping back into its basement. Home at last. Safe.

The whole family, in their own ways, apologize to the Shack as it's repaired after that, but it just sighs. Just groans. It's alright. It's just happy to have Ford back. It tries conjuring endless coffee, first aid kits and blankets again for him, and Ford laughs, pats the wall and promises that he's okay, that he missed the Shack, too.

The unicorn spell makes the Shack stronger. It can't speak, it can't move, but it is proud to do what it does best- protect.

Weirdmageddon comes, and the shack doesn't think twice about opening its doors to the cryptids, creatures, and survivors. It's the Shack but it's made of the valley, and the valley's residents need protection. It locks itself down, keeps them all safe inside, dolling out blankets and aid kits until it has utterly exhausted itself and its magic. As anxious as a house can be, it frets for the missing Pines members, and is overjoyed when Mabel and Dipper return.

When they decide to make the Shacktron, Stanley is the only one to think to ask the house if it's okay with that. The Shack doesn't like it, but if it means saving the valley, then... It groans softly to Stan. It's going to be okay.

The Shack nearly dies in the fight. The unicorn spell is the only thing that holds it and its consciousness together. It's collapsed, ruinous, rubble, when the family returns. It's feeble, but it tries. It straightens up Stan's recliner, clears the debris off the seat. The Shack is exhausted. It's mourning. But the family is safe.

It's all but dormant as they do repairs. It can't conjure or rearrange things, and the family frets over it. The day of the kids birthday, though, the Shack rouses itself. It sits up a little straighter, holds their birthday banner aloft with pride.

It's sad, too, though. It knows the Pines are leaving. Soos and his abuelita are welcome to stay- and the Shack is relieved it won't be empty- but it misses the Pines terribly. It slams its shutters and the floorboards creak in protest as the little twins leave. It throws an even bigger tantrum when the older ones go, and only settles when they all promise to be back next summer.

(in the meantime, the Shack has a lot of work to do, helping the new Mr. Mystery manage everything. Soos never quite catches on, but Abuelita does.)

So the Shack stays. It waits. It hopes, and it protects.

And when the next summer rolls around, when its family comes back, it welcomes them in, welcomed them home, with open doors.

[thewritetofreespeech]

hello. I read your bg3 marriage headcanons and was wondering if you could do a follow-up on what their first anniversary would be like? also add rolan, even though he wasn't in the original. only if you want to.

BG3 - 1st Anniversary Headcanons

[original ask in question X]

Gale

What does Gale ‘grand gestures are my love language’ Dekarios have planned for your first anniversary? Oh nothing special.

Just all your favorite meals cooked & ready for you. Starting with breakfast in bed. A small, light picnic at your favorite shoreline spot to watch the tides come in and enjoy the sea air. Ending with a romantic candlelight dinner that would put some of the finest Baldurian restaurants to shame.

He gives you a book of love poems as your present. Paper is traditional for the first anniversary after all. It is furthermore inscribed with his own, original poem on the front cover for you.

Astarion

He actually isn’t aware it’s your anniversary. Until he is reminded by someone. It’s not that it’s not important to him. Astarion has just never celebrated one before. How could he, when none of his previous lovers ever even stayed the whole night?

He has to work fast. But luckily Astarion is extremely clever and resourceful.

Playing it off like it was his plan all along to ‘pretend’ to forget, only for you to be further surprised is simply part of his plan. He plays it off so well that you believe him when he tells you that he got you a new necklace because ‘it reminded him of your eyes’. He makes a mental note to remember next year and be more genuine in his efforts.

A!Astarion

Of course, Astarion remembers the day you officially became his. Body, soul, and now legally.

Part of it may just be the celebration of having something that’s his. He hasn’t had anything for so long that he goes overboard. And with you, his most prized treasure, he can’t help it either.

The day, like all your days, is just about the two of you. He has a portrait commissioned for the two of you and commits to having one done every year, so you remember what you look like & how happy you are together. The old ones are kept in an archive below for safe keeping.

Wyll

He’s been looking forward to this day almost as much as getting married to you, the love of his life.

If he chose to stay in the Gate and become the new Grand Duke Ravengard, Wyll will host a ball so that you can celebrate with all those you hold dear. Old and new friends. He has the bard’s college compose a new song to commemorate the occasion, one that he can lead his partner out to the dance floor with and waltz them around all night.

If he went to Avernus to continue as the Blade, they will waltz together, alone, on the stoney rocks of the Hells. While Wyll hums a private tune between them to keep the music going.

Halsin

Halsin isn’t much for ceremonies or constructs of time. Nature and time move hand-in-hand with one another without making much note of their relationship, and he feels that they should do the same.

But…he can appreciate that something like this should be marked & remembered.

He will make time to get away from his duties as ‘Daddy Halsin’ to be a husband for a while; no matter how short it might be. He carves them a beautiful ornament. Something of a remembrance of their year to hang on a tree by their home. Halsin tells them that he hopes, one day, it will be filled with as many happy memories as leaves. The tree growing as with their love for years to come.

+Rolan

Who has time for such frivolities? Rolan has an acclaimed magic shop & literary archive to run, along with the magical commitments he has as the new caretaker of Ramazith's Tower. Surely, as his partner, they must understand that.

Lia gives him an extremely firm talking to about how selfish and narrow-minded he is being. That it’s not just about him anymore it’s about them.

Though Rolan will never admit that she’s right, he does make it up to his spouse. Apologizing to them for being so callous and making an effort to be more ‘traditionally romantic’. He presents them with a single white rose. Enchanted, so that it will never die, never wilt, and never fade. “It will always be as pure and radiant as my love for you. Should I forget to tell you every day, look upon it and remember. Though, I will try to remember to tell you everyday until my last ones.”

[occasionalsnippets]

I’m curious about Tim and MC’s relationship.

Like, is Tim grateful for the fact that MC took care of him?

Does he know that MC took his shifts as Robin so he wouldn’t deal with B’s bad days/nights?

Does he know that Jack and Janet didn’t really like MC?

How much does he resent Jack and Janet?

How does he bond/show his love for his sibling?

Also, how would the members of the Batfam bond with MC? (Before and After Damian snitched)

And what do the Batfam think of MC?

- Storm.Anon

Focusing on just Tim for this! Send another ask for other Batfam members owo because I do want to individually dig into each relationship.

Taglist: @dragondevinity, @lonely-star2044, @sheep-from-rad, @ilxandra, @thethingwiththefeathers, @star-wars-lycanwing-bat, @sackofsadstuff, @zonked-times, @paastaboi, @venfia, @fantasy-angelo, @linaisadream, @shirp-collector-of-fixations

Their relationship is both less complicated and more complicated than it should be. On one hand, you’re Tim's older sister-caretaker-parental figure-best friend- who can’t be categorized neatly into any singular category. On the other hand, none of those categories matter when you are the person he trusts more than anyone else in the world. More than he trusts himself.

Your parents do not hate you. You were an accident (huge, immensely big, giant accident) but they do care for you in some nebulous, difficult to discern, rich-people kind of way. They give you all the money you could want. They teach you the rules of high society and how to deal with the company. They try. Sometimes.

In many ways, you are their protege and student before a lot of things but you are still your mother’s child. A reflection of Janet Drake in every way that matters with a mind like a steel trap and a mouth that murmurs sweet poison. It is one of the main things Tim notes as a child when he thinks of you and mother.

The biggest mark against your parents, really, is the neglect. Their children weren’t their number one priority and both you and Tim knew. They could be worse. They could be better. C+ parenting all around.

Tim’s view on Jack and Janet are a bit fickle? Inconsistent? Complicated? He had wished for a very long time when he was younger for them to come home more often but he never really processed the whole situation until you forced everyone to get therapy. There’s quiet sadness in his feelings about his parents but not really resentment, not like you.

Not that those feelings have anywhere to go anymore. Both of you still grieved during their funerals.

Tim gives you gifts on mother and father's day and overtime the message written in the cards attached get longer and sillier. He still remembers the stillness of your initial reaction when he first presented you with a card.

He hadn't really noticed how much you did behind the scenes until he got older and realized you were internalizing a hell of a lot of things. His early days of existence are marked by your ever encompassing presence in his life. His parents leave. You stay. You always stay even as he digs himself into the pit that is becoming Robin.

He can always rely on you. If there is any truth in his life then it is that you will always be there for him. So, when you tell him with dark shadows cast upon your face that he shouldn't go out as Robin tonight, he accepts with minor protests.

You keep detailed reports on patrol to keep everyone updated when you're filling in as Robin and the ones from Tim's early days are... rough. Tim reads them because of course he does, and talks with you about it. A lot. You insist that he shouldn't have to deal with Batman because Tim is like 13 and Tim keeps saying that he chose this. So, the two of you compromise on it. Teamwork makes the dream work, right?

No one else really reads the old patrol reports. What happens during the early days stays between you and Tim and Bruce. Tim thinks Bruce still feels guilty about it, about both him and you.

Tim shows affection for you the same way you show affection. He'll go to company meetings in your stead. He learns to cook and bring meals to you when you're too busy. He orders materials for your hobbies whenever he notices you're running out.

Your relationship is not immune to normal sibling shenanigans though. You yell, you fight, he stands a centimetre away from the entrance of your room for no apparent reason, the two of you want to kill each other sometimes because "mother and father always liked you better-" and "I never wanted to raise you-"

You and Tim are so crazily co-dependent even if it isn't obvious. You're a bit less dependent than he is but you've also revolved your life around him and everything you do is basically for him so how true that statement is can be debated.

Sometimes you think you need him in order to be allowed to exist. There is no role for you except in reference to him, to your little brother who you'd give the world to.

Tim literally doesn't know how he'd survive or live without you. You taught him unconditional love. You're his favourite person. You've always protected him. He can't fathom the idea of existing without you.

You're impossible to separate from him and him from you. Aren't the two of you one and the same? Where does one end and the other begin? Who is he if not a reflection of you and who you raised him to be?

Alsjfjak so yeah. The Siblings. Them.

[weepingchronicles]

The yandere caitlyn hcs where SO GOOD OMGG, can you please maybe write some about what day to day life would be like “living” with caitlyn. (now I’m picturing the reader doing a “grwm as a kidnapping victim” video) TYY

part one

a/n: i giggled at the grwm joke,, i'd definitely watch that on youtube or tiktok. LMAO.

cw: captivity, yandere behavior, controlling and overbearing behavior, drugging, physical violence, infantilization, amputation

❝yandere!caitlyn kiramman x fem!reader❞

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 I think the day to day routine would change slowly overtime! Depending on how long you've been in Caitlyn's "care."

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 I imagine for awhile from the moment you awoke to months after, Caitlyn would be pretty strict and diligent with routine. Wakes you up at 6 am, get ready for the day, breakfast at 7 sharp, activities for the day, lunch at 2 pm, dinner at 6 pm and bedtime at 10 pm. Obviously there will be small tweaks depending on what you both do but everything has to go through Caitlyn first. The reason for her absolute strictness on this is fear of what might happen if she does not abide by it. You could easily slip from her fingertips, she also wants to be the best caretaker for you and this is her way of proving it to you.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Fortunately, if you continue keep being good and stay out of troubles way she will eventually settle down! Things will be a lot more relaxed, she is still strict on making sure your health is well maintained though. But she'll let you stay up if you want, to a reasonable time of course. Or you can sleep in! As long as she gets cuddles in return. Ugh.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Honestly you'd probably get bored often, especially with Caitlyn's job. So she tends to spend as much time with you as possible.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 She likes to teach you things! From piano lessons, painting and simply reading together. You might not be that willing at first but your boredom gets to you so often that you eventually accept those activities with her. Caitlyn thinks of it as bonding.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 She also loves to pamper you, dressing you up in fancy clothing and dresses or having you try delicious pastries. If you have a sweet tooth then you're in heaven! On calm days, you both will drink tea while reading.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 Her punishments vary, often if you are simply acting out as she likes to call it, she'll simply restrain you or drug you with a light sedative.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 For more severe offenses, like trying to escape or hurt Caitlyn, etc. She will not be happy. She'll restrain you, guide you away from whatever it is you're doing or stop you from trying to hurt her, etc and then she'll lecture you. Like some child. An unequal. You have to maintain eye contact with her too because if you don't she will grab your chin roughly or snatch your hair.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 I can't really see Caitlyn letting you get away with things too easily, this girl holds a grudge so when you mess up it will take even longer to regain her trust back. No matter if you prove yourself or your behavior is as pristine as can be, she will question and look at you suspiciously. She will only relax when she is 100% sure nothing of the sort will happen again.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 She will put you in a guest room and lock you inside, tying you up inside for a couple days until her initial anger wears off. During that time she'll bring you food or anything essential of course, she will also recite the rules of the house over and over, making sure you understand them and the consequences.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 If you're a particularly resistant darling then I am afraid things will not go well for you.. you can only disobey Caitlyn a handful of times before she has to do something about it. Permanently.

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 She will straight up either break your legs so you cannot walk ever again or amputate them. You will need her constantly and she loves it. At this point she has no sympathy for you, at least not in the real way. She pities you but in her mind you made her do this. Why couldn't you just obey her and live her domestic fantasy?

💭 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🧁 "This is your fault, darling."

art credit: @/kulnifer on twt

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [19]

A couple days ago, or maybe it’s been a week now, there had been a horrid storm.

It had been bad enough on the surface but underwater it had caused extremely powerful currents that have dragged a very young Garth away and into the unknown.

He really should have listened to Atlan and stayed put…

Lost and alone, a Little Garth has found himself a lot closer to the surface than usual, the sea currents are still churning pretty bad and he simply can’t navigate his way back to anything remotely familiar.

At this point he’s quite hungry and tired, and he’s found that catching something is somewhat easier nearer to the surface.

However, now something entirely different has caught his attention.

still safely tucked away under the waves. Garth is watching two surface dwellers. judging by size they should be even younger than Garth is, which probably means their caretaker(s) are nearby.

Garth is about to leave them to it and go his own way when he catches on to the erratic kicking movements of the smallest one.

oh, he’s pretty sure surface dwellers aren’t supposed to stay underwater that long, that is if Atlan’s stories are correct.

And even though he’s somewhat terrified, he finds he can’t just… though he probably should…

Well, he ends up saving Danny from drowning.

Jazz and Danny’s parents are busy with a supposed haunted shipwreck and not paying attention.

But by saving Danny Garth found by Maddie and Jack. Who are worried that Garth is there all alone which is like... kinda hypocritical but whatever.

No ghost, but they got a sea boy!

and that quickly has them reassessing their disappointing conclusion that the wreck isn’t haunted, clearly the ghosts are somewhere underwater! After all, the ship was lost at sea and simply washed ashore.

Garth can’t really communicate that great with the Fenton’s. He doesn’t know english, and they do not have telepathy, the only thing he can catch from them is impressions of their emotions, which does make figuring out “yes” and “no” a bit easier.

At first he decides to accept their offer of shelter and food simply because he’s tired and hungry, and they seem like good people even if they are from the surface.

Then Garth makes the mistake of getting attached. All of a sudden he’s put in a eldest brother role. Jazz is determined to teach him english with her kid books and Danny has been attached to him like a barnacle ever since Garth got him out of the water.

And Garth’s needs aren’t even remotely treated as some sort of annoyance, they make note of his need for lots of water and adapt easily.

Everything is extremely overwhelming but thankfully for Garth they don't make the offer to take him with them to Amity Park right away.

They are on a family trip so they stick to the sea for another week and a half or so. After that they ask if he wants to just come with, Danny basically begs him, having an older brother seems like the best thing ever to him.

And Garth ends up taking the offer cause the last week was better than most of his lonely life so far, even if everything is weird and difficult and he can't communicate right.

[karlachismylife]

Totally self indulgent but how would they help take care of a chronically ill partner? (Poly if you don't mind)

((also yes I am having a bad day))

I'm so sorry to hear you're having a bad day, baby, I wish I could be there to help you through it :( These speedrun headcanons just for you are the least I could do, of course. I tried to keep it general enough without making it about any particular disease, because at the end of the day, whatever you're going through, they will be there for you no matter what.

CW: gn!reader with unspecified chronic illness, thus mentions of medical themes, medications, treatments, doctors and some things our bodies go through, symptoms and such. Also some controlling/soft dom/caretaker behaviour I guess, but without dabbling into CGL territory. Last paragraph is suggestive, but not explicit.

So, with any chronic disease, there are better days and worse days, ups and downs, and sometimes bad days happen unpredictably, sometimes you can kinda feel them coming, sometimes you just know that whatever you just did, be it going out all night for the concert of your favourite music band or just spoiling yourself with food you know will fuck you up but tastes too good to pass - and throughout all that your four partners stay attentive and vigilant.

Each and every one of them (even Soap, however unlikely) knows the importance of routine. They're military, they have no problem adhering to the same set of regular actions - as well as reacting to sudden changes and giving immediate appropriate response. Honestly, they're pretty damn good as caretakers, once they get clear in structions on what needs to be done.

Price goes with you to doctor appointments and all the treatment you need outside home. He's driving you there, waiting at the door (maybe eavesdropping while he pretends to fall asleep in the uncomfortable chair with his chin tucked and his hat laying in his lap. maybe actually falling asleep and waking up with horrifying neck cracking), asking a hundred questions after the doctor lets you out - to the point where it starts to look more like an interrogation. He does want to know everything, though, since only with full information on hands he can assess the situation and work out a plan of action. He wants to know what's the status, what meds you need to take and for what, how often, what side effects are possible, what else needs to be done - he makes your doctor give him a full on lecture, even if you already explaind half of that to them all previously. After he gets what he wanted from the poor medic, he still pulls on some strings to get you seen by specialists he's confident in. Sure, your doc might've been treating you for god knows how long, but a second (a third and maybe even fourth) opinion won't hurt, right?

Ghost gets your (and everyone else's, because Price fucked up his joints and spine more times than it's acceptable, Gaz has allergies and Soap needs his adderall. Ghost himself takes half of the pharmacy's supply, poor guy's messed up in all kinds of way) meds and also makes sure you and the boys take them regularly, especially if they're the type to be taken strictly on time. He brings your morning pills to you in bed with water and a little sandwich if you need to take them not on empty stomach, and if he has to be out at the time you need them, he always sends you a reminder - and expects you to report to him quickly, otherwise he's calling you and then one of the guys that can come and make sure you're being good. If you're having a bad head day and can't make yourself take these fucking pills that can't even "fix" you (or whatever bad thoughts you're having), Simon's going extremely soft - he just sits next to you and feeds you one pill after another, kissing you for every one you swallow, and then does same with his stash, "demanding" rewarding kisses from you with an adorably serious face. He knows better than anyone how much needing to do this every damn day can fuck with your mind, so he's patient, but he can't let you neglect yourself.

(Soap gets no such treatment, if that little shit tries to wiggle his way out of taking his meds, they get shoved into his mouth. He still gets his rewarding kiss, though, with Ghost's steel grip on his jaw, and this honestly looks like Simon tries to kill him via sucking his internal organs out of his mouth. Mind end up sucking something else-)

Gaz is just steadily making everything he can as accomodating as possible. If your headaches make you sensitive to smells, he makes sure nothing in the house can cause a bad reaction, he watches everyone's allergies, buys groceries to fit your diet and makes sure other products like soap or cleaning supplies won't be bad to you. He's the one who will find non-constraining clothes out of fabric that won't irritate your body - very stylish and just how you lik them, he's looking into furniture and appliances that can make it easier to deal with if you're in pain or can't hold shit properly because of joint pain (not only for you, Price and Ghost both get days when their knuckles hurt LIKE HELL). He might've had experience caring for a relative, or maybe he's just extremely good at research, but he just comes up with solutions you didn't even know could help.

Soap is the service dog. He's ready to run any errand, pick up every task you give him, provide immediate help as soon as you call for him. He's cuddling you through flares, fetching blankets or tea, literally catching you if you suddenly get a horrible cramp and fold in half. This man will go to the bathroom with you and keep you steady while you throw up, or literally kneel on the tile floor and wipe your tears if you get really bad bowel problems. He's seen people get shredded into pieces and watched their internal organs become external, he won't be put off by anything a human body can do. None of them will, to be honest, but Soap is just always the first to hold your hand through whatever hell you're going through.

But the other thing Soap does - is make you feel normal. He's not tiptoeing around you, treating you like a fragile doll that can't be played with, no; he'll fucking prank you, tease you, rile you up and haunt you as long as it makes you smile and helps you forget about that thing that impacts you every day while other people get to live without it. He's your personal hospital clown, and honestly, if you need to go to hospital, he might actually sneak inside in a clown costume (how the fuck did no one see and stop a huge ass man with a honking red nose and rainbow onesie walking through the corridors?) and entertain you. His family never let him feel like he was different despite the obvious struggles he faced with his ADHD (that wasn't diagnosed straight away too and went unmedicated for quite some time), and he'd rather die than let you feel like you're missing out on all the fun life has to offer because some days you can't even leave your bed as your body acts out.

They watch your diet and find ways to make it as diverse as possible, no matter how limited it is. Gaz is the one who makes groceries lists and often goes shopping, but all four of them take turns cooking (a man's place is in the kitchen, even if it gets cramped with all four of these dudes there) and experimenting with food. Gaz is the best cook by far, and the second to best is surprisingly Soap! Price actually isn't all that inventive in the kitchen (he just knows what he likes and doesn't venture out much, but what he does he does well), and Ghost... his main culinary innovations are in the stupid smiley faces and skulls he makes out of everything. How did he manage that with soup? I dunno, ask him.

They know your patterns and habits, sometimes they can tell the illness will flare before even you do, from the subtle changes in your appearance or behaviour. Maybe you're sweating just a little too much today and Gaz saw the stains on your shirt while doing the laundry, or your heartrate is off under Ghost's sharp ear as he nestles into his favourite place in the world - your arms. Perhaps Price noticed you ate not enough of your breakfast or Soap grabs your hand and feels it's colder than should be.

First thing they do is check in with you - Ghost is extremely straightforward and demanding about it, making you recite what you did recently that could cause a flare and asking you all about how you're feeling; Soap slips into worry immediately and starts with a question what he can do for you. Gaz goes a sly route, tugging you away from whatever you were doing, snuggling with you on the bed or the couch and peppering you with kisses, purring into your ear sweet nothings mixed with questions until he coaxes all the information from you. Price doesn't even ask at first: he immediately goes into action, the most basic care provided before he even says anything.

They do listen to you, though. If you're not feeling the worst and don't need immediate help, they just stay around to watch after you, but always communicate to others that extra care might come in handy today. Probably still try to convince you to go easy with your tasks, be it studying, work or chores, and help with whatever they can.

However, if it is bad, you kinda lose autonomy. Work? Forget about it. Chores are on them for the next week, no exceptions. You're lifted off your feet and brought to bed by Soap, everything arranged into a comfortable way by Gaz by the time they carefully lower you there. If you need to sit up to lessen the symptoms, they put pillows behind your back, but Soap prefers when he can cradle you against his chest and serve as a heat pillow himself - especially if his hot hands can make tummy or joint pain better. But if heat is the thing you don't need at all, he'll stay next to you, ready to jump at your first word.

Meds and water in Ghost's hand, waiting for you to take them patiently. While Price takes care of your unfinished business (and makes sure you won't go to work/school/uni next few days), Gaz ensures your body is taken care of - maybe you need a gentle massage or just sweat and teares wiped off, he's there, cooing at you and kissing your skin gently.

If you need bathroom, you're getting carried there, but if it's just to throw up, Soap's already got a bucket at the ready, and he and Gaz will support your body through the nausea, another glass of water appearing with silent Ghost by the end of it.

You're getting all the entertainment you want: Gaz and Soap will only be happy if you want to play computer games with them (or, if you can't, you can just watch them, and they'll goof around to keep your mind off your state). You want to continue that book you're reading, but it's hard to hold it and your eyes hurt? No audiobooks while you have Price there, he'll read you aloud. A movie? Hell yeah they'll all gather around with whatever snacks you can digest at the moment and watch whatever you want (and if Ghost or Price fall asleep, you can prank them via Sergeants' proxy).

Some other little things:

They all either quit smoking or make sure it doesn't affect you even with the smell.

Price keeps on top of all your vaccines and screenings. Don't even need to remember them, he can wake up in the middle of the night and recite all of the needed information. Can get quite strict and controlling if you try to get out of appointments - and also spends almost unhealthy amount of time reseatching what else can be done, including trying all kinds of experimental treatments and some not even fully scientific ones (like acupuncture. who fucking knows, eh?)

Ghost is the best out of all of your men to confide in when the illness takes toll on your mental health. He knows what drowning in your mind feels like, and he'll be there to reach out a hand and keep you afloat. He's actually good with words on these topics, and his voice grounds you - but if you need silent companionship or a firm chest to sob into, he can provide that too.

Soap actually often gets angry about your condition - not at you, of course, but the sheer unfairness of his beloved person suffering with no end, no matter how much all four boys do for you, weighs on him. The others might have caught him actually crying in the middle of letting steam off in the gym, he hates being powerless against a fucking disease.

Gaz loves when you let him take care of your body and appearance. Be it simply helping you take a bath/shower, shaving if you want but can't manage, brushing your hair for you, massaging oils, lotions or ointments into your skin... if you feel self-conscious about your appearance on flare days, he will obviously reassure you with other boys (as if they wouldn't love you in any condition, for fuck's sake, they're here because you make them feel the happiest they've ever been, not because you look like a model 24/7), but if it will make you feel better, he'll help you with a nice hairdo that won't burden your scalp, dress you up prettily, helping you put on every clothing piece with reverent kisses along the way, and do your makeup if you do it. Will he join you in all that and get all pretty too? Hell yeah! Might even catch Soap and get him dolled up too.

And finally, you won't find more accommodating people for intimacy. Whatever your limits are, they're never crossing them, choosing positions you won't feel uncomfortable in, being careful not to overwhelm you, discussing everything you want to try in sex with possible complications in mind. They're fine not doing anything at all; they're fine with doing no penetration; they're fine with extensive foreplay... definitely using all kinds of devices to make the experience better for you. Potentially asking your doctor questions on what's okay and what's not, even if you're screaming not to, lol.

They just love you, and they're ready to take everything off your shoulders as soon as you need it.

Hope you feel better soon, lovie <3

[unhingedpolycule]

Haiii ! Love what you do and had two questions :

Do you think any of them would cry at the others burial (if they even want that ? Cremation ?)

And do you think one of them would wear glasses once they age a bit more ?

Thank you 🩵

Haiiiii! First of all, thank you for your ask! It made me think and it was a really cool concept to work with! You can find the (long) answer under the cut!

If the body is recovered from the warzone where they died, they would have a small service I think. Not because the other would particularly want or need it, but because the team would more or less insist and it is simply the social convention. It doesn’t really bother them either. That being said… they would not cry. Nikto would probably get pretty gruff, outwardly pretending that their relationship was not as deep as it actually was, so he isn’t too sad. Mostly because people keep giving him condolences. He does not like it, handling Sebastian‘s death is hard enough on its own. Krueger would just get… like very silent in my mind. Not directly pretending that it doesn’t bother him, but he would let his mask slip a bit. Instead of being detached on purpose, he just sits and reminiscence about Nikto and what he is missing right now. His voice, having someone to concentrate on and to care for as to make his life less eventless. He was Nikto’s caretaker and partner for years and he was used to being joint at the hip, always having an interesting and stimulating person around.

Both feel the urge to be alone. Krueger would go missing soon after, probably searching out Blaustein without telling him what is going on. Of course, Blaustein understands that something bad must have happened and he is smart enough to count two and two together. Krueger would find a new PMC, maybe he would even stay with Coalition (Blaustein’s faction) for a bit. But he is a wanderer at heart, so it wouldnt last longer than a year. Nikto was the only thing tying him to a specific faction, so he starts moving again, with regular visits to Hans though. As for Nikto… he would be pursued by Nikodim, who thinks that he is helping. Their relationship might very well break under that pressure, leaving Nikto much worse off, just because his stability and his support system is gone. He eventually rebuilds routine on his own, but before that, he would probably burn himself out in an attempt not to grief too much.

To make it short: Krueger would let himself feel what he feels, accepting it for what it is and seek the support that he might need. Nikto would very much do the opposite and repress in order to continue being functional, even if this ruins a lot of things for him. Both would be incredibly affected. I don’t know if they would actually cry. If they do, it comes over them in the middle of the night without any warning. They want to turn around to hug the other and they find themselves alone. For Krueger, it’s a few tears. Nikto is angry ugly crying, clutching the pillow and staring at noting.

Krueger keeps Nikto’s last pill bottle in his pack, using it for his own drugs. Nikto keeps Krueger’s net on his bedpost. Both store the other’s gear. Nikto in his room, Krueger with Blaustein, since Hans has a more steady lifestyle.

BUUUUUUUT since Krueger is an unkillable cockroach (derogatory) and Nikto is very capable and has a second pair of eyes attached to a man which would go to length to safe him… they are fine. Very fine. VERY FINE AND HAPPY. (I can’t do mcd unless it’s a “growing old” setting. I am weak.)

As for the glasses: very easy. Nikto is used to taking medication and having to subsidise for things his body is not able to do anymore (mostly because of his mental illness, but I also imagine him to have issues with mild erectile dysfunction/maintaining an erection if he is not actively having sex right in that moment.) so he would wear some cheap old man glasses. He has like three pairs, all various stages of scratched/disrepair.

Krueger on the other hand would not like it. At all. He has lived his life being able to do everything without aid, running into an active warzone without proper protection and coming out mostly unscathed. It would take some time until he could accept glasses properly. Not because of pride or of others seeing him like this, but because he has to admit that he is no longer fully “self-sufficient”. Especially because he has above average eyesight! Nikto would tease him a bit until he notices that Sebastian does not wear his glasses. They might have a gruff, short talk about it after Nikto sees Krueger holding his phone very far away from himself, squinting in annoyance while trying to read his messages. Krueger wears the damn thing after that. At home. Sometimes.

[meanbossart]

What's DU's thoughts about disability? I know you've said he sort of sees Astarion's vampirism as a disability which I find extremely interesting. does that color his opinions on other disabilities?

And, well, would he still stay with Astarion if something disabling (not just the vampirism) happened to him?

I know you've said DU is a sort of, "Til death do us part" type of man, but if their style of adventuring had to change drastically...

Regardless of the reason being wheelchair, prosthetic limb(s), blindness, deafness, multiple... How would he cope with such a change?

I would imagine there would be conflict, at least until they're both used to things and have trained together enough, with new solid ways and workarounds that let them continue their adventuring?

I've sent so many questions today, I apologize haha. I just love DU Drow! You do an amazing job of fleshing him out!

Shockingly, DU drow is fairly reasonable when it comes to this. He will harp on a person's clothes, appearance, cadence, and all kinds of other dumb things if he feels like being a prick, but physical disability is something he leaves alone. I've said before that he has an unexplainable soft spot for children and mothers, and I think this falls into a similar category as something he deems too uncouth to bring attention to.

His patience only goes as far as his understanding, though. He's the type of guy who respects people trying to adapt and overcome - but quickly loses patience if your needs go beyond what he deems "reasonable". His "pull yourself up by the bootstraps" attitude colors his outlook on many things, this included.

And as always, he's going to be far, far more understanding of someone he's close to. Meanwhile, If we're talking about someone he already has strong animosity towards, all bets are off.

Which connects nicely to the Astarion portion of this question. Yes, DU drow is a "Til death do us part" type, and if something happened to Astarion that reduced his capacity to be independent, or just had a big learning curve, DU drow would adapt in whatever means necessary to accommodate him - he'd be his eyes, ears, legs, whatever he needed, - In fact, he would be all too eager to slip into a caretaking role.

DU drow isn't malicious in the way he yearns to be depended upon by his significant other, but it is an on-going point of tension in their relationship that needs to be continually addressed. I think if Astarion became disabled, that process would take twice as long and be thrice as hard, as he would have to to learn to juggle this significant life-change while also keeping his partner from completely and finally reducing him to a damsel in distress full-time. Yes, DU drow would ruin his own life and more to accommodate a disabled, or otherwise in-need Astarion - and yet Astarion would probably be far more uncomfortable and unhappy with that arrangement than if he didn't do that.

Ideally, both in this hypothetical and otherwise, DU drow can learn to be more than just his lover's lover and balance a relationship where he's caring, helpful, but understanding of someone wanting to value their own independence and otherwise not be completely smothered in love 🤷‍♂️ but yes, it would be way harder to achieve it in this situation - though not impossible!

Thank you so much for the interesting question!

[yanderes-galore]

Yandere Lucifer who falls for a hell born reader who’s maybe a hell hound who works at the hotel for free as long as she’s helping; hcs please.

I don't watch Helluva Boss but I do have a vague understanding of Hellhounds in this universe so... I'll try my best :) Again I altered the idea a little bit but I hope you still like it.

Edit: The note is outdated as now I do watch Helluva Boss. It's good, ignore past me.

Yandere! Lucifer with Hellhound! Darling

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Unhealthy power dynamic, Manipulation, Degrading behavior (You're called a good girl due to being a Hound, idk if it counts), Possessive/Protective behavior, Delusional behavior, Clingy behavior, Possible kidnapping, Dubious relationship/companionship.

Alright, according to my research, Hellhounds are Hellborn who rank under Imps.

They are bottom of the ladder Demons who are used for labor, pets, or guards of some sort.

Hellborn are unable to be redeemed, as a result they don't typically bother with the Hotel.

However... Here's my idea.

You were originally some sort of nanny or guard for Charlie.

Either Lucifer or Lilith had appointed you, a Hellhound, to care for Charlie when they can't.

This resulted in you staying at the Hotel with Charlie.

The Hotel is a home to you, plus you care for Charlie and help in any way you can.

Lucifer's obsession wouldn't start until he visits the Hotel.

He knows about you, the Hellhound that was taken in because his daughter saw you and got so damn excited.

You had no home, so Charlie's parents allowed you in.

You were so nice with his little girl.

You were an adult female Hellhound who left the Gluttony Ring to find a job in the Pride Ring.

Upon being offered the job of guard and caretaker by Lucifer/Lilith, you take it gratefully.

Since then you'd been caring for Charlie, a loyal servant and guard dog.

The last time Lucifer saw you was when Lilith took Charlie.

Being the ever loyal hound you were, you followed them obediently and left Lucifer alone.

When Lucifer enters the Hotel, he is surprised to be greeted by you.

You're surprised to see him and smell his familiar scent, but you bow and lead him inside.

It... caused Lucifer to smile upon realizing someone does still care.

"There's no need for the bow, girl... we can be casual. Now, how's Charlie? Been treating her well?"

Lucifer wasn't expecting to be so happy when seeing you again.

Maybe it's the depression and the fact his wife left him.

For some reason... he feels a bit attached to you.

Even more so when he sees how loyal you are toward Charlie, often protecting her and receiving pats on your head.

It feels a bit strange for him... but he does think he's falling in love again in some way.

Lucifer probably just yearns for companionship of any kind.

Be that platonic love or romantic love.

You've always been such a big help for him and his family since they took you in.

I mean... you already parent Charlie more than him at times.

Lucifer is noticeably awkward when he tries to reconnect and speak with anyone in the Hotel.

However, he seems to talk fine with you for the most part, often asking about Charlie and how you've been throughout the years, you got your Hellbies shot, right?

Lucifer has trouble understanding his feelings towards you, he may even be a bit delusional.

Yet... he seems rather intent on getting closer to you since he entered the Hotel.

Now, here's where I'm just going to talk little HCs of Lucifer with a Hellhound! Darling.

He definitely would call you a "good girl".

That along with petting you or calling you into his lap.

Lucifer would give you a kiss on the forehead and often just likes holding you to feel your soft fur.

I imagine he's possessive of your attention at times due to feeling neglected by those he loves.

Lucifer may make you rubber duckies as gifts.

He's also asking about you with Charlie since he thinks out of anyone Charlie knows you best.

Definitely thinks you also love him just as much, even if you just see him as a master or some sort more than a partner.

If he's jealous or irritated with something, you calm him down by jumping in his lap and licking his face.

It shocks him for a moment, even if he knows that's just how Hellhounds show affection, but soon it just melts him.

I prefer a dubious pairing in this, but you can see him with a Hellhound darling in either way as you're a guard to Charlie.

He may also be protective since you're such a precious person to him.

With Lucifer... he plans to not make you feel like you're low on Hell's hierarchy.

You're not just a peasant to him.

You're his Hellhound, his good girl who has always been loyal...

Unlike others he's loved....

You aren't a pet to him, although some Hellhounds are often seen that way.

You're someone he sees as family of some kind, you make him and his daughter happy.

You always have...

Which is why he doesn't like the idea of letting you go.

You're loyal to Charlie but respect Lucifer.

Loyal to the point of never leaving the Hotel...

But... what if he ordered you to?

What if he asked Charlie to let him borrow you for company.

He promises you it's okay to part from Charlie for a bit.

He'll return you to the Hotel in due time (He won't).

Lucifer doesn't want to be alone again right now...

You'll be a good girl and listen to your master, yeah?

"The pets feel nice, don't they? There's my loyal girl... missed you so much...! Don't worry about Charlie, she's a big girl now. You've done your part. Just worry about me... alright? Don't need you to go back to the Hotel right now... just need you here with me!"

[kalki-tarot]

Unqiue details about the person on your mind.

This is a general reading and is not guaranteed to be 100% true.

Pick one emoji :)

🌿 🍂 🌻

Pile 01 🌿

They are someone who takes everything seriously, like they are an emotionally sensitive human being and they can't handle "jokes" that demean them or people who make fun of their insecurities.

They cry while watching sad romance movies. 😭

They don't like public attention, they can be an introverted person. Or they just like to keep their achievements to themselves. They don't like public eye because who knows someone may give you an evil eye. 🧿

As I've mentioned in the first point too, they are someone who gets hurt easily, they prefer to be inside their own shell as a mechanism to feel safe. People may have hurted this person a lot with words.

They may have a cold exterior but are definitely very cool on the inside.

They are filled with surprises, evertime you talk to them, you'll find a new thing about them.

They like philosophy, self help, psychology books. They self reflect a lot.

They are a keen observer of people and situations. They have great analytical skills. They know who's bs-ing with whom.

They come from a family/background where they have been emotionally neglected a lot. They don't have a "safe place". They try to understand and validate themselves through reading psychology and self help books.

No matter what, this person is someone very resilient and secure of who they are now.

They are a great humanitarian and they do charity work or they just help people around them financially or emotionally.

They are looking for their soulmate or partner with whom they can share a deep and secure connection with. They are looking for someone long term and are not interested in hook ups etc.

They are very giving in nature and do for others more than for themselves.

Pile 02 🍂

This person likes babies.

They also like slow music and folk music too. They may like listening to Kailash Kher so much.

Their favorite bird is Koyal, idk what you call it in English you can search it online.

They are a traditional person, they value their family and sanskaars.

This person may work with children, can be a pediatrician, child specialist, nanny, caretaker, nursery teacher etc.

This person is a little dramatic, it's like everyone likes them they don't care, but if that one person does not like them, they go mad.

Sorry to say this, but they are a little ungrateful about life.

This person also stays in their mind a lot, they may overthink and create fake scenarios. They can be addicted to being sad ?

They have this tendency to stay stuck in the past, they fear new things, places, people etc. It's hard for to get outside of their comfort zone.

They believe in true love, soulmates etc. And hope to find their own.

It's easy for them to get bored though.

Their past hasn't been the best, they still can't get over their fears and traumas :(

Pile 03 🌻

They like listening to hip hop songs especially the 2000s ones.

This person has a tendency to run away when they feel like things won't go their way.

They may suffer from anxiety or intrusive thoughts.

They may have drinking issues / alcohol abuse is what i see, they get aggressive after drinking.

They may have gambling addictions too.

This person is working hard to overcome these dark obsessions and addictions.

Their father figure had some problems (can be abusive) hence they and their mother suffered a lot in their childhood. Their addictions stem from here.

They may not really like talking about their past sm, it hurts them.

Surprisingly, the song "chupke chupke raat din" is playing and it translates into smth like "I remember crying silently/while hiding."

Very heavy past traumas and issues.

They may show everyone this cool and calm demeanor but from inside they are literally hurting and fighting with themselves. Omg, i feel so sad for this person :(

They may like listening to ghazals a lot.

Bangladesh & Nepal is significant.

They have seen relationships break and turn out worse in their childhood so now they run away or fear commitments and marriage.

Or it can also be that the person they once loved feared marriage or commitment and it made them fall deeper into addictions.

They see marriage as a cage.

This person has emotionally given up on a lot of things in life like career, emotions etc.

They neglect themselves sometimes.

[lefluoritesys]

A list of ways hosts can be hosts because a lot of systems stress about it a lot, including us:

Somebody who stays at front the most, AKA the general definition. You got somebody here who you see most often despite there being many people in the body.

Somebody who stays in the body as default. Nobody wants to front? We have a person right here.

Somebody who does school/daily tasks. Everybody else is there for backup and to fool around, and while they help out as much as they can, the host will be the person to do all the daily stuff needed to function.

Somebody who takes care of the physical body. While you have soothers and caretakers, a host can be somebody who is also a physical protector. There are systems in which alters literally cannot eat, bathe, or sometimes even walk on their own, which is when the host helps out.

Somebody who is best equipped to deal with that specific period of time. Whether the host will change when that period ends or not, there are hosts who become hosts temporarily, doesn't matter for how long. The amount of time can vary from a few days to a few years.

Somebody who manages the outside world. And no, that might not be the same as doing daily tasks and school. Whatever managing the outside world means is different for every system, and is always valid.

Somebody who's been stuck at front for an incredibly long time. Whether they are still stuck or unstuck, they can still be called hosts if they want to.

Somebody who stays being the host for sentimental reasons. Whether it be they spent a long time at front beforehand or something else, there are hosts who can stay being hosts for pure sentimentality.

Somebody who is best equipped to deal with the outside world. And again, no, that does not always mean the statements stated previously. Somebody who is best equipped to deal with the outside world may be anybody, depending ont he system's needs.

Somebody who chills at front and lets others take care of everything. Whether it be because the host is resting or not.

Somebody who wakes up in the body no matter who fell asleep in the same body before them. They might be the default, they might not be, but brain makes sure to make them switch in their sleep.

Somebody who the system decided is host, and who feels like a host. It doesn't matter how often they front, because hosts being more often than others in the body is outdated information, and a label not all systems have in the first place.

Continue the chain if you so desire.

(Note: This is not about the desire to be host or who they are as people. Hosts are still hosts if they want to be or don't want to be, whatever sexuality or race or nationality or personality, yes, however, this is all about functionality.)

-physical persecutor