#thanks for your patience ;u;

[notherpuppet]

hey pooks wheres pt7 its been a week 😢😢

I am a just one woman with a job and limited free time 🥰 I promise I’m more eager to share it than anyone else 😘😘😘

This is the schedule of release of the next parts for those wondering:

[noviluniumx]

i swear im cooking ,, side profiles are hard to draw btw wtf (will be fixed in the final)

[comfort-character-central]

Your f/o would never make you feel bad about your intelligence or the way your mind works. Even if you have a hard time understanding or processing, they'll never see you as dumb, stupid, or anything of that sort. They support you completely and the last thing they want is for you to feel insecure about it.

[choccy-milky]

Pls I beg Clora wearing only Seb’s shirt

she just can't wear it if she plans on getting anything done😇

[elkkiel]

KITTY TOKEN: WORLD TOUR 2024

8 NIGHTS • 67 LIL GUYS • TUMBLR EXCLUSIVE

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻

DATES:

[SOLD OUT]

LEG I — Vessel I

Night One

Night Two

LEG II — Vessel II

Night One

Night Two

LEG III — Vessel III

Night One

Night Two

LEG IV — Vessel IV

Night One

Night Two

[shamedumpster]

Utterly obssessed and in love with goth cosette in your drawing 😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️. May we have more goth cosette please

I have been sitting on this ask because @eposetteweek was coming up! Ask and ye shall recieve! >:)

[soothedcerberus]

Chromia and kitty Chro(mia) for @/bestperuse this was a delightful commission to work on :]

[speakofcompersion]

For jjong month ♡ part [3/4]

[hackfurs]

posting an overdue ych for @kinadavina !

[loveundrwrld]

yandere alphabet- yandere femboy

template i used can be found here

(cws: blackmail, violence mention, very unhealthy relationship dynamic, stalking)

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

he can be very smothering with his affection, very touchy and clingy. he likes to hug your arm or hold your hand, rest his head on you, and cover your face with light kisses. but, with his verbal affection- he’s more sugary sweet than he is passionate or intense.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

mischa is not the violent type, nor is he really able to fight anyone... sorry reader, but he's not willing at all to get his hands dirty. both since he wouldn't know how to fight, but also since he thinks of himself as being better than people who use violence on others. he thinks of himself as a normal person, who doesn't need to lower himself to such things... despite everything else that he does. he’d also be deeply unnerved and scared in any situation in which physical violence is involved, for both your sake and his own.

in the right circumstances though, he may blackmail someone, manipulate someone, or lie to ruins someone’s reputation… but that’s mostly if he feels threatened by a romantic rival.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

mischa is a little sadistic in the emotional sense, but he's more likely to tease you or to poke at your issues while pretending to be innocent. he’s more trying to get a reaction out of you than to actually hurt your feelings though.

he has a general sense of when he’s gone way too far in his teasing of you, and he’ll ease up on that sort of thing for a bit if so. and, naturally, turn up the affection towards you to distract and comfort you.

generally speaking, he’s very clingy, needy, and affectionate- he spends a lot of time around you. just about as much as he can get away with, really.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

yes- kissing and cuddling. he'd be pouty if his darling refused his affection, and would try to act upset so that you would feel bad enough to let him kiss you. he can be pushy and insistent on getting you to lower your boundaries… like allowing him to sleep in the same room as you, or letting him sit in you lap.

he’ll also make sure that you say things like “i love you” or call him pet names from time to time. after all, he does that to you, so why not return the favor?

he isn’t pushy about sex though, that for him is something he can easily do without. 

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

since part of his ideal relationship is to essentially act a certain role 24/7… he is not vulnerable to you in any real way, not at all.

even though he loves to put on crocodile tears and feign being hurt or insulted by things, he's actually not going to tell you about his real fears and insecurities. it may seem strange to you that he seems so open with some things, but also seems strangely cagey about others. 

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

if you physically attacked him, he'd be shocked and would probably be very offended. he doesn't see himself as being an actual threat to you, so this would be a betrayal in his eyes.

but if you just stood up for yourself verbally- he’d just pretend that you were being cruel or mean to him, in the hopes that you’ll think that you were overreacting. but, secretly he is pleasantly surprised and amused that you did- he finds it fun to mess around with you, seeing how long it takes for you to decide that enough is enough.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

seeing how you react to him, and how much he can push your boundaries before you react is very much a game to him. he's amused by seeing you squirm and sigh when you're overwhelmed.

seeing you try to spend less time with him or avoid him does upset him a little though. he does genuinely want to spend as much time as possible with you, after all.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

a darling who doesn’t do anything he asks, and is evasive, avoidant, and emotionally distant to him would also cause him to reach a certain reaction from him… where he feels he needs to step up what he’s doing to get any sort of fun out his darling. this is where he gets more emotionally sadistic, and risks angering you to just get a response out of you. maybe he should text your ex strange things, or maybe he’ll secretly let people know about some of the stuff you have that you thought was well hidden in his room… 

and, of course, he’ll be there for you while you’re scared, anxious, and confused… 

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

he definitely wants to be married, to keep his darling by his side forever. he wants his darling to do a lot of the ‘hard parts’ of life for him, and let him live a very spoiled and pampered life. so, probably both cooking and cleaning, as well as things like taxes or yardwork…

although he would love to essentially be a cutesy trophy husband, he does know that to have the lifestyle he wants he’ll likely have to settle for both you and him having jobs. sadly </3

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

he does get jealous, both of platonic relationships (you getting attention in general) as well as any romantic partners... past or present.

if you had a longterm partner while you met him- he’d be very quick to try and ruin your relationship, and possibly try to decimate your partners reputation. he may pretend that your partner hit him to make you want to break up with them, or something similar.

when he gets jealous he doesn’t lash out in the typical way, but he lets out his frustration in strange ways. he’ll be a little passive aggressive when talking about the other person with you, subtly digging on them. “hm… they sure do chew very loudly, don’t they? that’d be very annoying to hear that on dates, wouldn’t it? just thinking.”

he’ll also be teasing you more, making you do all these favors for him to see you fret over him… it helps make him feel less stressed. after spending some time with you he can calm down. though, he’ll still try to manipulate situations so that you won’t spend so much time with that person anymore.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

he acts like a clingy and loving, but ditzy and sensitive boyfriend to you. he wants all of his strange behavior to come off as him being “needy” or something similar. it’s not that he’s breaking your boundaries, it’s that he’s sad and needs comfort.

essentially, he likes being seen as cute and innocent with people, and that extends to you too. 

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

generally using you for amusement and attention at first, just like he does with everyone else. then, he’ll essentially just… casually show up around you or text you more often. it’s less that he’s trying to convince you to date him, since he has a big ego and believes that you are lucky to have him. he just knows that forcing you to date him too soon could end up in you getting freaked out and ghosting him or something.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

yes, mischa is the type of yandere to fake his personality (see:kisses above.) he’s a manipulator and quite a bit selfish, but he acts cutesy and nice with others. 

the way he acts with his darling is just a more intense and focused version of how he used to treat everyone around him. to an extent he still acts that way around everyone too, he just pays significantly less attention to other people.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

he’d never admit to it being why he does it, but loudly crying around other people works well for this purpose. it gets his darling to be more nervous of repeating the same behavior in the future, while also guilt-tripping them…

also, while he wouldn't normally go to such extremes, see: hell above.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

much like with tanner he generally lets you do whatever you want, but is just... also there with you. or he drags you to wherever he wants you to go, but the only thing stopping you from leaving is social etiquette (and if you’d feel bad for him for being “upset” that you did that.)

he's not necessarily strict, but he is very manipulative. he doesn't really need to force you to not be around your close friends... he takes up so much attention and energy from you that you don't have time for most other people. and he can just convince you in other ways to spend less time with them.

if you are more of a naïve and/or a people pleasing type, he's very likely to successfully get his way in what he wants.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

he thinks of you being unwilling or resistant as amusing, basically. he isn’t the type to get all that angry at you, at worst he’ll be passive aggressive. but he does get impatient when he feels that he isn’t getting your full attention, so he’s quick to become more blatant with his efforts to manipulate you. 

and, he becomes less patient when he starts to feel jealous. he thinks of everyone else as ‘unworthy’ of your attention and thinks of himself as ‘worthy’ of it… it makes him irritated as he feels slighted from you not recognizing this like he does.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

he does actually love you, so this would be very hard for him.

if you died, he'd be in shock. he'd be depressed for a long time... he had never even thought that this was a possibility. he'd have a lot of difficulty pretending to be cheery and playful, and may never get over the loss.

if you escaped (as in, moved to a new city or something without warning) he’d scramble to try to follow their lead and try to find you. but, he doesn’t have a ton of resources and connections, so it would be very difficult for him. he would try very hard for a long time, though, as he does genuinely want you by his side again.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

despite doing things that are definitely illegal, mischa doesn’t think of himself as being a “criminal” and thinks of himself as being above such a thing. to him, stalking is only technically illegal, so he thinks of himself as being a normal person.

instead of abducting his darling in the typical sense, he’d rather just cling to them under more ‘normal’ circumstances. the closest extreme that i think he’d go to is showing up in your house and not leaving. he would feel pretty guilty if you're clearly terrified of him after that… after all, even if he messes with you his goal is never to make you think you are in any genuine danger. he'd just be more sweet and giving towards you for a while, hoping that will help you calm down and acclimate to the situation a bit.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

mischa grew up in a good family who loved him, but he did have some issues growing up.

his family immigrated from germany when he was relatively young. his parents became more busy with their jobs and had difficulties acclimating to the culture and language, which both often distracted them from spending time with him. he at the time also felt isolated from those around him, and wanted to cling more to his parents as a result. he's used to acting out for attention and getting rewarded for it, as his tired parents just wanted to give him what he wanted whenever he threw a tantrum.

he's never really faced any consequences for his actions and knows that he likely won't, so to him... if he wants you, why not have you?

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

i think he'd be unnerved at a true breakdown, screaming or anything similar would make him feel a bit guilty and reflect on his actions. did he really do so much to make you snap like that? he'd be more cautious for a while, and may tread lightly around you for a bit. he'll keep a careful eye on you to assess why you’re having such a breakdown.

if it's just crying, he does feel a little guilty, but he’s much less worried. if anything, he sees this as an opportunity for him. he sees that as an opportunity to cuddle them and pretend to be the typical loving caring boyfriend- he's thinking this will likely make you feel more attached to him. 

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

it's not necessarily a moral thing, but as i said in blood above, he's not really going to hurt anyone physically, much less kill them. he also won't abduct the reader in the typical sense.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

mischa is short and physically weak, so it's not hard at all to intimidate him.

also, see: regret above… you aren’t being abducted and tied down, so in theory you do have the freedom to do whatever you want. if you are able to avoid him for a bit, you do have a lot of options available to you.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

nope! he's not the type to hurt his darling... not physically, at least. 

however, he can have some sadistic tendencies when it comes to teasing you or putting them in a situation that scares or bothers you (such as trying to trick a darling who's afraid of spiders into letting one crawl on them, sending the darling notes to make them know that they have a stalker to get them scared and paranoid... etc)

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

he doesn’t show it in the typical way as many yanderes would, but he does put you on a pedestal in his head. after all, he sees everyone around him as being ‘below’ you and being ‘unworthy’ of your time and attention.

he does smother you with high praise and compliments, and its coming from a real place as he really does find his darling attractive, sweet, kind, charming, etc.

but a significant reason for him doing so is for his own sake- he knows that his affections towards you, both verbally and physically, are going to make you more likely to fall for him. he’s definitely putting a concerted effort into winning you over… he’s certain that it will happen eventually, he just wants it to happen sooner rather than later.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

depends on what "snap" means in this context, since his behavior doesn't really suddenly escalate. he starts off strong and then there's a quick escalation, but there's no real point of him 'snapping' into something extreme.

but, if this just means 'general yandere behavior and manipulation'... it's not a very long time at all. once he realizes he's jealous of others getting your attention, he fairly quickly realizes how he's feeling and tries to get you to be around him more often. this probably takes a few weeks or so. then, he slowly escalates over a few months or so as he tries to see just how far he can take things. 

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

although he's not violent or extreme like the typical yandere, you are likely going to be mentally exhausted by his antics and being around him all the time. i think that in general he is the type of yandere that would very much wear you down over time until you get to a breaking point. 

so, you wouldn't break in the typical way this word is used for yandere stories- but you would very likely have an emotional breakdown after a while.

[bigbarabelly]

hughie mpreg w either homelander or butchers kid and he doesnt know how to tell starlight ?

I’ve been hanging onto this because im super fucking slow lately but getting back into drawing a bit outside of com art FJKDSLA;

I’m working on a fic for it ill have to actually make an a03 for BUT made some little art panels of just hughie and Annie for it 👀

[ask-the-agency]

dirk, do u want another jacket?

Dirk: YES!!

Todd: So kind of you to ask, but absolutely not

[pygmypouter]

i made a game 🍊🐸🐰🍊🎂 🎮

[loverboykirstein]

disobedient // kinktober fin.

sebastian (sdv) x afab!reader

wc: 4,228

mdni -> dom!sebastian, bloodplay/knives, overstimulation, humiliation, unprotected sex, breeding, restraints, filming

*** "mm, yeah i bet,” he drug the pad of his pointer finger down the center of your chest, eyes soaking up every inch of your goosebump ridden skin. “ ‘s too bad, shame you’re stuck here on display like the whore you are,”. 

your face ran hot, shame clouding your mind for a second too long. 

“what’s else you do while i was gone, huh? did you stay here like i told you to?”. 

his forehead was pressed against yours, cold against your heated embarrassment you were trying so hard to cover. 

a soft shake no, his pupils dilated further, enough for you to feel them on you. 

he knew you couldn’t stay at the farm all those days in a row, seeds were needed, fish were out to soak up warmth after such a long winter, monsters needed to be kept at bay in the mines. 

but you disobeyed.***

“you’ve been bad, haven’t you?”  

a red hot face, whimpering softly as you shook your head no. 

“you know how i feel about lying, princess,”. 

lifting your chin with his index and his thumb, seb forced your shameful eyes to meet his. 

it wasn’t your fault that he had left town for a few days with the band in the middle of your busiest season, soil perfect for so many seeds you couldn’t keep track of time. 

it wasn’t your fault that you were used to his touch winding you down nearly every night, unable to keep his greedy hands off of you. 

so of course you had to do it on your own, the bright pink toy you had gotten in secret tucked away behind the farming manuals in your nightstand. 

you just happened to forget to unplug it, left in plain sight, caught red handed. 

going to bed without a drowsy release was nearly impossible, tossing and turning until your aching body had been purged of its tension through quivering walls and a puffy clit. 

an addict, really. he had turned you into his little mutt, whining for his attention the moment you caught a glimpse of him. 

“i-”. you hadn’t ever explicitly told him, too embarrassed by such a filthy act, too needy that you caved in and did it yourself, too desperate to wait for him. embarrassed that you depended on him.

“spit it out, be a good girl, yeah?” his slight pout was falsified, used to cover up the rapid pace of his heart knowing he finally got the chance to punish you, the first time you had been disobedient. after all, you weren't technically his, too afraid of the commitment that came with a bouquet.

“i- i’m-”, too overcome with the sudden reminder that you could be punished, full of shame and disappointment, but also the chance to be a fucking brat. 

“i just couldn’t help it,” you batted your lashes, teeth pulling on your bottom lip to cover up the giggle you created thinking about it all. unable to walk properly and covered in bruises, bandages covering slivers of hidden reminders that to him, you were his.

“i told you to wait, did we forget how to listen?” he tsk’ed as he dropped his fingers from your chin, letting his palm sting your cheek to remind you that you always listened to him. 

“i don’t have to listen to anyone,” you crossed your arms, fully succumbing to the act to pull him as close to his breaking point as possible. 

“oh?” he scoffed, grabbing the collar of your shirt and tugging you closer to his darkened stare. “i think we need a reminder of who you fucking belong to,”. 

“i don’t belong to anyone,” mischief rattled your teeth, running your tongue across them to calm the buzzing that vibrated all the way to the hinges of your jaw. 

“oh you’re fucking asking for it, aren’t you? get on your fuckin’ knees, dirty bitch,”. his grip nearly tearing your shirt, pulling you to the ground in one swift motion. 

blinking hard, the hardwood bruising your knees on impact, saliva pooling in your mouth as you sinfully awaited his imprint on the back of your throat. 

“the fuck you waiting for?” he gripped your face, insides of your cheek mashed against the sides of your teeth. 

taking your sweet time, reveling in his inability to keep his sadism at bay, you let the denim dressing his legs fall to the floor, pre-stained boxers following suit. 

the slap of his length hitting his stomach nearly made you drool, too long without his twitching head so close to you. 

you ran your tongue up the underside of his twitching length, lazily blinking as you gazed up at him through your pretty lashes. 

wrapping your hand around the rock solid base, spitting on his cock for makeshift lube, kitten licks soaking up every last drop of his slightly salty pre. 

right hand stroking him gently, waiting for his core to tense a little harder before giving him the warmth of your throat. 

you were a bad girl after all, right? 

“quit teasin’,” he seethed through gritted teeth, fingers running through your hair as a silent plead. 

“or what,” you giggled, not sparing the time to look up at him anymore. 

“do i need to fuck some sense into you?” a rough pull of the tender strands of hair between his fingers forced you to look up at him, jaw clenched and eyes blown. 

“you’d do that for me?” a flutter of your lashes once again, false innocence plastered on your face haphazardly. 

“prove that you want it, then i might,”. 

as your dripping walls clenched around nothing, you let him sink into your warm mouth, nose pressed against his clean shaven skin as you fought back the gagging brought to life by him pressed against the back of your throat. 

slow bobbing sped to sloppy sucks, saliva coating your hand that worked in unison with your equally coated lips. 

tongue swirling around his swollen tip, jaw locked open to accommodate the size. 

pretty hums vibrated against his aching cock, harder than it had ever been, the smell of cigarettes dissipating against the blurring heat in your cheeks, hyperfocus on your performance, forgetting all about the brat living inside your perfectionist soul. 

at the mercy of his ruthless pace, hips forcing himself further as he fucked your pretty little mouth raw, using the steadfast grip on your hair to shove himself further down your bruised throat. 

both hands gripped his thighs, the only sense of stability against his clouded vision using you as nothing but a toy, chest heaving against your sputtered coughs. 

tears pooled over your lash line, tickling your red-hot, oxygen deprived face, streaming down your neck and mixing with the mess caused by his greed alone. 

a signal twitch, fingernails digging into your roots with whatever strength he had left, sputtered ropes forced their way down your battered throat. 

salty sweet, only savoring the taste as he slowed his pace, your swollen lips sucking out every last drop of his treasured seed. 

he wiped your tears away, both thumbs running across your cheeks, a sense of pride hinting at the creased corners of his eyes. 

“see, you can behave,” a single chuckle, a little taunting, seeing if you’d take the bait. “just takes a little reminding huh?” 

“like i really had a choice,” a dramatic roll of your still glossy eyes, pulling yourself to your feet to see how far you could push before he snapped again. 

“ha! silly girl..” his voice trailed, tugging your clothes off of your still unstable body before you could really recognize the full extent of what he was doing. 

“little hard to resist when you get too needy, huh?” crossing your arms, you were quickly shoved onto the bed, impact nearly knocking the wind straight out of you. 

“do we need a reminder of who was the needy one here? who just couldn’t help themselves? who kept this a secret for lord knows how long?” three tsk’s of pity brushed past, his white knuckle grip on your sides pulling you flush to the headboard. 

straddling you on either side, you let your hand take control, tracing his slit with the pad of your thumb. 

body leaned over you, hands reaching behind the posts that aligned either side. 

oh fuck. 

he wasn't supposed to know about those.

Before you could begin to fight back, his free hand tore yours away from his sensitive tip, locking your wrist in padded leather cuffs. 

a repeated effort on the other hand, pulling against him just for the fun of it, giggling as he struggled to get you still enough to lock you in. 

in nothing but your slick soaked panties, arms outstretched and held against the sturdy oak bedposts and thick leather. 

“this’ll fuckin teach you,” his unblinking eyes on yours, full of something you couldn’t place, something you had never seen behind his black lashes and smudged eyeliner. 

“bullshit,” falsified confidence hiding the ice cold shiver in your spine, knowing you were in for it. 

“you really are just a whore aren’t you? i’m sure the whole town would love to see who you really are,”. his voice was harsh, no longer bitten back, the devil on his shoulder taking over his every cell. “i’m sure they’d love to see you put in your fucking place for once,”. 

a few hard blinks of confusion, before your face burned with embarrassment. the whole town? 

this is going to complicate things. very fast.

reaching over towards your nightstand, he unplugged the bright pink culprit, the reason you were bound to your bed between his legs. 

“let’s see what this is all about, yeah?” 

your heart sank to your stomach, knowing you were downright fucked. 

you knew he wouldn’t stop until he was satisfied, fascinated with punishing you with the very thing that put you in this position. 

pressing the power button, your favorite pre-set speed rattling between his fingers. 

slipping the toy under your waistband, lips parting with a sigh as it brushed against your aching bud, just for him to drag it down your slit, coating the toy in your own slick. already dripping more than enough at the slightest touch, the humiliation you felt knowing his phone would soon catch you in your most vulnerable state. 

a quiet gasp left your sore throat, feeling him nestle the toy right where it was made to be, violating your clit at the perfect pace. 

ensuring it stayed in place, he let the elastic band of your sopping wet panties hold it exactly where he wanted it. 

“cat got your tongue?” his laugh felt deeper, almost sinister. 

“fuck off,” you spat, choking back the whines you refused to let him hear so soon. 

“excuse me?” appalled at your vulgar outburst, harsh blinks and open maw. 

“fuck. off,” you squinted at him, brain falling a little fuzzy with a mix of just a little too much of everything. 

he scoffed in your general direction, reaching over towards the nightstand opposite yours. 

closing your eyes in the brief moment of his distraction, pressing your tongue firm against the roof of your mouth to suppress the submission the pulsing vacant walls that cried for him wanted to succumb to.

“you really are dumb as hell,”. 

you watched his scarred hands fold black satin into a perfect blindfold, raising your brow at the material you had never seen before. 

with no room to move, forced into darkness against cold fabric tied around your head. 

“now, don’t make me gag you too,” you jumped as his unexpected palm hit your cheek, stinging with a gasp of both unexpected contact but a tightening of your core. 

“you’d really wanna stifle me? miss out on the pretty sounds you love so much?” swiping your tongue across your teeth again, trying to hide the bratty smile that grew with every word. “didn’t you want me to put on a show?” 

your blood pumping at the speed of sound, eardrums burning with nothing but blood vessels speeding through the intersections of your veins. 

“you want all your little boyfriends to see you plead for mercy, is that what is it?” 

you’d never been so scared, so anxious, so wet. 

soaking straight onto your bedding, biting back every sound you wanted to let out so painfully bad. 

knowing he wanted others to see, wanted to make you submit, salivating at the idea. 

maybe…

caught off guard by your own perverted fantasy, one you only thought about when you swore you were in heat, taking two. hell, three even. 

feeling his warmth leave as your mattress adjusted to only one body to support, you heard the faint sound of his phone unlocking, the click of a record button pressed. 

exposed face burning in embarrassment, fully exposed and robbed of not only sight, but the ability to flee. 

“showtime, dirty girl,” he whispered in your ear, appearing at your side silently, heart leaping out of its cage at his breathing on your neck. 

do i really want him to do this? 

everything’s gonna change-

am i going to be respected at all anymore? 

left without a choice, knowing you made the bed that you would have to die in, letting your eyes close behind their fabricated darkness to pretend evidence of your bad behavior was being documented for all to see wasn’t happening. 

bitten-raw lips parted as conversation settled, only focused on the toy you had been distracted from, not fully realizing how badly you already wanted to finish. 

unable to resist, at the mercy of sadism in the flesh, snuffing out any sense of innocence that could have remained inside your bedroom. 

through scattered kisses and broken blood vessels, your throat soon adorned more bruises than you could ever cover discreetly, trailing down your chest. 

palming one tit, his mouth preoccupied with another, tongue lapping circles around your hardened nipples as your whimpers turned to moans, wanting nothing more than to have him inside you, your throbbing hole aching for attention. 

marking every inch of you, his name written in the bruises, your heart frustrated that so many of its hard working vessels were crushed by the teeth of man, by the possession of man. 

fingernails leaving trails of scratches down your sides, tongue always coming back to drink up your cries, messy and hard. 

feeling the knotted ribbon of your core begin to snap, wrists pulling against the restraints as your back arched, pushing the pulsating vibrations against your bundle of nerves even tighter. 

every part of you struggled against the perfectly sewn cuffs, pain of restrained hands making the final thread snap, unraveling at the mercy of hot pink silicone. 

“dirty, dirty girl. how come you don’t ever shake like that for me?” his breath settled in your ears heavy, wanting to respond but too fuzzy to make a whole sentence. 

you hadn’t been violated in a long time, so used to falling into sleepy hands and lamp-lit thrusts, gentle in nature. 

you knew he just wanted to help, to reward you for all the hard work you endured. day in and day out, building a life quite literally from the ground up. 

he didn’t want to wear you so thin all the time, often only catching 4 or so hours a night, and he felt guilty using you when you had exhausted so much of yourself already. 

but fuck did this feel different, satisfying the urge you always felt for more more more. 

he nipped at the edge of your jaw, humming a chuckle at your overstimulated whimpers. 

you had never gone beyond one orgasm before, just enough to get what you needed and carry on to bed. 

the repeated vibrations, pinpoint accuracy, choked up with the sound of your blood pounding in your ears. 

“ ‘s a lot-”. more slurred than steady, pinching your eyes at the pressure applied by his knee against your cunt. 

“mm, yeah i bet,” he drug the pad of his pointer finger down the center of your chest, eyes soaking up every inch of your goosebump ridden skin. “ ‘s too bad, shame you’re stuck here on display like the whore you are,”. 

your face ran hot, shame clouding your mind for a second too long. 

“what’s else you do while i was gone, huh? did you stay here like i told you to?”. 

his forehead was pressed against yours, cold against your heated embarrassment you were trying so hard to cover. 

a soft shake no, his pupils dilated further, enough for you to feel them on you. 

he knew you couldn’t stay at the farm all those days in a row, seeds were needed, fish were out to soak up warmth after such a long winter, monsters needed to be kept at bay in the mines. 

but you disobeyed. 

trying your best to hold back overstimulated cries, both of his feet hit the hardwood floor, paces taken towards the bathroom. 

leaving you alone, wrists bound, writhing in something not quite pain but not quite pleasure, nearly on the cusp of a second orgasm before you could hold it back. 

returning with a first aid kit, your heart skipped a beat at what you knew that meant, the sound of the plastic case on the wooden table enough to knock your heart out of place, coarse throat running dry. 

“gotta be still, gotta make sure you remember who you belong to, m’kay? obviously that dumb little brain of yours doesn’t work very well,”. 

the possession he held over you was downright intoxicating, fueled every dopamine receptor in your being to fire off harder than they already were. 

he wanted you to be his, only his, to the degree unimaginable by most. 

and there wasn't a goddamn thing you could do about it.

towering over your writhing body, switchblade in hand, permanently marking you as his. 

the urge to leave bright red reminders, ones that you would feel under your clothing while you were out on your daily adventures. ones that couldn’t be erased, done by the grace of his own hands while you drenched yourself in your own pooling mess. 

straddling you once again, his eyes burned holes in your skin as he decided where he wanted his name to be permanently etched on your being. 

the blade of possession he seemingly pulled out of thin air dipped into your skin as you held back filthy moans and hot air, holding yourself as still as you could imagine. 

you knew his blown out pupils shimmered with an almost inhuman excitement, shifting back until his hand held your thigh, paper thin skin awaiting another perforation. 

a hiss through gritted teeth met the second of his many wounds, settling into the warmth that flooded around your forced sacrifice. 

a release like no other, blood rushing from your head to its unplanned demise, the trickle down the plush of your thighs tickling you gently. 

something that you had only ever read about, never actually experiencing.

but god did it feel ethereal.

with each pull, vibrations rattled your skeleton, forcing your second spill to break past your throbbing hole, so neglected since the start. 

the release of overworked blood was the true release you craved so desperately, expected pain something you never imagined loving so much. 

nervous system expelling its jittering whirlwind, staining your comforter with exiled iron. 

your brain fuzzy, fingers tingling as they held limp above your shackled wrist. 

overcome with warmth, your clit throbbing in overstimulation, a wordless prayer for an ounce of mercy. 

“ ‘s too m-much,”. your words were nothing more than pitiful cries for a break, a chance to catch your breath. 

“it’s supposed to be,”. 

even through tear-muffled moans and blood soaked sheets, you knew there was no way out. 

your sense of independence was false, and he was pulling you further into his cage each and every time. 

whimpering at the almost numbness of your clit, whining as you felt the warm trail of life spill out in the shape of his name. 

“you’re fucking mine, you listen to me, understood?” 

his face was inches from yours, too foggy to even realize when he had gotten so close to you. 

pinprick tingles rushed your nearly asleep fingertips, hitting each vertebrae as they dripped down your spine. 

“you better have more for me, it’s the least you can do,”. his condescending nature made you twitch in frustration, only to be released of the torture your bright pink vibrator had so brutally given, moments before you could let the poorly tied knot in your womb unravel again. 

a brief second for your muscles to calm, to feel the blood stain your skin, to try and catch your breath. 

to sebastian, that was one second too long. 

rushed hands pulled away the fabric still keeping your cunt covered, sticky as he pulled them away. 

usually, he would take his time to stretch you out, ease your walls into his taking his heavy cock. 

easing one finger in, then two, massaging your walls to welcome him inside, ready to mold to his shape as he bottomed out. 

but with your sense of control stripped away from the start, he lined himself up with your tight hole, a single deep breath in and out of his smoke stained lungs. 

one single snap and his hips were flush, the sear of your unstretched hole adjusting to his vein ridden length knocked the wind out of you, whatever bit of it you had left. 

dizzy from the mix of a rapidly approaching trip around the sinner’s sun, drizzled in dark red syrup, you couldn’t comprehend a damn thing going on.  

lifting both of your unstable legs onto his shoulders, the twitching tip of his cock bulging your tummy with each ruthless thrust. 

nothing but a toy, a hole, there for his taking and nothing else. 

hand searing his imprinted name, long fingers stained red against the pitch black polish his nails adorned as he left white knuckle bruises along the plush of your thighs. 

spread wide open, broken cries and babbling tongue, dizzy and out of breath. 

“you’re mine,” his lust-filled throat growled out his reminder, bouncing around the inside of your skull, fucked out body too weak to process. “you fuckin’ listen to me,”. 

“ to- ‘s too much,” the walls of your sopping wet hole squeezed tighter around him, sucking him off tighter than your mouth ever could. 

“-fuckin so tight, so t-tight for me shit,” kicking back his head, pinched shut eyes trying their best to hold back his need to coat your insides with his seed. “suckin’ me off s’ good,”. 

sobs crawled out of your cracking chest, eyes unable to keep themselves open behind their forced deprivation. through the lack of blood, lack of air, broken hips and a shattered spine. 

“you know better than to disobey me, you asked for this,” blood stained hand met your slacked jaw, startling you back to consciousness. 

“ ‘s too much, too much,” shaking your head, voice box cracking your words enough to fall incomprehensible on his ears. 

“you wanted this, f-fucking hell,”. 

“ ‘m sorry-”. 

reveling in the sounds of your cunt trying to hold him inside you for good, pulling him back in so desperately, his tip bruising your cervix to match the back of your throat. 

the bloodless left hand of his yanked the blindfold from your eyes, exposing your saltwater stained lashed, meeting the newfound hell trapped in his pupils first.

your blurry, fucked out, drowsy eyes watched as his tongue lapped up your leaking red from his opposite fingertips, a sickly sweet syrup laced with iron. 

draining your veins of misbehavior, a hum radiating in his chest as his pace began to stutter. 

“ ‘na breed you, filthy girl,” the permanently stained pad of his thumb pressed into your bruised clit, screams of his name shattering your senses. 

“ ‘s t- i can’t-”. warm tears trailed down your face, bloodstained hand pushing down on the bulge his violent thrusts created as your weak arms pulled at the restraints. 

broken sobs, pleads for mercy, anything to ease the sear on your entrance, the ache of your cervix as he hit it over and over and over again. 

nerves so hot you shivered, trembling in his white knuckle grip, on another planet three galaxies away.

no longer in your bedroom, body nothing but a toy, warm and wet for him to breed with every ounce of primal need in his racing heart. 

phasing in and out, head heavy and core aching, the pressure of his hand sending you beyond the brink of overstimulation, a forced orgasm pooling out of your cunt. 

creaming his length, milky ring settling at the base of his cock, eyes rolled to the back of your mushy brain. 

brutalized hole milking him so tight, suffocating his veins to get each drop of cum inside you. 

his hips sputtering in rhythm with his moans, ropes of seed mixing with your last bit of cream, spilling out onto the sheets below that had since been dyed with the pooling blood making you run cold. 

disheveled strands of his hair stuck to his forehead, glazed in sweat as he released his grip on your thighs. 

your heavy head unable to keep steady, too dizzy to think at all, swayed back and forth. 

losing more blood than you expected, walls still spasming as he ensured his seed wouldn’t escape any more than it had already. 

a hiss through his teeth reverberated in your eardrums as your heartbeat began to slow, nearly blocking out the pain of his withdraw. 

heaves for air expanded his chest as he towered above, pressing his forehead against yours. 

a few hard blinks, eyes cleared of the possession the devil held on him, taking in the scene. 

his outstretched fingertips reached for the kit full of bandages and gauze, a heavily used item in your household. 

wordlessly wiping away the dried excess his fingers left all over you, you dozed in and out of sleep, unable to support yourself. 

wordlessness of his clean up was cut short, a huff and a small smile on his lips. 

“they’re all gonna love this, you have no idea what you’ve started,”.

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

hello hello! i know this is literally a month late pls don't kill me.

thank u all for the support & understanding as i try and work through the absolute shitshow i'm dealing with, it really means a lot.

stay warm, stay safe, and know that my messages and inbox are both always open.

mwauh! ᥫ᭡。

[lxvi-gloria]

Drabble Prompt: Post-canon Levi, struggling with chronic pain and mourning his dead loved ones, being visited by his still alive loved ones

Anon, you knew how to talk pretty to me <3

hihi requests are still open btw

I feel like I gotta put a disclaimer or something lmao. So, the length of my drabble requests is usually something between 100-400 words. This request is just an incredibly unexpected exception. it just happened to fit into this idea I already had been thinking of, which was how the remaining 104th would ask Levi to be part of important events in their lives because well, they like the dude lmao, so expect that sort of one-shot soon. Additionally, since I kept reminding myself that this was supposed to be a drabble, I might have glossed over the chronic pain and mourning bits so I'm sorry about that ;;

that being said, 2.4k words of Levi and Gabi be upon ye <3

Now on Ao3!

The angry hissing of the kettle makes him flinch. It brings a loud ringing to his right ear. Instinctively, he places his right hand over it, and gives his ear a couple of gentle taps; it's more of a grounding gesture, a distraction from the buzzing. He usually keeps watch over the kettle, so that he can lower the heat just right before it gets a chance to scream at him. 

He realises then that he must have spaced out while waiting. It’s alright, he thinks. It’s been like that a lot, recently. He’s been like that. Lost in thought-- lost in time, if he allowed himself to be precise. The last days, weeks even, as the temperatures started to drop, blended into each other. There’s a little calendar on his bedside table, it had been a birthday gift from Armin – or had that been Mikasa’s? He isn’t sure, he had received an absurd number of presents from the kids last year, it had been hard to keep track of who gave him what and now the fact escaped him. Turning the pages of the little calendar, with its delicate botanical illustrations on each day, quickly became part of his morning routine, and so he was sure that time was passing at all. The stillness of the routine, he guesses, made him like this.

His vision blurs momentarily while he scoops the tea leaves into the teapot. He squints, trying to will his good eye to focus, but all he gets in return is a throb in his right eye. After putting the tea canister away, he presses the inner sides of his wrists to both eyes, placing just enough pressure to relieve the discomfort. When he opens his eyes again, he is pleased to find he can read the small print on the canister an arm’s length away. 

There’s a loud slam coming from the front of the house, followed by footsteps coming further into the house.

He quickly recognizes the heavy stomping as Gabi’s gait. She’s always been so loud.

Gabi crosses the arch into the small kitchen and dining area. 

“Don’t slam my doors,” he says as a greeting, slowly turning his head to his left side, trying to catch a glimpse of her in his periphery.

“Aye, aye,” the kid waves her hand, shoots him a teasing grin, “someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

Levi hums in response but doesn’t say anything else. He busies himself with placing everything they need for their morning tea and coffee on a metal tray on the counter, which Gabi takes from him as soon as it’s ready and sets it on the table.

He grabs his cane from where he had hooked it on one of the kitchen drawers. He has been leaning against the counter, his right leg supporting most of his weight all this time. He braces himself for the sharp pain that will surely surge from his bad knee, through his left hip and up his spine. Cold mornings like this one and being still in one place for long will do that to him. It’s not so bad. It could be worse.

It takes 4 steps to get from the stove to his chair, which Gabi has already pulled out for him. It sits at an angle that allows him to easily slide down on it and rest his right elbow on top of the table, leaning back and against his good side.

“I have something that will cheer you up,” she holds a couple of envelopes in her hand and waves them at him, “You’ve got mail!”

He nods at her in acknowledgement but does not take his attention away from preparing his first batch of tea of the day. There’s a ritual to it, it almost feels like, and he doesn’t want to mess it up. Not when the ringing in his ear is still there, the building pressure in the upper back part of his eyeballs, and the cold air seeping into his bones through his thick jumper. Oh, how he needs a good cup of tea right now.

While Levi waits for it to steep, he grabs the papers that she had shoved in his face, squints his eyes at the first envelope and finds that he is unable to make out much of the handwriting. He brings it closer to his face, squints harder, steals a quick glance across the table and hopes Gabi isn’t paying him any mind, too preoccupied with choosing from the bag of pastries she brought with her. It is with an impassive expression that he hands the stack of envelopes back. 

“Read it for me.” A beat and then he adds, a little reluctant: “Please.”

He knows Gabi prefers coffee in the mornings, and black tea in the evenings, so he makes sure to have a fresh brew of the former whenever he knows she’s coming over; so, with shaky hands, Levi gets to prepare her cup of coffee. While he enjoys the aroma of it, he remains faithful to tea; at first, he thought he didn’t like it because he had butchered his first attempts at brewing it. But even after Onyankopon had taught him how to do it properly and he had enjoyed his cup, it didn’t bring the same comfort as tea. It just never hit the spot.

She shoots him a mischievous grin, “Oh, you sure? What if I read something personal, hm?” 

Levi just shakes his head, scoffing at the idea of Gabi finding his junk mail fascinating.

“Is this how I find out you have a secret lover you’re exchanging raunchy love letters with?” Gabi teases, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

He lets out a tired sigh and rolls his eyes, “just wanna be done with it, ” he stirs the milk into Gabi’s coffee, which now has turned into a cup of milk with coffee. “We have a lot to prepare for tonight.”

She clicks her tongue at him, but still rips the first envelope open, “Mr. Levi, your reading won’t improve if you keep doing that,” she jokingly scolds him.

Although Levi mentally recognises handing her and Falco stuff he couldn’t be bothered reading before, that’s not the case this time. He’ll let her think that for now, though, because he doesn’t want to mention the pressure building in the back of his bad eye, it’s not important and she, a kid, doesn’t need to know his newly found ailment of the week. He can see just fine around him right now. He can see Gabi’s big eyes and playful smile at the other side of the table, and that’s good enough; smaller details, he doesn’t feel he can do them, not without making himself go dizzy with a migraine.

Levi slides the cup of coffee to her and is pleased with himself when she approves of the colour of her drink.

“It’s from Armin,” she announces as she scans the letter. 

From this angle, the soft morning light illuminating her face and thanks to his faulty vision, Gabi’s image stirs his memory. His heart faintly constricts as he is reminded of the many times Hange read their research reports to him during breakfast in the mess hall before presenting them to Erwin. Levi always wondered how they could read so fast, sometimes he even doubted they were actually reading at all, their words barely being able to catch up with her eyes; he never asked about it, maybe reading came easy to them as numbers did to him.

A high-pitched squeal from Gabi startles him, bringing him back to the here and now.

“Oh… ohh, Mr. Levi,” she starts, her smile widening by the second “This is good news!”

Gabi makes a show of clearing her throat and then starts reading “Dear Captain, I hope this letter finds you well and in good health.” 

Levi can’t help but let a sardonic huff at the irony of the greetings but doesn’t let himself be bothered by it. He has written only a handful of personal letters throughout his life, and by now he knows it’s just something you’re supposed to say because jumping straight to the point isn’t acceptable, or so that’s what he had been told. 

Gabi continues reading Armin’s words to him. For the most part, it’s a standard letter coming from him: he asks Levi how he’s dealing with the changing of the seasons, how Gabi and Falco are faring, if business at the tea shop has been good, if there’s anything Levi needs that he can’t get in town so that Armin or the others can get it for him. He tells him a little about the country he’s writing from, he even includes a photograph. Then, after the expected pleasantries, Gabi can barely hold her excitement and starts reading faster, trying so hard not to trip over her words.

“If I’m being sincere, we would prefer to ask you in person,” Gabi stops for a second to look up at him from the paper, gauging for a reaction and finding nothing, she continues. 

Armin apologises for not being able to visit him before the holidays, Annie included, and so it is implied that he won’t be attending tonight’s reunion. 

Sometime during the last five years, the Alliance brats had decided to make showing up at Levi’s doorstep together once a year a sort of custom; the first time it happened was during an early winter, a blizzard had stopped them from leaving Levi’s until the next morning. It had been a really nice evening despite the awful weather, Levi remembers, after everyone pitched in one way or another, they all shared a simple but hearty meal together. It was Connie who jokingly said they should do it every year. The following year, Onyankopon, Gabi and Falco joined them. 

This year would be their fourth, and the first someone wouldn’t make it. That fact sits heavily in Levi’s chest, stealing the spotlight from his throbbing eye.

“...Annie and I have decided to get married. The both of us would like you to officiate our ceremony!” unable to contain her excitement, she tears her eyes away from the paper and looks at Levi. “Huh?! This is good news! What’s with the constipated face?!”

That doesn’t sound right. It figures that Annie and Armin would be the first to marry; in a way, he is happy for them, they clearly care for each other. No, that part is easy to understand. Their union is logical to anyone who knows the couple. What Levi can’t figure out is why they are asking him such a thing.

He clears his throat, assumes it’s been 3 minutes and his tea is ready to be poured and so he distracts himself with that.

When he doesn’t answer Gabi, she picks up where she left off. 

He isn’t… well, he isn’t that close to either of them. He’s sure Annie must have other relatives that could step in his stead. Maybe a brother, a cousin. Even Jean or Reiner would be better options than Levi. He isn’t good with words or people like they are, he couldn’t possibly give them a speech about something foreign to him as it is that kind of love, that’s what people expect, right? His title of Captain is obsolete in this new world, so it can’t be that either. Hell, he has never been to a fucking wedding. 

Just… why him?

As expected, Armin doesn’t really go into the details of their choice but does let Levi know they do not expect a fast answer and that they do not want him to feel pressured to accept it, despite how much it would mean to them if he did. Armin asks if there’s anything in particular that he would like for his birthday, as it is a month away, and closes the letter by saying he looks forward to seeing him and everyone then.

When the letter is closed and put back into its envelope, silence falls around them. For a moment the only sound that can be heard is the clinking of tableware as Levi places the teacup back on its saucer.

It bothers him, that he knows he will be letting Armin down by refusing something that any other well-adapted person would consider an honour. But the thought of embarrassing him and himself, because he gave an awkward, most likely insensitive, speech, mortifies him. No, he can’t put them and their guests through that. He will find a way to make it up to the couple, maybe he can… he doesn’t know yet, but he will come up with something.

As he finishes his first cup, Levi realises that at some point while he was lost in thought, the ringing in his ear has subsided and now it’s back to that muffled, cotton-in-ear sensation he’s used to and he doesn’t feel his eyeball pulsating anymore. Glancing at Gabi, he notices she is trying really hard not to say something, her brow furrowed as she takes a sip of her own drink, followed by a big bite of her pastry. Flakes stick to the corner of her mouth and for once it doesn’t disgust him. Instead, it makes his lips twitch as if going into a smile.

“I can help you... if you want,” she says eventually, sounding uncharacteristically careful and small of her.

Levi quirks an eyebrow “Help? with what?” 

She shrugs, “How to… tell them you don’t want to,” she avoids looking at him for the first time, finding the flakes on her plate more interesting. She shrugs again and tilts her head to the side, a thin line of a smile appearing on her face. “...or prepare for the ceremony.”

Not unlike many times before, Gabi’s words render him speechless, if only for a moment. He spares his tea a glance and he thinks: it’s bold of her to be so upfront about offering her help to him, and had it been any other morning, one where he couldn’t think past the constant ache in his body, he would’ve chewed her head off for simply trying to help him because he himself doesn’t know how to accept that kindness.

This kid is trying her best and he can’t help but feel somewhat proud of that.

“You have shit on your face. Here,” he points to where the flakes would sit on his own face and picks his refilled teacup back up.

Gabi quickly wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, getting most of the flakes off. Levi gives her a thumbs-up with his free hand.

“I’ll think about it,” he finally concedes and tries to ignore the little happy dance she does in her seat.

This time, when the amber liquid touches his lips, it’s remarkably sweeter than before.

[johnslittlespoon]

hii happy pride month, have a little 'you're a dog (i'm your man)' chapter four snippet as an apology for radio silence <33

“Did I wake you?” Gale asks, glancing at John apologetically, but John looks up from his effort to avoid muddy puddles to shake his head. Gale supposes it’s a silly question; John sleeps like a rock, dead to disturbances made by anything other than his own brain.

“Just my sixth sense,” John says, shrugging and shooting him a small smile. Gale snorts.

“You got a radar for me?” He teases, and John smiles wider, eyes crinkling.

“Built in,” he answers matter–of–factly, raising a hand and making a fist over the center of his chest before dropping it, returning his vigilant gaze to the uneven ground. Gale stares for a moment longer, floored not for the first time by John’s apparent obliviousness to the weight of his sentimentality.

Even knowing John how he does, it’s always unexpected coming from someone who a stranger might assume to be brazen and surface–level; John’s loud mouth and wandering hands do him no favours in that regard.

But Gale does know John, like an extension of himself half the time, and still he manages to render him speechless. The way his heart flutters as the sentiment hangs in the air makes Gale want to reach down his throat and squeeze it until it never beats again.