#tw: white boy behaviour!!

[meowpupp]

tw// overstim++, hybrid smut, bondage, gag, price and simon are assholrs, JUSTICE FOR JOHNNY ‼️

pup!johnny, who's been such a good boy for owner!simon recently. while pup!reader, been the complete opposite for owner!price.

you've been whining and yapping for attention constantly. you're desperate for attention and pleasure. spending most your time rutting against anything you can find. your big puppy eyes were at first endearing when you pawed at his cock, but it quickly stopped being cute.

price has had enough. you're so desperate, he can't get anything done. there's a thin line between needy and annoying, and you've definitely crossed it.

meanwhile, soap has been such a good boy. listening to each and every one of simons commands, keeping his grubby paws off his cock. he even resisted you during your weekly playdate. keeping his hands (and cock) to himself. even despite your pitiful attempts to grind on his thigh.

and so, naturally, there's an obvious conclusion here. two birds, one stone.

when simon tells soap that he's having an extra playdate with you this week, he knows something is up. it's unusual. playdates are normally a bargaining chip for good behaviour. but then again, being rewarded is something johnny never protests.

he had expected the usual, not this. as soon as he entered prices house, Simon gave him an order to follow. and so he did, only to find you bound, gagged, and desperate. all for him.

you're a sight, one that would make even the strongest man rock hard. wrists tied behind your back with pretty pink ribbon. you're dressed in white lace, the lingerie hugging each curve and roll. price had dressed you up for the pup. even going as far as gagging you, the pink dogbone shaped silicone making you drool all over the sheets.

you're already a wreck. your slick shines as it drips down your thighs. the white lace of your panties is translucent, wet fabric clinging to your prrtty cunt. the vibrator price used to torture your pretty clit tossed on the bed beside you carelessy. johnny's eyes dart all over the scene, drinking in each detail.

he can barely hold himself back, but he does. after all, he's a good boy. simons good boy. but it doesn't matter in the end. a large hand squeezes the back of his neck, simons deep voice growling in johnny ear as he speaks. "all yours, pup. show price how good you've been."

it takes him less than a second to act. johnny can't hold himself back, gipping your hips tight. you can barely take a breath as before he rups through the lace of your panties. he isn't nice like normal. instead of slowly lapping at your clit until it's swollen and desperate beneath his tounge, slowly stretching your tight cunt with his fingers- he forces his cock deep inside your swollen cunt.

he knows its mean. the way your cry and squirm beneath his tells him youve already cum multiple times. but it only makes you more fun to fuck. your greedy cunt sucks him in, a lewd squelch filling the room with each thrust.

johnny doesn't care if your sore cunt can't take it. he's not fucking you to make you feel good, this is his. his reward. his pleasure. his time to feel good.

his body is so taught and tense. each thrust is a reflection of that. his cockhead slams against your g-spot, merciless as he seeks his own pleasure. he doesn't stop, does slow. he refuses to.

even when you've cum 3 times, even when your sore, puffy cunt is stuffed full with his cum. johnny runs himself ragged. his pace frantic and feral even as you struggle. you sob and whimper into the sheets, giving price your best puppy eyes as try you beg for mercy despite the gag.

but he doesn't give it. "shhh, shh love. s'your punishment. this is what happens to horny pups like you." he growls as a big hand on the back of your head presses your face to the bed below you.

price and simon don't pay attention to you. ignoring your little squeals and yelps as johnny continues to pound into your over-sensitive cunt. they rub salt into the wound, praising the feral pup as he ruins you.

"such a good boy," "you can do better than that baby," "cmon now, harder. she's a toy johnny, use 'er."

they let johnny fuck you till he cant. your ass red and hot from his hips slamming into you, cunt puffy and swollen. johnny shoots blanks before he pulls out. he's whisked away by simon, praised by his owner till his dizzy. meanwhile, price cups your cheek, forcing your hazy eyes to meet his. "learnt your lesson? gonna be a good girl f'me now?" he smirks as you nod, not sure if you even understand what he said.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Remember me? (Part 9)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.

But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.

Except for a very adorable reminder of him.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: Aight y'all. This thing contains some heavy themes i guess, so this one can be skipped if you want. this part is basically a filler chapter.

This picks up one month after the last part ended.

Andddd....

Here we go.

•○🌑○•

Feyre's pov.

Feyre was walking home from her art studio, Nyx hopping along next to her. The day was beautiful, not too bright, not too cloudy. It was a perfect day to go out with her family on a picnic and simply enjoy their company and thank the mother for her blessings.

Or at least it would have been a good day for that if her family hadn't been falling apart.

Rhys had been pulling away more than ever. He had become detached from reality, drinking his days away and being locked up in his office all day. He had become more snappy than ever, yelling and throwing a fit at the smallest inconveniences.

A few days ago, he had punched and cracked a wall because his food was too hot.

Rhys was... he going mad. There was no other was to put it.

He did not want to be talked to, and if he found someone looking at him for longer than a moment, he would snarl like a wild beast. His appearance had also become... worse.

He looked so sick, like he would drop dead at any moment.

A loud gasp drew Feyre from her thoughts, and she looked down to find Nyx staring wide eyed at a spot on the ground nearby.

"Nyx?" Feyre questioned gently, trying to get his attention.

Nyx snatched his hand away from his mother's, sprinting away when Feyre tried to grab his hand again.

"Nyx! What are you doing?"

She followed Nyx, walking briskly behind him. She slowed to a stop when he did, watching as the little boy bent down.

A moment later, he drew up again, a huge, adorable grin on his face.

In his hands was a smooth, white rock. He held it gingerly, both his hands cupped, like holding it too tightly would shatter the beautiful thing.

"Papa would love this mommy."

Her heart melted and shattered at the same time.

But she couldn't bring herself to tell him that Rhys probably wouldn't care, so far lost in his head was he.

"Yes darling, he would love it."

Nyx gave her a toothy grin in return, turning back to the ground as he searched for something. He bent down again, and when he came up this time, he held a smaller rock in his hand and held it out to Feyre.

"This one is for Finnie. I will give it to him when we meet again."

Feyre nodded, plastering on a smile for the sake of her son as she agreed to meeting Fin soon.

But deep down, she knew she wished the two boys never met again. Because there were only two circumstances under which they could meet, and neither were favourable.

The first would be if Y/n returned to the night court, and Feyre knew that wouldn't happen as Y/n didn't want Rhys to mess with her or her son's life ever again.

And the second would be if Feyre left Rhys.

And she wished that it never came to that.

It wasn't that she didn't believe Y/n. At first she hadn't, but then Y/n had showed Feyre her memories, and Feyre had to believe her, no matter how much she wanted it all to be a lie. Because fabricating someone's memories was too hard and even unheard of.

Feyre told herself Rhysand's weird behaviour was only the result of heartbreak, of finding out he had another son all along.

She hoped he would go back to normal, that one day he would wake up and realise how bad his condition had been becoming, how he had been weeping and wasting away for something he could never have and throwing away everything he did have for the illusion of happiness.

As she reached the door of the river house, she wiped away all her thoughts and simply focused on getting Nyx to go to sleep. Or do anything but stay away from his father.

Rhys would probably yell at the little boy if he was in a foul mood, and Feyre simply could not handle watching her son cry.

"Hey Nyx, why don't we make cookies? Would you like that?"

Nyx nodded happily. "Yes mommy. We can do that after I give papa this stone."

"No Nyxie. Can we not give papa the stone later? Or I can give it to him." Feyre offered.

Nyx held the stone away from Feyre, shielding it with his body as he frowned. "No. I will give it to papa."

Before Feyre could try more to convince him, he ran off, climbing the stair as fast as his ittle legs would carry him.

She followed him, making as little noise as possible. Because in the past few weeks, even the littlest noises had been triggering her mate's urge to destroy everything in sight.

"Nyx! Nyx, slow down!" She whispered, frantically reaching for him. He had already reached the landing, and now ran to his father's office.

The door was slightly ajar, and Nyx pushed it open the rest of the way in his haste to give the stone to his father himself.

Feyre reached the door, her heart beating in her throat, just in time to see Nyx reach his hands up, the stone cupped in them, towards Rhys, who was staring down at the little boy, his eyebrows raised.

Rhys took the stone, inspecting it carefully before a nonchalant look crossed his features, and Feyre immediately knew that he was going to throw the rock away and either yell at Nyx or dismiss him entirely.

Feyre didn't want to see her boy sad, and so she reached out with her daemati powers and knocked on the mighty walls of the fortress surrounding Rhys's mind.

He glanced up, irritation evident in his eyes, but he let her speak to him through a small window that he created.

Please don't hurt him. Please pretend.

Rhys cocked his head, and Feyre could practically see the wheels turning in his head, and a sense of dread gripped Feyre when a slow smirk spread across Rhysand's face.

Sure, Feyre. He purred in her mind before he looked down at the little boy, who stared up at his father with a hopeful smile on his face.

"This is beautiful, my boy. Thank you so much." And with that, Rhys pocketed the rock, and Nyx giggled, turning to Feyre with the biggest toothy grin ever.

"Mommy, are we going to make cookies now?"

Before Feyre could respond, Rhysand cut in. "How about you do it with Nuala and Ceridwen? I have an important thing to discuss with mommy."

Nyx nodded, then sprinted away to the stairs, and as Feyre watched him go, the dread coiling around her heart felt like a vise.

"What did you want to talk about?" She asked once Nyx was out of sight, and Rhys gestured at her to come in and lock the door. She did so without questioning him.

The moment the lock clicked shut, Rhys prowled forward, his hands landing on the sides of Feyre's shoulders, caging her in against the door. He leaned down, his hot breath washing over the side of her face as he whispered directly in her ear.

"It's been so long since we've had some alone time," A pause as he began to peel her clothes off of her. "Y/n darling."

•○🌑○•

Feyre stared at the beams of moonlight across the ceiling, tears running down the sides of her face and into her hair.

She was ashamed and disappointed in herself, and as she curled into a ball on her side, she considered peeling off her skin and setting fire to it.

She sniffled quietly, her mind refusing to think of anything but the past few hours, when Rhys had touched her, worshipped her like he were a devoted male and she a goddess.

Except hers was not the name he chanted in his prayers.

No, it was of his former lover, and for some reason, she had not been able to push him off of her or do anything to let him know she did not want him to touch her while he was lost in the thoughts of another female.

Rhys had wounded Feyre's heart for nearly half the night, and she could do nothing about it.

Worse were the way he'd rubbed salt on her wounds after the whole ordeal, telling her she was nothing compared to her. That Feyre could never be her, and that it really was a waste of time to have pursued Feyre to see if a mate was worth loosing Y/n over when he could have been with Y/n all along.

Every muscle in Feyre's body clenched as she tried to quiet her sobs so as not to wake him as he slept peacefully at her back.

Feyre didn't know what to do.

Slowly, her mind drifted to that day a month ago, when she and Y/n had talked, and Y/n had showed Feyre exactly what Rhys had done to her.

Feyre... you can come with us.

You can live with us.

Look Feyre, you are Nyx's mother. You know what's best for him. If you need time, then take some time. Think about this if you want. But leave him Feyre. He does not deserve you or Nyx.

I can't force you to come with us but... I beg you Feyre. Think about this. And when you are ready, write to me. I will ask Eris to make arrangements for your safe travel to autumn court.

Feyre sniffed, wiping her tears with her palms as her path forward became clearer.

Write to me.

A pen and paper appeared next to the bed on the nightstand, and Feyre picked them both up, scribbling down a quick message and then winnowing it away, hoping her friend was awake and found it.

Though that would be a miracle, as it was quite literally the middle of the night, and not many people stayed up crying over their pathetic lives.

But there was nothing else Feyre could do except hope, because anything else had been stolen away by her mate. The one who was supposed to never harm her.

With one last look at the sleeping form beside her, Feyre stood, gathering all her discarded clothes and pulling them on, trying not to cringe in embarassment.

Then, she grabbed a bag, stuffed all her clothes and Nyx's inside of it, especially all the expensive gowns of hers. She could maybe sell them to make a little extra money.

Just before se left her and Rhysand's room, her gaze snagged on a bundle of money Rhys stored in his drawer, and a plan formed in Feyre's mind, and her lips lifted in a small smirk.

It seemed that the meeting with Fin would happen sooner rather than later.

And that a visit to the bank was necessary.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @holb32@awoa1@cleverzonkwombatsludge@luvmoo@we-were-beautiful@eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913@j-pendragonx@thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnightz@esposadomd @littleffawn @mandowhatnow@bubybubsters@eos-princess@nightless@bigcreatorwombatdreamer @princesslolaasworld @asemkta @cat-or-kitten@txzii @bunnyredgirl @theofficialmadman@leeknows-wife@aria-chikage@amygdtjhddzvb @azriels-mate123 @inky-clover@kemillyfreitas @12358 @justdreamstars @cuethedepession @princessvesta @fides25 @nocasdatsgay@acourtofbatboydreams@stained-glass-eyes0708@glaciuswduo@wallacewillow0773638@cassie6392

Y

[fangsforiris]

I've recently checked out your Yui x female headcanons and I wanna know do you actually think Yui falling in love with the diaboys is just Stockholm syndrome? I know they’re just meant to be head canons but I’m pretty curious about it (but I’m pretty sure she genuinely fell in love with them)

I was waiting for this one!! Here’s an analysis on my end!!

TW FOR PEDOPHILIA, STOCKHOLM SYNDROME, DIABOLIK LOVERS TYPICAL ABUSE.

So let’s start off with who Yui is as a character.

She’s supposed to be written as a sheltered, sweet, and overall empathetic girl who follows a strict moral code, mainly influenced by her religious views (Roman Catholicism).

This is heavily implied as in Romania at the time and as of current, Roman Catholicism is the main religion practiced.

It’s canon that her interactions with men have been controlled, as seen with her father— who did neglect her, leaving her to eat meals by herself, always be home alone, and basically only rely on the nuns for some support— but even then it wasn’t enough.

Hence why she can be considered to be a ‘good housewife’ since she has that experience on knowing how to manage a household with chores and all.

Even further pushing it for her previous relations with men, we know she had friends before— a life before— the house. Men? I would assume she was cordial when needed to be, but never was allowed to heavily interact, which is why she’s so out of date with her speaking, and pop culture— as it’s revealed by Yui, herself, that she doesn’t know that much.

But of course, why is that important? It gives the key foundlings to her environment, and also aids in assessing who’s more susceptible to Stockholm syndrome, and any tactics of abuse.

Basically who is the best ‘target’ for abusers to get too.

Her father canonically has given off-hand sketchy vibes, and also has canonically shown borderline pedophilic behaviours towards his own adoptive daughter. Even going as far as to want and attempt to marry her.

(I’m not sure where that is shown again, but in some MB routes— Kou’s, Ruki’s— he [Seiji, Her adoptive father] meets Yui and assumes she’s a vampire and attempts to kill her.)

Basically, it all starts at home. It sets the ground work for what you can take and what a person is conditioned to believe, etc.

In this case, Yui is conditioned to believe that it’s at least normal for her to appropriate these behaviours, and in a sense, still talk good about the men around her because she doesn’t know any better. She doesn’t know anything other than this.

That’s why she still tries her best to talk about her father is a positive light, because, due to her good heart, wants to believe and see the best and people (a core part in her character which allows her to live and persevere all routes— especially HDB with the boys.)

So due to that, we can take the groundwork presented to us as a Player, Reader, or consumer of the games and Diabolik Lovers Media, that Yui’s relationships and viewpoints of men is formed and directly influenced by her father and what rules he set up.

A psychological fact, everyone’s core parts and associations all start at home, with our parents. That’s why many get their viewpoints of how a man should treat you, via your father figure. And so forth.

It starts with discipline, then forming views and opinions, and overall how the treatment you receive reflects directly what you are constantly engaged and exposed to in your home-life and environment.

So for Yui, we can understand the following—

A) Relations with Father figure (which impacts her views/treatment by men) is shifty, but she still speaks in good light.

B) She is used to being alone, and handling everything herself. Bottling it in as she didn’t have that many outlets other than the obvious religious standpoint.

C) Despite it all, she’s raised to be a good person and is high or quite white, on the scale of morality.

So with that being said, what is Stockholm Syndrome?

Stockholm Syndrome is a diagnosis given when:

A) Feelings of trust or affection felt in many cases of kidnapping or hostage-taking by a victim toward a captor.

B) Hostages sometimes develop a psychological bond with their captors. It is supposed to result from a rather specific set of circumstances, namely the power imbalances contained in hostage-taking, kidnapping, and abusive relationships.

That is the formal definition, given by Oxford Dictionary and Wikipedia (Cited from: King, David [2020], and Jameson, C [2010].)

Which are official reports reviewed by psychologists and psychiatrists who are heavily trained in their field.

Now, we can take it from the anime and HDB (the darkest of the games,) that Reiji implicitly states “You are not able to leave.” To which Subaru replies, “Just tell her that if she attempts to escape she’ll die.”

That in itself tells you there’s no escape. And that from that point on, Yui becomes a hostage. In a house with pre-established men who already are high level threats to Yui, and are highly dangerous.

And what is Yui? She’s afraid. Like any sane person who understands the power difference between a man and a woman— more specifically vampires. She learns this instantly, and also faces threats of bodily harm quick into her stay.

Whatever happens later on in any route, is Yui playing the saviour. She’s expected to cater to every boy, and there are heavy repercussions if she disobeys.

There’s a master post of everything in HDB that occurs when the boys attempt to kill her.

And of course, this doesn’t just start at HDB, this also extends all all games, MB, DF, LE, and just any and all games when there’s an introduction in characters or simply just any routes.

In every route there will be at least some sort of implication of abuse or undertones. As that is what Diabolik Lovers is, a dark video game series.

Point is, if it’s Diabolik Lovers, expect some sort of abuse towards the MC/Yui/Player.

With this basis and mentality in mind, it’s heavy and dark. Which is what lead many previous brides to take their own life. They couldn’t handle the constant pressure nor the abuse being presented to them that they underwent.

So where does Yui fit into all of this?

A) She’s one of the many brides and assumed to be the last bride to enter the house due to her complicated relations with her heart.

B) She is undergoing the abuse of the Sakamaki’s, Mukami’s, Tsukinami’s, and Kino.

C) She is quite literally a victim and survivor of what countless other brides have died to. The only thing keeping her alive is her heart, which also goes to make problems for her in the future.

It’s been stated, highlighted, emphasized and understood by everyone— including Yui herself, that all she is worth is her blood. A blood bag. That is it.

Of course, this is where the Adam and Eve Plan would come into play with Yui finding an Adam out of the candidates.

However, she is still in this environnement which tolerates and even thrives off of her abuse.

Which would, in some routes, condition her to become a masochist, thriving off of her own pain, just because the vampires constantly tell her, gaslight her, and condition her to believe that she likes it.

Even after Yui consistently states she doesn’t.

(This is also influenced by Cordelia’s heart, and what Cordelia is subconsciously pushing Yui too aswell, as seen in HDB, one of the scenes with Shuu as he gets jumped in the alleyway. Her thoughts— driven by Cordelia in the moment— reflect sadistic intent. Another scene where she’s pushed to enjoy her suffering, even when Yui fights against it because somewhere inside her knows it’s wrong.)

However, this isn’t to say that the boys don’t get character development. They do. Which is how we as a consumer and player can have fan favourites and like them.

But how do they get to that point? Through Yui. Using Yui as a direct catalyst to project their abusive tendencies into her, leaving her to pick up the pieces with herself, and become an unlicensed therapist to aid in their problems.

This is directly influenced by each of the Sakamaki’s mommy issues, the Mukami’s inferiority complexes and need to succeed, and for the Tsukinami’s— their need for their race to be saved.

And of course, understanding every boys’ underlying complexities of their individual traumas which make up their character as we know it.

Yui has to suffer a lot for her to get what we see it, or what is painted as, ‘love and a good ending,’ with the selected boy and route of each respective game— along with the boy chosen.

She gets here because she’s slowly conditioned to allow these abusers to take over her life, and basically become what they need in that moment.

But she does have her own personality, her own goals, motivations, and whatnot.

However it becomes overrided by the survivor mentality she’s instantly placed in when she’s constantly around these vampiric men. She’s always on her guard, and the moment she drops it, it’s used against her.

Even when she’s seemingly in a good moment with the boys, understand, that one wrong move can send her straight to death. So everything is much more calculated than it seems.

In fact— to further prove the Stockholm syndrome affect— Yui acknowledges that she’s stuck and trapped. In Shuu’s HDB route, DARK 01, she only attempts to get Shuu to go to his classes in hopes that the Sakamaki’s will be greatful to her and let her leave.

So even if she does happen to find attraction in any of the boys, and fall in love, there’s still an outlining of conditioning that gets her to that point.

This isn’t to hate on anyone that ships Yui with any of the boys, this is simply a brief analysis of the facts from a purely psychological approach!! I’d like to think if the boys got therapy and worked through their problems, perhaps then, they wouldn’t have projected their traumas onto Yui.

But thank you for the ask!! This was fun to analyze!!

[villainbun]

Masking fire

Dabi x Gn!reader and Mr.Compress x Gn!reader

Tw: yandere Dabi, yandere Mr.Compress, toxic relationship, eventual cheating, mask kink

ʚ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ɞ ʚ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ɞ ʚ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ɞ

You were sitting on one of the bar stools in the LoV hideout while Toga raved on about wanting to see that green haired hero boy again. You barely registered anything as the alcohol seeped into your body. Not that you were usually like this with her, you did enjoy conversing with her on the daily basis. However, tonight was different, you were too busy worrying about seeing Dabi again after what happened a few days ago.

“I thought we’ve talked about this already” you sighed.

“Relax babe, they are all dust by now. It’s fine” he said as if he was proud of burning random men until they were unrecognizable.

“But, what if you get caught? I don’t want to lose you” you frustratedly responded.

“Look at me” “Hey! Look at me, nothing’s gonna happen” he grabbed your chin and leaned in for a kiss. You felt his hands grabbing your waist and his semi hard cock rubbing against you.

“But you should be careful, the police and heroes are out looking for us what if-” you said as you weren’t in the mood.

“Tsk” he tutted. “Listen, I’m tired of you yapping like a bitch all day long, why don’t you come here” he barked back.

“But I…” you muttered until you realized it was useless to say anything. He didn’t listen to you before what made you think this time would be different.

“That’s it, I’m done. I can’t even relax anymore. Fuck this” he grumbled as he stepped away probably to smoke another cigarette and blow some steam off. It was always the same whenever your antics got too much, he would just walk away like you were wrong for caring for him.

Somehow, the nervousness you felt went away as soon as you saw Dabi coming back safely with Spinner, Twice and Compress. Toga immediately jumped up on her feet and rushed towards Twice, finally her favourite person to chat with in the League was back. Mr.Compress along with Spinner were heading your way.

“You know a lady should not be drinking alone, want us to keep you company?” Compress offered. You blushed slightly at him and nodded happily. Compress sat next to you and next to him was Spinner who was trying to steal the bottle away from you.

Mr.Compress removed his black and white mask leaving just his eyes and mouth uncovered by the ski mask. His gentle eyes stared at you briefly and maybe it was the alcohol talking at that moment, but you couldn’t help noticing how attractive he was. The mask certainly did a good job accentuating his features. His chocolate eyes made you feel warm and his luscious lips parted as he spoke to you leaving his pearly white teeth to shine through. You had to excuse yourself and go to your room. What are these weird thoughts creeping into your mind? You shouldn’t have drank so much, but it just felt so good to temporarily forget you and Dabi’s rocky situation even if it was for bit.

After you got into your room still ignoring Dabi’s presence, he thought to himself that he needed to figure out a way to get you back into his arms. He went up groggily to Compress and asked him to borrow one of his many ski masks. Did you really think he wouldn’t notice you making googly eyes at Compress in that mask. He knew you and your dirty mind enough to realize that you were flustered by men in masks. He was tired of this bratty behaviour, now it was time for you to be put back in your place. He won’t be tolerating your bickering any longer…

Later that night, Shigaraki yelled out from the other room, telling you both to shut up as you giggled and leaned onto Dabi’s chest as he kissed the top your head. It always ended the same, but with his body against yours nothing mattered, not the fight, not his temper, not this cycle that you were in. Everything was okay again, at least until the next time you lose your mind over his safety.

Little did you know that, in Mr.Compress’ room, he was figuring out a way to make you all his. There was no doubt in his mind that he would treat you so much better than that arsonist maniac.

ʚ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ɞ ʚ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ɞ ʚ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ɞ

I’ll be writing a part 2 eventually. It will lean more into Mr.Compress and reader

[scaly-freaks]

Snippet of Rhaena/Aemond from my AO3 fic which I probably won't be able to fit into the work itself because...plot issues. Might write bits here, I don't know. We'll see.

tw // implication of dubcon

"WHERE IS SHE?"

For such a petite woman, his wife screams like a banshee. But to her little dragon - that raw, pink, ugly creature - she coos like a siren, all trills and undulations.

Rhaena's arm sweeps across the table, sending his books scattering. Half of them belonged to her grandfather, along with a few scrolls from Yi Ti scribed in a language Aemond has yet to decipher. He pores over them in the evenings, following along with Corlys's annotations - he never had much opinion on the man beyond helping to kill his wife. But Aemond must admit that he had a sharp mind for linguistics.

"Your dragon - " he pauses to finish reading a line of script, thumb pressed to the ink-stained paper. " - is safe. Don't fret."

Rhaena's voice dips low, trembling with rage. "Give her back. She needs me to feed her. She won't feed unless I prepare the bottle - "

"That's funny. She was feeding just fine when I left her with the dragonkeeper." Aemond flings the scroll on the table, and tosses one leg over the other, hands folded across his stomach.

He smiles at her - that cold, cruel, curl of a smile - and waits for it to sink in.

For months now, he has been patient, allowing his wife to come to terms with the reality of their marriage. Granted, he had forced his sister to give her stepdaughter over in marriage as the only elder left in that wretched household, but there was no mistreatment beyond that. Rhaena had her own chambers, her own separate life. All he asked was that eventually, she turn her mind to the reality of ruling a great house.

Heirs.

"Give her back," she repeats, and he almost feels sorry for her. It is clear she is struggling to draw air into her lungs, the absence of her dragon has her so distraught. "Please."

"Give me what I want and you can have your dragon."

"Sire a bastard and have your brother legitimise it. Isn't that what you fought the war for? So that you could both do as you wished? Now this realm is yours. Go! I give you permission. Find a whore and sire a whelp, but first return my dragon to me."

Aemond rises from his chair, slowly, so as not to alarm her.

Ever since the incident in the riverlands, Rhaena has treated him like a caged tiger, giving him a wide berth where and when she can. When he is reminded whose daughter she is, her fear strokes his nerves like silk on velvet, satisfies that deep, sadistic pit in his stomach he has nursed since the first time he watched Vhagar's flames swallow a man whole.

He won't hurt her - the girl is too precious for that sort of bad behaviour - but her fear keeps her in line, prevents her from choosing treason in her bid to escape. Besides, her mother's dragon now keeps watch, turning her childhood home into a prison, one which she has tried and failed to run from. The irony is steeped in poetry.

Rhaena takes a step back, and then another, glassy eyes searching his face for any indication he will accede.

"I want heirs off you." Half the battle is won through physical stature, and Aemond towers over his wife in her delicate rose-pink dress and gold-braided hair. She is a petal, easily plucked and viciously torn, unlike her sister who is all thorns and ice. "A boy, another boy, and then maybe a girl. Little fishes to populate Corlys Velaryon's grand, old Driftmark."

She is staring at him as if her mind has left her body and walked a hundred miles into the sea, deep under the white foam, to a place where he cannot reach her. Except a single trace of his finger down one of her braids brings her twitching back to him.

Only one question remains.

"So...do you want your dragon back, Rhaena?" Aemond asks, sugary sweet.

[shinjisdone]

Ticking Springs

(A Yandere Pinocchio X fem!Reader fic from Lies of P)

Pɑɾt 1; Sluɱbeɾ

capitolo uno

here is: capitolo due

capitolo tre

capitolo quattro

capitolo cinque

capitolo sei

capitolo sette

Capitolo otto

Capitolo nove

Capitolo dieci

Pɑɾt 2; Awɑƙeƞiƞƍ

It was a privilege to share the same blood as Giuseppe Geppetto. To be his family, his niece and take part in the marvelous worlds of puppets. The privilege to learn from him as his apprentice. The privilege to care for the things he cares for and to have the things he cares for, care deeply for you.

Tag list:

@greeknerd007 , @mitsureigen , @kame11a , @thirdblogsacharm , @sarah22447 , @blueberryhitosh1 , @written1nthest4rs , @huicitawrites

TW in general: Yandere behaviour, creepy and still puppet, dubious intentions and relationship, still in WIP more warnings may occurr in time

TW here are: Geppetto being motivating and discouraging, anxious reader, mysoginy?, a boy is calling girls stupid

The sun had shown her face seldomly on Krat this morning.

Gepetto laughed at his own thought as he stretched. Already clothed for the day with his usual white shirt, reddish-brown vest and striped pants, he went over his usual routine. His old legs carried him over from the bedroom, to the kitchen and straight to his office without hesitation – yet this morning he halted and leaned back at the sight he was seeing.

He observed silently before sucking in a breath. “I doubt you got a good night’s sleep, yet judging from your work on the butlers,” His head nodded as he eyed the two automated puppets standing as still and tall as candles with toothy, almost cartoon-y smiles. Their teeth, though exaggerated to radiate an ridicouless amount of politeness, shown so brightly it was an almost uplifting sight. The black suits that adorned their mechanical forms were mended and ironed and the paint redone before they were even put in their new clothes. Their eyes and brows, tailored after the customer’s request, almost looked real – warm and inviting even though all their purpose was to serve and obey to noble families at home.

Nobody would truly care whether or not their puppet butlers were physically pleasing to look at – that’s what Geppetto believed as he introduced them to the Workshop Union so many years ago though his marketer colleagues quickly proved how delighted so many families would become. From the wife to the children, to the busy family head that would return home and would greet the puppet first. He himself had grown fond of them and was glad that he let his creative side show when creating puppets personifying entertainment.

“…You were as busy as a bee, dear.” You couldn’t help but turn your head and smile at him, your eyes shining as bright as a star to him. “Thank you, Uncle.” You say, “But this doesn’t prove itself difficult anymore. I believe I’ve learned a lot.” Your eyes would flicker between the puppets and him. Geppetto nodded in return. “Seems like you have. You always had a talent for the art.” “It always impressed me, Uncle. I honestly never thought you’d ever take me in as your apprentice when I was younger.”

His smile broke for a moment before he replaced with pressed lips. He took a breath before looking at you again. “…I always hoped this craft would be staying in the family. Or at least, be carried by it with interest. Your father was never too keen on it as I was and am.”

You nodded along, knowing of his intentions. It was no secret to you either that your old man never showed interest, even in your younger days. Geppetto continued, sounding higher, “But you do, dear. And that is gift enough.” Leaning back, the man took a sip of his warm coffee. “Still, I wasn’t sure to take you in. You’re young and inexperienced compared to most people of Krat.”

“I can learn.” You intervened yet with another smile. “I have so far, haven’t I?” You turn back to gesture to the two butler puppets, their appearance almost as good as new – impeccable if Geppetto didn’t know that they were once broken. Malfunctioning one and two times too much until they tumbled down the stairs with all the trays of wine and juice tainting them and their system.

The older man nodded as he swallowed his drink. “I will not lie. Still, they’ll have to be looked at by me first before anyone else in the public can even see them.”

Your breath hitched slightly in your throat as Geppetto put away his coffee and started a puppet up. Taking a step back, your hands fiddled in a closed position. “I…” You began but felt your mouth too dry for any words and as the springs reacted and ticked, any chance at expressing yourself was out the window.

With a swung, the butler stood straight, its head crooked to the side. The arm bent to a sharp 90°degree, the fingers twitched as if longing to hold a wine glass. As flawless as its toothy smile was, it could barely open its jaw. “Good morning to you, Sir. How ma-may I s-se-serve – serve-“

It tried to repeat its sentence again but could only manage buzzing noise. You winced at the high pitch.

“…The coats and paint are no problem,” You gingerly stepped closer, “…but I…I am afraid I still need some time, and, and lessons on how to repair and set the voice box…and maybe repair the automation…” Your voice grew quieter. Geppetto stood up without a word.

“…You are getting there.” He dusted his vest off, “But do not dive with your head first in. It’s early, go fetch us some fresh bread.” Clumsily you agreed and quickly shut off the puppet. Carefully setting it aside, you could glance from the corner of your eye Uncle leaving the room with his cold coffee in hand.

The door was closed shut with one hand as the other arm tunneled into the sleeve of your old jacket. Skipping over the puddles from last night, you patted yourself down on the way to the bakery. While the road was a skip away, you still hurried over and found yourself glad to be early enough for no other customers to be in there.

The small bell rang as you opened and closed the glass door again and were quickly greeted by the cabinet displaying various loafs. It always surprised you how much variety a bakery as this one offers and had to keep yourself from buying the delicious-looking buns always as well. You had to spend your pocket money wisely here in Krat.

Your eyes scanned the assortment and unwittingly caught your reflection in the glass cabinet. Hair untidy and bags unfortunately showing under your eyes – it left you a bit annoyed yet ashamed that someone like you already managed to look like a mess in the morning – and even more unfortunate was it that the good baker had already spotted you.

“Morning to you, young lady!”

Turning to the voice, your thinly pressed lips turned upwards. “How may I serve you today?” The mechanical replica of a baker’s hat first feigned to fall – before it was quickly set up on round tin. The puppet had a set of extra rosy and round cheeks that suited his crinkled eyes and bright smile. It fit the picture-book image of a kind baker and you noted that this model seemed to have a wavy mustache alongside a yellow-striped apron.

You couldn’t hold back your giggle as you pointed at your order. With another gleeful and automated response, the tray under the loaves moved akin to an assembly line and the baker puppet took each bread and packed them full of vim and vigor.

The ribbon tied to the paper bag was impeccable as expected. And charming as well, to you at least.

Yet as your eyes fell to the register as you handed the money, another round of irregular footsteps entered the small room. Hurrying from around the corner came yet another figure, made out of flesh and bone as her green eyes darted over to you. She strode forward to the puppet and your shoulders fell. “Four sixty-five, was it not?” Adjusting her glasses, her gaze went up from the goods in your arms to the puppet and back to the register. She tucked a strand hair behind her ear. “So sorry for the interruption, this fella once miscalculated the price of the Ciabatta and, well…” Trailing off, she opened the register herself, took the money out the puppet’s palm forcefully before handing you back the change. “This all, right? The usual?”

Her low tone snapped you back from your trance. “Oh!” You let out and stuck the money back into your pocket, “Oh, yes. Yes, it is, I think. For breakfast.”

“You buy that often, don’t you? For the past month now or so?” Her low voice grew as she shifted her weight to the side, her blue apron swinging as she rested her hand to her hips. She watched you carefully as she waited for an answer.

The baker girl could see your eyes darting to the bread. “Oh, I suppose so. A month now, has it been that long?” You stuttered out and finished with a strained laugh. “Felt short to me.”

“You’re not from here.” Finally, she cracked a sneaky smile, “I can tell.” “Oh,” Again, you laugh as you eye the paper bag. “I am not…you got me.”

Quickly you gazed back to the still and smiling puppet. “The good baker here just served me most of the time…I never noticed any miscalculations or getting less change.” Lips quirking upwards briefly, you looked back to the girl. “I would have said something as well if I got too much change, of course.”

“No worries, I’m sure you’d do. Good ol’ Panetti just started getting math wrong…I have to confess there was a wee accident with flour and water a few days ago.” She gave him a few good pats on his shoulder, the metal resounding, “We’d have to send him to the Workshop Union soon or else I’ll come strolling down every time he deals with a customer.”

“Such things are easy to readjust.” You spoke up, “It’s just to rearrange the number system and have him test out a few math problems. As if he was a school boy.”

As she cocked a brow, you inhaled sharply and licked your lips.

With a quick nod, you stepped towards the exit. “Why, anyway, I must head back. Uncle is waiting for his favorite loaves and I’d best deliver while they are warm.” A fast excuse and you were half-way through the door, holding it open with one foot. Thankfully it was the puppet that approached and held the door open for you. The tiny bell resounded again.

A chuckle was heard shortly after and you turned back to see the girl waving at you. “We are looking forward to your patronage again, good puppet maker!”

Your heart jumped at the title. Yet you could not decipher if it was out of anxiety or excitement.

Yet before your lips could quirk up, a small force bumped into your side.

Looking down, you were met with furrowed, dark eyes glancing up to you before snapping to the voice behind. “Roberto!” A woman called out. “Roberto, I told you to take your sister with you!”

As the young boy’s eyes and yours followed to where she was pointing, both of you saw an even smaller, younger little girl struggling to keep up. The weight of the doll that was half her size kept her back but with the way she fiddled and played with its dark curls, you could deduce that she insisted on taking it with her.

“Roberto!”

“I know, Ma!”

The boy suddenly and vehemently shouted out, you couldn’t help but startle. Those dark eyes that seemed simply brooding when on you, were now actively in a glare at his mother and sister.

“I told you though, I don’t wanna! Girls are stupid!”

Instead of quirking up in a nervous smile, your mouth was pressed into a thin line and your glare mimicked the boy’s. He noticed and let out a much softer ‘Sorry, miss.’ before begrudgingly waving his younger sister to follow. Without another glance, you marched back to the workshop.

The latest event left a sour taste in your mouth.

You tried to hide it when entering the kitchen, Geppetto raising a brow as he prepared you two cups of coffee.

when you wanna post the yandere but have to establish setting and characters first

[red-moon-at-night]

Let's talk a little bit about Mahiru's boyfriend

This post is alternatively titled "Mahiru's Boyfriend Probably Had An Eating Disorder And I Am Very Sad About It So Now You Get To Be Sad About It With Me" but that felt a bit much in the bold title font so I'm trying to tone this down at least a little bit :')

So I was reading this wonderful post earlier (you should too btw it has a LOT of interesting information), and as I was going through the food section something clicked in my brain. Pieces of information that were drifting aimlessly before quickly came together for me and I almost wish they hadn’t because oh boy is it depressing.

Now, nothing I’m about to say here is explicitly stated - but I do think it is strongly insinuated, through the MVs of both ‘This Is How To Be In Love With You’ (TIHTBILWY what an acronym wow) and ‘I Love You’. I am aware that the latter video has a lot of metaphorical imagery, but I still think some of this imagery can be taken in a literal sense to reinforce ideas established in TIHTBILWY.

TW/Trigger Warnings: discussion of eating disorders (anorexia, bulimia, etc.), discussion of suicide and suicidal thoughts. Please take these into consideration and stay safe!

credit to iaobug’s transcribed images from ‘This Is How To Be In Love With You’ used below btw!

Now I’ve always had an inkling this could be possible, but I didn’t realise until recently there was this much evidence supporting a little idea of mine dancing around in my head.

But First, Some Quick Definitions and Criteria

First things first, I think we should briefly clarify what an eating disorder is and what eating disorder I think Mahiru’s boyfriend most likely had.

Here are some definitions:

Eating disorders are behavioral conditions characterized by severe and persistent disturbance in eating behaviors and associated distressing thoughts and emotions. They can be very serious conditions affecting physical, psychological and social function. (source)

An eating disorder is a mental health condition where you use the control of food to cope with feelings and other situations. (source)

And here are some brief introductions to several types of eating disorders:

The most common eating disorders are:

anorexia nervosa – trying to control your weight by not eating enough food, exercising too much, or doing both bulimia – losing control over how much you eat and then taking drastic action to not put on weight binge eating disorder (BED) – eating large portions of food until you feel uncomfortably full

Other specified feeding or eating disorder (OSFED) – A person may have an OSFED if their symptoms do not exactly fit the expected symptoms for any specific eating disorders.

(source)

Okay, so we have some basic information down, cool! This is not fully comprehensive but it will do for the purposes of this segment.

So what eating disorder do I believe Mahiru’s boyfriend had? 

I’m not sure! The information we have is not conclusive enough for me to confidently pick an option. What I will say is most likely, and most common, is OSFED and the concept of the eating disorder cycle. People’s symptoms will often overlap with multiple diagnoses, or shift from one mode of behaviour (e.g. the restrictive eating behaviours found in anorexia) to another (e.g. binge eating and following compensatory behaviours found in bulimia).

Things are often not as clear-cut or black and white as we’d like to imagine.

Let’s move onto looking at the MVs, shall we?

This first music video has a wealth of information hidden in its cute magazine-style annotations and imagery - information that, when you look a little closer and consider the bigger picture, raises all the alarm bells in my mind.

Parts of ‘This Is How To Be In Love With You’ That Make Me Pause In Concern, In Chronological Order:

The Bread

Let's start off with a not very obvious one.

One of the first things we learn about Mahiru’s soon-to-be-boyfriend (which by the way this is literally the 2nd time he’s mentioned) is ‘wow he buys a lot of bread’. Insignificant on its own, I know, but consider this through my lens if you will: my man has bought 5 whole baguettes from a bakery. Not 2 or 3, but 5. Actually, on closer inspection there's even more bread of a different type at the bottom of that bag too. These aren’t store-bought, they’re fresh and will probably go stale in a few days. Pray tell, if the man is not eating baguette for breakfast lunch and dinner over the course of 72 hours... why did he buy so much fucking bread?

What comes to mind when I see this is binge eating. Bread is one of the most common binge foods out there; anything with high carbohydrates or high fat content, in fact, often due to its “unhealthy” or “forbidden” nature.

We'll just have a quick look at Mahiru's comment again:

"I thought to buy the same bread he did, but this is far too much for me to eat... ><

I forgot to ask how many calories there are..."

If it hasn't been established by now with the MV's aesthetic, Mahiru cares about her appearance. A lot. Her self-image and beauty directly ties into looking 'good' enough for others, so she can find the love of her life and please him with her looks.

If Mahiru is also calorie counting, this does not bode well for their relationship. I should probably speak in past tense, actually... Mahiru's own self-image behaviours made her blind to her boyfriend's self-image behaviours. There we go.

But I'm getting ahead of myself here.

So, We have an indication of binge eating behaviours. Remind me again what comes after binging?

The Jogging Hobby

Oh, that’s right - purging.

Excessive exercise is an indirect method of purging/compensatory behaviour found in bulimia. A more commonly known purging method is self-induced vomiting, but that's certainly not the only way to counteract excess calories. 

So the jogging, while harmless in isolation, is starting to paint an ever-so-slightly worrying picture.

Again, let's take a look at Mahiru's comment:

"I had a chance to chat with him today, and he mentioned his hobby was jogging. ... I haven't exercised this much in ages... I'm totally exhausted..." 

The only hobby (not hobbies but hobby, singular) that we learn the boyfriend has is this. Sure, there's one movie that he also likes... but that's it. There's not much else to him! So when the two most prevalent ideas attached to this guy are 'food' (in excess) and 'exercise' (in excess)... you can see where I'm going with this.

And by the way, the post I linked at the very beginning? Well, they worked out the location of where this running loop is, and judging by Mahiru’s position and direction it would suggest she’s already jogged about 5km and beginning another loop. So we’re looking at a jog ranging from 5-10km (or more)...

The Alcohol

Okay, here's a quick pop quiz question for you. Who is more likely to get drunk on the same volume of alcohol: a 5"1 woman, or an average height (5"7 in Japan) man?

In theory, it should be the 5"7 man on the basis of his height and size. Alcohol tolerance goes up the bigger you are. 

So why is it that the boyfriend ended up blackout drunk, and Mahiru... didn't?

Let’s take a look at the comment:

“My first date at a bar, how heartpounding!

Here is where I learned he’s the biggest lightweight I’ve ever met! ...or maybe I’m just really good at holding alcohol?

Whatever the case, blackout drunk him is so cute!”

Three possible options:

Mahiru really can 'hold her liquor'. Judging by her sheltered home life and general lack of adult life experience though, I'm gonna press x to doubt here sorry mappi.

The boyfriend drunk more alcohol than Mahiru. Also unlikely, as she calls him a 'lightweight' and I think she would've highlighted this in her comment.

He drank on an empty stomach. Alcohol absorbs way faster if you haven't had anything to eat beforehand. This, I think is the most likely scenario.

Here's a little more on the subject that I found interesting:

You absorb 20 per cent of alcohol into your bloodstream through your stomach and the rest into your bloodstream through your small intestine.

Drinking a small amount of alcohol stimulates your appetite because it increases the flow of stomach juices. A large amount of alcohol dulls your appetite and can cause malnutrition. (source)

What have we learnt so far?

So we’ve established some concerning behaviours here.

He eats in excess

He exercises in excess

He drinks in excess (on an empty stomach)

I’m actually going to move onto material from the ‘I Love You’ MV, but intertwine it with some of the remaining points from TIHTBILWY. 

At this point the relationship has progressed, we’re moving into winter which brings with it the holiday season! Yay! Except not yay, because things are starting to look really bad for Mahiru’s boyfriend. We've gone from this:

To this:

The carousel was fine at first but now it’s taking its toll on him. Both of them have tattered clothes but Mahiru looks optimistic, whilst the boyfriend looks very distraught. His cheekbones are visible and overall he looks a lot less healthy. I guess this is a good time to point out how distinct and visible his collarbone has been this entire time by the way? He’s even bonier than before. Not great.

A lot of events occur at this time of year, such as Christmas (celebrated between couples in Japan as more of a lovers holiday) and new years. What happens a lot during that period of time? Food. Lots of it. This point in the year is not ideal for someone suffering from a worsening eating disorder. This is a period of time which someone would want to move very quickly from because they can’t see the end of it.

I think it’s time to read Mahiru’s comment from day 15:

“Happy new years! To celebrate, we went to a shrine.

Predictably, I already have my wish in mind.

May we stay like this until the end of time.

May nobody stand in my way”

She, on the other hand, is very happy for things to remain as they are.

Day 16 - AKA, Oh No Things Have Gone Terribly Wrong

This is where the narrative hits its climax and everything starts to snowball.

Now, we reach this scene where the boyfriend stops walking and breaks down. He kneels on the ground, digs his nails into it, and pleads for... something. Help? An intervention? A stop to this carousel that’s doing him no good and only making his health (physical and mental) worse?

He never speaks. It is a silent plea.

One that Mahiru misses.

Saying I love you but doing what I did, I know I have no right, crossed and covered in sin

My love, it scored an own goal, destroyed my love and me with its weight

Tell me, oh tell me why, can’t I just do it right

What did you do, Mahiru?

I believe that this scene and response:

Is directly parallel to this event:

As in, they’re the same thing. 

One more comment to read:

He’ll be in for a big, delicious surprise once he gets home!

I’ve made SO many notes about his favorite foods, and practiced my butt off!

I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he sees it all.

Her love - her surprise buffet to cheer him up - scored an own goal, so to speak.

I don’t think I need to say much about this picture, or this scene. She’s giving him excess but that excess is literally driving him over the edge. The nuance is lost between them, and they both need different things from each other and they’re not getting it. Cake to rats, rats to cake.

They’re back on the carousel, spinning around and around with things never changing, no end in sight.

I want to end on this frame of the MV. You see the pole behind the boyfriend? It’s reminding me of rope, and of a certain visual at the end of the video. The juxtaposition of Mahiru forcing her ‘love’ onto him, and of suicidal ideation being the only way off this ride and his problems.

[konigsblog]

toxic! price/ regular price headcannons/general analysis? pretty pleaseee. (sfw and nsfw🥺) im trying to write him for the first time and im struggling!! (would also love to hear your general analysis/hcs on the other boys as well!) ((you’re like my favorite cod blog and you’re just so talented i had to ask you)

lots of love and well wishes<3

- 🥐

thank you so so much!!! im so glad to be your favourite blog, it means a lot to me <33 i cant thank you enough for your support, thank you 🫶💐!!;

price analysis, and toxic!price headcannons.

TRIGGER WARNING; HEAVY MENTIONS FOR SUICIDAL, SELF HATRED AND SELF HARM THOUGHTS AND INTENTIONS, cheating, misogyny, being an ALCOHOLIC and addicted to alcohol, manipulative behaviour, price makes you feel worthless, being used for your body, toxic behaviour from price. (message me if i missed any)

my personal analysis. (read tw above)

price is a captain, he believes he's always right and never takes the blame for any wrongdoing - unless it's from a mission or death. he's an alcoholic due to the stress of the soldiers, their life on the line. laswell may try to get him to stop, but no therapy can help this hardened soldier.

he never really believes he's good enough. overworking himself and drinking multiple coffees to stay awake just to write hundreds of reports, rushed. he doesn't sleep, barely atleast. he'll stay up, contemplating suicide as he thinks about the many soldiers he's lost. it may be the reason he can't bring himself to start a family; the fear of losing everything, either from suicide, death, or his unstoppable alcoholic behaviour that only get worse as he continues to live.

he's definitely planned out his entire suicide, a gun always beside him. price tells people it's for safety, but is it really safety if the life that's on the line is his? that he could be pointing that at his forehead and pushing the trigger, guts and bloods all over the bathroom floor. but he won't, because of simon. simon views price as a father, how caring he is for the others mental health, no one ever checking up on him.

simon is like a son to price, the way he admires and looks up to him like a father, the father he never had and the son he'll never have. he's caring and affectionate which is why he wants kids of his own, to sew them bloom like a flower of gardens, pretty colours of crayons covering the white walls.

laswell and price had a relationship, both desperate for love after years without it. laswell realised she was a lesbian and price agreed that this wasn't the best relationship, because it wasn't. but a part of john didn't want to let go; saying he was unmarried in his forties felt odd, unnatural. he really wants someone to love, someone to care for him and give you a reason to stay, but without that, he's suicidal.

if he ever did let someone in, he wouldn't feel as if he deserves them, unlovable. pushing them away or lashing out whilst drunk, crying when you still comfort him despite his yelling. looking at himself in the mirror and seeing a monster - knuckles bloodied with pieces of glass stuck in his fist and layering the ground. forcing his hands into the shards to make himself bleed, believing he deserves pain. you wrap him up in gauze and keel him beside you, but he can never truly feel comfortable. the idea of being loved despite having blood stained on his boots makes his skin crawl. you deserve better.

personally, my analysis on his character is that he's cold-hearted and can't let anyone in even if he's so desperate for love, no one to warm his lonely heart. he takes pride in being a captain, his boys, his team mean everything to him. it's why he won't kill himself, won't pull the trigger on himself. he can't see gaz's face at the news, soaps humorous personality slowly withering away, or witness simon lose himself, losing the father that was never his.

toxic!price headcannons.

toxic!price who uses you for your body. he doesn't bother denying it; your tight pussy and perky tits, or when you suck his cock so nicely like that, drives him wild. you're mainly there to benefit him, like a servant, his slave.

gets so pissy when you don't listen. he's a borderline alcoholic and needs his beer, so when you get into screaming matches about his behaviour, he grits his teeth grabbing a beer from the fridge and gives you a cold hard look - not appreciating the efforts you put it to get him better.

toxic!price who's the biggest asshole you've ever met. who scoffs and rolls his eyes when you bring up feminism, saying something sexist or misogynistic just to get under your skin. or who doesn't care about your own personal needs, you're just some fucktoy he can use whenever he likes.

toxic!price who uses manipulative behaviour. who controls your lift and calls you a slag for mentioning enjoying some time at a bar, that you're just asking for attention. even if you tell him that you're just meeting with some friends, he'll force you back into the bathroom and make you wash away the makeup.

toxic!price who says you look ill when you don't have makeup on, that you look different (and he doesn't say it in a nice way.) he's the man to roll his eyes and say you look ugly when you're crying just so you stop making so much noise, who doesn't care about your personal feelings.

he pushes your body against his own as he sleeps, mindlessly, asleep. he doesn't do it on purpose but it gives you butterflies in your stomach, knowing you shouldn't feel this way about a toxic man like him.

he's cheated on you before, multiple times. he'd came home with women and made out with them on his lap, kissing them the same way you do, maybe nicer. god, you're lying if you say you didn't care, because you felt your heart break into a million pieces.

you don't know how to react, packing a few thingss into your purse and leaving the house, him throwing the woman off his lap to chase after you. forcing her out the house as he goes after you, grabbing you and pinning you against an alleyway wall, whispering aggressively to you under his breath. he genuinely doesn't really understand why you care so much, after all, you're just a fleshlight, right?

toxic!price who forces you to come home. and after that, he'll beg you for sex because that other woman didn't feel as tight as you did. it makes you feel horrible; insecure and lost. and he'll get all upset and annoyed when you refuse, that you're tired or not in the mood.

toxic!price who refers to you as a bitch, whore. he's the person to call you ‘woman’ as if it's a derogatory term, even though it's not. you'll berate him for this, “you're just a cumsleeve, doll, c'mon, let's be honest with ourselves.”

finding yourself between his thighs more times than not. your lips wrapped around his meaty cock while he forces you further down his shaft, complimenting you for being such a good girl for him - the only time he'll praise you; for sucking cock.

too bad he cums so much, all sticky and pearly running down your throat, making you gag from the smell of his musky balls and gross tasting semen. he laughs and forces your face into his balls, humping your pretty face when you refuse to suck his balls.

you broke up with him once and somehow ended up back in this mess, but now you're married and divorcing is too expensive so you're stuck with this dickhead forever :(

[darlingpwease]

ok, ok, shi mei being manipulative towards his beloved and tricks them into thinking that he is the best option and that you dont need others and you just have to follow him, him who always looks out for you.

but imagine he asks you to join him on his journey or well, plan, and you REFUSE. so he puts on a little crybaby show, sobbing and crying pathetically and begging you, saying that hes nothing without you, how he just means well as his golden tears fall down his beautiful face, even getting down on his knees and clinging at your waist.

best actor in shisheng peak? hell yeah

and you give in, your sweet little boy and swear that you will follow him. his plan worked. he decided to play the innocent and helpless facade a little longer. after all, being cradled by his beloved just because hes crying?

he would cry all day if it meant you not leaving him.

shixiong...

♡ unhealthy behaviour (emotional manipulation), pet names; yandere!reader implied if you squint, used 'shixiong' for the reader, shi mei is my little butterfly prince!!! he's done nothing wrong in his life!!!

SHI MEI has timid smile, soft face, small palms and peach blossom eyes that glow with something gently smoky in the glow of the night, like the tongues of a bonfire, but the shade is not at all like scarlet or gold — closer to blooming violet flowers that can stupefy the mind of anyone who looks too long. It's dark outside; the rain pours like a bucket, flooding the usually dark blue sky even more, making it completely black, even without a hint of white spots, the same spots as in SHI MEI'S eyes when he is happy.

But now his eyes are stringy, darkened, as if the rain has an effect on him, making his usually flexible and light figure heavy and clumsy, unable to even move to snuggle up to you, which he often does when you are alone, as if looking for protection and support from the whole world in you. As if your body is a bastion or a nest where he can hide, knowing that he will always be welcome there.

But now, while large spots are falling from the sky, breaking on rocks, cutting into many small water fragments, SHI MEI is silent — although he has never been sociable or extroverted, one glance of his eyes was enough for people to want to reach out, even if his face is always a blurry spot in someone else's memory.

“Shixiong...”

His voice sounds like rain, although SHI MEI himself smells of something pleasant, not at all damp or wet — but still like water, and when misty dark eyes rise from the flowers nailed by raindrops on you, you can't help but feel that something is about to happen.

Raindrops beat with the same force with which your heart beats, as if your subconscious itself finds out that before even scarlet lips have time to say, looking into his black pupils, not letting you look away even when a delicate fragile palm touches your shoulder — and slides down to the palm, covering it with his cool and narrow.

“I have something to tell you, shixiong... Shixiong, you... you'll always be on my side, right?”

His voice is like the murmur of water in a cave — not at all like the rain outside, and for some reason you feel strangely airy and grounded, listening to the sound of almost inaudible breathing, merging with a glimmer in his beautiful eyes, like light in a lake, even when it is dark and gloomy around.

“Shixiong, my shixiong... you are the most precious thing I have... I, I can't imagine what my life would be like without you— this shidi can't even imagine how lonely he would be if shixiong didn't exist... if shixiong had discarded this weak shidi, if shixiong would not have looked after this shidi...”

But you can't open your mouth — even when you desperately want to, seeing how he lowers down his eyes and thick black eyelashes, like a rare beauty in a moment of sadness, from which you want to hug him tighter, letting him know that you will always protect him — but before you do or say anything bright eyes are looking at you again, like two lights in the dead of night.

“Shixiong... You know what I want to talk about, right?”

Of course you know,

and of course you would prefer to avoid this conversation as much as possible; his fingers easily wrap around your wrist, squeezing while the deceptively fragile body jerks forward, like a taut string waiting for the slightest tension to burst.

“You can't avoid this forever, shixiong... Just give me the answer...”

His eyes shine like the surface of a wide clear lake under the rays of an unbearably bright sun — for the first time, the smoke, as if coming from a bright fire, dissipates, allowing the flowers in his eyes to bloom, showing you everything inside him, as if the once black lake dispersed, and all that he used to hide dissolved in the waters.

And then they are filled with a golden luster, shining in the night like a liquid sun — and just as scorching when you hurriedly reach for his face, managing to touch one drop remaining on your fingers like wet pollen — only for SHI MEI to move away, wiping the drops with a trembling sleeve of clothes, soaking the fabric with a sparkle like a sparkle from the Tianwen, and even the pain that remains in you is felt even more acutely than the blows of the whip.

“Shixiong... Shixiong...”

How pathetic and plaintive his voice sounds, breaking and trembling, but at the same time making you feel butterflies, from which everything inside curled into a knot, finding something perversely beautiful in the way tears flowed from his shiny watery eyes, leaving golden lines on beautiful innocent face, while the fragile body trembling with sobs, which he tried to restrain, but could not.

Even his white sleeves, stained with gold spots, seemed for some reason to emphasize even more how soft and tender SHI MEI was, like a bud that had not yet blossomed, which was looking for you to survive.

“Why? Why?... Is it because I'm a demon? Is it because I'm weak?”

New sobs made him tremble while he pressed his hands to himself, almost curling up into a ball, as if hiding from you, afraid that you would hurt him even more.

“No, no, shidi, I- it's not...”

“Then why?!”

He asked in desperation, looking straight into your eyes while thick big tears flowed down his ruddy cheeks and nose.

“Why?! Why don't you want me?! Why are you rejecting me?! Why am I not good enough?! Why don't you want me?!”

Your hands react faster than you, desperately clutching the sobbing body to yourself; the rain intensifies, as if reacting to his tears, as if SHI MEI is that pure fairy who can influence nature itself with his emotions, innocent and gentle, and you can't help but hold him tightly to yourself, forcing him to open his hands and nuzzle his nose into your neck.

“I'm ashamed, I'm so ashamed... It's all my fault... It's my fault that you don't want me... It's my fault that you hate me... I'm so sorry, shixiong...”

He hiccups while muttering apologies and sobs indistinctly, accusing himself in a stinging voice, saying something hoarsely that he did not want such a fate and that he was not to blame, he did not want to, he really did not want to, — but in your head everything is drowning in streams of water and his voice.

“I'm so sorry that I can't protect you, shixiong... I'm so useless... I just want to bring peace to my kind, but I can't even protect you... I'm so pathetic, I'm so clumsy, I'm so useless, I'm so stupid, I'm so—”

What else can you do but hold him tight?

“No, no, shidi, you're wonderful, you're capable... It's okay, shidi, it's okay... shidi... I, I will always be there, shidi, please don't cry...”

The rain falls in a squall on the ground, destroying weak flowers and plants, like water knives falling from the sky, breaking on strong soil — and such a defenseless, weak, needing you shidi, looking for you because he never has anything but you, so strong but forced to look for a support, a bastion that could hide him — what can you do other than rock him, stroking him until his breathing becomes calm, while his face, ruddy from sobbing, rests cheek against your cloth wet with golden drops, finally finding peace, even if through his sleep you still hear him hiccup, trembling in your hands.

Your cute shidi.

Your precious shidi.

After all, what can you do? If he needs you, your help, what can you do? After all,

you are his shixiong.

When you fall asleep, leaning your back against the wall behind, still tightly but lovingly hugging the figure of your beloved pure shidi, SHI MEI can't resist enthusiastically, puppy-like rubbing against your shoulder, keeping himself from happy squeaking, squinting with pleasure.

If he had a tail, he would wag it, — but now his body is only slightly trembling while he tries not to move restlessly, trying to get as close to you as possible.

So that's your weak spot, huh?

[carnyreborn]

Shuichi is looking all over for his girlfriend Kaede but can't find her. So he goes to Kyoko's room to ask her if she knows where she is. She declines knowing where she is but if he looked inside he would see Makoto destroying Kaede as he smacks her huge tits and stretches that pussy.

TW: NTR

"Oh... yeah, that... that would be a stretch... I did see the two of you chatting, that's why I came here..." Shuichi says, rubbing his arms. Gosh darn it, where else can Kaede be? They are probably missing each other a lot, because it has been a few hours since they had a date and she vanished, even her phone isn't giving out any positive responses. He really hopes she isn't hurt or anything!

"No worries." Kirigiri's head is the only thing he sees, as she just barely opened his door. Not an unusual behaviour from the detective, given how privative she is, but today the reason is different. Besides the shirt she hastily put on, her bottoms are not only uncovered... but leaking both her juices and a healthy amount of a white sticky liquid.

Of course, that's cum.

And the man who filled Kirigiri with his cum is behind her bed, hidden from view, as he pushes Kaede's head down too, smacking her around, the noises barely audible as he is holding back while fucking the girl that Shuichi is looking for. Makoto had no idea she had a date with the boy today, he was just looking to have some fun with Kirigiri and finding Kaede there with the detective was a surprise. A welcome surprise, but a surprise nonetheless.

He can feel the slutty pianist growing tighter, bitting down at her own hands. The whore's getting off listening to her boyfriend. Not the first time Makoto has fucked a girl with their boyfriends was nearby but it's the first time with Kaede. He pulls his hips backwards, trusting down, loving how Kaede is torn now. Both from the pleasure he is giving her and has been giving her for these past hours, and from being so close to her beloved boyfriend.

"It's alright then..." Shuichi rubs the back of his head. "I'll look around for her some more!" He says, nodding, as Kyoko closes the door, with a sigh. She just walks to the back, now with the door closed Makoto and Kaede can be as loud as they wish - thank god for soundproofing - as she just grabs Kaede's phone, to send a message to Shuichi. She uses her ahegao face to unlock the mobile, trying to focus as Makoto decides it's a good idea to spank her as she types.

Soon enough, Shuichi gets a message just saying that she needed to leave campus for a recording deal, and she'd be back at night. He grins, so happy with that response! Now that he knows she isn't in danger he can relax. Sheesh, there are many bad things in this world, she needs to be careful. He just types in a 'good luck babe, have fun <3' and closes the phone.

Oh, she is having fun. A lot of fun, as she orgasms once more around Makoto's cock, milking another load of his. She is having a lot of fun.

[auroragehenna]

No matter how much you squirm you won‘t get out ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AI-less Whumptober

Day 13 (Words carved into skin)

TW/CW: Deranged whumper vision, creepy whumper, pet whump, defiant whumpee-trying at least, scared whumpee, sadistic whumper, intimate whumper, carving, owning, cconditioned pet whumpees, magical whump, electrocution, lady whump Word count: 2'031

When Harmonia woke up, she did not expect to see Electra wait for her. Sitting on an armchair next to her at the fireplace. Where the fuck did that Ash bather get that chair now?! She quickly sat up, wings flapping a bit. "What are you doing here? So early.”, she asked.

Electra raised an eyebrow.

“I mean-good morning, Ma’am. ", Harmonia quickly corrected her mistake.

Electra smiled. "Well, I am here to sweeten up your morning and I have some good news for you."

"What are they, Ma'am?" Did I finally make it?!

“You're allowed to eat in the cafeteria with the other dolls. For good behaviour!" she replied, still smiling.

“Really? Thank you, Ma'am!" Stupid idiot.

Electra got up and waited for her angel to prepare herself and follow her outside. She led her through the labyrinth of hallways in the mansion until they arrived at a big double door. Two guards were placed on either side. “Now, go inside. Eat. And then wait for me afterwards. Don’t cause me any trouble. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Thank you.”

Electra nodded contently and walked away while the guards opened the door.

Harmonia walked a few steps into the gigantic room until her brain could finally process what her eyes were seeing. Her legs gave in under her and she fell to her knees. There were rows and rows of creatures. Tables filled with them. Barely any empty seats. She couldn’t even clearly see the end of the hall. I never knew there were so many… But before more despair could sink in she was pushed hard into the small of her back by a guard. She had to keep moving. As if in trance she got up, went to get her food-and it looked way better than what she had eaten so far-and searched for an empty seat. Finally she found one towards the end of the hall. Harmonia sat down on the wooden seat and was glad that her legs carried her this far. She felt sick but she knew she needed to eat. Otherwise she would only regret it later.

Next to her was a boy that looked like he was a fae. With short, fluffy hair and elegant clothes. Opposite of her were a centaur laying on a special furniture and a girl that looked like she was a cupid. Or had been a cupid. But definitely an angel.

Harmonia gulped. She scanned the girl’s red hair and her pink dress uniform. Her white wings were smaller than Harmonia’s but way fluffier. She eventually noticed something was off, looked up and met her gaze. She looked terrified and instantly ripped her gaze away.

“You should really eat.”, the fae boy said. “There’s not so much time and you’re already late.”

That’s not wrong, she thought. “Thanks. You’re right.”

The three were loosely holding conversation while Harmonia was eating. They were talking about what they would do today. The fae boy wanted to go outside. Cupid wanted to talk to the others if she could. Specifically to one in particular and the centaur just wanted to lay near the fire, their once broken legs were aching badly today. But they all said the same thing. As long as Electra didn’t need them.

“Aren’t you tired of this?! How can you just accept that that’s all there is? She’s a monster! How can you be okay with that?!”, Harmonia interrupted them with silent urgency.

“Be okay with it? We love her. And she loves us. She’s given us everything. You’ll see.”, Cupid said.

“But you can’t say things like that!”, the centaur said.

“It’s rude. And mean.”, Fae-boy added.

Harmonia was just sitting there in shock but she didn’t want to give up yet. “She tortured you!! Kidnapped you from your old lives and imprisoned you! When was the last time any of you-“

“Quiet!”, Cupid now said sternly. “You’re talking non-sense. And I don’t want to get into trouble only because you’re in denial! The world outside has hurt you but trust me she can make it better. She will make you right.”

Harmonia just sat there, staring at her emptied plate, and trying not to throw up. Then a loud bell sounded and instantly all the creatures around her got up and walked orderly out of the hall. Harmonia followed, again as if in trance until she was held back by the guards.

“You wait here.”

Harmonia rolled her eyes, but she didn’t have to wait very long.

«So? How did it go?" asked the demoness's cold voice from behind Harmonia. She quickly spun around, bowing her head. "It was a very interesting experience, Ma'am, thank you. Electra raised her eyebrows. "So, you had no trouble whatsoever?" she asked again. "I mean the food was something I have never eaten before, and probably something you wouldn't find in Paradisio.-But it was tasty!" Electra took a fast step forward and slapped Harmonia hard across the face. Harmonia's head flew to the side and as the sound echoed in the hallway. She felt the painful sting of the slap paired with a faint needles and pins of electricity. "You're lying to me, doll.", she warned coldly.

"N-No." Harmonia tried.

"Oh please, don't try to make yourself sadder than you are."

Harmonia sent her a hateful glare through the fear that had settled deep in her bones by now.

"Did you really think I didn't know that you would try to turn my dolls against me? Did you really think I trusted you enough to let you out? No, you haven't yet seen the right way, and this was a test to prove it to me and to yourself. Now come along. I am gracious enough to still help you. And we will also have to punish your disobedience, am I right?"

"Bullshit!", Harmonia cussed out.

"You can either come willingly or I can make you, your choice."

"Okay, okay.. ..I'm coming…"

Electra led her through the labyrinth of hallways until they somehow arrived at a familiar wide staircase. Honestly how was her orientation in this mansion so bad?! Yes, she hadn't been let outside of her room much but still. This couldn't be right. Carefully, afraid of overstepping a boundary she reached out and let her white skin grace over the marble of the railing. It felt so familiar. An ache flared up in her heart and she had to hold back tears. "Fuck, I wanna go home.", she whispered to herself.

Electra's gaze quickly shot back to where Harmonia was walking. She had heard the girl's comment and as much as it angered her, she could make use of this yet.

After a few minutes the two arrived before a dark wooden door. It wasn't Electra's bedroom that's for sure. That door looked different. The door now opened after Electra had laid her hand on it. She stepped to the side and made a gesture for her to walk first.

"After you, my doll."

Harmonia suppressed the urge to roll her eyes and walked into the dim room. It had no windows, but a large number of spotlights illuminated the room. Now she could see that the walls were over and over covered with portraits. There must be pictures of thousands of creatures, she guessed by the length of this gallery. There were little plackets with text under each picture. Harmonia read one under the picture of what looked like a night elf or something. There was the date when she was kidnapped and how, the date in which she became...obedient and date of death.

Electra kept silent, just watching her doll. She could see the horror on her face. It was beautiful and she was excited at the thought of getting to see more of it very soon. Her angel looked down the hall and her wings twitched nervously. Then she looked up. Electra guessed that she was trying to calculate the number of slaves she owns and had owned. Then her doll slowly turned around, wings spreading out threateningly. "Yes? Speak your mind.", she encouraged her.

“You’re a monster. How can you do this? What is wrong with you?!”

Electra just chuckled humourlessly. “I thought I made clear that you shouldn’t call me that last time, my doll. Did I not?”

Harmonia shivered but she didn’t let go. “These are all people! They have their own lives! You-You’re-They don’t love you! They’re just scared!”

“Yes. Criminals”, she drawled the word out. “They were all on a misguided path. Unhappy says the fucking criminal herself, hypocritical bitch I took them in and gave them a better life. And all I ask for in return for saving them is a bit of devotion and obedience. That is not too much to ask for. Soon enough you will see it too.”. She stepped forward to Harmonia, from the flick of her finger a fine line of electricity shot towards her angels left wing. She instantly pulled them in in pain and her demeanour significantly lost fire. Electra gently but firmly grabbed her shoulders and led her forward to the end of the gallery. There were some newer looking portraits and Electra guided her angel to one particular portrait.

Harmonia’s breath caught as she recognized who was on the picture. It was her! It was a picture from when she was still with her family. Filled with dread she forced her gaze lower, onto the metal plaquette. There was the date of her capture-her failed mission. There was no date of death yet. And at the date of obedience-Harmonia froze, dread settling itself in her so overwhelmingly powerful that she couldn’t sense anything else.

Date of obedience: Soon…

“So? Have you seen enough?”, Electra murmured next to her doll’s ear, nuzzling her head into her fluffy hair. I really hate to do this to you but I need to make sure my message settles in. I can’t stand seeing you suffer for so long. She pulled a blade out of the folds of her clothing and with ease let it magically pass though the layers of clothing. As soon as she felt the tip of the knife touch skin she heard Harmonia whimper. A silent, barely audible, beautiful sound. She began to carve, line for line, using her magic to cauterize the wounds instantly. With another flick of her hand she projected a mirrored image in front of Harmonia’s face, so she could see what she was working on. But her angel struggled and nearly made her mess up. “Stop!-Moving so much! I might hurt you.”, she warned and was pleased to feel her doll’s resistance die. She finished the circle around her work and felt the old-known feeling confirm that she did everything right. “This.”, she said slowly, simultaneously craving the word on the line of her spine upwards, between her wings. “Is.”, another whimper from Harmonia, “Home.”, she finished and stepped back to admire her work. Her sigil and three words lining herself up over her back. Electra heard a broken sob coming from Harmonia. She gently turned her angel around, cupping her doll’s cheek, wiping away a tear. “Hey, I’m sorry my dear, I don’t want to hurt you, I’m only trying to help. So you don’t plague yourself. As soon as you understand that you will be happy. Truly happy. Come here.”, she said and hugged her angel, careful not to touch the wounds on her back.

Harmonia started sobbing in the demoness’ arms, she didn’t want to but there was no stopping it. She barely realized that they were leaving the room, walking with her head buried in Electra’s clothing and the demoness’ arm wrapped around her. She only faintly realized that they sat on a bed and her hands were pulled up and chained to a bed post. She felt Electra’s arms wrap around her again and the softness of the bed and allowed herself to just cry.

Electra held her angel tightly and the last thing her maids saw of her before they closed the door was the triumphant sadistic grin laying on her face.

Taglist: @yourlocalgaefae33, @princessofhe11, @greatkittencloud, @bisexuawolfsalt, @ailesswhumptober Series introductory post

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

remembered that one thing cc!tommy said when talking about the finale where he raised the question about whether c!dream planned it or not and this appeared on my notes app suddenly. help.

TWs: abuse, infantilisation, codependency, isolation, possessive behaviour, victim blaming, manipulation, c!Dream’s perspective is it’s own warning tbh.

—

“dream?”

tommy's eyes were adorably wide, his face innocent and curious. so dependent. helpless, apart from dream's mercy.

prime, he couldn’t thank xd enough for this. it was perfect.

“yes, my little bug?”

“i, uh…” tommy took a nervous glance to the floor, fiddling with the white hair on his fringe. seeing tommy with all those scars, every one proof of the fun the two of them had done together, yet completely oblivious to any of it, was so amusing it was hard to not laugh sometimes. “you remember when we met? and, uh, the other boy, the one with the horns.”

huh. hearing that stupid fucking ram mentioned still filled him with utter rage. he'd ruined everything, hadn’t he? and it couldn’t have been tommy's fault. kind, sweet tommy, who'd been the only one to reach an olive branch, who'd been the only one to realise he was simply misguided and never wrong even to the last. he had to have been manipulated, forced. the idea of anyone hurting tommy like that, just to get at him, filled him with pure, blind rage.

at least when he hurt tommy it was always for their own good.

he forced his tone to be level. “what about him?”

“i want to go and meet him again, maybe? i went out, and i found his base is super close to ours, so i was thinkin', maybe the two of us could go and-“

tommy yelped in surprise as dream slapped him. it wasn’t anything harsh, not enough to do more than sting a bit, but the hurt in his eyes was an almost comical overreaction. of course, though, it was the first time he'd hit tommy since the incident. he'd get used to it, if he kept misbehaving.

“oi! what the fuck, man? i- i- why did you hit me?” tommy sniffled. good to know he was always a little drama queen. how fascinating. “dream, i thought you- i thought you wanted to be my friend…”

“shh, shh. tommy, of course i want to be your friend. you’re almost like a little brother to me, remember? and that means i have to keep you safe. even with tough love.” dream smiled, gently reaching out to ruffle tommy's hair, revelling in the adorably confused look on his face. “it’s normal, tommy. this is how all friends act, remember?”

“oh.” tommy sounded utterly ashamed. “i- i didn’t fuckin' know, man. it just… it doesn’t feel right. it feels all like- like it makes my stomach turn all wiggly and throat all burny. like i'm getting a fever or sommat.”

“and that’s why you need me, right?” dream beckoned tommy over- his tommy, his sweet, helpless little brother, his to protect, his to watch over. if the rest of the server would reject his gentle hand, he could at least take care of one person. maybe he wasn’t useless. wrapping his arms around tommy, he let the boy cry into his shoulders. seeing tommy so unguarded was proof he was helping, right? “i know you can’t remember much, little bug. i can remember it all for you.”

tommy continued to throw himself a pity party for a bit, before pulling away, still sniffling. “i- i know you’re right, man, you always are, dream. always. but why can’t we meet him?” oh so innocent. so naive. it broke dream's heart, sometimes.

“tommy, the outside world is dangerous. it'll chew you up and spit you out. it'll change you, from the brother i love into a scared little shell. it'll convince you to hate everything that keeps you safe, to misbehave. it'll tell you you need to hide your kindness behind a shield, that you need to be angry and aggressive and hide everything you love. it’s safer here, where i'll never judge you or hurt you, right?”

tommy raised a hand to his cheek, furrowing his brow. “but…” he sighed. “alright, dream. but if you’re lying about this, i'm gonna fuckin' kill you.”

oh, if only he knew. “of course, tommy. i'd never lie to you, would i?”

tommy lowered his head, obviously ashamed of himself for questioning dream. good. he was learning. “course you wouldn’t. sorry, man.”

“oh, tommy. if only you knew what i've been through to keep you safe.”

[its-my-whump]

Whumpril2023 – Day 29

Surrender - Punishment - "Final warning."

Sequel of Andys story and suffering going on - previous (Day 27)

TWs: blood, screaming in pain, aftermath of torture

All of a sudden a big commotion took its course. The P.E. teacher Mr. Walker, instructed different students to call an ambulance and the police, to get the school nurse and clear the locker room. “If I see one of you, using your phone for something other than to call for help, all of you are going to detention for the next year. Do I make myself clear!”

Andys skin was clammy and cool. His heartbeat steady, but he was still unconscious. Peter and some other kids had turned him, so he was laying on his side by now, a sweater under his head. To lay him on his back was out of the question, but staying on his stomach could have complicated his breathing. Little pools of blood had already summoned on the floor. His originally white undershirt looked like a requisite from a horror movie.

The nurse wasn't anywhere to find, a student put his head through the door to the locker room, to inform, then closed it again. Gladly the ambulance had arrived this very moment and paramedics were making their way down the hall. A cluster of agitated and distressed kids leading their way.

Everyone still in the room making way for the medics to work. Beside Mr. Walker, Peter and 2 other students were left to help and assist in any way they could.

“Dear Jesus, Mary and Joseph. What the hell happened to him?” The smaller one of the newly arrived spit out, while he was already on his knees taking Andys pulse.

Peter was mumbling, he had such a bad conscience, for pushing him against the wall. He knew he didn't inflict any of the wounds, but he guessed that his behaviour had made his condition much worse, then it had been before. “He already looked like shit and really pale, when he came in here. After taking of his shirt, he just collapsed.”

“Damn. What's his name?” The other paramedic asked and was told by all 3 students in unison. “Andy, can you here me?” He was gently rubbing the boys sternum. An oximeter was put on his index finger, after the blood pressure monitor was pulled over his limb arm from the other colleague.

2 officers entered the locker room, murmur from the hallway accompanied their entry, and was locked out again, the second, the door was shut behind them.

The boys eye lids were fluttering woken by the hand on his chest. He only managed to open them slightly. An undecipherable silent, definitely painful, sound escaped his hardly parted lips. “We're going to cut your shirt open. Alright? It's going to be unpleasant.”

He gave his colleague, who was kneeling behind the patients' back, a slight nod.

Police were already talking to Mr. Walker, so the sound of scissors cutting through cotton and Andys silent whimpering sounds perished into the ambient noise. The cut was finished, but the medic needed to fold the fabric back to have a look at the extend of the disaster.

The taller man on Andys frontside signalled his partner to stop. “You. What's your name?” A finger pointing in his direction. “Peter.” “Okay, Peter. I need your help.”

On unsteady legs the big guy encircled the bloody heap on the floor and kneeled beside the man who had asked for him. Desperate glazy eyes full of pain were trying to focus on Peter from the floor. He wanted to look away, Andys look was piercing his core. Peter felt so shitty and his own heart sank into his stomach.

He was instructed what to do and could only nod for an answer. 3 pairs of hands working on the kid now. While the small guy started to pull the fabric away from the wounds, which was already stuck to some of the cuts, his colleague took a strong hold onto Andys shoulder and fixated him on the ground. Peter gave support by holding the kids hands and squeezing them slightly to encourage him to do the same, when the pain was getting too much. This handling was more than necessary, because the moment the first guy started to pull on the cotton, an animalistic cry of pain ran through the room. Peters fingers felt like being trapped in a bench vice. He didn't wanna imagine what the kid must be feeling right now.

Andy tried to escape, his whole body fighting against them in pure agony and desperation. Peter could hold the kids look only just so slight. He felt his own eyes watering while big tear drops streamed down the other boys face. Andys gaze confirmed, his mind wasn't completely here, he wasn't completely conscious, but unfortunately it was enough to suffer. Sweat dropped down his head, which he was hitting on the cool flagging, the sweater had already been pushed away by his struggling movements.

His breath was ragged, every fibre of his body fighting, still he tried to speak. “Please stop! Stop punishing me, Dad. Please. Sto..” He wasn't getting enough air into his lungs, his words hardly understandable. Peter put one of his hands under Andys cheek, to prevent him from injuring himself in his fight, while his other was still tightly holding onto the boys hands, which were hardly squeezing back by now. His own chest hurt, just by watching Andy resisting in despair.

“Almost done.” The guy on the other side tried to encourage. But Andy was shaking even more so. His cries started to die down into desperate whimpers and more pleading, his strength just vanishing. “Stoooppp.”

The kid struggled a last time. Peter saw Andys eyes rolling back, leaving only white, but his lids stayed slightly open. All tension had left his body. The weight of his head suddenly pushing down on Peters hand, while the grab to his other hand loosened. His whole body went slack.

The big guy beside Peter was panting, while he himself was still trying to swallow the big lump in his throat and the smaller of the paramedics stated plainly. “Unlucky bastard, to make it till the end. Just to pass out, when the worst is over.”

[lunaflvms]

im still here idiot. calling someone a donkey isnt even racist. but idc if i am bc im always racist so like idc. hyunjin is ugly for starters, his eyes r legit slanted as hell, his nose is huge, and he looks like a ghost. that why he eat cat and dog lmaoooo ur so dumb liek gosh no one even like you bye

WHAT THE FUCKKKK yes it is bye i wanna see what u look like if hyunjins ugly cuz u gotta be so pretty but i doubt cuz ur personality sucks ass, anyways WHITE BOY BEHAVIOUR!!! 😱🤢 no one cares if his eyes are "slanted" or if his nose is "huge" (they arent) because at the end of the day people still find him pretty because he is. mann ur so ugh cats and dogs seriously? bye ur so fucking ridiculous and im dumb? nawhhh what is this, are u not seeing urself, embarrassing fr like are you not embarrassed? no one likes me? ok start talking when you get ur bitchass off anon

[jwirecs]

Recommended BTS Fics of August 2022💖

hello, hello! here are my bts recs of august! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝

** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **

🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite

The Dimple Theory || @e-cm​🔞💕💔✅

↳ You’re in your final year at university. You almost have your dream graduate job. If only your arch nemesis, Kim Namjoon, wasn’t applying for the same job at the same firm…

The Millionaire and His Lover || @gukyi​​​ 🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ over the course of your lifelong friendship with jungkook, you can’t say that you’ve ever had the greatest ideas, and a fake relationship with the boy you’ve been in love with for years is no exception.

Please Love Me || @ahundredtimesover​ 🔞💕💔✅

↳ As the only unmarried Jeon and Kim children, your families propose a union to symbolize your unbreakable bond that spans generations. But despite developing an affection for Jungkook growing up, he never returned it; he never seemed to like you, actually. You’re okay with the proposal, but surprise surprise, he isn’t.

Stand By Me || @jeonsweetheart​​​💕💔✅💯💯💯

↳ anonymous requested: “could you do some min yoongi fluff with stand by me by ben e king?” (not really childhood friends to lovers but you know i’d like to imagine it to be)

White Lies || @noteguk​​​ 🔞💕💔✅

↳ in which Jungkook lies his way out of and into trouble. But he can’t tell white lies when it comes to you.

About You || @magicshopaholic​​​💕💔✅

↳ There's something Namjoon isn't telling you. After finally getting out of him, though, you find yourself wishing you'd never asked. (TW topics)

As It Was || @zehakoo​​​💕💔✅

↳ you and your husband have constantly been arguing due to the change in his behaviour and you start to wonder where it all went wrong.

Can’t Help It, I Love You || @kookslastbutton​​​ 🔞💕✅💯

↳ Finally getting a day off, your boyfriend takes you out on a date. Everything is sickeningly sweet until you visit a cute little lingerie store. All he wants to do now is get busy in the dressing room.

Don’t Leave Yet || @kookslastbutton​​​🔞💕✅

↳ "Shh baby,” he breathes against your lips. “Focus on us right now.” or Jungkook doesn’t want you to leave for work so soon. Especially since it’s your birthday

Charade || @ughcore​🔞💕💔🔄

↳ “Why would you help me? What are you gonna get out of this?” Taehyung looks you up and down, the humour twinkling in his eyes like the fairy lights he helped you hang above the TV. He tucks his hands into his armpits, assessing you for a few more moments that leave your skin hot and itchy. “It’ll be nice to see you out of those fuzzy slippers for once,” The double entendre lacing his words is nothing new. The tingles in your stomach, however? Yeah, those are brand new.”

Calico || @horanghaejamjam​​​ 🔞💕💔🔄💯💯

↳ Now that he is a successful business owner and financially stable, Yoongi felt it was finally time to welcome a hybrid into his home. What he didn’t expect, was a chance meeting with the young calico that would steal his heart.

Kitty Thief || @yoon2jk​​​💕✅

↳ Jeon Jungkook was a meticulous man with a specific love for hoodies. So imagine his shock and anger when he finds out that his cute little neighbor is stealing his hoodies.

Pawn to King || @outrohxte​​​ 🔞💕💔✅

↳ wanting her own son to take the throne, jimin's stepmother marries him off to the ruthless human queen of a far away kingdom, said to despise the existence of hybrids. what she didn't expect was for the tables to turn so drastically - her hopeless pawn coming back as a king, to rightfully claim his throne.

Playful || @chimyoung​​​💕💔✅💯💯

↳ requested scenario: “Hello hello I wanted to praise you on your Secure Yoongi fic! It was the best! Also wanted to ask if you could do an imagine with a hybrid reader, She’s a fox hybrid and very mischievous and loves to play pranks. Taehyung is her owner/boyfriend. One day she decides to prank the boys and it goes a bit too far and Taehyung yells at her and for a few days she doesn’t act like her normal self, shes become very quiet and then he goes to apologise and fluff ensues?? ☺️☺️”

Who You Are || @ausblack​​​💕💔✅💯

↳ requested scenarios: “For the hybrid plot you asked for, usually they make the reader go near or live by the woods & meets wolf hybrid namjoon. Instead, you can write about wolf hybrid namjoon going to live in the city for the 1st time to study for uni & meets the reader who’s actually a bear hybrid or such but takes suppressants to hide her scent & disguises her bear ears with cute beanies or hats like a beret. Idk why but I find that cute. He starts to have interest in finding out more about her but she’s vague af.”

BTS Mafia Reaction || @dreamescapeswriting​​​💕💔✅💯

↳ You’re Not Financially Stable

Enemy || @bonny-kookoo​​​ 🔞💕💔🔄💯

↳ The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Or alternatively: Jungkook has no idea what to do with you.

Gotcha || @sweetestofchaos​​​💕✅💯

↳ After a few days without their daughter, Namjoon’s wife decides to surprise him

Keeping Up With The Kims. || @strawberriescherrieskiwi​​​💕✅

↳ So here is Namjoon and his little family on his daughter’s 3rd birthday.

One Summer In Paris || @dreamescapeswriting​​​ 🔞💕💔✅

↳ Jeon Jungkook had always loved Paris with its amazing views, incredible museums and the small Bookshop right across from the Effiel Tower. It was were he spent a lot of his summer breaks as a kid so he loved it well into his adulthood. There was one bookshop he rented a room in the summer that changed his life. It was a place where he felt happy and at peace whenever he had the chance to stay there. Where he fell in love for the first time and had his first heartbreak, a lot of firsts for him were in Paris. But what happens when he goes back to the same book shop four years later and finds the love of his life in the arms of another with a daughter who looks suspiciously like him…

The One With The Bows || @yoon2k​​​💕✅💯💯

↳ yoongi’s hair is getting too long, and he’s constantly having to push it out of his face. Luckily, his daughter just bought a new set of hair ties from Claire’s and is dying to use them. (STOP THIS IS SO CUTE)

Daisies || @silverlightqueen​​​ 🔞💕💔✅

↳ You’ve had a long-running feud with fellow idol Park Jimin, saving all the anger and bitterness for the yearly award shows and shooting each other a few dirty looks, not bowing when you walk past each other, or just generally throwing shade. After one particularly obvious encounter between the two of you, the fans start to notice, just in time for The Rose Tour!

Empty Apartment || @jjkscafe​​​💕💔✅

↳ in which y/n moves in with jungkook who just so happens to “forget” to tell her his apartment is highkey haunted

Realize || @theiris-storyvault​​​💕💔✅💯

↳ What happens when you start to fall in love with your son's best friend's father?

All Roads Lead Back To You || @raplinesmoon​​​ 🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ Namjoon doesn’t remember the moment he went from a powerful business tycoon to little more than an aimless wanderer. Tired of the path his life is going on, he boards a train, not knowing where it’ll lead him. What he doesn’t expect is to meet you on board, the girl that would change his life forever.

Broken Bottles || @xpeachesncream​🔞💕💔🔄💯 (ON HOLD)

↳ fed up with the fact that trouble seems to follow his son everywhere and his lack of motivation to do better for himself, taehyung’s father asks his dearest friend to help him land a job at his company. he promises taehyung will be on his best behavior and that he will do what it takes to get the job done properly. and sure, taehyung believes he can pull through with no issues. however, when he finds out that he’s paired up to work with you, the CEO’s daughter and VP of their skincare brand, he realizes that it’s not as easy as he thought it would be.

The Love After || @ahundredtimesover​​​​🔞💕💔✅

↳ Every werewolf has a fate, interpreted by Amma and guided by the Moon. In this world, there are 2 Supreme Fates fully determined by Her - serve in the Wolf Warrior Clan or find your True Mate. You and Jungkook have neither. You both lost the loves of your lives to live out their Supreme Fates and it’s why you both hold resentment towards the mating system. Until the Ceremony happens and you and Jungkook are fated to each other, connected only by heartbreak, pain, and the long lost belief that you could ever love again.

Do check out all of the other BTS Fics that i have reblogged as well!!

** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **

[sjbattleangel]

@samasmith23, @deir-emmett, @skatermusic, @outofcharacterproductions, @microwave-that-white-boy, @espanolbot2, @fandomsandfeminism People need to know this is not a case "fandom drama" nor am I trying to start any. All I'm trying to say is that in ANY fandom, no matter how well-meaning these people are, this sort of behaviour-especially towards creators-is unacceptable and must be called out.

By personally targeting and attacking creators, these people are creating an atmosphere where bad-faith discourse and outright bullying become normalized and in doing so, other people are more likely to take such harmful misinformation as truth.

Sarah Z excellently explains this (around 16:49) in her "Bad Media Criticism" video where figures such Lily Orchard are able to get away with personally attacking creators like Rebecca Sugar under the smokescreen of "just asking questions" and other excuses.

(TW: Loud shouting at around 17:38)

Public Service Announcement: Please, stay away away from HellYeahHeroes, Ubernegro, Chadfarsight*, KK4EverStuff, and Cohore.

*I'm aware Chadfaresight doesn't speak to HellYeahHeroes anymore but she's still responsible for spewing the very same toxicity.

HellYeahHeroes/HellYeahTeenSuperHeroes, Ubernegro, Chadfarsight, Cohore and others are the most vile, most pettiest, most hateful people who have no right to call themselves "comic fans".

[Trigger warning for screencaps in the links] They will personally target comic writers using hyperbolic, personal attacks on them: Disgusting insults, making horrible assumptions of them like calling them "Hacks" multiple times, along with "Pussys", "eugenists", "homophobes", "perverts", "mysoginysts", "sex offenders", "cowards", "rape apologists", "fascist sympathizers", "Nazi apologists", "dog f***ers", telling them to "lick goats" and more.

The way they talk about writers like Jason Aaron, Jonathan Hickman, Ed Brisson, Matthew Rosenburg, Dan Slott, Donny Cates, Brian Michael Bendis, James Tynion IV, Scott Snyder, Joshua Williamson and others, it's clear that they hate them solely as people. In fact, they have held a deep personal hatred for them WAY before they read any of their works. Yet they will happily mask what is clearly a bloody vendetta against people ,who never harmed them, under a smokescreen of "criticising crappy writing" and wanting their favourite characters "treated with respect".

KK4EverStuff has gone on to send death threats and wish harm upon creators, it's very possible HellYeahHeroes, Ubernegro, Cohore and Chadfarisght have done so too.

Please, report and block them. They are the most hate-filled toxic people to ever exist in the comic fandom.

Eventually, My friend Samasmith23 and I bumped into Majingojira and told him HellYeahHeroes and co.'s behaviour since he is their friend. Because of his more chilled, open-minded attitude, we thought he would listen to us and condemn this behaviour but instead...

...he just kept shifting the goalposts; using whataboutisms: Like "Oh, HYH doesn't talk about comics anymore", "KK isn't a member of our group", "That was old stuff", "he (Samasmith) should hold SJBattleAngel to a similar standard", "Screencaps as ammunition is a C*micsgate tactic" and others.

He then suggested that I "fabricated" the screenshots.

But worst of all?

He made excuses for their abhorrent behaviour towards creators. He dismissed our calls for acountability as "tone-policing", being "puritanical", operating under "Tumblr Morality" ect.

He even excused HYH and co's attacking of comic writers by saying: "Complaining about insults towards creators is rich when creators themselves are generally okay with its existence. Just don't do it to their face."

NO.

Calling for innocent creators to be fired is NEVER "okay"!

Telling them to "lick goats" is NEVER "okay"!

Attacking them as "perverts", "eugenists", "fascism apologists" is NEVER "okay"!

Encouuraging harrasment against them NEVER, NEVER "okay"!

Sending them literal death threats is NEVER, NEVER, NEVER "okay"!

Majingojira turns a blind eye to toxic fan harassment and, by doing so, enables it. Stay away from him.

I've wrote to multiple comic/nerd/fandom blogs on Tumblr, telling them about HellYeahHeroes's and his friend's toxicity; asking them to shame this sort of behaviour. But most never reply back. They probably think I'm some sort of "troll" trying to "start drama". And I don't blame them, HellYeahHeroes, Majingojira, Ubernegro and others are some of the most beloved, well-respected comics/social justice bloggers on this website, I understand looking up to someone thinking they could never do any wrong. I know because I was once one of those people.

You know, this takes a toll on my mental health: Trying to tell people that some of the most revered members of our communities are actually horrible pieces of work, but they don't believe you. It's like being trapped in a room all alone, with no door. You scream the truth at the walls, hoping a door will appear. But it never does, and you're stuck forever with no-one to hear your cries. And it hurts. This pain of never being believed.

I hope you all understand.

I just want our community to be safe and healthy. Please, believe me.