#how many breads have you eaten?

[sailorsenshishitposter]

Dio Brando x Reader

Dio Brando

You forgive the most evil characters no matter how bad their deeds are and think you can fix them. You have a vampire kink and you prefer cats instead of dogs. There's also a 10% chance that you were that kid who would unironically yell "KONO DIO DA!" and think it was funny.

First Date

If he's human than you meet during school and bond over you're hatred of alcoholic father's whilst getting drunk on cronenburg Irish whiskey. You have a secret relationship because Dio is now fancy and can't be associated with a "loose" woman. His pullout game is strong (it has to be so he doesn't have an army of miniature Dario's running around) and you leave him once you find out that he's been sleeping with all the local prostitutes (men included).

If he's a vampire then he's kidnapped you for food. Don't expect to live as this isn't part 3 Dio. He got a mother to eat her baby and plays with mancats. At best he'll leave you to starve after asking you how many breads you've eaten in your entire life.

[gallade-x-treme]

but anyone who tries to hurt my friends.....

IS GONNA PAAAAAY

[stanmcstanistanstanding]

I would kill for some garlic bread

[mariamlovesyou]

bisan's live video on her 2nd acc is piercing my heart

she started off expressing (in arabic) how sick she is of the constant sharing, photographing, capturing, having to speak english and how she wants to speak in her native tongue instead.

she explained that the leaflets that were dropped again are ordering evacuation to rafah so they are forced into the sinai, and how impossible it is for over 2 million people to go to an area that's only 151 square km, so many have no choice but to stay in khan younis. they are trapped and have no international passports. rafah is the southernmost point of palestine after khan younis and she said - this part in english - "after rafah there is no more palestine. if we are forced into rafah there is no more palestine."

someone asked her if she has eaten and whether they have any food, her response was no, not at all; one loaf of bread has to be divided between everyone in her tent.

the video kept freezing because of how bad the internet service is in gaza right now so i lost bits and pieces, but at some point an older woman joined the live, a journalist outside of the country. it's unclear whether they knew each other previously, but a lot of warmth was exchanged. the woman got tears out of bisan when she told her "dont listen to people who tell you to be strong, i don't want you to be strong, i want you to be you. if you are sad i want to know, if you are happy i want to know." she explained that she tried entering rafah but the occupation refuses to let any foreign journalists in anymore.

after the woman left, bisan talked about her life before october. she said her life was beautiful and fruitful and any source of strife was solely on israeli hands; namely her inability to travel or pursue placements for her education outside of palestine. other than that she had nothing to complain about. if im able to watch the video after it ends, i will add any pieces i missed

[darknight3904]

It Burns For You

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɢʀᴏᴡ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴘɪᴛᴏʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇꜱ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ɴᴏɴᴇ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ. ᴏᴏᴄ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ, ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜᴇᴇʟꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ. ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ!

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

Coriolanus is 12 when he sees you for the first time. Your red uniform is pressed perfectly and your school bag looks brand new. Your lunch consisted of a hearty-looking sandwich with roast beef and lettuce and a container of fresh fruit that had his mouth-watering.

"Do you want a piece? Our maid always packs too much and I can never finish it. You can have some if you want." Your voice fills his ears

A delicate-looking hand is holding a juicy-looking strawberry in front of him. He reaches for it and it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to shove it in his mouth. Instead, he takes a small bite and thanks you for sharing.

"Don't you have a lunch today?" You ask

He doesn't. The school had said they would start supplying the students with lunches soon but how soon? Coriolanus had already been attending for a number of years and still nothing.

"I already ate it." He lied

"You're still hungry though. You can have the rest." You say with a smile as you push your fruit bowl to him.

"Is it your first day?" He asks

"Yes, my mother thought that my governess wasn't doing a good job so she had my father enroll me here. I miss being at home with my new kitten though. She has long white hair and she is the cutest thing in the whole world." You said

Coriolanus can't believe that you had your own governess, let alone a pet to call your own. He later learns from Arachne that your father became incredibly rich by manufacturing weaponry for the Capitol. Despite your inherent wealth, you've never flashed it around him.

You and Coriolanus are 15 when you discover all the lies he tells at school about his family. He had left his uniform jacket behind on his chair and you got his home address from Sejanus, meaning to give it back so he'd have it for tomorrow. Instead, you had discovered the Snow's decrepit-looking building and barely functioning penthouse. Coriolanus' heart nearly stops when he emerges from his room to see you and his Grandma'am sitting together as she compliments your shoes.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, ready for your judgment and teasing words

"I wanted to return your jacket, Coryo. You'll need it for tomorrow."

The red of the jacket in your arms matches his face as he ushers you to the door, trying to hide the fact that Tigris was preparing cabbage in the kitchen that would undoubtedly stink the entire place up with the scent of the Snow's poverty.

"Stop rushing me, your cousin invited me to stay for dinner." You say trying to stop the way he is leading you to the door.

"You don't want what she is making. Tigris is a terrible cook." He said

Tigris lets out a shout of disagreement from the stove and Coriolanus ignores it.

"How about, I go out and get something to add to the meal Tigris is cooking, and by the time I get back you change your attitude about me staying for dinner Coryo. "

And with that, you walk out the door and slam it in his face. He's rather stunned at your declaration but knows you're serious. He rushes around their home, trying to clean up what he can while Tigris laughs at his frantic motions. Then, just as he was debating whether or not he wanted to change out of his uniform, you return from your short trip to the closest market.

"I wasn't sure what Tigris is cooking so I got a couple of things." You say placing the bags on the table.

Coriolanus is sure you spent a fortune on what is in these bags. Fresh bread accompanied by a sickly sweet fruit spread and a block of butter sits in one while the other holds something else in a brown box. You take your seat next to him at the ugly little table he has eaten too many meals at and cut a piece of the bread for Grandma'am. He is worried when Tigris starts portioning out the cabbage she cooked on the stove. Coriolanus watches your expression as you take a bite but nothing that he expected happens. You don't knit your brows in disgust or get up to leave and take your fresh bread and mysterious box with you. Instead, you go back for a second bite and compliment what Tigris has done with the food.

He sits stiffly next to you and can barely accept the slice of bread you offer him. You excuse yourself to use the bathroom and Tigris reaches across the table and pinches his shoulder.

"Stop sitting like that, Coryo!" She scolds

"Like what?" He asks,aware that Tigris meant how oddly straight his back was.

"You're making her uncomfortable. You've been friends with her for years she isn't worried about what our home looks like." Tigris says

"She might not be but what happens when she goes to school tomorrow and talks?" He asks

He shuts up when he hears the sound of the bathroom door opening again.

"That was lovely Tigris. I've never had anything like it, I'll have to invite you all to my own home for dinner sometime. Our cook makes these pastries that are simply wonderful. They even get sold at local markets, which leads to this..."

His eyes widen when you finally unveil what was hiding in that second bag. A dozen expensive looking deserts sit in the brown box you brought, each one decorated differently.

"I hope I picked something everyone would like. I know Coryo mentioned that Grandma'am liked chocolate so I picked this one just for her."

Coriolanus feels a wide smile stretch across his face as you pass out your little desserts. His worries about you gossiping to their peers fade from view as he bites into what he thinks is a croissant. You laugh at his reaction and toss a napkin at his face which is most likely covered in the gooey fruit filling that was in his pastry.

He walks you back to your home that night and thanks you for making his night. He can't remember the last time Grandma'am had smiled from eating chocolate. You accept his thanks and gently tell him that he shouldn't be ashamed about his financial situation. He never gets to disagree with you though because a soft kiss is pressed to his lips followed by a rushed,

"Goodnight, Coryo! Thanks for the cabbage!"

He walks back to his own home with a jump in his step. Thoughts of you consume him as he smiles to himself, proud his first kiss was shared with you. He feels his heart burn with something that felt like it was going to come up and out his mouth as he finally made it back to his room, you officially had him wrapped around your finger.

Your room is flooded with sunlight the first time Coriolanus sees it. A soft, silky-looking bed spread sits atop one of the biggest beds he has seen as you beckon to your cat, Maisy to come and say hello to him. He looks at the oversized wooden dresser that sits against one wall. He sees the photograph of him and you that was taken a few weeks ago at your 17th birthday party nestled among little knickknacks. Books Coriolanus has never even heard of line your shelves as he you place a record on the player that sits on your desk. Soft sounds of a piano and the words from an unnamed singer fill your gorgeous room as he turns to you.

"Do you want to dance?" He finds himself asking

You accept and he leads you or well tries to. You're rather stiff and it turns out dancing is harder than it looks because he isn't any good at it either. You laugh as he trips over his feet and end up falling with him, landing on the ground entangled in each other. Your fingers brush his curls from his eyes as his nose brushes yours.

"What're you doing?" You ask quietly

"Nothing." He responds, his eyes flicking to your lips.

The moment his lips touch yours, a tingle shoots down his spine. This is a real kiss, not what you gave him when you were both 15. He cups your face and your hands are tangled in his hair as he deepens it. He felt his head spin as you moved against him, almost as if you wanted him to swallow you whole right here on your bedroom floor. A giddy feeling swelled in his chest when he pulled away for air.

"Coryo...what was that?" You ask

"I thought you'd know by now. That was a kiss, darling." He laughed brushing his thumb across your lip

"I know that...but why'd you give me one?" You ask

"Don't you know?" He smiles and places a chaste kiss on your lips "My heart, it burns for you, it always has."

Part 2 is out now!

Series Masterlist

[enderlovez]

A Little Timid

Spencer Reid x Shy Female Reader WORD COUNT: 1100+

Summary: You bring Spencer something for dinner during a particularly stressful case. One thing, though—nobody else knows you exist.

Content Warning: Spencer is overworking himself and forgetting to eat, reader has a sister and a niece/nephew (not specified), pet names

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

You and Spencer have been dating for nearly three years, and throughout that time he's visited your workplace more times than you can count. Usually to spend your lunch breaks with you, sometimes just so he can sit and be in your company as you work.

Which your boss is completely fine with, for some reason unknown to you.

Oftentimes you find yourself wishing you could do the same for him, on the nights where he doesn't come home until stupidly late, but every time you bring up maybe bringing him lunch on your days off, he shoots you down entirely. Like a bird out of the sky, or some other stupid simile you can't be bothered trying to come up with.

It's quite different for him, being a federal agent and such, working with sensitive subjects and often in harsh environments, so you suppose it does make sense that he would want to keep you away from all that. Still, you can't help but feel a little hurt and slightly embarrassed every time he denies your requests.

And yet...

"You sound tired," you comment softly, stirring the pot of chicken soup in front of you.

"Mhm."

"Have you eaten anything yet?"

There's no response, which is answer enough for you.

"Lovey, you need to eat," you say with a sigh, putting down the spoon you were stirring with and lean back against the counter beside the stove.

"I know," he mumbles quietly.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes turned down to the ground. "I'm making chicken soup, I could bring you some for dinner, if you'd like?" you suggest weakly. "And some of the bread I finished making earlier. You know, I could sit with you for a while."

Before he's even responded, you're bracing yourself for rejection.

"That would be nice," he sighs.

Immediately, the tension in your body melts away, a tiny smile making its way onto your face.

"You want me to bring one of those cinnamon rolls you like, too?"

"Yes please..." His voice is so quiet, you're sure he's practically falling asleep at his desk.

"Okay, I'll be there in ten minutes."

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

Spencer doesn't really think about much when he hangs up the phone. Only that he's really hungry right now, and that he really likes your chicken soup.

The fact that his coworkers don't even know you exist doesn't cross his mind once. Only when you're actually walking into the bullpen, does he realize he should've given them a bit of a heads up, because everyone is looking at you now.

No horrible looks, of course, they're only curious of who you are and why you're here, but you've never particularly liked people looking at you. It makes you feel all anxious and jittery.

Your eyes quickly scan the room (definitely taking note of all the people watching you) and when you finally find your target, a small smile makes it onto your face, despite the discomfort.

He pulls another chair over to his desk as you make your way over, walking just a little faster usual, and place one of those reusable supermarket bags in front of him.

"Hey there," you murmur, bringing his hand to your face so you can press a soft kiss to the back of it. This time, he doesn't even mention how many stupid pathogens can be passed through your hands.

"Beautiful girl," is all he says, quiet and uncharacteristically drowsy, as he reaches into the bag and pulls everything out. Two perfectly warm thermoses, a brown paper bag with some of your fresh bread inside, and two saran-wrapped cinnamon rolls that you've already heated.

You chuckle softly, taking your share of the food and offering him a hunk of warm bread.

Spencer bites off a chunk of the bread and really takes a look at you, now that you're distracted with your own soup. You're wearing a baby pink milkmaid dress, the same one you wore to your sisters baby shower last year, and a white cardigan with little flowers embroidered all over it.

He gifted you the plain cardigan, you were the one who added all the flowers and personal touches.

"I really appreciate this," he hums, finally opening the thermos of soup and spooning some of it into his mouth with one of the metal utensils you brought with you.

"I'm always happy to bring you food when you need it, lovey. Even when you don't necessarily need it, I'll come running," you say in a low voice, sipping your own soup straight from the thermos. "I wish you'd let me do it more. Even when you're not starving and sleep deprived."

He chuckles at the playful lilt in your voice, but knows you're actually being completely serious. "Maybe we can make this a more regular. On the nights I can't be at home—"

"And who might this be?" someone asks, appearing suddenly enough for you to jump a little.

You turn your head the smallest fraction to find another man leaning against Spencer's desk, a (seemingly permanent) smirk breaking through the tired, clouded expression everyone here is sporting.

"Uhm—hi—erm..."

You glance over at Spencer, who is, for the most part, paying no attention to the encounter, simply sipping on his soup and gnawing on his bread like he hasn't eaten in weeks.

"I'm Y/N," you manage, in a voice soft enough to bring serial killers to their knees (now there's an idea), wiping your hands on the fabric covering your thighs and sticking one of them out.

The man hums, eyes flicking between yourself and the man seated beside you. "I don't think Spencer's ever mentioned you before."

Your smile falters slightly, but doesn't disappear completely. "I'm his girlfriend," you say, "and I never really expected him to talk about me here. He said he wouldn't, anyway."

"Girlfriend?" he asks, as if it's the craziest thing he's ever heard. "You. Are Spencer's girlfriend? Spencer has a girlfriend?"

That seems to grab the aforementioned mans attention.

"Morgan. Is it really so hard to comprehend," he asks, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close—as close as he can, with the chairs in the way, "that I could find a beautiful woman to love me?"

Ah. Derek Morgan, that explains it.

"You know that's not what I mean," Morgan argues, the smile not leaving his face. "And now, if you don't mind, I'll be around. Telling everyone. That you've got a gorgeous girlfriend, and kept it from us."

Neither of you have a chance to argue before he's gone. You're honestly surprised he didn't ask exactly how long it's been, but you're sure he wouldn't have liked the answer, so you don't push it.

"...this is great soup, by the way. I love you."

You chuckle, red coloring your face. "Thanks. I love you, too, baby."

[genderqueerdykes]

had the consult for my gallbladder surgery. the doctor told me i need to "lose 10 - 15 pounds" before they'll perform the surgery on me, and that I would need to wait 2 - 3 months before they would schedule it. i told her i have PCOS which makes it difficult to lose weight. she told me that does happen, and offered to refer me to a bariatric surgeon who is used to bigger bodies who could perform the gallbladder removal instead. i asked her for the referral to them instead

i was very angry at her for this, as 10 - 15 pounds do not make any difference when you are 300 lbs. my weight fluctuates between 280 - 340 lbs depending greatly on what i've eaten, how much i exercise, and so on. this will also vary greatly depending on if the stone is blocking my gallbladder completely or partially- if it's fully blocking the neck of my gallbladder, i cannot get enough digestive juices into my stomach to properly digest my food, so i will begin violently vomiting to get the undigested food out, and to get bile flowing into my stomach again. i begin to lose tons of weight when this happens, and i put it back on during the periods where i can get enough bile in my stomach to properly digest my food.

i can't digest my food properly. eating "healthier" will not change this- i can't digest food at all, period. healthy or unhealthy, i can't digest anything, because a good half of my digestive juices are completely missing from my guts. there is a functional issue with the way my guts work, of course i will lose weight drastically and put it back on at times. of course the issues will be episodic.

both her and the student that was working with me kept assuming that i said that my pain got worse after "high fat" meals. both of them put this in my mouth-

the student did it first. she asked when the pain gets worse and i said sporadically, but sometimes after i eat. she literally asked me "so you said it gets worse after fatty meals, right?"

i got frustrated and said "no, it's really random." i didn't get to tell her that raw leafy vegetables and lightly steamed or cooked vegetables make me vomit. broccoli and cauliflower that aren't heavily cooked, salads, raw vegetables, lightly cooked carrots, applesauce and apples in general are all problem foods.

the doctor then came in and said "it gets worse after high fat meals, right? you said that" and i went, again, "no it just kinda happens."

i don't even eat a high fat diet. i cook at home now for every meal now that i have all the tools i need to do so. i make rice, fish, pasta, and certain vegetables that i can digest like potatoes, sweet potatoes, onions, mushrooms, and so on. i eat bread, seeds, nuts, dried fruits, and drink oatmilk. i don't eat land meats, eggs, or dairy. i don't have any of those things. i do eat french fries and fish sticks, but not for every single meal. i don't eat chips because they're too salty and irritate my stomach. i don't eat candy or sweets unless the food bank delivers them to me. i don't eat much sugar other than pancakes and certain fruits

she wouldn't listen to me and went "well when you eat fatty meals, your gallbladder has to contract more and it can cause you a lot of pain." you would not believe how many times she came back to "you need to eat a lower fat diet." "the pain gets worse after you eat a high fat meal, so eat lower fat meals and your pain will go down." "just eat a lower fat diet and it'll help."

i just kind of sighed. there were tears in my eyes. i felt defeated. they made a bunch of assumptions just because i was sitting there, being fat. i was wearing long sleeves due to it being cold and they didn't get to see that i have a lot of muscle in my body mass. quite a lot. i wanted to tell them that i'm on testosterone and physically active when and where possible, and that i frequently lift heavy objects and move, but i never got a chance. i wanted to tell them my BMI isn't what they think it is, but i just didn't bother to try

i despise that people assume that fat people are fat because they eat "unhealthy" foods. i ate high fat foods for a few months while i was homeless because i didn't have the resources to cook every single meal. it affected my liver, i'm dealing with some fatty liver. but my gallbladder has more important issues in the form of the literal stone inside. she would not stop pushing for me to eat lower fat meals. all because i was sitting there, existing, as a fat person. i wish i would've told her i can only eat fish and plant matter

i don't understand how a patient telling you they're vomiting and can't keep down certain foods does not sound like a more pressing issue than an arbitrary number. weight as a number means nothing, it tells you nothing about that person's actual body composition. i have trauma with vomiting and yet i'm going to have to keep doing it anyway despite the fact that it could kill me via dehydration or if i just. can't stop

either way i'm very unhappy with result as i already waited for a month for this consult. now i have to wait for a referral for another surgeon to go through, and to do the consult with them, too. all while being in pain and having GI issues the entire time. just because a surgeon doesn't want to take the time to learn how to operate on fat bodies. i'm tired. what a joke

[overwhelmed-overweight]

Alright, can we take a second to clarify what a binge is?

As someone with BED I'm so sick of seeing "oopsie doopsie I'm so fat, I binged on 3 slices of bread uwu" because it diminishes the struggles of people who ACTUALLY deal with binge-eating. And yes, I'm 100% gatekeeping, this shit is getting so out of hand.

Let's look at the definition of a binge:

Notice the keyword in all of these definitions: EXCESSIVE

A binge is not

Eating a normal sized meal and regretting it

Going past your calorie limit for the day

Just eating quickly

Eating until you're full (or just a little past)

"Oh nooo, I had 2 apples in 1 sitting, I binged so hard 🥺👉👈"

It's really fucking damaging to a lot of people when you try to make binge-eating look dainty and quirky.

I have functional control over my binges now so they are nowhere as bad as they used to be, but they were horrifying in the past. My binges entailed panic and a total lack of control. I've been in the midst of a panic attack while stuffing my face more than once. I've had many blackout binges in my life where I can't even recall having binged, but the evidence is all right in front of me. I've woken up with a bruised stomach lining, making it excruciating to even sit up for days. I've gotten lightheaded from eating so much and so fast that I'm not taking enough time to breathe. I've thrown up blood, bile, and acid after binges before. I've eaten so much that I've had to throw up, not in a purging way, but because the food physically isn't fitting in my fucking stomach. I'm so lucky I never ruptured my stomach, I honestly don't know how I didnt. But despite everything, no matter what, I would be right back to eating in as little as an hour. It's a vicious fucking cycle.

It's. not. fucking. cute.

You will KNOW when you have binged. Sure, it can look very different for different people, but the fact remains that there is a MASSIVE fucking difference between an actual binge and just eating a lot. Binges are often the result of an emotional AND physiological impulse, not just emotional eating.

Please just be more considerate with your wording the next time you go to tell everyone that your life is over because you ate a fucking granola bar.

[morgue-friends]

happy new year!!!

would you be able to write a part two of maidens token where the reader attempts an escape and arrives at her village to see count or lol and her slaughtered village people

"A Maiden's Darkness" | Count Orlok x Female! Reader

Warnings: 18+, Count Orlok is his own warning, reader definitely has stock holm syndrome, death is mentioned, minor side character death, gore, sexual tension, dub-con, blood kink, marking, possessiveness, angst, hair pulling, penis in vagina sex, oral sex (M receiving), rough sex, you can't fix him so don't try sorry.

"If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness -" Your head hung low in shame, you were ailing with guilt and remorse. You had submitted to death, not once but twice. If there was a god, he'd never forgive the sins you've committed. No matter how many verses of the holy Bible you recited, there would be no salvation for you. You were tempted by the devil, and you conceded, you willed it.

Last night after he had left you, spared you even, to feed from the village and hide before the sun could rise he had unexpectedly returned to you instead. When he arrived you were still lying on the bed draped over with the blood-stained blanket and tears falling from your eyes. You looked over at him and gasped, his claws and mouth dripped with a deep red hue that foretold acts of violence. That same red color followed along the fur of his attire and led you to believe there had been more than one victim with the sheer amount. The stench of iron flooded your nose and you gagged, if you had eaten more than bread that night you probably would have heaved it all up on the bed below you.

Your stomach turned when the thought crossed your mind that it could be the blood of a child he was drenched in. It was revolting, disgusting, and still when he approached the bed you spread your legs for him like an eager whore. He disrobed and you two embraced each other that night once more, you submitted to death once more. The silver locket necklace he had stolen from you dropped to the floor along with his garments. You could remember vividly the way you laid there for him compliantly, moaning and mewling amongst the sounds of his skin against yours. Your thighs were held apart with each of his hands while his hips pounded you downward into the mattress. After he was satisfied he abandoned you once more, retreating to wherever it is he'd go during the day.

The sun sat high and bright in the sky and yet you could still feel his cold hands ghosting over your skin. Here you were now, sitting solemn and praying to a god that would never help you. If your mother were to see you right now she'd shake her head and tell you that you had gotten yourself into this situation and needed to get yourself out. So that's just what you'd do, the longer you stayed here the more you felt like you were losing your mind. His shadow was consuming your innocence and maybe even your soul. He may not have been manipulating you but it didn't feel reasonable for your body to respond the way it did to his. He carried a stench of death everywhere he went and when disrobed looked even more like a corpse than what you expected him to.

After getting dressed and eating the fresh apples he left you on the dining table for breakfast, you began plotting. If you weren't going to plot your escape from the castle then your mind would wander and think only of him, as if you were obsessed. To be fair all you've done these past two weeks is think of him. Where would he go after he fed from you? What was his first name? Why did he avoid coming out during the day? There were a hundred other questions you could ask yourself but you wouldn't get an answer to any of them. Anything he told you about himself was very vague or probably not even true.

You wasted an hour of daytime stumbling around the castle looking for anything that may help you with getting out, but every room was empty of usefulness and filled with standard furniture covered with cobwebs and dust. Weirdly enough you found the baggage that you had brought with you along with your paint supplies hidden behind a tall wooden cabinet. Why he hid your items was beyond you, but the clean dress, undergarments, and shoes were appreciated. You then returned to your bucket of drinking water and tried your hardest to wash off the thick layers of dried blood so they wouldn't soil your new clean dress. When he fed from you he was messy, often rubbing his face into your chest and smearing it around which made you feel repulsive. There were no mirrors anywhere in the castle so you weren't aware of how good of a job you did but it would have to do.

The heavy metal door of the castle opened slowly and flakes of snow began to nest on your shivering frame. The blood loss would make you more susceptible to dying from the cold but it seemed to be a better way out than succumbing to the darkness under the thumb of your captor. The hounds that seemed to accompany him everywhere slowly congregated around you while you trudged through the snow up to the gated entrance. As you exited none of the dogs attacked you, they just panted and stared at you in silence, there was no barking or growling to try to scare you back into the castle.

Nonetheless, their silence and unwillingness to follow you out felt like a bad omen. Like they were quietly telling you that if you leave this castle he will kill you. You weren't sure how far the village he fed from was but there was a glimmer of hope in your mind that you'd make it there and depart by sundown. The snow made your journey take agonizingly longer than expected, every crunch of snow under your heeled boots only seemed to make your travels much slower.

The clacking sound of a horse's heels through the snow caught your attention and you followed the noise closely. There were two women sitting on the horse, you had met them both when you briefly passed by the village on your way to the castle. This was your chance, you had your doubts about your escape and survival chances but seeing them again gave you hope. You ran up to the slowly trotting horse and the steed stood up on it's two legs and cried out as if you had spooked it. "Stop! Stop I say!" The woman towards the head of the horse ran her hands over its face and that seemed to calm the animal but it still eyed you with unease.

"She has the smell of death on her." Before you could ask for help a feeling of anger washed over you. These two women knew you were heading to that castle two weeks ago and didn't even bother to tell you what you were getting yourself into. "She is probably a vengeful spirit, the vampyre does not keep his whores for this long." The older woman made the sign of the cross with her fingers as if she was blessing herself for just seeing you and the two continued off on their horse finishing their conversation in Romanian. You'd cry but these past few days have absolved you of all the tears you had left to release.

Disgust. Disgust was what you felt about yourself, the Count, the castle, the villagers just everything. The sun began to set and your heart sank in your chest, a part of you wanted to keep walking until you arrived at the village and found somewhere vacant to hide. While another part of you wanted you to turn around and walk back to the castle, sit at that dining table, and greet your lover with a smile. After contemplating what to do you let out a scream of frustration and continued toward the village. If the horse was walking slowly in this area that meant that they had to be close to their home.

The sun had officially set by the time you arrived in the center of the village. There were houses and homes around you, all with drawn curtains but you could see the glow of candles inside which let you know everyone was inside their homes and they'd most likely never open the door to what they thought was a 'vengeful spirit'. Each door was covered in garlic and a variety of crosses and bible pages. The more homes you past the darker the sky became and you had this frightening feeling that death would soon be coming for you, that it was already searching for you and knew you had gone missing.

On the far end of the village was what you believed to be a church, there were no candles inside and the windows were not covered by curtains. You turned the knob and the door opened with a creak and revealed a room full of chairs, benches books, and whatever else the moonlight decided to show you. After closing the door behind you and taking a few steps forward you almost slipped on something somewhat sticky and overtly soft on the floor. You couldn't see very well what you were stepping on but the stench of death gave you a vivid impression. That had to have been pieces of an animal or a human even, as the familiar scent of true death you had become accustomed to was far too unique to be this.

That devil - your devil, had the stench of death but mixed with something far more abnormally comforting. It reminded you of your childhood days when you'd play alone in the small damp cave that resided behind your home back in America. The smell of that cave, the smell of pinecones in a forest, and pure decay were the smells you identified him by. Suddenly several books fell off of the shelf behind you and you almost fled until you saw the cause of the loud mess. "Oh dear god in heaven." Right before you was a man sitting in the darkest corner of the church.

He had to be at least a few years older than you, once your eyes had become adjusted to the darkness you could see him somewhat better. "You're still alive?" His Romanian accent was thick but at least he spoke English to you, the surprise in his tone sent you reeling. "No thanks to you or anyone else in this damned village, you're all SICK! Sick for letting me journey to that monster." And at last, the tears you believed to be depleted soon fell from your eyes. You had every right to be upset, to feel as though you were betrayed. "Iartă-mă, forgive me, I will explain but did he release you?"

"Explain first and I'll tell you." You were stern enough to get the point across that you weren't letting up. The man's expression harshened a bit before it relaxed. He grabbed what looked to be a bottle of gin off of the pedestal next to him and took a swig before looking up at you. "My name is Mihai, I asked to be here to protect the others, the vampyre will feed off me-" It all began to make sense, he was a willing sacrificial lamb which was why the church seemed to be so unprotected, and dark. You felt a pang in your stomach remembering that this was supposed to be a holy church. Consecrated ground that would protect against all evil and yet evil still invaded like a sickening plague.

"- Feeding it is better than letting it feed itself, yes or no?" You declined to answer that question as you put your back against the wall and dropped to sit on the floor. Feeling like an idiot you let your head hit the hard surface behind you, looking up at the unlit chandelier dangling from the ceiling. That's why the dogs let you leave this morning and why you were seemingly able to find your baggage. He knew there would be nowhere for you to go, the villagers too succumbed to his darkness and would never assist you. The one structure in the entire village you could enter freely and it was his feeding ground.

He wanted you here, wanted you to see that this was the kind of power he had over others and it was making you nauseatingly sick. You stumbled to your feet and turned to look at Mihai who was currently downing his bottle of gin again, he had no idea of the fate that awaited him. The Count would draw out his death and turn what was supposed to be quick feeding into a lesson for you to learn. If you had never left the castle this man would never endure the torture that lay ahead of him.

"Mihai I'm sor-" The flickering of candles interrupted you. The crucifixes that were placed upon the walls slowly turned upside down and the Mother Mary statue you were standing next to began to bleed from its eyes. "He is coming." As you said the words your hands began to tremble and shake. Even without the dramatic display of power, the rise of goosebumps on your skin and the tremble of your frame told you how his shadow drew near. The door of the church opened up with a slam as snow flurries began to enter the church with the gust of wind.

The flurries landed on the floor sticking to the bloodstained wood, there were small clumps of whoever he had decided to feast on the night prior now illuminated by the candles. Your eye twitched miserably as that had been what you almost slipped on earlier. Suddenly at the frame of the door, a tall imposing figure with glowing white eyes appeared, its eyes were directed at you solely and neglected the presence of Mihai. As he stepped into the church your gaze averted to the floor, you didn't have to look at him to see his disappointment.

His stare carried nonexistent daggers that pierced their way through your body and soul. His deep ragged breathing echoed through the room and silenced all other noises the further he walked in. The door slammed itself behind him and it made your heart leap a small yelp escaped your mouth. You kept your gaze on the floor and he closed the distance between the two of you to the point where all you could see was the fur of his cape below in your vision. A clawed hand shot up and grabbed the lower half of your face and forced you to look up at him as he towered over you. "You will watch and if you dare look away then it will be you instead."

"Yes, my Lord." You answered mindlessly, knowing that your life at the moment was being held teetering on the edge of a dangerous cliff, and any foolish movement would send you tumbling downward. In your situation, that dangerous cliff happened to be your lover. He didn't release his hold on your face while his dark eyes stared intensely into yours, the gaze was so intense your eyes strained from the lack of blinking. You feared that if you took the chance to blink he'd snap your neck then and there for disobeying further. Thankfully his gaze was averted when Mihai purposely dropped his now empty glass bottle onto the planked floor of the church.

You took that much-needed blink and his hand was no longer painfully cupping your face but he now had it around the neck of the villager. Mihai's face became a deep purple as he was lifted against the wall, and as soon as his chest became eye level with the harbinger of death, his heart was latched onto and he began to be drained. Watching this happen before you showed you how much this creature held back when he'd feed from you. The way he siphoned blood from Mihai was nothing like what he'd do to you.

Him being a messy eater wasn't news to you but the sure brutality of the pressure he exerted against the man's ribs was so excessive you heard a sickening crunching noise as it sounded like they had fractured under duress. It was pure savagery displayed in front of you but you didn't dare look away. You watched as he had instructed you to while the life dissipated from Mihai's eyes. The blood from the villager's body flowed so much that it began to speckle the floor below them. When the body of the sacrifice finally dropped to the floor of the church and what now looked like a rabid beast corrected his posture and turned in your direction, you knew it was your turn.

"What kind of host would I be if I didn't indulge my guest in a little- how do you say it in English? Entertainment." Your face twisted in disgust at his mockery, you liked it better when he barely spoke to you. The more conversations the two of you had the more you realized he had a sadistic sense of humor. "Did you enjoy your trip today? I hope you found whatever it is you were searching for." As he took one step forward you took two steps back, not wanting to deal with whatever wrath or 'mercy' he wanted to give you.

The blood continued to drip from his mouth and your thighs involuntarily trembled. You mouthed a 'no' as you realized what was going on with you. For your body to react like this at such a scene brought back those feelings of guilt and shame you had this morning. You'd make the false accusation that he was manipulating you into this but both of you would know that was a complete lie.

His bloodied hand grabbed a hold of your hair and brought you to your knees. "If you were to kill me right now I would not need to blame you as I have disobeyed! I don't deserve your forgiveness but I will still ask for it." His grip on your hair painfully tightened and there was only a little bit more pressure needed before he'd be ripping the strands straight from your scalp. "You leave my castle, fraternize with a human man, and ask for my forgiveness?!"

His booming voice reverberated off the walls of the church and made the flames of the candles dance violently upon the wax sticks they sat on making you feel much smaller than you were and as you sunk into yourself like a scolded child. His furred cape flared in front of you angrily as he turned and walked away from you. This man was livid with rage before you and it only made you fear him more, you pondered why you even thought it was a good idea to flee the castle, to begin with.

"I'm sorry my Lord!" Before you could stand up to continue to beg for forgiveness and your life, a clawed finger pointed downward at the floor indicating for you to stay down at the level you were. "You will crawl to me..." You didn't need to be told twice by him so you put your hands on the cold wooden floor, lowered your back, and slowly crawled to him. When you reached him your fingers grabbed a hold of his furred cloak and you looked up at him with pleading wide eyes. The scent of your growing arousal made his nostrils flare and you could see there was an internal war going on within his mind about what he was going to do with you.

It was a demeaning idea but your fingers crept under his heavy cloak and you found the button latch to his trousers. He allowed you to remove his flaccid length and the heavy sack resting beneath it. You should have been utterly disturbed by how grotesque he was but you breathed a small moan while grabbing a hold of his cock. The longer you held him the harder he seemed to grow. Fully invested in what you were doing your hand tightened around him slightly and gave a few slow strokes of his shaft. The way his foreskin pulled backward and forward along the bulbous head of his cock was intoxicating and it was now you too who was breathing heavily.

As much as would have liked to deny it, there was a deeper connection than either of you would have expected to bloom. It wasn't just sexual it was disturbingly spiritual as if you'd never be truly free of him the same way he'd never be truly free of you. You had driven yourself mad about succumbing to his darkness but it wasn't just his at play, it was yours too. The longer you stayed with him the faster your mind began to unveil the depraved and dark thoughts that you kept at bay to keep yourself sane.

This mutual infatuation dared to ruin the both of you and you came to terms with being quite alright with that. It didn't take long before he fully hardened under your grasp and you gave his weeping slit a long and desperate lick. Your eyes never left his predatory ones as you coaxed the head of his erection past your lips. You sucked your cheeks in as your head began to bob up and down his cock. His entire length would never fit in your mouth so you kept your hand stroking at his base while your mouth worked on the half of him that it could please.

The fingers of your free hand found themselves in between your legs and sliding down your undergarments so you could spread apart your slit. You were unbearably wet with need as your walls clenched around nothing. Two of your fingers rubbed desperate circles around your clit until you were a panting mess and whining with his cock in your mouth. Your lover - your darkness, kept his composure and looked down at you with intrigue. His angry glare from earlier had softened but not enough to make you feel safer.

He grabbed a hold of your head and pulled you away from his shaft and his tip left your lips with a wet pop. You didn't stop stroking him at his base while his sharply pointed nails descended from your head and stopped at the side of your neck. One of his nails pierced your skin and drew a short line across your tender flesh. The pain was agonizing but you knew if you stopped he'd simply claw you deeper.

"That mark is for talking back to me and out of turn on the first day we met." You didn't have to look down to know that fresh blood dripped from your wound and further downward into your dress. His nail came into contact with your flesh again and you felt the carving of another short line. "This mark is for spending countless nights crying because you wanted to go home." He gave you a shorter moment of recovery before the pointed claw dug into your skin again.

"And that one would be for refusing the first few meals I would leave for you..." He wasn't smiling but his eyes held a sadistic gleam to them, he was hurting you and he found it amusing as usual. Your hand loosened around his shaft momentarily while the stinging sensation of your wounds began to cause your eyes to water. You shut your eyes entirely as another line was carved into your neck. "Once more for running away from my home. You have four now. If you ever gain a fifth that will be your final night with me."

When you opened your eyes his hand was freshly slicked with blood and now pressed to his lips so that he may taste you. To taste the life that he deemed so endearing to keep around him. Watching him do that made your slit weep with arousal even more. Before you could take him back into your mouth he stopped you and instructed you to turn around with a wave of his finger and you obeyed. You sunk back onto your hands and knees knowing what he was implying but it still surprised you when dropped down behind you and your dress was lifted above your hips.

You gasped when the head of his cock prodded at your folds before he thrust forward and entered you. When your body became flush with his, your hips rocked against him begging him to move. Even your walls pleaded with him dearly every time you felt yourself clench miserably around him. His length pulled away from you before sinking back in with a hiss from him as he started up a feral pace. Your body jerked forward every time his hips met with yours followed by a moan from your lips. With every thrust his sack would slap against your swollen clit and that made you whimper even more.

Your cunt was so greedy for his touch just to be able to take all of him like this when he'd just started. The pain of the lines he had drawn on your skin was soon forgotten about and forgiven with how pleasurable it felt when he split you open like this. It wasn't just the physical pleasure affecting you, you were also getting off on the power that he had over you, how little effort it would take for him to kill you right here while buried within your wet heat.

In between your moans and whimpers, you'd hear him grunt in approval from behind you. What was completely unexpected and took you by surprise was when his hand found its way back into your hair and he forced your head to the side so he could claim your mouth in a kiss. This level of affection was new to you but it soon became welcomed as well when his tongue slipped into your mouth. Blood, whether it was yours or Mihai's lingered in his mouth which intimately transferred over to yours and you greedily accepted it during the kiss.

With his cold tongue exploring the cavern of your mouth he only pounded you harder from behind which made your back arch further for him. You took one of your hands off the floor and started vigorously rubbing your clit in circles desperate for your approaching climax. When that peak reached you and your walls spasmed furiously around his cock you moaned loudly against his mouth and the overstimulation made you remove your hand and squeeze your legs tightly shut but his fervent thrusts continued.

His mouth left yours and your head was pushed down roughly onto the floor while he continued taking you from behind. Your legs began to tremble and your body wanted to inch far away from him but he held you firmly in place making you take everything he gave you and more. The increase in pace made your lower belly tighten as you came for him again around him. Your eyes rolled back and your hips buckled against him while you cried out with your release.

The thrusting stopped abruptly and he pushed so deeply inside you that it was painful. The tip of his cock began to twitch against your cervix and several ropes of his release shot into you. Your needy walls were milking him of his seed, making him fill you up like this. He left you feeling so full and satiated as the deed you'd both have done was nothing short of passionate He pulled out and you were flipped over onto your back so that he could lick the dried and congealed blood from the wounds he left on your neck. Your eyes grew heavy-lidded and you just laid there and let him salivate all over your neck and chest as much as he pleased.

You didn't remember closing your eyes and falling asleep until you woke up in the guest bedroom of the castle. You were light-headed from your ordeal last night and you nearly fell off the bed when you turned to see what looked like a stone grey box in the middle of the room. The more you stared at it the more you could make out its morbidly beautiful details and carvings. For some reason, it started to look more like a coffin maybe even a sarcophagus than a box or container as you thought it was. It looked expensive and ancient and you had no intentions of touching it unless you'd like to receive your fifth and final mark this evening.

Images of last night as memories came back to haunt you and a familiar ache between your thighs threatened your composure. With that ache, you felt an undeniable soreness, and inklings of pain that flooded the left side of your neck. Before you were able to exit the room the sound of stone sliding against stone made you stop and look at the now-opened grey sarcophagus with wide eyes as a clawed hand reached out from the darkness within it. Suddenly you were ready to succumb to it all over again.

[likebreadandwine]

we have similar urges, you know. I give in to them more rarely, but I do give in. especially at holidays.

in a festive daze, when the house is full of cookies and chocolate and leftovers—cured meats and fine cheeses and chips and dips—I crave something sweet, then salty, then hearty and savoury, and it's all at my fingertips. I graze, all day long. I nibble. so many wonderful tastes, I can't help but to indulge the impulse. I dip biscuits in sweet, milky tea. I languidly bring chocolate-covered cherries to my mouth. I'm full and I feel like it, warm and satisfied.

but you, you have a hunger that far exceeds mine. I watch you, all day. I like to savour my small bites; you are voracious. it's not as if you don't enjoy your food—I know you do, the way you hum and groan and sigh between bites. it's just that you get carried away by a craving. like you can't be satisfied by one chocolate, you have to eat your way through the box.

after all this time, I still find myself counting what I've eaten, keeping track of how many sweets, how many slices of bread, stopping once I've reached some arbitrary, self-imposed limit. you never seem to count. (you leave that to me sometimes. you know I have a tally going in my head and you'll ask what the damage was after you've finished.) you never limit yourself.

you want something and you have it. even after your shirt has gotten snug and you have to arch your back to get comfortable and an ache settles across your stretched stomach—you want more and you have it. I watch you for a long time, not saying anything, but longing to touch you and wondering how it feels. I'm always wondering.

you're getting heavier, bigger, taking up more space, needing more to feel full, your appetite growing stronger. how does that feel?

I wonder, too, if you know what it does to me. you know some of it, and you take advantage: casually reaching up to some high shelf to tease me with a peek at your belly; making little comments about how I shouldn't keep all these snacks in the house, how you overdid it today, how you're getting fatter and it's my fault (you are and it is). all this, you know, will make me blush and squirm and look at you hungrily.

but I wonder if you know I feel a wave of pride when you spend a day shamelessly eating. if you know that I am affectionately cataloging all the changes to your softening body—the cheeks getting rounder, thighs more plush, the burgeoning swell of your belly and hips, the stretch marks blooming like spring crocuses. if you discern my stunned, joyous near-disbelief that you feel safe enough with me to abandon all inhibition. in fact, that you allow me to suggest (or cajole or demand) you have more when you're already filled to the brim and breathless.

you're so open to pleasure, so unguarded. I am in awe of you. and just when I feel myself resisting, scarcely able to believe that I am invited to participate in all this pleasure, I remind myself that when you want something, you have it.

and you have me. I'm yours in every way. I have never been so wanted.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Hey, Can I make a request with a s/o teaching Shenhe, Eula, Yelan, and Arlecchino how to play video games?

(Genshin Impact) Shenhe, Eula, Yelan, Arlecchino, Furina, and Clorinde's S/O teaching them how to play video games

Game: Animal Crossing

Shenhe has tried games like Genius Invocation TCG, but that one frustrates her more than anything.

S/O, then decided to show her a game that she for sure would enjoy: Animal Crossing!

It didn't require anything other than just a will to relax. Plus, it was just a cute way to do something together!

(Shenhe) "...Your character looks cute."

Shenhe is enraptured by the charming little animals, being fondly reminded of Cloud Retainer in a strange way.

She plays it a little bit in what free time she gets, but really enjoys it in S/O's presence. Though there is one thing that annoys her about the game.

(Shenhe) "This is the fourty-seventh time I have gotten the 'Sea Bass' today. Am I doing something wrong when I am fishing, S/O?"

Her ingame avatar has long white hair and wearing something far more cutesy and casual than her usual attire.

Part of her wondered if S/O could get her these kinds of clothes from a store so she could wear it in real life.

A/N: I've gotten more Sea bass from ocean fishing in this franchise than I've eaten bread in my life.

Game: Monster Hunter

Eula decided to indulge S/O in trying to teach her how to play a game. After all, it was better than doing nothing.

It takes her a second to get used to the controls, but she quickly learns how to attack and dodge.

Only when the game truly begins did she realize what S/O had picked out.

(Eula) "Are you trying to tell me you'd like to go hunting for beasts with me, S/O?"

Teasing aside, Eula is a quick learner and becomes very skilled at hunting the many monsters of the game, getting weirdly competitive about it. Despite the fact there was no player versus player element at all in it.

(Eula) "HAH! I finally made the best Master Rank armor in the game! Everything we fight should be child's play!"

She also loves the cat companions that are in the game and spends a great deal of time dressing them up in cute/hilarious outfits.

Though she will enact vengeance if anyone calls her out on that.

A/N: Man I can't wait for Wilds.

Game: Metal Gear Solid

Yelan usually rolls dice to see what her day off becomes.

And this time, it was to have S/O show her these "Video Games".

Yelan settled for some "Tactical Espionage Action" game, the irony not being lost on her at all.

She learns the controls and plays it extremely casually, being more drawn in by the absurd story and characters.

Yelan is usually laughing at the action, but still enjoying herself.

(Yelan) "Geez, is this how your world views agents, S/O? It's not nearly as cool as this game's making it out to be."

Part of her wants to try hiding in a box to see if anyone would notice, but she'd also like to still be alive and not caught.

But the temptation is always there, everytime the dice decides for her to play this game again and again...

(Yelan) "Hm...the explosions in this game are a little much, but I guess it's also not entirely inaccurate...Sometimes, anyway."

A/N: I GIVE MY LIIIIIIIFE, NOT FOR HONOR, BUT FOR YOUUUUUU

Game: Mario Kart

Arlecchino usually passes on any offer to play a game, not because she didn't want to, but because she likes to observe.

(Arlecchino) "Let the children play first, S/O. I will join soon after."

What she usually witnesses for Mario Kart is a bloodbath.

This game brings out something in her kids that she hasn't seen before.

Even Freminent and Lynette, some of her more reserved kids, turn to something feral when playing against the others.

She's equally entertained and kind of concerned, like maybe this game wasn't healthy, but it did bring everyone closer and give the kids something fun to do.

Arlecchino decides to jump in at many kids' requests, and admittedly isn't that great at it.

But she has more satisfaction in watching the kids have fun.

That being said, there is some sadistic pleasure she has throwing the blue shell and watching whoever's in front take the brunt of it.

(Arlecchino) "Fascinating what these video games can do to children. Do you have more they can all try?"

A/N: Coconut mall is the best map, change my mind.

Game: Subnautica

Furina is at first excited to try something new.

(Furina) "Oh, a game about the beauty of the ocean? I shall beat it no problem!"

But she didn't realize that unlike Fontaine's waters, (Which to be fair, held its own terrors), this was an alien planet's ocean.

She's jumping at every little thing, screaming as she's desperately swimming away from the tiniest fish or anything that even makes a weird noise.

(Furina) "W-WHAT WAS THAT NOISE?! I'M GOING BACK TO THE LIFEPOD!"

That's not even to mention the Leviathans.

The first time she saw a Reaper, she immediately dropped the controller and buried her face into S/O's arms in terror, yelling out something sounding like a curse and crying.

Furina doesn't like video games anymore.

It takes something like Endless Ocean to calm her down about the waters again, thinking that every video game ocean has a Leviathan now.

A/N: For me, that game is horror until I get the Prawn Suit, then it becomes Pacific Rim as I hunt down every Reaper near the Aurora.

Game: Baldur's Gate 3

Clorinde was intrigued by video games, but honestly wasn't too keen on the idea of trying it. It didn't seem up her alley.

Until S/O showed her a game like Tabletop Troupe, but this time without the fears of annihilating some poor Game Master's campaign.

(Clorinde) "...Do you mind if I give this game a try, S/O?"

Her expression doesn't really change as she's playing, but that's because Clorinde is really immersed in the world.

It's just a lot of fun to truly let loose and interact with the world and NPC's, no fear of dealing with any player trying to murder-hobo their way.

SHE could be the Murder-Hobo, finally. Not that she would.

She enjoys playing it in her off time, but nothing beats living players and rolling the dice herself however.

This game did give her a few ideas for some new campaigns however.

(Clorinde) "I'd be interested in seeing you play with me, S/O. What choices would you make? And by the way, in true Tabletop Troupe fashion, we're not save-scumming. Once you roll the D20, our fate is sealed."

A/N: OS TAV RO VA VIVOLKAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

[appleblueberry-pie]

Hello again, I hope you are having a good day. May I please request for Yandere Nanami wherein he miscalculates how long his business trip would be and he comes home to emotionally wrecked and hungry darling ( He locked them in the closest as a punishment prior) which leads to hurt comfort between the two

Nanami opened the front door and kicked off his shoes, sighing in disappointment at his timing and at how late at night he got back at. Traffic was terrible, his shoes weren't as comfortable as they were this morning, and he missed you terribly. He ran his fingers through his hair that no longer mattered now that he was indoors and put his suitcase out of sight.

He was going to call out that he was home, but reminded himself that he still had you cooped up in that shitty basement. He walked through the house and into the kitchen to finally get you a glass of water. He was only supposed to be on that business trip for around two days and be back home by the time the third day ended. The basement was very spacious, but even he had his limits in there. Which is why it was a great punishment, in his mind. He had enough of your mouth and you attempted to escape after almost sending him over the edge all in one day. But he still worried for you. There were no lights or any sense of comfort in there. At this point, he just wants you in his arms again. The thought makes his heart race in excitement. You must feel so lonely, feel so anxious, so cold, and

You freeze when you turn and see Nanami standing a few feet away from you, watching you shove your fifth slice of bread into your mouth. The two of you mirrored the same look of horror as you acknowledged one another. Nanami's face contorts into one of realization while yours continues to drop. Your stomach twists in fear at the sight of your captor finding you outside of your confinement and suddenly you feel nauseous and no longer desire any kind of elements of nutrition.

Pieces of food that weren't swallowed fall out of your mouth in fear and surprise and you scatter off to the nearest room with a lock and you slam it shut, fiddling with the lock and somehow manage to turn it with terribly shaky hands. It's hard to breath and you hyperventilate as you scoot into a corner, keeping yourself huddled.

Kento was still stuck in place, his mouth open in complete shock. You had ransacked the entire kitchen. He lets his eyes scan over everything on the ground. Almost nothing in the cabinets or fridge was left untouched, so many things left open and touched by his poor, poor girl's fingers. Juice, crackers, the bread you tore into, butter, cereal, refrigerated rice, half-eaten boxes of vegetables and fruits, uncooked noodles......it didn't end there.

The more his eyes found laying around, the heavier his heart got. This was all his fault. He didn't mean to......do this to you. Not at all. His eyes flutter shut as he rubs them, a sigh leaving his mouth. This wasn't supposed to happen. He inhaled sharply to gather more courage to step past the obvious signs of severe neglect he had done to you.

He could hear your fast-paced breathing from outside of the guest-bedroom and shakes his head in shame. He was so fucking ashamed of being so irresponsible with taking care of you. He was supposed to be your lover, your caretaker, the one you should be able to trust. But it seems like he can't even do any of those things right. He was wrong. "I'm sorry." His throat felt like it was constricting his vocals as he chokes out the apology. No kind of words or affirmations could change what he did to you and he wanted to be able to help you see that.

His face was so close to the door, as if he could speak through it into your heart. The last thing he'd do is force you into anything. He deserved to work for your trust back. "I'm so sorry, baby, please." There wasn't much he could make himself say. His ears picked up on your silent sobs and he dropped his forehead on the door, his hands on it as well. "I'm not gonna hurt you, I just wanna see you. It's been so long, hm? Since we last saw each other? I just want to hold you."

You didn't know how to feel. You just did something so very, very wrong. This is the type of behavior that gets you in the basement and a chain on your ankle for decoration. You broke out and practically flipped the kitchen upside-down. What isn't he going to do to you??? You didn't even realize yourself speaking through your tears. Constant 'leave me alone's slipped through your lips as you cried. You were so damn scared of what he'd do to you.

Outside the door, Kento shakes his head at your words and presses the side of his face to the door to hear you better. "No, no, no, no, baby. I won't hurt you, I promise. Can you please trust me just this once? I just want to make sure you're okay. You're hungry, I can tell. Just let me help you and you can get all of the food you want, okay??" Kento shakes the doorknob subconsciously, which makes you gasp in fear. Kento flinches away from it when he hears you make the sound and immediately and tells you he won't do it again.

He continues trying to verbally sooth you through the door, telling you repeatedly that it's okay. "....Everyone has limits. And I pushed you to yours." You wipe your face of your tears and push yourself to your feet.

Slowly, you hesitate, but take your quiet steps towards the door. Nanami can't hear anything on the other side. Are you okay? Why are you quiet? Are you trying to escape through the window??? It's bolted. Never mind. He's worried. "Darling?" He silently whispers. All he gets is the sound of his own breaths.

Then the loud sound of the lock clicks and he takes a step back. The door cracks open, extremely slowly. It's almost impossible to tell. You only leave enough space to look through about 1 inch to peek at him through the door. And even with that much to look at, he can tell you are so scared. He shouldn't have done this. The constant anxiety this is giving him continues to make his stomach cramp. A wobbly smile makes its way onto his face. "There she is! Can you-.....please let me take you out of that room?" He stumbles over his words, his arms awkwardly spreading out to seem as if he's friendly.

The silence you let grow only leaves room for more interpretation. You just stare at him with that stone cold eye. Almost as if you're trying to see through him. But nothing is hiding behind his face but the constant stress he's getting from stressing you out. He obviously loves you too much. He gets overprotective sometimes.

You open the door and step out and his shoulders relax as he very carefully looks over you. You used the bucket. Which was good. So, you were at least somewhat clean. You just looked.....hungry. Your face seemed slimmer, your eyes sunken in exhaustion(not that much, but he's great at details when it comes to you).

Before you could stop him, he was cleaning the kitchen and got to running you a bath and making dinner.

[physalian]

How to subtly show the passage of time in your narrative

For instances where actual concrete numbers would be either jarring or unrealistic for your characters to know, like if they’re castaways in a remote region, prisoners of war, under house arrest and unable to access technology, or any other situation where a character cannot ground themselves in a reliable timeline. Or simply in fantasy settings that don't tell time in concrete numbers.

Giving your readers actual numbers can be jarring, whether it’s explicit measurements of things that invites readers to do the math that you might not have (thus risking plot holes), looking out of place in your narrative style, or giving numbers your characters realistically wouldn’t know.

Things like a 60lb bag of dog food, or an 8ft ladder, or a 2 liter bottle are different. Those are common measurements most people come across in conversation or otherwise. Taking an aside to make sure your readers know that a kiddie wagon is 3.5 feet long is… weird. Unless the story demands that, for some reason, this measurement is critical knowledge.

Passage of time is the same, and even more prone to potential plot holes. If you’re writing a story where time is critical, like characters are on a mission and timing must be perfect, then lacking numbers would be strange.

Anything else, though, and in the real world, we estimate all the time. “It’ll take maybe 45 mins” we say, not “it’ll take maybe 36 mins”.

But if you’re in a situation where characters don’t have clocks and calendars, their estimates should be broader and broader and more hyperbolic. “Talking for hours” “sleeping for days” etc. Otherwise, how do they have an exact sense of how much time has passed, and why is a specific number important? Readers can tell when a character or narrator is being hyperbolic.

If you want to get even more vague and subtle, you can either have characters notice environmental details, or clue the reader in without characters even knowing.

I think I’ve mentioned this already, but my go-to here for cases that last months is characters commenting on how long their hair has gotten, or the narration saying something like, “their hair has grown out over their eyes”.

But there’s a bunch of others

How thick the dust is on their surroundings

If the leaves on the trees have changed colors, grown back in, or fallen off

How long their fingernails are

How chipped nail polish has become

How nasty bruises have faded and changed colors

How much weight they’ve lost or gained

How much mold is on bread, or how much food has been eaten or rotten

How many cobwebs/spiderwebs have appeared

How desiccated the corpses of frogs or lizards have become

How grey their hair is, or their dog’s fur

How many weeds are growing in the sidewalk or in the gutters of their house

How many leaves are covering the lawn

How faded paint has become

How far natural roots have grown out, or hair dye has faded

All of those tend to be a more negative passing of time so here’s some lighthearted ones

How full the refrigerator door has become with children’s drawings

How cluttered the dresser is now with family photos

How worn a favorite pair of jeans/shoes or sweater is

How big kittens or puppies have grown

How many baby clothes don’t fit anymore

How many gummy fingerprints are all over the sliding glass doors

How worn the couch cushions are

How the floor is all scratched from dog nails or toy wheels

How much fur is everywhere

No matter what, even if characters do have clocks and calendars at the ready, you can still be subtle about it. Yet another example of showing, instead of telling, in about the same amount of words.

[heartfullofleeches]

OOOO moth darling? I wanna throw my idea in too. Maybe a super kind and caring goth moth darling? Especially when they look super menacing (bcus they wear hardcore goth fashion) but their favorite game is smthn like animal crossing or they like super relaxing hobbies. (Also adonis could literally suffocate in the big tittie from his goth partner.) I hope you see my vision. PLEASE.

[Yan Butterfly + Goth Moth Darling]

Adonis is so weak for Darling.... He probably sneaks invites them into the buildings/homes he cleans for his job especially if there's been a murder or the home owners had some decor he knew they'd like. Adonis makes a fair amount of money from his cleaning gig, even moreso on contacts that are more "under the table" ergo shady folks looking to clean up any evidence left behind - but he's always spending his cash on gifts he knows Darling will like because he knows their preferred style of dress ain't always cheap.

Darling tells him they don't need it, but how can he stop when they're so kind to him? Making sure he eats, takes breaks, sleep. Butterfly boy may have worked himself to death by now if it wasn't for them. The long, grueling hours are worth it so long as he gets to come home and rest on their soft, warm ti- pillows...

-

"Brought you some sandwiches. Nothin' special, grabbed them from that gas station around the corner, but I knew you had to have something since you've been here all morning. Promise I'll grab something more filling next time"

An angel....An absolute angel gifted from the heavens above. Here you were bringing him food and checking up on him, yet you had the gull to believe it wasn't enough.

"...thanks...." Adonis shyly takes the bag from you, tensing as your fingers brush against his. You gaze around the living room as he clumsily works to untie its strings. The couch, TV stand, and coffee table had all been pushed towards the far walls - dark stains embedded into the carpet close to where the legs of the table once stood. You crouch to get a better look.

"Is this...." Your voice grows quiet - barely a whisper as you extend your hand. "Where it happened?"

"M....Mhm..." Adonis mouths through bitefuls of bread and cheese. The sandwich wasn't the best, or worst thing he'd ever eaten, but knowing it came from you made every bite heaven. He had given you some details of the incident that had taken place. A burglary gone wrong resulting in the death of an innocent man. Nobody even knew he was gone until bills began piling up. Never had many friends or close family.... Adonis wasn't close with his parents either... If something happened to him... you'd probably be the first and only to notice...

"Adonis?..."

"Y...Yeah?"

The butterfly freezes as your arms fall around him, pulling him towards your chest.

"Promise me that no matter what you'll text me at the end of every shift you have. It doesn't matter how late it is...All I care about is that you're safe."

You actually care.... Adonis has always know that, but hearing you say it out loud even if muffled by his face smothered by your chest...He knew it was an inappropriate time, but it was hard not to obsess over the contact with every beat of your heart playing like a melody in his ear. An angel, his angel. His saving grace he'll never let go.

"I will... Every night... I promise to I'll let you know whenever I get home.. I promise."

"Thank you....."

Adonis looks down at his half eaten sandwich. "...My bosses said I could take anything I wanted. I think there's still some clothes in the closet still that you might like if you're interested?"

"Raiding a dead guy's closet wasn't on my list of plans today...but I think I have enough space in my schedule."

[devi-hydra]

NEW OC: NU CLEAS (Original design by beebfreeb check out its art RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Based on the Lakota word for lost/wander, Nuni (Nuu-Nee), and the irish word for trick, Cleas (Klaass). This is because if I dont dig into my background at least once a month I start dying inside.

Inspirations: The panic of getting lost in a place where everywhere looks the same, infinite hall tricks in video games, videos where people are camping and someone they dont know starts fucking with them, finger bearers from JJK, and fairy mythology.

More under the cut!

(It/Any) Nu Cleas is regional spirit, especially prevalent in the local area where it lives, having existed there almost as long as the people have. Nu targets anyone it thinks is a big enough sucker, and tricks them into wandering around in circles until the victim dies or gets way somehow.

Strong minded individuals have escaped it by boring it to tears, and were able to spread word of its existence, making it stronger by being known. When it gained enough power to become sapient, it started letting a few people go on purpose every once in a while to reap the benefits, like letting a few larger fish go so there's more of them later, or feeding deer so more come your way when its time to hunt.

For a good chunk of history, Cleas couldn't keep up. The people started cutting down its home, and tried to shoot it. Not that it did anything, but talk about a broken ego. For a few hundred years, Nu lie dormant, as to not waste precious energy. Accidental deaths pinned on it kept it nourished in its spiritual hibernation.

Nu awoke in the modern era of concrete and LED lights, and with a new sense of inspiration, it adapted. Buildings can be confusing too, no? It picked up a snappy new look, and began to target buildings that had large numbers of humans like hospitals, offices, hotels, etc. And it made sure the stragglers it let run free knew exactly who they were talking to.

NU CLEAS IS BACK, BABY!

Fun facts about Nu:

It's rarely ever put its hands on someone, but it won't hesitate to if necessary. A few people have turned up with their faces ripped clean off, untouched by the wildlife.

The actual number of deaths related to Nu is unknown, normal occasions of people getting lost in the woods and dying of dehydration or starvation look identical. Not even Nu knows, how much bread have you eaten, after all?

To anyone thats not food, Nu Cleas is perfectly amiable, and has a brilliant mind, albeit an annoying one. Plenty of local and wandering spirits have called Nu Cleas a friend over the centuries.

Nu Cleas has plenty of children. It's rare for two spirits to have a child, so most of them stem from the few humans that knew Cleas as a friend. Many of these children went on to become authors, entertainers, artists, etc. thanks to having the same quick to bore personality that drives Cleas forward. Furthermore, Nu wasn't a deadbeat and remained in the lives of its kids from birth to death.

The Nu Cleas that you and many others see is essentially a three-dimensional shadow of the true Nu Cleas, or like. an appendage. This is the case for many deities in this setting, though Nu doesn't have the same reach as more powerful spirits.

It doesn't like spinach.

[gilverrwrites]

🎇 + 😺 + 🥺 for dick & jason & if you do kyle rayner but if not then for hal!

Jason, Kyle, and Hal under the cut.

Dick

🎇 orgasm headcanon

Dick has such a praise kink that if you catch him in the right frame of mind, you can make him cum with minimal stimulation. So long as your rubbing his cock, even through the thick fabric of his suit, as you whisper admirations in his ear. “You’re so beautiful baby, fuck, nobody does it like you do.” He’ll be whimpering and making a mess of himself, just for you in moments.

😺 how they eat the pussy

Dick is a fucking terror when it comes to eating pussy. It’s his bread and butter, his first point of call in any sexual experience. He loves it. He’s good at it, and he knows it.  

He doesn’t let on to any of that of course, not the first time. “You ever had this sweet pussy eaten before?” Is all he’d asked as he popped the button on your jeans, hiking them down along with your panties and started pressing deep, open-mouthed kisses to your freshly exposed skin.

“Not well.” You’d lamented, tickled by the hot breath of his laughter at your response. “Good luck.”

In minutes he had you reeling, fists clenched in his dark locks, your toes curled, breath hitching. Dick doesn’t need luck.

He gets so pussy drunk too, it’s a problem. As stated, you’re seeing stars before you even know what’s what but Dick’s not going to settle for just one, two, not even tree orgasms. He’s going until his jaw falls off or you put your foot down, and it’s hard to put your foot down once he’s found that sweet spot deep in your cunt that makes your legs kick uncontrollably into the air.

🥺 first time headcanon

As mentioned above, Dick loves oral. The morish feel of your core pushed against his tongue, your thighs wrapped around his face, the tangy bittersweet taste of your juices, all of it was ingrained in his mind from repetition long before he ever felt the bliss of feeling your velvety walls swallowing his cock. It wasn’t for a lack of trying either. You’d begged him night after night, praying each time that this would be the fateful night he finally let you have it, but Dick held out, prolonging both your thirsts until he was well and truly certain that he'd driven you to the edge.

Jason

🎇 orgasm headcanon

For the longest time, Jason tenses up at even the smallest feelings of pleasure. It’s a little jarring, when he’s begging you to touch him, telling you there’s nothing more in the world that he wants than to make love to you, that this is the best he’s felt in years, but his body feels like it’s trying to repel you. All those hard muscles pulled taut, his hands fisted into the sheets like he’s trying not to punch something, but it’s so hard to say no to him when he’s pleading for more.

Eventually, with time and comfort, he starts to relax. It’s still like fucking a brick wall, but a brick wall with a blanket draped over it. And it’s gratifying, knowing that you did that, that he softened up for you, because he wanted to. Because he feels like he’s able to.

😺 how they eat the pussy

When it comes to eating pussy, Jay’s like a dog sniffing for food. Any time your legs are open he’s on his knees, nudging at your thighs with his nose, kissing the seam of your underwear, and silently begging for permission with those godforsaken eyes.

He likes to take his time. No matter how many times his tongue has explored your pussy, he eats like it’s the first time, every time. Slowly probing your tight little hole, stroking your clit every which way, testing which techniques mess with your restraint the most.  

🥺 first time headcanon

The first time you and Jay slept together, the first time he ever got laid, he came within a matter of minutes. It was- he just- you were- ugh, y’know?

You were underneath him, smiling, watching him through those sexy, half-lidded eyes, making noises he’d only imagined. And you felt so fucking good, your skin so soft to the touch, your core all hot and tight. He felt it happening. Tried to stop it. Pulling out as quickly as possible but it was too late and he came with a panicked cry and a series of swear words, pumping cum all over your stomach.

It took a lot of comforting, a lot of persistence to get him to stop beating himself up over it. You had to remind him that you weren’t going anywhere, anytime soon, so the two of you would have plenty of opportunity to do things differently, but eventually he caved.

Coincidentally, the first time you did it was also the same night he gave oral for the first time, and boy did he give.

Kyle

🎇 orgasm headcanon + 🥺 first time headcanon I’m tying these two together because they link. Stay with me here.

The first time you and Kyle had sex, he told you that he loved you. It wasn't even in the throws of passion, although he was definitely thinking it, every time you called his name. You gripped him tightly, grasp constricting every time he hammered into you, hitting the sweet spot he was so proud of finding over and over. You were howling his names with every thrust; “Kyle! Kyle,Kyle,Kyle!” and he thought “I love you! IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou!” in response to each one, but he managed to hold it back.

At least until the two of you collapsed onto the bed, sweating, panting, still holding onto each other as you rode your highs back down to earth.

“Kyle?” You’d questioned, watching how he stared blankly at the ceiling, lips curled into a boyish grin.

“I love you.” He replied immediately, clasping his hands over his mouth as soon as he realised what he'd said.

The tradition continues throughout your relationship, once you said it back to him, once you’d talked things out. Now, whenever he hits his climax, he whispers “IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou.” Over and over until his balls are empty and his body lays limp beside you.

😺 how they eat the pussy

Kyle is more hands than mouth. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy the taste of your sweet cunt, or the feel of its soft, plump walls swallowing up his tongue, it’s just that he gets distracted. The artist in him is so enamoured with the curves and plains of your body, the way your skin ripples as you ride out waves of euphoria. Fucking fascinating. He gets so lost enjoying the show that he forgets to use his mouth a lot of the time, instead fucking you on his paint-stained fingers over and over until you start whining, pleading for him to dig his tongue in deep so you can cum on his face.

Hal

🎇 orgasm headcanon

Hal is a creampie guy, and an ass man. You don’t even have to let him fuck your ass, but when he’s on the brink of shooting his load, he’ll beg you to stop what you’re doing, to roll over and let him spread your cheeks so he can push the crown of his cock just past the rim. He’ll be so good, please baby, please let him fill you up. Just the brim, so he can watch his cum spill back out. It’s so fucking hot to him, seeing it flood between your crack, dripping onto the bedsheets before he scoops it up and pushes it back in.

😺 how they eat the pussy

Sit on this man's face. No really, sit. Don’t hover. Sit and ride him. He’ll thank you for it. Once he can muster a word that isn’t muffled by your pussy pressed against his lips. He’ll thank you for pulling his hair and grinding on him till his skin permanently has your scent ingrained into it. He’ll thank you for the view; a front-row seat to your body as it bends and rolls. He’ll thank you for the unrestricted access to squeeze and slap and massage your ass while you work his tongue into every crevice of your sweet, sweet cunt.   

🥺 first time headcanon

The first time Hal sleeps with anyone for the first time, he gets a little timid around the subject of his dick size. He’s not shy in any other part of the courting process. He’s pretty slick when he’s putting the moves on you. That time you saw him in nothing but a towel? No skin off his nose, he’s got a good body. Asking you what you want out of a relationship? What gets you going in the sack? Talking dirty to you on the ride him? All of it, easy as pie.

Stripping off and exploring each other’s body with unlimited access for the first time? Bliss. But the second your fingers slip beneath the waistband of his boxers, quickly closing in on his painfully hard cock, he freezes up. Holding his breath, watching and waiting for your reaction. He shivers as you drag your thumb along his length, unaware of his tempered nerves.

But then you wrap your hands around it, gently jerking him as you start to pull his underwear further down, looking up at him with a feverish grin. You say; “Hal I can’t wait any longer, fuck me now.” And all the tension dissolves from him.

Smut emoji prompt requests are now closed.