#when we needed him the most he disappeared

[ddodol]

seven minutes — j.sc

series ⭑.ᐟ [ kinktober masterlist ] content warning ⭑.ᐟ smut! minors dni!, sungchan, fem!reader, pet names, seven minutes in heaven, quiet and needy affair, begging, overstimulation (m.), squirting, unprotected sex (seems to be the running theme). word count⭑.ᐟ 1.3k+

“aren’t you glad you’re stuck here with me?”

you glared at sungchan, eliciting light laughter from him when you rolled your eyes. “it’s better to be with someone you know though, right?”

you couldn’t deny that, and it frustrated you even more. going to a different college’s party should’ve been a bad idea, especially if you only went there for one person— someone who wasn’t even there.

sungchan noticed the small pout forming on your lips amidst the minimal light peeking inside the closet. he took up most of the space at the back so you were forced to hug your knees by the closet door, your elbow slightly pushing them open.

”we’re gonna be here for seven minutes, it’ll make your experience better if you at least talk to me.” you hated your options, letting out a deep sigh as you glanced at sungchan. he smiled slightly, eyes disappearing as he leaned over.

”what’s there to talk about? it’s not like we ever had anything in common.”

sungchan exclaimed in protest, poking your leg with his finger, “you don’t even have a good reason to hate me.” he pouted when you didn’t reply, “i’m telling you, anton isn’t interested.”

you groaned, pushing his hand away from you out of frustration. you already knew that but you still wanted to take your chances while you both were single. it’s not like you were in the wrong, constantly hearing about how you didn’t have a chance with your crush would make anyone want to hate sungchan.

you felt something crawling around, eyes darting through the darkness to try and locate what it was. “what’s wrong?” sungchan asked meekly.

”there’s a spider by your shoulder,” you could barely finish your sentence before sungchan threw himself at you— screeching inaudibly as he bent his huge body to pin you against the other side of the closet. you grumbled, desperately trying to push him away.

”fuck off, sungchan! it’s just a spider!” you exclaimed in a hushed tone, beginning to feel flustered when his hand brushed against your chest. “watch it! hands off right now!” you spoke quickly, flailing around as you try to pull his hands away.

your hand slipped, losing grip on your knees which caused you to try and regain your balance by grabbing onto something. you patted your hand around, squeezing the soft thing you managed to place your hand on. sungchan let out a soft moan, body tensing up as he hung his head.

”at least do it properly if you just wanted to touch me,” he grumbled, breathing down your neck. you felt it getting hotter and harder, finally realizing where your hand landed.

sungchan placed a hot kiss on your neck, “please, don’t stop.” you felt your body heating up, hand moving around to palm him through his loose pants. sungchan returned the favor by fondling your tits, whispering how good your hand felt.

his cock began to get more erect, throbbing against your hand as you tried holding it— he was huge, too huge. your hand was barely enough to cover it all but he still melted against your touch.

”fuck, keep doing that.” your legs trembled, pushing them together as your breathing began to get rougher. the closed space you shared became warmer, skin sticking against each other.

sungchan’s other hand began to travel lower, making you shudder. he swallowed thickly, hand trembling as he rubbed your leg. “do you need me, y/n?”

you could feel the warmth of his hand on your leg, hyperaware of the length and thickness of his fingers. you whimpered, head spinning as you thought of having sungchan’s fingers inside you.

”please,” you breathed out, spreading your legs apart to make it easier for him. sungchan’s hand on your leg slithered up to your inner thigh, letting out a small moan when his fingers grazed over your heat. you were glad you wore a dress tonight, albeit for a different reason.

you were completely soaked against your panties, pushing them to the side impatiently as sungchan didn’t hesitate to sink his fingers inside your walls. you moaned softly, trembling at the sudden stimulation. his fingers were barely inside and yet it already felt amazing.

sungchan sucked on your skin, breathing shakily as he began to move his fingers. “baby, i’m still moving my hand. you should do the same,” you bit your lip, squeezing down on his cock.

”sungchan,” you moaned, too dizzy to think or do anything. “fuck, that’s so good,” your voice went higher, still trying your best to moan quietly.

”y/n, wrap your hand around me.” you obeyed, small hand barely wrapped around his still clothed cock. sungchan began to move his hips, moaning against your skin. it was almost amazing how he consistently moved his fingers inside you while thrusting his cock into your hand— it almost felt like a huge waste.

you pushed him back, seeing a flash of confusion on his face. you straddled his legs, busily slipping your panties off and pulling his pants down. sungchan caught on a bit too late, chuckling softly as he held your hips.

there were noises outside just as you held his bare cock in your hand, rubbing his tip against your entrance. sungchan moved quickly, keeping the closet doors closed as he gave you a nod. you giggled when they tried opening the closet you two were in, signaling the end of your little game.

what a shame; you were just getting started.

sungchan kept his eyes on you as your face contorted, letting out adorable moans as you sunk down his cock. you felt incredibly stretched out, thighs already trembling and you weren’t even taking half of him.

”keep going, baby. i know you can take me,” he mumbled, gently pushing you down his cock. you shook your head, quivering as you leaned against his chest.

”you’re too fucking big, sungchan,” you whined, eliciting small giggles from him. he whispered words of praise against your ear, helping you bounce on his cock. “fuck, there,” your hips began to move on their own, desperately trying to replicate the pleasure you felt the first time.

sungchan licked his lips, watching you slowly lose yourself with every bounce. it was a pretty sight, your head thrown back and tits bouncing as you ride him. “just like that, y/n.” you moaned in response, feeling his cock twitch inside you.

”i’m close, baby,” he groaned, gripping tightly on your waist. you ran your hands on his arm, feeling his veins popping up.

you shook your head, “i’m not close yet, sungchan.” you bit your lip, “just do it inside, i still need more.”

”fuck,” sungchan exclaimed, spilling inside you. he jerked up sensitively, moaning breathily when you kept moving your hips. wet noises began to fill the space, his cum sloshing around with every bounce.

sungchan lifted you up, still keeping his cock inside you. you laid uncomfortably against the walls of the closet, thighs split open as sungchan pushed deeper inside you. “oh my god!” you quietly cried out in surprise at how deep he could reach.

he laughed, “i can go deeper, baby. if you let me do this outside the closet, i’ll give you every inch.” you shuddered, head spinning when his cock kept kissing your deepest walls. sungchan was thrusting roughly, playing with your clit as he leaned over.

”cum for me, y/n. make a big mess for me,” he whispered, placing kisses on the top of your head. you gasped, orgasm quickly approaching.

you grabbed on sungchan’s clothes, “fuck, fuck, fuck— sungchan!” you cried out, hitting your head against the wall as you came. you made a huge mess, thighs trembling as you kept squirting everywhere.

sungchan chuckled, stilling inside you as he watched, “you’re so pretty like this, baby.”

as soon as you cooled down, sungchan pulled out, his cum dripping out of you. he peppered small kisses all over your face, prompting you to pull him close. he giggled, holding you as he kept kissing your face.

you stared at him tiredly, playing with his hair, “i’ll take you up on that offer.”

sungchan raised his head, looking at you in confusion. you laughed softly, “take me home right now. i want every inch of you.” he smiled widely, placing a quick kiss on your lips.

”i swear i’ll fuck you so good you won’t be able to think of other men afterwards, baby.”

[darqx]

[It's going down] I'm yelling timber

Several doodles in this one!

❗️For commonly asked qs please see my BTD FAQ

Everything is similar but she wears a dress version.

Yes (after becoming a Royal) but it's more of a "formaility" as he hasn't had any reason to use it yet. There's a lot of gaps since he relies more on mobility than brute force, and he can also rapidly fill in any areas with harder ichor if need be.

He used to work for the previous King as a Collector.

I think it depends, since he's a Royal now they tend to use some variation of their demon signs as an official "signature" so it might look like the first pic. His prior signature might look something like the second (fancy cursive).

Base: [x]

Rire's ichor tentacles are directly controlled by his consciousness/sub-consciousness so yes technically they could do such things XD But that is something that would have happened more when he was a child/learning how to use the ichor powers - he has such fine control now that the likelihood of it happening anymore is negligible.

...you could kiss them if you want I suppose, he does have some feeling through them lol.

I once described Rire's ichor as existing but not existing at the same time (ah, dichotomy haha). Basically if the ichor is not connected to the manifestation point on Rire's back all trace of it will eventually disappear. So that's handy in more ways then one :d

This post goes into more detail about the ichor consistencies:

Rire was born 973 years ago and was primarily raised by his mother after both his father and then later his stepfather died when he was a child/teen.

He would raise a child similarly to how he was raised. 🤔 YMMV whether this would be considered good parenting but he does have affection towards his own parents so there's that.

Well i did draw the baby!BTD in that same picture so...however i drew them as lol XD; Thanks muchly and keep at it!

Yes the years are the same. As stated in my BTD FAQ "I don’t know if you could classify what he feels as “love” in the same definition we are used to…" :d

Short answer: no.

Long answer: if you consider real world biology it would be like this

SOME species of demons are close enough to humans that they could reproduce with them. If the offspring is viable it's usually infertile like a liger (cross between a lion and a tiger) or a mule, though sometimes/rarely it could result in fertile offspring.

This works similarly between different demon species (different ones are more compatible with certain species compared to others etc), though the likelihood of fertile offspring is greater. Also depending on the species some genes are way more dominant so a child might end up basically being more or less one species type.

[An excerpt from a World War letter. Several similar letters have been documented from both Allies and Central/Axis Powers]

My dearest, I witnessed the most peculiar scene several days ago. Honestly I am not sure if it actually happened or if my mind was playing tricks on me. I was on my evening sentry duty over No Man's land when I saw him - a man, standing alone in the fog past the razor wire and amongst those poor souls neither side had managed to retrieve. Dearest, I swear that man had not been there a second ago! At first I thought this was enemy activity, but his uniform was clearly not German and neither was it one of ours - maybe the oddness is what stayed my tongue at the time. Out of a morbid curiosity I watched as he crouched near several bodies for a long moment - perhaps to pay his respects? - before walking off and disappearing out of sight. I am honestly surprised no one had shot at him! The next day there was a large shout as a grievously injured Johnson - whom was lost in No Man's Land after a failed trench raid - was suddenly within reaching distance just over our trench walls! It was a miracle! He was delirious and had no idea how he had made it back by himself, but mentioned a "General" who had offered help in his lowest moment. Clearly he was unwell as there were no Generals around...but dearest...I can't help but wonder --

[Johnson would survive his injuries and go on to become a well decorated soldier before returning home a hero. He would die 10 years later from "idiopathic anaphylaxis" with an odd look of fear on his face.]

I'm not sure why some of you think this but to put it as clearly as I can (since this is not the first time I've been asked this):

Cain is not my character.

I would hope that you guys understand that just because someone doesnt seem to be on the internet anymore it doesnt mean their character is suddenly an adoptable/up for grabs???

No - I have enough of my own characs I dont need to actually steal someone else's. (Also see above answer)

IMO in any universe Rire and Cain are like oil and water. So, i would say yes there is a way that they could get together but it would probably involve kidnapping and criminal confinement on one of their behalfs :d

I never read Warrior Cats so I have no particular thoughts about this lol.

Demon!Strade is a Gatoverse creation XD; - meaning Gato created him and so it has no correlation with my demon types. He would probably be like a level 4 or 5 maybe (aside from being LARGE, idk about his other power sets lol) and a clear case of needing an exorcism :d

Both of them are naturally charismatic (though, Demon!Rire can dial his up to noticeably unnatural levels). Human!Rire can be considered more manipulative and subtle than the demon version since in his 'verse "real world" consequences are actually things he has to consider. He is also a bit less interested in mind games than Demon!Rire.

-...gestures at humans, which he prefers to mess with for the sheer variety of reactions-

That is not part of his skill set, no :d Also much in the same way that animals with sharp teeth don't willy nilly bite their tongues off, demons with sharp teeth are like...used to having/biologically designed to have sharp teeth.

THANKING YOU \o/

It wouldn't lol. Also if i saw Rire IRL i would immediately pretend to have NOT seen him because that would mean that I've somehow had a hand in creating a tulpa.

[holmesianlove]

Chapter 28 -  Mistletoe

“Molly it was lovely of you to invite us,” Sherlock said as he moved past her into the small flat.

Molly had been anticipating a more physical greeting it seemed, as her disappointment crawled across her expression like a summer storm. She then tracked his movements into the flat and over to the punch bowl where he settled himself.

John cleared his throat awkwardly at the door. “Well, I could apologise for him, but you’ve known him longer. You know what he’s like.” He offered her an uncomfortable smile.

Molly turned her head back to acknowledge John and gave him an equally forced smile in return. She looked up instinctively to the mistletoe she had strategically placed above the door. John felt guilty and immediately leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “Merry Christmas, Mol,” he said, as he moved inside. He knew that was not what she wanted. Everyone knew what she wanted. Even at Christmas, Sherlock Holmes couldn’t give people what they wanted most. John knew that all too well, and he felt just as ridiculous for it. 

A few hours later after far too much alcoholic punch and merriment, Sherlock hooked his arm in John’s. “Home,” he simply said, and it was the best thing John had heard all night.

After grappling with goodbyes around the room and coats and gloves - which he had remembered to bring this time - they made it to the door. 

Molly looked up to the door frame again and her expression dropped. When John followed her eyes, the mistletoe was gone entirely.  Even so, John kissed her goodnight and Sherlock even followed suit, thanking her for the party with a kiss on the cheek. John tried not to notice the little pang of jealousy it sparked in him, as Sherlock leaned in and placed those gentle pink lips against her skin. He tried not to notice her hands gripping onto his arms a little firmer than they needed to and staying longer than required. 

“Merry Christmas,” Sherlock said in a low rumble, before turning and disappearing down the stairs. John stood there just long enough to see that the tiny encounter had made Molly’s year. He followed Sherlock out into the snow, the moment still replaying in his mind as they started to walk. 

They travelled a few blocks in silence. It was a comfortable silence though. There was something lovely about the two of them just walking side by side, no words required. At some point, John realised he was walking alone, though. The familiar sound of Sherlock's footsteps in the snow beside him had ceased, his friend had stopped following him and so he turned back. Sherlock was standing in the snow, deep in thought. He looked beautiful. The dark curls and coat against the white backdrop of freshly fallen snow was breathtaking. John was embarrassed to admit to himself just how much those feelings inside him had grown and how, at one point, he had pitied poor Molly and her infatuation, when in fact, he was just as pathetic. Sherlock Holmes didn’t feel things that way. They were both fantasising about a man that would never reciprocate.

“You alright?” he asked. 

“It’s a strange tradition,” Sherlock said.

John padded through the snow back to his flatmate. “What? Christmas?” he asked, mildly amused. “I think you’ll find the Christians disagree.”

“Sorry?” Sherlock looked at John like he’d grown two heads.

“Christmas,” he offered again in reply. 

“Oh. No. Not what I was referring to,” Sherlock replied.

John knew he had partaken in too much punch but he was only now just realising how unsteady Sherlock also looked. He was swaying slightly. And he was definitely up to something. Busy in his own head about it too.

“Shall we just find a cab?” John suggested.

“In a minute." Sherlock was impatient. "John, I wanted to…”

“Hmmm?” John asked, turning back.

Sherlock had pulled from his pocket the little mistletoe bunch with a red velvet ribbon at the top and held it out. His expression was incredibly guilty. 

“Sherlock Holmes!” John exclaimed. He was shocked but the alcohol and the cold air had addled his brain and he laughed, heartily. He moved closer to grab it out of Sherlock’s hand but it was swiftly lifted into the air. 

Sherlock’s expression became very serious and John suddenly felt a stirring in the pit of his stomach which he tried very hard to will away. 

“You stole that, so Molly didn’t achieve her Christmas goal! Kissing her favourite detective!” John scolded.

“Well, no.” He looked at John. “I mean, yes that became a secondary bi-product but that’s not why I…” He hesitated. Despite the alcohol, Sherlock Holmes looked… nervous? “There was a lot of pretty women at the party and I know how you get… with a few drinks, so I thought…”

“You stole Molly’s mistletoe, meant entirely for you, to prevent me from being a drunken letch?” John scoffed, his face heating from the embarrassment he felt at the very idea. 

“No. No John,” he scolded. “If you’d be quiet for two consecutive seconds, I’d explain.”

John went to argue but realised how ridiculous that was so he closed his mouth. He folded his arms across his chest in mild impatience, waiting for Sherlock. 

After finally getting the floor to speak, he nodded and continued. “If this piece of shrubbery - which is a preposterous tradition as I was saying - is supposedly for my benefit, then… I would like to choose who I… use it on,” he said, his voice dropping away slightly as he levelled a quite pointed look… at John.

The power in those eyes made John swallow hard and take a step away. Surely he didn’t mean what John had suddenly got the very real impression he might be trying to mean? This was Sherlock. He didn’t feel things that way… certainly not about John. Did he?

It wasn’t lost on John that the step backwards had then incited a change in Sherlock’s demeanour, either. He felt acutely guilty for it and was about to jump in with a clarifying question, when some drunken revellers exited a nearby apartment building, loudly singing carols.

Before John could even register what was happening, Sherlock had grabbed his arm and dragged him into a side alleyway beside the apartment block, into the shadows to take refuge against the wall. He pulled John with him who had not expected the move. So when Sherlock hit the wall and stopped moving, John couldn’t help but collide with him, trying to get his balance and inciting a grunt from both of them at the collision. 

He pulled himself away slightly. “Sorry. What just…”

But Sherlock had not let go of his arm. He glanced down to see if he was accidentally attached to something, their buttons caught on each other or something, only to find they were linked, because Sherlock’s hand was clasped around his arm firmly. John became confused and was most definitely feeling the alcohol swim around him like a cloud now, clear thought impossible. 

“Sher–“

Sherlock lifted the mistletoe above their heads without a word and leaned in. John’s instinct was to step away again but the move was halted by the firm grip Sherlock's other hand had on his arm. Their lips touched, featherlite and tentative at first. Sherlock was trembling. John could feel it now that he had stilled to absorb the moment. John knew that Sherlock was never cold. He must be terrified! 

John was surprised to find that kissing Sherlock didn’t feel even remotely strange. It felt magnificent. The first little touch had lengthened to a more deliberate though still very gentle and uncertain kiss. But the kind of first kiss a sweeping soundtrack should spring to life to accompany. After all this time, Sherlock had confirmed the one thing John had never been able to believe. No amount of words would have helped him accept it. But that one, gentle kiss completely changed everything. After the brief second of contact, Sherlock dropped his arm, the mistletoe having performed its duty, and made a move to disengage. John bravely made eye contact and he saw something in Sherlock’s eyes he’d never seen before.

Uncertainty. Regret. Embarrassment.

A grin spread across his own face as he realised. Sherlock had stolen the mistletoe, not only so John wouldn’t kiss anyone else tonight or so he himself didn’t have to kiss Molly. He wanted to kiss John! And ensure its success.

“For me?” he asked quietly.

Sherlock nodded, almost imperceptibly. He looked positively frozen to the spot, the shock of actually going through with the task clearly too much for him. His eyes watched desperately for John’s response.

“Not just one of your… experiments?” John checked. 

Sherlock shook his head ever so slightly. He really was terrified. After the last experiment, John wasn’t surprised he was nervous though. John had been pretty mad about being turned green. He reached down, pulled the mistletoe out of Sherlock’s hand and threw it into the snow. 

“You’ve never needed that,” John finally admitted and grabbed Sherlock’s coat to pull him in for a much deeper, much longer kiss. 

This time their lips found a rhythm together. Saliva and heat entangled in a desperate contest to gain purchase with each other, as if this moment was the one thing they both needed after all this time, to confirm all the thoughts they had tortured themselves with. John let go of Sherlock’s collar to reach his arms around and pull him closer.

When John felt Sherlock sink into the kiss and wrap his own arms around John’s back in reply, he couldn’t help the little sigh of relief and joy, knowing he had finally got exactly what he wanted.

And apparently, so had Sherlock Holmes.

Don't worry this month has 31 days! It's not over yet...!

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@therealalexisamess-blog @e-b1838 @rhasima @salmonsown @tropelovingpainter 

@westandforships @fuck-off-watson-rp @notjustamumj @melodious-me @sherlocke3d

@otter-von-bismarck @silvergoldsea @calaisreno

[justmeinadaze]

Not Alone Part 3 (Eddie X You)

A/N: This Y/N is currently me and while out getting snacks I realized I needed to write this into existence. Maybe one day I'll meet a partner like this... If you're spending the holiday by yourself, know you aren't alone <3

Warnings: being alone for the holidays, mentions of grief, Eddie comforting

Word Count: 1056

Eddie Masterlist

Eddie heard it in your voice and saw it in your face when he talked about Christmas with his uncle.

“Yeah, he usually gets the day off so Wayne makes some burgers and we watch A Christmas Story.”

“Aw that sounds like fun!”, you grin as you take in how his face lights up. 

You loved seeing how animated he got when he talked about certain things but when it came to family sometimes his face would drop. He missed his mom and told you that his dad used to ruin the holidays most of the time by being drunk or absent all together. From what he told you, it sounded like Wayne was making up for lost time and new memories that couldn’t be made since his sister-in-law passed. 

“What do you guys do?”

“Oh, uh, my dad used to make a big show of Christmas and make a huge meal. Pull out all the stops.”, you giggle. “He loved giving us presents and seeing us smile.”

“Sounds about right from what you told me.”, he chuckles. “What about now? Do you guys carry on the traditions?”

“Um, yeah absolutely. My mom makes a turkey and we get to together to just talk and watch Christmas movies like you and your uncle.”

Your smile fell ever so slight as your eyes glazed over causing him to reach for your hand. 

“Well, after, if you want to come over and share a burger you absolutely can. You know you’re always welcome over here, sweetheart.”

“Oh, thank you, but I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re never intruding, babe.”

After knocking on your apartment door, he waited, hoping for your sake he read the signs wrong but as the door slowly opened his heart broke. 

“Eddie? H-Hey, baby, what are you doing here?”

Your voice was gravelly telling him immediately you had been crying. 

“Come on.”, he murmured as his hand gestured absently out the door. “Come on. You’re coming with me.”

“Sweetie, I can’t. I don’t want to bother you—” Before you could finish your sentence, he collected you in his arms and began heading towards his van. “Eddie, wait! I’m in my pajamas! I haven’t even done my hair.”

“You still look beautiful to me.”

***

“I can’t put my arms down!”, the little boy in the movie whines eliciting a loud cackle from Wayne as he sips from the beer can in his hand. 

“You know, Y/N, my mother, Eddie’s grandma, used to dress up me and Allen in all those layers like one gust of wind would freakin’ blow us away.”

“Pfft, thankfully my mom didn’t hate me that much.”, Eddie teased as his uncle tossed him a playful glare. 

You laugh as you curl up closer to the metalhead’s side and take a bite of the fry on your plate. 

“Ah commercial. I’m gonna go smoke a cigarette real quick.”, Wayne announced before rising to his feet and disappearing out the door. 

“How are you doing down there? You alright? Need a refill?”, Eddie asks as he cranes his neck to meet your gaze and his fingers brush your hair away from your face. 

“No, I’m alright.”, you smile as you tilt up to kiss his lips. “Thank you for this.”

“No problem. You’re always welcome here, baby. You’re never a bother. I’m going to get that tattooed on you somewhere so you can look at it and always remember.”, he jokes as he pokes your side. 

After you pull back to fully sit up, he does the same knowing you’re about to tell him something you struggle to say. You always pulled away slightly when you felt like you were about to tell him something heavy. He thought maybe it was your physical way of protecting yourself. As if you were expecting him to explode by your news so you wanted to be able to run and be safe. 

Eddie did everything he could to make you feel physically, emotionally, and mentally safe but he understood that sometimes your mind won the internal battle over anything else. 

“I haven’t spent Christmas with my family in years. When my dad died… my family struggled to cope especially my mom. She’s strong willed you know? ‘I don’t need therapy. I’m fine. I can handle it.’ But…every holiday��it’s like she forgets about me. We don’t do anything.  I don’t even get a text or a phone call… Then of course my siblings have their own families with their own traditions and since my mom is in her own head she doesn’t scold them for not even calling either. 

For years, I called or invited myself over…forced the family to spend time together…but these past couple of years…I can’t do it. I want them to think of me first for once. God, that’s so selfish.”, you sigh as you hide behind your hands. 

“No, baby, no it’s not. Hey. Look at me.”, Eddie coos as he lightly pulls at your wrists and reaches out with his fingers to dry some of your tears that had fallen. “It’s not selfish. Like you said, you tried for so many years and it went unnoticed AND unreciprocated. You deserve to have someone put in the same effort you do and then some. Your dad always did, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Come here, sweetheart.” After moving your plates and drinks to the side, he collects you in his arms and holds you tightly to him, rocking you gently back and forth as he pets your head allowing you to cry in his embrace. “Everything’s ok, Y/N. You’re safe with me, babe.”

After a while, your tears stop as you both focus on the tv in front of you and he smiles when you laugh at the boy on the screen. 

“You know I did that once.”

“Eddie, no!”, you tease as you lightly smack his chest.

“Oh, of course. Put my tongue on the pole and it got stuck. No one had to dare me or nothing. I just did it.”

“Oh my god.”

The door slams shut as Wayne wipes his boots on the mat and grins when he sees you in his nephew’s arms before taking a seat back in his chair. 

 “Hey, Ed. Remember your junior year of high school when you stuck your tongue to the pole?”

[alexa-fika]

Would you be up for writing an oneshot with abandoned baby Dokucha being found by the Cross Guild? Croco and Buggy would probably not care too much at the beginning but quickly warm up to them. Mihawk is the doting and responsible daddy. Croco would love to have the little one on his lap when “disciplining” people, especially Buggy, like “how should daddy Buggy be punished today for screwing up again?” before releasing the Bananawanis. Would totally give them a baby Bananawani, who greatly dislikes Buggy. Dokucha would copy Mihawks behaviour and way of being, Mihawk is sitting on the table having breakfast and reading the newspaper, so will they. Buggy is the one funny daddy and who gets them in trouble and doesn’t think much if it’s safe for Dokucha, like taking them to a heist or so. Imagine how darn cute this would be and the three taking care of them!! 😭🥰

Baby’s Judgement ( Crocodile x gn!child!reader! X Mihawk)

A/N Here we go!!! I always day that :/ always be saying im back but then I disappear for two weeks only to repeat🫣 Listen! Time just escaped me din’t even noticed it had been that long, plan was to do in the plane but I just kind a spent the hours staring into nothingness instead. Anyhow, not sure how to feel about this one so let me know what you think. But also do note that this Dokucha got raised by these mean since they were a baby so as such they share the same morally questionable morals the men have.

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for reader in japanese for the enjoyment of both reader and oc character readers

Dividers by @/firefly-graphics and @/drinkthesky

“Croki, where we goin’?” The small toddler wondered as they tried to keep up with the man’s long strides.

“I have something to show you,” he huffed out, pausing slightly so the child could catch up to him. 

“in the arium?”

“Aquarium,” he scoffed out.

“Arium?”

He let out a sigh, picking them up a 

“K,” he sounded, looking at the child.

“K!” 

“Kwe” 

“Kwe,” they parroted

“Aquarium” he finished.

“Arium!” They stated, seemingly proud of their ‘accomplishment.’ 

“You’re hopeless.”

“‘M’ not!”

“Perhaps I should just feed you to the bananawani,” Crocodile mused, a smirk growing on his face as he did

“No!” They cried, hugging his neck tight

“Yes, I’m sure they would enjoy eating a brat for dinner.” 

“Wah!! You’re mean!”

“Kuahaha! That’s how the world works, kid,” he laughed, making his way into the underground layer he had built to keep the giant beasts and any unfortunate soul that he and his associate decided to ‘spare’ from a swift death.

“Relax, those bastards wouldn’t do anything to you even if I told them to; they like you,” he called out once his chuckles had died down as he made his way into the shallow area of the aquarium, eventually giving rise to a section littered with sand and illuminated by a skylight place above the area.

The place allowed the huge reptiles to laze around on dry land if they so wanted to, the sand warmed by the sun above a welcome feeling to the crocodiles.

For the following months, however, this place was far from just a place for them to have their daily dose of vitamin D. Instead, it became a highly coveted place, one that the workers were not able to bypass for their usual duties as the bananawani became incredibly devoted to the care of their very own treasure that they were zealous to, thus the small layer although normally occupied by a few of Crocodile’s most trusted subordinates now lay close to empty.

However, the beasts were willing to make a few exceptions to their no-trespassing rule. The first one was the man himself, not only because Crocodile was the one who offered the crocs all the care they needed but also because the man had a new addition to himself as of late.

“Babies!” Dokucha exclaimed happily, running towards said hatchlings with glee.

It turns out that due to Crocodile establishing his dominance over the reptiles from the beginning, they had not only considered the man an extension of themselves but a superior of sorts. As such, the bananawani never reacted aggressively to his presence, this and the fact that Dokucha now lingered next to him, after all, he was in the same position as them: taking care of a young one.

“Croki, look! They have babies!”

“I know, it’s their mating season,” he mumbled as he placed one of his usual cigars in his mouth, looking as the child prattled on to one of the hatchling’s parents about the babies that littered the area.

“Croki” they called, gaining the attention of the man from the lighter on his hand back to the child as they let out a grunt in response, his eyes not leaving the task of igniting the cigar. 

“Look!”

Satisfied with the spark leaving the cigar and it’s signature cloud of smoke following, he moved his full attention to the toddler, watching as they hauled up a hatchling.

“They didn’t have a mommy or daddy.”

Crocodile let out a hum at their words.

“That one’s parents died a while ago, a sea beast if I remember right”

“Died?”

“Yes.”

“Who will take care of it?” they frowned, hugging them close, letting out tiny giggles as the Crocodile began giving them small nips.

“Just take it with you; I don’t really care,” he dismissed as he turned around, heading to the large table that decorated the center of the room.

Dokucha grinned looking down at the reptile in his hands with a grin.

“I take care of Baby!” they yelled, spinning the wani around with joy, skidding to a stop at the sound of muffled cries.

“Oi, Brat, come here” he called.

“I’m comin!” they cheered, running towards him with the Bananawani held snuggly in their arms as they climbed into the ex-warlords lap.

“You see that man?” he questioned as he gestured to one of the nearby cells.

“Man?” they mimicked, looking up towards the cell, spotting the source of the cries they had heard coming from a man in one of the otherwise empty cells, his cries muffled by a cloth tied around his head.

“Yes, see, the guy thought it would be a good idea to try and sell us out to the Marines,” he mumbled, a dark smirk growing on his face as he whispered the words to the child, ensuring that his voice remained loud enough for the terrified man to hear.

“What should I do with him?”

“Do with him?”

“Yes, should I feed him to the bananaWanis?” he suggested, his smirk widening at the rise in cries coming from the cells at the suggestion.

“No!” they protested with a pout looking up at Crocodile, much to the relief of the defected pirate.

“That would give the Wani’s a tummy ache!”

“Is that so? What should I do then?”

Dokucha shrugged, playing with the baby bananawani on their lap with a smile.

“Sand?”

The man’s relief previous relief at the thought of being spared dissipated into terror at the pirate’s following words

“Ah, that’s right. You said you wanted more sand for your sandbox, right?’”

“Mmhm”

“Well then, looks like your fates decided,” Crocodile cackled as he activated his devil-fruit

“Kai!”

“There you are; I was looking for you, “Mihawk called, watching them run into the room he sat on, gingerly placing the wine on a nearby table to accept the child jumping towards him.

“What were you doing?” he questioned, positioning them in this lap so he could balance both them and his glass of wine.

“Croki was turning a mean man into sand!” they piped up, raising what looked to be a small sippy cup in excitement.

“Ah. so he finally got rid of that pest,” he stated

“Yeah, and look!” they yelled, pulling out a small satchel from their side and grinning as the bananwani promptly jumped out as soon as they opened the satchel, letting out small chirps as they climbed into their lap.

“I have a baby!”

“Please do tell me why that is a good idea,” Mihawk called, looking over the child’s shoulders.

“I see no harm in them taking care of it; he can watch out for the brat, they can be nasty things even as hatchlings” Crocodile’s voice rings out as he enters the room, taking his place next to MIhawk.

“Besides, they seem to hate the clown as well, and he has been getting too comfortable around the brat lately,” he grunted.

The swordsman lets out a thoughtful hum at the word, seemingly mulling over the idea the devil user had given.

“I doubt a hatchling will be enough to stop that fool from trying to take them away; some lessons just need to be taught personally,” he called, taking a sip from his drink. He raised an eyebrow as the child next to them seemed to imitate his hand’s placement with their own cup.

He gave a small roll of his eyes as he put the wine down as he stood up, picking up the child who was quick to drop his cup in favor of grabbing the bananawani as they were lifted.

“Regardless, it is time for the child to go to bed, so I bid you farewell, for now; I trust I can leave the clown to you?” Mihawk called, looking at Crocodile

“I will,” he easily answered as he let a wisp of smoke escape him.

“If you want to join, you should hurry; I’m not sure he will be conscious if you take too long.”

“Very well,” he called as he walked away.

“But Kai! I’m not tired!” They whined, trying to get out of the man’s grasp

“Enough,” He sternly admonished

I don’t even know how to label the fic as cause it can’t be cross guild cause buggy is only mentioned but im not sure it really is equally crocodile and Mihawk, I think it’s more Crocodile centered 🤷🏽‍♀️ Also in case theres any confusion the Kai nickname comes from hawkeye, a two year old would hardly pronounce that so its the last vowels that sound the HawKEYE = Kai :D aint that cute?

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@hannahbarberra162

[survivalove]

We know why Aang fell in love with Katara! But what about Katara? Can you give me five reasons why Katara fell in love with Aang? We see her love grow throughout the seasons until she threatens Zuko, willing to kill him for Aang.

ummmm sure! why not?

1. Vulnerability

I think it’s safe to say Katara was infatuated with Aang from day 1. Starting on the basis of him being ‘new’ and later, on him being the literal savior she’d been dreaming of.

But love isn’t based on infatuation. So to me, what made Katara fall in love with Aang was getting to know him as a real person, his strengths and his vulnerabilities. Katara was the only person to whom Aang told the truth about his disappearance and I think that was the start of her falling in love with Aang, the boy, not the Avatar.

2. Unconditional Support

As soon as Aang meets Katara he immediately offers to help make her dream come true with no strings attached. Keep in mind, since her mother passed, Katara had been forced to inherit a motherly role both in her family unit and in her tribe, learning to put others before herself. Then here comes a boy, foreign to this dynamic and is ready to put her dreams above whatever it is he has to do.

I think that would make any girl fall in love especially one in her circumstances. Also helps that Aang is very consistent in supporting Katara, so much so that she expects him to be there for her when she needs him, without asking. This also ties into my 3rd reason.

3. Trust

Katara and Aang are friends first which is very important to their relationship and some may say supersedes their romantic arc. Katara always trusts aang to do the right thing and be a good person, not just towards her but to those in need. We can see with her that this is very important to her in the Jet episode and is in fact a dealbreaker for her when Jet ends up breaking her trust. Aang however, never betrays her. In fact, her trust in him is only rewarded time and time again, so why wouldn’t she fall in love with him?

4. Childhood Hero

Not to contradict my first point but Aang being the Avatar is still kind of an important factor, just not the most important one. The fortuneteller is the first episode where Katara sees Aang in a romantic light and it’s after he defeats a powerful force of nature almost single-handedly. We see that Katara is very pleased when Aunt Wu tells her she will marry someone very powerful and who’s more powerful than the literal Avatar? I think it’s rather natural that Katara would fall in love with the hero she’s been waiting for her whole life, especially when he actually lives up to everything she dreamed he would be and more.

It’s like when you meet your favorite celebrity and they’re actually a nice person which makes you like them even more? In this case, Katara’s favorite celebrity just happens to like her back so

5. Wisdom

Lastly, I think what helped Katara fall in love with Aang is that he is someone she can learn from him and he learns from her as well. They’re both steadfast in their beliefs even when they contrast each other’s. Katara has always shown an interest in spirituality and other cultures and here comes a boy from a time before war who can show her the way things were back then, takes her around the world to explore other cultures that she was never exposed to, validates her belief in spirituality and even better, humbly accepts her as someone she can learn from as well.

i hope this response is satisfactory to you anon 😂

[munsooooon]

car seat

@steddiemicrofic

written for ‘prompt: time’ wc: 485 | rated: m | cw: first time, steve harrington has bad parents, bottom steve harrington, top eddie munson. ✨️

"Steve, love, this is a bad idea."

Steve didn't respond, he unbuttoned Eddie's pants quickly, and with effort he tried to pull them down but Eddie stopped him by kissing his neck but Steve didn't want to stop. Eddie smiled and pulled his hair, Steve moaned and opened his eyes in surprise, only that way he could stop.

"We don't have time, Eddie, I have to get home before my parents notice my absence."

Steve had run away from home, his parents had returned to give a Christmas party that would allow them to show false altruism after the Hawkins earthquake. Steve was fed up, and when his dad sarcastically told him to smile because it was the most wonderful time of the year, he decided he had to run away.

Eddie squeezed Steve's ass, allowing himself to feel it, as if he wanted to imprint the rough feel of the jeans in his hands.

"I'm not going to fuck you in a car seat, it's something we'll do eventually, but your first time with a man" Eddie paused a little and kissed Steve's hand, then placed it on his chest, "our first time together has to be special."

Steve looked at him, surprised with tears in his eyes. No one had ever made him feel so special. He used to make girls' first times special, he treated them gently and made them feel great until they cried with pleasure, that's where his reputation came from but no one had ever cared about him, not even himself, he gave himself to sexuality as a very young man.

"Please," Steve whispered, shifting his body in his boyfriend's lap, "I need you"

"Stevie, don't do this to me," Eddie whispered, savouring Steve's every move, "I'll hurt you."

Steve placed soft kisses all over Eddie's face, enjoying the sensation on his lips and on his body. He leaned close to his ear and whispered:

"You won't. I locked myself in my room before going down to dinner and touched myself thinking of you."

Eddie looked him straight in the eye. Any little self-control he had achieved disappeared in that instant. He quickly unbuttoned Steve's pants and pulled them down, then did the same with his own.

Steve caught his boyfriend's lips, while he introduced a finger at his entrance, Steve gasped with surprise when he felt it, Eddie bit the other boy's lower lip when he felt how open he was.

After a brief preparation Eddie gave him, he introduced his cock inside Steve, who moaned at the intrusion, it sounded as if someone had hit his stomach and in his face Eddie could see the ecstasy he felt.

Eddie wanted to savor it but he knew there was no time to waste, he began to move quickly as Steve chased the sensation by moving his hips.

That was the first time Eddie saw Steve melt with pleasure.

🕸🕸

It's funny but it's also the first time I participated in a challenge in Steddie's fandom or any fandom. I hope you like it, thank you very much if you read it 💗.

[miserymet]

Tragedy - Reploid Bass AU

Was digging through my old WIPs and found this bad boy. It’s technically unfinished (because I didn’t know how to end it) but it gets the main point across and establishes the where the plot is at post MMX7. Thought it might be interesting to those who want more details on the AU.

(quick timeline context; Bass gets his memories back post mmx6, disappears off the face of the earth and shows back up again halfway through mmx7)

Summary: Zero and Bass talk about one of Bass’ many regrets. In the process, Zero tries to connect the brother he knew as Forte to the stranger wearing his face.

“I wasn’t supposed to be here.”

The words are quiet. Not soft, as nothing Zero’s brother does is soft anymore, but they lack the usual bite. It’s enough to draw Zero’s attention to where Bass now sits. 

The chair holding him is old, a mundane relic of the furniture that was commonplace over a hundred years ago. It’s a miracle that it hasn’t crumbled under the weight of its occupant, but Bass had mentioned that the entire base was designed around its mechanical residents. Perhaps its creator imagined one of his robots might need to use a chair. Even if there’s not much of a difference between sitting and standing for them.

Zero’s surprised to see that Bass has his back turned to him. His brother isn’t too keen on letting Zero out of his sight nowadays, but his gaze is firmly fixed upon the screen in front of him now. Another uncharacteristic behavior. Zero sets aside the spare parts he was examining, all interest gone, and approaches the screen that has his brother so transfixed. It casts a dim light even in the darkness of the base, but the image is clear enough.

It’s an old contact log. A few lines of text sit at the bottom of the screen and for some reason, Zero feels the need to read them aloud.

“Bass. I made a mistake. I created something that I can’t control. You’re the only robot strong enough to stop it. Please help me.” He furrows his brow as he speaks the final line. “I’m sorry.”

“Six lines. Twenty six words. A hundred and fifteen characters.” Bass mutters.

“What does it mean?” 

It’s a genuine question, and maybe that’s why Bass laughs as though it’s the stupidest thing he could have asked. Zero waits with bitter patience for his brother to finish. This is typical of Bass’ new personality. Brash, abrasive, rude, all of these words and more fit the new image Zero’s brother has made for himself. Even his name is new. “Bass.” It’s been a bit of an adjustment to say the least.

Eventually, Bass manages to pull himself out of his laughing fit. His next words are the last thing Zero expects to hear.

“These are the words that killed me.”

“…I thought I did that.” Is all Zero can say to that. Bass laughs, much quieter this time.

“In the end, yeah.” His brother leans back in his seat. “But fighting you wasn’t-, I didn’t…”

“You ‘weren’t supposed’ to?” Zero volunteers.

“…I shouldn’t have.”

Bass goes quiet, lost in whatever old memories are haunting him today. Zero can’t help but feel frustrated. He used to know what to do when Bass…when Forte was upset. Whether it was about his lost memories, his weakness, his outdated code, Zero could always help. It’s different now.

Everything’s different now.

“Do you remember what I told you about our creator? How we didn’t really get along?” Bass starts, gaze still stuck on that old log.

“Because of your penchant for rebellion, yes.”

“That was only half of it. Yeah, I disobeyed him whenever I felt like it, but he wasn’t some doting father.” His brother turns to glare at him. “He was the most selfish, stubborn, stupid old man I ever met. Full of himself, too. You would have hated him.”

“That sounds a lot like you.” Zero can’t help the bite to his words. Maybe X was right. Maybe all this is getting to him. “Where are you going with this?”

“I was loyal at first. The old man had a lot of expectations for me, and I was determined to meet them. I didn’t. No matter how hard I tried, how strong I was, it was never going to be good enough if I couldn’t beat-,”

He stops abruptly, almost letting something slip. Something important. Bass is always vague about his old memories. He’s hiding something, but Zero can’t tell if it’s because it’s too risky or because he’s hoarding all that’s left of his past. It could really be either one. Zero isn’t sure he knows Bass all that well anymore.

“The point is, I was a failure to him. So he tried to move on. Build something else.” Bass shakes his head. “I couldn’t accept that. We fought. First it was just arguments, but it escalated. Before I knew it we were trying to kill each other.”

“What did you do?” Zero asks, though he’s not sure he wants to hear the answer.

“I left.”

Oh. Zero wasn’t expecting that.

“It sounds obvious, right?” His brother rests his head against his hand, expression flat. “But I wasn’t a reploid. I didn’t have the programming X or Axl did. It wasn’t as simple as changing my career. I was leaving my creator.”

“Bass…”

He doesn’t let Zero get a word in. “I agonized over it for days. What was I if not his robot? What could I even do without him? I was practically one foot out the door already, but I couldn’t move the other one. I…cared about him.”

Zero tries to imagine it. Bass, in his original body, standing beside a vague figure. His gaze sweeps across the room and Zero sees Bass sitting on a table full of junk, swinging his legs as he speaks to his creator. What did his face look like? Was it flat and cold, speaking in an even tone about plans or progress or whatever a man like that saw fit to discuss with his creation? Or was he annoyed, brow furrowed with one dipping lower than the other and mouth pulled into a small pout? Maybe it was a face Zero had never seen before, a soft smile, a wry grin that so clearly spelled out his amusement. 

He can only imagine. When he turns back to his brother, Bass wears the grimace he’s grown so used to.

“That was how I convinced myself to leave, in the end.” He breathes an empty sigh. “If I stayed, I might have hurt him. Might have let my anger take me to far and…”

His hands move in front of him, digits curled tightly around an invisible enemy. They hang in the air for a moment and shake. Then they fall. Bass lets his head follow them.

“You came back.” Zero speaks softly, trying for a gentleness he’s never been good at. “Why?”

Bass doesn’t pick up his head. “Same reason. I cared.”

“He made a robot, couldn’t control it and called you for help.” It feels both more and less real when he says it aloud. “He called you to your death.”

“And I came. I came because I am a fucking idiot.”

Zero blinks at the harsh language. Bass is far from the composed brother he knew, but even he didn’t use that language regularly. It feels strange. Forte would never, but Bass…it fits him a little more.

“He didn’t even have to apologize. The moment he came to me for help, the moment he called me strong-,” Bass grips his head in his hands. “All my conviction disappeared. I walked into that lab, this lab-!” He throws out his hands, nearly hitting Zero, “and I died for the man that tried to kill me!”

Zero doesn’t know what to say. What can he say? This is something he’s just learned, a grief he can only imagine. Bass has lived with this knowledge since the day he got his memories back. How did he feel, waking up and knowing that he lost everything to a man long gone? How do you live with that burden? How do you keep fighting?

Bass shoots up from his chair, gaze now fixed on Zero. There’s so much behind his eyes that Zero can’t see. A world no one alive has any hope of understanding.

“I was so close to being happy! To having something other than a worthless creator who only tolerated me as long as he could use me!”

His brother takes a step forward, the light of the screen illuminating every tear that falls from his face.

“And he took that from me! You took that from me!”

“I’m sorry-“

Zero sees the punch coming. He almost dodges. It’s what every self-preservation program in him begs him to do. He doesn’t. He takes it. The punch is hard, snapping his head to the side quite painfully. He doesn’t flinch. Not even when Bass’ fist splits the synthetic skin of his cheek. All he does is look back at his brother.

Bass stands there, eyes wide and mouth open. His arm hangs in the air. He can see the grime left on his hands. Can see the tension in every part of his body. Then, it shifts. Bass drops his hand and closes his mouth. That glare returns, fierce as ever.

“Don’t pity me. It’s too late for that.”

Zero tries to find his words. “I don’t-,”

“That hit only landed because you let it.” Bass casts his gaze to the side. “Everything I do to you is because you let me. Even in this body, I’m not strong enough.”

[neodaydreams]

How to disappear - L.DH. [teaser]

Pairing: idol!reader x idol!haechan

Genre: pure angst, suggestive.

Summary: You and Haechan are addicted to the adrenaline of being on stage, but once the show is over, you need to find something else to fill the void. - A tale of the troubled relationship between two child stars that burned too much as they grew up.

Warnings: alcohol consumption, addiction, drug consumption, drug abuse, mental illness, depressive episodes, suicidal thoughts, mommy issues, smoking.

Word count: TBA.

You and Donghyuck were seated across from each other in the bathtub, no words exchanged. Despite what was supposed to be an intimate moment, the complete silence that allowed even the small droplets of water falling to the ground to be heard was uncomfortable.

Your eyes, unable to meet his, looked at the ceiling—the stupid gray ceiling your mom had chosen against your will.

“Is this the life you envisioned when you started this?” you asked, finally breaking the silence, although the tension in the room was still high. Donghyuck's face was still turned in the opposite direction from yours.

“No.” His voice was quiet, broken, very different from the usual Hyuck you and everyone else knew. Even on his most tired days, when he could barely keep his eyes open or move due to the incessant hours of work, you had never seen him so broken down, so visibly defeated that it showed in his every action.

“Why are you here, Hyuck?” The question made him look at you for once. “I have no redeeming qualities other than my face and body, and I know that at this point, that’s not enough to make you stay.” You started to approach him.

“I am not fun, interesting, or smart. I am not a good listener nor comprehensive to other people's struggles. And I’m not a good talker either. I don't bring any joy and if anything, I make you even more miserable than you already are on your own.” Even with the self-deprecating words about yourself and him, you kept the same bored and monotone tone as always, hoping that would encourage Hyuck to do the same, to play pretend with you. But that was not the only thing you hoped for as you wished for Hyuck to give a comforting answer. To hold you in his arms and say something sweet, to assure you that everything was going to be fine with the both of you and the only reason he stayed with you was because he loved you and that was enough.

But Hyuck stayed quiet, confused red eyes looking into yours with a frown on his delicate face.

“Why do we keep insisting on this?” you tried again.

Do you love me? Do I love you?

“I don't know.” His voice was still broken.

[plaidpajamallama]

(You scared me) RHEA RIPLEY X JEY USO

Chapter 22

_________________________________________________

Jey was getting ready to head to his mom's for Christmas. He was putting some gel in his hair, trying to make it do what he wanted.

He was in need of a haircut, but he got busy, so it was a little longer than his liking, but it was going to have to work.

He cursed as he noticed Jimmy calling him.

Wiping one of his hands off on a towel before answering it Sup, uce? What do you want?

Naomi said you were coming, he said with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Yeah, I’m going to be there; you know Ma would kill me if I didn’t. He chuckled. Plus, I got to talk to Roman.

He let out a sigh. He didn’t want to, but he had to; things were getting more serious with Rhea. He needed to tell him.

He heard him and Naomi talking; he rolled his eyes. He should have known she was closer by.

You’re gonna tell him? Naomi said

Yeah, so if I just disappear tonight, you know what happened.

Well, we’re here if you need us. Yeah, Jimmy spoke up. If you need me, come find me, alright, Uce?

He nodded his head. Alright, Uce, I’ll see y’all there.

Ok, you bring something? Naomi asked

He sucked his teeth. I'm bringing myself

She laughed. Ok, we see you there. Love you.

Love you too, bye.

He took a look in the mirror, messing with his hair one last time before taking a step back.

He had on a black shirt pulled tight to his muscles and a pair of gray sweatpants sitting at his hips. He walked over to the drawer where he kept his chains, grabbing the one he usually picked. He threw on his white forces before walking out of the bathroom into his bedroom.

He grabbed his keys and sunglasses off the dresser before he walked out of the house.

As he drove, his mind was racing; he felt his palms getting sweaty at the thought of what was going to happen. He already wasn’t excited to go, but his mama had called him earlier this week telling him his ass better show up, and she didn’t care about the drama, so he dragged his ass out of the house to make her happy.

Luckily, his relationship with Roman and Jim got better these past months, so there shouldn’t be much of a problem like the years before.

These moments meant a lot to her, so he was going to be on his best behavior even if it would pain him to do so.

As he pulled up in her neighborhood, he felt his mouth get dry. He was anxious; he didn’t want to ruin this day for his mama. He wasn’t sure how Roman would take it; he didn’t want to admit it to anybody, but he was a little scared. He knew how Roman could get, how low he would go to get what he wanted. He didn’t like thinking about Roman like that, but he couldn’t deny it.

He wanted to believe he had changed, that he saw him as a man and not the same person he could push around.

He had grown, and he hoped Roman had too.

All the cars parked in the street let him know he was close to her house.

He parked his car in the driveway, just taking a moment to gather himself before opening his door. He saw eyes peeking through the windows as he walked up the driveway to the porch. He knocked on the door with a smile on his face.

The door immediately opened, and his mom stood there.

You're finally here! I have so much for you to do, she said, pulling him inside.

Damn I just got here, ma.

She hit him on the arm as he stepped inside.

Oh, I’m sorry, he said, rubbing his arm. What do you want me to do, ma?

Come with me to the kitchen. I need your help. She said, walking towards the kitchen, He followed behind her, dragging his feet.

After a couple of hours, he managed to make his way outside on the back porch, finding a place to hide. Everybody else was inside; he just needed a minute. He didn’t come home often, so when he did, his mom had him doing the most. He just needed a minute.

He sat down on the top step, running a hand over his face. The sun was starting to set, bringing a chill into the air.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket; there were a couple of missed texts from Rhea.

He couldn’t help but smile; she was checking in on him, seeing what he was doing.

He texted her back, apologizing for missing her text.

What are you doing out here, uce? Roman said, walking up behind him.

Umm, nothing, just needed a sec, he said, pulling his phone back in his pocket.

He sat down next to him. So, um, he cleared his throat. How have you been?

Good, good, finally back, he chuckled, turning to him. You?

I've been good, working hard, you know, he said, sitting back against the steps.

Yeah, I know he looked down at the steps beneath his feet, letting out a sigh.

Hey, Uce, He looked back towards him.

What’s up? He said, looking back at him.

He sucked in a breath. I’m dating someone.

As soon as those words left his mouth, his mouth turned dry and his hands got clammy.

He nodded his head. Mmm, you must really like her then, huh, if you're telling me about it, he chuckled.

Yeah, I do, he said, feeling his face get a little warm. She’s great, like really great, he said with a big grin on his face.

So do I know her?

He ran a hand through his hair. Yeah, she, um, works with us.

He had a surprised look on his face. Really, who?

He let out an awkward chuckle, rubbing his hands together. Yeah, uh, he licked his lips. Shit, okay, okay, he said to himself, trying to calm down.

His heart was beating fast, like it was going to beat out of his chest, his palms shiny with sweat. His mind raced trying to find the right words.

It’s Rhea.

His breath got caught in his throat as those words left his mouth; his leg began to bounce.

As in Ripley Rhea Ripley? he said with a curious look

Yeah, yeah, he stood up, standing next to a wooden column, rubbing his chin, his mind running a mile a minute.

Roman stayed seated, raising his eyebrows, his tongue running against his teeth. You good? He said, sounding sincere but still in his same condescending manner,

He sucked his teeth. Yeah, I’m good. You good?He shot back in the same way Roman had.

He nodded his head. I’m fine, he smiled. I don’t care what you do or who you do. Jey, as long as you're there when I need you and focused, I could care less, he said callously.

He scoffed, shaking his head. Yeah, I don’t know why I thought your ass would give a shit.

He just looked at him with his same stupid scowl.

Tapping his foot impatiently like he was waiting for him to say more

He chuckled to himself. Fuck you, Uce, he said, beginning to walk away.

Stop! His voice was dominant, cutting through the thoughts running through his mind.

He begrudgingly stopped; he didn’t know why he just did.

What!? he said, irritated

He didn’t say anything he didn’t have to; he knew the look on Roman’s face told him everything.

He shook his head. Yeah, I’ll still fucking be there. He said before walking back into the house

The sound of music and laughter flooded his ears, reminding him why he went outside in the first place.

He made his way to the kitchen, hoping nobody would be in there trying to avoid his family so he could leave; he was over it.

He walked into the kitchen, seeing their mom standing there boxing up some leftovers.

What are you doing, dear? She said, looking up at him.

Nothing, just, uh, she had a look on her face that told him that she already knew he was lying.

He looked down at the floor, avoiding her gaze.

He heard her footsteps getting closer; she tilted his head up, looking at her.

What happened, dear? She said gently.

He shook his head. Nothing is everything fine, ma.

Her gaze softened as she put both her hands on his shoulders.

I’m fine, Ma. I just got to get going; we got the holiday tour coming up, and I still haven’t packed yet, so

Do I need to talk to somebody, baby?

No, it’s fine, ma. Don’t worry; I just got some stuff I got to do.

Alright, she said skeptically, at least take some food with you.

She pulled away from him, walking back over to the takeout boxes.

Now I’ll never say no to your food.

She handed him two boxes on top of each other.

Make sure you call me when you get home, ok?

I will. He took the boxes from her.I love you, he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

Love you too.

_________________________________________________

He sat down on the edge of the bed, holding his head in his hands. Damn it! He said, slamming his hand down on the edge of the bed,

Why did he think he would care? He never cared about anything other than himself.

But he couldn’t stop wishing that he did. What he felt for Rhea was different than anything he had felt with any woman.

He didn’t know what it was, but she was different. She got him in a way his other girlfriend couldn’t.

They never understood the relationship he had with his family; they didn’t get the abuse he had been through, how he could get through all that and stick around; they didn’t get it.

Some didn’t even believe it, how a fucking professional wrestler could get pushed around.

He sat back on the bed, his hands falling beside his head.

But Rhea understood the pain he had gone through, what he’s still going through, and he understood her.

They just got each other in a way most people didn’t. They had both been hurt by the people they trusted most.

He never intended to fall in love with her; he was just trying to be a good friend, be there for her, but he couldn’t help but love her. She was amazing and beautiful and...

He couldn’t think of another word to describe her; she was too amazing to put into words.

And he just wanted to show the people he loved just how great she was.

But Roman didn’t care; he was arrogant like always. As long as he could remember, he had been arrogant. He thought he could change, but he guessed that he was asking for too much.

His phone rang over on the dresser. He pulled his body off the bed, grabbing it.

Rhea sat in her bed. She finally got a break from her family. She loved that they were here, but she wanted to check in on Jey just for a moment.

Her phone rang in her hand with Jey’s name across the top of the screen with a blue heart.

It rang for a minute before he answered.

Hey, babygirl, How’s your night going?

Good I just got a minute away from my family, and I wanted to see how you were doing.

I'm good. It was cool, he said, falling back on his bed.

You talk to Roman? She asked, watching the smile on his face fall a bit, and an irritated look came across his face.

Yeah, I talked to him.

She could tell it didn’t go as well as he hoped, but his face You okay, baby?

He let out a sigh. Yeah, I’m good. He pushed his hair back out of his face. It’s just been a long day, and I still have to pack.

She could hear and see the tiredness in his voice and face. How did everything go with Roman?

He smacked his lips. It was what I expected; he didn’t care, so that’s good to know. I went through all that bullshit just for him not to give a fuck. He said, his voice dipping in frustration, his gaze drifting away from hers, finding something else to look at.

She could hear his foot tapping against the floor through the phone. She lay down against all her pillows, propping her up. Baby, she said softly, getting his attention.

Yeah, what’s up? He said, looking back at her,

I’m here if you need me, okay?

I know I’m just tired.

Alright then, I’ll let you go, and I’ll see you soon. Love you.

Love you too, babygirl. He hung up, letting his phone drop on the bed, letting out a sigh, running a hand over his face. Shit, he sat up, looking over at his suitcase on the floor.

He knew he should get up and pack his shit, but he didn’t want to. He was done with this day; he just wanted to sleep. He threw off his shirt, and crawling under the covers,

He tried to find sleep, but his mind wouldn’t stop; it just kept running. Just think about Roman; it just pissed him off.

He couldn’t believe he was stressing about it if he didn’t even give it a second thought.

Maybe he already knew and that’s why he didn’t care. Given that the wiseman was back, he wouldn’t put it past him to tell Roman about what he was up to on Raw while they were gone.

The thought of them keeping tabs on him while he was gone gave him a bad feeling, though.

He rolled over onto his back, looking up at the ceiling. God, he didn’t know why it bothered him so much that he didn’t care.

He had never really cared about the woman he dated; it didn’t befit him, so why would he

But this was different. there was this feeling in the pit of his stomach

It almost hurt that Roman didn’t care. He wanted him to; he just wanted them to get along. He was so fucking tired of all the people he loved fighting. He just wanted them to get along.

Everyone else loved Rhea; she got along great with Jim, Naomi, and Sami, but Roman didn’t give a fuck.

He just just……wanted his approval.

he drove off it He hated to say it; he never would out loud, but he needed it.

when he said he was proud of him, deep down he knew it was bullshit, but it still meant everything to him, and he hated that it was

He hated that he needed to be told he was good to be good.

It was that thing you know when you do good, but you still need that one person to tell you you're good, or it doesn’t count.

And that one person was Roman; he brought his hands up to his face.

He thought he hoped that when he left the bloodline, all of his issues would leave too, but then it wouldn’t be called trauma now, would it?

He let out a deep sigh, running a hand down his face, letting it fall on his chest.

He had to wake up even earlier now since he didn’t pack his shit; he needed to sleep, but he just kept getting lost in his thoughts.

_________________________________________________

Happy Christmas everybody I decided to give you all a gift! I hope you like it 🖤

[agent-yolk-writes]

A Nightmare in Devildom (Obey Me/Nightmare on Elm Street concept fic)

Basically what it says on the tin. A "what if MC was a survivor of freddy kreuger's torment before the events of OM" concept fic.

This is was of those weird ideas I came with this during the early covid lockdown period where my insomnia got really bad to the point where I was borderline delirious. I meant to get this out during October for spooky season vibes but after three Octobers came and went and Obey Me isn't getting any more updates, I figure I throw it into the pit before that happens. No beta we die like obey me as a franchise, I guess!

If this inspires you to write something similar, please let me know! If you want me to write more...please reconsider!

And, of course, happy holidays!

AO3 Mirror Link

Good lord, I look terrible. You thought as you looked at yourself in the mirror. When was the last time I got some rest?

Other than looking more visibly tired, you look...older. It was the face of a nurse finally coming home after back-to-back double shifts. The bags under your eyes could only get so dark, but thankfully you knew a demon who had so much concealer and foundation lying around that he wouldn’t know if a few went missing. 

You knew you shouldn’t be continuing this habit, but you can’t help it. Despite living in a mansion with the most powerful demons in Literal Hell(!!) in the past few weeks your brain is still not convinced that you’re safe from Him . Would he still have the balls to terrorize you still? Does he even know where you are? Surely he’ll just know when you disappeared without a trace, but you can’t afford to find out for yourself. 

As much as you wanted to tell the brothers, you didn’t want to drag them into this mess. After all, this problem only started just weeks before you were brought here. It came without warning, and suddenly it turned into a bloodied hurricane. To think He was the one that killed your friends and classmates back in the human world…you regretted not being able to do more for them until you were in His sights.

This opportunity with the exchange program was either a saving grace or a divine intervention, and you’re not going to let that chance slip away from you. You have the whole year to work on magic and potions and anything else that could possibly drive Him away if not kill him for good, and you highly doubt he’s going to forget about you. Knowing how to do magic is one thing, but putting it to memory is another. This wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t so damn tired. You’re trying so hard to pay attention in class, but you just end up more focused on trying to keep your eyes open lest you allow Him to strike at your most vulnerable. 

However, there is one possible solution. The only problem is that you needed to form a pact with his other brothers before he could even consider helping you, that slothful bastard. Belphegor knows how tired you are and how you would do anything for a safe and peaceful rest. There was no point hiding it from him as you were with the others. Oh, how you envied the way he could sleep the day away in his little prison cell…you could just punch him if only you had the strength.

…

You really didn’t feel good about the multi-layered lie you found yourself webbed into to get the pacts in the first place. You recently got Beelzebub’s pact, putting you at the halfway mark. He looked so happy about your ‘plan’ to impress Lucifer enough to have him make up with Belphegor that it made your stomach churn in shame. Is it really okay for you to do this? Wouldn’t it be easier to tell the truth? Out of all the brothers, you couldn’t help but feel guilty for lying to Beel.

But what if Lucifer points his finger at Belphegor if you bring it up before you’re able to finish explaining? Would it destroy all the progress you made? Would you make things worse ? If they draw parallels that your deprivation is somehow related to the seventh-born’s sleep-related powers…only Lucifer would have an answer different from the other five. That’s why you have to keep up this facade for as long as you can. That’s why you need to stay awake. To find a way to protect yourself as well as the others. 

Your new friends at Purgatory Hall, bless their hearts, were none the wiser. Considering two of them were actual angels, you would’ve expected at least Luke to confront you with tears in his eyes about your health at least a month in. He makes a big talk about how you should never trust ‘those demons’ before having lunch with Beelzebub. Sometimes you think Solomon is giving you weird looks whenever you make eye contact with him. It’s probably the sleep-deprived paranoia, but you hope it’s nothing. You’ve been getting away with it for this long, so what? 

Tomorrow you have to stay over at Diavolo’s castle as part of an exchange party sleepaway camp or something. If you’re lucky, you can have a room for yourself. You don’t pack your go-to methods for staying awake until right before everyone heads out.

~

The steaming heat of the boiler room did not warm the chill in your bones one bit. 

You should know the inner workings of this hellscape by now. It was His favorite hunting ground, after all. However, something seems different this time. Everything felt…a bit shifted to the right, in a way. On top of that, there’s no sight or sound of Him anywhere. No taunting catchphrases, no spooky teleports he’s fond of doing, not even the shilling sound of his claw on metal when he’s close. This is probably his new trick, you think. Lulling you into a false sense of security before-

You turned around, involuntary flinching as you braced yourself to be hit. Only to process seconds later that nothing’s coming. In fact, there was no sign of life behind you in the first place. Damn it, he really was playing with you at this point. As soon as you let out a sigh of relief, you heard someone screaming from the other side of the room. You couldn’t tell who they were, but that’s not going to stop you. You ran towards the sound before you let the dread wash over you. 

“I’m coming!” You yelled at them. “Wake up! He can’t hurt you if you’re awake!” You were so focused on tilting your head up to project your voice to the other person that you didn’t realize you hit a dead end until you ran into a wall of pipes. “Oh, god damn it!” You cursed, pivoting on your foot to turn around and run even faster. 

What happened next happened too fast. You didn’t know where you were going. Everything is starting to blur together. A pipe managed to burst the same second you turned your head to follow the noise, immediately blinding your vision with steam and a “Shit!” jumping out of your mouth. The suddenness of it all made you lose your momentum and you feel yourself stumbling forward. You didn’t have time to brace yourself for the sharp object that’s going right through your- 

You wake with an audible gasp, hands going up to your throat. The sound of your racing heart and your uneven breathing replace the sounds of pipes and steam. You looked around in the darkness and could barely see two bodies sleeping in their respective beds. Ah, that’s right. This is the first night of Diavolo’s retreat, and you find yourself paired to a room with Asmodeus and Simeon. In an attempt to pretend you’re asleep ended up having you fall asleep for real. You couldn’t help but think how pathetic you were for letting your guard down for one second and falling into His hands again after so long all because you were waiting for someone to finish their 20-step overnight skin routine.

With a shuddered sigh, you carefully slipped out of your bed and into the hallway in hopes you could clear your thoughts without disturbing your roommates. 

Thanks to the occasional jittering of a Little D doing their nightly duties, the halls of a demon lord’s castle don’t feel as haunted as you would think. The lights were dimmed but not out completely, which gave way for the moon to shine in as its own source of light. Had you been carrying a candle in a brass holder you would’ve thought you stumbled into one of those old gothic novels. You didn’t have a real destination in mind, but you made sure you remembered which room you were assigned to just in case. 

At some point during the night, you ended up in one of the lounge rooms, curled up on a couch facing the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, and looked up at all the stars. It has always been a comfort for you. You even began reading about them in an attempt to stay awake back in the human world. You thought you could recognize some of the constellations, but there are always a few stars here and there that turn it into an unrecognizable shape. At least you have new material to read about when you’re back in your room at the House of Lamentation. 

The soft calling of your name from the door broke your serene silence followed by a, “Is that you?”

A small gasp managed to escape your throat before you were able to put your hands over your mouth. You curled into yourself at first so whoever it was can’t see your head poking out from the back. After a few seconds, it finally clicked as to who it was.

Sheepishly, you stick your head out. “Hi, Barbatos.” You said, voice croaking in unexpected use. Even though it was dark and his figure obscured, you could make out that he was holding some kind of tray. “Am I not supposed to be here? I’m sorry. I’ll go back and…”

“It’s fine.” He assured you. “I heard someone walking around, so I’ve taken the liberty to brew some chamomile tea for them should they feel restless. Would you like some?”

“...”

Tea does sound nice, but the fact that it was chamomile made you hesitate. At the same time, Barbatos just made it, so it would be rude to let it go to waste.

“...That would be nice. Thank you.”

He made his way over to the other side of the couch. Part of you wanted to sit up and be proper when drinking, but even thinking about adjusting your posture makes you tired. Still, you make an effort to reach over to take the tea cup from the butler’s hands. Barbatos took this opportunity to start talking. 

“This is your first time spending the night at a castle, I presume?” You made an affirmative noise as you sipped, not wanting to point out that it’s not just any castle you’re sleeping at. “I reckon slipping in a new bed right as you got settled in would put anyone’s nerves on edge.”

You put your cup down as you replied, “I guess you can say that.” 

He looks at you quizzically. “Is something amiss? I’ll inform the Young Master right away.”

“It’s…It’s fine, Barbatos. Thanks for worrying.” You took another sip before letting out a sigh. “I’ve always had trouble sleeping, you can say. I get…these really bad nightmares that make me stay up for days on end. They were so terrifying and real…I kept wondering if I was losing my mind. I’ve tried every remedy in the book to stop them but…” You stopped to let a yawn out. “Sorry…As I was saying, I tried everything the doctors thought could help me. They even brought in a priest thinking it was ‘dream demons’ or something.” You paused, replaying the last thing you said. “Are dream demons even a thing here?”

“They are a form of lesser demons, yes.” The butler answered. “They’re relatively harmless as individual beings, but can pose a threat in large numbers or if they get close to a human.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.” You told him bitterly. 

“If it brings you any comfort, just know that they’re not powerful enough to be able to enter the human world on their own. Only certain powerful demons have the authority to travel to that realm directly. Such as the Young Master and Lucifer, for example.”

You couldn’t help but huff out air through your nose in relief. Suck on that, Pastor John. 

“...So yeah. Just before I was summoned here, they put me on a clinical trial for a medication that…reduces? Suppress? It, like, stops giving me dreams entirely, and they work. Forgot the name though. And I coincidentally ran out just before I was transferred here so…yeah.” Your eyes looked over to the butler. “Sorry I didn’t mention it earlier, I guess. I keep getting roped into whatever the brothers get themselves into that I never really had time to check on myself.”

Barbatos didn’t respond immediately. You were too busy concentrating on balancing the tea on your stomach to spare a glance over to your nighttime companion to see what kind of face he was making. Would he make one? Shouldn’t he have known of this malady when your file was being processed? Maybe, because of their biology, demons don’t worry about these kinds of conditions. You mulled around internally in a tired haze before realizing that your eyes were slowly creeping shut. With a soft sigh, you moved the plate to the nearest table and stood up slowly.

“Anyways, thanks for the tea. Compliments to the chef.” You couldn’t help but let out a big stretch followed by an even bigger yawn. “I’ll head back to bed now. No guarantee I’ll sleep though.” You let out a huff that was supposed to be your attempt at a dry laugh. “You should get some rest too. Big day ahead, y’know? See you in the morning.” And with that, you exited the room and into the dim hallway.

The small smile Barbatos had dropped as soon as your back was turned to him. It was no secret that your time as a transfer student was being hindered by your lack of sleep. Even your recent medical file was perplexing in figuring out the cause of this disorder. It’s not genetic nor was it caused by a major traumatic event. Perhaps it’s something else? You did mention dream demons, after all, albeit it was more of a speculative idea that was brought up by your doctors in order to get a man of the cloth involved. It definitely couldn’t be Belphegor’s meddling, he thinks. He wouldn’t know about the human’s arrival.

It looks like he’ll have to do some digging after this exchange party concludes. He might need to start gathering evidence now while the human is still here. Diavolo will need to get involved, there’s no doubt about that. He would do anything to ensure the health and safety of the exchange students, after all. 

~

When everyone converged for a tour around the castle, some had noted that you looked less sluggish than usual. You simply waved them off, making up an excuse about the mattress not being up to human standards. Hopefully, you didn’t offend the demon prince when you said that. 

Still, you can’t deny that you feel a little well-rested. You did remember trying a method where you close your eyes for 15 minutes, wake up for another 15, close your eyes again, rinse and repeat. You usually had an alarm for this technique, but you didn’t want to disturb Simeon or Asmodeus as much as you already did slipping in and out of bed. You didn’t think you were able to keep track, but you did somehow, give or take a few minutes. Now you can actually pay attention to that cute little demon acting as the tour guide, explaining the intricate history of all the subjects painted on these beautifully crafted portraits. You couldn’t help but smile seeing Diavolo puffing his chest in pride when the Little D started talking about his father, the current Demon King. 

(But when it was mentioned that he's been sleeping at the bottom of Devildom for millennia you couldn't help but feel jealous. The most powerful being of all the realms is casually sleeping the decades away while you don’t even get the privilege of an hour of uninterrupted rest.)

You looked at the other paintings decorating the hall. Some plaques are written in what you can only presume is some kind of archaic language that only demons would know. If you could understand at least a part of it, then maybe you can get a deeper understanding of these pictures. 

A gentle call of your name and a not-so-gentle clap on your back broke your weak concentration. You tore your eyes away to meet Diavolo’s gentle gaze. “I see that her beauty managed to draw you in?” 

You blinked, trying to process what he said. “I-I’m sorry, whose beauty? I was…too focused on figuring out what the plaque said.” You managed to blurt out, causing the prince to chuckle.

“Oh, that? It simply reads ‘The Queen of Devildom’. In other words, that’s my mother.” His gaze turned to the painting, but you stayed fixated on him. He continued by adding, “This painting and some vague memories are all I have of her. She passed away several centuries ago when I was still an infant. My father would always talk about how…” And he continued to drone on from there. It wasn’t his fault, and you were genuinely trying to cling on to every word he’s saying because it’s important to him and you wanted to leave a good impression. On the other hand, the bleariness in your eyes started to cloud your vision again as a result of your lack of sleep. So you avert your gaze back to the painting unintentionally so you can wipe it away, biting your tongue to restrain the yawn that comes with it. Part of you hopes that Diavolo thinks that you’re speechless and moved to tears.

That thought quickly vanished when you opened your eyes to the painting. 

There was a choking noise, and you almost didn’t realize it came from you. It felt like the world around you completely disappeared, and only you and Him were the only inhabitants. 

Devildom seemed to freeze over the moment you made direct eye contact with the painted eyes of your tormentor. His scarred face did nothing to hide that cocky smirk he loves to wear. He’s holding up his bloodied claw to you in a way that couldn’t be anything else but a taunting gesture, as if he knows what he’s doing to you. His other hand wrapped around the back of a bloodied woman. By the way, the painting is framed, you assumed she was supposed to be sitting. Unfortunately, you know that’s not the case here. Her head dipped back, obscuring her face from you. You assumed she was originally wearing either a white or a similar light-colored dress, but that didn’t matter as it was dyed by the blood seeping out of that four-lined wound in her chest that you knew all too well. Just the sight alone made you reach for your hip where an old wound dimly throbs at the clothed contact. 

You didn’t dare move your gaze. You needed to keep an eye on him. 

“Hey…!”

You knew it. This opportunity to fly off his radar and find a way to kill him for good while he’s not looking was too good to be true.

“...!”

How did he even get here? Did he follow you down when you got summoned? What will he-

“...!!”

Time seemed to resume the second someone grabbed onto your shoulders and turned you around. You wanted-no, needed to keep an eye on him. Sadly, you don’t have eyes on the back of your head. Instead, you were forced to look at Diavolo's worried eyes. You didn’t even let him get a word in before you began panicking. 

“What have you done?!” You yelled. You pointed to the painting behind you. “Can’t you see I’m trying to protect you!”

“Protect us from…who?”

“Him!” You pointed to the portrait.

Only the painted eyes of a woman stare back at you.

It was too late for you now. The moment you allow yourself even to think you’re away from his control, you end right back into his hands. 

Nowhere is safe, not even in hell.

A maniacal laugh fills your ears as everyone crowds around your panicked state.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Heyaa dunno if u write NSFW so read no further if you don't!

May we get uhhh Franco Barbi having his... "Lupara" (wink wink nudge nudge) kissed by a reader who happens to be one of his working girls and him being surprised at how sweet and gentle she is with him pls? Also reader is very shy because she's a newbie

Thank uu 😇

Love can be gentle

Franco Barbi x fem!reader

warning : smut, gun play, getting oral m, fluff, comfort, kissing, no use of y/n, nicknames like ma'am and good boy

Summary : It wasn't easy to run a theater, prepare a show and above all be a good boy who would make his mother proud. But even Franco needs a moment of peace and one of his girls has a special eye on the gangster. Perhaps there will be a romance movie for a change instead of just porn on the big screen.

info : Of course you will get something like this dear anon thanks a lot for the request, i had a lot of fun writing it especially for the shy reader it was really sweet. I wish you a lot of fun reading ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In his area, his trial, he could do anything he wanted to sleep, drink milk, carve his ammunition from the most beautiful teeth or even turn to his victims who were all like playthings for the gangster whose lust is only surpassed by his love for violence.

Everyone knew Franco Barbi and his brutality but also his genius even down here in the hell of an asylum or wherever they were, nobody really knew and wouldn't think about it for long.

Because either you died in the first few days or you lost your mind trying to understand it...only the fewest still had something like emotions, morals or a mind.

A mind that still worked and a mind that could be used to give something to the more important experiments, like a wind-up toy that kept working instead of breaking.

,,You are his dolls, his girls so try to take it with a pinch of dignity, think of it as babysitting my dears” it was these words before the pills had taken effect and the new batch of prisoners was sent to Franco.

A couple of new pretty girls who would be Franco's poster children and decoys and weapons for his prey, they were bad kids who needed to be punished, he knew it, the dead knew it, they realized it too late and she knew it.

She knew it as well as the black patent stiletto heels on her feet as she made her rounds in the theater, her route now worn out for several minutes as they all did regardless of whether the game had begun or not, ,,Where are you?” she muttered, switching the revolver in her hand again to get her fingers moving again.

Franco had been gone for hours she had only seen him in the morning or however many o'clock it was when he disappeared with a few teeth, nervous and more excited than usual.

A thing she shouldn't really care about, no one should care about anyone here because their own survival was more important but Franco, her boss, her experiment, her sweet boy was something else to her since she met him which had almost resulted in the loss of her head if he hadn't pulled his lupara away when she had introduced herself to him.

This man the gangster psychopath with mother complex had just done it to her, he was cute and misunderstood and maybe it was the drugs, the pills, the gewlat or her lost hope for recovery but she had lost her heart a little to the man-baby.

Before her thoughts could go any further and she hoped that no one had seen her lost in thought look, she heard an unmistakable scream and wailing from afar.

Franco was back and seemed more stressed than usual, she immediately felt worried as she watched him come into the theater by the broken window and the ,,I hope for you dolls you're all on your fucking posts!” scream could be heard, something that seemed normal to the others put her on edge.

Was it normal? Did he want something? Should she go to him? Didn't someone have to calm him down because babysitting was her job, so to speak?

But the warmth on her cheeks and her heart now beating faster than it should didn't make things any better, despite everything she had seen, her nervousness didn't seem to have gone away, let alone her shyness.

Something that wasn't even bad Franco even seemed satisfied that she didn't talk so much because she was afraid to say the wrong thing and couldn't get anything out without dying of heat exhaustion...but now she finally had a chance.

Holstering her gun, she finally broke away from her route and walked down the stairs from the second floor as best the building would allow into the main hall where only he sat, each step making her more nervous, the questions and scenarios she imagined becoming more and more terrifying.

But her shoes betrayed her and the creaking of the old wood seemed to be a scream in the relatively quiet room, ,,What the fuck do you want?” the question from Franco, who had his gun pointed at her, was a shot and she put her hands up briefly, seeing how he seemed to relax as much as possible.

Her voice trailed off for a moment and she cleared her throat before coming to stand in front of him, looking down at him, ,,I...I saw you were nervous, do you need something?” she asked, her fingers clutching at the short skirt that exposed most of her legs to him.

An outfit not quite to her taste but it seemed to do something for Franco whose blue eyes were reluctant to leave her and smirked, ,,Do I fucking need anything? Doll, I don't think you can give me what I need, can you?” he asked, a challenging look in his eyes.

A look that she had often seen, especially when he had found a pretty, beautiful victim whose body he wanted to use for his personal collection, a look that not only made her nervous but also turned her on more than it should.

I'd give you anything Franco she would have liked to scream and get down on her knees in front of him but instead her gaze dropped nervously to the floor and she stammered around the right words, something that seemed to amuse the gangster greatly and he had forgotten his worries, at least for now.

She was new and he had been playing this game for as long as he had been here, it was a game of cat and mouse, a game of knowing and giving in but here she knew he only spoke the language of brutality...but in the few moments she had seen him for herself he was not only alone but also searching for love and gentleness.

Maybe as he didn't have to admit his side she just had to jump over her shadow and whether it was because of the gas and drugs or her love for him didn't matter as she carefully knelt down in front of him and Franco's gaze became curious.

The baby had become interested in what was happening in front of him, a beautiful woman, perfect shoes with heels that could and would surely hurt him, hands that would hit him if he leaned on them and a gun that would shoot if he pulled down her skirt.

Just as he reached his hand out to her, still feeling impatient and angry, she laid her cheek against his hand, her warm cheek seeming almost alien to him since every female body he played with was actually cold.

But this warmth was almost pleasant, so pleasant that he began to caress her cheek lightly, breaking their eye contact every now and then, both unsure if this was the right thing to do, ,,I can show you gentleness...if you like Franco” she began to find her voice seemed to be in the right place as she knelt between his legs looking at him a gentle look meeting his now uncertain one as he was not used to this new feeling.

Her hands moved from her skirt to his white-streaked suit pants, tracing the fabric, the skin underneath squeezing slightly with a pleasant tug, and she plucked up the courage to reach for his gun.

His most important possession, which he also clutched for fear she would take it away from him, ,,Gentleness can also be loving, caring and nurturing,” she continued to murmur, the words escaping her lips and a Franco unaware that such a thing even seemed possible.

But he hesitantly loosened his lupara and her lips kissed the wood and metal, the cold weapon giving her a goose bump that seemed to pass to Franco as he groaned at the sight.

How pretty she was, how gentle she was with such an ugly thing, how her lips kissed along the gun, how his mind interpreted the image into something ambiguous and he felt how he wanted her...but not rough and dead, he wanted that softness she gave him.

She ran her tongue over the barrel of the gun metal and blood tasted unpleasant but not strange and her fingers ran over his strokes, ,,Gentle-gentle is good, the baby will like it” she heard his rough voice as he kept his noises under control not wanting to interrupt her.

She didn't want to lose the idea that had rarely fascinated and above all aroused him so much, an arousal that pressed painfully against his pants and she had seen this long ago when she finished her little performance, encouraged by his reaction.

Encouraged by how he saw her, what he thought of her but most of all that he liked her gentleness was something that gave her the courage she needed as she placed her hands on his cheeks for a moment, ,,A good boy you are Franco, so good for your ma'am” she murmured with the same warm cheeks as she engaged him in a kiss. Franco felt her hold his hands gently on her hips, yet not letting go, he had taken a liking to the new feeling.

Something he'd never had and would now only get from her and he let her pull as her fingers traveled down his torso, running over his arousal, the deformed one whimpering as his fingers dug into the back of the seat instead of gripping her tightly.

The praise did wonders for him, along with the gentleness it was just something he'd never felt before, ,,Your reward baby...for behaving to take some of the stress off you,” she said, and he barely remembered in his fuzzy memory why he'd been so angry when he'd burst in here.

Undoing the button of his pants, she ran her tongue over the fabric of them first and was almost surprised at the hasty movement of his hips, he really was an impatient man.

But she didn't let herself be put off and licked once more over the fabric gently, teasing a little before she freed his cock from the fabric, the whimpering and pleading of the psychopath rewarding her with a kiss on the already dripping tip.

Spreading it a little with more kisses and licks, she was sure he could come from that alone.

He had held out so well for her, responded so well to her praise, ,,Be gentle and Mommy gives you everything,” she said, her hand gently stroking his and he held onto it as a breathless begging continued to come from his lips and she finally took his own 'lupara' in her mouth to show him how gentle and intimate something like this could be.

He just had to behave and be a good boy who simply had to accept the feeling of love and softness if he wanted to continue to feel it on him...because even love is soft.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@lovesick-on-the-loose , @millie-milkshake , @xgrisleyx , @trash-flowerss

[sol-insidious]

UHHHHHH, courtesy of my fellow basement dwellers in the Dinluke Star Dads server, I made this really basic template for folks to sort their stor wors blorbos. Feel free to use it!

Here's mine under the line:

[iron-bundle]

i miss her (demi adejuyigbe's september 21st videos)

[mimiatmidnight]

Will you be commenting on the Taylor drama?

I love the way this was worded, like I'm one of the siblings on Succession and the press has cornered me outside my penthouse to ask if I'll be releasing a statement on my family's latest scandal. Hehehe anyways.

Sorry but I just don't understand how anyone is shocked. Truly what has that woman ever done to successfully convince people that this is out of character for her. Like I don't want to diminish anyone's pain or anything but I see all these stans on here and over on Twitter in all this distress, having their very first epiphanies like "Hold on . . . does Taylor . . . suck??" And I kinda just have to chuckle at them cause like bless your hearts babes, but omg catch UP 😭

Lol because 1) she is a severely emotionally stunted person who thinks edgy British "bad boys" are hot like she's 12 years old, 2) she has no true deeply-held moral principles outside of issues that directly affect herself, and 3) truthfully, she seems to be suffering from a serious crisis of identity after the end of the longest and most significant romantic relationship of her life, and in my opinion is pretty clearly desperate to prove something to the world/her ex/herself.

The first reason is cringe but not news to longtime viewers, the second reason is pathetic but also not news (to those who can be honest with themselves), and the third is . . . understandable in some sense, but not pitiable enough to make me willing to humor this insufferable little episode she's having. I wish her luck on this humiliating rebound journey, but she is gonna have to walk that road on her own.

Normally, I always roll my eyes when people make these kinds of jokes, but given the circumstances I feel justified in saying: I can't wait to hear the breakup song about him, sis 🤡

[youssefguedira]

the schedule is going to be very funny because it's gonna end up being go see la chimera tonight and then finally watch challengers tomorrow and i do think hearing josh o'connor act in english is going to be very weird for me