#i’m like a child without a leash

[chaotic-orphan]

So I've been reading Intoxicating Fear for a while now and (Oskit shippers don't come after me) I don't see Kit and Ambrose being together. I get Ambrose but can be somewhat gentle with Kit, but I just don't think I've really seen it till now. I don't think their vibes or morals line up. I could see Jude and Ambrose together, as like a power couple of sorts, but I think don't Kit and Ambrose would be well together. (I'm sorry if this is repetitive and no one asked for my opinion on the matter. I love your work so much,

HAH HAAAAAAGGHH!!! YES!!!! WOOOOO!!!! THANK YOU ANON!!!!!! *sending kisses and bouquets of roses and popping champagne* I ABSOLUTELY ASKED FOR YOUR OPINION ON THE MATTER!!!! HAHAAAHHH! I’M NOT THE ONLY ONE!!! Now, Oskit shippers also don’t come for me, but I agree!!! Wholly and completely.

I agree that Ambrose can be gentle, and that their morals or vibes join up at all! My reasoning against them as a couple is simply because Kit would never, ever forgive Ambrose for what he did to him, what he took from him. Kit didn’t have a good life growing up, and then he found Mentor and his calling in the Hero academy — so when Mentor took him in and gave him a home and a life and love, Kit slowly, very slowly, let his guard down and started to believe the stories and movies about life being good, and then— Omen attacks and Kit is left alone again after taking the risk of hoping for a better life for himself.

It also doesn’t sit well with me because who has the power in their relationship? Ambrose, always, always Ambrose. So even if Ambrose made advances would Kit be too afraid to say no? And that makes it too like situations that happen in real life for me

Jude and Ambrose however? They are on the same kind of power balance (both in power and status and how they hold themselves) which would be a-okay to write, but because Kit is Ambrose’s second victim *ever* [and also just his victim] it is far too personal for Kit to ever get passed that and love Ambrose —— unless, Ambrose compelled him, and then it kind of goes into the Jessica Jones realm

Having said that, Oskit shippers, I get it, I love a good unbalanced power dynamic myself where love blooms — hell power imbalances in general (esp in whump, WOOF) — and I also love that you see something in the story that I never intended, and felt strongly enough about it to bring it to my attention!!! It has been a very fun and fucking hilarious experience, and I really like the coffee shop AU idea so it probably will happen, just not in canon 😉

But ANON, may the gods smile on you today for sharing your thoughts and opinions on the matter, I thought I was fighting against the army of Oskit shippers by myself, but now we can go back to back and fend them off with spears XD

[pejite]

Hi! Today, I’m sharing a list of mods that I consider essential for playing historical gameplay in The Sims.

I often have friends who want to dive into the Decades Challenge but aren’t sure which mods to use or where to start. So, in this post, I’m going to share the mods I personally use and think are indispensable for creating that authentic historical experience.

Deaderpool's MC Command Center: This mod allows you to manage and modify many aspects of your game, including handling pregnancies, university careers, and enabling teen relationships so your Sims can marry earlier, among other features. You can also enable autosave and adjust the length of a Sim day.

Lumpinou's RPO: This mod enhances relationship dynamics and expands pregnancy features. It's extensive, with many modules, and once you've tried it, you won't want to play without it.

Pandasama's Realistic Childbirth: Offers multiple realistic childbirth options, including natural bed births and spontaneous labour, adding depth to your Sims' family lives.

MizoreYukii's Arranged Marriages: Allows you to arrange marriages for convenience. Parents can agree on marriages for their children, but breaking the arrangement won’t be easy.

Necrodog's Carriages and Horses: Adds functional carriages, enhancing immersion. While it doesn't work with the horses of Horse Ranch pack, it’s still incredibly useful.

Kuttoe's Enlist in War: It will allow your Sims to enlist in the war. Whether they live or die will be random, but if they survive, they'll receive the Veteran trait, a lifetime pension and some lasting traumas.

JaneSimsten's Regency Romance: Perfect for simulating the Regency era. It adds class differences, property ownership, etiquette skills, new traits and careers, events, and widowhood. Though inspired by the Regency era, it works well for later decades too.

SimKatu's Reading Animation Override: Changes the reading animations, with different ones for men and women, making your Sims’ reading time more immersive.

Zero's Deadly Dickensian Sicknesses: Introduces the risk of diseases like Tuberculosis, Typhoid Fever, and Cholera. It’s incredibly realistic with its contagion system.

Adeepindigo's Healthcare Redux: A comprehensive health mod that adds various illnesses and treatments, including tuberculosis and (early access) cancer. While Sims can buy modern medicines, many illnesses can be cured with natural remedies.

Adeepindigo's Simulated Endings: This mod will enhance everything related to your Sims' deaths, allowing them to take out life insurance and designate beneficiaries, arrange funeral preparations, and introduce stages of grief for your Sims.

MizoreYukii's Functional Broom: Adds a functional broom with its own animation, letting you keep your Sims’ homes clean without resorting to modern vacuums.

Triplis's Quit or Join School: In case you need your teens or childs to quit school.

The Kalino's Farm Animal Set: Expands your farm with more animals, including goats, sheep, ducks and more, in addition to the standard cows and chickens.

JaneSimsten's Write With Quills: Replaces your Sims' pens with quills, adding a touch of historical accuracy.

JaneSimsten's Sidesaddle Override: Allows female Sims to ride horses sidesaddle, as they would have in the past.

JaneSimsten's Parchment Computer: Replaces modern computers with parchment and quills, complete with their own animations—perfect for pre-typewriter eras.

Frankk's Language Barriers: More realism to sims being from different worlds.

Rs4ella's 1920s Grade School Homework Override: Changes the look of the kids' homework book to a 1920s style, but it works well for earlier periods too.

Xbrilliantsims's Toddler Bathtime Overrides: Replaces modern bath toys and sponges with more era-appropriate items when bathing toddlers.

Lunamoth's Historical Infant Carriers: Swaps out modern baby carriers for fabric slings, suitable for any historical era.

Lunamoth's Rope Pet Leash: Replaces the modern pet leash with a simple rope, making it look more appropriate for historical gameplay.

300yearschallenge's Historical Baby Bath Override: Changes the baby bath seat to a more suitable design, or you can opt for

Sassymissollie's Invisible Infant Bath Seat to remove it entirely.

JaneSimsten's 5 Day Work Week: Choose Your Own Work Hours: Lets you adjust your Sims' work schedules for a more realistic experience.

JaneSimsten's Marksmanship Skill: Adds a marksmanship skill, allowing your Sims to practise shooting and hunting, with the hunted animals available for cooking.

Littlbowbub's Ye Olde Cookbook: Enables your Sims to cook historical dishes, perfect for low-income Sims in older settings.

Basemental's Basemental Drugs: Although mainly known for adding drugs, it’s commonly used for its smoking features, letting your Sims smoke cigarettes and cigars like a proper Victorian gentleman.

MizoreYukii's Children/Toddlers Can Die of Anything: Allows your child Sims to die, useful if your storyline requires it.

Ayoshi's Phone to Notebook Replacement Mod: If phone elimination mods are causing issues, this mod might help. It replaces the mobile phone with a small notebook, which could pass for a mini Bible or an old-fashioned notebook.

JaneSimsten's Extra Cross-Stitch Patterns: Adds historically accurate cross-stitch patterns.

[madaqueue]

TEAR MY FLESH, HOLD MY HAND, FEEL MY WARMTH

the weight that lies in a pinky promise

pairing: suguru geto x gn!reader

themes/content: curse/canon au. fluff, angst. mentions of fights/difficult childhood. (wk: 3.2k)

a/n: this was originally gonna be for flufftober but it got a lil angsty teehee so here we are :) also the mouse on my computer stopped working so i did all this formatting on my phone bc i'm that dedicated to serving you guys this fic

Suguru was a soft child. Chubby hands, round cheeks, gentle steps.

He was sweet in all the ways a child ought to be, at least according to your parents - sweet in all the ways you weren’t.

You, on the other hand, were loud, jarring, unreserved. “A handful,” you were always described as by those who attempted to care for you. Perhaps that’s why they allowed you such a great extent of freedom, tugging against the length of a leash they tried to place around you, but they’d need stronger chains to tie you down.

And yet, you and Suguru found your similarities - you were both unencumbered by expectations. I am who I am. In spite of everyone, in spite of the ways they tried to dig their tight hands around you and force you into something you weren’t. You are who you are.

The first time you met him, all you saw were tiny feet kicking the air, unable to reach the ground from where he perched upon the park bench. He was the only one not screaming, something you appreciated, something novel. Your life had held such chaos, constant arguments, slamming doors. The peace that wrapped around his small frame seemed to exude a comfort you craved, even if it couldn’t be articulated by your six-year-old mind, you were drawn to it. To him.

“Hi,” you chirped, lifting yourself next to him.

“Hi.”

When you grinned widely at him, he returned a thin-lipped smile, as though he had been trained by wild dogs who took eagerness as a threat, who wouldn’t dare snarl unless as a warning.

(He noticed your absence of fear immediately - how could you approach him so easily? Had you not been taught to be wary?)

(You had been taught. “Avoid strangers, they’ll hurt you.” But you would never choose the harm of the monsters you knew. Better to take your chances in the wild.)

Averting your gaze, your dirtied fingernails began absentmindedly picking at the green paint coating the wood beneath your legs. Your eyes landed on his knees, scuffed and bloody.

“Did that hurt?”

Without looking at you, he shakes his head. “No, I’m just clumsy. I fell off my bike.”

“That’s okay,” you hum, “I get bruises all the time. You must be pretty tough if it didn’t hurt.”

And this time, he giggles, crooked teeth poking through. “Anyone can get hurt, it doesn’t make me tough.”

Leaves rustle overhead as you let out a thoughtful sigh, allowing the sounds of the breeze to fill the silence. It’s comfortable, you realize, no tension hanging in the air like there always seems to be at home, no threat looming around the other side of the kitchen counter.

You tug with all the strength your muscles can muster at a large strip of paint. With a final pull, your palm catches along the fraying wood, splinters digging under your flesh as you let out a choked cry.

Immediately, the boy’s small hands wrap around your wrist, pulling it to his face. Worried eyes inspect the wound. “Are you okay?” he asks without looking up.

A small whimper falls from your throat, lower lip trembling as you hold back tears. “Y-yeah,” your voice wobbles.

You’re lying. He knows you’re lying - you aren’t particularly hard to read, he grows to learn, somehow always wearing your heart on your sleeve. It’s a trait he admires (perhaps because he’s never quite able to place his there so visibly).

When he frowns, you almost giggle at the sight - no child should frown like that. It’s endearing, the way his eyebrows furrow, mouth tugged downward.

“Can I make it better?”

It takes very little to make you trust him, but you believe he wouldn’t hurt you. Just as animals seem able to sense intent, an implicit knowledge that the human freeing them from a cage won’t inflict additional pain, you know that his stubby fingers won’t dig at your flesh and make you bleed.

So, you nod.

Determined eyes turn from your visibly pained face to your aching palm. Slowly, he removes the shards of wood from your skin. When you wince, he pauses immediately, waiting for your shoulders to relax before he continues. By the time he’s finished, your bottom lip is red from biting into it but the pain isn’t even noticeable, not when every nerve in your body seems focused on the warmth coming from his fingertips still lingering on your wrist.

“There,” he breathes through the softest smile, “all done.”

“Thanks,” and you can’t help but grin back.

“And see!” He’s beaming now. “You were very tough!”

Your laugh is brighter than the sun, more calming than the birds chirping overhead, a sound he can’t help but mirror. His desire to cheer you up, to comfort you through it all, makes your cheeks warm.

“I’m Suguru, by the way.”

He opens up easily to you, an honor you don’t quite understand yet. When you introduce yourself, he repeats your name back slowly, the vowels sweet like the flowers blooming nearby. It sounds good in his voice.

A whistle cuts through the humidity, immediately drawing Suguru’s attention.

“I gotta go,” his face draws into that adorable pout again.

“Oh.” Dropping your attention, it falls to your freshly healed hands resting in your lap. “Can you do me a favor?”

Expectant eyes meet yours.

“Promise me I’ll see you again?”

This time, he smiles so wide his cheeks push up into his eyes, crinkling at the corners. Holding out a hand, he gently grasps yours as he intertwines your fingers.

“Pinky promise,” he grins, linking them together with a shake.

Through a giggle, you mimic, “pinky promise.”

He shuffles off the bench, clumsy feet landing on the ground before he hobbles off to the waiting arms of a parent who seems to love him. Your heart aches for a moment before it stills - you’re happy he has someone to take care of him, to pull the splinters from his hands and clean off the scrapes on his knees.

It’s a miracle when you both get placed at Jujutsu Tech. It takes very little for you to abandon the place you called home, having jumped at the first chance to leave your childhood behind, but having Suguru there makes it even easier when you get approached by a strange man with dark hair and glasses who touts himself as the principal of some elusive school a few hours away. They’ll pay for your housing, your food, anything you need to survive for the next four years so long as you agree to train and work for them. It was an easy yes - you would have done more for less.

And of course, there was your so-called “power.” The two of you had danced around the subject for years, hesitantly testing each other’s experiences to not unload worry onto the other. That was the thing about Suguru - he was always looking out for you, and you, him. He never needed to ask if you were thirsty, he’d just bring you tea; you never had to ask if he was lonely, you’d just find him sitting alone on the same park bench.

It was Suguru who finally broke on his thirteenth birthday while the two of you made your way through town, snowflakes hanging in the air.

“Do you ever…see things?” he asked, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket in a futile search for warmth.

From the corner of your vision, you caught the faintest glimmer of fear in his eyes. And you understood immediately.

“Yes.”

His shoulders visibly relaxed, hot breath puffing into the air. “Thank god,” he murmured.

Again, it wasn’t a surprise, per se - the two of you had shared everything. It only seemed natural that you would share this ability to see curses, the monsters hiding in the shadows.

“Do they ever…scare you?” Your voice felt small as you asked - you hadn’t yet reached relief, or at the very least, neutrality towards these things.

And he sees it in you, too - the dread he felt when he first saw them, the pang of terror that shoots up his spine when he catches one moving in the dark. He’s grown more accustomed to their presence, but there’s still that thread of fear lingering, choking him when he gets tangled in it.

“Yes.”

Cold fingers lace through yours, squeezing your hand reassuringly.

“But I’ll always keep you safe,” he smiles that sweet, soft smile, “pinky promise.”

The training wasn’t easy. You hadn’t expected it to be, obviously, but fuck was it hard.

Suguru excelled initially, as he did with everything. The others in your small class also show great potential, Satoru in particular, but Shoko’s abilities develop in her own way, too.

It’s nice to finally feel like you have a place where you belong, to have people to return to, people who care about you, who love you. It’s nice to be here, even if it pushes you to your limits everyday, because you know you’ll always have someone to come home to - to know you’ll always have Suguru to come home to.

It hits you on a sunny day in October when you’re watching him spar with Satoru. Fists fly, a mix of black and white flashing across the grass. When Gojo lands a particularly well-timed punch, Suguru’s body lands with a thud in the dirt.

You’re on your feet in less than a second, shoving Satoru out of the way as you stand over the dazed boy on the ground. He looks beautiful like this, you think - his hair splayed out around him, blood trickling from his nose, lips tugged into an awestruck smirk - before you shake the thought aside.

“Are you okay?”

Panicked hands run over his torso, checking for injuries before they land on his face. Cupping his jaw, he can’t help but breathe a laugh at the worry painted across your features. His palms come to rest along your wrists, dark eyes meeting yours.

“I’m okay,” he sighs. Now that you’re here. “I’m tough, remember?”

Every muscle in your body releases tension just at hearing his voice, his calming aura once again blanketing you, bringing you under the warmth of his peace.

With a playful punch to his shoulder, he feigns a dramatic wince. “Just don’t get hurt again, okay?”

He knows it’s impossible - it’s the nature of the job, of the responsibilities he holds. He will be hit and bruised and battered and brought to the brink of death again and again, but right now, that’s not what you need to hear. Because you know it’s impossible too; and you also know Suguru is strong.

“I pinky promise,” he halfheartedly grins. He promises to at least try. For you.

Wrapping your finger around his, you let the heat of your bodies fill the air, vibrating in tune with the cicadas lining the trees. His hand is soft in yours. It feels like coming home - the familiar walk up the steps, the paint on the front door cracking from where palms had rubbed against it time and time again as the handle turned. The wooden floors are worn in with the path you take through each other’s lives, from the kitchen to the living room to the windows, gazing over the backyard.

Suguru had a swingset, you remember. You figured out how to use it the first time you ever sat on the sun-worn rubber, going higher and higher and higher until the toes of your shoes scraped the sky. But Suguru always struggled - he couldn’t quite move his body in the right way to grant him flight. He would get frustrated with it rather easily, until your small hands rested against his back. With a firm push, you set him free into the air, his feet kicking perfectly with all the momentum a child’s body could hold.

Maybe gravity was discovered by children on the playground. There had to be a reason they couldn’t swing forever; there had to be a reason they couldn’t reach the sun.

The problem is, though, that a star’s heat dissipates with distance. It can’t always warm you, not when your feet land back on the ground.

Over the next year, Satoru began going on more missions alone, and Shoko stayed behind to hone her healing, leaving you and Suguru in the purgatory between power and nothingness. And most days, you feel closer to nothing.

It’s eating at him, you realize. The missions, the responsibility, the whole fucking thing is taking bites out of his soul with sharpened teeth and leaving nothing behind but a bloodied mess of torn expectations. It makes him smaller and smaller, pulling pieces of him until there’s nothing left.

You can see it in the way his clothes hang loose on his body. His shoulders slump forward, the shadows beneath his eyes growing darker each night he spends with his gaze locked on the ceiling.

The foundation of his soul is crumbling, the front door barricaded closed. The windows are boarded up. You can’t see your childhood anymore. All the grass in the front yard is dead.

You miss when the sun’s rays shone through him.

You miss when he was warm.

Finding him resting on one of the old benches in the school’s courtyard, it creaks beneath your weight as you sit, the only sound breaking the stagnant silence of the summer air. That’s another thing you’ve noticed - sometimes, Suguru is so quiet you aren’t even sure he exists. If you weren’t here watching his chest rise and fall, could you even prove he was breathing?

He says nothing when you rest your head on his shoulder, not that he needs to, of course. He hasn’t said much lately, mostly responding to everyone else’s overflowing conversations with empty smiles and sad eyes.

You aren’t sure how much longer you can take it.

“Suguru?”

His body doesn’t even shift in response to hearing his name, but you feel his eyes on you even though you can’t see them, your gaze instead focused on your hands resting in his lap. Picking at the skin along your nails, you continue.

“Are you okay?”

He’s grateful you can’t hear the way his heartbeat stutters (because then you’d already have the answer to your question).

“Mhm,” he hums, his lips never parting. You miss the way they used to curl into that childlike grin, it’s been so long since you’ve seen it.

You know he’s lying, but unfortunately, you want to believe him. You want to believe him so badly it feels like you’re trapped underground, buried under your love for him, banging on the floorboards overhead, but there’s no one around to hear. There’s dirt in your lungs and you can’t breathe. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

Silently, you hold your hand in front of him, pinky raised in a question.

Would you promise?

On instinct, his own hand lifts from his side. It hovers just inches from yours, but he hesitates. The gap between them grows farther with each second they don’t intertwine, stars pushing one another apart, unable to collide. The steadiness in him wavers for a moment as you watch his fingers shake.

He can’t.

When he collapses into you, everything falls apart. Arms wrap around your frame, hands grabbing fistfuls of your uniform. He clings to you like a lifeline, the only thing keeping him from drowning. Because as a child, no one ever taught him how to swim - maybe they didn’t see the point in learning such a useless skill, or maybe they thought they were protecting him. But now, he’s been thrown into relentless waves of grief and with each breath more briney water fills his chest and he’s gasping and scared and he doesn’t know what to do except hold you. The tears falling from his eyes taste like the sea and they burn his throat, but at least for a moment his legs can stop kicking. For a moment, he has someone who can keep him afloat.

Your palms rub slow circles into his back as he cries. The sound is sharp and painful, carving into the still-beating flesh of your heart, but at least it exists. At least he’s here. At least he’s alive.

Placing your lips to the top of his head, you let them rest there as his body shakes.

“It’ll be okay, I’ve got you,” you whisper into his skin, surrounded by small strands of hair pulled loose and warm from the sun. “I promise.”

As things tend to do, they eventually get easier.

You and Suguru talk to the higher ups about changing his schedule, only going on missions with at least one other sorcerer so he’s not doing all the work by himself. They bargain and ultimately even agree to grant him dedicated days off to rest. And finally, you feel as though you’ve been granted your miracle, the scales of fate begrudgingly tipping in your favor.

(If all your pain meant that Suguru’s would be lessened for even a moment you would do it over again a million times. If all your suffering meant that Suguru wouldn’t have to endure it for a second longer, you would suffer for eternity.)

Even as fall returns and the sun shines through the sky less and less, things feel brighter. The two of you find yourselves in the school’s cafeteria making tea every night, and he learns he sleeps better with you in his arms.

When the four of you gather around a picnic table outside to recap your recent assignments, you tell some stupid joke, one that makes Satoru groan and Shoko roll her eyes through a smirk, and you hear it: Suguru laughs. And for a moment, the world stops spinning.

You all exchange glances before turning to face him, his cheeks pushed up and pink, eyes closed in bliss. You can’t contain yourselves as you join him, fits of giggles lilting through the crisp air.

That night, he welcomes you into bed with open arms waiting beneath the covers. His lips are curved into a grin as he places a gentle kiss to your forehead, a newer part of your routine, one that makes your entire body vibrate.

Snuggling against him, the warmth of his chest radiates into your skin, each beat of his heart a welcome melody.

“Hey Suguru?” you murmur.

His voice is laced with sleep as he answers into the darkness, “Yeah?”

“You’re really strong, y’know that?”

Letting out an airy chuckle, he rolls his eyes. “I’m nothing compared to Satoru-”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

You can hear the air entering his lungs with each breath. He takes in three before he responds. “I know.”

Long fingers trace circles into the bare skin of your arm.

“Suguru?”

You know what you have to tell him - you’ve been holding it for years, keeping it close to you, carrying its weight through each day until you barely notice it anymore. Maybe it’s the change of the seasons, a different density to the air, but suddenly it has begun to feel heavy in your hands.

“Yeah?”

His hands make their way up your neck until they rest along your cheek, guiding your gaze to him through the dark.

Three breaths in, three breaths out.

“I love you.”

You can’t see him smile, but you feel it. The warmth of his palm leaves your face for a moment until you feel it again along your hand. He intertwines his pinky with yours. “I love you, too.”

[soullessdianthus]

Please 🙏 please 🙏please more Perv!könig!!

A/N: How about Perv!König the brat tamer? Idea suggested by @mxx-mayari ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Warnings: abuse of authority, degradation, dry humping his boot, leash/pet play?

The colonel basically dragged you into his private office, pushing your smaller frame inside by the arm he was gripping so hard. You stumbled over your own feet, before turning around to face an enraged man.  

König closed and locked the door, his palm was splayed over the wooden frame as he exhaled the air slowly. You observed as his shoulder sank, before he spoke.

━ What were you thinking?

His voice was harsh and filled with venom. König’s blue eyes piercing through your soul. For the first time in a while you felt truly terrified. And since you were tied to a private military, there were very few things that made you this vulnerable. Your colonel was one of them.

You took a step back, glossy eyes nervously looking around the room. There was no way out besides the doors he just locked. 

His large figure moved towards your direction. König seemed rabid, but only his voice revealed that fact. Otherwise, he moved steadily, his spine straightened out – the Austrian man was already towering over you, he only did that to scare you further. To make you feel small.

━ I did what I had to to save my college, sir. 

━ But I specifically told you not to. Then why? ━ König finally stopped right in front of you, a little too close perhaps as you had to turn your head away, not to bump into his chest. ━ Do you pity that boy, schatz? Is that the reason?

━ No. Are you jealous, sir?

You scratched his ego, testing the waters – his true intentions. You weren’t blind. You’ve noticed the colonel took a liking to you some time ago and lately his behavior got more… bold.

━ Watch your tone, when speaking to your superior, pretty thing. ━ He carefully squeezed the bone of you jaw with his bare hands and made you look up at him. You looked so cute for him – beautiful eyes staring at him from underneath the eyelashes, somewhere at the edge of crying for him. It went straight to his cock.

━ If that’s everything, I’m going to go, sir. 

Once you tried to walk past him, his grip over your jaw tightened. König hooked two fingers of his other hand over your belt, pulling you closer. He was standing so close, yours and his heat blended together. 

━ Oh, you won’t walk away without punishment for insubordination, soldier. On your knees, maus.

━ W-What? ━ For a second you thought you misheard something he said. But the colonel repeated the order in a more demeaning manner. At that moment, when blood ran cold in your veins, you realized you were in serious trouble.

You didn’t exactly know how you found yourself in this situation – humping your superior boot with a belt looped around your neck. Everything happened so quickly, when he pushed you onto your knees, warm heat pumped within your ears. König said it was your punishment for disobedience, that he was disappointed with his kleine maus.

König forced you to entangle your arms around his massive thigh, one of his hands keeping your head against his crotch. It looked like you were a little child, glued to his leg, begging him not to go.

The man had to put a spell on you, because how on earth would you ever agree to this humiliating thing? Somehow your colonel managed to wrap you around his finger, threatening to abuse his authority.  

━ Come on, you need to work harder, schatz. Apologize. ━ He said, tugging at the “collar” made of his belt. You whined, when he squeezed the loop around your throat again, threatening to cut off your oxygen.

━ I’m sorry. ━ A pathetic sob escaped your lips, when a knot in your lower tummy began to painfully sting. You continuously rolled your hips over the surface of his shoe laces, leaving the sticky arousal on top of it. It was messy and degrading, yet somehow you managed to get yourself riled up.

Obviously König made you lower your pants and underwear, he wanted to feel your bare cunny sliding along his feet, even through the shoes. He could feel precisely how you rubbed yourself to make it pleasurable. 

And he kept staring at you from above, admiring how much the colonel had managed to ruin you. You fell into his nasty, little games he played.

━ Look at you, humping my leg like a bitch in heat ━ colonel laughed, looking down at your pathetic state. By this time your flustered face was stained with tears and it turned him even more. ━ Oh, you wanna cum, pet? Is that what you want? 

But you weren’t very mouthy when overstimulated. You only sobbed and whimpered, when he tilted the tip of his shoe further into your wet folds, causing you to jump forward and arch your ass better. 

━ Be careful, maus ━ the Austrian colonel warned about your noises, gently rubbing your head that rested upon his bulge. You could feel his scent through the material of the pants, his cologne and arousal. ━ They might hear you. 

━ Pl-Please, sir. I-It hurts! 

You pressed your eyes shut, feeling as the tiredness finally got you. All of the struggle against your own release, made you palpable and weak. Suddenly, there was not enough willpower in you to keep talking back to him. You just wanted that sweet release!

━ Will you follow my orders from now on?

━ Yes!

━ Gut, then you can have your little reward, schatzi. Be a good girl and cum over my shoe. 

And you didn’t need much more than this. A few more rolls of your hips and you reached that tingling sensation, warm spreading inside each limb. Your pussy and his shoe was covered in your sticky juices as you shivered, falling deeper into the embrace around his leg. 

━ See? It wasn't that hard to obey orders. ━ König finally said, his big hand still caressing the top of your head. You did so good for him.

[rememberwren]

Ghoap x civilian!reader who comes home from work in a teary panic attack. Simon and Johnny obviously rush to her and try to calm her down. When asked what happened she explained how she was SA’d or harassed by a man on her way home. Simon and or Johnny are SEETHING with anger that someone would dare lay a hand on their girl, but they do their best to stay calm in front of her, silently agreeing to each other that they’ll find that son of a bitch later. Their main priority is to take care of her. One or two of them gets her in a bath, washes her hair and just overall being an amazing fluffy boyfriend/s while soothing her and kissing away her tears. If only one of the boys is doing that the other one could be pacing around the house seething with anger, trying to find out who that man was and where they can find him. Idk up to you, just a random thought :)

(This goes without saying but you obviously don’t have to write this if you are uncomfortable with the situation. I just love fics where the boys are lovingly (and reasonably) protective of reader. Love your fics btw thank you for being such an awesome writer💖💖)

CW: recent non-con.

“Tell me again how you’ll do it,” you mutter, half asleep with your arms on the ledge of the bathtub, chin resting on your folded hands. Goosebumps have bloomed along your shaking limbs. Johnny reaches out and lays the back of three fingers against your shoulder, feeling the chill of your skin. He reaches out and turns the faucet back on, letting the hot water run and run until you stop shivering. 

“Slow,” says Ghost from where he’s perched on the edge of the vanity. His arms are crossed, fists tucked out of your sight. “That’s what it comes down to. It’ll be slow. He’ll be alive for most of it, alive well past the moment when he wishes he weren’t.” 

You give a sleepy smile. It wavers, suspended for an endless moment on your pretty face, and then it falls, tears filling your eyes. You shift away from the ledge and dip beneath the water, hair floating up toward the surface as you stay under until your lungs burn. They wait. When you come back up, gasping for breath, you can pretend that the water on your face is from the tub. 

Johnny turns the hot water off. He hands you the washcloth again though you have scrubbed yourself raw already; a well worn routine. He goes to add a dollop of your favorite soap—the kind that smells like almonds—but you stop him and ask for the soap that they use. 

“I want to smell like you,” you say, eyelids drooping with exhaustion. Johnny reaches for the proper soap and squirts a health dose onto the washcloth. He winces when you shove the washcloth below the water and between your legs. 

“Don’t, love,” he says. “Yer going to hurt yourself.” 

“I’m already hurt,” you snap, the tenor of your voice fragile, friable. You take a deep, trembling breath and let it out. Then you say: “Tell me again.” 

“SlowIy,” Ghost says, patient. He has answered this question in various gory forms for the last two hours. “I want him aware, for as long as possible before I kill him.” 

“We,” says Johnny firmly. 

“We,” Ghost amends, nodding. 

“What’s stopping you?” you ask morosely. 

“Just a dog waiting to be let off the leash,” says Ghost. 

The washcloth between your thighs slows, then stops. You let it float to the surface of the tub and reach out a pruning hand towards Ghost who slips off the vanity and onto his knees on the wet tiles, slipping his hand into yours. He helps you stand, your legs shaking, unused to the cramped position the tub demanded of you. 

Johnny is there with a towel. He presses the water from your hair and wraps you up, gentle against your chafed skin. They help you into bed, pulling back the sheets and tucking you in like you haven’t been since you were a child. The tears come back, and this time you have nothing to blame them on. Nothing. They drip down the sides of your face towards your temples, but Johnny catches every single one.

“Ghost?” 

He turns, head cocked, ear towards you while he waits for your word. 

You say, sleepily: “Go get him.”

[blqstar]

HI BABES<3!!! Can you please please please, write something for a sub!yan Izuku and mean reader 🤭, literally my favorite thing to read! But if not, I just wanna say I love your writing!

ofc, poota butt! and thank you so much, i’m glad you love my writing. i hope this is worth your while, love 🤍

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ CONTENT WARNINGS: nsfw (17+) , yandere themes , sub!yan!izuku , dom!mean reader , oral (f!recieving) , mention of anal fingering , zuku being delulu and v obsessive , honestly not proofread lmaoo

pro!hero izuku midoriya. majority know him as a strong and reliable leading figure, with his strength and intelligence being respected equally. but the man you knew him to be was the total opposite. here he kneels in front of you, lapping up your cunt with your juices, never taking his pleading eyes off of you.

izuku was a total creep. always watching you through darkened corners and small windows, following you everywhere you went no matter if other bystanders watched him in suspicion. he was a major stalker. and with being the obsessive freak he is, you wanted to mess with his head so bad, to the point where he completely crumbles to the slightest amount of attention you give him.

you wanted to use him for all his worth. izuku doesn’t care if you’re the nicest child of god or the meanest bitch on earth. all he wants is for you to notice him, acknowledge him— be something worth your while. And what if you spent that ‘while’ making him spread his legs and finger himself while you watched? who is he to try and stop you?

if he can’t be with you, at least he can make himself useful. if you say that all he’s good for is eating that pussy of yours, who is he to oblige? as long as he’s good for something.

it was just fun and games at first. using the stalker, letting him trip over himself by the fact that you were actually paying attention to him. but the more and more these activities kept going on, the more and more you found yourself becoming fond of the man.

your conscience told you to get outta there, that playing with someone’s feelings was just dead wrong. but it was just too entertaining for you to run away. who else would let you treat them like a little doggy on a leash? no one else but him. that’s why you felt that izuku was a more…special case that needed to be explored to the lowest depths. for your satisfaction, of course.

“i promise to show you i’m worth somethin’ to you….please…don’t leave me, i won’t be able..to live without you.” he says, his hot breath hitting your lips as izuku continues to slurp away at your clit.

your legs shake at the hot breeze, your hand rushing down to hold the back of his head. you can only sigh at his words, pushing his head down a little more.

he savors every swipe of his pink tongue over your abundant slick like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to, and with a hitch of his breath, tears spring to his eyes when he thinks in the slightest that it might be.

if it wasn’t good, you woulda left ‘em already.

[apomaro-mellow]

Hawkins Confidential Part 1 of ?

Read on AO3

Steddie; other minor pairings; omegaverse; 1990s

Richard Harrington is dead and finally, as Steve's husband, Tommy is set to inherit quite a lot. Unfortunately for him, there is a condition in the will and that means Steve has to contact the true sire of his pup, Eddie. aka here's that soap opera au i've been wanting to do >:3c

The organ droned as people walked up solemnly and gave their respects.The air was stale except for the few who went without scent blockers, children mostly. And not everyone in high society thought it was prudent to hide their scent. Steve was one of them.

“Everyone can smell your grief”, his mother whispered as she leaned over. 

“I’m grieving. It’s a funeral”, Steve whispered back.

“I know you didn’t care for your father that much. It’s perfectly natural to care about your child but Dustin still has breath in his lungs, thank God. Your father deserves to at least have your respect in death.” She whipped her fan open and fanned herself and Steve knew that was the end of that conversation.

When the procession moved to the grave plot, Steve walked with his mother on one side and his husband Tommy on the other. Tommy had his arm around Steve’s shoulder. A show of solidarity. His father was laid to rest and Steve had a sliver of hope that the leash around his neck would finally loosen.

“It’s our time now, Stevie”, Tommy murmured in his ear.

And Steve knew what that meant. The three of them, his mother, Tommy, and he went to meet with the executor of his father’s will. There wasn’t anything in it that surprised Steve. His mother got what she expected and so did Steve. 

“And to my son-in-law Thomas, who has graciously taken the Harrington name, per our agreement, I leave the entirety of my shares of Harrington Industries, along with my land ownings and the houses in California and Virginia. All this is yours, provided you have had a healthy heir with my son Steven.”

Tommy smirked. Smug and just barely holding back from whooping with glee. He was not wearing blockers so everyone in the room could smell it.

“Well, that’s that, isn’t it?”, Tommy said. “Where do I sign?”

“Not so fast, Mr. Harrington”, the executor held up a withered hand. “Richard Harrington specified a healthy heir. And as I understand, your son is in the hospital?”

Tommy’s smirk fell. “Yeah. But what of it? He’s gonna make a recovery!”

“And when he does, we may sign away. But until such a time…”, the old man trailed off to let Tommy fill in the blanks.

Steve didn’t want to think about his pup not getting better. If he lost his Dustin-

“What happens if they don’t have an heir?”, his mother asked.

“Should that happen, madam, your husband has outlined instructions that I am to keep concealed until it is certain that these two have failed their condition.”

Tommy grumbled all the way out of the office. They were on their way to the hospital. Steve visited everyday, but now he was sure Tommy’s coming along was just to see if Dustin’s health had improved. Steve smiled and nodded to the nurses he saw regularly. It felt almost like bad luck to see his pup when he was still wearing black from the funeral. But he had wanted to see him right away.

Steve could look at Dustin, pale and limp in the bed and knew he wasn’t getting any better. Tommy discussed at length with the doctor outside anyway. Steve could hear his husband getting more and more agitated even behind the closed door. He chose to ignore it for now, grabbing Dustin’s hand and rubbing his knuckles.

“We said goodbye to grandpa today. Everyone came out to see him, even Aunt Seline and you know how she is.”

Of course, the unconscious boy wasn’t responsive. His chest moved up and down slowly. But that was it. Steve sniffed back tears and scent both Dustin and the little stuffed giraffe he kept under his pillow that he thought no one knew about. Steve put it back under the pillow right when Tommy opened the door and crooked his finger for Steve to come out into the hallway.

Steve obeyed with a sigh and walked out, closing the door just in time for Tommy to start raising his voice.

“I can’t believe this! First that cranio bullshit-”

“Cleidocranial dysplasia”, Steve corrected for what must be the millionth time.

“And now this!”, Tommy pressed on. “His genes are shit, Steve.”

“That’s your son!”, Steve hissed.

“That pup isn’t mine! He never fucking was!”

“You’ve been raising him for eight years and all of a sudden-”

“We need to have another child”, Tommy suddenly said.

The air left Steve’s lungs. “...H…what? What’re you-you’re not replacing my pup!”

“If he’s not going to make it-”

“He can! He could!” Steve’s heart was beating rapidly. “He needs an operation and a donor.”

“Then why the fuck haven’t we done that already?”, Tommy growled.

“Because my dad forbid me from contacting the only man who can do it”, Steve glared. “And you said it yourself that if I ever did you would leave me and Dustin out on the streets.”

Tommy looked conflicted, which was new for him. He didn’t always make the most noble decision, but he did always make it quickly. After a moment, he swallowed and nodded.

“Call him and get him here by the end of the week. Or you and I are going to have some marital duties to take care of.”

Steve sighed. The odds were against him and the clock was ticking. They went home together and Steve changed, hoping Chrissy would be at the country club today. He wore a red sweater to combat the fall chill and was glad to see her at her usual table. 

“Chrissy Carver, as I live and breathe”, Steve said, his greeting well practiced.

“Steve Harrington, I wasn’t expecting to see you here today. Come, sit”, she offered graciously.

Carol and Heather were seated too. Carol had been at the funeral. Heather too. Chrissy was the only one who had not attended.

“I’m sorry about your father. My condolences”, Chrissy said.

“She would have joined your family in mourning if she’d gotten an invitation”, Carol said before bringing her cup of coffee up to her lips to sip.

“And we would have appreciated the Carver’s presence”, Steve said. “But my mother…old grudges, you know.”

“I know”, Chrissy nodded with compassion.

“Actually, I was hoping I could talk with you about some of the student events coming up this semester. I think Dustin’s on the mend, which means he’ll be going back to school soon and I wouldn’t want any of the activities to be too strenuous for him.”

“Oh, we can absolutely talk about that”, Chrissy said. “And since this involves sensitive student info…ladies?”

Carol and Heather stood up and walked off, taking their coffees with them. Any other time, Steve would be wary of them finding out. But considering what he was really going to ask, he was sure his secret was safe with Chrissy.

“So what is this really about?”, Chrissy asked.

“I need you to tell me how to get into contact with Eddie.”

Chrissy’s eyes widened and she sat back in her chair. “Oh…wow I…I haven’t heard that name in a while. Steve, are you sure now is a good time?”

“Dustin might not have time if I wait any longer.”

Chrissy took her planner out of her pocketbook and wrote something down. “We don’t talk. Not really. But he keeps me up to date with his numbers just in case I….well, you know, just in case.” She tore the page out and handed it to Steve.

“I hope he answers.”

“He will”, Chrissy smiled, her eyes a little watery. “And don’t worry about the vultures. I’ll throw them off the trail.”

“Thank you”, Steve breathed out.

When he got home, he paced about the phone, trying to work up the courage before dialing. It rang and his heart jumped in his throat only to hear the voicemail message.

“You’ve reached Eddie Munson. I mean, you haven’t but you know what I mean. Leave a message or whatever.”

Steve scoffed, incredulous and hung up before dialing again. He clicked to leave a voicemail but all he could get out what “The nerve!”, before slamming the phone back down. Then he dialed again, knowing he had to leave more information than that.

“You’re a grown man, your outgoing message should be more professional than that, you might as well be using an air horn.” Click.

“Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be berating you in the first place, that’s not why I called I…I wanted to tell you….” Click.

Steve moved from the bedroom to the kitchen. He was going to need more alcohol to make this call. He made his next call after two glasses. And then a few more after a full bottle. And then he decided to move on to beer. Steve was awakened the next day by the sound of their chef, Scott, coming on.

“Mr. Harrington, you’ve got to get up now.”

Steve groaned, his head swimming. Then he realized where he was and what time it was. 

“Oh god. Did Tommy?”

“He’s still asleep and he will be until he’s served breakfast. But you’ve got to get.”

Steve had enough sense to be sure Eddie’s number was still on him and not just lying around. Tommy might have urged him to call. But if he found out Steve had been drunk dialing him all night…he didn’t even want to think about it. He went upstairs to change and shower off the stench of beer and wine. He knew he must have really sounded like a fool and could only hope Eddie would parse through the nonsense and get his message.

-----------------------

Eddie was surprised to come that night to his phone blinking red, telling him he had messages. He was about to press the button, then refrained.

“It’s probably the shop. And I am off the clock.” He turned the tv on and kicked his feet up, lounging the night away and falling asleep on the couch.

The next morning, he woke up to the phone ringing and picked up. “Yeah? Yeah, hello? I’m up.”

“Hey, how satisfied are you with your current auto insurance?”

“Very”, Eddie said before hanging up. Damn telemarketers. That was probably who left a message yesterday. Eddie pressed the button to listen, ready to just start deleting when he heard that there were twelve new messages. That is until he heard the voice on the other end.

“You’re a grown man, your outgoing message should be more professional than that, you might as well be using an air horn.”

A bit snooty and bratty, just as he remembered it. And then they went on and there was that warmth he remembered too. And then he started to get sloppy and Eddie could tell he’d started drinking.

“The wine bottle’s empty and I don’t feel like goin to the cellar so beer it is. Remember, ‘member when you and I would drink? Do you still like Pabst Blue Ribbon?” Steve snickered on the line. “That time, that time you and I were drinkin’ and we ran out of-god I don’t even remember THAT beer-but we ran out so we a-started drinking PBR and then you panicked because you had your PBR and Wayne had his and we had drunk his and so we were gonna make beer cheese soup for him but then we had to use more PBR and we were high too so we thought Wayne was gonna kill us so we just sat in his room and waited to be punished?”

Eddie most certainly did remember nights like that. His chest tightened, wondering if Steve was just calling him because he felt nostalgic when-

“I can’t remember if I told you already why I’m calling. It’s uh…it’s your son. Our son.” Steve sniffed and took a deep breath. “He’s so beautiful Eddie. And I’m-I’m sorry that you haven’t gotten to see how amazing he is. He’s smart. Smart like you. He doesn’t get shit from me except being a wiseass and that’s mostly you too. But he….he’s sick. Our pup is dy-he’s not doing too well. He needs you. He needs a donor and you’re the only one who can help. You don’t have to worry about my father. He’s dead. Please. I know I fucked up but our baby deserves to live.”

That was the last message. Eddie hung up and then ran upstairs to start packing. It’d take him at least a day to get back to Indiana. But if he put the lead out, maybe he could cut it in half. 

“Time for a reunion.”

Part 2

[makelovetomebypeach]

art donaldson is reader’s ex from college, except you two never really broke it off. at least not properly.

a/n: this isn’t proofread lmfao this was written in the middle of the night i was bored but enjoyyy

-

-

-

you were looking around a gift shop for a friend visiting the city. it was nearing the end of her trip and you wanted to give her a goodbye gift to remember the moment.

the day was cold, snow falling on the streets as cars honked by. thick jackets, winter festivals, christmas trees in the windows of random houses on the street. the entirety of earth settling down to celebrate the most wonderful time of the year.

you knelt down, scanning the shelves for mugs, keychains, you name it. picking out a gift for a friend was a great art you took specialty in.

“lils, don’t run around like that with glass in your hand. drop it and i’ll have to pay.”

you nearly dropped the item in your hand at the sound. a voice that haunts you each day, one that never left your mind. what was his presence doing here?

you were cursing yourself in your mind, putting down the item almost immediately. you didn’t want anything to do with him or his life.

suddenly, a tap on your shoulder causes you to turn around. your gaze meets his beauty, the sculpture of a face he owns. he was a piece of art. literally.

the first exchange of awkward glances soon turn to smiles. past experiences flooding back in a couple seconds of silence.

“i knew it was you.” did you really know? i don’t think you remembered me at all. unless i was stored in the back of your mind like i had always wished. did you miss me too?

“oh my gosh, i haven’t seen you in forever.” you pried a smile on your face as he gave you a side hug. the proximity of your faces sickening knowing that if you’d lasted it would’ve been different.

art took a glance at the girl standing cluelessly beside him. her hand tugging on his jacket as she held up a keychain with a smile. he knelt down, nodding his head and setting a kiss on her curls before she continued her adventure. art’s attention turning back to yours after a huff from the parenting.

“that’s my daughter lily.” “that’s nice, how old?” “seven.”

seven years, and more, he spent getting over me. i never really let go. you keep a leash on my neck even though you’ve got your life together. a child? a wife? a fucking career? why do i feel so magnetized by your invisible presence? why do i, after all these years, hold so much against you, but in reality, there is nothing at all?

“are you and your family just visiting?” you wanted him to come over sometime so that you could excuse yourselves to the bathroom and make out and possibly find your spark again. would that be so evil? you didn’t think so.

he puffed his cheeks, nodding as his hands stuffed into his pockets. “just for a bit, yeah.” the signature side smile that tugged his lips made you have déjà vu.

you were proud of him for doing what you couldn’t, moving on. he found himself a life, one without you, and definitely more successful. did his wife know that you were the one he slept with at night before her? you were the one who ran your fingers through his blond curls? how did he throw you away so easily as if you were never there?

“i missed you.” “i did, too.” “no, i mean like, i really fucking missed you.”

your eyes glistened with something more. yearning, the unresolved question that hung in the air. you didn’t know whether to cry on the spot. everything was full with question marks, anger, sadness, mixes and mixes of emotions that took too much mind to handle. your breath hitched with hesitation. a reassuring smile from art, wiping the tension away.

his smile signaling his acceptance of your thoughts before speaking. “it was real, all of it. and i’m sorry for throwing it under the rug like that. we’re both well past that now, i hope. please forgive the immature mess i was back in college,” his voice paused, like a barrier to the words that were urging to come out.

his hand slipped out the pocket of his jacket, setting it on your shoulder. please, console me, my lover. help me leave the role of being the biggest fish in your sea. no matter how many hooks go through my body, i will always come back to the surface to show you my scales.

“i have to go, but i wish you a happy holidays from my family. you’ll find the one, alright?”

your breath shuddered as you saw art walk away with his daughter hand in hand. their presence disappearing like the intimacy that once remained. the bells ringing as a sign that he was gone, that was his exit. the closure that you so desperately needed all those years.

your story was always destined to be tragic. you were left behind in a dusty cloth, an heirloom soon to be found near his deathbed.

it hurts to know that you will never be loved by anyone like art donaldson again. he was only temporary to your story. you still have a journey that continues, why shed on the past if he’d already moved on?

it was worth knowing that the love was there, and it might still remain, just left unspoken.

you won’t welcome him back anymore. you won’t stay on his doorstep, scratching on the door to find your place again. instead, you’ll be waving goodbye to him from the dock, watching him getting shipped off to sea.

this is our goodbye, art. thank you for stopping by.

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Spooky Season | Halloween Event 2024

Demon With A Heart | Hongjoong

🧡 Pairing: Demon!Kim Hongjoong x Human!Reader

🖤 Requested by: @staytiny2000

🧡 Prompt: 20 - He's a demon with a heart.

🖤 Warnings: Italics is what Y/N is dreaming. Hongjoong threatens a child at the beginning. Murder. Alludes to domestic violence. Hongjoong watches Y/N sleep. Nightmares. Past Lives AU. A small plot twist at the end. This is definitely not as spooky as I wanted it to be. I'm sorry if these have been disappointing.

🧡 Word Count: 1,432

🖤 Taglist: Open. Send an ask or fill out the Tag List Form. Please note that the halloween event taglist is included in the general taglist.

Spooky Season 2024 Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Yu-Jun, stop!” A voice shouts over the bustling noise of the street Hongjoong finds himself on. Looking in the direction the voice came from, he spots a young boy, no older than five, sprinting towards the crosswalk without any intention of slowing down, while a woman races after him. There’s a mix of bystanders ignoring and watching the scene play out in front of them. None of them bother to help stop the runaway boy. 

Hongjoong looks at the road, seeing an oncoming car and gets a quick flash of a vision where the approaching car collides with the boy. It's not until he looks back at the woman and sees her outstretched arms and pleading eyes urging him to do something. It causes something in his chest to flutter. Instinct kicks in, and he lunges forward, reaching out just in time to grab the child by the scruff of his neck. With a swift move, he pulls the boy back. The car zooms past, the driver oblivious to the near tragedy that could have just happened.  

The boy wriggles in his grip, but Hongjoong holds onto him firmly, crouching down to meet his gaze. His eyes darken, becoming pitch black. “Do that again, I’ll drag you straight to hell myself, got it?” he warns the kid. The kid’s eyes widen with fear as he nods his head. “Good,” he finishes, patting the kid on the head and stands up to his full height just as the woman approaches. “You should really listen to your e-” he cuts himself off now getting a good look at the woman. She’s familiar. A little too familiar. “Y/N,” her name falls from his lips in a soft whisper as he watches her scold the boy. 

At the sound of her name, she turns her attention Hongjoong, grasping Yu-Jun's hand tightly, making sure her doesn’t make another escape attempt. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” she asks, trying to recall if she’s seen him before. 

He shakes his head, the fluttering in his chest replaced with something he hasn’t felt in over a century - heartache. “No,” he replies, his tone firm as he shifts from shock to a glare, looking at her and Yu-Jun with disdain. “Get your kid a leash or something,” he mutters before turning away and walking off. 

“What was all that about?” San asks his superior when he joins him and Seonghwa again. The two demons had just witnessed what had happened. San, who hasn’t been around as long as Hongjoong and Seonghwa is clueless about how significant what just happened was for his captain. Always the curious one, Hongjoong couldn’t blame him for having questions. 

“My past,” is all Hongjoong said as the head inside the club they often frequent. 

“I thought they stopped giving her more lives,” Seonghwa says, thinking back to when he last encountered one of Y/N’s lives. 

“That’s what they told me,” he says ordering a drink as they sit at the bar, “70 years ago.” 

Later that night, Y/N is plagued by nightmares she can’t wake up from. 

The darkness envelops her like a suffocating cloud and amplifies her racing heartbeat. The seeming human forms of the people around her twist and transform into hideous monsters, their forms shifting in ways that are unnatural and their eyes glow a blood-thirsty red. As she stands frozen in place, the ground beneath her begins to shake as the creatures encircle her, their deep growls mixed with the piercing screams of her son and deceased parents, echoes in her ears. 

"Please, no," she whimpers, filled with fear as she desperately attempts to flee. Every step she takes is feels like a battle against an unseen force that pulls her back. The beasts close in, their claws scraping against the ground, leaving deep gouges in the dirt.  

“STOP!” a deep, authoritative voice commands from behind her. Y/N turns around, her heart racing, scared of what could be there. As she searches for the source of the voice, the creatures part reverting back to their human form and reveal a figure draped in a black cloak. The figure imposing, with an aura of authority. “Leave,” the figure orders again. The creatures hesitate, their eyes darting between their master and Y/N, uncertainty flickering in their expressions. “NOW!” He yells causing the monsters and Y/N to flinch when they made no move.  

He lowers his cloak and Y/N’s breath hitches in her throat seeing the man who saved her son standing there, a dark and menacing look on his face. A few of the creatures let out a disgruntled growl as they slinked back into the shadows, leaving the man with her. 

“Do you trust me?” he asks, his voice softer now as he holds his hand out towards her.  

Y/N hesitates, her instincts screaming at her to run, but something holds her back. It’s a sense of familiarity that she can’t quite grasp. She's sure she hasn't seen this man until today. "Who are you?" she questions, placing her hand in his. 

“Let me show you,” he says and waves a hand in front of him. 

Suddenly, images begin to swirl around them. A young faceless girl and boy are seen running through the fields, playfully chasing each other.  

As the scenes shift, they appear older; the girl is twirling to the melody played by a man with a guitar, while the boy sits nearby, completely captivated by her. The way he looks at her tells Y/N that this boy may have loved her more than he let on.  

The next scene reveals the boy’s heartbreak as he watches the girl interact with a wealthier suitor, confirming Y/N’s suspicions.  

The atmosphere shifts dramatically as the scene shifts once again. The boy, now a man, encounters the girl, now a woman, with her face marked with bruises and a deep sadness in her eyes. Y/N’s heart races as she watches the man’s reaction. An anger overcomes him as he reaches out to her, his expression a mix of concern and determination. 

“What happened to her?” Y/N finds herself asking, her voice barely a whispers as it trembles with emotion. 

The scene changes one final time, leaving Y/N horrified. Before her lies the woman on the ground, her body covered in bruises, with blood staining her chest and stomach. This time, she can clearly see the woman’s face. It’s her. 

She stumbles back, her eyes widening in horror as her heart pounds in her chest. The man manages to steady her as the same man kneels beside her, his hands shaking as he cradles her head, tears streaming down his face, a raw expression of grief and helplessness.  

“You were never supposed to marry your husband,” the man speaks, his lips close to her ear as they watch the scene in front of them unfolding. “We were supposed to run away together but we never got the chance to.” 

Tears start to stream down Y/N's cheeks, feeling the overwhelming sadness and heartache coming from him in the scene that’s still playing.  

“I found out that you had chosen him to save me,” he continues, his voice bubbling with rage. “But then I saw you in the market that day and something switched. We could no longer deny what was between us and we started making our plans to run away again, especially after you found out you were pregnant.” 

Hearing the last part, her hands instinctively went to her stomach. She feels the phantom ache of a child she never had. 

"He found out and had you murdered," he tells her. “And then I made a deal with the devil to make sure he will suffer an eternity in hell.” He turns her around to face him. “And now I’m making damn well sure the devil is keeping to his side of the deal.” Lifting a hand to her face, he cups her cheek and presses his lips softly to hers before pulling away before she could respond. “I really hope you remember this,” he says before waving his hand in front of her face and sending her into a dreamless sleep. 

Hongjoong stands up straight as he watches her relax in her sleep, free from her nightmares. He brushes away a tear that has slipped down her cheek and takes a step back as she begins to stir. Before she can awaken, he slips out of her bedroom and enters the little boy's room. As Hongjoong looks down at the boy, there is no denying that the boy is his son. 

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead

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[ouchthathurts]

❝ 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐋𝐄 ❞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐬) ⋮ Wanderer/Scaramouch x You

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⋮ 2.3k 

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⋮ These feelings may be too human for this puppet

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⋮ Cross-Posted to AO3 | Scaramouche is called Wanderer | Scaramouche is Bad at Feelings | Soft Scaramouche | Scaramouche in Love | Touch-Starved Scaramouche | Cross-Posted on Tumblr I Wrote This While Listening to Laufey's Music | Song: Fragile (Laufey) 

𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 ⋮ I gotta write more Genshin stuff!

“Are you okay?”

A call out to the name he’s become so familiar to has begun to eat at his heart with your voice sinking their sharp teeth into the flesh he does not have; you tear to him to pieces with your smile and leave him like he tattered doll once finished with him. 

A fight breaks out, one that calls the attention to his fears of abandonment and urges him to leave whilst the other yearns for your company and shackles him to the floor with a call of your voice.  You’ve come to ask if you two would spend time studying together, he’s visited your home plenty of times and finds himself gnawing at the leash he put there that brings him over to you without any say of his reason.

The fist his hand was balled in as he held his head up, there was something that had almost brought him to tears as you asked him such a question. “Of course I’m okay.” Yet, there was something that gnawed at him as he looked at your face, you had looked at him in ways that showed he was making you feel for him almost like a child. 

“It’s just quiet in here…” The young puppet knew if he could not have something to conceal the sounds of his tapping feet, his breathing that became breathy, and the pounding in his chest that had begun to drive him crazy without how it bled into his ears. A hope in his head that you would not acknowledge the way he fidgets with how both your shoulders touched as you sat the shared desk. 

Wanderer scolded himself, if he couldn’t even handle your shoulders against his what could’ve made him believe in actually pursuing a relationship with you. Why would you even want a relationship with him? The way he behaves akin to an antsy child must make you feel like a parent. Why would you ever think of him outside of just studying with him?

In spite of those thoughts there’s a desire in his heart, to sew that smile into your lips forever, his eyes swiftly close as he turns his face back to his book whilst you return to yours, “I'm glad, it seemed like something was on your mind back there.” You spoke your concerns, your half-lidded eyes turned to his with a look in your eyes that were felt throughout Wanderer’s body even without looking at you. 

“I’ll turn on some music.” You assured as you got up from your seat and made your way over to your music case. There was this feeling to pulling you back to him and hopefully meld his material in your warm skin. You looked through the music, your fingers peeling through and getting some out before finding one song, a large vinyl is placed on your record player.

The music that greets Wanderer is a soft piano, a warm and light guitar, and some orchestral music's picking up in parts to lull to the puppet. You turn back to Wanderer, “I hope you like it, I often listen to this when I’m studying alone.” You explain as you make your way back to your seat, putting your hands in your lap before turning your head to meet with the young man next to you.  “Are you ready for us to continue studying?” The way you questioned him, there was a softness in his voice that he had yearned since he was brought into this world. 

You’d go out of your way to make a puppet feel more serene? 

Out of the kindness of your heart? 

The puppet pondered before scoffing at such a thought: Only a fool would believe such bright and fulfilled eyes as ones that were meant to bring joy into this world while he was being tortured by the sight of your benevolence. 

A couple of candles burned softly around the two of you, had you always glowed this lovingly under the light? There was something being highlighted in your face that had only made Wanderer more lost in what he was witnessing.

Pleasing? There were features you had that made the puppet believe it was the archon’s punishment to him for having feelings.

Captivated? Of course he was, just the mere presence of you in the same room had left him feeling the warmth he had been longing for since creation. 

Bewitched? A spell casted on him, he had only done to himself by allowing himself to gaze upon perfection, candles burning him wouldn’t turn him away from your beauty.

The thought of you set him ablaze with the gaze he was met with once his eyes begrudgingly made their way towards yours. Oh dear. There’s this swelling where his heart would be, he finds his ears are hot with your glazed over eyes as you waited for him to speak. 

“Is there something on your mind, Wanderer?” You find your hand slowly coming from your lap to your cheek, flustered by the astonishment in his eyes, your index finger tapped your cheek as you awaited an answer. You could’ve killed him with such a move. There was something with how you always knew where to place your hands that would highlight you, whether it was your face, hands, or your figure. In awe, he’d fallow them to where they landed and paid close attention the area.

“N…No. I’m just...” You found your lips parting a bit, with your brilliance you would be able to say something that he couldn’t think of no matter how many years he had spent in Teyvat. “I’m just lost in how to solve this problem…I’m scared of how I’ll do for this upcoming exam.” Schooling was another debt he’d be paying for the archon, he worked among his fellow peers, yet the only one who he decided to talk to was you. You were a late arrival into the class, thus you both would have to work together to catch up with the rest of your fellow classmates. 

“Oh please, you’ll do perfect. You always do.” You had admired him; with the way you spoke of how often you would see his scores and his answers it was no surprise you saw him as one who was always more than a couple steps of ahead of your peers. “I don’t think you actually need to study with someone sometimes, y’know? You’re so smart, you could do an exam as soon as it’s called out.” 

To be praised by you was one that could ease his pains when the world turned his back on him. A long day of being delt a hand that left him as an outsider to those who interacted with him, he would yearn to come to your home and lay his head in your lap and be coddled like a child. The mere object he was, he loved so deeply to be deemed as one whose heart was as sensitive as a porcelain antique.

“Please don’t be so humble…” Wanderer spoke, your name taking it’s time in his mouth before he begrudgingly let it go to, “Without your help I wouldn’t have neary gotten this far, it’s almost admirable how much work you put into projects and honestly, you’re a lot smarter than the rest of them.” Wanderer effused, although his tone was hidden by his nonchalant one, you imagined him babbling happily about you and couldn’t help but find your face flushed. 

“You really think so?” Without missing a beat he swooned, “I know so.”

There was something about those words that caused your heart to pound incessantly against your rib cage, desperately trying to escape the confines to profess its feelings towards the one the pounded alongside it inside of Wanderer’s chest. 

Endearing was what you call such a moment, as he held his gaze with yours with a flush on his face that called attention against his pale skin, he had found himself so utterly flustered by the situation and all that has left him that he looks to you with large eyes and quivering lips as he found his eyes struggling to stay on your doe like ones. 

The way they pierced him, he found himself bounded to chair beneath him with his knees buckling and his fingers digging into the cushion as his neck began to ache from turning to stare at you for so long. 

The music had pulled on his ears, a pinkness beginning as he finds this moment becoming more and more confined by all that surrounded him. Whether it was the candles that brought a new light to your features, or the music so low, or even the way he found your arms so close to his that made both your hearts skip a beat. 

Breath hitching as you both found yourself opening your mouth to get much needed oxygen, so entranced by this moment to forget breathing in your nose. Wanderer found himself matching your breathing pattern, he had no need to breath in all his years of living and yet the moment he’s alone with ou he feels his throat closing up with the closeness of one another.

The room was spinning, the sound of music was cradling the two of you in this moment as it conducted the thoughts that came through both your minds whilst staring into each other's eyes. It felt as if there was something coming, a warmness that the Wanderer hadn’t known the name of as his eyes darted to your parted lips as he followed your breathing. 

You had found yourself looking down at his lips as well, soon finding yourself lost in the moment alongside him, you leaned in with a string brining you over to the puppet as he hadn’t taken the time your lips getting closer to his as all he could do was try to breath alongside you.

To feel what you felt in that moment was to align himself with you perfectly. 

As you brought them closer all Wanderer could do was began to keep the cushion in grasps, almost tearing it apart like a kitten, he found his lips quivering as he felt your breath against them causing him to feel an overwhelming number of emotions. The way they had begun to swirl throughout his body and pull his body one towards the other had caused his mind to spiral. 

“...erer!” 

The puppet’s eyes closed, he finds the back of his head and neck ache with the harshness of your wooden flooring clashing against him, there was something that had caused his face to become engulfed into a redness as he finds himself slowly bringing himself up with his left arm supporting his leaning and his right being brought up to his face before being met with you knelt beside him.

“Wanderer! Are you okay?” 

Your tone filled with worry as you looked to him with fret filling your eyes, Wanderer finds himself a bit embarrassed by all that his happened, a bit being an understatement as he finds himself looking the other way to avoid your eyes. “Of course, I am.” The puppet slowly stood, “Be careful, you took a hard fall.” You insisted whilst you reached for his hat, getting up alongside him as you handed it towards him. 

“Do you need an icepack? Is your head okay?” You questioned him with care in your tone, worriedness as if you had struck him when he inflicted this on himself, he couldn’t handle such a tone. You were so considerate as you kept apologizing before pushing his hat to him and going to get some ice for him.

Wanderer wondered if you���d still feel this way if you found out he was a puppet.

You came back with a clear bag of ice and handed it off to him as your eyes filled with fear of it all. “I think I should be heading off now.” The words that shot from his mouth he wanted to take back, as he found your heart shattering in your eyes. The look on your face, no matter how hard you tried to hide it, had called for execution and torture beyond inhuman. 

It was what he believed he deserved for lying to you about wanting to leave.

“I think that’s our time, Wanderer.” The way you spoke with an ease when departing had lacerated all his yearns for profession to you, like a God, he’d fall to his knees and hold your legs begging for more time with you. The wanderer finds the time with you short, while he would say a couple more minutes, his mind would loop with the pleadings of years to be spent alongside you. 

However, today he would collect his things, “It seems so.” The detached tone that shielded all the ache of leaving you for the night. Something beat against you in your chest as you so desperately wanted him to stay alongside you. Yet, you bid him farewell, thanking him and apologizing about “Having the wrong idea.” 

Wanderer shook his head, “There is no need for you to apologize.” The puppet was glad for the darkness out, you could not witness the blush of his embarrassment from not being able to handle a simple kiss from you. “I apologize if I gave you the wrong idea of what I wanted from you.” You shake your head, “You did nothing wrong, Wanderer.” 

You both stand there, the warmness of your heart aches to bring him back in and Wanderer yearns to be in the light you had blessed him with. You both stand there however, looking at one another for a moment only for you to speak, “Safe travels.” You tried to hide the want whilst Wanderer tried to hide his desire, “Thank you. You as well.”

You close your door and Wanderer finds himself walking away, once a safe enough distance from your home he begins to curse himself.  “You imbecile! You couldn’t handle someone kissing you!? Embarrassing yourself like a child wetting themselves!” There are more curses that come from him, until he arrives at his quarters and launches himself into his bed. Letting out a loud groan there is only one more thing left for him to call out. 

“You as well !?” 

©ouchthathurts please don't translate, claim as yours, redistribute and/or plagiarize in any way. likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[bitethedevil]

How do you think Raphael would react to feeling loved (not even necessarily in a romantic way—it could also be him feeling appreciated and loved platonically)?

Raphael and Love

(As always, these are just my interpretations of him. It’s dark, but I trust that you have read my “ask”-section and knew it probably would be beforehand anyway. I feel like I’ve made a post about Raphael and love before, but I can’t find it anywhere, so I’m using your ask for it. Hope that’s alright <3)

He would love it. He’d bask in it. He would get addicted to it so fast and it would fascinate him. Not in any healthy or soft way though, far from it. Your love is a tool that is to be explored and exploited for his own pleasure and morbid curiosity, platonic or not.

Testing limits

Ah, so you say you love him: Are you sure about that? If you really do love him, how far are you willing to go? If you truly loved him, surely, he could do whatever he wanted with you, right? He would constantly test your adoration to him, and each little line that you let him cross only means that he will go even further the next time. I am not talking about just ‘making you jealous’ or something like that. I am talking truly abusive and horrible shit. He will literally not stop until he knows that you would literally suffer the worst torments, die, and kill for him.

Making up

What happens then when you snap? He is definitely the type to lovebomb someone and effectively winning them back with all he has got. It is him loosening and tightening the leash. He would give back all that love you craved in return for yours…Until he knows he has got you and then it is back to dissecting you for weaknesses again, like a child seeing how many limbs they can pull off an insect before it dies.

Jealousy and ownership

You are his property. He won’t accept anyone even looking or thinking about you. If possible, keeping you locked away from everything else is the ideal. Why would you need to see other people, if you allegedly loved him more than anyone else? Isolation, control, full attention on him…

It’s the same thing when it comes to affection and intimacy. It will be very dependent on what he wants and likes. I don’t believe it would be entirely one-sided though. He will still touch you and make you feel good, but more in the way that one explores a new and expensive toy to see how it works, and it will be transactional. He never does a thing in his life without wanting something in return.

Love

It’s complicated. He loves your love. He loves the attention and adoration. He craves it. But again, you are a tool for him to get that love. He has no problems molding and shaping you into what he wants, because it can always be better. Look at the House of Hope: everything he owns is shaped in his own image and for his specific needs, and you will be too. Unconditional love is not a part of his vocabulary.

Obsession and dogs and cars

Raphael is just like his daddy when it comes to obsession. It’s hyperfixation. He will get obsessed with someone who gives him the adoration he thinks he deserves, and he will want every bit of it that he can squeeze out of you. He will lose himself completely in it. But. He ‘likes when people put up a fight’ and he likes puzzles, like Korrilla says. You are a puzzle to him. Once you have endured all his excruciating tests with flying colors and he has molded, broken, and shaped you into what he wants, the puzzle is over and things start to get boring. You start to get boring, and Raphael is not a man who lets himself be bored. It is like a dog chasing a car.

(Thank you for the ask <3)

[anonymousdisco]

How’d I get Isikia’d into Yandere Obey Me Chapter Eight-Unexpected Opportunity Part One

(Y/N)’s POV:

I woke up groggy and half asleep as I snuggled closer to the warmth surrounding me. My eyes flew open as someone held me tighter. I stiffened in shock at the sight before me. What the fudge sticks was happening?!

“Go back to sleep. It’s still too early for you to be up.” Lucifer pushed my head closer to his chest as he held me against him where he was seated on my bed doing his work.

I blinked slowly in shock and pried my hands from his grasp to rub my eyes in shock. “Lucifer…?” There were no lies or faking it in my complete confusion. The shock I had was genuine as I tried to get out of his grip.

”Yes, it’s me. Now go back to sleep. Like I said it’s too early for you to be up. Little girls need their sleep.” Was his tone almost… gentle?! I haven’t even interacted with him yet! How is he like this already?!

”It’s fine. I’m not tired anymore.” I felt a little annoyed to be treated like a child since I had been an adult in my previous life instead of a teenager, but I hid my feelings of annoyance from my tone and expression. “Why… are you in my room?” I tilted my head and gave myself a shy like expression.

Lucifer looked at me quietly for a moment. His gaze for a second faltered from his usual prideful facade and behind it I saw an almost guilty expression. “You looked cold, and lonely when I checked on you last night after a… meeting I had with Lord Diavolo.”

”I see. I suppose that makes sense.” I said hesitantly. He wasn’t suppose to have a meeting yesterday. But it’s not like I can talk to glitch with him here even if I do it through thoughts. He’ll get suspicious of my behavior if I do. I must wait till I have a moment alone.

I felt an uneasy pit in my stomach. This wasn’t suppose to happen yet since I wasn’t ready for it, but I’ll have to work with it. Time to get an Oscar in acting. “Since I’m up you’re welcome to go back to your office.” I slouched my shoulders curling into myself a bit holding myself now with my arms. It gave me a fragile look kinda like a sad doll. I kept my eyes shut tight like I was avoiding seeing him leave.

When I felt his hand on my head stroking my hair I opened my eyes hesitantly. Peeking up at him through my eyelashes with a touch of vulnerability.

”I’m almost done with my work for the day. I’ll be back to collect you for some errands once I’m done signing these last documents.” He got up carefully to avoid jostling me from where I sat. “We’ll be having breakfast in my office before we leave. I’ll prepare it.” His voice left no room for complaint since his words came out as statements rather than questions.

I simply kept quiet and nodded carefully as I stared at him leaving my room. Once he was gone I closed the door and slumped down to the ground in front of it. “Glitch. What. The. Fudge. Was. That. About?!” I panicked a bit now that I was alone. A variable I had no control over was bad. One misstep could be my downfall.

Glitch flickered to life in front on me. “That was due to an action of Lord Diavolo that was… unexpected to say the least. He got home so fast afterwards I had no time to wake you to warn you. It worked out perfect. You have his attention now. But you still need more to get him permanently hooked.” Glitches screen had dimmed and was tinged purple at the edges kinda like glitch was embarrassed. 

“It’s fine. It’s not your fault. Looks like I need to get Diavolo on a tighter leash. Or at least under my thumb without him noticing.” Glitches screen brightened at that.

”I agree user. That’s a great thought. But how?” Glitch hovered excitedly.

”I don’t know yet. I have to fix Lucifer’s pace of interest in my wellbeing first into something steadier and more permanent first before anything else. What is he planning?” I get up from the floor suppressing my unease.

”I think he wants to spend the day with you. It’s hard to get a read on him compared to others because of him having such a solid facade. At least with Barbatos I can somewhat guess his thoughts and next actions through assuming what Diavolo would want from him.” Glitch explained to me carefully.

”Darn it…” I huffed a bit in irritation which made glitch dim again. “Not you glitch just the situation.” Glitch brightened again before moving off to the side of my mirror on the wall.

”What’s today’s outfit?” Glitch asked me with a bit of excitement. Seems as though Glitch likes fashion.

”He never told me what he plans after breakfast so I’ll wear my RAD uniform like it’s a normal school day. And I’ll…” I trailed off thinking of something before smirking. “Glitch you can manipulate NPC actions other than the main cast right…?” I tilted my head smiling.

”Yes I can. But only so much. It had to align with the NPC’s usual actions at least a bit.” I nodded along.

”Okay then do something for me real quick.” I quickly explained to Glitch the general gist of what I needed as I dug through my closet for a pair of flats that could be ran in. I pulled out a pair of shoes that were a dark grey and looked a lot like Devildom equivalent of converse. They had little black bats embroidered along the edge. I nodded in satisfaction laying them on my bed. I also grabbed a pair of black tights instead of fishnets like yesterday. After putting my hair into two pick tails with a grey hair and and getting dressed I was done with my outfit. All that was left was limited makeup that only made my face look a bit younger like an early teen rather than an almost adult one. This would be great for later.

This new plan could truly work out better than my old one. Perhaps I should do something cute for Diavolo later as a thank you? “Showtime Glitch.”

Lucifer’s POV:

I heard a knock at my door and tried to smile a bit to seem more approachable before slightly yelling out, “Enter.” My eyes softened a bit as (Y/N) entered shyly. “Sit down.”

She nodded quickly gazing at the ground at her feet as she sat across from me. I pushed one of the plates in front of her before speaking again. “Eat.” She picked up a fork before taking a bite of the scrambled eggs I made which made me chuckle a bit when her eyes widened at the taste.

”It’s delicious, thank you Lucifer.” Her voice rang out quietly in my office.

”There’s more in the kitchen for everyone else so don’t worry and eat up as much as you want.” Clearly according to the papers I was shown she can’t be trusted to eat a proper amount without supervision. She’s too forgetful to take care of herself.

She smiled a bit timidly at me before she continued to eat. We sat together in a somewhat awkward environment as we finished eating together.

Once we were done I spoke up. “I’ll put these in the sink while you brush your teeth. Meet me at the front door. Also we’re not going to RAD today so there’s no need to wear your uniform today in case you wanted to change.” I gathered up our plates and walked them to the sink. Once I brushed my teeth as well I waited for her by the door. I glanced at my watch slightly irritated by the delay, but seconds later she arrived quietly in front of me.

She looked adorable in the dress she chose. Her dress went almost to her ankles and had little bats sewn on the hem. “Ready to go?” I held out my arm for her.

”Y-yes.” She almost whispered as she stuttered nervously grabbing onto my arm. I escorted her my car that was waiting in the front drive. I opened up the Porsche’s door for her on the passenger side and chuckled as she looked flabbergasted at the car.

“It’s okay to get inside the car. It can be replaced easily if something happens. If you don’t like this one I can get a different one in less than an hour.” I smirked as she shook her head no frantically.

”Oh no this one is no bother at all!” She panicked cutely as she got inside the car extra carefully. I simply shut her door and went around to the drivers side to get in.

”Don’t forget your seatbelt.” Once we were both buckled in I drove the car out the driveway.

We had about ten minutes before we would reach the HOL’s gate so I had plenty of time to catch up on her interests. “So what kind of theme do you like for your room?” I need to make sure to find out so I can improve hers. What she has now would simply not do. It was an insult to my pride as an older brother for my younger sibling to have such a small and shabby room.

”I like… whatever I can find.” She smiled at me. “It can be so interesting finding new uses for old things. The blanket I’m using now used to be some old curtains I found laying in the attic that I fixed up as a blanket instead. It was so fun to figure out! I needed a new blanket at the time since the one originally in the room no longer fit me anymore once I grew up. I even found the bed I have now up there too. Though it’s hard to find things to repurpose ever since Belphegor decided to use the room as his napping spot. Now all the old stuff has been thrown away so I can’t do much with it anymore.” Her shoulders slouched at the end her tone no longer as excited as it had been about sewing.

My hands clenched the wheel tightly. “Your happy to use such old things? That makes you happy?” My tone came out harsher than I meant which I immediately regretted as she shied away from me a bit. I would apologize but that would make me seem weak. Instead I changed the direction of the conversation a bit. “You’re picking out new stuff for your room today. It’ll all be delivered and set up by the workers tomorrow. Tonight you’ll sleep in my room while I work. Understood?”

”Yes, I understand.” Her voice came out quiet again like earlier which made me regret my earlier tone, but apologies are a sign of weakness and I don’t want her to think I’m weak and can’t protect her.

Part two is not finished yet. This one will likely have a lot of parts since it’s really important to the beginning of the story. Hopefully I will have the other parts completed soon.

Lucifer

~Affection: 37%

“She was starting to get excited and I stupidly ruined it with my tone. But how in Devildom can she be satisfied with such terrible quality in her room. It’s shameful to have one of my little siblings in such a room. It’s an insult to my pride as an older brother and makes it seem like I cannot provide for my younger siblings. It simply has to be changed.”

~Relation- Prideful Older Brother 

~Danger Level- Yellow

[bwabys-scenarios]

Thinking about Yandere!Kurapika discovering a new friend has a bit of a crush on him and using that to his full advantage. He asks to borrow your spare time and abilities, has you do little errands for him, and all he has to do to keep you happy and compliant is pat your head and tell you how good you did.

At first he finds you to just be a useful pawn, someone he can exploit and get rid of if necessary, it’s when he catches himself giving you more affection that necessary and actually enjoying spending time with you that he pauses.

You just finished a job for him, and you come back a little injured. Usually, he’d give you your head pat and hand you some cash to see a healer, but this time he’s panicking. Seeing you injured invokes some primal urge in him to protect you, and instead of the little head pat and soft praise you usually get, he scolds you.

“How reckless can you be!? Do you think the job is worth your life? Don’t you know how devastated I would be if you-“

Oh FUCK.

You sniffle and cry at his scolding, not used to him yelling at you. Usually he’s very soft, knowing that’s the best way to keep you obedient and happy, but now his own emotional attachment to you is causing him to falter. The facade he usually puts up for everyone is starting to crack, and you get a look under the mask.

He looks terrified, looking over your injuries while summoning his Holy Chain to heal you and relieve your pain. Once he’s done, you’re given strict orders to stick by his side while you recover.

He doesn’t send you on any dangerous jobs after this, in fact you find yourself stuck in his apartment hearing him go over his plans nearly every day. You like spending time with him, of course, but eventually you feel like a puppy on a leash.

“Kurapika, why can’t I go with the Melody and Leorio? My ability would be of use in-“

“Because it’s dangerous!”

This was the second time he ever yelled at you, making you flinch and look away. You didn’t like when he raised his voice, the blonde usually being soft spoken with you. “(Name)…”

He sighs, setting his cup of coffee down. “I told you before, didn’t I? Your help is needed here, not in the field. I need you by my side.”

Kurapika felt a little bad using your feelings for him to his own advantage now that he truly cared for you, but the way you blushed and leaned into his gently touch was enough to stave off his guilt.

“I’m just keeping you safe, (Name). You know that, right? I would never do anything to hurt you…”

Eventually he has you in the palm of his hand, keeping you attached to his hip at all times. You don’t eat, sleep, drink, or shower without him. The blonde hadn’t made any advances on you, even when the two of you showered together. “It’s safer this way, what if you were attacked in the nude?”

The truth was that he was getting clingy, more needy and paranoid by the day. The fear of losing you was making his already paranoid mind sick with worry any time you were out of his sight. He had lost almost every other important person in his life, Kurapika couldn’t stand living without you.

Your affection, the way you smiled when you looked at him, your love and loyalty, he loved it all. And with a little more pushing, he was eventually able to convince you to move in with him, even slipping a ring on your finger while confessing his feelings. It came out of left field, but you were too flustered and in love with him to say no.

It didn’t take long for talks of children and moving far away from anyone you knew began, and before you knew it the two of you were married and in a different country, your belly swelling with his child.

You were stuck with him now, and he was never letting you go. Kurapika can’t lose another person, especially not you.

[ourpickwickclub]

GR’s undies being in a tight bundy over Zuma’s country music interest is very intriguing to me, but I hope he does his sulking in private and not at Zuma’s expense. I’m even more excited for what it means for Zuma and Blake’s relationship. Without Blake, Zuma would likely never have developed his talent and passion so young. It must make Blake’s heart burst to have had such a big influence on Zuma and now be able to share something so meaningful to him. I’ve always thought that when this family got together, magic happened. They fit together so beautifully!

King staying at GR’s is no surprise to me. I think some even called it here long ago. As a person new to adulthood, he’s naturally going to gravitate towards the long leash and more permissive parent, but I’d put big money on him finding his way back to all the amazing foundational love, support and structure put in place by B &G. The last few weeks we’ve had glimpses of A getting to meet his football heroes and now Z playing again at Ole Red. It’s all got to drive GR nuts and his permissive parenting style is all he’s got. But parenting is so much more than these opportunities- it’s complex and very time consuming. GR is not up to any of that and that’s the real difference. Even if he’s temporarily hoodwinked King, it’s a fair bet that he’ll screw that up-given his track record 🙄

A lot of times narcissists have a child they make into a sort of black sheep or a scapegoat. Z being the least like GR, may be that child. GR may have actually driven Z closer to B & G this way, but I’m just hypothesizing. Z seems like he has always had a strong bond with Blake. Blake came in with full and unconditional love and he is light and fun. Z seems to be similar. Hopefully, GR only gives Z enough dysfunction to write some kickass country sad songs. Ha ha.

- B

[thegreatestloverofall]

@bambisturnioloalt 𝐧𝐨 𝐧𝐮𝐭 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨'𝐬

hello my lovley’s! This is my no nut November post for @bambisturnioloalt's November Calendar. Since it's Christmas in a month and a bit, I decided to make a cute little one shot. I took inspiration from a movie I watched when i was 7-8 years old and added a bit of fantasy into here. I hope you enjoy<3 (please re-blog and like if you liked the story!)

-

Characters:

Linsey Sturniolo-youngest daughter

Chris Sturniolo-triplet

Matt Sturniolo-triplet

Nick Sturniolo-triplet

MaryLou-mom

Jimmy Sturniolo-dad

Justin Carey-oldest brother

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It was a cold winter’s day, snow was falling, kids were laughing, and the Sturniolo family was sleeping peacefully when suddenly Trev, their adorable dog, started barking for an unknown reason. Linsey, a 16-year-old girl with undeniable sass and a sarcastic nature, rose from her bed in a lazy but annoyed manner, checking why Trevor was making such deafening noises at 9 a.m. “Trevor, what the fli—” Linsey whispered, not wanting to awake the sleeping triplets from their comfy bedrooms. Trevor, on the other hand, couldn’t give a damn about the moody triplets and kept making an alarming amount of noise. “Trevor, quiet down for God’s sake!” Linsey insisted, wanting the dog to shut up before she got blamed for everyone's sleepless morning. On the brink of insanity, Nick finally woke up, wondering why the small canine kept making Linsey upset.

“What’s happening here?” Nick mumbled to Linsey, still half-asleep.

“Your dog keeps making an alarming amount of noise for something so small—” Linsey complained as she turned the coffee machine on.

Nick sat down at the countertop, holding Trev protectively, like a mother would hold her child. “He needs to take a turd, you idiot—” Nick chuckled a bit. He stood up and headed to the doorway, grabbing his and Linsey’s jackets. “Come on, let’s go outside before Mom and Dad wake up. I wanna see the snow.”

Linsey rolled her eyes, reluctantly pulling on her jacket and beanie. The siblings put on their matching Uggs, unknowingly twinning, and headed out into the frosty morning.

The world outside looked like a Christmas card. Snow covered everything, icicles dangled from the rooftops, and the air smelled crisp and clean. Trev pranced happily in the snow as Nick breathed in the chilly air.

“Why are you so happy about this?” Linsey grumbled, pulling her beanie down over her ears.

“Because it’s Christmas Eve, and the snow makes everything feel festive,” Nick replied. “Maybe if you weren’t such a grinch, you’d get it.”

“I’m not a grinch. I’m just cold and tired,” Linsey shot back.

Before they could bicker further, Trev froze, his ears perking up as he stared toward the woods behind their house. Without warning, he bolted, yanking the leash out of Nick’s hand.

“Trev! Get back here!” Nick shouted, running after him.

Linsey groaned but followed, grumbling about how much she hated the cold. They chased the little dog through the snow until he stopped in front of a half-buried object near the woods. “What is it, boy?” Nick asked, crouching down. He brushed the snow away, revealing a small silver box with an intricate design etched onto the lid.

“Great. All this for some old box?” Linsey said, folding her arms.

“It looks cool,” Nick said, picking it up. “I wonder what’s inside.”

“Probably nothing. Let’s go back inside before my fingers fall off,” Linsey said.

Back in the warmth of the house, the rest of the family was awake and gathered in the kitchen. Chris and Matt were munching on Christmas cookies, Marylou was humming carols while making hot cocoa, and Jimmy was arranging presents under the tree.

“What’s that?” Chris asked when he noticed the box in Nick’s hands.

“Trev found it in the woods,” Nick said, placing it on the table. “It’s probably just junk,” Linsey added, grabbing a cookie. Jimmy picked up the box, examining it closely. “It doesn’t look like junk. This is old—really old.” Marylou leaned over to look at the box. “The design on top looks like a snowflake, but not like any I’ve ever seen. Maybe it’s an antique.”

“Open it!” Matt said eagerly.

Nick worked on the tiny latch, eventually prying it open with a paperclip. Inside, they found a folded piece of parchment and a small key. The parchment was faded, the words barely legible.

“Read it,” Chris said, leaning in. Nick held it up and began to read. “‘To whomever finds this: the key unlocks the door beneath the old oak tree. Inside lies a gift for those with pure hearts. Use it wisely, and may the magic of Christmas guide you.’” Everyone stared at the parchment in silence. “It’s gotta be a joke,” Linsey said, breaking the quiet.

“What if it’s not?” Matt asked, his eyes wide. “What if it’s, like, actual Christmas magic?” “Only one way to find out,” Nick said, grabbing his coat again.

The whole family bundled up and followed Nick and Linsey to the woods. Trev trotted along, wagging his tail as if he knew exactly where they were going. When they reached the old oak tree, Nick crouched down and cleared away the snow at its base. Sure enough, there was a small, hidden door embedded in the trunk. “No way,” Chris whispered. Nick fit the key into the lock and turned it. The door creaked open, revealing a small compartment. Inside was a beautifully wrapped present with a golden ribbon.

What’s in it?” Matt asked, barely able to contain his excitement. Nick carefully unwrapped the gift, revealing a small snow globe. Inside, a miniature version of their house was surrounded by tiny falling snowflakes.

“That’s...unexpected,” Linsey said, tilting her head. Jimmy picked up the snow globe, turning it over in his hands. “Look closer.” Inside the globe, the tiny figures of the Sturniolo family could be seen. They were laughing, exchanging gifts, and sitting around a crackling fire.

“That’s us,” Marylou said softly. As they stood there, a warm glow surrounded the globe, and a soft tinkling sound filled the air. For a moment, everyone felt a deep sense of joy and love, the kind that only came from being together at Christmas.

Linsey blinked, suddenly feeling less annoyed about the morning’s chaos. “Okay, maybe this is kind of magical.” The family returned home, placing the snow globe on the mantel above the fireplace. It became the centerpiece of their Christmas decorations and a reminder that the best gifts weren’t always the ones wrapped in shiny paper—they were the moments they shared with each other. And as they gathered around the tree that evening, sipping hot cocoa and laughing, Linsey couldn’t help but smile.

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this story took so long to think of so sorry if its rushed at the end😭, if you liked PLEASEE reblog and like it, it helps a ton<3

taglist: @tillies33ssss@christhopersturniolo@klaus223492

[sunsbleeding]

“I think I’ll just stay with her till I get my birthday presents”, she laughs, sounding more pig than human. I nod along as she continues, “she such a freak she just stares at the wall all day”, I bite my tongue, because saying the wrong thing would get her all despondent and quiet. Agree or be ignored, just like the shadow of my mother and her silent treatments.

But the thing is I used to just stare at the wall all day too, for whole weeks actually. I’d be so depressed that the heaviness in my stomach would anchor me to my bedspread; nothing to do but watch the sun change shape over the walls as it sank. I did this in high school a few months before the hazy night my life was supposed to end. The EMTs refused to let me choose though. Stuffed my soul back in my body and wiped vomit off my face and chest with those cheap paper towels you usually only find in gas station bathrooms.

When we talked ill of her girlfriend I should have said “well you’re using her, you’re manipulating her, you don’t respect her boundaries, you date a wizard created by a terf in your head, and to top it all off you’re in love with a man that lives in LA, for God sakes you write poetry about him for her to see (and laugh when it’s the only poem she doesn’t heart), you make out with me and tell me not to tell her, you can keep her on a leash if she doesn’t know you lie”

So you go, scurry on putrid rat and tell MY stories to your “friends” but boy do I have tales to tell about you, and none of them are even remotely funny or interesting or complex, because you are not any of those things. The stories are just snippets of a girl who was and always will be a boring beige wall of a person, spineless, dreamless, talentless and going nowhere bright. Couldn’t even sign up for university classes properly my ass, you’re just too lazy with a lack of comprehension or a knack for learning about anything that matters. I went through all of university without the money for therapy, without meds for my anxiety or depression, or a diagnosis for my ADHD. You have all the help in the world afforded to you and you still choose to do nothing with your life. Pathetic. You wouldn’t have enough time to read fan fiction anyways so it’s better you just study that, since it’s the only thing you’re remotely good at.

You tell them about your addict, child molested, depressed ex-best friend, who’s seen the world, experienced so much life, built a dream into something tangible, made money you took full advantage of, finished university (it’s not for everyone and that’s okay but let’s be honest you’d rather read smut some horny weirdo on the internet made up than learn about anything real, meaningful or socially relevant).

This all has taught me that I have real friends and supporters in my circle, I have people that’ll sit with me in the bathroom while I’m having a panic attacks. Celebrate being even five days clean. Ask me if I’m okay if I look spaced out (dissociating is something I deal with).

Because of this I remembered I have passions, and taste, and empathy (the word you skipped when you were reading the dictionary). I’ll tell them about you, a waste of space nobody who feeds off the energies of the pretty or cool or interesting girls around her because she hasn’t got a thing going for herself. I have pity for the things you went through but you can only use your trauma as an excuse to be a bad person for so long…. You are a mooch, a liar, a dull woman with the media literacy of an incel and the brainpower of a rock. (Maybe you did do too many whippets in LA smh)

Having a best friend is awesome, having any type of relationship with a delusional psycho narcissist is something I’m done with.