#you fool! You walked right into my trap >:3

[making-your-fave-in-fr]

I made this Prancing Capricat from Webfishing in Flight Rising!

F Tundra (Light Goat eyes) Maize/Basic | Maize/Basic | Maize/Runes

Bone Antlers, Bubbly Bisque Spats

Howdy, fellow gimmick blog!

Might I request a Prancing Capricat from Flight Rising, please?

@making-your-fave-in-fr

🤝🤝🤝my MAN!! god i ahvent played fr in. A While

(cat/no pattern/white/white/fox tail, goat/pink/toothy) (antlers, yellow rain boots)

blehh

[emacrow]

Danny glared at Scarecrow man from the corner of his play table in the living room pt 3 by emacrow/creator

Stabbing his orange colored playdoh shaped scarecrow with his plastic fork as he stared hard at the sweating bullet Johnathan Crane, who was sitting in the dark purple couch with Lilith making drinks in the kitchen behind.

He could feel the dark energy radicating off this little toddler with the glowing eyes, teeth looking a bit too sharp as the kid stabbed the playdoh repeatedly.

"My mommy." Growled the possibility of a long lost distant related demon brat Robin.

Meeting the demonic toddler once more after 2 months after the wedding with his legs barely able to walk like a goddamm baby lamb toward the kitchen while Lilith looking more refreshed, moving easily the he was.

"You leave like the rest of them after I'm through with you, in the dirt."

That child is a dangerous little monster under an angelic face that can trick Lilith with how this kid attempted to have him killed on multiple occasions.

"She not your mommy."

Don't even get him started on the forever frozen icicles in the shower that almost killed him, fucking tiny plastic sword trap the kid's closet that was sharpen to almost stabbed him in the gut when he opened it to put away the brat's toys or the fake tantrum to scream so loud that his eardrums nearly went deaf.

"You don't deserve mummy."

Kid had a vendetta over him, just even being 3 feet close to Lilith without him death glaring him like a vengeful spirit.

The staring contest only lasted for a few seconds when Lilith came out of the kitchen with her favorite medieval mug of tea, a cup full of coffee with three drops of honey for him, and planet designed sippy cup full of hot chocolate and side of marshmallows for Danny.

That brat's evil face suddenly switched like a god damn switch, eyes sparkling with that gaping tooth smile staring at Lilith like she brought the moon itself to him, kissing her cheek with a soft giggle.

"Thank you, mummy." He said, sipping his sippy cup, his little feet swinging back and forth.

Lilith doesn't realize she was fooled by that demon in disguised.

Well, at least he got one thing on his side, which was the dark massive horse that lived in the backyard of Lilith home in the stable house. Nightmare was her name, and she was obsessed with him and scarecrow masks, probably due to the fear toxin residue.

Lilith had a stern talking to that stalker horse after he almost freaked out, seeing that horse somehow in his part of the closet trying to steak his ninth spare scarecrow outfit again to hoard in the stable right when he tried to get ready for the meeting, dragging Jonathan back to Lilith's house by his jacket.

He has evil plans to do goddammit!

Previous pt 2 link here<-

[earthchica]

Right My Wrongs | 3

terry richmond x black fem! reader

summary: You and Terry's daughter, Jasmine, convince you to give him another chance and try to work things out.

warning: explicit smut (18+), angst, mention of nightmare, light submissive! terry, unprotected sex, foreplay, oral (f), squinting, hand job, choking, spanking, pet names { baby, baby girl, sweet girl}

note: the last part will be out soon; thanks again for your love for this mini-series. <3

series masterlist

You were staring out of the window, thoughts drifting away from this place and your heart elsewhere.

It's been at least a week, and you haven't been the same since Terry confessed his love and begged for another chance that night.

You tried to move on as if you didn't care, but you cared too damn much that it was affecting your relationship with Marcus.

You couldn't stop thinking about Terry that you had broken up with Marcus.

You wish Terry didn't have this hold on you. You wish you didn't love him, but the heart wants what it wants, and there's no stopping that.

You were lost in your thoughts when Jasmine's cry snapped you back to reality.

You hurried upstairs and entered her bedroom, where she was trapped in a nightmare—this had happened frequently.

"Sweetie, wake up," you gently said, wrapping her in your arms and giving her a slight shake to awaken her.

Jasmine opened her tear-filled eyes and exclaimed, "MOMMY? He didn’t turn around?"

Your heart sank as you asked, "Who, baby?"

"Daddy. He walked away because you pushed him away. You took him from me. Why? We need him; you need him," Jasmine cried, her words shattering your heart.

"Oh, baby...I’m sorry...I know the last few months have been hard, but I would never take your daddy away from you. Sometimes, we have to make choices that are hard to understand, but it doesn't mean we don't love you," you reassured her, gently stroking her back.

"Your daddy loves you so much, and so do I. We're both here for you, even if things are slightly different now."

Jasmine sniffled, nodding slightly as you held her close.

"But why can't we all be together as a family?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

"It's complicated, sweetheart," you replied softly.

"How, Mommy? You love him, and he loves you. You two can make it work if you really want to. Are you just scared?" she asked, curious.

"I do...I do love him, and yes, a little."

"Don’t be scared, Mommy. I believe you and Daddy can make it work again. Can you at least promise to try for me?"

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her words settle in your heart.

"I promise I will try, sweetie," you replied, stroking her back one more.

"Just know if it doesn't go as well. We are still a family, no matter what. Families can look different and still be filled with love. We'll always find ways to be together, even if it's different."

She sighed, her tiny body relaxing a bit under your comforting embrace.

"Okay, Mommy, but you should invite Daddy over so you two can talk through it," she suggested, her eyes flickering with hope.

"Sure, Sweetie. Now come on, go back to sleep." you smiled, kissing gently on her forehead.

Jasmine nodded, a small smile forming as she nestled her head against your shoulder.

"Mommy, I love you."

"I love you too, baby," you said. You stayed with her for a little bit, watching her peacefully fall back asleep.

The situation is complicated, but maybe it's time to stop fooling yourself.

You always be in love with Terry, and you just hoped he still felt the same after you rejected him.

You and Terry needed to get y'all shit together for the sake of Jasmine's emotional well-being, as it was negatively impacting her.

With a deep breath, you tucked her in securely, then gently kissed her forehead before quietly leaving the room.

-

You paced back and forth through the living room, nerves getting the best of you.

Jasmine was at your parents' house for the day, and Terry was supposed to be here an hour ago.

You feared he wouldn't show up until you heard a knock on the front door.

You hurried to open the door, and he stood there looking tall and anxious.

You hadn't made much effort to see him whenever he came to pick up Jasmine, so this was your first time seeing him in a week.

His eyes told you everything you needed to know; Terry looked utterly heartbroken.

He still looked handsome, but the slight dark circles under his eyes suggested he hadn't slept in days.

"Hi, Terry. Thanks for coming. Uh, come in," you said, stepping aside to allow him to enter the house.

"Where's Jazzy?" He asked, scanning the area, searching for her while maintaining a cautious distance from you.

"Uh...she's at my parents. I didn't call you for her; I called because I wanted to talk to you," you said, moving towards your leather couch.

"About what?" He asked with a frown, finally looking at you with his pretty eyes.

"You and me; please come and sit," you said, motioning for him to sit next to you on the couch.

Terry took a deep breath, clenched his jaw, and approached the couch.

He sat down next to you, and both of you sat silently, tension building between you until you broke it.

“I miss you, Terry.”

“Oh, really? What happened with you and ol' boy? It didn’t work out, huh?” He asked in a bitter tone.

You moved closer to him on the couch. “Don’t be like that, you know you miss me too...I can see it in your eyes.”

You reach out to touch his scruff cheek, expecting him to pull away, but he immediately leans into your touch, closing his eyes.

A smirk spread across your face as you leaned in to kiss his stubbled cheek, savoring the sensation of the little hairs tickling your lips.

Terry opened his eyes and gazed into yours. There seemed to be a lot going through his mind.

“You got me down bad, girl. I-I do miss you; even after you rejected me, I couldn't stop thinking of you. You hurt me a little bit, but I deserve it. I meant what I said before: I love you. I'm in love with you, baby girl, and I would do whatever it takes for another chance," Terry says sincerely.

“Then this is your chance to show me the best you know how. Fuck me like you never want to lose me again,” You said, leaning your forehead against his.

Terry didn't have to be told twice before he kissed you passionately, pulling you closer.

You both felt up each other's bodies, his hands grabbed your waist and pulled you to his lap.

Your tongues still danced swiftly with each other; Terry pulled away and began planting soft, lingering kisses on your neck.

"Terry!" you whined, feeling shivers down your spine. He lifted you and carefully laid you in the corner of the couch.

His gaze never left yours; he knelt down and pulled down your leggings, causing you to bite your lip.

"Shit...looks like this kitty misses me too? It's so wet, just waiting to be devoured" he asked in his sexy, deep voice.

"Yes...Terry! Now fucking eat it," You growled, pulling your soaking panties off before throwing them on his face, which made him chuckle.

You gasped, watching him lick at the wetness of your panties before tossing them to the side.

"Of course, beautiful. She's calling me," He said, kissing your inner thigh before slightly spreading your legs for him to lick up at your center, leaving you tingly.

You moaned in great pleasure, feeling him diving in like a hungry man, tongue thrusting in and out of you.

You gripped your plump breast firmly with your right hand while the other held the back of his head.

"So good, Terry. It feels good; eat this pussy Daddy" Legs rested on his shoulders as you whined, feeling him slurping hungrily at you.

It felt so damn good,

"Mmmm...you taste so sweet, baby." He moans before his fingers rub at your clit in rhythm to his licks.

Your pussy walls tightened as he pushed a finger inside of you, and your wall clenched around that finger.

His fingers were thrusting in and out of the right places, his tongue licking and sucking the life out of you.

"I bet he never made you feel like this, huh? Got you shaking and shit," he asked; his muffled words sent pleasure up your spine.

You threw your head, arching your back while a loud moan left you as you felt yourself getting close to climax.

"Ahh, never....Terry! You're the only man that makes me feel like this, the only man. Oh my...I'm gonna cum" You cried, feeling him focus all of his sucking your swollen, sensitive clit.

“That's right. Come on, baby, cum for me” He says, feeling you clutch onto his head. 

"Oh my god, Oh my…" You cut yourself off, feeling you cum harder than you have in a very long time. 

"Mmm, that's so good," Terry says with a smirk as your juices are all over his face, which makes you giggle. 

You and Terry removed the rest of the clothes you two wore, and you gasped, looking down at the sight of his big, throbbing dick.

It was much bigger than you remember, your mouth began drooling at the sight of it.

Terry began stroking himself before guiding it to slide up against your center.

You gently bit your lip and let him go for a moment, then stopped him and flipped him down onto the couch on his back.

Trail open-mouthed kisses along his neck, pausing to suck a hickey into his caramel skin.

You pulled away and took hold of both of his hands firmly, in one hand looking at him with a little bit of dominance.

"This dick is mine, right, Terry? No one else," You asked, looking into his eyes while firmly gripping his thickness in your hand.

Terry gazed at you with adoration and a hint of submissiveness. He understands your need for this, and he allowed it.

"Fuck, yes, baby, all yours. This dick is only for you," He said desperately, his tone conveying a desire for more from your hand.

"Nah...I need a little more than that, big daddy. You want this pussy; gotta beg for it," You whispered in his ear, slowly stroking him up and down.

"Baby, fuck, I need that pussy; I'mma crave it. Please, baby, what I gotta go," Terry pleaded intensely and urgently.

You could tell that he was enjoying just as much as you were, loving the desperation and needy look on his face.

"tsk tsk, tsk. I don't know, Terry," you said with a shrug, still stroking him but faster.

"Fuck, please...I need you so bad, baby girl fuck me, take whatever you want; I just need to feel that pretty pussy of yours," He moans profoundly and passionately.

You smiled, letting go of his hands before kissing him. You pulled away, sliding down on his dick, causing both of us to moan.

"Fuck, baby. You feel so good gripping my fucking dick with that pussy," Terry moaned, gripping your waist and watching you move up and down his member slowly.

You stop your movement, causing him to let out a low growl, and you giggle.

"I need you to fuck me, Terry. Fuck me until I forget my fucking name!" You whispered in his ear, and he lost it.

He began pounding, gripping your ass cheeks with both of his hands, lifting you up and down his dick.

You gripped thin air gasping, enjoying every minute of his dick pounding up inside your dripping, wet pussy.

Terry moved his hands to your waist, getting a better rhythm with his thrusting.

He smacked your ass in a harsh motion, "Just like this, right baby?"

"Fuck, yes, just like that, Daddy, oh fuck." You cried, throwing your head back, placing your hands on his chest.

Your plump breasts bounced wildly with every up and down motion.

Terry kisses you before wrapping his strong arms around your legs and lifting you from the couch.

His lustful eyes met your eyes dangerously while pounding in and out of you with this lift.

You can't help but chant his name out in a loud moan at the amazing sensation.

It might have been a minute, but Terry knew your body so well and understood what you wanted.

"I’m the only one who can make you feel this good, right?” He asked, panting heavily while holding your arm to your back.

“Yes, the only one, Daddy....ahh shit, fuck me," You cried, feeling yourself get a little emotional.

"Fuck, you're the best I ever had, you know that baby. I'mma treat you right this time cause you deserve the world" Terry says, kissing you, stopping his thrusting for a minute to lay you on your back on the couch.

Terry pulls away to hold both of your legs open, using them to help him thrust deep back into your pussy.

You moaned, licking your fingers, and started rubbing your clit in circles motion while looking deeply into his eyes.

"Ahhh, yes fuck me, Daddy! Ahhh, yes," You moaned, eyes rolling in the back of your head.

You unexpectedly felt a gust of fluid come out of you, making Terry pull out.

Your body was trembling from another intense climax that he had just given you.

"Shhh, I've gotcha ya, baby," He whispered, leaving small kisses on your neck.

Terry strokes your face softly, kissing your lips while watching you slowly come down from your high.

He kisses you again before turning your body around to face down on the arm of the couch with your ass up.

"Mmmm...Terry" You moaned, trying to plead with him, still trying to get your breathing under control.

"I'm getting much out of this pussy; I can, baby, you can do it." He says, thrusting hard into you.

He grabbed your box braids and fisted in one hand while he snapped his hips into your rear.

“Terry…fuck.” You whimpered, holding onto the couch arm for dear life.

He is determined to make you cum for a third time, so he keeps on pounding into you like a man on a mission.

“Take it, baby, take all over this dick,” Terry moans, grabs your neck, and tilts your head to look at him, arching your back harshly.

Your sweet spot gets hit repeatedly by his dick, making you clench around him and feel yourself closer to the edge.

"Fuck, baby, that's right....you wanna cum again, don't you? Clenching that dick for it," He asked, and you couldn't even form the words.

Tears began to fall from your eyes; it was too much to speak; it felt so damn good.

"Go ahead, baby girl, come on, cum on his dick, it's yours. Remember, make a mess, give it all to your daddy, sweetie." Terry moans, hammering his hips faster into your cunt.

"Terry" You screamed out his name, trembling as if you felt yourself cum on his dick.

"That's my sweet girl," He groaned, pulling out for a second, slapping his dick against your sensitive clit.

Terry pushes back in, three more deep thrusts, and cums with a low grunt, filling you up.

A few minutes later, he withdrew, lifted you up, and took you to the bathroom to clean up.

The two of you lay intertwined on the bed, bare and reveling in the delightful intimacy you two just shared.

"Hey," he called, glancing down at you. You sat up slightly, meeting his gaze with hope and vulnerability.

"I love you, baby, and I know I gotta lot work to do. I want to be better; I will be better. For you, for Jasmine, and for us," he said earnestly.

“I know...Terry...I believe you.” You said, reaching out and touching his cheek.

"We can figure this out one step at a time. It won't be easy, but I will try if you are."

"Of course," Terry nodded, a flicker of determination in his eyes. He gently squeezed your hand on his cheek.

You both knew it would take a lot of time and effort, but you remained hopeful about the possibility of healing and growth.

[ghosts-bandwagon]

can you do one where the reader has *terrible* periods (im talkin cramps, headaches, while nine yeards) but does their best to push through them and how 141 + ale, rudy, and konig react to them <3 (also i really do like the way you did your masterlist its v neat and put together)

Literally me every month 😭 this one’s for the nightmare period squad, I love y’all and I’m right there with you (thank you love!) (I’m sorry for leaving Rudy and Ale out, it’s a little much for me I’m so sorry 😭)

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

He’s pretty attuned to you, he has a sense when something’s up, so he decides to keep an eye on you throughout the day

You’re sweating a little more than usual and looking a little clammy when you’re on the treadmill (hoping beyond hope that working out will help) (… it doesn’t)

He’s watching you during the briefing, your hands are clenching your abdomen, your breathing is a little irregular, and your left eye twitches occasionally. You’re masking your discomfort and you’re doing it well enough to fool everyone else but him. He sees you make a detour to the clinic on base and walk out with a small heated water bottle pressed against your stomach

He stops by your room to see that your usual coffee is replaced with peppermint tea, the lights are dim, and you’re sitting at your desk, curled over the table with paperwork scattered under your head. He announced himself with a knock and you bolted upright, you winced almost immediately

“Easy love, it’s just me.” He chuckled, “Doin’ alright?” He eyed the tea and turned the bottle of pills in his hand,

“Of course, always.” You we’re out of breath, “Why?”

“Don’t make me ask.”

“Ugh fine. It’s my period, I’m sorry.” He tossed the bottle in his hands at you and you caught it not very gracefully.

“Don’t be. You’ve done more in your state than most of them do normally. Just… take a rest. Take your meds. You’ve done enough.”

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

He doesn’t really notice, you’re unfortunately good at hiding your symptoms (save for the obvious bleeding and the wrappers in the trash)

Honestly he’s amazed you can go about your day so effortlessly with all that going on

He’s watching you catch up on some chores when he starts to notice the wince in your eyes when you move a certain way, you’re putting away laundry fresh from the dryer and pressing the warm clothes tightly against your lower abdomen

You’re in the kitchen and you’re massaging your temples, breathing heavily, leaning against the counter, shaking your head and continuing with your task

“Alright, bonnie, that’s enough. Let get you set up.”

“Johnny, baby, I’m fine.”

“Sure ya are, I’m just taking care of that fine arse for you since you won’t.” He winked at you, he walked you back to bed, grabbing your heating pad and menstrual relief pills from the bathroom.

“Take it easy, hen, let’s get some movies going, yeah?”

John Price:

He knows your tells. Not only because he lives with you and sees the wrappers in the trash, but because he can feel the shift

You start to take on tasks that you’d normally pass on, whether it’s to prove to him or yourself that you can muscle through it

You don’t need to prove anything to him sweetheart, he knows how strong you are, just let him take care of you

He tells you as much but you wave him away and continue with what you were doing

He gets a little frustrated because he knows you’re suffering, he knows how hard your periods hit you, just let him help you damn it

So he sets up a little trap, he asks you to help him in the bedroom, and being the big strong girl you are, you go in ready to help but he wrap you in a big blanket and swings you over his shoulder, he set you down on the bed, tucked under the blankets, half-heartedly glaring at him.

“Rest, darling, please.”

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:

He knows how bad your periods are and he doesn’t let you move an inch out of bed, he’s super doting, and he spoils you absolutely rotten

Even if you insist you can muscle through it, he won’t let you

Dishes need to be done? He’s got it. Groceries? Instacart that mf. Laundry? Say no more queen. Gotta make dinner? No you don’t.

He’s got your heating pad cranked up as high as you need it to be, your comfort show or movie is playing and he’s got your meds and some water ready for you when you need

Period care king tbh.

König:

Schatz please, you only make it worse, he knows that and you know that, but he’ll always remind you

He lets you press on about your day, doing whatever you can to distract yourself from the pain, but as soon as he sees you clutch your stomach and double over when you think he can’t see you, he steps

“Liebling, please you’re hurting me.”

“König, don’t start.” You sighed exasperated, he’s willing to deal with a lot but when it comes to your well-being, he doesn’t fuck around,

“Beg your pardon, schatz?”

Oops.

“Fine. Do your worst.” You relented, he smiled mockingly at you (not in a malicious way),

“That’s what I thought.”

You’re buried under blankets, your electric heating pad spread over your abdomen, water and medicine is on your nightstand, and you’re so grateful König knows you as well as he does.

[0mysteiarchives]

Within their not-so-angelic prescence .

• Robin , Sunday

"Don't be afraid my dear." "...Actually i'm very much afraid-"

AN: I'm cooking for myself and the robin and sunday devotees frfr !! Also thanks for blowing up my last two posts :3

warning: yandere themes, and possibly ooc?

• Congratulations! You were cursed with two angelic yanderes completely infatuated with you! How do you feel about that?? I'm pretty sure the fangirls and fanboys would love to be in your place.

• Honestly how you ended up like this can be every single possibility imaginable. Whether you end up as one of Robin's crew members, Sunday's work assistant, or literally just being some random stranger walking down the bustling street as both of them stroll around. In any case you'll be the main attention of their curiosity. (ig you're just that pretty idk what to tell yall)

• Obviously the siblings will talk to each other about this feeling towards someone they barely know, but at the end of the day siblings share! Maybe a bit of bickering or two but it'll be alright! They've got everything at their disposal to bring you to them.

If you ever hear a knock on your door, or see the BloodHound family members following you outside, don't bother about that!

• Now that they have you in their grasp, first thing you'll be forced to do is public appearance! Why? Because then everyone will know you belong to them! Robin takes you out to her interviews and exposing you to the paparazzi. Occasionally she'll be sneaky, getting a bit too intimately close to your face and give you a small peck on your cheek as the crowd goes wild. Sunday wrapping an arm around your waist and inching you closer to him as he knows that the public will start rumors about you, him and his sister.

You're fine with that right? I mean, it's not like you had a choice anyway.

• In terms of affection, Robin is a bit more affectionate than Sunday. Most of her interactions are genuine and soft that would lull you into a sense of comfort. If you ever tend to push her away or close yourself off from her, it's fine! Love takes time and Robin will eventually get you to love her just like she loves you.

= Sunday however, can be dependent on how you act. Don't get it wrong though, he's sweet and genuinely loves you just as much as his sister does. But if you won't comply with his requests and continue being stubborn, then maybe punishments are in order... It'll be fine! Robin will convince him not to be too harsh on you!

• What? You don't like how suffocating it feels? You're trying to leave their side? No can do! The siblings are influential after all, they have control over your image to the public brought down in a matter of seconds! Have the people corner you with numerous and uncomfortable questions! Maybe they'll blackmail you with your own family and friends..

= Still not giving in? They'll just have a custom made dreamscape to trap you in! You'll be running through the Reverie hallways, and suddenly end up in an unknown location you have never seen before. As long as you give up and come back into their arms you'll be able to return safely under their protection.

Don't run off okay? They'll wipe your tears and embrace you tight, wrap you between their graceful wings to blind you from the wicked manipulation in play.

—

Robin will be your best comfort, Sunday will be your best protection.

Just don't be fooled by their sweet, intoxicating words..

Not all angels are as innocent as they seem, remember?

[thrashkink-coven]

Genuine Red Flags in Spiritual Books, Grimoires, Occult Teachers or Mentors

Very often I see folks talking about things they consider to be red flags for beginners when entering witchy or occult spaces. Here are a few of the things that I’ve noticed over the years that will immediately make me put down a book or step away from a practitioner.

1. Claiming they know every thing about every sect of spirituality / occultism or witchcraft

Simply put, there is no one person who knows the deep inner workings of every craft, of every philosophy, of every practice. The guru that claims to know everything from Reiki to Jewish Mysticism to Native American Spirituality to Voodoo to Acupuncture to Chakra Healing, Tarot, Herb Wizardy, Alchemy, etc etc etc. No. They are lying. Even the most dedicated and wise practitioners devote years into understanding a philosophy or spiritual practice. And especially in regards to closed practices, it is impossible for one person to have read and done it all. Either they are straight up lying or presenting brief skimming over texts or conversation as “years of experience and practice”. No.

2. Constantly trying to convince the reader that they are a God, deity or some inhuman creature like a cosmic elf, mermaid, or angel

Now I don’t mean to confuse this with the idea that some Luciferian or Satanic spaces may adopt that all humans are gods in their own right, or you are the god of your own existence. I’m talking specifically about books that try to convince you that you’re actually a lost race of alien who has been trapped in a human body, or has been mistaken into believing they are human. I’m not going to get into my opinions on star seeds or deity ancestry, what I will say is that very often, and I mean uncomfortably often, these ideas are intrinsically tied to supremacist or xenophobic rhetoric You do not have to be an angel to be special and cosmically significant. You don’t have to be an elf to explore herbal magic, people who push these ideas are very frequently praying on those with delusions of grandeur or other dissociative mental disorders and that’s not cool.

3. Using pseudoscience to push miracle remedies. This includes denying things that are provable to push a narrative, like the fact medication can help the mentally ill.

My dears, please fact check what you read. Please see what educated people have to say about these authors before you take everything they say at face value. As many problems and rightful distrust as there is in the medical industry, usually, if a concoction is commonly dismissed by 99% of medical professionals, it’s usually not because they’re trying to cover up the holy grail, it’s because they know it’s… probably not that good for you or simply doesn’t do what it claims.

4. Trying to convince the reader that with enough practice, willpower, and a donation of $9.99 per month, you too can obtain some incredible power that will allow you to airbend, waterbend, firebend, and basically defy all the laws of physics in general!

The point of most occultism, spirituality and witchcraft is not to defy the laws of physics or to obtain some godly power. There most certainly exists the belief in many sects of spirituality that one can influence their reality through training, but I promise you, anybody that is promoting that they can walk on water is trying to make a fool out of you

5. Inability to disagree, contest, or dissent from the opinions of the mentor, teacher, high priest(ess) or leader

This is how cults form, guys. Confirmation bias is a hell of a drug. If the presentation of different ideas or even questions are met with harsh backlash and censorship, you need to get the fuck out of there.

6. Them automatically making the assumption within a very short time of meeting you, usually presented as psychic intuition, that you are suffering and have a “deep sadness” or energy blockage in your soul that only they can fix.

I understand that damaged people often seek mediums and whatnot for help, and sometimes it genuinely brings them ease, that’s fine and good. But so often I have been approached by people online that claim that “the angels have a really important message for me that they can only give after they’ve received an epayment of just a few dollars”. These are obviously scams, but often people who have been trusted for a reading or service in the past will fabricate these stories to trap a costumer in a loop of service. Some of these claims may be genuine but I guarantee you most are not.

7. Sprinkles of Fascism

No you are not superior to other people because you’re spiritually “enlightened”. No you should not separate groups of people or decide who should and shouldn’t procreate. No mainstream society is not being being deceived by the devil, and the devil is not more prevalent in any one group of people, sex, sexuality, gender, or race. You are not the only enlightened one in a world full of lost people. Mentally ill folks are not demons and trans people aren’t energetically unaligned. You will not inherit the Earth while everyone else dies. Uuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhh shut the fuck up.

8. The claim that ancient societies of people were aliens. Presenting hoaxes and proven scams as evidence of a conspiracy.

This includes things like using documented hoaxes as evidence that aliens built the pyramids. I’m going to be so for real with you guys rn. This is just racism. It’s insane to think the Egyptians were smart enough to build the society they literally lived in, but nobody doubts the validity of the Roman Empire. Crazy concept but maybe Indigenous people of color aren’t savage idiots. And maybe white people aren’t the only ones capable of having societies and interesting architecture. The thing about this that annoys me the most is that… Egyptians still exist today, and the ancestry that dates back to ancient Mesopotamia and Canaan still exist today too. These were human beings, just like us. The alienation of black and brown people proves how little some people see us as normal people.

9. The promotion of practices that are directly harmful. Self mutilation, disorderly eating, or rituals that can induce psychosis or states of mania.

Guess what you actually don’t have to sit on a mountain naked and eat nothing but sunlight to be enlightened. You can definitely do religious or devotional things like fasting within a healthy degree, but I so so often see people promoting things that will very obviously lead to mania and hallucinations just by design. Starving yourself for two weeks while constantly blasting mantras and doing a bunch of psychedelics isn’t enlightenment… it’s a manic episode. While some devotees may feel comfortable offering blood to deities, this should always be in very small ways, a needle poke, not self mutilation.

10. Trying to do business with minors or promote occult topics to children specifically

Just no. I really dislike the idea of selling spells or promoting deity communication to kids still in grade school. They’re trying to manipulate a young mind into believing their dogma or spending their parent’s money. If a parent wants to share their craft with their child, that’s cool, but people who specifically target a younger audience are suspect to me. This isn’t to say spirituality isn’t for kids, it’s just that content that is created for kids is often created to be surface level and profitable in the algorithm.

11. Shitting on New Age Spirituality

Yeah I said it. This to me feels very much like a let’s hate on anything women, especially young women enjoy. Let’s delegitimize their experiences and paint them all as ditzy girls just clanging their crystals together.

There are some things that New Age Spiritualists do that I’m not a fan of, all of the things in this list. However, that doesn’t make this form of spirituality and witchcraft any less legitimate just because it’s somewhat trendy right now. Go fucking howl at the moon and have bon fires with your besties while you do tarot and talk about angel numbers, I don’t give a fuck.

New Age spiritualists aren’t inherently doing anything wrong or different than what ancient cultures have been doing for centuries, it’s just trendy and profitable now. But anything that young women enjoy will inevitably be exploited by the capitalist machine and that is not their fault. Wicca is still a legitimate form of spirituality and witches are not inherently doing anything wrong by being young women. So much of the criticism against NAS is literally just misogyny.

“I’m not into new age spirituality I’m a REAL witch”

omg please shut up

[flaresemily]

Mononoke Chapter 2

Bakeneko Arc - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

"For cutting down Mononoke" Kusuriuri finished.

"Y-you insolent fool!!!"

"Still talking that nonsense!!!

"What Mononoke!? How dare you!!"

"Shut up, my husband said nothing wrong!! And he is right, a Mononoke does exist, and so did ayaka---- "

Before Y/n could finish her sentence Yoshikuni cut her off.

"What's the trick of this" he asks while trying to open the sword of exorcism.

"There's no trick for that..."

"And no hidden mechanism either"

Then Odajima tries to open it while Yoshikuni interrogates Kusuriuri and Y/n .

"Can you unsheathe it?"

"It is not possible yet"

"Not yet, huh??"

Then Kusuriuri began to explain.

"First one must know its form, the truth, and the regret of the Mononoke to unsheathe the sword."

"You are an interesting man"

Then something fell out of Y/n ’s kimono. No one noticed it of course except for Y/n and Kusuriuri.

The 'thing' begin to move and slowly slither it’s way out of the room with success

"Not at all... there's nothing remarkable about me"

"I can't stand this anymore, to the guard house with him!!" He pointed the sword of exorcism to Kusuriuri

"You can't do that!!" The man with orange haori spoke up again

"Master Katsuyama!!"

"This matter is of great concern to our house."

Then they heard a woman shriek. All of them turn to the sound.

There they saw Lady Mizue passed out while Sato was trying to wake her up.

"Hey! Call a doctor!"

"Yahei"

"Sir!"

"Call doctor Tsubouchi to the house"

"Yes sir"

"Hold it Yahei" Kusuriuri spoke

"You better not step outside" he adds

"The barrier isn't complete yet" he continues,

"Shut up, enough!!" Katsuyama says

"Listen, don't say anything unnecessary" Katsuyama adds

Oh how Y/n wanted to strangle this man to death, how she wishes she could turn him into her plaything, and make him drown in her newly made poison.

Kusuriuri notices the aura his wife is giving out so the only thing he could do is calm her down by looking at her.

Even when he truly wishes to hold her and caress her bump but...that can wait.

She noticed him looking at her and understood the meaning.

"Just tell him Lady Mizue is ill and bring him here.”

"Yes sir!"

Thus, he walked away.

The atmosphere in the room didn't change...Y/n is still feeling uncomfortable because of the rope that has been tied around her growing stomach and it kept hurting her.

"Send a messenger to the Shiono family"

"My lord, it's still early for that"

"Why?"

"What would they think if they learned about Lady Mao's sudden death."

At this point Y/n had stopped listening to the conversation and started to concentrate on the 'thing' she sent out earlier.

And that 'thing' is her pet...snake.

It was a gift given to her by her uncle and she named it Kio.

With the snake

As it slither its way out and around the house...it didn't sense anything around it. Until, he tried to take a little look at the 'bride' . That was when he finally noticed that behind the old man...

Was a suspicious wall.

'Why can I feel the wind from it?' that was what it thought.

So it slither its way 'inside' the wall and what he found isn't very good...

Sadly it was cut short by noise from outside the wall.

(The snake kinda has the same power like chachamaru?? From demon slayer)

When the snake was about to slither its way out...it couldn't...as if it was trapped.

Outside

Y/n immediately knew something was wrong because she could see 'it'. Just then, they heard a bell ringing.

"Is Yahei back? Why is he taking so long" Katsuyama questioned.

"The doctor probably has many other things to attend to," a man with green haori says.

"Our problem is serious!! I don't care about his other matters!!"

'Ego much, those things will only get you killed...serve you right, that's what you get for shouting at my husband!'

Y/n was smiling happily on the outside, to the point her husband smiled a bit as if knowing what she was thinking about.

As they keep fighting Y/n nose has started to pick up some 'unwelcome' smell that makes her want to vomit. Kusuriuri moves a bit to kneel by her side and whispers to her.

"Do you see anything unusual?"

".....no...but I--"

Before she could finish her sentence, Kusuriuri had already moved his attention to Odajima.

Then suddenly a lot of droplets of blood suddenly came down from the roof. Kusuriuri's eyes widened at the sight.

And before anything else could happen Kusuriuri appeared in front of Odajima and kicked him in the stomach.

There...a figure fell down...and it was Yahei.

A scream was let out. And before Y/n knew it she was breathing heavily because of the sight it was too....gory for her body to handle

"Where did he come from" the man with green haori said before looking above but there was no sign of any hole being made.

"It's coming," Kusuriuri said before ripping the rope like it was nothing.

"You!!!" Before Odajima could attack him...he was stopped by the sword of exorcism in front of him.

He quickly put all his talisman around the room and quickly untied the rope around Y/n before resuming putting the talisman around every room and every corner of the room.

If Y/n could witness the way he put the talisman she surely will laugh and tease him about it but sadly she can't because apparently the blood makes her feel sick. It was a nuisance to her.

"It is dangerous to be alone...you are better off with someone" he added before putting the talisman at the last room where the corpse of lady Mao and the master was put.

Then he walks to Y/n side and kneels before giving her something to eat.

Y/n was shocked because she didn't expect her husband to have some food on him. On top of that just the food that she's been craving a lot...and that is....onigiri with banana in it, along with tuna of course.

Y/n happily ate it and there were atleast 5 to 6 onigiri with the same flavor, don't ask how he had it...he just did. I mean... anything for his wife.

There were scratching sounds. And all the talismans have started to change from white to black to red.

"Don't worry it cannot enter"

"It??"

Y/n who was still eating is trying to inform her husband about what her snake Kio found out, but sadly her mouth is too full, and she’d rather eat a lot and become fat rather than informing the news.

Because to her....food is much more important than anything.

Flashback

There was one time when they faced a 'stronger' Mononoke. Her husband was having a hard time finding out the 'truth' and 'regret' and almost got himself killed while his own wife was happily eating all the food that is served on the dining table.

Luckily or unluckily....the Mononoke had hit the table where Y/n was still eating and she was not happy about it that she literally cursed at the Mononoke to the point it couldn't handle her 'nagging'. Y/n also used her 'power' to hold that Mononoke down so it wouldn't escape her. She had it in a death grip.

It quickly tells Kusuriuri what it's 'truth' and 'regret' is and bam!! The Mononoke is gone... sadly it's up to Kusuriuri to satisfy his wife who is now poor. That~ lead her to get pregnant. =)

Back to the story....

The whole room shakes while Y/n try to cover her precious baby a.k.a the food.

Then suddenly Odajima spoke.

"I don't know what tricks you are playing but I'm going to get to the bottom of this!!" He then proceeded to open the door.

Kusuriuri's eyes widened

Before he could do anything, Y/n ran past him and pulled Odajima by his collar then quickly sealed the door with the talisman Kusuriuri gave her before getting tied up in case of an emergency.

As soon as Y/n seals the door...it stops shaking.

"It's presence has faded"

"What was that!?"

"I couldn't see it's form"

Y/n sighed and Kusuriuri looked at them.

"I told you, it's a Mononoke" he said

"If you humans truly have brain you surely would know already dumbass"

Y/n add before walking to her husband with a twinkle in her eyes and a 'my dear beloved otto do you have more food' look.

Kusuriuri just looks at his wife and sighs.

"If you step outside the barrier you become a prey of it" Kusuriuri continued

"But of course the barrier won't hold it for long~" Y/n smirk at Odajima’s scared figure.

"If we leave it as if...then we end up like them" he gestures to the dead people in the room such as Yahei and Lady Mao.

"The Mononoke should be cut down...but in order for the sword of exorcism to unsheathe the condition must be met" he says kneeling In front of Odajima.

"The form, truth and regret must be displayed In front of the sword."

"First the form" he says and takes something off from Odajima haori.

"Fur??" Odajima asks

"It's a ghost cat," Kusuriuri answered.

Then, the sword made a small 'tink' sound, indicating that it was the correct answer to the 'form' of the Mononoke.

"The interviewed fates of men gave it's form"

"So I ask everyone" he slowly lifted the sword and showed it to everyone.

"To tell me the truth and regret" he finishes.

".... Kusuriuri" Y/n begin

"Yes my love?" He ask

"I'm hungry" Y/n add

Everyone was silence...until

"Hey, I'm about to drink sake," Yoshikuni says.

"Someone get me some more!"

No one moves....

"Sato!" He shouted.

"Yes right away!!" Sato replies before she adds.

"Kayo go and get it!!!"

"Eh!!!"

"Hurry, go and fetch the good sake!! You know where we keep it"

"I-i don't want to"

"What do you mean!!"

"he asked you to get it!!!!"

Kayo shivers in fear, "I don't want to leave this room."

"How dare you talk back to me!!"

Kusuriuri started to walk towards the exit.

Odajima notices him.

"Hey!! Where do you think you're going?"

"Kusuriuri!!" Y/n add

"I need some salt" he stop "I might as well get the sake too"

"Let me go with you Kusuriu---" Y/n was cut off

"No need...you can stay here...you must be tired from all the walking with your swollen feet..." He assured her.

"Okay...be careful" Y/n added not before accidentally seeing Kayo blushing at her husband's statement.

"Don't move unless I tell you so!!" Odajima says get up.

"It will come for us again..."

"I need to be ready for it."

"No way!! Stay put!!" Odajima shouted.

While Y/n was thinking a hundred ways to remind Kayo about Kusuriuri being her husband. Also couldn't she see that Y/n was heavily pregnant or something? I mean....her stomach is bigger than normal even when she was just 5 months along.

"You haven't earned my trust yet!!"

"Then why don't you come with me?"

He carries his wooden ‘box’.

"I’d appreciate it if you do"

"Sure I will!!"

"I'm sorry that I'm foiling your one and only chance to escape," Odajima states proudly.

"I'm opening it" he removed the talisman that his own wife put on.

"I'm sure I am lucky to have a bodyguard." He smirks that only Y/n notice because of her sharp eyes.

"Then I'm going as well," Kayo states.

Well...that did make Y/n ’s blood boil.

"I want to come too Kusuriuri!!" She says not to give up.

"Y/n ...." He kneels in front of her and pat her head.

"Protect them in the meantime...I can only trust you to make sure no one...gets out of this room okay" he smiled at her.

Y/n only pouted at her husband's answer and sadly nodded.

"Fine...I will protect them..."

Now for Y/n pov (not really her pov)

As Y/n waited for her husband to return, she just sat on the floor caressing her pregnant stomach.

"Lady....you truly believe him?" Yoshikuni ask

(‼️‼️This did not happen in anime just what I created to happen for this book‼️‼️)

"What do you mean??" Y/n ask

"Your husband is out with a female...are you not afraid?? Or scared??" He taunts her.

"No he will never cheat!!"

"I never said anything about cheating..." He smirks as if he caught her in the act.

Y/n flinch from his statement.

"What I was saying is... aren't you scared he might get killed?? That's my real question...never guessed you'd say anything about cheating " he finished then laughed out loud.

"You human...be lucky that I was here to protect all of you!!! If it wasn't for him you all would be dea---" Y/n fought back.

"Now, now, lady...is that a way to speak to the 'elderly' "

Y/n could only pray that her husband would return quickly because she was this close to killing Yoshikuni and everyone here.

"But...that could possibly happen right?? The cheating part" he added.

And there was it...the final point...

"You piece of shi----!!!!"

🦋

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T.B.C

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(Otto - Husband)

Yay another chapter done.... first time writing a long chapter 😅😅 sorry for any grammar mistake

[yanderambling]

thank you both so much!! i decided to mix these up a bit so have Adrian being jealous over reader bullying someone else (and then doing something about it...)! i hope you like~ also: i changed the gif for... reasons, sorry lol i swear this won't be a thing okay bye enjoy <3

pairing: Masochist Puppyboy!Yandere(m) x Bully!Reader(gn)

words: ~ 2.2k

you can read the original post here!

CW: 18+, yandere behavior, bullying, physical/verbal abuse, breaking/entering, violence, mild gore, suggestive shit too ygi

Adrian watches in stunned horror as you crowd another student against the wall of the school hallway.

You lean your face close to theirs, some sweet poison dripping from your tongue, and they laugh nervously. They keep pressing back against the wall, as if they want to get away from you.

What an idiot. Doesn’t this moron see that they're being blessed in this moment? Don't they know that others would kill to be in their position?

Adrian feels the wooden bento box lid crack under his fingers.

He'd struggled not to assume the worst when you hadn't been at your spot to pick it up today, but now he just feels like a fool for harboring hope.

How could this happen? How could you do this to him? How could this person be more important than his homemade lunch? Than him? Have you gotten bored of him already? What does this dimwit have to offer you that he doesn't?

He's standing in front of you before he realizes he'd moved.

It's even harder to watch up close- your sparkling, predatory eyes tracking every uncomfortable shift of your victim, your body closing them in, making them feel trapped.

Oh, how Adrian aches to be your prey again.

Luckily, it only takes few seconds of awkward hovering before you register his presence.

"Oh- ha, shit. Hey," You tap the other student's shoulder, despite their full attention already being on you, "you've met my mutt, right? Just a sec."

You turn to face him, one hand still on the wall just above the other student's shoulder. Adrian blessedly can't focus on it over the euphoric mantra of my mutt my mutt my mutt echoing in his head.

Your fingers brushing over his as you snatch the lunch away is just enough to break him out of it.

"Great, fuck off now." You turn back to the other student as you jam the box into your bag.

No.

No no no no no.

That can't be it. He can't just leave you here to be swept away by some bland bambi wannabe, resigning him to forever trailing behind, vying for the scraps of your cruelty. No, he can't have that. He can't live off of that.

Stricken by a new sense of panic, Adrian can do little more than remain uncertainly by your side, leveling an unnerving glare at the other student as he imagines every single way he'd like to take them out of the equation.

"I like this jacket." You remark with an infuriatingly flirtatious edge.

"Th-thanks." The student stutters, flinching when you pick an imaginary piece of lint off their arm. Adrian clenches his hands into fists. "Uh, it was a birthday gift, from- from my parents."

A knowing smirk curls your lips as you nod in faux interest (Adrian can tell). "Yeah? Looks expensive. I wonder what else your folks got you?"

The other student starts to look even more uncomfortable, shifting on their feet as their eyes dart around in search of an escape route.

Oh. So that's your plan, skim off their birthday haul? Of course.

Now that he thinks about it, Adrian recalls that this student is somewhat notorious for having wealthy parents- but, hell, Adrian's parents are definitely richer than theirs! Why didn't you just come to him? (Because you have no idea; he certainly doesn't dress like it, he walks to school, and it's not like you pay him too much mind outside of the lunches and entertainment he provides anyway.)

"I can give you money."

You slowly turn your head to face him, a dangerous edge to the movement that sends a thrill down Adrian's spine.

"Did you not hear me before? I said fuck off."

Adrian's gut clenches unpleasantly, torn between his instinct to obey you and his desire to stay the object of your attention.

The latter wins out pretty quickly.

"...no."

Your entire demeanor shifts.

A manic, incredulous sort of smile spreads across your face as the challenge fully registers. Adrian notices your unoccupied hand flexing beside you as you turn to face him fully. He doesn't think he's ever seen you look so wild, so feral. The force of your stare is enough to have him cowering, ears flattening as his tail tucks firmly between his legs (more to hide his tenting crotch than out of fear).

Your voice is menacingly level as you say,

"The fuck did I just hear?"

Adrian is pretty sure his heart has stopped beating.

He's completely frozen, his throat clicking as he struggles for something, anything to say, to get that intense glare off him but also please dear god don't look away-

"Uh- I, ah- I- I didn't- um-"

Brrrriinngg!

Adrian flinches as the bell rings, and he just barely sees the other student ducking under your arm and scurrying off to class.

"Fuck!"

You slam your fist into the concrete wall, causing Adrian to flinch again, though he stays rooted to his spot in front of you.

"See what you did? Stupid fucking mutt..."

You shove past him roughly, and the pain of his shoulder colliding with the wall is beautifully complemented by the residual warmth of your body against his.

He watches in shock as you stalk down the hall and disappear from sight.

He can't believe he did that. He can't believe he's still standing. He wonders what would've happened if the bell hadn't rung, if you two hadn't been on school grounds...

A shiver surges through his body at the thought, and he has to physically shake himself to return his mind to the issue at hand.

Crisis averted.

For now.

Throughout the day, you corner that student exactly five more times. Adrian manages to interfere with every single one.

It's at the end of the school day, after you've told him off rather disappointingly for getting involved again (and you don't even give him a good punch for his trouble), that Adrian decides he needs a more permanent solution.

It isn't hard to follow your new target home, god knows he's had plenty of practice, and their security's not much trouble either. It's remarkably robust for a home system, but Adrian is a lonely nerd with too much time on his hands and practical experience. Dismantling it takes less than an hour.

Once he's inside, it's just a matter of scribbling a threatening note in unidentifiable handwriting (stating, in no uncertain terms, that they shouldn't even think of going near you again if they know what's good for them), hiding in their closet to take polaroids of them asleep, removing a lock of their hair to attach to the note alongside the polaroids, and leaving it all on their desk for them to find in the morning.

He's got it down to a science at this point.

The rest of his night is spent outside your window, watching you sleep and wishing things would go back to normal.

When it's still only your friends at your usual spot the next morning, Adrian feels disappointment weigh him down for the rest of his walk.

But, when he gets to school, he sees you openly scanning the hallways. Alone, no new victim in sight.

It seems they're trying to listen, at least. Emboldened by the lack of competition, Adrian hurriedly brings you your lunch.

You still dismiss him almost immediately.

He's tempted to defy you again, if only for you to give him a second glance, but he really doesn't think he could handle the rush again this soon.

Instead, he watches from a distance as you continuously try to track your new target down, and they consistently evade you.

He has to commend their effort- going to classes without textbooks, hiding in every nook and cranny when you passed, they even ate their lunch in the bathroom- it's looking like they might just be able to comply.

Until school lets out, and you catch them sneaking around the back.

"Hey! You have not been easy to find. If I didn't know better, I'd say you're avoiding me."

Adrian stays hunkered in the shadows as the other student stiffens and slowly turns to face you.

"Leave me alone."

The demand is so quiet, it's mostly lost to the ambient hum of the town around you.

You pull a familiar smirk and sidle closer to them, confidence emanating from your every movement. "What was that?"

They suddenly stumble backwards, just barely saving themself from overbalancing as they shout,

"Leave me alone!"

Your eyes widen at the outburst, and Adrian notices you checking for new witnesses as you raise your hands defensively.

"Woah, woah, what's the-"

"Just- just leave me alone! I know who you are, okay? I-I know what kind of person you are, the- the things you do, and I don't- I don't want anything to do with you! Okay? Or- or your creepy fucking friend, either!"

"My wha-?"

"I don't- None of it! Listen- my-my mom's a lawyer, you know? She could have you arrested for-for harassment, or worse! So just- just leave me alone!"

They turn and flee before you can get another word out.

You're left standing stunned, your hands clenching into fists as you fully process this rejection, this humiliation, this complete and utter undermining of your power.

You can't just go after them, you're not willing to test that whole "lawyer mom" claim, but every second you spend idle stokes the fury smoldering within you.

You need to purge it. You need to take it out on something.

Adrian steps around the corner.

"You."

That one word is enough to make him melt into a puddle.

He's helpless to do anything but stare wide-eyed as you storm over to him. He doesn't even brace himself for the punch, falling to the ground with a sharp groan.

"What the fuck did you do? Huh? What'd you do you little fucking creep?"

You punctuate each question with a kick to his prone form, forcing him to release a litany of moans containing equal parts pain and ecstasy.

This, this is how it's supposed to be; your undivided attention on him, your complete focus on touching him, on making him feel. He's the only one you should want to treat like this, to devote your time, your energy, your passion to.

"Can't keep your fucking nose out of my business, can you?" Another kick. Adrian keens. "Is this what you wanted? Are you happy now, you stupid mutt?"

Yes yes yes.

Another kick, this one landing somewhere on his head. As he feels blood trickle into his eye, Adrian briefly wonders if he's died and gone to heaven.

A solid foot to his stomach tells him he's very much still alive, but with it comes a heady lightness spreading throughout his whole body. Another and he feels like he's floating on the high of your touch, your anger, like he could sink into it and be wrapped up in the warmth of your rage. Another and his vision starts to white out. He's known no greater pleasure in life than surrendering to your furious whims, nothing else has ever felt so right. He wants nothing more than to stay like this forever.

Then the kicking stops.

Adrian instinctively whines at the loss, a high whimper lingering in the back of his throat as his head shoots up to search for you.

You're already stomping away, still muttering quiet curses (though Adrian can't hear them over the blood rushing in his ears) and too far off to catch his pitiful mewling. He doesn't take his eyes off you until you round a corner, and even then his gaze helplessly lingers on the space you had occupied.

He stays laying there long after you leave, blissfully basking in the afterglow of your abuse (he doesn't think his shaking legs would support him for awhile anyway). It isn't until he hears a car start nearby that he forces himself, ever so slowly, to make his way home.

He sneaks in with little trouble, rushing to the bathroom to hide away and admire your handiwork.

Deep, angry bruises are already forming all over his skin, some home to lightly bleeding cuts. Adrian presses on each one as he finds them, committing them to memory as he bites his cheek to keep quiet (it's a losing battle).

Loathe as he is to disfigure your art, he knows you won't have the chance to create more if someone finds out (nobody else could possibly understand the bond you share, so intimate and complex as it is), so he begrudgingly cleans the wounds and patches himself up.

It's a familiar process, almost habit by now, and after the bandages and makeup and careful positioning of clothing, nobody would suspect he'd so much as tripped.

But he knows.

He reminds himself every other second while he's camped outside your house that night, methodically fidgeting with every injury as he works his way across his body. He unconsciously applies extra force against the bruises littering his thighs, unable to tear his gaze from your sleeping face.

He wants to do more (god does he want to), but he can't. He could never.

Not without you.

He'll simply have to settle for torturing himself in the meantime, refreshing your marks so they stay effective, just until you get another chance to do it yourself.

When he sees you at your spot the next day (now carrying a lot of extra cash on the off-chance you decide to empty his pockets), he doesn't even try to stop his tail from wagging.

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

check my pinned post ~

[wrengrif]

I rub my hands together..

Because I am having more Thoughts.

Big thanks to @badaziraphaletakes for pointing out the fucking obvious to me.

We talk a lot in this fandom about trauma, how Heaven and Hell leaves different kinds of psychological, and physical scars on our angel and demon. Mostly though, we focus on the psychological damage that comes from Heaven and the physical torture that comes from Hell. I am of the belief that Heaven and Hell drop a lot of both on their environs, but that's a post for a different day.

Trauma isn't that simple, though. It doesn't matter what kind you face, your reaction to it is going to fall under animal instinct. What is truly horrifying is the realization that Crowley's and Aziraphale's gut reactions are completely the opposite of what their Bosses are.

When Crowley feels like he, or Aziraphale is in danger, instead of fangs out, he's looking for the nearest escape route. The easiest way to make the problem go away. He runs away -- but of course he runs away. If he doesn't run away, he's going to be tortured. He is going to receive physical damage for making a mistake. So flight is the best option. The ability to get away, to think of how to avoid that pain, one way or another, is so Crowley-coded. I've always stated that Crowley is the strategist, the one who makes the complicated plans. He takes himself away from the problem, so he can analyze the problem. He runs away, and then he turns back. Once he has enough physical safe space, he can sit back and look to see what can be done.

He never had a chance to do that really in the last days of Armageddon, because Hell was nipping right on his heels and he had to keep retreating. Until he was put in a corner, and then you saw the Serpent come out. His fear of pain lasts until he is more afraid of losing his life, or Aziraphale. For example, the bucket of holy water. Walking into a consecrated church. Walking into a burning bookshop. The M25 - he literally drove Right Into The Fire, even with Hastur there because he had to get to Aziraphale and he had to survive driving through a ring of fire. Crowley runs from pain, but that doesn't stop him from attacking if he's got no other options.

Aziraphale is the opposite. His trauma is one I am well acquainted with, and that is psychological abuse, and torture. Don't let it fool you - just because you aren't having someone hurt you with a screwdriver doesn't mean it's any less devastating to your body, much less your mind. What Heaven does is use Fear. Fear like a scalpel, or a baseball bat to your knees. The Fear of Falling, the Fear of being considered Unworthy of God's love. The Fear of being considered less than your fellow angels, although you'll always be lesser than archangel. Fear of being yourself, fear of being anything less than perfect. All the fucking time. Nothing can save you, but us, and if you turn against us, you're screwed. Aziraphale, though, he doesn't run. He's never run. He's a Guardian. A Principality. He held a flaming sword and he held it well. Oh, he will bald-face lie to God, to archangels, to Crowley, but he doesn't run. He will try to find a way out of it with the most convoluted stories. He'll smile, look pleasant and distant and not quite there. Don't notice me. Don't worry about me. I'm not doing anything wrong for you to hurt me. Only thing he fears more than Heaven is Hell, and he's not even scared of Hell as a concept, but as a fact of Hell will hurt Crowley. Hell will take Crowley away. Hell will reach up and snatch Crowley away in a heartbeat and there isn't anything Aziraphale can do about it. Fear, fear, fear. Yet he doesn't run. He fights. He fights with words, and when there's nothing left with that, he fights with his wits, and then when he has no more left of that - he stands his ground with a weapon. A sword. A halo. His own physical body, if necessary.

Where am I going with all this?

That Season 3 is going to be You Reap What You Sow. Crowley is trapped in his misery and he can't run from it, because Aziraphale is in danger. Aziraphale is trapped and afraid, and he can't do anything about it because they'll hurt Crowley. What neither Heaven or Hell has realized yet - and I especially mean Heaven in this juncture -- is that they haven't given Crowley or Aziraphale any choices. They've been trapped in a corner by both of their abusers.

Their abusers who have never seem to learn the lesson that if you trap Crowley and Aziraphale in a corner, they're going to turn around and bite. Bite as hard as they possibly can - just to protect one another.

[itsabouttimex2]

Hope you’ve been well! I’ve done nothing but lurk on thin internet for years so this may be my first request on any platform. And it’s about a Lego monkey😭

With that said, can I get a romantic yandere Wukong with big feels for his exasperated lawyer? Or just and exasperated reader in general if you want lol

Can’t Fool You

(Well, I hope to receive more requests from you in the future! And I’m here writing about that monkey, so… we’re in the same boat!)

By now, you have your own little “everything” in his house.

Your own snacks. Your own mug. Your own “spot” on the worn-out couch.

And all three are conveniently laid out in front of you, an enticing spread of exotic and varied chocolates laid out next to your trusty porcelain stein, filled to the brim with a steaming brew. The couch cushion has been dusted and sprayed with a floral perfume. Your case files are neatly stacked on the edge of table.

This is probably the cleverest trap he’s created yet- not that it’s nearly enough to fool you.

“Sun Wukong, reveal yourself this instant.”

The Great Sage has learned by now that there’s no real way to argue with you, not unless he wants to spend this lovely afternoon sitting awkwardly on his knees, receiving a very lengthy lecture about wasting your time with petty and ill-built debates.

So instead he sounds a very lengthy whine, groaning and huffing as golden light emanates from the cushion placed right before the enticingly decorated table. It shifts and bends and sparks, slowly reforming into the Great Sage that you had come to know and tolerate.

“Bud, you always see right through me,” he compliments, though there’s still the edge of a soft whine through those honeyed words. He’s growing impatient with the lack of skinship and affection. “How could you tell?”

“Sun Wukong, the real cushion is clearly sticking out from behind the couch, you didn’t bother to clean any other part of the couch, and I heard you giggling as I came through the door!”

“Aww, hun!” He coos, disregarding every single time you had told him to refer to you by first or last name. “You’re SO smart!”

From another mouth it might’ve sounded sarcastic or demeaning. Maybe even spiteful. But in those five words alone has Wukong loaded love, admiration, devotion, and obsession.

“This is why I picked you as my lawyer, hun.”

No the hell it’s not, you want to say. And that would be true- you were picked as his lawyer because no one else could:

1. Stomach his constant jokes and tomfoolery

2. Work around dozens of mischievous and rowdy monkeys

3. Reliably out-scream Ne Zha

And you only kept working at this tedious job because he provided free boarding and food, and spoiled you with treasures. It was an unorthodox manner of payment, but stupidly lucrative.

You won a case. He “paid” you with an ancient relic. You took it to an antiques dealer. They considered scamming or skimping, then caught sight of Sun Wukong, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven. They paid you fairly.

And you walked away with heavy pockets.

It made for a good routine.

And you could tolerate that chaotic and breakneck lifestyle right up until you came “home” and had to spend half the night warding off both Wukong and his little troop of monsters from your bed.

Those little white-furred monkeys…

“They think you’re their other grandparent,” he had said once, dumping half a troop into your bed beside you as you protested and argued about their thieving hands and loud mouths. “Since you spend so much time with me, hun.”

“Then tell them I’m not.”

“Sorry, Y/N. Too late~”

…it had taken you two hours to pick out all the white strands of monkey hair, and an hour more to clear the smell. You had sworn to put up spikes, wire, fences- anything to prevent

Only to go soft at the begging of a baby; the runt of her troop, and allow her to settle on your pillow as you worked.

Damn the weakness of your heart- it had been a major mistake on your part.

You ended up throwing that pillow away after a very characteristic “monkey mess”, burning it in broad daylight and scattering the ashes amongst Flower Fruit Mountain’s fertile soil.

Ugh.

A muscular hand falls on either of your shoulders, directing you forward- Wukong’s replaced the old cushion and decorated it with silk pillows and peach blossom petals, and even taken the time to light a candle.

He nudges until you’ve reached the seat, then- perhaps with more force than intended- pushes you onto the couch.

“Wukong!” You call in anger, planting both hands firmly onto the furniture to steady yourself, making a move to stand- only for the Great Sage to throw himself into your open lap with a smile. His fur tickles at your thighs, a snug coat of ginger to warm your legs.

“…Sun Wukong, remove yourself from my lap this-“

“Aw, peaches! How can you be so mean to lil’ ol me? I just wanna spend some time with my favorite lawyer!”

“I am your only lawyer, because no one else can put up with your nonsense!”

“That’s what makes you so special to me, peaches.”

It’s a statement that manages to be vulnerable through its own simplicity, straightforward and sincere. If you had been standing, perhaps your knees would have buckled in surprise.

But you can’t, because Sun Wukong is splayed across you with all the might of a warrior, a king, a bogus immortal. He nestles closer, nearly purring in delight with each rub from his cheeks to your thighs.

One hand, clawed and built strong- sharply moves to grip at your wrist. Though you futilely try to pull away, he effortlessly yanks it to his head.

“Pet me,” he whines. “Please, peaches…?”

You pause, and consider the request. The relationship you share is already unprofessional, bordering on unhealthy at both ends. His obsessive nature comes through frequently enough…

The king barges in on your meetings with other clients to ruin them. He nuzzles your suits and dresses against himself until they bear his scent. He wards off friends and family alike- by being so exuberant and “accidentally” destructive that they fearfully retreat.

And you’ve allowed it this long, haven’t you? You could’ve left, or rejected him, or at least told him to stop… but no such words had ever left your lips.

And now that Wukong had settled into the routine that you allowed him to build, it felt like a wall, a cage, a web all around you.

Which brick to pull? Which bar to rattle? Which thread to cut?

This constrainment had built itself high, feeling like an ever-present gilded collar tight around your throat.

Shelter. Food. Money. Love.

He provided it all and more without hesitation- and all you had to do was play along, to some small degree. He could take rebuffs and insults and discouragement, could sit with a wagging tail through your lectures, could handle you kicking him out of your bed every night…

And he’d still come back for more.

You lower your hand to Wukong’s forehead. Under the fur, there’s a deep indent- it feels like a band once sat there. He perks, eagerly pressing his head upwards to savor the touch.

This is all you have to do. This earns you your room, your pay, your food and drink… more than any of your services as a lawyer, or your fervent legal defense of his character…

All that really matters to him is you, your time and attention.

You pet his head. He purrs.

In time, he’s sure that you’ll love him as much as he loves you.

And he has all the time in the world to wait for it.

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

Masquerade of the Sinners

pairing: ???!Joshua x fallen angel fem!reader

genre: smut. minors dni.

warnings: praise, dirty talk, mentions of incubus powers, unprotected sex (stay safe), creampie, sub!reader, dom!shua, religious imagery and defilement (again), making out, manhandling, spanking, squirting, overstimulation, hair pulling, mentions of blood and murder

word count: ~1.4k

summary: keeping up the appearances to deceive humans is joshua's expertise. but you have become the perfect apprentice, the mask of innocence bearing no cracks for the humans to gaze upon.

Author's note: hello beloveds <3 had a sudden burst of inspo thanks to the shua pics from the latest fansign and decided to expand a little on Fall From Grace :)

taglist: @junkissed @shuadotcom @bitchlessdino @duhnova

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations without permission allowed.

Another Sunday, another successful preaching from the altar.

A few months ago, Joshua was gagging at the idea of faking the role of a young and kind priest, devoted to God and His words. 

But now? After exposing himself to you and defiling you in a way only his kin know best, his daily life has become way more interesting.

It’s as if the bells of Apocalypse have rung in the Heavens and the archangels decided to send horde after horde of angels to execute him. Yet every single attempt has proven futile, with the heavenly creatures ending up lifeless in a pile of blood and pearly white feathers or breathless and full of his seed.

What’s even more amusing to him is that none of the puny humans around him have caught wind of his true nature.

“Hm. How foolish.” He chuckles to himself as he closes the small Bible in his hands. He goes to the small room where he keeps his robes and the rest of the books he uses for various ceremonies and other church activities.

Speaking of activities, he still despises the choir sessions. The gospels echoing from the mouths of the choir members and bouncing off the walls of the church always give him a headache, to the point of nosebleeds.

However, seeing some of the girls attend the choir just to ogle at him and purposefully wait during after hours to talk to him in private or for…other matters makes the whole choir experience a little more tolerable.

“Aren’t you tired of fooling around with these human weaklings, Joshua?”

You stand against the closed gates, leaning your back on the heavy wood.

Joshua’s lips curl into a wicked smirk. “Good evening, my dear. What brings you here tonight?”

“You know fully well why I’m here, you demonic creature.” You walk towards the altar and reach in front of him.

“Ah, of course. You want revenge for losing your status, don’t you?”

“Not just that.” You grit your teeth.

“What else then?” He asks, feigning innocence.

You gulp audibly, shame washing over your body when you remember the first time you let him ravage you like prey caught in a trap. 

You lift your shirt and lower your pants just enough to show him the two incubus tattoos engraved on your lower pelvis - a small heart surrounded by thorns and a star underneath their junction, connecting to another, larger heart with horns protruding. 

Joshua licks his lower lip hungrily. “So that is what you’re talking about.”

“You need to remove this, now.” You demand with a steady voice.

“I’m afraid I cannot do this, sweetheart.” He glues his eyes on you, irises glowing red. “The marks of an incubus are permanent once placed upon another body.”

“Liar, you were the one who put those marks in the first place! You must know how to take them away!” You raise your voice at him.

“The only way to not have these marks is to withstand and push away the charms of an incubus, Y/N. And as far as I remember, you did nothing of the aforementioned.” 

You feel your body lighting up on fire all of a sudden, heat starting to pool in your panties. No, he can’t be right.

“That’s the Gaze. Once someone looks at you lustfully, your entire body is immediately aroused.” Joshua explains.

“M-Make it stop.” Your voice comes out weaker than it was supposed to.

“I can make it stop for a while. But are you sure you want me to, pretty angel?”

You barely manage to suppress a whimper before pulling Joshua’s body flush to yours, smashing your lips to his with a carnal fervor. 

The last time you experienced this type of fervor was when he exposed his true nature to you.

Joshua moans in your mouth and wraps his tongue around yours, his arms grabbing your waist to manhandle you towards the altar.

He breaks the kiss and pins you on the sacred place, tracing his fingers over the larger mark.

“The one below is Trigger. There are two phrases I can say to you, each one with different effects.”

“W-What phrases are they?” You ask meekly.

“I already used the first one, angel. It was just to make you a tad bit hornier. The other one will just seal the deal.” He takes off his robes and reveals his chiseled body, along with his demonic horns.

“Joshua, s-stop making me beg already!” You kick your legs at him, but he grabs them by your thighs and reaches for the hem of your pants, pulling them down until they are completely off your body.

“That will happen too, sweetheart. But I wanna have fun with you first.”

He turns you around and pushes your head down on the altar, running his hands over the curve of your ass.

“For a fallen angel, you have an ass that would make even a succubus jealous.” He spanks your ass twice and then runs his hands over your back, raising your shirt to expose the scars on your back, where your wings once existed.

“You have been so good at blending in with the humans here and attending church every Sunday like a good little lamb, listening to my preachings as if I was your God.”

You let out a loud moan as you clench around emptiness, wetness starting to drip down your thighs. Joshua rips them in half with his hands and takes out his cock, rubbing the tip between your folds.

“Shua, please, fuck me, please!” You grip the edge of the altar, begging for something inside you.

Joshua lets out a deep chuckle. “Can’t deny you when you beg so prettily.” 

He slams his cock inside you with one fluid thrust, your thighs shaking from feeling full in a split second.

“You’re taking me even better than last time, little angel. I’m impressed.” He leans his torso on your back, caging you between the cold surface and his body. “You are just so good at everything, aren’t you?”

“T-Thank you, thank you so m-much, Shua.” You answer between short sobs, body jerking forward with each thrust he delivers.

“It’s so rewarding to see you don the pretty mask of the kind newcomer who is so pure and innocent, as if you were the new guardian angel of this town.” He grips your hair and pulls it violently. “Only for me to crush it into millions of pieces every night on this damn altar, like I’ve done with your former brothers and sisters.”

Under different circumstances, you would have driven a blade of Empyrean steel through his skull, but the nearly mind-numbing pleasure has made you a pliant mess in Joshua’s hands.

And you consciously love it.

It could be the marks on your body, but ever since you fell from Heaven, you’ve been craving his touch, his gaze, his voice, his everything.

“There is something about you that makes me want to keep you for myself, away from any living being, be it human, angel or even demon.” He admits between pants, a clear signal of his impending orgasm. 

“S-Shua, I- n-”

“I know, angel, I know.” He pants and lets go of your hair to wrap his arms around your torso and lift it off the altar, flush to his chest.

“I’m cumming!” You scream on top of your lungs, voice echoing in the empty church as you reach your climax and squirt all over the altar. Joshua doesn’t stop pistoning his hips against your ass, overstimulating you on purpose.

“You look so hot when you make a mess in God’s house, little lamb.” He moans in your ear and cums inside you, painting your insides white with his load. His hand caresses the glowing womb tattoos, the red sheen matching the one emitting from his hellish eyes.

You turn your head around and kiss him, teeth and tongue messily clashing with each other.

“I c-cannot see God anymore.” You confess breathlessly.

Joshua gives you a sardonic smile as he slips out of you and rolls you on your back so you can face him in all of his glory, his cum staining your legs.

“Your God stands in front of you, little lamb.”

[marshmellowrio]

Semblance of Control | Chapter 3

Word count: 1.5K

Semblance of control Masterlist

After the cadets receive their standard uniforms, they’re shown to the dormitory’s and left to their own devices. Colette makes sure to grab one of the beds near the wall, with 155 other cadets on the same floor, it will give her a sense of security, maybe a false one. No, she wouldn’t put it past any of the other cadets to murder her in her sleep, but this way she would have one less side to protect in case of an attack.

She sees Violet and Rhiannon coming in to claim the beds on her right, right next to each other. She quickly puts all of her stuff away and walks up to the two of them, still talking quietly while dumping their bags.

“Violet and Rhiannon, right?” Colette hoped she had paid enough attention to Nyra when she called out Rhiannon’s name and that she wasn’t saying the wrong name to the dark woman.

Rhiannon looks her up and down. “Who’s asking?”

“Someone who wants an ally or two, and you guys are in my squad, so…” Colette trails off, not really having any other reasoning. The two woman across from her look at each other with distrust written on their faces. “My name is Colette, Colette Wilder.” She tries to meet them halfway. “And I want to help you,” she nods at Violet, “learn to protect yourself.”

“What makes you think I can’t protect myself?” Violet retorts. Fair question.

“You probably have a trick or two up your sleeve, you’re a Sorrengail after all, but I’m certain it can’t hurt to learn a few more. Especially if you have to go up against someone like, let’s say… our wingleader?” Colette answers.

Violet’s eyes widen and she opens her mouth to say something, but Colette’s already talking again. “Oh come on, the Marked Ones already have it out for you and even a fool knows that a Sorrengail and a Riorson is a bad combination.” She makes sure to keep her voice slightly hushed as she says this, keeping half an eye on the people around them, making sure no one’s listening in on their conversation.

Violet ponders for a moment while Rhiannon narrows her eyes at Colette. “What’s in it for you?”

Colette breathes out a little laugh, “ You’re smart.” She purses her lips and nods. “As I said, I need allies in this death trap.” She shrugs and continues, “ I also don’t like people holding children accountable for the actions of their parents.”

Rhiannon gives her a small nod, “Doesn’t mean I trust you, though.”

Colette looks down at her feet with a small smile playing on her lips, “Good,” she catches Rhiannon’s eyes with her own, “I wouldn’t trust me either.” She sees Violet frown in the corner of her eye and turns to her. “I wouldn’t-,” Colette stops for half a second, “I don’t trust anyone here, you shouldn’t either. Keep her close.” She nods to Rhiannon while speaking to Violet. She walks off to get ready for bed, leaving the other two to ponder over her proposal to be an ally.

★・・・・・・★

After Captain Fitzgibbons, another name Colette learned yesterday, reads through all of the names on the death roll, Squad leader Aetos takes over, “Hopefully you all ate breakfast, because you’re not going to get another chance before lunch.”

Colette is positioned in the back row again, she sees the two women she approached yesterday whispering to each other but keeps her attention on her Squad leader.

“Second- and third-years, I’m assuming you know where to go,” he continues. He receives some non-committal noises of agreement from the front rows. “First-years, at least one of you should have memorized your academic schedule when it was handed out yesterday.” It’s a statement, one Colette can agree with, it’s the first thing she did when she woke up this morning. “Stick together. I expect you all to be alive when we meet this afternoon in the sparring gym.”

“And if we’re not?” Colette snaps her head to the first-year next to her and rolls her eyes at the question, before focusing on Aetos again.

“Then I won’t have to be concerned with learning your name, since it will be read off tomorrow morning,” their Squad leader answers with a shrug. “Sawyer?” He looks at a first-year next to Violet.

“I’ll get them there.” He’s tall, Colette notes, as he nods tightly at Aetos.

Dain orders us to get a move on and the whole squad breaks up, similar to the other ones around them.

“We have about twenty minutes to get to class,” Sawyer shouts at the nine first-years left before him. “Fourth floor, second room on the left in the academic wing. Get your shit and don’t be late.” He doesn’t wait for a reply and heads toward the dormitory.

Colette hears Rhiannon say, “That has to be hard.” She catches up to her and Violet, following the crowd toward the dorms. “Being set back and having to do this all over again.” Colette receives a smile from the two as she reaches them, seems like they’re warming up to her already.

“Better than being dead,” the smart-ass from next to her says as he passes the three of them.

“That’s true,” Violet replies as they head into the bottleneck in front of the door. Colette makes sure to stay on the outsides of it.

“I overheard a third-year say when a first-year survives Treshing unbonded, the quadrant lets them repeat the year and try again if they want,” Rhiannon adds. Colette cringes at the thought of completing her first year twice.

A bird whistle sounds from the left and Violet stalls, fixing her eyes on the door to the rotunda as it sounds again. Colette and Rhiannon follow her line of sight as she says, “I’ll be-”.

“We’ll grab your stuff and meet you there. It’s under your bunk, right?” Rhiannon asks before she can finish.

“You don’t mind?”

“Your bunk is next to ours, Violet. It’s not a hassle. Go!” She bumps her shoulder with Violet’s.

Violet is off with a thank you as Rhiannon turns to Colette and they share a conspiratorial smile.

“So, I’m assuming Violet knows our Squad leader?”

“You would be correct.” Rhiannon answers with a little laugh.

The two women make their way to their bunks along with the rest of the first-years on their floor. Rhiannon looks back and forth from Colette and the path in front of her. “So, why didn’t you cut your hair.” She tries to start a conversation to make it less uncomfortable.

Colette brings a hand up to her tight, low bun, brushing away the stray hairs that aren’t there. “It’s not that long, but I actually wasn’t aware of the fact that women cut their hair to join the rider’s quadrant.” She smiles awkwardly as they reach the bunks. “I mean, I’ve never had any problems with it while sparring so why would I?”

Rhiannon nods in understanding, grabbing her stuff and Violet’s. “I’ve always had mine this short or even shorter so I wouldn’t know what’s it’s like fighting with longer hair.”

“Maybe I’ll think about cutting it if it causes me to lose my matches, otherwise it’s not happening.” Colette laughs softly and Rhiannon joins in as they head back towards the academic wing.

The two of them keep chatting on their way to the doors to the rotunda and start to warm up to each other in the meantime. They step inside the rotunda and Colette’s breath catches. “Wow.”

Rhiannon stops a few steps ahead, feeling Colette lagging behind. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” She looks at Rhiannon, “You go ahead, I want to take this all in for a second.” Rhiannon nods slowly and continues on towards the academic wing.

Colette turns back to the six marble statues of the dragons, not having passed through the main rotunda yet. Her breath got taken away by the dragons instantly, she marvelled at the sight of them. Wandering closer to the black statue, she cranes her neck to look at it more properly.

The light filtering through from the glass dome, glitters on the black marble.

“I already knew you’re parents are tight,” Colette hears a voice call out from up above. She shifts her gaze a bit to find Riorson standing on the balcony, staring down. “But do you two have to be so fucking obvious?”

Colette frowns at his words and follows his line of sight, down to the middle of the rotunda where Violet stands with Squad leader Aetos at her back.

“I expected you to do a better job of hiding where your affections lie, Aetos.” Riorson starts walking down the steps. As he does, Colette starts walking to the space between them. His eyes brighten when they find hers, watching him closely. Monitoring him as he moves closer to Violet.

His focus shifts to Violet again as she bolts for the doors to the academic wing. Colette startles at the sudden movement, she casts one more glance in her wingleader’s direction before following after her… ally?

A/N: Let me know what you think of this chapter in the comments! There is a taglist for those interested in joining, leave a comment below and I'll add you for the next chapter.

Chapter 4 click here.

Taglist: @siobhanbooks @bada-lee-ily

[itzsana-kiddingmenow]

ᴛᴡ: soft tickles

ᴀ/ɴ: :3

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae @jeonginsdiary @leeknowstan33 @v--143 @wereallgonnadieonedaybutnottoday @inkytornpagess @lajanaa @a-wild-seungberry @channieissocute125 @soap143 @seungsluvv @skznccmlee @moony-9 @sunny-117

"Wah! You've grown so strong hyung!" Hyunjin exclaims as he walks by, seeing how much his roommate really had grown. He swore just a few minutes he could've been bigger than Changbin, but now his arm barely wraps around his without a little struggle. There wasn't anything wrong with that of course, he loved seeing how the elder progresses into his fitness journey, a persistent determination that refuses to give up in terms of bodybuilding. Walking towards the rapper, he kneads the plump muscle, it feels like pillows and absolute heaven, almost akin to a stress ball that he's been waiting all day to squish.

"H-Hey! I know I'm strong, but who gave you permission to do that?!" That's what he really likes about Changbin. Despite his figure, looking as if he would crush you with the smallest wrong step, his nature was bashful. Even with his loud shouting in the younger's direction, after not stopping, a pale red begins to creep up on his cheeks, crumbling apart before his eyes. Cuddling him closer, Changbin shrieks as he feels arms wrapping around his surprisingly small waist, but melts into the hug, nonetheless. Maybe being the shortest in the group has its perks.

"Do you think I need permission to touch and hold my 'wife' as I please?" Hyunjin hums, and just like he thought, no sound comes from below him, knowing damn well that he won this battle. No matter how strong Changbin thought he was, somewhere in him, Hyunjin would always know exactly where to hit to get his heart going. Maybe the other members knew too, and sometimes it gave him a weird, icky feeling at the bottom of his stomach. Friendly jealousy was always a thing, Felix said, and that's what it was always made out to be. Hopefully.

"Hmph, whatever- Ehehe! W-Whahahat gives?!" The rapper squeals as fingers suddenly begin to roam onto his belly, making futile attempts to swat the fingers away; which instead just led them to find shelter under Changbin's shirt, scribbling over the smooth surface. The taller seems to pay no mind to the playful swatting on his wrists, instead just continuing the ministrations, cooing over the way Changbin's face flushed a bright red when his strong upfront was doing absolutely nothing to phase or stun the ferret in his tracks.

"Hmm, since you're so strong, you should be able to withstand a little tickling, right Hyung? Just a little harmless tickling, no way someone as strong as you can't handle it right?" Hyunjin whispered ever so kindly into Changbin's ear, almost a sweet coaxing that would lure any unsuspecting prey right into his trap. But of course, the elder wasn't fooled, he knew behind those sugar-coated words were an underlying sense of teasing, out to get him the moment he let his walls down. And it just so happened he had done it right from the start.

"Hyuhuhuhune plehehease! I neheheed to work out!" Changbin squeals, snorting when the nimble fingers tap at his hip bones, smirking in satisfaction when they tremble and buck in an attempt to get away from Hyunjin to no avail.

"Hm hm… always working out, never leaving any time for your dear 'husband'. But fine, I'll let you go~" Hyunjin sings, releasing his grip on Changbin surprisingly easy, much to the elder's shock. Usually, he would be persistent about his need to latch onto Changbin behind closed doors, knowing their act on camera had simply just made the younger want to cuddle closer to that real life teddy bear even more; the temptation growing stronger now that they were both roommates. Leaving him alone at his call was practically a miracle, and one that Changbin wasn't going to skimp on.

However, as he worked out, it wasn't missed that when a tall figure scooped him up and tickled him for an inch of his life against the soft gym floors, maybe he should've thought twice before listening to such instructions; but what could he say, he was bad at reading the signs!

[miscretis]

Discord Mod!Ronin x Discord Kitten!Reader (G.n) [PART 3/FINALE OF A CRACK FIC TAKEN SERIOUSLY]

WRITERS NOTE

Part 3/3 is finally out now! It's been a good few days since I started this series and it has been really fun to write! I'm appreciative of the support given towards this series and I hope that y'all will continue to support me, my artworks, and my writing! Yes you read that right, this is the finale. This is really rushed because I wanted to start on a new AU, a new project. It's going to be another Ronin x Reader but I promise it's a good one! Now, sit back and enjoy the finale of Discord mod!Ronin x Discord Kitten!Reader (g.n)

CW:

-Mentions of murder

- bad and rushed writing

-cringe.

Months flew past and you were slowly wrapping up the novel for a nice and bittersweet ending. You checked your calendar and realised that today was Valentine’s day! What's so exciting about it anyways? It's not like anyone is going to ask you out…

Until…

@goreboy is calling you!

What is he calling me for?

Curiosity was starting to engulf you so you decided to pick up the discord call. pick up the discord call. As you picked up the call, the wine red hair man appeared on the screen before you, a cheeky grin on his face.

“What’s up my darling daredevil? The devil has come to wish you a Happy Valentine’s day,” Ronin snickered.

You rolled your eyes, “Very funny Ronin, very funny.”

He chuckles, “What? Aren’t you thankful that your boyfriend is here for you?

“More than thankful.” Your tone dripped with sarcasm.

“The kitten’s feisty as ever, I like that. But, my patience is running out, writer darlin’.”

Wait..he knows who I am? How?!?! I have been concealing my identity just fine for months!

However, panicking wouldn’t help you in any situation, so you took deep breaths before replying, “ I’m not scared of you, Ronin. You’re just taking this intense role play way too seriously!”

What I said only fueled his amusement, his voice distorted into a maniacal laughter, “Oh darling. When was it ever roleplay? You’ve been playing my game for the longest time, and you still haven’t realised!”

You were surprised. No, in shock. Wait no, do you even know how you feel at this point? You’ve been fooled, utterly bamboozled. You’re like a mouse in a mouse trap, stuck in a sticky situation. The Devil’s Butcher is right in front of you on your screen. It only took you 5 months to notice.

You were utterly speechless.

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

”I know your name, Ronin. I could easily expose you.”

“So what is it?”

You ponder for a while, you only said that out of spite.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t know your boyfriend’s full government name despite dating me for a few months already! I’ve been whispering it to you.”

You quickly toggled off the calling screen and went to search through Ronin’s DMs, you realised the way he typed his words before calling you was weird…

Soon, it clicked.

“You’re Ronin Beaufort.”

Ronin’s eyes glimmered in pure excitement. You could tell that exhilaration was pumped through his veins, “Hah! You impress me, darling. It’s Ronin Beaufort, the Devil’s Butcher, yours truly. Meet me in Purgatory.”

14th February 2024, 8.50pm. You arrived at Purgatory, the very alley where the Devil’s Butcher gets his hands stained red. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, your heart rate quickens and your hands clammy. You couldn’t believe you’re meeting up with a serial killer, your boyfriend.

He is a serial killer but he is also my boyfriend. Will he kill me or not?

At this point, it doesn't anymore. By agreeing to come along, you've already sealed your fate. As you walked along the alleyway, you saw graffiti all over the wall. It gave it more of an eerie vibe since murder literally takes place here.

Suddenly, you heard a blood curdling scream. You turned around to check your surroundings. Something's definitely up but you couldn't muster the courage to check it out. So, you stay at your current position, waiting for Ronin to come.

Time passes by and he still has yet to come. So, you decided that it was just a prank. Ronin is the type to pull these kinds of pranks anyways.

“Oh writer darling, getting impatient already? Don't worry, I'm right here!” Ronin creeps up from your back and whispers into your ears. You turned out and gasped out in surprise.

Oh god, it's not a prank. It's the Devil’s Butcher in the flash!

But as the wise man says, panicking doesn't solve anything.

Ronin chuckles, “So we meet!”

“Always the devil, Ronin Beaufort.”

“Aren't you a pleasure?” Ronin walks in closer, “Gotta say, meeting you in person got me feeling some typa’ way. And I wonder how you feel about….well…”

Ronin lets out a maniacal laugh, it stirs up some type of feeling in your chest, your cheeks flare up a pretty red.

���Do you like me now?”

“Yes.”

“Oh just speak the truth! Anything but the truth!”

He whispers into your ears, “Write me a love note, darling.”

“I know your name. I could expose you.”

“Coulda, woulda, shoulda. You could end me. You should end me. But would you end me?”

“...”

“I don't think so! Where's the boys in blue? Why's it just us in my favourite gruesome alley? Why's that after knowing who I am, you still wanna see me?”

“So why did you even invite me to the server?”

“I did it for you. You were starving for inspiration, so I gave you insatiability.”

“...”

“You wanted inspiration, so I became your muse. You wanted love, so I gave you love. Isn't that everything you ever wanted?”

“...”

“Why didn't you call the cops? There were so many opportunities that you missed out on!”

“...”

“If I may…I would say you're a little too in love…”

"..."

“So, what would'ja do now? Taste the feeling of metallic death by my crowbar? Or ya gonna kiss me? Or are you gonna kill me? I got a knife right here! ” He lets out a dark chuckle as he closes up the gap between the both of you, pinning you to the wall.

You clenched your teeth, dang it. Ronin really stirred your heart up. If you kill him, you'll be guilty of a crime. If you kiss in, you'll give in.

But fuck it…who cares if you give in or commit a crime anyways? You've gone so far

You pulled him close and grabbed the knife, Ronin dropped his crowbar out of surprise. You've thrown the knife away and leaned him into a heartwarming kiss!

Euphoria spread through both of your bodies and released the unsolved tension between the two of you. You have danced with the devil and now he has now fully corrupted you, having you completely wrapped around his finger. You're now his, he's now yours.

The end.

[agenttexsflippedshit]

As someone who almost got got by a job listing scam, here are some friendly reminders:

1. The job interview will not take place over a chat platform, these people want to hear your voice and see your face. Zoom interviews are fine here but still be wary.

2. Call the goddamn business that’s hiring you to verify the job listing. Even if it’s a front desk person, they’ll likely be able to tell you if it’s a scam that they’ve been made aware of.

3. Don’t accept any money from anyone, and don’t pay them money to apply. There is no reason money should be changing hands before you’ve 1) met in person, 2) signed the onboarding paperwork, and 3) did some work.

“But Roni you’re so smart! How did you fall into this trap?” Simple panic, my friends! I’ve been in Hyper Anxiety Mode since the middle of September! I’m losing my job this month! As strange as it is, I’ve never been on unemployment before and being jobless makes me feel like a waste of space! (This is not to be indicative of anyone else facing joblessness. I’m simply saying that because it’s Me it’s Different because I’m worth less than the average man.) (Nobody is hiring social media managers in Nebraska rn that want my qualifications.) (and if I wanted to leave the state I’d just move to Las Vegas with the company and try to live off my pittance there.)

So if you have further tips, please share. I know plenty of people getting laid off and walking away from bad jobs right now, but don’t let that desperation turn you into a fool.

[alilbatflies]

Just Cake #4

To the people who commented: hello! And thank you, since this wouldn't have happened otherwise.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

...

The walk back was alright, considering. There were no more traps shutting around them, neither guards leaping from the shadows of trees. The supervillain could have something like that. The henchman wouldn’t be surprised.

The thing was, once the henchman’s mind had calmed down somewhat and processed the adrenaline from the dangerous situation, the conversation prior to supervillain’s arrival crashed into them like a train gone off the rails. Their thoughts kept leaping back and back to the net conversation, pondering.

They wanted to ask. They didn’t want to push.

And of course, the conversation would surface again, as if asking your boss “what’s your regret in life” before a suspected death ever did anything good. They were in the industry for a long time, for fuck’s sake. They should have known better.

They had already been so close to their villain just hanging in the net and it was so inappropriate and entirely unprofessional. They wanted to ask, but boundaries were pushed quite enough that day, far beyond their liking.

At least they were finally back on their own turf. The chances of being attacked by someone unfamiliar or snatched up by a net hidden in leaves and shadows of the forest were minimal. Their home base was peaceful.

Back in their office, the villain took off the work jacket. They exhaled and moved to the wall map. The henchman let their coat hang on the rack by the door as they joined to input what little they managed to find before they were unceremoniously interrupted by a bundle of expertly placed ropes. The only reason the henchman wasn’t dying of embarrassment at that was that it was supervillain’s net, and that meant they had little chances of missing it or escaping otherwise.

They wrapped up quickly for lack of substantial information. And the general exhaustion.

The henchman just wanted to go home. Eat something. Take a long shower. Pass out on the bed and hibernate for the next three years maybe. The villain was competent enough for world dominance on their own, if they so desired. The henchman did not think world dominance would be something the villain ever desired, as it came with a lot of talking to people they didn’t know. But they had the skill.

Were they too young for retirement?

It wasn’t like the villain couldn’t just pick any of the many other henchmen that crawled around whenever there was a plan being executed. So many skilled people. Surely one retiring minion wouldn’t be a problem.

It was all just thoughts produced by an exhausted mind; the henchman knew. Thoughts they entertained far too eagerly. There was something about it.

Nevertheless, their work was done at the moment, so they were going home. Finally. It would make more sense in the morning.

“Before you go,” the villain said as the henchman moved to take their coat and leave. “The thing I was about to say before we got interrupted.”

“Huh?”

“You’re getting promoted.”

“Huh?”

The henchman’s mind was stuck. The loading circle wasn’t even spinning.

Promoted.

Promoted?

First, that was the villain's regret?! Not promoting them surely wasn’t such a huge deal. Second, what were they even getting promoted to? There was nowhere to be promoted to! Everyone worked under the villain. The only step above would be the villain’s level. And becoming the villain’s equal was… no. Absolutely not.

Before they could shake their head and no doubt make a fool of themselves somehow, the villain tilted their head.

“Become my right hand?”

The henchman’s mind slowed down a bit. Not quite equal. Just… closer to equal than before.

“Right hand,” the henchman echoed. They supposed that was technically a position between the boss and the minions. The villain did employ quite a lot of people, lately. “Is that a real title, even?”

The villain shrugged. “Blizzard mentioned it. She said, it’s like the head butler of henchmen.”

“Right,” the henchman said. Blizzard was one of the villains they were often cooperating with, and their villain took her advice seriously. (Regardless of whether they followed through with it.) “Right.”

They could work with that. The henchman smiled. They could work with that.

The villain considered them.

“I understand it’s a lot of responsibility,” they said. “If you’d rather not to, I’ll understand. But there’s nobody I trust quite as much as you. You have this way with words, too… I can’t speak as well in stressful situations.”

The henchman had all of half a second to ponder if the villain actually found situations stressful before the villain carried on.

“If today’s incident proved anything it’s that I can’t actually work without you.”

That was delightful, the henchman supposed. “Words alone wouldn’t get me anywhere.”

“No.” the villain grinned, a crooked wild thing of a smile. “Your bluffs are always based on my strength, perhaps. But still perfect bluffs.”

The henchman filtered away the way the villain pronounced perfect for later sorting. Presumably for the evening when they stared into the ceiling before sleep again.

“It’s just a title.” It sounded dismissive the moment it came out of their mouth. The villain didn’t seem to take it personally.

“Enjoy it, then.”

The villain seemed to have thought about it a lot. They wouldn’t have offered otherwise.

Right hand, huh? It sounded alright. They still weren’t that sure that it was a working position. Sure, they knew Blizzard had one, and that the other people worked under them both… Okay, maybe it was a working position. It still felt kind of weird.

Did that mean they would be redirecting things from the villain to others? That was nothing new. Except now, they supposed, they were kind of responsible for the execution. Kind of a lot. The realization slowly sunk in. There has always been a level of personal responsibility, but now it felt magnified.

If they were to officially be responsible for other henchmen’s wins and fuck ups as well, that would bring a whole new level of stress to their life.

“Do I get a raise?”

The villain stared.

The henchman prayed they did not cross any lines again, as so often, but it was too late to take back anything. They were perfectly sure the villain had heard them now, besides.

“Hm.”

“I was mostly joking, boss,” the henchman blurted. “I didn’t–” they caught themselves. If the villain was willing to pay them more, then that shouldn’t be a problem, yeah?

“We’ll see.”

And that was that.

The henchman took the coat of the rack, said goodbye and decidedly did not stumble on their way out. That much for the retirement.

The henchman supposed it went pretty well, overall.