#sorry for a bit of a vent but i just need prayers

[justjesusyall]

heavy stuff below, i just need some prayers. feel free to scroll <3

can yall please pray for me? these past two years have been the hardest years of my life. it feels like a new issue pops up every day, to the point where it almost seems unreal. i developed a chronic illness, i had tics pop up out of nowhere, i lost my dog, my family is struggling financially, my grandpa had a stroke and is in a nursing home, i’ve been struggling with anxiety, depression, suicidality, homosexuality, self-image, and recently i’ve even started to experience hallucinations and psychosis. it feels like the enemy is throwing literally everything he can at me, trying to stop me from my walk with Christ. i feel so far from God, and so unloved. i don’t know how i can carry the burden of all these problems, especially seeing as im so young. i’m only in high school. if it’s this bad now, how bad will it be when im an adult with real responsibilities? i don’t know what direction my life is taking. soon i’ll have to start applying to colleges, and i don’t know what career to pursue. i don’t even know if i’m sane right now. please pray for me for healing, for peace, and to feel the love of God over me and to know that He is with me. please pray for my family too as they are experiencing a lot of spiritual warfare, and i can feel the tension in my home right now.

[transformers-spike]

After the autobots eating puss hc I AM BEGGING for the Decepticons counterpart. Please please please pleaseeeeee I need my evil boys and girls eating pussy and eating it GOOD

Will be doing the cons I've seen until now in the show. So sorry Shockwave, you gotta wait this out.

Dreadwing is, to put it simply, horrible at eating out. Please don’t hold it against him, he wasn’t exactly out there back on Cybertron, and things got even worse when he was cooped up in his spaceship hunting down Autobots and Wreckers. Can he even remember when he last ate valve? Probably, Cybertronians have better memories than humans, but there’s no way he doesn’t cringe inside recalling the event. He has no idea what he’s doing, he’s the furthest thing from a Casanova, the antithesis of a sex god. Show him some mercy and give him instructions, he’ll listen to them as best he can, you just wish he would go harder and stop holding back like you’re made of glass. To be fair, by Cybertronian standards you’re extremely fragile, but… you trust him enough not to kill you with his glossa. It’s all awkward licks without your input, staring down at your pussy like it’s a bomb he has to defuse, and it’s not very sexy when he’s analyzing your genitals instead of eating you out. He can treat you like a gentlebot as much as he wants, protectively cupping you in his servo while on his knees, bringing your little body to his intake and ex-venting against it, leaving shivers down your spine. But the second he gets to work it feels like you bought a vibrator on Temu and received a bootleg PS5 controller. Either you beat the circumstances and cum against his face, or you make no progress in the span of hours. Cut the guy some slack, he’s trying his best to please.

Skyquake has the opposite problem. No, sadly not in the sense that he can tongue fuck you until you see Primus and get a drawn out “Nice” from their God/Creator/Dad. Bad cunnilingus runs in the family. The issue is, he’s too rough. If it’s not the general glossa to clit action, it’s the way he’s holding you in his servos, digits wrapped too tightly around your itty bitty body, enough to make you wince. He will adjust his grip if asked, but don’t expect him to remember during the entire act. You offer a prayer to the fallen Cybertronians who had their anterior nods bitten off by a walking jet with no chill. Squirm too much and he’ll assume he’s doing a good job, beg him to stop and he’ll take it as encouragement to keep overstimulating you. Except it’s not overstimulation – oh no. He’s turning your pussy numb faster than you can say “I wish it was your brother”. He’s well-meaning, just too intense for your own good. You have to treat him like a rescue, lure him in with treats and train him to stop biting you at random intervals. If you manage, he’ll lower his aggression, if only a little bit, and he’ll try being more mindful of your reaction, shedding his one track mind for a night or two. There are complicated cases, then there’s Starscream who, like the drama queen he is, has to be number one in avoiding your genitals like the plague until he feels safe enough to give them a try. Ironic since he can shishkebab you with those giant claws, but dude needs to trust you enough if he’s going to stick his glossa between your folds. Worst thing is; he’s good. Not just good, but fantastic at eating out. Who fucking knows how many Cybertronians had their valves ruined at his servos, but you have to earn your keep, make it to the top of his most trusted list and reap your reward. He enjoys the act, leaning all casually against a wall with you in his servos, keeping your thighs apart with two sharp as steel digits; applying languid licks to your pussy until you’re shaking in his gentle grip. Buck into him, he encourages it, it feeds into his ego, and by Primus the more praise you slather onto your words the better he does. Give him any kind of appreciation and he’s clinging onto it like the holy grail. He gets off on pushing you to your limits, having you beg for more as he assures you in a silky voice that you will get your dues soon. Absolute 10/10, do recommend.

Soundwave does not possess a proper “mouth” by human standards, doubtful he even had one when he was forged. But he has a sort of… throat intake for lack of a better word which he uses to refuel. Fear not fellow robot-fuckers! He makes up for what he lacks in other ways, mainly making proper use of his tentacle-like cables, each possessing a number of thin wires. Under usual circumstances, he uses them to connect to machinery or, in case he needs an extra oomf during a brawl, lights his opponent the fuck up with one billion volts of pure ass-kicking electricity. Now, don’t worry, Soundwave isn’t planning on turning your pussy into a death row inmate. He’s got enough control over his own frame to avoid this worst case scenario, and he’s certainly not clumsy enough to accidentally fry your pussy like a thanksgiving turkey. Those wires feel way too good inside of you, dragging across your clit with ease and squirming between your folds like miniature tentacles. The whole ordeal is akin to a consensual hentai experience with no need to yamete kudasai him; he can gauge your reaction on his own. After all, as the Intelligence Officer, deciphering body language is a must.

If you're letting Airachnid eat you out, you have no survival instincts. I'm not saying you're an idiot, but you're widely overestimating her “kindness”. Let's all take a moment of silence for the fallen valves of innocent Cybertronians. If and only if she has the barest sliver of empathy, she's going to torture your pussy until you're a crying mess caught in her web, without turning you into her newest trophy once the deed is done. At least not a dead trophy, because once she gets her servos on your squishy little human body, you belong to her, a hypothetical deal with spider Satan in exchange for the best head of your life. She's cruel in every sense of the word, but her talent at pushing you to the brink of insanity leaves you willing to risk everything, including your genitals, in this one sided power dynamic. Bound in her web, she delights in ghosting her digits over your throat, pushing down just enough to remind you of your place in this bargain. She can end your precious organic life whenever she pleases, mixing fear with pleasure as she presses her lips to your pussy.

Breakdown is a special case, always has been. Among the vast majority of Decepticons, he doesn't aim to make you beg, nor to destroy your sense of self with his glossa. He's just… a guy, completely normal next to the others, and this, ironically enough, makes him stand out. He's good at what he does, not mind-blowing by any means, just average. He has practiced enough with valves and made his partners overload plenty of times. A pussy is small, sure, but he's had minicons before, you're in safe servos here; and he’s not rusty at it either, he's one of the very few Cybertronians on Earth who frags on the regular (in no small thanks to Knock Out). Contrary to what his status indicates, he's more than just the “smash your opponents into scrap” soldier. It feels nice to lower his inner walls around someone other than his partner. There’s a major difference between the self-assured intimidation he wants to exude and the softness he craves. As such, shows exceptional gentleness handling you, cupping you in his huge servos or, if you're a daredevil, holding your hips with two massive digits as you grind your pussy against his intake. 

“Cute,” he thinks as you hump his face like an overly territorial parakeet. You may be a little shit, but you’re his little shit that he pampers and pleasures until you mellow out and relax against his chassis.

Knock Out fucks. End of discussion. He FUCKS. He has fragged on Cybertron, he's fragging on the Nemesis, you cannot stop him. Am I exaggerating? Possibly, but Knock Out is a young Cybertronian with the libido of an unneutered bull, so of course he can eat pussy. Issue is, he's smug about it, teasing you with the tip of his glossa until you beg him to put in some actual effort. He draws out your pleading until you have tears in your eyes, then he grants you the orgasm you've been dying for. Have fun being handled like a particularly juice push pop candy, you must sacrifice your dignity for robot cunnilingus. Knock Out may want you to assume he's a natural at human pussy, but the truth is; he's been googling the topic nonstop like a horny 14 year old on his dad's computer. He actively wants you to believe it’s an effortless task, you have no idea how much time and effort he puts into researching the topic, all for your admiration. Now please, give it to him, especially after all this hard work. Just don’t mention how you glimpsed his internet history.

Calling Megatron intimidating would be an understatement. Sharp denta don’t mesh well with pussy, nor does an ex-gladiator current warlord with your squishy body. But he “begs” to differ. Head from this bitch is the equivalent of sticking your entire hand in the jaws of a rabid rottweiler; you can do nothing but pray he doesn’t bite down. You’re the dumb little fleshling who found itself in his grasp, and he’s not letting go anytime soon. Human pussy is infinitely more fragile than Cybertronian valve, and he makes sure to remind you by skimming his jagged denta over your thighs. You’re caged in his servo, arms squeezed at your sides as you let the tyrant savor you to the last drop, leering down at you with half-lidded optics. He looks like he’s about to bite a chunk out of your private bits, and the fear makes you taste all the sweeter. Unscrupulous as he is, he has no shame stroking his spike during the act, growling between your legs promises of what’s to come. If you’ve survived this long, Megatron values you to a self-indulgent degree. Keep back and let his glossa drag you to the highest highs and the lowest lows, it’s not like you can do anything between those claws. He treats you as he pleases, but what pleases him most is making you cry out and twist in his grasp from overstimulation alone. Humans are so terribly sensitive.

[ilovecrows222]

Bit of a vent, I guess.

Sometimes I get sad that I can't openly worship, veil, set up altars for my gods and all of that. It is so sad to me that my dad thinks that paganism is "satanic" and "evil", I can't just say a prayer or give offerings. All I want to do is practice MY religion, I don't do things that are evil, and neither do other polytheist. Everytime I have to pray to the christian god and pretend that I feel anything other that just emptiness, it breaks a small part of my heart.

I know that my situation will change eventually and that when I'm older I'll be free to do whatever I want, but for now I have to hide and that is just horrible.

If you are going to something similar, I'm sorry, it will change and you will be ok. If you need any help, advice or just someone to talk to, you can message me. Be safe and blessed be <3

[mysticinsightstarot]

Hi I hope your doing well I’ve been needing advice I’ve been feeling stuck in life.Just these past 4 years since I graduated high school I have barely left the house. I’ve been sad and scared about life plus my future. I have dreams of becoming an actress but I’ve been too scared to take action because I’m afraid of failure. I’m so scared that I’ll fail and I won’t get my dream. I’ve never taking any acting classes because I let my fear and anxiety get a hold of me. I also scared that I won’t be good at acting. I fear because I didn’t start at the young age like others did that I won’t be any good.Even though I’m still young I keep feeling like I’m getting to old and what if the industry doesn’t want me. I’m also fear because of the color of my skin I won’t get the same opportunity, treatment or roles as other people in the industry. I constantly overthinking about everything. I get jealous of people living their dreams and being successful even though I’m happy for them I wish it would be me. I know I need to just take action and just try but I’m scared I don’t what to do I just want to be successful. Sorry if this is long I just needed to vent because I haven’t talk to anyone about it any advice please and thank you.💗💗💗

Lemme summarise a bit for you dear.

My granna passed away in 2021 but his wisdom is what came to my mind and instincts are pointing me to tell you about this.

Everything is a failure till the fact you give it a try. I know it seems too straight and vague for the situation but that's a deep point.

I want you to step into your power.

You are not old it's just in your mind. And also if you have dreams it's already confirmed you are not old enough aka tired enough to pursue them.

Stillness or stagnant life is also a time to enjoy and reflect. The things you have said to me in this Paragraph i have been there too.

If you want to know a simple thing you can do is from my personal experience.

Jot down everything you have on your mind any negative emotions on a piece of paper place it between your palms as like in prayer and say I release this version of myself ans welcome new me. Then burn or tear the paper away.

There's no such ritual like this but i usually do this and it helps me a lot.

As for acting my practical advice would be to try giving it a go for small gigs.

And i see you being the next Priyanka Chopra.

You should listen to her she kept coming to my mind a lot.

We love you and i love you . I know uou have the power to turn your dreams to reality and you will.

Fighting !!!♡

[stayxlix]

take your time on the next chapter <33 i know you’ll feed the greedy coconuts with a little spolier soon 🤭

how have you been doing? ive been so mia bc of interships and trying to get hours but i applied for that masters program so we’ll see how that goes 🥲 think im experiencing my first ✨adult✨ burn out

i hope everything is well!! i’ll keep u in my prayers <3 - 🍄

helloooo🤗💕 its so nice to hear from you!!<33 your reassurance about taking my time with the next chapter couldn't have come at a better time lol (definitely much needed since ive been having a bit of a struggle over the past couple weeks) but im getting back into it and i promise if i had something spoiler-worthy to share i would feed it to you right now🥹 (you are the club president after all) but unfortunately the chapter is only about half finished and a bit of a mess lmao. if you were to ask in a week though...i mightttt just have something ready for you..🤭

ah the dreaded adult burnout.🫠🫠 i feel for you and im so so sorry to hear that you've been a bit overwhelmed but dont forget that it's completely normal to feel this way.❤️especially when juggling so many responsibilities!! applying for a master's program is a HUGE accomplishment in itself and i’ll be sending all the positive vibes your way for an acceptance.💕 just keep in mind that the burnout is always temporary, it’s just a phase and it will pass. so dont forget to prioritize yourself and make some time for self-care along the way because you are most important. :)

as for me, i'm doing well, thank you for always asking.🥹your prayers and kind words mean so much to me (they always do) and i really do hope everything falls into place for you. please keep me posted on how you’re doing and don’t forget that im always here for support if you need to chat or vent or anything!!!<33 much love my little mushroom🍄 take care.🤗💕

[thewcllingtons]

❝ I forgive you, Amelia... ❞ Violet felt her eyes welling up with tears just at the words alone. Clearly, her hormones were ruling over her, but it is still very sweet to hear. She never expected an apology from Amelia. She figured that they would just pretend that it all didn't happen; even that was enough for Violet. It meant the world for her to hear that she regretted what she did. Waving off the thought,❝ I'm sure he'll be okay with it. It's just for one night. ❞ Granted, the nights have been quite exhausting lately from how sick she got. They were running on fumes, naps and a prayer at this point. But Violet figured she should be free from the noise given the room was on the opposite side of their own. She'd just have to remember to lock the nursery to make sure she didn't accidentally walk into it.

Violet knew that Amelia only came to vent off her chest so she made sure to listen while she cooked. It's clear that she needed a bit of sympathizing. ❝ Not that he wanted you two to get any closer, but it would be unfair to split you up when nothing was secured by that point... ❞ She stopped what she was doing when she heard about Mason already hooking up with someone else. Violet isn't surprised by the behavior, but a lot of this came as a shock to Amelia since she never witnessed that side of him. ❝ I wish I'd be shocked, but he is kind of a womanizer... Amelia, I'm sorry he did that to you. Trust me, I know how great of a liar Mason is. He could convince you that you mean the world to him before he throws you to the wind... You don't have to feel bad at falling in love with him. Or still loving him— You can't really control who you end up falling in love with. It's going to take time, but when it's over, I'm sure you'll be glad you didn't waste another second with that asshole. ❞ Knowing what he said behind her back just made this entire situation worse. ❝ No... He's never said that to me, but it doesn't mean he hasn't thought it. One thing I know is that it's never going to happen because I love him too much to leave him. ❞ Currently carrying his child, she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. Hearing what Amelia said about Luis made her smile. ❝ See, those are the qualities that are what you fall back on when things get tough. And I'm glad you think he is cute— I made sure Declan wouldn't set you up with someone that wasn't good-looking,❞ she said with a laugh. // @kiillerqueen

❝ You're right the past is the past , but that doesn't the fact that I should have given you a chance before just jumping to being a bitch just to be one. Than again I was also in a different mind space due to a certain someone. So I still want to apologize for my behaviour and I do hope that you can forgive me. If you can't I completely understand ... I probably wouldn't either. ❞ Amelia doesn't even take a moment to think about how strange it might come off to her sister in law to see such a different side of her. The more gentle side of the blonde isn't one that came out often , but it is almost like the male she is to marry in weeks to come was able to bring such a side back out in her. Ever since he came into her life the blonde always seems to be left thinking about her past behaviours and how she not only acted by how she had treated someone in a situation. ❝ I am sure that Declan is not going to like the idea of his drunk baby sister crashing at his place for the night , but I really don't care. He should see it as the two of us bonding. ❞ A small laugh escapes the blonde , but she does mean what she said about using it as an opportunity to bond with Violet since the two women are now tied together for life the moment she married Declan. ❝ So you're basically saying that my brother allowed me to continue to get close with someone he planned on having the final say on? I'm not angry about it anymore , Violet. I will admit that in the beginning that it hurt so much and maybe even more than it did when I had my first heartbreak by my first love , Gabriel. It hurt knowing that I allowed myself to fall in love with a man that didn't feel the same way back. Did you know that it had only been maybe two weeks before he was in a bar kissing some other woman and they left together. As much as I know I needed to learn from it , it doesn't change the pain I felt. Part of me hates the fact that part of me is always going to love him even though he doesn't deserve it. ❞ Without Gwen , Amelia doesn't have anyone to be able to express such emotions to. Plus she already knew that Gwen would tell her to basically suck it up and that isn't something she was looking for when she opened up to Violet. The blonde got to the part where she didn't even waste her time saying the male's name. Amelia sits there and listens to what she has to say , ❝ you know it doesn't surprise me that Declan would go out of his way to do something like that. We've had the communication conversation more than once and we're both on the same page about it. Did Declan ever say that he had a fear of falling into our father's habits before you two got married? I think the fact that he doesn't talk down to me. Never making me feel like everything that happens wrong is my fault. He is understanding of things even when explaining things to me in ways I didn't see a situation or think about. He brings out a better side of me than I've been in a long time. I don't think I need to comment on the fact that he obviously very handsome. ❞ Amelia laughs at the end of her answer to the fem's question. //@thewcllingtons

[yvningshowers]

disability amirite

[ventisslut]

hi i just need someone to talk to on tumblr and i chose you. (ask for both prayers and help)

anywhore, can’t stop thinking about topping venti. imagine tugging on his braids. you think they’re a sensitive?

sorry i’m in an angry mood rn and just wanna pull on something or bite something. honestly though, pretty sure he’d be into it

CW: Mentions of angry sex, playfighting, somnophilia, power dynamics in sex and relationship. I referred to Venti as husband once. Dom(?)Venti. All under the cut. Not proofread

An: hope you don't mind that i made this dom venti and included so much powerplay lmaoo i couldn't help myself. Also my dms are open if you wanna vent, talk or rant etc.

Oh yeah i do believe Venti's braids would be sensitive. Since they glow when he uses his powers they must be more different from a normal human's right?

I feel like he'd be surprised for the most part if you're usually shy (like me) and he usually takes the lead and initiates sex, when you suddenly pounce on him, with things escalating into a full making out session, with nails digging into eachothers skin and bruising grips, hips moving in sync with eachother to get some relief and then you pull on his braids in the heat of the moment and he suddenly lets out the neediest whine you've ever hear him let out. His hand shoots out to grab at your hair and he pulls you back by your hair, with you letting out a gasp, exposing your throat to him, giving him the perfect opportunity to give you some lovebites

maybe that'll calm you down a bit and remind you to not to act out against your beloved husband or he'll have to remind you who's boss around here wouldn't he?

<33

Ooo or imagine if you're like just having a bad day/week or something like that and you've been kinda stressed lately so you're snappy and overall angry and Venti has enough with your attitude so he fucks the anger out of you and you into submission, relieving you of your tension. You're always so docile and obedient after getting slammed on his cock so it works out quite well for both of you with him being able to deal with your mood swings without having a hurtful argument <3

Brat tamer Venti <33

Ngl i have some temper issues myself and i dream about angry sex with Venti a lot, and people do say having angry sex helps with blowing off some steam too so 😺

Venti would love playfighting too i think!!!! Wether it's sexual or not. Our man is very playful and this applies to sex too! He wants sex to be fun and be able to laugh with you, just as much as wanting to feel pleasure and have intimacy!! So he'd playfully wrestle you in bed too, maybe some tickle wars too!!

While he does love you giving up complete control since it shows your trust in him, he Loves it when you resist him too!! It thrills him so much when you try to fight against him but in the end he's a god, so it usually ends up with you leaking his cum, laying under him all tired and worn out while he tries to see if you'd still be up for another round. Or you know if you don't, then that's fine, he can always satisfy his needs while you're sleeping, thrusting into you while you're still asleep. (He loves somnophilia)

He is like a puppy you know? With endless energy, always curiously looking up at you with his big beautiful eyes trying to see if you're up for some fun.

[falling-pages]

Bend the Knee: Kyoya x Reader

Thanks @ouranbound for the idea <3

-

“I fear I’ve been so busy planning our future that I did not give time to notice how they were exploiting your present."

-

Sometimes Kyoya's betrothed needs help adjusting from their commoner life to one of splendor.

-

Kyoya Ootori x gn! Reader

Genre: Fluff, established relationship, arranged marriage, Commoner! Reader

Warnings: None

-

“Quit.”

“What?”

“Quit. You complain about that job every night, so just resign.”

You sit up on the couch, gasping to even begin to make the young heir understand how preposterous his words were. He barely even noticed, just kept his eyes glued to his novel as you were having a crisis. Just another normal Tuesday in this household. “I can’t quit just like that, without two weeks’ notice.”

“The other employees did.”

“But I’m their best,” you scramble, “I can’t bail while they’re still looking for two more people.”

Kyoya scoffed, licking his fingertip and turning a page. “Is that how they treat their best? Overworked and underpaid? They don’t sound like very good bosses to me.”

“It’s not that, it’s…”

It was that. It was exactly that, which made his smug smile all the more frustrating, igniting that fire under your nails to just punch his lights out. But then you’d have to admit it’s bothering you, and he would win, and even though you were engaged to marry this man, you just couldn’t have that.

You ran your hands through your hair, dropping back down onto the couch. His office futon wasn’t comfortable in the slightest, perhaps to discourage relaxation during work hours, but it’s what you dealt with in order to spend time with him in the evenings, a change you would certainly implement once your name was on the deed and in the will--a revamp of his working space was imperative.

But you supposed you couldn’t complain. It was your little life together, where he manages a multi-billion dollar empire and you whine about your job, where he pretends to not pay attention while you spill your guts. What was the sense in commenting when he knew you wouldn’t take his advice?

“I’ve worked hard for this position,” you settle on, closing your eyes and letting your brain do the work. “I’ve climbed the ladder and gotten promotions and I used to feel so important, and it isn’t my dream job, sure, but I’ve enjoyed the process.”

“Then it’s time to move on to something different,” he suggests, and his tone is softer than usual, though still careful to sound detached. “You know I have more than enough money to provide for you and our family someday. Is that not enough?”

You open your eyes when the voice sounds closer, right above you, and you see him kneeling down beside you on the couch. You start to sit up, but he pushes you back down, helping you stretch out your spine, shake out the stresses in your limbs. And when he takes your hand, drawing his long fingers over the arch of your wrist and against your palm, you were startled to see him at eye-level.

Kyoya Ootori bent his knee to no one except you, and only once, when he slipped that pretty gold ring on your finger. But here where you lay, your faces were on the same level, and you felt like an equal.

“The world I come from isn’t black and white, Kyoya,” you say, as he strokes the back of your knuckles. Such tenderness was seldom seen from him, but you revel in it, grasp onto it with dirty fists and brazen recklessness. To have him so attentive to your needs and listening to you was rare. It was a privilege, a standard you would soon be held to, as well. “To be just...launched into fame because my dad won the lottery is hard, I still need to adjust. It can all be gone in a second, so I can’t just drop something. I can’t...sever the safety net. They need me to keep the place afloat, and even as tough as it has been, I can’t leave on such bad terms. They need me. Just for a little bit longer.”

He sighs your name like the afterthought of a prayer, settling his other hand beside you on the couch. His fingers dig into every indentation, as if joining your discovery of its stiff cushions. The sheen in his glasses signaled he’d look into it, but there were more pressing matters to attend to at the moment.

He remained silent, odd for a man with all the answers, but he continued to look at you, not like he was trying to drill a hole through your head, but like you were a puzzle he was just beginning to figure out.

“Have I really been so absent, my love?” he whispered, raising his hand to your face. One finger stroked along your cheek, slowly, lulling you into peace. “I fear I’ve been so busy planning our future that I did not give time to notice how they were exploiting your present. Please, forgive me.”

All of the air was knocked out of your chest as his gentle words, so soft that you almost didn’t recognize him. When your parents betrothed you, and when you fell in love with him, agreed to marry him, even, you knew that he would always be an Ootori, with every string attached. You were ready for the challenge, ready to be with this man no matter what--but his sudden kindness was unexpected, the poetic words unfamiliar in your ears.

“Kyo, you think I wouldn’t forgive you?” you ask, taking off his glasses.

He let you, and when you set them on the nearby stand, his dark eyes glittered with something you had never seen before. Deeper than love, deeper than compassion, a feral protectiveness mixed with sadness skating across his face. It was so rare you saw him without this shield of his, you had almost forgotten how his eyes were like galaxies, like the murky night sky, expansive, swallowing everything in its path.

“If I had been suffering so, I wouldn’t forgive my partner had they not noticed,” he said.

“I’m not suffering...”

“Mmm-mm.” He shuttered your lips closed with his finger, and you couldn’t help but return the affection and press a kiss to it. He smiled, softly, and you thought about how long it had been since you had seen that smile, and how long it had been since he’s seen yours, too.

“I know I’m not the best at expressing my feelings,” he said, and when you snorted, he rolled his eyes and leaned away. “See, this is exactly why.”

You leaned up and kissed his cheek, giggling. The feeling was foreign in the pit of your chest, drumming near your spine. “I’m sorry. Please, continue.”

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat, softly wiping where you had kissed him, a repetitive, soothing motion. “I’m not the best at expressing my feelings. I’ve been raised to think that if you throw money at something, it will go away. It’s a powerful position to hold, knowing you can change everyone’s fates on a whim, but…” he swallowed, breaking eye contact, and you felt his energy shift into something vulnerable. “But you changed that. You make me feel...you make me feel. And at first I didn’t like it. I loved you, but I didn’t like what you did to me. I didn’t like how you made my world shift off-balance, until I realized my world was no longer my family’s company or stocks or what other stiffs thought of me. It was you.”

You tried to lean up and kiss him, but he grabbed your hands and held them in his own. “Please, let me finish, I want...I want you to know. We’ve been betrothed for so long, but I’d like to think we were only truly engaged when I bowed to you with that ring.”

“Okay,” you breathed, shallowly, taking it in, squeezing his hands to help him along.

“Because that took everything in me,” he continued, and his voice shook, his hands shook, and all you wanted was to gather him in your arms and hold him till he relaxed. “I was raised as a superior, but I’m not. Not with you. You are my equal, and I love you, and there’s no future with us if I can’t look beyond my own problems to see yours.”

Your stomach quelled in light of his confession. The life of luxury and fame you had so recently come to know was a blur compared to his childhood swathed in privilege. Only six years ago you were waiting tables to save up for college when your dad bought a lottery ticket for the hell of it. Now you were attending charity balls and engaged to the son of the richest man on earth.

He took a shaky breath and kissed your forehead, seeming to only find the courage once his lips met your skin.

“I notice. I swear I do,” he said. “I tried to act disinterested when you vent to me because it was a protection, it was a way to stay cold, because that was all I ever saw from my mother and father. They were separate people who happened to live in the same house. That’s not us. I’m not my father. I swear I notice. I notice your tired eyes and your tense shoulders and your fake smile and I want to fix it, but I don’t know how, so I clam up. I shut down. And I’m sorry. I truly am, my darling. I don’t know how you put up with me.”

It was an absolute miracle that you could even breathe at the end of his speech, panting almost as heavily as he was. And when you leaned forward to kiss him, this time he didn’t object, but pulled you even closer, shrouding your body with his, his sharp scent overwhelming your senses, clouding the air around you, even when there was no distance between you. His mouth was hot with passion, yet reserved, and though it wasn’t the first time you kissed, it was the first time you thought he meant it when he told you he loved you.

“Kyoya, I love you,” you whisper against his lips. “I have for so long. I wouldn’t have stayed with you if I didn’t, no matter what our parents said.” He laughed, nipping your bottom lip lightly. “And I don’t want you to change for me. You’re under so much pressure, I understand why you act like you do. But our home isn’t Wall Street. My heart isn’t some business bargaining chip. You don’t need to fight your nature to love me. It’s one and the same.” One of his tears splashes down onto your face. “So just see me. Love me. Choose to be vulnerable. I promise it won’t scare me off.”

“I will. I promise.”

He kissed you again, burning his brand against your tongue, hard like a handshake to know he meant it. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, like you were breathing the same air, using the same lungs, the same heart beating in tandem.

When you let go, his forehead remained pressed against yours. His eyes were slightly open, watching you, eyelashes fluttering against your skin. He was so soft, like this. You wanted to hold him forever.

“Come to bed with me,” you whisper, trailing a hand through his hair. “I just want to spend time with you.”

He kissed your forehead, rubbing his nose against yours in compliance. “I’ll spend all the time in the world with you, beloved,” he sighed, capturing your lips once more. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

-

Kofi

[jane-from-frebos]

After some careful consideration of possible outcomes and likelihood of death, I decided to stay away from Frebo's on the Mike and Arkha night but gave Mike a number to send regular check in messages and in case of emergencies (I wasn't going to go over no matter what, but I did want to hear about all the emergencies).

Here are some highlights from the messages he sent me. Yes he texts weirdly formal when he's panicked, only his therapist will know why. I made some edits to fix most of his capitalization and grammar but left a few that felt important/fun:

"here a bit early. Day shift says everything seemed pretty calm."

"Arkha walked through the front door and the power went out in the whole building..."

"Sorry, delayed because right after sending that the dolls started going on parade and I had to convince Jango to take me through the back rooms to get to the hand generator so I could use the spotlight. Lost Arkha."

"Found Arkha at the bottom of the ball pit unconscious but alive. pulled them out and set them aside to rest."

"dolls returned to their pit. Lost Arkha again"

"Jango informed me that Arkha was taken by the Mouse. Went to confront them. They ended up biting me for 15 minutes. Retreated to prize counter. Arkha found. They were in the bathroom. Heard Jango laughing."

"Darts soon, send prayers".

"I FUCKING DID IT".

"nevermind it was apparently only 270, had to fight Sam. Keep seeing him everywhere I look waiting to come back and finish me. Didn't take me to backrooms at least. Lost Arkha again"

"Jango is reciting my top one hundred most cringe inducing interactions over the store speaker. Unclear where he is broadcasting from. The spectre of Sam in my vision is laughing at me. Think I saw Arkha got pulled into the vents but it could've been a hallucination. Been having those. Might have said that already." ((He did not say that already))

"Hey Jane would really appreciate it if you could come down something is in the vents and I don't think it's Arkha." ((I made sure to tab into the message app for this one so he'd get the "read" notification.))

"good news I found Arkha behind the prize counter. They seem fine. Starting realize most of my panic might just be from the hallucinations. Feel a little silly, haha. No need for you to come down."

"JANE IT WASN'T ARKHA I'M BEHIND THE JUKEBOX PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COME HELP" ((I actually considered heading down there at this point just to see not Arkha, you know? But there's a real chance Mike would think I was like a demon and bash my skull in so no thanks!))

"Hey Jane. Managed to calm down enough to remember I had a phone. Charlie shoved me into one of the storage chests and put something heavy on top. Really thought he was about to beat me to death with nunchucks but I guess he's going for suffocation.

I'm going to guess at this point that you are not going to come in until morning which is very fair. When you do though, if you could find this box and free me I would be very appreciative. I will dedicate myself going forward to winning all of the stupid games that you always have to do for me."

"hey Jane can you kindly message Arkha and ask if they're alive? My eyes are telling me that they're in the box with me and horribly dead but I'm suspecting it's a hallucination."

"Dear Jane, Arkha is either dead in this box with me, dead on top of this box, or screaming violently as I hear mop bot whirling in what can only be described as a 'gleeful fashion'. Just trying to keep you updated. If I give you enough updates will you come and save me?"

"Jane. Hallucinatory Sam has left me. Arkha's dead body is gone. I hear no sounds from the outside. I am still stuck in the box. Jane you would tell me if you were a figment of my crumbling sanity, right?"

((I then sent my first actual response of the night, which was "no". At this point we did have a bit of actual conversation because I was a little worried if I left him in isolation that I would open that box in the morning and he would real life murder me. It seemed to calm him down))

"Jane can I be honest with you? I don't think there's actually anything on top of my box. That was part of the hallucinations I think. I really do not wish to leave the box now though. I feel like I'm going to start finding Arkha pieces if I do"

((Took some prodding but I managed to convince him to leave the box, which amusingly turned out to be a clown themed coffin))

"Jane I found Arkha. Jane. Jane Arkha is in the claw machine. Jane Arkha has apparently no memories of tonight since they fucking ball pit. Jane it's not even the haunted claw machine. Jane I have a question for you is Arkha cursed. Is Arkha cursed by a real actual Eldritch being. Is that why you swapped shifts with me Jane. Is that what this has all been for Jane? Is this the hell that you go through when I fail the arcade games? Is this my punishment? Are you god and this is hell? Jane I'm sorry for ever doubting you ever once."

At this point I decided that Mike had suffered enough and with Arkha securely contained in the claw machine I decided to head over with some emergency wine. Sam came over and drank with us and apologized about the psychological warfare. Feel like despite throwing Mike to the wolves for my own entertainment I managed to bond quite a bit with Mike through all this. Dude is kinda a homie. Also him and Sam play the same shitty mobile war game!

The three of us managed to just chill out in the prize counter drinking wine for the rest of the night. Nothing else activated and no animatronics came at us (besides Sam who is included in this group).

Just to be safe I added an entry on Arkha to the entity log. Their containment procedures are "get them stuck in the claw machine."

Also we totally forgot Arkha there and day shift had to get them out while they were opening and the day shift people were really mad at me. So, no consequences basically.

Took a little peak at the manager copy of the schedule and saw Arkha and Mike were going to be holding down the fort tomorrow.

Terrified to see how that ends. Almost want to watch, but there's absolutely no way I'm getting anywhere near that.

Sometimes people call something a "ticking time bomb". I feel like Mike and Arkha working a shift is more of a "clown juggling a warhead" in that eventually it will result in their instant death and widespread mass destruction but god if it didn't I'd wanna see that.

[sinfulcries]

iwaizumi or suna getting fucked in a confessional by priest reader please!

our father — iwaizumi x male reader

authors notes: new writing style again aha . literally so pissed that ive been vent writing a lot recently. so here’s a work that was birthed from it. stan ‘tennis’ and stream “runner”

tw. sacrilege, corruption, unethical practices, penance, cum eating, breeding, dubcon, noncon undertones, manhandling, virginity loss, power imbalance, manipulation, rough sex, age gap (10+ years), sex in a confessional

Iwaizumi was pure. Innocent and almost too blind to see just how corrupt the world actually was. With how he sat quietly in front of you, the thin barrier of the confessional’s walls making it hard to see his rather adorable expression-- He was just too cute not to toy with.

“Bless me Father for I have sinned,” The boy started, taking a deep breath before continuing. “My last confession was 8 months ago.” You merely hummed attentively, signalling him to confess his sins.

“I-- Father, this is a bit embarrassing…” It was cute the way he tripped over his words and you could vaguely see him fidgeting nervously through the other side of the wall. “It’s alright Iwaizumi-san. Please continue.”

With another shaky breath, Iwaizumi whispered, “I-Ive touched m-myself somewhere I wasn’t s-supposed to be touching....”

Was he that innocent? The thought alone made you grin mischievously wanting to corrupt the boy’s sweet innocence. “If you knew that it was wrong, then why’d you do it?”

The brunette’s clammy hands went to cup his face embarrassedly, and he could barely make out your wide grin through the wall. “My f-friends told me t-that it would feel good, I-I’m sorry father.”

“Well,” You started, licking your lips before continuing. “I need to make sure you have the spiritual guidance you need to get through a time like this.”

Iwaizumi keened at your words, Eyes shining hopefully as he sighed in relief thanking the Lord for giving him such a kind priest to guide him with his sins. “S-Spiritual guidance…?”

With a curt nod you responded, “Jesus Christ merits special attention for you to be guided.” Iwaizumi was more so confused however he was more than willing to receive this special attention!

“What do I do now father?” He asked, letting out an embarrassed sign once he heard the faint sound of your chuckling through the other side of the small space. “Kindly leave the confessional and sit beside me.”

Without another word, The boy complied obediently, Turning the knob of his door to exit towards your side. Iwaizumi’s gut was telling him not to trust you but how could he not? God wouldn’t abandon him! He gave him such an attractive priest to trust!

Now that he was beside you, He shifted his leg awkwardly away from yours, Avoiding your gaze. “Get on your knees and pray.” You instructed and Iwaizumi did exactly just that, clasping his hands together as he started chanting the hail mary loud and clear.

“Yeah that’s it keep praying, son. God will forgive you.” You mused watching him shut his eyes tighter, chanting the prayer much louder than before. Hajime could hear the sound of your belt unbuckling and your trousers hitting the floor however he payed no mind to it, continuing to pray before he felt the smooth head of your cock rubbing against his lip.

“What are you—mmf!” The boy was cut off as you shoved your cock into his mouth, grabbing him by the back of his head— forcing him to take every inch. You could see the panic in the boy’s eyes and your cock only twitched seeing just how helpless he was against you. “Shh, Don’t fight it little one. This is part of your penance.”

Iwaizumi trusted you. He wanted to be cleansed of his sins— and he would do anything just for God to forgive him again, even if it meant having his priest cleanse him in a way that made him feel so filthy.

As you gripped the back of the teens head, pushing him in to take more of your cock, You started to hold him in place— Thrusting into his mouth as you felt your high approaching.

“With how pretty you look just like this I’m sure God will save you.” You moaned breathlessly watching Iwaizumi sucking eagerly on your cock. Your hand which was previously situated on the males head was now on his cheek, lulling him in closer as you spilled your load inside of him.

Iwaizumi obediently swallowed the salty seed, gulping every last drop down his throat as you peered down at him, smiling at the sight of his teary eyes. “Good job. You’re one step closer to being forgiven.”

At this rate, Iwaizumi was bound to comply with every word that escaped your mouth. His trust was growing with each word you spoke and he could only obey as you ordered him to turn around— Taking off his underwear to show you his plump little ass.

“Fuck— How beautiful.” You cooed, giving his ass a harsh spank, watching the flesh jiggle teasingly against your length. “Father, I-I... C-Can God forgive me n-now?” The shorter man murmured shyly.

You gave a hum in response, lifting his tiny body with ease before pushing him against the confessional’s walls, Pushing your tip against his puffy hole before bottoming out.

A pained gasp left the teens lips and he could only sob as you pushed in more of you thick length inside of him. It was so painful! Was this really necessary for God to forgive him? Nevertheless, Iwaizumi was one good and faithful little boy, and his faith in God would never waver no matter how hard it was for him to take it.

A raspy moan left your lips as you started to fuck into Iwaizumi’s hole, a flurry of moans escaping his throat every time your tip brushed against his prostate. “Pray, little boy. Tell God how sorry you are.”

“I-I— Ahn~! sssso—rr ah!” He was a dumb mess, eyes crossed together lewdly as he recited random gibberish. It almost seemed like a memorized prayer with how dedicated he was trying to apologise, but you knew he was trying to tell you just how good your cock felt inside of him.

“Oh God Hajime— You’re gonna feel so much of God’s love inside of you.” Biting against the expanse of his neck, You cupped his leaking cock before continuing. “You’re gonna have so much of God’s love in you that it’s gonna be dripping out of your tight lil cunt.”

[glowingbadger]

Would you be willing to do yandere Seteth 👀?

Oh-hoo, yes, let's. I mentioned this idea to my fiance and he was like "I mean, Seteth is basically one crisis away from full Yandere anyway."

And I mean he's not wrong-

CW: Yandere! As always, please do not force yourself to read something that will make you uncomfy <3

Yandere!Seteth x GN Reader

NSFW 18+

- Naturally, Seteth is protective of you the moment you've worked your way into his heart. He's lost so many in his life, and even watched generations of humans come and go- and while part of him knows that this will happen to you with time as well, he can't stop himself from wanting to seize every moment of time with you that he can. Aside from which, the thought that he may fail to protect you, that his own folly could lead to you suffering or dying even sooner, is nothing short of horrifying to him.

- All it takes is for you to get just a little too close to danger, or for a fairly common illness to leave you just a little too visibly shaken, for the way Seteth's protective nature manifests to take a dark turn. "You have no idea exactly how fragile you are," he scolds you with a glare, forcing you to look at him with his hand at your chin, "Evidently, it must fall to me to ensure your safety. Humans are far too reckless by nature, and I will not allow harm to come to you."

- Seteth is excellent at keeping up appearances, and so while most would imagine he dotes on you similarly to how he treats Flayn, few would even guess how disturbed his obsession has truly become. He knows your usual schedule to the minute, and the more time goes on, the more impatient he becomes when you stray from it even the slightest bit. If you don't have a very good reason to be elsewhere, he expects you at his side. It's not long before he develops a habit of keeping you leashed while you're in his quarters, with the tether either in his hand or attached to his desk.

- The church has of course tried and executed heretics before, but Seteth was never in support of the practice himself. That is, of course, until he perceives a direct threat to you from someone else. In this case, he has no qualms about personally running them through at the Cathedral's alter. He considers violence towards you to be akin to violence towards a literal angel of the Goddess, and so takes pride in extinguishing those who would blaspheme by harming you.

- He still wants you to have interests, hobbies and friends- he's a nurturer at his core, after all- but he expects to have the last say on all of these aspects of your life, and if anything (or anyone) is deemed unsafe or unhealthy for you, he'll ensure that it's removed from your life by any means necessary. Yet this is one more reason why few would expect that, behind closed doors, he'll keep you tied to his bed or his desk for days at a time when something triggers his unhealthy obsession, hand feeding you, tending to your hair and clothes, etc.

- Seteth prefers not to ever lay hands on you in anger. Instead, the way he treats you in bed serves as punishment. He'll pin you down to his mattress by your wrists, your clothes quite literally torn from your body, and with fierce emerald eyes boring into yours, he'll demand that you express how deeply sorry you are for misbehaving. Anything from hurting yourself accidentally through clumsiness, to forgetting a meal, to socializing too amicably with 'dangerous' types, can all result in you being forced to recite prayers of contrition while bound to Seteth's bed.

- He's a patient man, and is more than capable of edging you until tears fill your eyes and you beg his forgiveness and to be allowed to cum. As he brings you to the brink of your orgasm with his fingers for the fourth time in a row, then pulls away, you whine in absolute submission in desperation- and he merely sighs ("not mad, just disappointed"), and says with genuine tenderness in his voice, "I don't wish to be cruel to you, my love, but you insist on forcing my hand."

- As a more regular "obedience exercise" of sorts, he quite enjoys the comfort and security of having you kneel at his feet as he works, resting your head on his thigh or- if you've been good -playing and sucking on his cock as he works. Having you right there, safe and sound beneath him, is immensely soothing to him. He'll sigh and sit back, then gently pet your hair once he's finished a particularly droll pile of paperwork. If you look up at him with pleading eyes, he'll smile warmly and allow you to suck him off for a little while as a reward for staying in his sights, nice and still and docile for him.

- Goddess help you if you've done something to seriously worry or anger him. If you're reckless in a battle, or some other dangerous behavior that prompts him to really punish you- he'll throw you down onto his bed and spend the night absolutely ruining you. Thanks to his lineage, he's capable of several brutal rounds in an evening, so he'll hold you down and slam his cock into you over and over, until your entire body trembles and his cum covers your chest, your face, and drips down your thighs. It's an absolutely primal need to "mark what's his," so to speak, and to ensure you know exactly how weak you are, how small and fragile your human body truly is.

- Once he's vented all of his rage at the thought of you endangering yourself, you're well and covered in his cum, gasping for breath and incapable of any more than a whimper. "Look at me," he demands, and if you can't obey immediately, he'll force you to do so with his own hand, "Let this be a lesson to you. I will not tolerate any threat to your safety- not even one that comes at your own rash decisions. Do I make myself clear?"

[beardedmrbean]

I'm sorry if this is burdening you at all but I just need to vent to somebody who I think is a sane human being, and reasonably nice.

Ever since I was 8, maybe even younger, I have had trouble socializing with other people. I liked to hang out, liked to play, ect, but I had a very short "internal battery." Whether that was me just rationalizing being lazy or true, I don't know any more.

I'm 21 now, and I'm scared that because of childhood habits that persisted well into adulthood for me, I'm fucked. I am personable with people at work, nice with them as I can be, told repeteatedly by several coworkers that I am their favorite manager, ect.

And yet if there is a group hanging out I'm not invited. If one of the other mangers who similar in age to me is hanging out with a another similarly aged manager, and they talk about hanging out, I'm not even asked if I'd like to join. I feel so fucking discombobulated when it comes to social interactions. I've never been in a serious relationship, and I feel I might have fucked myself for life because of some fault I can't see or feel within myself.

And I can't even vent to anybody I know in real life because I don't feel like my problems really compare. I have tried to in the past, like to my mom or brother, and they told me I basically brought it on my self.

I spent my last year in high school essentially looked away in my room playing games and going to school, and nothing else. No one talked to me at school, wanted to hang out, or even offered.

And here I am venting to someone I know only through a dumb ass social media site because I have literally no one to talk to in real life. I don't even know if I have the possibility to go to a therapist to help me deal with this shit, because bills are already taking 2/3rds of my paychecks.

I'm just... I'm so worried I'm going to grow up to be some loser who no friends in his 30's, who grown fine with that. Each day feels like a repeating cycle, I'm fine, I'm at work and happy, making sure no one else is getting overwhelmed or fucked over, and then I hear someone making plans. Or that the girl I kinda had a crush on (which I haven't felt since I was 14) is feeling sad because another coworker is with someone else now.

I feel like I'm in a fucking pool of misery, dragging myself out long enough to get a few clear breaths, and then at the last second I'm sucked back in to the pit.

I'm sorry if you didn't want to read all that. But you are the only person I have seen on here who is willing to listen to issues like these, and provides support, even if it's just a simple prayer and thought, it's something more than what I get in real life.

Everyone is welcome to come and vent, so ya no need to apologize there.

for practical help on the therapy front, it's gonna be a while but in november/december when open enrollment for obamacare opens up check out the plans they have, cost is usually really low or zero if you don't make much money

as for the friends thing, you're still young and got a lot of time to go

when you enter in to the working world you may find some people that you click with, church is also good for that if you feel so inclined.

It's not a bummer forever though, you'll make it just might need to do a bit more effort here or there.

I got faith in you though, and yes I will be praying for you as well

[starsheild]

AU August 2nd- Marriage of Convenience

AU August 2nd 2021- Marriage of Convenience

It was almost as though his time tied on the wagon was the calm in the eye of the storm for Prowl. The cycle had started in a whirl of activity and ended much the same way, and Prowl had only been swept helplessly along by it all. 

His processor had skipped a little when he had finally come face to face with the speaker and discovered that the Monsters of Mountains were just mecha. Strange looking mecha to be sure, but beings whose fields he could teek, his optics could observe, and his audios could hear even if his processor could not process the glyphs being spoken for the most part.

The visored mech had lifted his chin forcing Prowls helm one way and then the other as he studied him. When he spoke again it was in heavily accented but perfectly fluent Praxian. “Just ya keep quiet and we’ll get ya mov’d outta here.”

Prowl simply nodded in agreement. It was not as though he had much choice. There was no point in calling for help, for there was no one to rescue him. While his tired processor was sluggishly generating questions as it tried to process his surprise and confusion, in the moment it was so much easier to just obey.

The bindings that had secured him on the wagon were cut away and Prowl swayed as their support fell away, the stiffness of his frame after being restrained for so long catching up with him.

“Easy there.” The stranger murmured, catching Prowl quickly yet gently. He supported Prowl easily until he found his pedes again, then helped Prowl to the edge of the wagon, passing him down to others waiting on the ground, issuing orders in a dialect Prowl couldn’t follow.

Those on the ground handled him just as gently, helping him to the edge of the clearing where Prowl was met with a new sight starting enough to force his processor to focus once more. He had seen images of zap-ponies, of course, but he had never actually thought that he would see a real one, much less ride one. But that was clearly what his helpers intended as they lifted him and placed him on the small beast, guiding his servos to the stiff upright mane that ran the length of the creature's crest pointedly.

One of them spoke quickly, stopping only when Prowl blinked at him stupidly. After a nanoklks consideration and a brief consultation with his companion he squeezed Prowl’s fingers in to the mane. “Hold. Strong. Hold strong?”

That at least Prowl was able to process, and he grabbed hold and nodded. Relieved, the one that had spoken stepped away, leaving Prowl with the single mech to hold the pony. After a few vents to process the strangeness Prowl looked around, watching in silence as the mecha swarmed over the clearing, gathering up everything and loading on an entire herd of zap-ponies like the one he currently sat upon. Even the wagons were quickly broken down and loaded on the beast until there was nothing left in the clearing.

It was then that the first mech that had spoken, the leader, Prowl decided, had appeared at his side and taken command of Prowl’s mount. At his motion the entire company set out, and Prowl had resigned himself to holding on for the ride. The canopy of the crystal forest hid the stars in the sky above, leaving in darkness that his optics could not penetrate and input from his sensor wings that his processor could not interpret.

He wasn’t entirely sure how he reached their destination. The next time he really processed anything he realized he was inside some sort of building and being helped from the zap-pony. A short, dark mech appeared, taking him from the leader and guiding him away.

He led Prowl into a small room, directing him to the berth within, and for the first time Prowl balked.

The mech stopped, then chuckled softly. “Easy mech. Yer not fer me. Not fer no one at the moment. Ya hungry, jus’ wanna charge?”

Prowl started to nod, then caught himself. That was not a yes or no question, and he was suddenly at a loss.

“Ah, ya can speak now, much as ya want. Yer safe here.” There was a hint of sympathy in the dark mech’s tone and field.

“Fuel would be appreciated.” Prowl said, more relieved than he liked at being allowed to speak again. He settled on the edge of the berth, automatically evaluating it as it gave beneath him. Firm, but not so bad. As tired as he was at the moment, Prowl suspected that he could have recharged on the hard floor beneath his pedes with little difficulty. “And, maybe also, your designation?” 

The mech laughed. “Sorry mech. Meh manners are slippin’. Ori’ll prolly whap me when ‘e hears. ‘M Ricochet. Rico, if ya prefer.” He fetched a cube of energon from a side table that Prowl had not noticed at first, taking a small sip before offering it to Prowl. “Here.”

“Thank-you.” Prowl accepted the energon and the gesture of goodwill, even if he had not felt anything of the sort necessary. He was a captive, was he not? His first question had gone over well enough, so after a few sips of the energon he dared another.

“May I know what my fate is to be?”

The dark mech, Rico, shook his helm. “That’s for Ori ta tell. He’ll be by, once ya’ve had a chance to fuel and charge a bit. From what ‘ave heard, they don’ make this easy on ya’ll.”

“Those that have been sent before?” A bit of hope crept in to Prowl’s spark. While he still had no idea what was to happen to him, he doubted that they would go through the trouble of fueling and allowing a mech that they were planning to end for whatever reason to rest.

“Yup.” Ricochet nodded in agreement, watching as Prowl finished off the energon. He held out his servo for the empty cube. “Want more?”

“I am not full.” Prowl said as he handed it over. “But I am no longer empty, and I fear that much more will not set well with my tank right now.”

“Smart mech.” Ricochet observed. “I’ll leave ya to charge then. Yer safe in here. Don’ leave the room though.”

“I will not.” Prowl promised.

“Good. Ya need anything, jus’ holler for me or call fer Punch. He’s my ori.”

“He was the one that brought me back?”

“Yup.” Rico smiled, the single glyph answer full of pride and affection. “‘Need anything ‘fore I go?”

Prowl shook his helm, then caught himself as he optics landed on the glowing crystal on the table with the pitcher. “Will you leave the light?”

Ricochet followed his gaze, and actually seemed a bit surprised at the request. “‘Course. Ya can cover it if want it darker, or I can bring another if ya want more.”

“One will suffice. Thank you.”

Prowl back on the berth as the door closed behind Ricochet. He did not hear any sort of lock engage, which surprised him a little. With a soft vent he let his optics go dim and his processor wander. As recharge overtook him his last conscious thoughts were of his brother, and a silent prayer to whoever might be listening that the Priest had kept his word and delivered the message.

***

The creak of the opening door pulled Prowl from recharge. He struggled to sit up, groaning as his processor slowly booted. When his optics finally focused they revealed the other mech he could clearly recall from the dark cycle.

Punch, Ricochet had named him when the dark mech had claimed him as his originator.

“Feelin’ better?” Punch asked as he came closer, offering Prowl a full cube of energon after taking a sip, just as Rico had done before.

Prowl’s optics swept over the mech curiously as he accepted the cube. The bright yellow and blue of his armor was a sharp contrast to Ricochets, though as his processor continued to clear Prowl could see the resemblance in frame and manner. “I am, thank you. Ricochet was very considerate.”

“Not enough ta ask ya yer name.” Punch grumbled. “Since ‘e couldn’t tell meh when asked.”

“My designation is Prowl.” Prowl offered with the appropriate cant of tilt of his helm and doorwings as well as the intonation of his designation that added layers of meaning beyond the mere glyph.

“Well then Prowl, welcome ta Polyhex.” Punch smiled, the expression if not warm, at least as welcoming as the glyphs. “Rico said ya had questions.”

“Many.” Prowl admitted, debating between what he desperately weighed as the most important, and lesser weighted ones that were not as frightening in their potential answers posed by his processor. Finally he settled on the latter. “I must confess I am surprised at hearing Praxian spoken.”

Punch’s expression softened a touch, his frame settling into an even more relaxed posture as he answered. “There’s a good number ‘o us that know it. Ya seem like a smart one, though. Bet ‘cha pick up in Poly quick enough.”

“Then I am to continue functioning,” Prowl sighed, the words slipping from him before his processor could catch the escaping thought.

“‘Course ya are. Don’ know what they tell ya happens ta the mecha they leave any more. Don’t really care, honestly.”

“They tell us nothing of what supposedly happens to the Offerings.” Prowl admitted. “All I know, all I know that anyone knows for sure, is that they are never seen from again.”

“Well, there is that.” Punch nodded in agreement. “Seein’ as how we can’t have ya goin’ back. But we’ve never off’d anyone they’ve offered without cause. So long as ya agree ta stay, ya live here jus’ like one ‘o us.”

“Like one of you? As a… Polyhexian?” Prowl stumbled over the glyph, his stutter the result of a great deal of surprise, and no small amount of anxiety

“Free ta live and enjoy functioning.” Punch confirmed. “Soon as one little detail’s taken care of.”

“And what is that?”

“Yer bondin.”

[contrarywiseizybel]

Kinktober 2022

Day 25: Barty Crouch Jr/Tom Riddle Jr 

Barty Crouch Jr. had fucked up.

He never made mistakes, it was part of why Mr. Riddle had hired him. That, and Mr. Riddle hated Crouch Sr. Well okay, it was mostly because Mr. Riddle hated Crouch Sr.

But once he had been offered the job of Mr. Riddle’s personal assistant, a spit in the face to the demand that he follow in his father’s footsteps, once he had that foot in the door Barty ensured he would never give Mr. Riddle a reason to fire him.

He worked harder than anyone in the company, up at 4:00 am and rarely home before midnight. He would be there for Mr. Riddle’s ever need, from making his coffee order (baristas never managed to get the proportions right) to picking out his outfits (the stylist who provided the individual pieces was good but didn’t know how to mix them in the most flattering way), to riding back to Mr. Riddle’s house after big events (he deserved a chance to vent and the drivers couldn’t be trusted with that information). Everything he did was for Mr. Riddle and he loved every moment of it.

And he was certainly rewarded for his hard work. After all, it had been Mr. Riddle who arranged for his penthouse apartment and his luxury car. It had been Mr. Riddle who had bought him a new wardrobe after his father officially disowned him. It had been Mr. Riddle who took him to the finest restaurants and most exclusive galas.

Barty wasn’t sure if what he felt towards Mr. Riddle was love, neither of them having a good idea just what that felt like, but Barty knew that Mr. Riddle was the single most important person in his life.

Which made his mistake all the more upsetting.

He couldn’t even find how he had fucked up. If he could figure out why the government contract had been denied instead of escalated then he’d at least be able to fix it. But instead all he could find was the denial, approved by him, and a very rude reply from their contact in the Department for International Trade.

He was in so much trouble.

Barty considered taking his first ever personal day, something he hadn’t even done when his father had died. Well, that had mostly been because he needed an excuse to miss the funeral, but still.

Barty had also considered just leaving the country, but even for him that seemed a bit extreme.

So with a deep breath, and a prayer to any god who may have been listening, Barty entered Mr. Riddle’s office.

“Ah, hello Barty.” Mr. Riddle greeted with a fond smile. A fond smile he would probably never see again. “Is there something you need?”

Forgiveness? Mercy? A swift death?

“Sir, I regret...I mean I need to...sir I’m so sorry but…” He took a deep breath, ignoring the amused and dare he imagine fond expression from his boss. It wouldn’t be there long. “I fucked up.”

The slip in his language mortified Barty but didn’t even earn a raised brow from Mr. Riddle. Instead he tilted his head to one side, like an inquisitive bird of prey just before an attack.

“How so?”

Like a bandage, or maybe like a rotten tooth, Barty just ripped the truth open. He explained the contract that he swore he had never seen before and he explained the rejection of a deal that would have made them even more powerful in the global market and he explained the rather rude response he had received and how he probably deserved that.

“I’m so, so sorry sir.” He concluded, head hung low in despair.

Silence settled over the office, the only sound Barty’s rushing heartbeat echoing in his ears. He refused to look up, too afraid of what he would see. Let him live in the memory of when Mr. Riddle didn’t hate him.

And then, finally, that deep voice called out to him. “I know.”

“S-sir?” Barty stuttered.

Mr. Riddle typed something on his laptop, swinging it around to face Barty. On the screen he watched as someone typed rapidly in the darkened office, barely illuminated. It must have been at night then, and Barty realized whoever it was had been sitting at his desk.

“Sir?”

“Karkaroff broke into your computer last night while we were at dinner. He must have edited the time stamp on his reply message, so it looked like you had sent it. I’ve already contacted who I need to about reopening negotiations and Karkaroff will be...dealt with.”

The relief was so fast, so all encompassing, that Barty fell to his knees. He didn’t feel any shame, not in losing his composure in front of Mr. Riddle.

“I’m pleased you told me, but you will still need to be reprimanded, Barty.” Mr. Riddle said, ignoring his display of relief. In fact he had just gone back to his work like Barty wasn’t even there. Like nothing had changed between them even as he spoke of reprimand. “Approach.”

Barty did so gladly, not running but only just barely. Once in front of Mr. Riddle he waited, regulating his breathing and controlling his need to fidget. He wouldn’t rush Mr. Riddle, not when he was being forgiven for allowing Karkaroff, that bastard, to slander the company. Worse, to slander Mr. Riddle.

Finally after a few minutes Mr. Riddle turned, inspecting Barty with a critical eye. After a moment of watching, Mr. Riddle reached into his desk drawer and withdrew a rather pretty box. It was a deep red, almost the same reddish brown of Mr. Riddle’s eyes, and wrapped in a black ribbon. The box was placed on the desk, just far enough that Barty had to bend some to reach it.

He opened the box and almost slammed it shut.

But Mr. Riddle was watching and he couldn’t react so quickly. So instead he fought down the blush threatening to overtake his cheeks and inspected the...gift? Or more likely, the punishment.

Sitting on a velvet lining was a silver device who’s purpose was soon obvious. The phallic shape, the pad lock and keys, there was no questioning it.

His boss had just handed him a cock cage.

“My...my punishment...sir?”

“Remove your slacks and I’ll attach the cage. You will wear this until tomorrow morning, the same amount of time it took for you to notice what Karkaroff had done.” Mr. Riddle smirked, that beautiful but deadly smirk that never failed to make Barty’s heart rush. “Well?”

He almost dropped the box in his hurry to shed his pants. The designer trousers dropped to the floor, along with the fashionable but practical boxers, until nothing separated his cock from Mr. Riddle’s sight.

A cock that was already rising, but given the circumstances Barty figured it couldn’t be helped.

Mr. Riddle’s soft hand reached out, taking the box almost gently, as though Barty would startle should he move too fast. And maybe he would, but Barty doubted he would have run away. As it was he froze perfectly still while Mr. Riddle opened the cage and finally touched his prick.

He gave a sadistic pump, too dry to truly be pleasurable but still sending sparks up Barty’s spine. Quick as a flash Mr. Riddle trapped his cock, locking the cage with a very loud, very final sounding click.

The cage was surprisingly light and didn’t add much to his cock, which would be a blessing if he was expected to return to work. Once his clothes were returned to their rightful place Barty could barely see any difference, though he could certainly feel the difference.

“I’ll...just until tomorrow morning, sir?” He asked, gasping suddenly as Mr. Riddle’s hand grabbed his ass to pull him closer.

“Until then.” He agreed, leaving a kiss against his bulge, so soft that Barty thought he imagined it. “And then we’ll see about your reward for being honest with me.”

“Oh, yes sir.”

[cappsikle]

you belong // fred and george weasley

Pairing: fred x platonic!reader x george

Summary: you feel hopeless and that you don’t belong, but the twins are there to lend a helping hand

Warnings: depressi hours - talks about not belonging, giving up etc. not proofread, ending is kinda trash.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: this is basically me venting about how i’ve been feeling recently. 

tags: @ryeryemilani @a-little-too-much just ask if you’d like to be added!

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!!

-------

Why did it have to be this hard? It shouldn’t be, but it is. You tried, you really did try, but no matter how much so, you still felt like you didn’t belong. You don’t belong. It's been five years, and you still didn’t have anyone to call your friend. Sure, you hung out with some groups and talked to them occasionally, but you didn’t have a tight-knit group with anyone, no bond that connected you, and no one to turn to when you needed it. Yeah, it sucks.

You hated to admit it, but you’ve spent more nights crying over this than actually smiling. You didn’t want to, god you were so sick of crying, but when it feels like the world is doesn’t like you, doesn’t want you, it’s hard to keep the tears at bay. And that’s where you found yourself on this night, sitting on the couch in the Gryffindor common room, staring out into the fire as tears cascaded down your face.  

Today had been a particularly hard day. It’s not like anything really happened to cause this, but the feeling of self-hatred was more intense than usual. There was just this heavy weight in your chest, a pressure that was holding you down, keeping you entrapped in your mind. You couldn’t escape, your thoughts chasing wherever you went. You were annoying, you weren’t good enough, no one wanted you.

The pain in your chest increased as the intensity of your thoughts. You don’t even know why you tried anymore. Why try to make friends when no one wanted you around? Why try to be friendly when all you got were the back of people’s heads?

You were losing hope. Hope for having a valuable friendship, hope for a bond so strong that nothing could come between you, hope for a life that you felt was worth living. You glanced at the clock, the hands showing it was 1 am. You sighed to yourself as a few more stray tears slid across your blotchy cheeks. You supposed you should head off to bed, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to move.

Your mind started spiraling again, spouting insults to yourself, that was until you heard two sets of feet pattering down the stairs, breaking the solitude. You faced the fire again, squeezing your eyes shut and lowering your body against the couch in a pathetic attempt hide yourself from their view.  

///

Fred and George had planned to wake up in the middle of the night and brainstorm some new product ideas they would create in the future. So, as the clock struck 1 am, both sat up, grabbed the needed equipment and made their way down as quietly as possible. What they hadn’t planned, however, was the lone figure sitting on the couch, curled into themselves. They both stopped in their tracks, looking at each other before continuing to descend the stairs. Maybe if they kept quiet you both could just sit without disturbing each other.

That was, until they heard you let out something akin to a choked sob. You covered your mouth with your hand, hoping to whatever god was out there that the boys at the bottom of the steps didn’t hear it. Your prayers were left unanswered as you heard them walk closer to the couch.

George and Fred glanced at each other a second time, a look of concern and curiosity crossing their features. Had they known what you were doing down here, they wouldn’t have disturbed them. But, as their presence was known, they knew they couldn’t just leave when someone was in a state such as this.

Slowly, the twins made their way to the back of the couch, George reaching out to gently grasp your shoulder, which you practically jumped out of your skin at the contact.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,”

“It’s okay...” you brought your hand up to your chest, trying to slow down your racing heart. You hadn’t expected the strange boys to take notice of you, and you definitely didn’t expect them to come over and talk to you.

You looked behind you at the pair of redheaded twins. The one with his hand on your shoulder, that was George, and the one standing next to him was Fred. You don’t exactly know how you were able to tell the twins apart, but you just could. It was possibly due to the many years of close observation, not that you’d admit that to anyone.

Fred, the shorter of the two, spoke up next, “are you alright over here? We heard you crying."

You shrugged your shoulders at his question, why would he care? No one else did. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

George took his hand off your shoulder, much to your delight, and opted to sit next to you instead, Fred following suit on the opposite side of you. “C’mon, love. What's up?”

You wanted to say something, you really did. But you knew once you started speaking, they’d get bored or annoyed and leave. That's happened way too many times to count. Again, you shrugged your shoulders and brought your hand to rub your arm, trying to rid the internal chill spreading through your bones.

“It’s just... I’m lonely,” you took a deep breath and looked down at your lap, not wanting to see the looks on their faces. “I don’t have any friends, no family here, and I’m all alone. No one to talk to, no one to hang out with-” you don’t know why you kept practically spilling your guts to these strangers, but it felt so good to finally tell someone other than your teddy bear all the pent up feelings you’ve had for years.

George leaned back a tad to meet his eyes with Fred, his eyebrows drawing together in concern. The twins new who you were, well, they knew of you. They've always seen you around, occasionally accompanied by different groups of people, but other than that you always seemed to be alone. Had they known how you felt, they would’ve spoken to you ages ago.

After a few deep breaths, you kept talking. “I just feel like maybe there isn’t any point in trying anymore. No one cares about me, no one even looks at me. I’m just a background character in everyone’s story. I’m always chosen last.” you couldn’t help but let more tears fall from your already red and puffy eyes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to wipe them away.

George took notice and hesitantly wrapped his arm around your shoulder whilst Fred placed a hand on your knee and squeezed gently. In a state like this, you wanted nothing more than to push them away, but the warmth they provided just from those simple touches alone brought a comfort you had never felt before.  

They didn’t know you, yet their hearts yearned for the chance to make you feel better, feel happier. They wished they could take away this pain and make you happy. And that’s what they intended to do. George rubbed your shoulder and let you cry, looking over to his twin yet again, sharing a knowing look.

Fred spoke up first this time, bringing your attention to him, “look, we may not know that well, but we sure as hell want to!” you look at Fred with a deadpanned look and chuckled to yourself.

“I know you’re just saying that to-”

“We’re not,” George cut in, “truth is, we’ve always seen you around and you genuinely look like a great person,” Fred nodded his head in confirmation “we’d love to get to know you.”

“Look, I appreciate the offer, but sooner or later something will happen that’ll leave you guys ahead and me left in the dust. That's how it’s always been.”

George shook his head as Fred spoke up, squeezing your knee gently to bring your attention towards him, “we vow to never let that happen. We vow to make all your days' worth living-”

“-to make you see that you’re important-”

“-to bring joy and laughter-”

“-and, we vow to show you that you belong here.”

You didn’t really know what to say. What could you say to something like that? You were touched, your heart beat just that little bit faster in your chest. They seemed serious, and honestly, why would they lie? You felt a small, almost invisible, smile grace your lips. You'd never had someone say any of these things to you. But you still had your doubts. You had to make sure.

“Are you sure you guys really want to do this?”

As both Fred and George looked at you, hearts reaching out, they sealed their promise with a sentence spoken in unison, “we’re sure.”

And you know what? They were right, and they did what they said they’d do. It took time, of course, a lot of it, for you to finally feel like you had a place in the world. The three of you quickly became inseparable, doing absolutely everything together. It did take you some time to warm up to them, but with their joyous laughter and constant upbeat energy, it was almost impossible not to love them, impossible to not want to be around them all the time.

However, when those bad days came, they were always there to reassure you. No matter how hopeless you felt, or how difficult it was to get out of bed, Fred and George were always there, lending their hands and hearts out to you, throwing you a rope when you needed a tug. You never really said this to them, but you truly believe they saved you. They saved you from believing life wasn’t worth it, from seeing the world as nothing but grey and dull. They brought the colour to your life.

So, yes, you did finally have people to talk to, people confide in when you needed it, and you finally created a bond with someone. You finally had those people who wouldn’t turn their backs on you, who strived to make your day full of laughter, to make your heartbeat faster. You finally felt like you belonged.