#i'm being so serious when I tell you to heed the warnings

[turtlecleric]

Bay!Raph x Reader; heavy angst; reader in peril; lots of hurt and very little comfort, if any; to be clear, Raph is not the bad guy in this one

CWs: graphic, drawn out sexual assault/non con, kidnapping, almost torture, non con choking/breath play and filming, murder, death, gore, seriously this is dark dark dark PLEASE don’t read if these topics are even slightly upsetting to you, reader has a terrible terrible time

-

They've got you tied up too well. You can't pull away, can't do anything but strain against the ropes uselessly. Your shoulders are already sore from the way your arms are secured behind your back. Your thighs are bound to your calves, so even if you did manage to pull away you wouldn’t be able to run. 

You can't stop shaking. You don't know why that fills you with so much shame.

The one behind you presses a kiss onto your shoulder. You lean away from him as far as you can, but he’s got you sitting in his lap and he’s perched on the edge of the bed, so you can’t go far without falling face first onto the dirty carpet of the motel room. Regardless, his hand curls around your jaw, tilting your head back and pulling you flush against him. He holds you there, your arms stuck between your back and his front, the back of your head pressed uncomfortably against his shoulder. Your skin crawls at the feeling of his lips against your neck, but when you squirm it only makes him hum into your skin appreciatively.

You try to remember what the guys have told you about being in this sort of situation, but… there’s only bits and pieces. Honestly, you hadn’t thought you would ever be in this sort of situation, despite their warnings. Despite Raph’s warnings.

You should’ve listened a bit more carefully. Then again, you woke up here. You don’t remember how you ended up with these guys, so… you don’t know what you could’ve done to avoid this. 

“Pretty, isn't she?” the one behind says.

“Too pretty to be a mutant's slut, that's for sure.”

Your eye is drawn to the one who responded, the tall blond that’s been rummaging around in the duffel bag on the opposite bed. It’s the first time you’ve heard him speak, and something about his voice - something you can’t put a name to - makes alarm bells sound in your head. Then he turns, and when you see what he’s holding your blood turns to ice.

A small remote. And a video camera.

The blond steps toward you, fiddling with the buttons on the remote and muttering something you can’t parse over the harsh breathing in your ear. The vibrator they've strapped to you turns on suddenly, and when you jolt and gasp the one behind you laughs, his breath hot against your neck. 

The blond towers over you, pointing the camera down at your face where it’s still held in place by the grip on your jaw. You can see the little red light that means it’s recording. “What was the freak’s name again?”

“Raphael,” the one behind says, a smile in his voice.

“That's right. Say hello to Raphael, baby. We're sending him a copy of this when we're through.”

Your eyes widen at that, and the blond huffs in amusement. He says something else, but you don’t catch any of it, too busy thinking about the fact that Raphael is going to see you naked and tied up in the arms of another man, he’s going to see whatever happens here, he’s going to see and hear and he’s going to-

The one behind you releases your jaw. He shifts you in his lap and holds your legs open, and the camera is aimed at the place between your legs. You can’t help the small “no” that slips from your mouth, the instinctual spasm of muscle as you try in vain to close your legs. 

“Don’t worry, pretty thing,” the blond says, reaching out his free hand to trail his fingers along your inner thigh. You’re still shaking. You hope it’s not visible on the camera. “We’re gonna have some fun.” 

No no no no no no no.

Your body flashes hot as your breathing picks up, as your eyes start to burn with tears. The blond makes a fake sound of sympathy before pushing two fingers inside you. The sudden, sharp pain makes you choke on an inhale, and you can’t help but whimper and squirm as he starts to pump them in and out. 

Fuck. Fuck. It hurts.

“Just like that,” he mutters. “Let him hear what we’re doing to you.” Your mind races, trying to think of something you can do. There has to be something. You can’t let them win. (Haven’t they already, though?) Maybe you can just- you can just try to minimize the impact of it all somehow. Yes, okay. You can do that. 

You press your lips together, trying to keep quiet. Trying to keep still. The blond must catch on, because he makes another sound - this one of disappointment - before he pulls his fingers out of you and stares down at you with a blank face. 

You don’t want to look at him. You don’t want to look at the camera that’s now aimed back at your face. You don’t want to look at anything in this dingy motel room, actually - so you close your eyes and try to imagine that you’re anywhere but here. There’s shuffling. Movement. You think of the last time you saw the guys. Game night. You’d won almost every time, and Leo had been so-

The clink of a belt shatters that thought. Your eyes fly back open to see the blond pull out his cock, already hard and leaking. He tilts his head at you, the corners of his lips pulling up into a smile, and aims the camera back between your legs. Your eyes grow impossibly wider and you open your mouth, but before you can speak he shoves his entire length inside of you in a quick thrust. You can’t help the scream that claws its way out of your throat - or any of the sounds that come after as he starts to pump in and out, in and out, in and out. 

You’ve never felt pain like this. Burning, sharp, raw - it hurts. Fuck, it hurts so much more than you could ever have imagined. And everything, every sensation, it’s too much. The hands palming at your chest, the lips on your neck, the constant painful drag as this stranger fucks you, the vibrator that does nothing to make any of this feel remotely good. Too much, it’s all too much. It hurts. It hurts, and you can’t stop crying, and Raphael is going to see this.

“Such a pretty little thing,” the one behind you murmurs into your neck. His breath ghosts along your skin, making you shiver with disgust; it smells of cigarettes and rot. “Bet she’s nice and tight, yeah?”

The one with the camera groans, thrusting into you faster. His voice is low and breathy when he speaks again. “If she comes on my cock that means she likes it, right? How would that feel, Raphael? Knowing that I made your little whore come for me?”

“Please,” you whimper. “Please stop.”

A hand presses over your mouth. “Shhh, it's okay, baby. We're gonna take care of you. And when we're done, the rest of the dragons will get a turn while we wait for loverboy to get his little gift.”

The words take a moment to sink in, but once they do your panic skyrockets. They're laughing, god, they're laughing while your heart threatens to beat right out of your chest, while this fucker's dick spears into you like a knife. It hurts. You can't focus. You can't think. You can't breathe.

You actually can't breathe, you realize belatedly. The one behind has your mouth and nose completely covered. Your struggling renews, more frantic this time, and again you hear laughter. Your pulse is a rapid, wild thing, and the pressure in your lungs, in your head, is all you can focus on. Your lungs are burning. Fuck, your head is going to explode. Maybe it already has, with these white dots sparkling in your vision. You keep trying to pull away, to move your head so that you can get even a tiny bit of access to air, but it's useless. Everything hurts, and they're laughing, and you can't fucking breathe. 

Are they… they're going to kill you. They're actually going to kill you, on camera, and then they're going to send the video to Raph while the rest of the Purple Dragons do whatever they want with your fucking body, and there's nothing you can do to stop it. 

You're going to die. You're going to die. You're-

The hand finally releases your face, and you gasp for air, desperately filling your lungs with blissful, sweet oxygen at last. They're still talking, but you can't make out the words. You can't. You can only focus on breathing, barely conscious of the pathetic wheezing sobs that are punching out of your chest. 

There's a rough tapping against your cheek. The one fucking you, he's talking to you now. You try to focus on what you're seeing, what you're hearing. The blond. He's talking to you. Focus. 

“-nt to breathe, baby? Huh? Alright, you get one: I'll let you breathe or I'll stop fucking you. Your choice.”

That's not a choice, you think blearily. He's just trying to get a rise out of Raph. He'll say something about how you want this, since you asked to breathe. 

Fuck that. 

You know you're going to regret this. You know. But suddenly rage swells in your chest and-

“I want you to stop fucking me, you piece of shit.” Surprise blooms across his face right before you spit in it, glaring with everything in you as he looks down at you in shock. A second passes, then his shock is replaced by fury as he wipes the spit from his cheek. 

He slaps you so hard your ears ring. The force jerks your head to the side, but then there's a hand covering your mouth and nose again. It's him, this time, and he pounds into you with renewed vigor. 

“You're getting fucked either way, princess,” he snarls. “You should've been smart and taken the out.” 

The seconds feel like hours as your lungs burn. Your torso spasms, the muscles in your arms struggling uselessly against the restraints. More laughter. More talking. He's still fucking you so hard your entire body is jolting with each thrust, but other than that you can't make sense of anything through the panic and the burning and the constant, desperate need for air. 

You're on the verge of passing out, you're sure, when they let you breathe again. Dizzy, exhausted, you beg for them to stop. Your own voice sounds garbled and strange. You don't even care what you sound like, everything fucking hurts. 

Again, his hand covers your mouth and nose. Again, you feel as if you’re dying. Again, he waits until you’re sure you’re going to die before he lets you breathe.

Pathetic, you hear, but you aren't sure if that's them or your own mind. 

Talking. He’s talking to you again. You try to focus, but you can’t. 

The hand returns.

On and on and on, again and again and again. Everything is awful, everything hurts, and sometimes you’re breathing, but most of the time there’s just the burning burning burning in your lungs, in your core, in your everything, everywhere, it’s too much and it hurts and you just want it to stop.

At some point the men switch. At some point they switch back. At some point you’re lifted, then placed onto the bed on your back. 

You can breathe, though, and that’s what matters. 

There’s more talking. Everything is blurry. Everything hurts. Too much. It’s too much. You can’t. Stop. Shaking.

Focus. Focus. 

The blond hovers over you, thrusting lazily into you. Where is…? You let your head fall to the side and see him. The other one. He’s sitting on the opposite bed, now in charge of filming, apparently. A hand grips your jaw, turning your face back toward the one hovering over you. “You keep your eyes on me, slut,” he says in a low voice. “Keep your eyes on me and I’ll let you breathe this time, okay?”

You don’t get a chance to respond.

Several things happen at once. First, there’s a loud BANG, accompanied by more light spilling into the room. Next, you see a weapon lodge itself directly into the neck of the man above you with a disgusting, wet sound. You have just enough time to recognize the weapon as a sai before the blond releases your jaw, reaching for his own neck. His hands hover in the air, unsure. It’s as he’s staring into your eyes - his face growing redder by the second, his torso spasming, guttural, wheezing sounds coming from his throat - that you realize the irony.

He can’t breathe.

More sound to your left. There’s a blur of movement that you can’t make sense of. You can’t tell what’s happening - and then suddenly the blond is gone. You don’t even know where he went, but he isn’t on top of you anymore. He isn’t inside of you anymore. There’s a series of thuds. Grunts. Visceral crunches and the sound of splatters and- you don’t know, you don’t know, you can’t tell what’s happening.

“Raph, enough!”

Raph. Raph is here. And Leo, too, that’s who said that. You try to look around, but you… can’t. You can’t get your muscles to cooperate. You can only let your head fall to the side, and you see the man’s body sprawled on the opposite bed. Not the blond, the other one. His… his head. It’s gone. Blood is spraying out of his neck in spurts, soaking into the sheets of the bed, and you don’t know why, you don’t know why, but you feel like you can’t breathe again. 

You close your eyes, but it does nothing to erase the sight of the decapitated man. He’s still got the camera in his hand. 

There’s more talking. This time, though… it’s familiar. Arguing, sure, and pretty much yelling rather than talking, but still. The sound of it helps you to breathe a little slower. 

Someone says your name. Soft, and sad, and quiet. You open your eyes to see Donnie’s face, his eyes wide and worried. What is he worried about? Maybe you can help.

Oh. Right. 

What’s wrong with you?

You try to smile at him, but his expression twists into something that makes your smile drop. You feel more than see him releasing you from the restraints. The relief in your sore muscles is overwhelming, but… you’re feeling a bit strange, actually. “Donnie,” you whisper. “What’s wrong with me?”

He responds, but you… aren’t sure what he said. You can’t keep your eyes open. That’s odd, right? Maybe you should be… more worried about that. 

“Where’s Raph?” you ask. 

You don’t know what the words are, but you hear Raph’s response. He’s here. He’s here, and… it’s going to be okay now. It’s going to be okay now. Right?

“Yeah, shorty,” someone says. Not someone. Raph. Wait, Raph is here? He sounds… devastated. What’s going on? “It’s gonna be okay. I’ve got you.”

[joosthead]

We need more bottom joost content im so fucking serious…I need subby joost or I’ll explode RAUGHHHHHH

FUCK i love a subby man ... i fully agree we need more subby joost bc just look at him. guhh . anyways hope you enjoy these thoughts teehee it's genuinely filthy pls heed my warnings. also i'm unsure honestly if this is subby more than it is about edging and overstim but . send me another ask w more thoughts if you'd like something different as well < 3

₊˚⊹⋆ reader: nb!reader. lmk if i missed something and it's not nb, i will change accordingly!!

₊˚⊹⋆ cw: smut (unprotected sex, edging & overstim m!receiving), drunk sex (both drunk, but this is where edging comes in). send an ask if you need more details about this part <3

rpf ahead—don't like it, don't read it!! you've been warned. do not repost this on any other platform.

18+ only — explicit rpf content ahead, minors dni.

in general i feel like so much of his vibe is so pillow princey. he loooveess to lie down and take whatever you'll give him

he generally is a tease and loves being teased, and i think this is a huge part of his submissiveness—i won't pretend like i think he's the biggest subbiest sub ever with how fluid he is but i do think in every session together, he lurvsss some teasing and edging.

absolutely adores a handjob w edging. sunday morning and he's so so hard cuz he just woke up that way and he has to wake u up. you roll over and you're like "are you actually serious?" but you're not gonna let your baby suffer (and you tell him such, which makes him even harder). he doesn't know what's gotten into him—he's usually much stronger than this, usually the one pampering you, making you ask for it, but he fully turns so whiny when like this. in minutes, you have him moaning like a bitch, teasing him with your tongue but never actually taking him into your mouth; when he gets close, you cease your stroking of his cock, and watch as it's like his entire body reacts to it, and hear how labored and heavy his breathing gets when you've brought him to the precipice, but never over. a beautiful sight, his pink cheeks amidst his pale skin, the rosy color creeping down his neck and his chest and the leaking angry pink tip of his cock, wet and slick as you stroke him to completion.

loves being taken care of fsfs. being called pretty, handsome, pretty boy (this one especially). it's so serious for him. loves getting his ego stroked in all ways possible, but especially if he's on his knees for you.

it really never happens except for when you're drunk but. he fucking loves when ur both sloppy drunk and all you can really think is your own pleasure. there was one time you two came home from the club, kissed all the way up the stairs, you palming him through his jeans the entire way; then the moment you got him laid down on the bed, you rode him, got off, rolled over, and went to sleep. he had to jerk off by himself to get the edge off, looking at you next to him on the bed the whole time. in the moment, it was very (sad violin noises) but looking back on it—that drunk and frenzied look in your eyes, almost like you didn't care about him or his pleasure...it was so hot and a little part of him felt ashamed for thinking so.

but the shame never sticks around too often, never lingers. he knows you care about him, knows that it was just a symptom of one too many drinks and his hands exploring your body (i.e. your hips and ass) the entire night to make you use him the way you did.

drunk or not, i think his favorite occurrence is when you're riding him and he just gets to watch you lose it atop him, grinding back and forth on it. it may not be the most stimulating for him specifically. but seeing you use him, the only thought in your mind your own pleasure—he really loves it.

i don't think he'd be into being edged when you're actually fucking—the better alternative to being used like a toy is overstimulation. when he cums before you, there's something in his head that insists that he has to make you cum one more time before he can rest. then you say, "please, just a little more, joost," and he knows he has to do it. strangled, he says, "i can't, i can't do it anymore, schat," but he knows he should, sloppily thrusting into you before he gets soft, the pain of the overstimulation completely lost on him in the venture for your own pleasure.

i also have a lot of (good. great even) feelings about joost talking ab liking his ass eaten but idk if i can go that far here yet

i need him

[stinkrascal]

TRANSCRIPT

Breanna: You like to drink, huh? Vladislaus: I was planning to clean... Breanna: Uhuh, I bet. Vladislaus: [ clears throat ] It is no matter, we must continue our training. Breanna: Training? We can't count all that walking we did as training?

Vladislaus: Training one's powers is very different from training one's legs, my dear. Breanna: To be honest, I think I got the hang of it. Vladislaus: What makes you say that? Breanna: I dunno, I just do.

Vladislaus: Very well, then. Perhaps our training can wait. It's dawned upon me I know very little about you. Breanna: I dunno nothing about you.

Vladislaus: Tell me something about yourself. Breanna: You tell me. Vladislaus: About... yourself? Breanna: About you, dumbie. Vladislaus: ...What would you care to know?

Breanna: Where you from? Vladislaus: I can't say. Breanna: What, it's a secret? Vladislaus: I have no memory of my origins. Breanna: Oh. Oopsies. Well I'm from Louisiana, I lived in Evangeline parish most my life.

Vladislaus: What about your family? Breanna: ...What about them? Vladislaus: You must have someone worth mentioning. Breanna: I got a mom and a sister. That's it. Vladislaus: That's it? Breanna: Well, I used to date this one guy... Vladislaus: What of your father? Breanna: He died when I was little.

Vladislaus: I'm sorry. Breanna: It's fine, I don't even think about him honestly. What about you? Do you got any family? Vladislaus: None that I remember.

Vladislaus: I have spent two centuries here. It is only here that I have any meaningful memories. My spawn are my family, now. Caleb, Lilith... and you. Breanna: Huh? Oh. Cool.

Vladislaus: [ chuckles ] Perhaps cool is not the word I would use to describe one losing their memories to the passage of time, but to each their own. Breanna: Nah dude, I hope I lose every last one.

Vladislaus: You say this, but when your past begins to feel like a distant dream, I think you will feel differently.

Breanna: I think you got a big fuckin' head.

Vladislaus: All I ask is you pace yourself. The transition from human to vampire is more overwhelming than you give credit.

Breanna: I'm being careful, you don't have to remind me. I'm not stupid.

Vladislaus: I am urging caution, that is all. I realize your quick progress has emboldened you, but that is all the more reason to heed my warning, girl.

Vladislaus: You cut it very close today. Breanna: ...It really was an accident. Vladislaus: I never said it wasn't.

Vladislaus: You are only a fledgling. Of course, it is so that your powers... escape you at times. That is why I urge you to be cautious, my dear.

Vladislaus: [ snickers ] And that is why we have a rigorous training routine! Breanna: Rigorous, my ass. We haven't done shit today. Vladislaus: Nothing escapes you.

Breanna: Uhuh. You're alright Mr. Straud. Vladislaus: Vladislaus, please. Breanna: My momma always told me to respect my elders. Vladislaus: Thank you for that. Breanna: So how old are you anyways?

Vladislaus: [ sighs ] Old enough to know better. Breanna: I'm 21 by the way. Vladislaus: Good to know. Breanna: So you're like 30? Vladislaus: Is that a serious question?

Breanna: Yes? Vladislaus: I am well over two centuries old, my dear. Breanna: Oh. I meant, like, your body. Vladislaus: Isn't it rude to pry a man about his age? Breanna: That's only for women dumbass.

Vladislaus: Where do you think you're going? Breanna: Oh, nowhere. Just going to find Lily. I gotta ask her something important. Vladislaus: Have you forgotten your training? Breanna: We're vampires, why would we train in the sun?

Breanna: Shouldn't we train at night? Vladislaus: I hear your point. Breanna: It's pretty sad you need me to tell you how to do your job dude. Vladislaus: It is, isn't it?

Vladislaus: Farewell, little creature. Stay out of trouble. Breanna: Always!! ❤

[lancermylove]

Adopted by the Demon Bros (Scenarios)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland, Obey Me

Pairing: All dorms with gn!Reader. Featuring the demon brothers.

Warning: None

Requested by: @animealways

Prompt: obey me x twisted wonderland Headcanon for all the characters finding out yuu is adopted by the demon brothers (adeuce and grimm face realizing they have been getting the literall devil child in trouble day in and out/everyone els who had a overblote being like "oh shit i attacked a literall demon kid" 😂) 

A/N: The HCs ended up turning into this chaotic mess. 😂

———————————————

Ruggie couldn't stop laughing. Adopted by demons? Sure, you were. Just like he was the King of Sunset Savana. Leona ignored your statement while Jack brushed it off as a joke.

"I'm being serious! Look!" You shuffled through your phone's gallery to find your birthday celebration video. "See!"

The three men silently watched the video, and Ruggie was the first to speak. "They're just wearing costumes. You ain't fooling anyone."

You gripped your phone in frustration before yelling, "Fine." Which brother to summon? Calling Lucifer or Satan was out of the question; calling Asmo would be risky as he would find the Savanaclaw members attractive and possibly charm them; calling Levi or Belphie would result in chaos, so that felt Mammon or Beel.

You closed your eyes and began chanting a spell. Jack and Ruggie didn't react, but Leona's ears perked up as his muscles tensed. "Heed my call and come forth Mammon!"

The second brother appeared out of thin air. Jack started to growl, Ruggie's ears lowered as he backed away, and Leona maintained his composure but kept his guard up. When he saw the men, Mammon immediately pulled you into a protective hug. "Who are they? Are they tryin' to hurt ya, (y/n)?"

"Nope! Mammon, I want you to meet my friends. The princely prick is Leona, the clueless but sweet musclehead is Jack, and the ever-hungry hyena is Ruggie," you giggled. "So guys do you believe me now? I am adopted by the seven demons~ also known as the Seven Rulers of Devildom."

From that day on, Leona never picked on you but didn't let you get away with calling him a prick. Ruggie never played around with you nor tricked you into doing anything, and Jack was cautious around you.

Lilia and Malleus chuckled and thought you were trying to tease Sebek with your statement. Silver stood beside his father in silence as he tried to study your expressions. He was the only one who didn't think you were joking.

"Human! Do you believe I, Sebek, would fall for your tricks?"

His tone was firm and loud, as usual, but you also felt a sense of mockery. Yes, what you said would have been hard to believe if you were in a world filled with only humans, but in front of you were two and a half faes. Out of them, one could turn into a dragon.

"I am telling the truth! I am adopted by demons," you frowned.

"Demons don't exist," he said while rolling his eyes.

"Sebek, you are part fae. Lilia and Malleus are faes. Malleus has dragon horns...and Silver is a human adopted by Lilia, a fae," your frown grew deeper. "So why is it so hard to believe my family members are demons."

"You are lying, and I will not allow you to speak a lie in front of the future king of Briar Valley!"

You were at your limits, and without saying a word, you took out the wand Solomon gifted you and wildly waved your arm with the tip pointing to the ground. In a few seconds, a large circle with an intricate pattern appeared on the floor. Much to the Diasomnia members' shock, the magic formation glowed red, and suffocating dark energy poured into the room.

Lilia and Malleus quickly used their magic to suppress the formation and stop the entity you were attempting to summon. Sebek was speechless, and Silver was stunned yet amazed. Before any of them could say a word, your phone rang.

"Hey, Lucifer!" You emphasized his name more and chuckled, "Everything is okay. I wanted to introduce you to my friends because they didn't believe me when I said demons exist. Okay, I will take care, and yes, I am eating properly...and focusing on my studies. Love you too! Bye."

You slid your phone into your jacket pocket and looked at the four students. Their faces were pallid, and they only stared at you with wide eyes. Feeling like you got the last laugh, you playfully smiled and poked them for the final time. "Why do all of you guys look like you saw a ghost?"

"You are...what?" Idia asked.

"Adopted by a family of demons. Seven demons, to be exact," you smiled.

He blankly stared, but before the silence could get uncomfortable, Idia said, "So lemme guess. The oldest brother comes off as cold, cruel, and arrogant but is caring and misunderstood. Not that he cares. The second brother is the family joker, comes off as rude, but is the kindest one - always lookin' out for his brothers. The third brother is a shut-in otaku who is also a gamer and thinks badly about himself...but all he wants is someone to understand and love him."

Ortho didn't think his brother could talk so much in one go, but Idia continued, "The fourth brother has anger issues and pretends he doesn't care about his brothers. In reality, he does. He also likes reading and cats. The fifth brother is obsessed with his appearance, but his beauty is unparalleled. He's easy to get along with but is very clingy. The sixth brother is a musclehead and has a bottomless appetite. He cares about his family more than anything and will protect them at any cost. The seventh brother sleeps all the time and is spoiled by everyone. He sometimes has a short temper and is intelligent. Then you woke up from your dream and realized it was only a game."

"Running a lie detector scan. Scan completed," Ortho said. "Onii-chan, (y/n) is speaking the truth. They are adopted by demons."

"What's next, Ortho? Her family members' names are Lucifer, Mammon, Levithan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor," Idia sarcastically said.

"Yes," you said in absolute shock.

"What?" Idia questioned.

"Upload (y/n)'s family report from NRC's database. Onii-chan, you are right! Those are the names of the demons," he laughed.

You and Idia stared at each other without moving for hours. Neither one of you could process what just happened. Meanwhile, Ortho read the details of the demon brother's out loud.

"Why are all of you being so mean?" You huffed and crossed your arms.

"Maybe because you said your family is made up of demons?" Ace laughed. "Demons...actually demons? You couldn't think up of anything better?"

"It's okay if you don't want to introduce them to us," Trey sighed.

Deuce felt guilty for laughing at you earlier and apologized, "Sorry. Didn't mean to laugh earlier, but what you said was funny..."

"(Y/n). You look like you are about to cry," Cater chuckled, "and Riddle, why do you look scared?"

"S-Scared? Of what? Demons don't exist...," the house warden said under his breath.

"I was going to ask Asmo or Mammon to come over, but I changed my mind. You guys deserve to meet Lucifer or Satan."

"Lucifer and Satan? Like the literal devils?" Ace laughed harder. "What imaginary world do you live in?"

"Okay, that's it!" You closed your eyes, chanted a few words, and called for Satan. "Come forth and answer my call, Satan!"

Ace and Deuce nearly screamed when a man with horns and a spikey tail appeared beside them, looking confused. He ignored them and looked at you. "(Y/n), why did you summon me? Did something happen? And...who are these men?"

"Satan! These men are being mean to me, and I want you to put curses on them...well, except Riddle...he wasn't mean. Curse Cater, so he can't use his phone all day. Curse Deuce so he can't pick fights with anyone. Curse Trey, so he can't brush his teeth for a few days. Curse Ace, so everyone laughs at him whenever they see him," You g gritted your teeth.

"W-Wait, I need to upload photos daily! I can't disappoint my followers," Cater exclaimed while holding his hands up in defense. "I am sorry for not believing you! By the way, Satan, can I take a picture with you? I need a viral photo."

Satan raised an eyebrow but ignored his request and turned his attention to you. "You call those curses? How about I turn all of them into chihuahuas?"

"Then I would have to take care of them," you vigorously shook your head.

"When they try to talk, they start singing, but their singing sounds like listening to a soundtrack backward?"

"Oh...I like that idea! How about getting Cerberus to chase them around?"

"I can't control Cerberus...only a CERTAIN someone can," Satan frowned. "Making them invisible?"

"They have grades to maintain and will be expelled if they fail. How about bringing them to Devildom? They can see what hell looks like."

As you and Satan threw ideas back and forth, the members of Heartslaybul stood in a corner, huddled up. Your words were enough to make them believe you were being raised by demons - they all made a mental note to never mess with you... ever again.

"No, I am being absolutely serious. Rook, you believe me, right?" Your eyes darted toward the hunter, hoping at least he would back you up.

"I dislike such senseless humor. Kindly stop," Vil politely requested as he glared daggers at you.

"Why would I joke about my family? They really are demons!"

Epel shifted uncomfortably and mumbled, "It ain't nice to call yer family...your family by such a mean name."

"Mean? Epel, just like you are a human. They are demons. That's their race," you pouted. "I am not trying to be mean."

Vil took a few deep breaths to calm himself. He folded his arms across his chest and looked you straight in the eyes, "Very well. Then why not call one of your family members here? I am certain that if they are demons, you can summon them here."

"Oh, then I should call Asmo. He will get along with everyone in Pomefoire."

You closed your eyes and muttered a chant to open a portal for Asmo. You stood with your arms open, expecting the fifth brother to run out of the portal and hug you; instead, you saw Levi step out of the portal and instantly freeze. Seeing unknown people staring at him, the third brother frantically looked for a hiding place. He ran behind you and bent down. "Too many...people..."

"Levi? What are you doing here? I called Asmo."

"I...wanted to see y-you," he shakily whispered.

The members of Pomefiore stared at Levi's tail, not believing what they were seeing. Epel's grandmother always taught him that demons were terrible - creatures of the dark that could hurt and kill, but Levi looked nothing like what she had described. Rook, on the other hand, was fascinated. If he asked you to visit your homeland, would you take him?

"(Y/n). I apologize for my behavior earlier. I did think you were lying, yet you proved me incorrect," he smiled. "Levi, welcome to Pomefiore. My name is Vil Schoenheit, and I am the house warden. Would you like to join us for lunch? We won't bite. I promise."

"Demon?" Azul pondered while pushing his glasses up with the tip of his finger. "Ah, I see."

Jade nodded, "My apologies. Rather unfortunate that we cannot select our family members."

"Cheer up, shrimpy," Floyd added. "You've us."

"What? I'm very confused. Oh, wait. That's not what I meant," you laughed. "I don't mean my family members are demonic. I mean, my family members are actual demons."

"Actual...demons?" The house warden chuckled. "(Y/n). Did Ace accidentally hit your head with a spell drive disc again?"

"I'm being serious! Fine, let me prove it to you. Since you three enjoy tormenting people, its time someone tormented you," a devilish smirk tugged on your lips. "Come forth, Beel! Come forth, Belphie!"

"(Y/n)? Is everything okay?" Beel asked, concerned.

Azul jumped at the sight of their horns while the twins stared in shock and amusement. You quickly took out your phone to secretly record their reaction. "Hi, Beel! Everything is a-okay! Belphie. Beel. Meet Jade and Floyd. They're twins, just like you two. And this is Azul."

Belphie nodded, still half asleep, but Beel was too distracted to reply. The smell of freshly cooked food tickled his nose and drew him towards the Mostro Lounge kitchen.

"By the way, Azul, won't you treat my family to your famous Mostro Lounge menu?"

He noticed a hint of teasing in your voice but didn't think much of it. "Ah, where are my manners? Jade. Floyd. Kindly treat our guests to any food or drink they like."

You smirked, "Payback time."

Since that day, Azul banned you from summoning Beel inside Octavinelle. All the profits he made for the week were devoured by the sixth brother within an hour. Also, the students of Octavinelle thought twice before giving you a hard time.

Jamil shook his head at Kalim's excitement - how could he easily believe your words? He understood you trying to prank Kalim, but did you honestly think he would believe you? Demons don't exist. Wait, did you mean your family was demonic, like evil in nature? That made more sense.

"I wish I could call all of them here, but that would get too chaotic. Let me call the prettiest and easiest one to get along with!" You recited his change and called his name, "Asmodeus, come forth."

Jamil's eyes widened as a gasp escaped his lips, "Wait, why did your chant sound like a real-"

"Sweetie!" Asmo appeared behind you and threw his arms around you. "I missed you so much. Why did you choose to go to a school so far away? I worry about you so much that my skin is feeling the stress. Come back home with me!"

"Sorry, Asmo. I miss you too, but I can't drop out after coming this far. Wait for me a little longer."

"Alright. If that makes you happy, I will wait," he smiled and looked around.

Kalim beamed at him while Jamil stood with his back against the nearest wall, looking like he just saw a ghost. Asmo chuckled, "Sweetie, won't you introduce me to your cute friends?"

"Asmo, this is Kalim, and," you looked at the vice house warden and bit the inside of your lip to suppress your laugh. "That's...Jamil."

"Why do you look frightened? Am I terrifying?" Asmo sulked. "But I am the most beautiful demon alive..."

"You are pretty," Kalim beamed.

"Don't worry about Jamil. He probably has a secret fear of demons," you teased. "He will come around eventually."

———————————————

➣ Twisted Wonderland [1][2] ➣ Obey Me Masterlist: [1][2] ➣ Main Masterlist

➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open || Requests: Closed

[resowrites]

Suspicious Minds - oneshot.

Summary: Henry attempts to put a cot together…

Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x Wife!OC

Warnings: fluff, banter/British humour, language, dialogue heavy, nondescript OC body type/appearance, hastily written/lightly proofread.

WC: 2099

A/N: Remember, this is pure fiction (as in completely made up), and not in any way meant to reflect reality. My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!

Suspicious Minds - oneshot.

The noises from the nursery were growing louder and louder. Eventually, she decided she'd have to go investigate. She pushed back the door to find Henry in the middle of the room, kneeling over a booklet of instructions. Nuts, bolts, and long planks of wood were scattered everywhere. "Good God, it sounded like a gorilla enclosure in here… I'll have to put a picture of you on the wall with all the other animals—"

"I'm trying to put this sodding cot together, okay?! The instructions are a bloody nightmare…"

"Well, can I help? Surely it can't be that difficult, it's only four sides after all."

"No, it's fine. I don't want you doing any lifting—"

"Well that's not like you…" He rolled his eyes.

"Still, I'd rather we erred on the safe side." She huffed and leaned against the wall while Henry muttered to himself. "Take a seat, I want you off your feet."

"Yes, m'lord! Shall I have a kip while I'm at it?" He locked eyes with her again.

"Why, are you feeling tired? Darling you must rest—"

"Henry I was joking! Stop being such a fusspot. And hand me those instructions or they'll have left home by the time you're finished." Henry sighed but handed her them nonetheless. "Right, first thing's first, do we have all the parts?" He cast a glance around him.

"As far as I can tell—"

"Good, now do you understand that a failure to heed the warnings and follow the assembly instructions could cause serious injury and/or death?"

"Will you just get on with it?!"

"Calm your knickers! If you want I'll wait while you go look for a hard hat…" Henry harrumphed. "Okay, so first you're gunna want to attach middle rear leg E to middle panel A1…" She looked at the pieces dotted around his feet. "Those two bits there, you'll also need three fifty-five millimetre bolts—"

"Fifty-five? That can't be right…" He grabbed the booklet from her hands.

"I think you'll find it is. And don't forget the Allen key—"

"Yes, I know that! Bloody woman pointing out the obvious…" Henry mumbled under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, love. Right, what now?" He finished tightening the last screw and awaited the next instruction.

"Okay, you need to insert three wooden dowels into those holes…" Henry looked up and eyed her suggestively. "Oh, stop it! And they need to go there, not in those ones."

"… Are you sure we aren't having sex?" She rolled her eyes.

"Right, you now need to attach slats H through four with five dowels."

"Just five?"

"Yes you gobshite, now do as you're bloody told—" He tutted.

"Fine, where do they need to be slotted?"

"Well bend over and I'll take a look—"

"Lovely, are there any more you want me to stick up there?!"

"Yeah, bars F, G, thirteen, and four need to go on the other side. Come on, shift it, I don't have all day!" Henry scrambled for the right pieces and hammered them into position. "You can also take your tank top off if you want, make things a bit more exciting…"

"I thought you weren't in the mood?"

"Well, it's hardly a turn-on having to tell you what to do—"

"Since when?! And give me that, if you can follow it it should be a piece of piss…"

"Should be but isn't." She bit back a laugh when he looked up at her annoyed.

"Christ, I don't understand any of this… why would the forty-five-millimetre bolts need to go in the back and not the longer ones?"

"Cos longer's usually better?"

"Oh just shut up and hand me six of the M6 bolts please!"

"You sure they're the right ones and not just the ones you want to use? Anyway, you're closer, I thought you didn't want me to lean down?!" Henry huffed. "Nope, those aren't the right ones…" He snapped to his feet.

"Fine! You do it Miss Smart Arse, seeing as I'm the one who apparently can't read instructions—"

"Well are you sure you're reading the English side, not the French?" Henry turned to storm off. "Whoa there Nelly, I was only joking. God, what's gotten into you? Why are you taking this so seriously?"

"Because I want to be able to do as much as I can for you both. It's bad enough I'm already forty—"

"Wait, hang on. What do you mean?" He looked down at the floor, his eyes beginning to well.

"I mean, I'll be an older dad Ollie. I won't get the same amount of time with them as you will…" She tilted her head sadly and cupped Henry's face in her hands. "Then there'll be the times I won't be here and that'll rob me of them even more."

"Oh, darling. Look… nothing in life is promised. What I do know for sure is they'll be surrounded by so much love. You're going to be a fantastic dad, Henry. There's no one else I'd rather have in your place. Well… no one I've met." They smirked at each other.

"You're right. Besides, you could always go first…" She kicked him in the shin.

"As if I'd get that lucky! Remember though, I work for myself and you also have a lot of flexibility. But either way, I'll do everything I can to make sure you get as much time with them as possible. I mean, not too much of course, that would hardly be right…" Henry smiled at her again.

"You'd really do that for me?"

"For the three of us, of course! I don't want you to miss out on them growing up either. We're a team, remember? And baby's not going to change that." He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"You make me so happy." She tutted.

"Soppy bollocks…" But they shared a kiss and Henry held her close, gazing down at the bump hitting his stomach. "I'm sorry, I was just panicking. You're showing now and it's feeling that much more real—"

"I know sweetheart, I worry about what kind of parent I'm going to be as well. But we both learned a lot from our childhoods and I'm sure we'll make the right choices." She gave him another kiss, patted his chest, and smiled. "For now though I think I’ll leave you to it, the instructions just repeat themselves for the next few pages so you should survive…" Henry gave her an anxious look.

"I'm sorry I'm not more handy, either. God, I just don't understand it… I can put a PC together but not a bloody cot!"

"Yeah, cos you're overthinking it! So long as it doesn't collapse inwardly on our child, I can't ask for anymore." He smirked and spanked her backside.

"Go on, get out of here. I'd rather go without your encouragement if that's the best you can do!" She gave Henry a wink and disappeared from the room.

***

"Knock, knock, how are you getting on?" She opened the door to find the cot almost finished. The view of their nearly complete nursery took her breath away. "Wow, I knew you could do it! And it only took the rest of the day…" He tutted as he picked up some spare screws from off the floor. "Seriously though, it looks great, how hard was it in the end?"

"Not bad actually, I mean I almost threw it out of the window at one point, but I made it work."

"Oh, I thought that was one of our neighbour's screaming 'fuck’ at the top of their lungs…" She then eyed the screws in Henry's hand. "How many of those do you have leftover exactly?"

"Not many thank you very much!"

"And they came with the cot didn’t they?"

"Well, where else would they have come from?!"

"Your head maybe?"

"Hysterical. Why don't you come and inspect my handy work if you're that concerned?!" She stepped up to the cot and jiggled several of the bars.

"Mmm, not too far apart, that's good. At least they won't get stuck." He rolled his eyes. "Not sure those drawers are plumb though…"

"What do you mean?! They're dead straight!" But she was too busy testing out one of the dropsides. As soon as she lifted it, it whooshed back into place with a sickening clank.

"Jesus Christ, that could take someone's head off!"

"Well, I followed the pissing instructions! What more can I do?!"

"Build a bloody cot, not a guillotine!" Henry sighed and referred back to the booklet.

"Ah, I see. I haven't lined up these two casings correctly…"

"Well I hope that's the extent of the snags, I'm scared to touch the sodding thing now…" He pursed his lips and before she knew it, she was quickly whipped into the cot.

"There, see! Sound as anything! If it can take you it can take any baby—"

"Henry, will you get me out of here, please?! This whole thing's gunna collapse!"

"Oh shush and go to sleep, or do you need burping?"

"HENRY!!!"

"Alright, alright." He carefully lifted her out and she thwacked his arm the minute her feet hit the ground. "Ow! What was that for?!"

"You know what for, I can't get up as easily anymore!" She pointed at her bump.

"Oh please, you struggled to do that anyway," another thwack landed on Henry's arm.

"Just for that, you're not getting the snack I bought up here."

"What do you mean? What snack?" He sighed and picked up his screwdriver when she walked off. She returned moments later, however, holding a plate piled high with thickly cut sandwiches. Henry's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. "Other than terrorising your pregnant wife and building a death trap, you've done a wonderful job. I'm so proud of you darling and I can't thank you enough, the nursery looks amazing. I can't believe it's finished, are you excited? Before we know it we'll have a little one rolling around in there!" She pointed eagerly toward the tiny mattress.

"I know, the last few months really have flown by. It's going to be so weird having another person in the house!"

"You're telling me, you won't be the loudest, stinkiest one here anymore—" she stopped mid-sentence. "Wait a minute. Is it me, or is the whole thing on the conk?" He quickly stepped into her line of sight.

"Nah, that's just a trick of the light. Well, thanks for the sarnies, you best be getting on—"

"So it is bloody wonky?! I knew it! Did you not put the feet on?" She squatted low to examine the floor.

"Uh-uh, no you don't. Come on, get up please, you know I don't want you in that position—"

"Since when?" Henry rolled his eyes.

"Alright I confess, I haven't attached all the feet just yet as the whole thing was getting a bit heavy—"

"Well let me help--"

"No fucking fear!"

"Oh, Henry I'm not stupid!"

"Well, you could have fooled me! Remember that spice rack you tried to put up? Ten minutes afterward it crash-landed on the oven—"

"Yeah, cos you gave me shit screws - there and elsewhere!" His mouth fell open.

"Well I won't even dignify that with a response—"

"Yeah, cos you don't have one." Henry looked up at the ceiling and tried not to laugh.

"Darling, you can mouth off all you like, this is my job and I'm going to finish it. Now off you fuck."

"Well, what choice do I have…"

"Ollie, will you please just piss off?!"

"Fine! When you're done stuffing your face, come hop in the shower with me…"

"God bless those pregnancy hormones—"

"Oh please! You're just all sweaty, you'll stink up the bed later—"

"Sure. I'm thirsty as well, ya didn't by any chance happen to bring up a lager?" She smiled knowingly and handed him a tall tin can from the pocket of her jumper.

"Trust you to sniff that out. Oh and keep that Allen key handy as well, you can bleed all the radiators once you're finished."

"God, you'll work me to bloody death at this rate!"

"Henry, you've got off easy. You're not the one having to carry another person around, have them squish your organs, go into labour, give birth—"

"No, but I'm still having to hear all about it!" Her eyebrows hit the ceiling. "I'm kidding, if you're that helpless, go get all soaped up and I'll be in to scrub your back…" Henry spanked her backside once more and she walked off holding up her middle finger.

To be updated on when I post please follow @resowrites and turn on post notifications.

@elizabetharegina @fanfictionaddiction99 @luclittlepond @caffeinatedfestivalsheep @summersong69 @ushijimbo @livesinfantasyland @jackjanira

[aerkame]

I will no longer write for other AUs for Welcome Home (please read in full)

TW: Mentions of NSFW/pedos

I know some people only followed me because of a fic or two I might have started writing on for another Welcome Home AU, but recently I have started to notice the increasing toxicity of the fandom overall. Yeah, I've been other fandoms I know there is toxicity and I know there's a lot of nice people in this fandom, but I have NEVER seen it this bad. Out of all the fandoms/fanbases that I have been in, I have never seen such a huge problem regarding pedos, NSFW art/writing being shared and looked at by minors despite the creator's wishes, general toxic behavior, and a large amount of mentally unwell people working their way into groups of children or safe spaces. I ended up having to delete quite a few NSFW art pieces on twitter because I found minors had seen it and some guy decided to make a comment on my OC Lilith that I was not comfortable with.

I also do not feel alright having to restrict myself on what I write or draw because a single person might be "triggered" or "offended" by it. I know I put warnings when they are needed, I should not have to feel like I'm walking on eggshells in this fandom. I do not need anonymous asks telling me how I should and shouldn't write or what I can and can't say.

Because of how bad it's been and seeing more and more creators leave the fandom, I have decided to no longer engage in other AUs or creators unless it's from a follower (I know you guys are fine), friend, or person I know I've talked with before, OR if it's Clown himself. A lot of people forget that Welcome Home isn't what people keep writing it as. Welcome Home isn't even close to being done, we're just riding off the AUs right now. It really rubs me the wrong way that all I ever see on AO3 now with fanfictions are smut fics mainly and some pretty disturbing stuff.

There is so much, too much, s3xualization in this fandom and the romanticizing of serious and dangerous themes/topics. A lot of times believe or not, when I draw buff characters with no shirts, it really is just anatomy practice. I do not understand some of the comments I get sometimes in my inbox. Yes it's fine to tease a bit, but my goodness some of the comments I have seen before are concerning. I never intend on s3xualizing the characters and yet I always get anon asks going a bit out there with s3xualized comments. It's why I haven't really drawn that stuff in a while. I can't tell if people really do s3xualize that stuff or if they're seeing it as anatomy practice with a bit of tease like I do.

I have been bottling A LOT of things up recently and it's hindered my ability to really write or draw how I want. I'm always scrapping ideas and giving up halfway through.

It's always "Is this something that people are going to s3xualize?" "Is this something that might offend someone in x category?' "Will people like this new character?" "Am I good enough for this topic?". It's not healthy and I know that it affects my creativity and mentality, I won't be restricting myself anymore though. I will write/draw what I want, just please heed my warnings when I put them there and don't ignore my boundaries or the boundaries of others.

Now, regarding my own two AUs (I dropped the Dream one because I have something special planned for TFP), The Finfolk AU and Alive AU. I WILL continue writing/drawing for them. They are my own AUs with my own characters added in them. A lot of people that interact with me are followers and I know you guys would never disrespect my OCs or invade boundaries and I love you so much for that. Of course my rule on requests remain the same. NO NSFW for the normal Welcome Home, but NSFW is allowed for Finfolk AU requests.

Unfortunately, all of this does mean I will not continue the fic I was writing for @clownsuu Mob AU. I'm sorry, I just really do not feel like writing for an AU outside of what I know in terms of the person who makes it. I am not sure how to explain it other than I don't feel alright with it unless it's like an AU from someone I know or at least talked to before? Just at least a person I know on some personal level. I don't want to explore the fandom right now, it is a mess with the people in it...do not take this the wrong way, I DO NOT hate anyone outside of the people I know, I just don't feel comfortable in the fandom at the moment and I will not leave you guys behind either. So in short, I plan to just stay in my own lane so to speak and do what I can for the ones who follow me for what I do.

I will however finish the Villain fanfiction as it's not exactly anyone's AU? Not sure how to explain that, it was a series of asks for it. And obviously I will make a full long fanfictions for the Alive and Finfolk AU.

I know I said I don't want to vent on here, but it's getting hard for me to ignore. Everytime I type or pick up a pencil to make something on here it doesn't feel right.

[winchestergirl2]

August Reading Recs

To show some love and appreciation to all the amazing writers here on tumblr, here are all the fantastic fics I've read this month. 💖

Many of these fics and blogs are 18+ only, and NSFW please heed the author's individual fic warnings and requests regarding no minors. I am not responsible for your media consumption.

2023 Reading Rec List

The Boys

Soldier Boy

Break Me Down Part 17 | The Epilogue @zepskies

Authors Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

Love Actually Part 1 @zepskies

Authors Summary: Ben gets in late on Christmas Eve with a Grinch-like attitude, but you’re determined to force some holiday cheer into his system.  

Love Actually Part 2 | Part 3 @zepskies

Authors Summary: You and Ben steel yourselves in order to meet your crazy family for Christmas dinner.

Supernatural

Dean Winchester

The Widow @pink-sparkly-witch

Authors Summary: Sam and Y/N are happily married, but everything changes after a fatal car accident leaves her a widow. The Winchester motto: “Family Don’t End with Blood,” takes on a whole new meaning for Y/N as she navigates her new normal with the help of her brother-in-law, Dean. But what no one can tell her is what happens when she falls in love again.  

Escape Chapter 58 | Chapter 60 @soaringeag1e

Authors Summary:  A serial killer is reeking havoc around Lawrence, Kansas, and Detective Dean Winchester is getting really sick of finding more and more bodies. But one day, he gets a call about another victim. But instead of the location of another body, he gets news that this one escaped the hell of this mans actions.

The Fallout @justagirlinafandomworld

Authors Summary: When Sam meets his true Omega, you fear your time with the Winchesters is fated to end. Before they can hurt you, you decide to distance yourself. But Dean isn’t willing to let you get away so easy.

Welcome to Being a Girl @negans-lucille-tblr

Authors Summary: When a spell puts you in Dean’s body and Dean in yours, there’s more than one problem that arises.

What A Girl Wants @writercole

Reckless and Raging @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

Authors Summary: Y/N knows she made a mistake, but Dean’s fury at her isn’t making it easy to admit to. But why is he so completely furious?

Hold On, I'm Coming @ravengirl94

Authors Summary: When a freak accident lands you in some trouble, the local fire department and a particularly handsome firefighter come to your rescue. Dean Winchester catches your eye immediately with his charm and kindness, but being Chief Singer’s daughter could cause some serious problems. You and Dean have a choice to make: defy your father’s wishes and face the consequences, or go your separate ways...

Stood Up @justkending

Authors Summary: You haven’t had a date night in a while, and an old hunting companion calls you up for drinks. Sneaking out from Dean and Sam questioning you, you make it to the bar only to realize you’ve been stood up. Coming home you feel defeated and worthless. Lucky for you, you have someone who thinks you deserve better. 

Sam Winchester

Untitled Sam drabble @girl-next-door-writes

Untitled Sam drabble @girl-next-door-writes

Tell Me @thinkinghardhardlythinking

Authors Summary: Sam wants to know what the reader wants him to do to her in bed

This Is Crazy, Isn't It? @katelyn--renee

Authors Summary: The trio enjoy a night out in Las Vegas. Things don’t go quite as expected.

Untitled Sam drabble @supernaturalfreewill

Sam and Dean Winchester (no pairing)

Bar Fight @impala-dreamer

Smallville

Jason Teague

Kiss Me First @mind-empty-just-fictional-people

Authors summary: you keep a student after class to work on their late english homework, but coach teague wants his star quarterback at practice

[crush3dmary]

A public explanation of why I will not be tagging Philosophy with dead dove, do not eat:

So this has been on my radar for a while now, between me debating whether to add the tag, especially with the increase in violence in the last few chapters, and someone outright suggesting it to me recently. I've given it a lot of thought, and here is where those thoughts have ended up.

So, anyone well versed in fandom is well aware that dead dove: do not eat is just a way to say "heed the tags, because I mean it". I know this, and most avid writers know this, but unfortunately there are certain connotations to that term that I don't feel comfortable applying to my fic. Because, by its strictest defition, yes, it IS a dead dove fic. I am very serious when I say it contains violence, sexual content with occasionally dubious consent, and other content that people might find disturbing. I do want people to understand that when they see my tags and the warnings in my author's notes.

However, DDDNE has, objectively, also been sort of co-opted by the average fandomgoer to mean "this is a fucked up fic, it is extremely explicit and is meant to display gore and sex in ways that romanticize this kind of content". As much as I and anyone who has been around for a while knows that's not what the tag means, the reality is, that's what most laypeople think when they see it.

That is objectively the connotation a DDDNE tag carries, and I think looking at the optics of that is important. That's why I've decided I'm not going to use it. Philosophy, at the end of the day, is not a fic about gore and sex. It's a study of Ryou's declining mindset and descent into Zorc's corruption. It does contain sex and violence, but they are used as narrative tools to further the story. The story is not ABOUT the content warnings, it contains them to further the narrative, and that's where I think there's a discrepancy between the optics of a DDDNE tag and what the fic is actually about. The idea of people looking at my fic and thinking "guro porn that's shocking for the sake of being edgy" genuinely upsets me, regardless of what I think of that kind of content (I enjoy it, I do seek it out on occasion), and it upsets me because I feel like my story being seen through that lens is a huge disservice to what I'm trying to do with it.

Yes, my fic does contain questionable content, and I won't deny that, but it's absolutely not a fic that's specifically about sex and violence. Those are simply tools I am using to tell the story from the perspective of a teenage boy with debilitating OCD who is being strung along by yugioh Satan to essentially destroy the world. And yes, there are very disturbing scenes (some people didn't like the belt scene, though it's actually one of my favourites, and I'll admit the scene at the end of ch13-Bark like a God was intense on the violence even for me) but the disturbing scenes are meant to add to the character study rather than for the sake of shock value or anything of the like.

So, I've decided that based on those optics, it's not the right tag for this fic. However, in the interest of making sure nobody gets genuinely upset by the graphic content or feels like it's been sprung on them, I HAVE added the tag "exactly what it says on the tin" which has essentially the same intent as DDDNE without the connotations. I also a few months back added "the dove is not quite dead, but it sure isn't walking or flying" to the initial authors note in chapter 1, mostly because I saw that on twitter and thought it was funny, but it does help emphasize what you can expect when you start reading the fic. Just in general I might go back and assess my author's notes and skip lines on my next reread to make sure everything is accurate and there are no discrepancies. It's going to be impossible to tag for everything that could possibly trigger someone, and I've been trying to be very clear with the direction this fic is heading, but at least I can potentially stop people from being blindsided.

Anyways, that's my story and I'm sticking to it. Time for bed.

[pearlyboi-ofthenight]

30 days of bl

Day 2: favorite bl author

This one is difficult bc I don't really have any authors that I have strong feelings for one way or the other, but I thought about it real hard and the only name that came to mind was Ogeretsu Tanaka (not because of yarichin bitch club although I do like that manga. It's funny.).

Awhile back (earlier this year) I had heard of ybc but never read it. I came across a manga that was really dramatic and angsty called Renai-rubi no Tadashii Furikata and I enjoyed the story (mostly the first couple). Then I found out that one of the guys in the second couple had a previous story in another manga, so I went to read that one.

It's called Azami and it broke my fucking heart. This manga tells the story of an abusive relationship and the cycle of abuse. It's the saddest thing I've ever read and one of the only things that was able to make me cry this year (I have trouble being able to cry, it's a problem I'm working on). The sequel for the guy on the receiving end of the abuse is called Sabita Yoru Demo Koi Wa Sasayaku (old friend from school tries to save him from his abusive relationship) and it's also very fucking sad.

I don't know if Ogeretsu Tanaka has been abused, witnessed it, or just has a really good understanding of the cycle of abuse but this is one of my favorite manga. I'm not going to say I recommend it bc it shows the abuse and it's very upsetting, know your limits and don't read it If you can't handle extreme angst and abuse.

Anyway after I read it I was very sad and was trying to find something much lighter to read. That's when I discovered that the author who wrote the saddest manga I've ever read ALSO FUCKING WROTE YARICHIN BITCH CLUB. I knew a little about it, so I knew it was some outrageous weird manga and I read it. When I say that reading ybc gave me a whole new appreciation for the author I'm not kidding at all. How Ogeretsu Tanaka could write something like Azami and a super goofy, weird, un-serious manga like ybc truly showcases the authors range and skill.

Anyway sorry this was so long. Please heed my warning about Azami. Ive been through some tough shit in my life and I read a lot of angst, so I can handle it. There really is no fun sexy times in that manga. Every part of it is cloaked in sadness.

This user is not currently accepting judgment or criticism for his answers. please try again later.

[wikipedie]

. Please heed the warnings. Protect your mental health. Shortly, I am fine and will not do anything, this is just a general rambling.

Do not worry. I will not do anything. I just want to ramble about how I find funny that when I am better because of long term medication, and I think and wonder "why do I even need medication anymore"

and then I am terribly exhausted because of poor sleep choices and not taking my meds consistently for a while; and I am overthinking and overthinking and irritated and make some mistakes and I sit in the subway with the eyes closed and I think I should kill myself and it makes sense for like two seconds and I can almost envision it

and then I remember. Ah. That's why we're taking meds.

It's strange that I can vaguely remember a time when these sort of thoughts were common occurrence. Daily even. And I'd just fight with them. And I am so exhausted and on edge, I feel like crying but I do not have enough in me to cry. But it's just wild that...I don't think I will ever not struggle with this. And it's wild that there are people out there who do not struggle with it. Theoretically, at least. Theoretically there are people who do not consider the idea of killing themselves, no matter what they do. And I think, for me, it's just been a thing for so long, I don't think I can ever pretend it's not. I think it will ever completely not seem like an option to me. Because I take meds. And I take meds precisely so this doesn't become an option for me. And the moment I am inconsistent with meds, it becomes an option again. No matter how much I might deserve to live.

I think I should've noticed the warnings of suicidal ideation creeping back in earlier, considering I've been thinking about how it would be for people around me if I died more often (I consider sometimes how it would be for the people who love me if I died, and for new people who get to know me and it's not too bad. But when it repeats itself often enough, it doesn't take long to imagine by suicide.) And I've also been mentioning more how I would've killed myself in college if there wasn't X thing. I don't really know if it's true. But it puts suicide more in front of my mind. Something that I've been struggling with. And something, that I realise, that I'm still struggling with. Even if my life is good now.

And that's important to mention, for myself at least. I've been telling myself 'of course I wanted to kill myself if I didn't like the life I was living!' but now I do and it's still...there. in the back of my mind. Something that makes sense, at least a little. So it's just...a reminder I guess. This thing doesn't necessarily go away when your life gets better. *Sigh* or maybe I'm saying this because I'm on my period, but you know what, I'll still take it seriously. Suicide ideation during periods is no less serious than in other times.

Anyways, if you got this far, thank you for being here. Do not worry, I will take care of myself. These are just some musings for myself and yourself, if you get any value out of them.

[seoness]

ALRIGHT I have a question too, o rather two::: How can reader know that the hound is in a good mood? Since his neutral demeanor is serious and usually sulking lmao, what signs does he show when he's not moody that day? And also: i've read your sfw alphabet for him and you said he's a good listener,,, in the show he seems to have rather little patience for 'talkers', like in the chicken scene w polliver or even the scenes with the farmer that gives him and arya shelter and food; though w the latter he seems to engage minimally in conversation before completely disminishig the whole speech of the farmer to ask for ale🤣, but i do recognize that those two are completely strangers to him and he does opens up w people he kinda knows, like beric, thoros, arya or sansa. So how would it be w reader in the start and when they progress? How easy is to have a conversation w him in general spare time?

Answer to question 1:

You want to be able to read the Hound's face? It's subtle at first, and that is partly due to design. Having an unreadable face is favorable with a sworn sword and to the untrained eye, the Hound would only appear to have a scowl and a deeper scowl in his range of facial expressions.

But here is where the books and the show differentiate. The book-version talks waaaay more than the TV version. The quiet sullenness is one found more so on the screen than on the page (not that I'm saying that the Hound in the books runs his mouth endlessly but that when he could talk and had something to say, he did.) Being the quiet recluse is an attribute of his brother, not him. The book version has a couple of tells, face twitching, eyes narrowing, and accusatory speech when he's irate.

The show... well, he seems to have taken on some of Gregor's characteristics. Less talkative and with tendencies to isolate. He hunkers down on a wall with Beric. He sits and drinks in silence with Tormund, and when Tormund breaks it over Brienne, he becomes annoyed. Regardless, the easiest way to tell how he's feeling is to ask him. Getting questions like: "How was your day?" would show him that you care for him.

(This isn't your question, but I love both the books and the show version of the character. I do however attribute liking the Hound in the later seasons to Rory McCann's acting and not the writing. I feel, like with everything else, the writers were lost the more the seasons went on and didn't know what to do with the characters, and the Hound wasn't (in my opinion) spared. I still cringe into oblivion when I think about the dialogue he had with Sansa Stark about Ramsey Snow.)

(My entire reaction during that scene but I have detoured to much and you didn't ask for a rant). *rebooting*

Answer to question 2:

Fuck me, I am so sorry, these two answers suck BUT it will once again differ from if you are speaking to the book version vs the show version. 😭

The book version: It was a bit tricky at first, making the Hound relax around you, but with time and keeping your questions away from his service to the Crown Prince he'll begin to open up. While there's little "empty talk" like "the weather looks nice today" and gossip, he's open to talking about most things.

The show version: Getting a long conversation is like cracking open a walnut with the help of a feather. He prefers silence. He'll mostly listen at first, to your passions and interest. A lifetime of work and duty didn't grant him time to make too many of those.

But it doesn't matter from what universe you pluck him. Two sayings are true regarding Sandor Clegane. The first is one of our world, "empty barrels makes the most noise". When he speaks there is a point to be made, a warning to be heeded or a question you just might be the only one able to answer. The second one comes from his own lips:

"A hound will die for you, but never lie to you. And he’ll look you straight in the face."

I hope I answered your question, it's a bit of a mismatch of "Welcome to my Tedtalk" and stuff. 🙈 I just wanted to highlight that the SFW alphabet is on the book Sandor and not the show version.

[muzanlove]

Five years of university and I'm finally a doctor. After being in the city I decided to move to a small town. Or neighborhood, I've never heard of this place, all I know is there was an ad in the paper about them needing a doctor. I took the job because they would be providing housing. I don't know who 'they' are but I guess it would be nice to get out of the city. 

After hours of driving, I made it to the edge of a forest. What the. Am I going the right way? I looked at my GPS and it said to continue, suddenly I felt a wave of paranoia wash over me. This can't be right. Should I continue? A small town in the middle of a forest sounds like the start of a horror movie. Oh well, I made my way into the forest and to the small town. I park my car at the house, this place is weird. It's so bright and tiny. There are seven houses, a doctor's office, a post office, and a store with a one hundred percent off sign on the window. 

"You must be Nohemi!" I hear a man say behind me. A mailman, odd that a place this small even has a post office, figured if you needed to tell someone something you'd just go to their house. 

"Yes, and you are?" 

"I'm Eddie Dear the mailman! Well, I have to be off, I'll see you around!" 

"Nohemi! You're here! I've been waiting all day we're gonna have so much fun together! After you settle in you should come over my house is over there!" A girl said while pointing at her house.

"I didn't get your name"

"Oh silly me! Julie! Julie Joyful!" She said before skipping away. 

Wow, she's really... joyful. 

5:20 pm 

I finally finished unpacking, I should go to that girl's house, it'd be rude if I didn't. When I left my house I didn't see anyone outside, which was weird because it was the middle of the day. Despite not seeing anyone I could feel someone watching me. No, I'm just being paranoid. There can't be anyone watching me... can there? I knocked on the door to Julie's house and she quickly opened the door.

"Good you're here, are you sure you weren't followed?" She asked.

"Followed what? No, I wasn't"

"Just come in quickly." She pulled me into the house shut the door and locked it behind her.

"What's going on? Are you ok?" 

"You need to leave!" She said.

"Leave? I just got here?"

"He's been expecting your arrival for years now, he's been watching. They chose you for a reason and if you don't get out of here now it'll be too late." She explained in a serious voice. Julie looked afraid, she was serious, this isn't the same person that I met earlier today. 

"Juile what are you talking about?"

"Nohemi, please. Please heed my warning, I don't have much time. Leave and never come back!" She continued. 

"It's" She looked at her watch before continuing

"5:45, by 8 you're car will be gone. Don't make the same mistake I did, I shouldn't have-" Julie was interrupted by a knock on her door.

"Julie! Are you in there?" an unfamiliar voice said.

"Yes! Nohemi's here too!" She says in her cheerful voice. Julie unlocks the door and lets them in.  A well dressed blue haired man walks in. There's something off about him. 

"Hello you must be Nohemi, I'm Wally Darling,"

"I'll show you around town! Doesn't that sound fun!" He grabs my hand and leads me out of her house. I quickly looked back too see Juile giving me a simpthic look. Then she closed the door.

[rosedtae]

PEACH | JJK

—PAIRING: Jungkook x female reader

—GENRE: smut, fluff, established relationship

—SUMMARY: the one where you won’t stop poking your bf’s ass so now you gotta face its consequences.

—RATING: 18+

—WORDCOUNT: 2 k

—WARNINGS: brat oc, spanking, kinda ass eating?, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie.

—A/N: I saw a video and it inspired me to write about bf!jk. This is actually the koo morning couple, maybe I should just make a Drabble series for them (¬◡¬)✧ anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this pwp, do let me know your thoughts about this one! Oh and also, it’s not proofread so ignore any grammar mistakes that might be there hahaha…ha.. (・_・;)

Song: juicy by doja cat

Series mlist

“Fucking y/n, do it one more time and I'm gonna fucking punish you,” Jungkook spits with a poker face, lips drawing into a tight line as the darkness in his eyes shows how serious he is being right now. His harsh tone shoots arousal straight down your nether region as you bite your lip, raising your eyebrows in a challenging way. 

It all started when you got home to a hungry Jungkook looking in the fridge for something before he found the said something— his banana milk. He didn't notice you entering as he continued drinking the milk, still looking in the fridge. You planned on giving him a tight hug but your eyes fell on his butt instead. His butt definitely did get bigger from all the workouts he has been doing. Your eyes sparkled with a glint of shenanigans that filled your mind. 

You smacked his ass making him yelp in surprise, spilling some of his banana milk. “Hello there,” you chuckled at his surprised expressions before kissing his pouty lips. Jungkook didn't have any problem with you smacking his ass but he would much rather spank you. But you didn't stop there, there was just something about his bubbly butt that provoked you to smack it. It was probably because he was starting to get annoyed and you just love being a brat to him (you deserve to spank him a little considering all the times he has colored your ass red from his spanks).

After being asked several times to not smack his ass you decided to poke it instead since he didn't say anything about poking. Your finger poked his ass making him jump a little, not expecting you to literally poke him. “Hey, leave me and my ass alone,” he huffed before rolling his eyes, gently rubbing the spot where you poked him. You giggled at his response not paying any heed to his complaints.

This brings you to your current situation. Jungkook’s eyes travel from your raised eyebrows to your bitten lip, sensing the brattiness radiating from you as you bring your finger up to his ass daring to poke his cheek again for the 6785th time. “That’s it,” he growls, getting up to catch you. Seeing him finally come for you makes your heart skip a beat as you start running towards the living room. 

You squeak loudly when he cages you between his arms, lifting you up. He settles down on the couch, bending you over his knees. “I warned you so many times but you were just begging to be punished weren't you,” he asks rhetorically while his fingers skim the silhouette of your tiny shorts. Your pussy lips get wet as he massages your inner thighs, moving north to squeeze your ass. “hmmph..,” an involuntary breathy moan escapes your lips making Jungkook snicker. “What was that? Don't tell me you are enjoying your punishment,” he lands a sharp smack on your ass. Your cheek burns with a sharp sting and before it could lessen he lands another smack on the same point intensifying the stimulation. You bite your lip to endure the pain as it slowly starts arousing you. 

Jungkook takes off your shorts in a swift motion to look at your painted ass. His gaze on your ass turns you on even more as you squeeze your thighs together to get some friction. Jungkook’s sweatpants tighten at the view of your pathetic administrations. Your thong sticks between your asscheeks, getting coated by your wetness. He rubs your stung skin gently, making you purr like a cat. Even the smallest of his caresses hold the power to provide your body with so much pleasure. He halts his rub once he remembers that this is supposed to be your punishment. 

He hooks his finger on the band of your thong, stretching it out before releasing to make it snap against your skin. You whimper in reply, making him rub your ass to soothe the pain. “Don’t whine now, you asked for it,” he says nonetheless still caressing you. Jungkook takes off your thong, sensing your discomfort as the fabric starts clinging onto your wet pussy. 

You gasp at the feeling of your swollen lips getting hit by the cold air. “You were so keen on poking my ass,” he says in a deep low tone, “let’s see how you take it when I poke yours.” Your walls clench around nothing in anticipation. Jungkook mounts your ass up a bit to get a better angle before ducking his head to bite your cheek gently. Your red ass makes it hard for Jungkook to control his urge to just pound into you in this instance. But he’s a man of patience— at least in bed. 

He kisses both your cheeks softly, while his tattooed hand makes its way between your legs to collect your wetness. A trail of lewd noises escapes your lips at the touch of his fingers with your desperate dripping pussy. Your hips move on their own in an attempt to rub your clit against his sweatpants but his large veiny hands halt your movements. “Patience or I won’t touch that little clit at all,” he warns, moving his arousal-coated finger to your tightest hole. 

Jungkook’s fingers slowly rub your asshole in circles trying to stretch it. He pulls your cheeks apart before spitting on your hole, making you gasp loudly. You never tried any butt stuff and the foreign feeling of having Jungkook play with your hole to his desire makes you excited and nervous at the same time. He slowly tries to insert his finger in your fluttering hole. His spit and your arousal lessen the friction. Your hole clenches as soon as the tip of his finger enters inside you. 

“Jungkoo— mhmm,” you whimper in almost pain as his finger stretches you out. A bubble of pleasure starts building up at his touch but an uncomfortable ache accompanies it. You let out a cry, furrowing your brows at the sensation of his finger moving inside. Jungkook feels your body stiffen, and halts his moments, “how does it feel?”

“Good..b-but it hurts,” your fragile voice replies in an unsteady manner. He slowly pulls his finger out, not wanting to hurt you even a little bit. His nose nudges your asshole as his lips skim over your folds. His tongue moves over to your asshole, stimulating it with kitten licks while his index and middle finger rub your folds together. You feel light-headed as the pleasure starts building up. “Ye-yes, please don’t stop..,” you barely manage to form a sentence once his fingers start playing with your clit. Your core tightens as the euphoric feeling starts flooding in, bursting the bubble of pleasure any second now. But Jungkook stops milliseconds before your climax, making you groan in frustration. 

“Whyyyy,” you whine noisily. “Because this is your punishment baby,” he replies with a smirk on his face, working back on building up your climax. Playing with your clit, he builds up your orgasm only to deny it. “Jungkook please, don’t tease me,” you try to soften him by using your pouty soft voice. But it only seems to turn him on even more as he pushes you to lay flat on your back. 

“Take it off,” he motions towards your top. Your earlier battiness leaves your body as you become compliant, your orgasms are in his control after all. Your top hits the floor accompanied by your bra, making you bare under his hungry eyes. His body hovers over yours, as he traps your lips in a hungry kiss. You tilt your head to allow him access to deepen the kiss. Your hands desperately tug his shirt over his head while he swallows your huffed moans. You arch your back, pressing your tender breasts against his buff chest. “Fuck,” he moans in between the kiss at the feeling of your perky nipples.

He kisses your jaw eliciting pornographic moans from you, turning your throat dry. He kisses all the way down to your boobs, sucking bright hickies on his way. His lips wrap around your left nipple, flicking and sucking it to his heart’s content, while his other hand pinches your unattended nipple. Your eyes shut close at the sweet electric feeling, making you squirm underneath him. Your fingers tighten their grip on his hair, pulling it slightly as your feet push the band of his sweatpants down in an attempt to take them off.

Jungkook releases your nipple with a pop, “always the eager one.” He kisses your belly, moving down to torture your pussy again. Your clit is extra sensitive from all the edging, and when he finally kisses your clit, you feel like you are going to lose it. He presses open-mouthed kisses to your clit and licks your entrance alternatively to slurp all your juices. The view, the sound, the stimulation—it becomes all too lewd for you. “I’m gonna—,” you are not even able to finish your sentence when your climax hits you like a fucking full-loaded truck. 

Your mind goes blank as the only sound that fills your ears is that of Jungkook still latching onto your wetness. You don’t register that you are basically riding his face. The ecstatic feeling starts dying slowly making you come back to consciousness. Jungkook’s face between your legs makes your pussy throb like you didn’t just have a mind-blowing orgasm. “More,” you whine, needing his cock inside you. You cup his cheeks pulling him up to kiss his glistening swollen lips, courtesy of your bites. 

Your kiss turns sloppy as you brush your hips against his in need. “Please babe, I need you in me,” you whimper before kissing his lips in desperate need as if you won’t be able to breathe without having constant contact with them. He kisses your eyelid softly, “I got you, love.” He pumps his rock-hard dick, lining it up with your entrance— coating it with your wetness before he finally, finally enters inside. 

Your eyes roll back at the warm fulfilling feeling, which keeps building up as his dick slowly enters deeper inside your walls, stretching you out real good. His mushroom tip nudges your soft spongy spot once he bottoms out. You relish the feeling for a few minutes before asking him to move. Your nails scratch his back, hugging him tightly as he starts picking up a rhythm. He removes your hand from around his neck only to wrap his fingers around yours. He looks straight into your eyes, holding your hand tightly as he starts thrusting in faster. 

His tip directly hits your g-spot repeatedly, making it hard for you not to cum. “you will cum with me only,” he groans, “hmph- I’m close, just a bit more.” His thrusts start getting deeper and rougher, picking up a fast pace. You try your best not to cum but his delicious thrusts make it hard for you not to fall over the brink of orgasm. “That’s it, you are a good girl aren’t you?” He coos, to which you reply by nodding frantically, “y-yess.”

“That’s it cum for me,” he orders in his dominant alpha tone which makes you shudder. Your walls clench around him as he spills his cum inside your little pussy. You both moan at the same time as your orgasm synchronizes. “I love you,” he whispers, rolling his hips to help you both ride your orgasms. You nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck, pressing small kisses in reply—not being able to form a comprehensible sentence.

His body slumps on yours, once you both reach down your highs. Your fingers run through his hair as he hugs you tightly. You lay like that for a few minutes before you get up to grab your top. “Where do you think you are going?” Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist, throwing you on his shoulder swiftly, as he makes his way to your shared bedroom. “Wait, babe, put me down,” you giggle softly.

He lightly smacks your ass before biting it, “I’m not done with you yet.” 

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ･ﾟ: *･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ･ﾟ: ･ﾟ: *･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ* ﾟ* ･ﾟ: *･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ*

I hope you liked the fic! Support me by liking, commenting or sending me your views <33 your feedback means the world to me 🥹

-Rose 🤎

[certifiedjaeger]

Made with Love

Imagine - Levi baking for you

Warnings: None! This is SFW ♡ also very fluffy... featuring a very, very grumpy and sarcastic (and adorable) levi ♡

Word Count: 2K

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Baking for you has become a little habit of Levi's - His own personal way of showing you that he loves you without having to directly come out and say it. Days like these are your favorite because you get to witness him so focused, so attentive to the task at hand as he puts all of his effort into creating something that you'll love. You love to watch him as he moves around in the kitchen, endlessly telling you to keep out and threatening you with daggers in his eyes to heed his warning or else. However, you also love to not listen to a single word he says and instead focus all of your attention on the grumpy, focused man as he works his magic. You are secretive about it, though. You watch from afar, or rather... you watch from a safe distance. Peeking out occasionally from your hiding spot to bear witness to how adorable the serious, intimidating man you've come to love looks as he delicately measures sugar and flour. Even with his threats that you knew to be empty playing loudly in the back of your mind, you couldn't quite help your eager need to watch him in such a domestic setting. Afterall, how could you ever refrain from witnessing something so sweet?

You watch as he rolls up the sleeves of his white-button down shirt, finally getting to work on the new recipe he had been wanting to try out for you. Several moments pass and you find yourself already swooning against the wall you've been hiding behind, swearing to yourself that you'd love whatever he made for you, even if it tasted horrible, simply because of the adorable sight before you. But then again, this was Levi you were talking about. How could anything he make be less than absolutely perfect? 'One of his more annoying, and endearing, qualities,' you thought to yourself, as you watch his strong hands make delicate work of the dough on the floured countertop; the muscles in his forearms flexing and unflexing with each movement. The muscles in his back follow the same exact pattern, tensing and relaxing as he finds his own rhythm kneading the dough perfectly. And much to your amusement, you suddenly witness him get frustrated at the small strands of hair that have begun to fall in his eyes. As he mindlessly goes to push his dark hair out of his face, he ends up getting flour on his forehead in the process, which the frustrated man seems to be completely unaware of.

And with the sight of him like that, you find yourself moving from your position and sneaking your way closer to him. Yes, okay, technically you're doing exactly what he told you not to do, but honestly, with him looking so adorably oblivious, he was just begging to be kissed. So... you definitely felt justified. Maybe he shouldn't look so cute next time.

Moments later, you quietly tiptoe into the kitchen and do your best to be silent as you come up behind him and then quickly lace your arms around his waist. "Got you!" you say excitedly, smiling with satisfaction into the soft fabric of his shirt as you hear him let out a sigh.

"Did you honestly think I didn't notice you sneaking around behind me?" he says, shaking his head with eyes never leaving his work before him.

"Aw, what! How do you always do that?" you question in annoyance, sighing just as he did seconds ago. "How do you always know when I'm behind you?" you pout, feeling disappointed in your failed efforts to be quiet and stealthy.

"I can hear you coming from a mile away, idiot," his voice sarcastic, yet playful. "And I can see you from the corner of my eye creepily staring at me."

"I wasn't being creepy!" you say offendedly, mouth parting from the new trait he's suddenly given you.

"How else would you describe someone staring at another person from behind a wall?" he questions casually.

"I wasn't doing that," you whisper, although, the smile which is very evident in your voice immediately gives away your dishonesty.

"So, you're a liar, too. Good to know," he nods his head. "A creepy liar."

"You know... I don't think boyfriends are supposed to talk to their partners like this," you raise an eyebrow, eliciting a soft chuckle from the man in front of you.

"Well, this is how you get spoken to when you're being bratty and don't listen to me."

~

As he finally finishes with what he was doing, now putting the delicate dessert in the oven to bake, he turns to you with a sigh. You watch as he crosses his arms and leans against the countertop to finally take in your disobedient presence, all the while tilting his head to the side as if to question your constant need to annoy him. But all he sees is you walking toward him, slowly closing the distance between you two, as a playful smile makes its way onto your face. He does his best to remain calm as you inch closer, desperately trying to look neutral and unbothered by the close proximity of your body to his. But now, you're close enough that he can smell the sweet scent of your perfume, so close that he can see the mischievous twinkle in your eye that he loves so much. Close enough that with one last small movement of your head, your soft lips are now suddenly on his; gentle and warm, reminding himself of exactly why he puts up with you. But if he were being completely honest with himself, he doesn't simply just tolerate you. He loves you. Even if he hasn't told you that, yet. Even if his annoyed expressions and words of ridicule would suggest otherwise - He loves you. And this is made all that much more clear, when he instantly gives in to your persistent efforts and places the very arms that had so stubbornly been crossed seconds ago around your waist, leaning into you and deepening the kiss as if it were now the only thing sustaining him in this life.

After several tender moments later, he pulls back slightly so that his lips are gently ghosting yours and he breathes out a soft laugh. "You're such a stubborn, impatient brat, you know." Words one might think belonged to a harsh, unloving man, but that... well, that couldn't be any further from the truth.

Regardless of the insult that had just rolled off of his tongue, you lace your arms around his neck and give him a soft, playful smile, "Well yeah, but something tells me you don't mind all that much." And he knew damn well that that was the truth, that he does not mind, not in the slightest. In fact, it's one of his favorite things about you that you are always so persistent in the affection you show him, that you are always so willing to give him love even when he acts as though he doesn't want it. Maybe it's because you knew deep down just how badly he adores you.

Always the elusive and distant one, Levi had trouble with showing affection himself. Getting close to someone and accepting their warmth created a possibility to be hurt in the future. But with you, something had changed. He found himself looking forward to the intimate touches and soft kisses that you so tenderly gave him. He grew to love them, just as he grew to love you. And possibly, all the affection you showed him was because you were already painfully aware of how he felt about you. And maybe that wasn't such a bad thing anymore.

He softly shakes his head and breathes out another quiet laugh, not being able to deny the truth of your words. With how you were looking at him, with such softness, such love, he swears that he'd put up with your weird antics forever if it only meant that he got to continue to be at the receiving end of this look. He would gladly have you spy on him or even never listen to another word he says, if you would just promise to never stop looking at him like this.

This look that he loves so much, that he thinks about every night, that he savors at every chance he gets, that now... suddenly changes as your eyes glance up at his forehead. You desperately try to stifle the laughter forcing its way out of you, but end up failing as you take in the appearance of Mr. Clean Cut Levi, now disheveled and covered in flour. You reach up and gently wipe off the light coating of flour on his skin, giggling as you then come face-to-face with a very flustered Levi. His gray eyes suddenly narrow over the fact that he had had flour on his face (*kill bill siren*) and didn't even know it; his cheeks now having a slight tint of pink to them as he mulls over the embarrassing thought of his messy appearance in front of you. You chuckle softly at the sight of his jaw clenching and lean in to once again place your lips against his. And as though instantaneously, he forgets all about his embarrassment as the only thoughts that fill his mind now are of how soft your lips feel and how he never wants to part from them. All the tension in his body immediately releases with just one small gesture from you... But then again, you always seemed to have that kind of effect on him.

~

After many moments and many kisses shared between the two love-struck people in the warm kitchen, the timer dings! and Levi goes to take his beautiful creation out of the oven. However, you now find that he is the persistent one, as he insists on feeding you himself.

"Open," he says in his normal calm and stern voice, as he lightly pinches your cheek. You do as your told and he carefully lets you take a bite, all the while watching your reaction closely. He lets out a small, content sight and his eyes soften tremendously as you close your own eyes and smile, tasting pure heaven on your tongue.

"So good," you practically moan as you reach for even more, only to have him slap your hand away.

"Behave yourself," the corner of his mouth tugs up slightly as he feeds you again himself. "Didn't know I was in a relationship with a wild animal."

You gladly take the sweet delicacy he offers you and sigh contentedly as you savor the taste. "Are you saying-," you pause to continue eating, "that you're into animals?" The way the smile on his face instantly drops and instead is replaced with only a look of annoyance has you biting back your own laughter. "Didn't know I was in a relationship with such a freak."

"Anyone else and I'd be halfway out the door right now," he warns. "You're lucky you're... okay looking," he says deadpanned.

"Okay looking?! You make it sound like you're not even attracted to me! Now, who's the liar?" you widen your eyes as your incredulous smile grows. "You know, we've been dating for a while now... It's okay for you to say I'm cute, or even, oh... I don't know, beautiful?"

"Fine," he says with a sigh, rolling his eyes. "You're lucky you're... cute. Happy?"

"You really mean that?" your voice now carries a sweet, soft tone to it as you look at him doe eyed, seeing him breath out a soft laugh at your sudden change in demeanor. "And yes, I am happy," you look as though your heart hurt from how much love you felt hearing him say those words, and honestly, it kind of did; your heart fluttered and butterflies gracefully danced in your stomach, causing a soft smile to form on your face. "Who knew my boyfriend was so sweet?"

"Shush," he warns, stuffing another bite into your mouth to quiet you. As much as he wanted to act unaffected by your loving and doting appearance, the red tips of his ears definitely gave him away. You let him be, though. Figured he had had enough teasing for one day. Instead, you stopped talking and let him feed you, tasting every ounce of love he had poured into his dessert for you. Your eyes said it all, even if he dared not to - That he loved you, and you knew it. Regardless of how many times he told you to shut up or how many times he rolled his eyes at your incessant banter, he loved you. And you loved him, too.

~

A/N: I am so soft for this man what the hell !!!!!!! like I can't bake, but I got somethin you can eat for dessert, mr. ackerman

also, bonus... this is definitely how reader was staring at him lmao

[saphirered]

Request: Percy's taking off reader's glasses or vice versa... maybe both? Prelude to something? Cute, sexy, or angsty... it's all fair game.

I recently broke mine and they're all taped up... a constant reminder.

Oh my! I hope you managed to get them fixed. The temporary fix is one I can relate to. I'm usually a mess when it comes to my own glasses and misplacing them all the time. Drew some inspiration from that so I hope you don't mind. Enjoy! 😘

“Percy? Percy! Oh Percival!” Your voice carries through the hallway accompanied by some bangs and clangs and curses. Percy bites his tongue as he hears you approach the workshop. He thinks nothing of it. Not yet at least. Given a second thought, you’re usually decently well balanced, so he wonders why the sounds of a storm being left in your wake? Fuck! He just burned his finger. Fanning his hand to provide some relief and biting his lip to dim the hiss he turns in his seat and rises. You’re approaching that’s for sure. He’s got half the mind to at least tidy up a little bit and so he does, tools cleared from the worktable put back in their proper places, current project neatly disassembled, parts placed in the order he’d taken them apart in the first place as to not get them messed up and screw up his assembly later. No need to turn this into a picture side down jigsaw puzzle. Vials of toxins, acids and other liquids neatly lined up and labelled. He’s ready for your arrival and sits back down in his chair as the door swings open. 

When you enter the workshop you look a tad disheveled. It seems the buttons of your shirt are done wrong, you’ve settled for two differently coloured socks, one shorter than the other, let’s not mention your hair; serious case of bedhead. You look beautifully disheveled but from the frustrated pout gracing your features he feels safe to assume that’s not an intentional look. You make your way over to him, beelining for the workbench, your back arches as you take a closer look at the surface, run your hands over it before you turn around and lift yourself atop of it so you can sit, keeping some distance from his project. You groan. Percy raises his eyebrow at you but you seem a little less focussed as if you don’t look him in the eye, just in the general direction and then it dawns on him; you can’t see properly. You’re not wearing your glasses. That explains a lot but raises one question. 

“Where are your glasses?” Percy questions. 

“Beats me!” You throw your arms up exasperated. “I’ve been looking for them all morning. Searched our room, nothing. Can’t find them. It’s bloody great, isn’t it? Can’t find my glasses without my glasses. You can see that gets a little difficult.” Percy has to admit it is a little funny. You always manage to displace them, panic when you think you’ve lost them but then usually find them first reach. Seems luck finally isn’t on your side anymore. Maybe he’d tell you I told you so if you were anyone else, okay maybe he still does feel that way, just less sarcastically so. 

“Is that why you left chaos in your wake on your way down here?” He snickers, looking at the shattered vase across the hallway, crumpled up carpet, tilted planter and so on. 

“Oh I’m sorry, I can’t see where I’m going unless it’s five bloody feet in front of me! How the hell am I supposed to see that other stuff before I’m tumbling over it? Eyes up front! Not at my feet!” You huff and Percy should be lucky you’re not able to see the smile gracing his features or you might have had his head. You look rather adorable in your frustration. He wipes the amusement from his face, rises and walks to stand in front of you grasping you by the arms. Now your eyes focus on his face and not just the general direction of his form. Now he’s close enough for you to see more than a collective of differently coloured shapes. You reach up clasp his face between your hands and sigh as your finger trails the frame of his own glasses. 

“Perhaps you’ll finally heed my warnings and not leave your glasses lingering around everywhere?” Wrong thing to say Percival. Wrong thing. 

“Oh shush you.” With that you take the glasses from his face and put them on. You squint hard, brow furrowing but at this point Percy can’t see that. He gives you a look. “Sweet gods your sight is atrocious!” You exclaim as he tries to take the delicate frames back from you. You lean backwards out of reach and try to dodge him holding the sides of the frame to your temples.

“It certainly doesn’t help you’re nearsighted and I am most definitely not. May I please have them back now?” Percy relents and raises his hands in surrender yet you still refuse.

“Fine. What do you want?” You walk your fingers up his arm to his shoulder while moving his glasses to the tip of your nose. If you’re honest looking through Percy’s glasses is giving you a bit of a headache and they don’t exactly improve your sight either. 

“Be the amazing, affectionate and caring partner you are and use those uncanny perceptive skills of yours to help your darling find their glasses?” Stroking your knuckles along his shoulder and neck you lace your free hand with his and lean in to kiss his cheek, letting your lips linger just a little longer than necessary. Looking over the glasses perched on your nose you can see Percy contemplate for a bit. You’re unsure wether this is to make you feel the consequences of losing track of the one thing that allows you to see clearly or because he’d like to see where this is going. You’re not entirely surprised but little by little the later might be the case. Your charm never fails you though. 

“You always have such a way with words. Exactly know how to stroke my ego.” The somewhat lewd look you give him at his comment is lost to him with his current lack of view given the close proximity, but that does not mean he cannot feel the smugness radiate off you as you keep your comment to yourself. Percy holds out his hand for the glasses expecting you to hand them over. 

“I’ll be hanging onto these until we find mine. Misery loves company.” You hop off the workbench standing chest to chest and press a kiss to his lips. Not one to deny you such affections Percy indulges you. When you pull away and step around him, you pull him along by your linked hand, this proves a terrible decision as you’ve missed the presence of the moving chair behind Percy. Luckily the gunslinger is quick in his action and catches you before you can land face first on the floor. He gives you an ‘I told you so’ expression.

“Do you want me to actually be useful to you?” Percy deadpans. He knows you can see the hummer in the situation. 

“I suppose you have a good point…” Still you pull him along, this time mindful of the chair and stepping around the thing. So much for stationary chairs without any kind of mechanisms that allow them to be rolled across the floor. Dangerous for people hard of sight. Then again, you suppose Percy’s workshop is not meant to be safe for most people anyway. Maybe you are slightly to blame but you’re feeling adventurous. You pull him towards the exit of the workshop but not a few steps from the door Percy stops you and sighs deeply. You stop after he leads you over to another workbench, equipment still laid out. Once you get closer you see goggles, the kind used when working with bright flames and sparks or whatever instruments might cause and carry such effects whatever they may be used for. You’re not a bloody engineer. Percy grabs something from the table and then turns to face you proper. 

“How about a trade since you’re so adamant on wearing glasses?” With that he presents a familiar frame, familiar design and given the state of them, definitely yours. These are no doubt your glasses. You go to reach for them but Percy tuts. It’s your turn to relent and so you do. You take his glasses, remove them from the bridge of your nose, and turn them in your hands, lifting them towards his face and placing them back where they belong. You adjust them so they’re on straight once more. You pat his cheek before you drop your arms again. 

“May I please have my glasses?” You sass as Percy seems to deliberate and study you. He inspects your glasses, holds them to the light. They’re covered in smudges but nothing a cleaning cloth can’t fix and so he reaches into a drawer of the workbench, pulls the rag he usually uses solely for this purpose and cleans the glass before he lifts the frames to your face and repeat what you just did for him. Though you make it a point to push them further up your nose. You look rather cute and can see you caught on he noticed. 

“Where would I be without you?” You say jokingly as you peck his lips in thanks. 

“Probably lost somewhere given your own atrocious sight.” Your face grows threatening but bitterly sweet so, with a wide smile as you lean close.

“Don’t make me misplace your glasses on accident next time, Percival.” He snorts. You would be the one to cause him to lose his glasses. At least you’d take great pleasure in helping him find his just like he is now. Though he does feel a bit stupid for not remembering your placing of your glasses in his workshop after your little side venture for safekeeping. Perhaps he should have been aware. He’ll make a note but he doubts he’d care to remember should such an occurrence decide to repeat itself. By the look you’re giving him, it might just repeat itself…

[straighttohellbuddy]

pain is so close to pleasure {c!Technoblade}

Summary: Yandere!Technoblade. There's something enticing about violence being committed on your behalf. Knowing someone cares enough about you to inflict pain on others, it's exhilarating.

And Techno's the best in the business; you'd know, you'd spent years idolising him. But now he's keeping out of conflict, the two of you isolated in the tundra, you've learned to make your own fun.

Need to Know: They/Them. Yandere!Technoblade / Enabler!Reader. please heed the warnings.

A/N: 2330 words. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS THIS ONE IS DEFINITELY HEAVIER THAN THE LAST. um anyways. this one is from the reader's POV mainly and like.. im here to romanticise the fuck out of terrible shit. because i like it in fiction. i hope ya like it, i think this is closer to trad yandere but im not sure, and i'd really appreciate feedback or requests!!

Warnings: Romanticisation/Rationalisation of Yandere Behaviour; slight dehumanisation of reader, mutual possessiveness/obsession, emotional and psychological manipulation, romanticised physical abuse, slight dumbification as a result of manipulation, S&M implications??

Citrus Scale: 💚 LIME 💚

{ yandere!dsmp masterpost }

Pacificism had made you a creature of leisure and instinct, since moving with Techno to his cabin in the tundra, any desire you voiced would usually be filled. You wanted for nothing. Time and again Techno voices that that was the intention, that as long as you were loyal and your love was true, he'd endeavour to grant your every wish.

And he'd had your heart long before he'd stolen from the world.

It had been years since The Blade had returned home to the Greater Dream SMP, but news of his arrived had spread like wildfire. It was the talk of the town, and you couldn't help but be swept up in the excitement; everyone had heard the stories.

When you ask Phil if he's ever met The Blade, if the stories are true, Phil laughs hard enough to almost spill his coffee. When he sees that you're serious, and now a little concerned, his expression sobers.

"Oh, you're serious?" Apparently it's common knowledge that Phil and Technoblade are close friends, but of course you having only moved here a few years ago wouldn't know that. While Phil fondly explains that most of the stories are true, he rolls his eyes and mutters that Techno had a flare for the dramatic at times, that he'd be thrilled at how his reputation has so preceded him. With another, almost exasperated huff of laughter, he adds, "and don't call him The Blade, his name is Techno."

Mouth opening and closing like a fish, your sudden nervousness must have shown on your face, since he relents to something fond, assuring you that Technoblade would love you, that he's into 'loyalty and genuine respect and shit like that'. You'd be fine.

A sharp, amused thought sits in the back of your mind, a question; did he regret setting you and Technoblade on each other's paths? Now, sitting across from him in the cabin, you think he might. Looking to Techno, by your side and animatedly telling a story, you couldn't be more glad that he did. It's a story that you've heard before, but you love it just as you had the first time. Still, you can't believe that he chose you out of everyone; it overwhelms you -

"You alright there?" Phil's voice interrupts Techno's story and your thoughts, and when you look over to him, he's looking at your arm. In the comfort of the cabin, you'd been wearing shorter sleeves, and the fabric had shifted to reveal the edge of a bandage. Glancing at it, you can't help but smile at the memory of how you'd received it, and all it implied.

"Yeah, it's fine, he's-"

"I'm teaching Y/N to swordfight," Techno speaks over you, tone light, but you nod emphatically, smiling wide. Phil looks between the two of you like he doesn't quite believe that, but you've been giddy since you'd been reminded of the injury, and can't help yourself.

"He's teaching me, Phil," you babbled excitedly, "me! Techno -!" You gesture to him beside you, as if trying to highlight just how little you can believe it, "obviously I'm not very good yet, but," you give a little, bashful smile as you trail off, still oozing joy. It's enough to placate Phil, however, who shakes his head at your antics.

"He should be more careful is all -"

"Are you gonna tell me a sword isn't a toy next?" Techno teased, leaning back and draping an arm over your shoulder, "what else did you tell me and Wilbur when we were training?" The tone was light, and coming off of your own excitement to share the news that Techno was teaching you to fight, you were happy to lean into him and simmer in the heady buzz that came about in certain moments like this when you were close to him.

Being with Techno had changed you. A feedback loop set off by Phil, months ago, mentioning to Techno that there were still people who were awed by his stories. When pressed, Phil had mentioned you, mentioned you had only been a few years, but that you'd been endearingly excited to meet Techno, to really hear anything about him.

He'd done reconnaissance, because of course he had it was the middle of an espionage filled war. He'd cleared you as a threat in less than a fortnight, but he found himself still watching and following whenever he got a free moment. It probably would have gone on longer if Phil hadn't seen him trying to casually pass by the front of the house and catch a glimpse inside.

So Phil had introduced you.

And you'd been exactly as inquisitive and kind and thoughtful as Phil had suggested, and he'd observed from afar.

When he'd started spending time with you of his own accord, that's when the shift had begun. Sure, there had been some idolisation, a little awe, but you're pretty sure no more than the average person. At first.

Because every time he mentions that 'of course he chose to spend time with you' something sparks in the back of your mind. He chose you.

Because at first he asks, but eventually you offer, exactly which stories you'd heard about him before meeting him. When you finish recounting what you remember, he's quiet, before giving a cocky little smile and tells you the truth of the situation in boastful detail. You can't quite believe that the man who's done all this takes the time to keep you company. You start to ask for stories no-one's heard, and he starts to oblige you.

Because he asks if you have any kind of fight training, and you have to admit that you don't. You're expecting him to be concerned, or to perhaps brush it off, instead he's looking at you with something you can only describe as adoration, as he quietly promises to protect you.

Because you're in the crowd at the Manberg Festival, and end up with burns along on your arms where you'd thrown them up to shield your face from the fireworks as they rained upon the crowd. You'd seen Techno turn and fire, but he'd been coerced into killing his friend. In the chaos on the ground, with Wilbur and Nikki, your hand was the one Techno had grabbed, and you'd gone along without question. He had burned you; he was your saviour.

By now you respect that he knows what's best, that he's capable and smart and resourceful, and that he wants what's best for you. He tends to your wounds in his base near Pogtopia, riddled with guilt. It's the first time he tells you he loves you; your arms bandaged from the wounds he caused. The voices, he tells you, are as desperate for you as they are for blood and violence. You know about the voice, know their intensity and what they crave; your idolisation has long since crystallised into an amorous kind of hero worship, so this validation, this return of affection so completely, becomes a high you still haven't truly come down from.

Everything has shifted, though it had been so slow you hadn't noticed, not until you realise that you have become Ptolemy, and Techno as your world, has become the centre of the universe. It doesn't even occur to you, as you're ascending the water elevator, that your safety in isolation was imperative to him. He'd been arguing with Tommy the past few days, and you had wanted to do for Techno was you knew he'd do for you. But you're lost; you don't know your way around Pogtopia.

When he finds you having tea with Wilbur, sitting quietly and listening to him ramble with a somewhat vacant expression, there's an unexpected hostility to Techno. Still, just seeing him perks you up immensely, and you're glad to be heading back with him, lamenting on the way that Wilbur wouldn't help you find Tommy so you could smack some sense into the kid for disrespecting and doubting Techno.

Back in his base, however, he doesn't try to mask his fury. Grabbing, shoving, holding you in place against the wall as he demanded to know what the fuck you thought you were doing. Beautiful and terrible, his grip on your shoulders is so tight it hurts, and you're at a loss having never been confronted by his rage before.

"Why do you think I keep you here?!" He demands; the stone of the wall is rough even through your shirt. Tears prick your eyes and you avert your gaze; you'd been trying to do something nice for him. When you don't answer, he slams your shoulders against the wall again, firmer this time, demanding a response.

"I don't know!" You blurted out, unable to look at him, "because we're at war and you're worried something will happen to me, I don't know, I just... you asked and now I'm here because I know you know best but no I don't know why!" You squeeze your eyes shut as if it could hold off the tears that were beginning to make their way down their cheeks.

It takes a moment, but slowly his grip loosens. He's still holding you against the wall, but his hands are warm and gentle on your shoulders. When he lets go, part of your brain notes the absence of his warm touch and already misses it. But then, he's angling your face to his.

"Look at me," it's so different from just a moment ago, tender and apologetic, "please, Y/N, I love you, you know I love you," he says softly, and carefully you crack your eyes open, sniffling, "I'm terrified of you being used against me; you're porcelain, dear." And with feather-light fingertips he traces your cheekbone, before holding your face in his hand.

"People can't get away with talking shit about you," you sniffled, resting your forehead against his. He huffs a quiet, adoring laugh.

"You're very good to me," he says softly, "but we both know Schlatt wouldn't be above using you to get to me."

As the night grows late and you're both trying to get some sleep, you can feel him ghosting his fingertips from shoulder to shoulder across your back. It still ached faintly, sharpest of all is the echo of his grip on your shoulders. You were fragile, at least compared to him, and he was well aware of this, but still he'd held you tight enough to hurt even hours later. Even the idea of you putting yourself in harms way had overwhelmed him to force, to leave a reminder each time you felt it ache.

He presses a kiss to your shoulder blade, still sore; you're porcelain. You smile to yourself. He had wanted to remind you that he could break you, but he wouldn't; he loved you. It would be easy for him, after all, he's almost done it by accident with a fire work, but he doesn't because he loves you. So you have to stay safe, to keep yourself isolated at his instruction, because he won't kill you, so nobody else is allowed to either.

A new shift in your thinking, finally understanding that you mean everything to him. This, of course, is only solidified when you wake to an empty bed and your hands bound, with enough rope attached to one of the bedposts that you can freely traverse the base, but not enough to leave. The first time it happens you think he's just being overly cautious, and can't fault him for that now understanding him the way you do.

But in the tundra, it's been several months since the first time he felt the need to keep you safe and secure in such a way. After Phil leaves, he offers to wait for Techno as they're both heading to a meeting. But Techno's grip on your knee beneath the table stings, and he tells Phil that he has to get a few things first, that he's going to run late. Your pulse is spiking as you bid your own farewells.

"What have I said about the swordfighting stuff?" Techno asks standing and beginning to gather the cups from the table.

"To be normal about it," you sighed, grinning from ear to ear.

"To be normal about the injuries from swordfighting," he corrects pointedly, and you stand too, following him into the kitchen.

"I don't think I can," you teased, "I survived a swordfight with Technoblade because he loves me; I'll never be normal about that." You seem to be floating on air as he grabs one of your wrists, leading you through the house.

"I'm teaching you to swordfight, and I love you, those are two seperate thoughts," he says pointedly, though you can see him smile as you descend to the lower level, away from the prying windows. He's moving fast though, you're fairly sure you're going to be punished for your outburst, and he really hadn't intended on being late for his meeting, "I just like reminding you that you're still," he deliberates for a moment, "vulnerable," without me that is, hangs unspoken in the air but you both can hear it.

There's restraints down here that have been used for you far more than they've been used for the pets you say they're for. They're metal, with thick chains and a solid collar that's tight enough that you can feel it, but not tight enough to be uncomfortable. It's a reminder, as is the tape he places firmly over your mouth. With your hands free you could just pull the tape off, but you know he does what he does for a reason, and you respect him too much to remove it.

It's you he loves. You he'd kill for. You he wants to keep safe. You he puts time and effort and care into. You he could have killed with little effort.

Out of everyone.

How lucky!