#devoted and obsessed and in worship almost <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[boy-eclipse]

lovesick seb ripping out his own faux heart and placing it in ciel’s hands panting, “yours, my lord… all yours.” before he passes out from blood loss. ciel is absolutely horrified but at least he understands the depths of seb’s devotion now <3

ciel has finny and bard take seb to bed and he places the heart back into seb’s chest, and it mends itself from there. ciel spends every evening by seb’s side and when he eventually wakes up ciel gives him a swift smack and tells him that was such a stupid thing to do. before ciel’s hand can completely leave seb’s face, seb takes it and kisses his fingers. “i love you,” is all he mutters, which stuns ciel silent. he just keeps his hand in seb’s until he gets tired, at which point seb will open the duvet for him and ciel will crawl to lean on seb’s bloody chest, and fall asleep there.

[sadiesdoll]

DEVOTION.

obsessed!vi x reader | just pure smut, emotional vulnerability, yearning, and obsession. (mdni ♡) wc: 1681

contains: worship kink, strap-on use (r!receiving), vi refers to her strap as her dick, oral sex (r!receiving), cockwarming, just vi being very pussydrunk.

a/n: sorry guys I’m just too obsessed with pathetic vi </3

Enjoy ♡

The room was quiet, lit only by the dying orange glow of the streetlight outside the window.

The air was thick— sweet, heavy with the scent of your cherry perfume.

Vi stood in the doorway like a storm barely restrained-lean muscles taut, fists flexing like she was holding herself back from touching you too soon.

"You don't know," she murmured, voice hoarse, "what you do to me."

She crossed the room slowly, boots quiet against the worn floorboards, her gaze never leaving yours.

There was something reverent in her stare—like she wasn't looking at a person, but something sacred. Something she'd kneel for.

When her fingers brushed your waist, it wasn't rough, despite the power in her frame. It was tender. Careful. As if you might break under her touch—or worse— vanish.

Her hands skimmed lower, curling at the hem of your skirt, dragging it up slowly—revealing the delicate stretch of your thighs.

And then she saw them.

Pink.

The softest, sweetest little pink panties, clinging to your pussy like a prayer, a wet spot forming on the center.

Vi's breath hitched sharply.

She traced a single calloused fingertip along the lace edge, barely daring to touch.

"Pink," she whispered to herself, her voice husky with need. "Of course. Sweetest color. Sweetest fucking girl."

You whimpered, thighs twitching slightly under the weight of her stare.

Vi sank to her knees before you, worshipping you without even touching you yet.

She hooked her fingers gently into the waistband of your panties and tugged them down-slow as death, slow as devotion.

She didn't say anything at first. Just looked-eyes dark, almost in awe.

"You're so pretty," she breathed, voice raw and breaking.

And then she kissed you. Not your mouth. Not yet.

Your thighs. The hollow of your hips. The soft skin just above your aching cunt.

She kissed you like you were a prayer she'd spent her whole life learning by heart.

You whimpered again, hand threading through her messy hair.

"Vi..." you whispered, a half-moan leaving your lips. Voice shaking with need and something else—something fragile.

That snapped her last thread of control. She groaned low in her throat, desperate, and dug her tongue into your soaking wet cunt without hesitation.

She devoured you—messy, starved, frantic. The sounds were filthy—wet, obscene, echoing through the quiet room.

"God, baby," she gasped against your folds, "your pussy's so fucking sweet. Could stay buried in you forever, fuck— m'gonna get you so ready for my dick-"

"Oh— fuck." You sighed out. "Fuck me— please. Fuck me." you whined in desperation.

You felt it then—her trembling.

Her whole body shuddered as she mouthed at you, hands gripping your thighs like you were the only thing anchoring her to the world.

Your hand tightened in her hair, tugging gently, pulling her up until her flushed face hovered over yours.

"Baby.." you whispered, your voice full of soft concern through the haze of pleasure. "You're trembling."

Vi's chest heaved, breath broken against your lips. Her pupils were blown wide, eyes wild, as if she barely recognized herself anymore.

She looked wrecked.

"Can't—“ she choked out, voice thick and shaking, "can't help it. You make me feel so much—pretty thing—pretty fuckin' thing— mine, all mine."

She collapsed against you, pressing her forehead into your stomach, voice cracking into desperate, messy, beautifully vulgar worship.

"I'm so fucking obsessed with you," she babbled, trembling harder now, "your pussy's heaven, you're heaven—you're the sweetest thing l've ever tasted, you're perfect, you're fuckin' mine-"

You cupped her face, coaxing her to look at you again, your thumbs stroking her damp cheeks.

"I'm right here," you whispered against her skin. "I'm yours. It's okay, baby. Let go. I've got you."

That was it.

That was all it took.

Vi let out a choked sob of relief and crashed her mouth to yours—kissing you like a drowning woman clinging to the surface.

She shoved her strap against you—thick, hard, already slick with your arousal—grinding it along your soaked folds until you gasped into her mouth.

"Tell me you're mine again," she begged into your neck, voice wrecked, hands gripping your hips like she could mold you into her.

"Please— you're mine, right? Mine to worship. Mine to fucking love."

You wrapped your arms around her back, nails dragging down her shoulder blades.

"I'm yours," you whispered into her ear. "All yours, Vi."

She whimpered —whimpered— a broken, desperate sound, and pushed inside you with a slow, aching thrust.

"Can't stop—won't stop—gonna stay inside 'til you're leakin' down my thighs, fuck—“ she whispered. Slurring on her words and sounding so fucking pussydrunk.

She fucked you slow, deep, her trembling body pouring everything into every filthy, reverent motion-whispering broken prayers into your skin.

"You're perfect, perfect, sweetest thing, made for me—fuck—so fucking good, baby—“

Your nails bit into her skin, your body arching into her. Every thrust, every wet sound, every tremble, every gasping, messy confession from her lips sent you spiraling higher.

"Soaking f'me—you're so good to me, baby—‘s all for me, right?" she slurred, voice wrecked against your ear.

You nodded frantically, whimpering, tears brimming at the edges of your lashes.

"A-All of me, Vi—“ you gasped, clinging to her like you'd drown without her—“everything I am—it's all yours. I promise."

Vi groaned like you'd torn the last piece of sanity from her, pounding her dick harder and deeper inside you, her hands fisting the sheets around your head like she needed to anchor herself to you—or else she'd fucking fall apart.

When you finally came—clenching tight around her, crying out her name like it was sacred—Vi came undone right with you. Her hips still slowly grinding against you.

Tears in her eyes.

Lips pressed to your throat.

Her whole body shaking with the force of how deeply she loved you.

And even after the pleasure shattered into pieces, she stayed wrapped around you—still trembling, still murmuring half—senseless things against your skin.

Still worshipping you like you were the only salvation she'd ever found.

And the world was slow to return.

The room was heavy with the scent of sex—slick heat, sweet musk, the overwhelming perfume of you still clinging to Vi's trembling body.

She collapsed against you, forehead pressed to your shoulder, her breathing ragged and uneven. Her whole body was shaking—small, uncontrollable tremors running through her as she clutched you like a lifeline.

You ran your hands down her bare, flexing back, soothing her with slow, careful strokes.

"Baby," you whispered against her hairline, your own voice still wrecked with aftershocks. "...What was that about?"

Vi shuddered against you. She tried to answer—tried to find words—but all that came out was a broken whimper, her mouth pressing desperately to the side of your neck like she needed your pulse to survive.

"You were shaking so bad," you murmured, rocking her gently in your arms, feeling the slick mess between your thighs-the sticky, dripping proof of how thoroughly she had worshipped you.

"You're still shaking."

Vi pulled back just enough to look at you, and the sight broke something open in your chest.

Her face was flushed, slicked with sweat and the lingering wetness of your pussy around her lips. Her pupils were still blown wide, drowning in black. She looked fucked out, wrecked, starved for you even now.

Her voice cracked when she finally managed to speak.

"Couldn't stop," she whispered hoarsely. "Couldn't stop touching you, tasting you. You're—“

She swallowed hard, hand finding yours and bringing it to her heart, where it thundered violently against her ribs.

"You're everything," she rasped. "You smell like heaven, taste like a fuckin' dream... your pretty little cunt... dripping for me, soaking my face... it's all I see when I close my eyes."

You exhaled shakily, overwhelmed by the rawness, the violence of her tenderness.

"I thought I broke you," you whispered, a faint giggle spilled from your lips, brushing her sweaty hair back from her forehead. She laughed—a broken, soft sound—and nuzzled into your palm.

"You did," she said. "You broke me. Ruined me. Made me yours."

You pulled her into a kiss—slow, messy, lingering—you moaned into her mouth while tasting yourself on her tongue, feeling the quiet, desperate way she clung to you like she'd never let go.

When you finally pulled back, you brushed your fingers lightly over her hip, where her strap was still buried deep inside you, hot and unmoving.

You shifted your hips slightly and gasped softly at the feeling—thick, full, the girthy silicone pressing deep against your tender walls.

Vi groaned low in her throat at the tiny movement, her arms tightening around you like a vice.

"Baby," you whispered against her lips, "Fuck— you wanna pull out now?"

Vi shook her head fiercely, voice trembling with need.

"No," she breathed. "No. Fuck no. I wanna stay inside you. Wanna feel you clenching around me. Stay buried in your lovely pussy all fuckin' night."

You whimpered at the filthy desperation in her voice, at the way her strap twitched inside you like it could feel every flutter of your sensitive, pulsing hole.

"You're still so wet," Vi muttered, almost delirious, her forehead dropping against yours. "So warm. So perfect. Feels like you're suckin' me in, princess. Like your pussy knows it's mine."

You kissed her again—gentle, worshipful—rolling your hips just a tiny bit so the strap ground slow and deep inside you, your swollen, dripping folds clenching around it like you never wanted to let her go either.

Vi moaned brokenly into your mouth, her whole body melting into yours.

"I'm not going anywhere," you whimpered against her lips.

"You can ruin yourself on me all you want, Vi."

Vi whimpered again—wrecked by your words—and pressed herself closer, trembling in your arms, the slick heat between your legs sticky and beautifully shameful between you.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, she let herself believe it.

That you were hers.

That you wanted to be worshipped like this.

That you were never, ever going to leave her.

Critcism and ideas are heavily appreciated (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

thank you for reading! ♡

[northopalshore]

Juno in the

Juno persona chart

Juno asteroid (3). Represents the way that you act in the relationship, how you behave and act around your significant other. It also tells you the nature of the relationship in general. This only applies to the Juno persona chart.

୨୧ Please do not repost without consent ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠`⁠ʔฅ🔉

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

In the signs & degrees

🎂 Aries (°1, °13°25)

You will be very direct in your relationship, likely taking the leadership role or just being protective of your relationship in general. There is this young love sort of feel with your partner where you show your love by cranking them a middle finger now and then lmao. Either that or there is this childishness about you that really shines with them. Being carefree, passionate and honest. Though, physical affection is also a strong suit in your relationship. With the degrees specifically, there may be this fast paced aspect to your relationship as well i.eeverything progresses really quickly.

🎂 Taurus (°2,°14°26)

Your relationship may feel very natural. Almost as if you've known each other for years before getting together. They are someone you can let your guard down to, feel at home with. You will be more relaxed in your relationship, when you're with them you know it's not going to be a rough week after all even if you have much to do. Your relationship is very supportive, and nurturing. You and your partner may always have each other's back. It's likely that family members will be very close to your relationship as well i.s everyone knows each other & gets along easily. Your relationship is also very stable & secure.

🎂 Gemini (°3,°15,°27)

You will have a lot of fun in your relationship. Your partner is the type to give you butterflies in your stomach every time you're with them. You are both rather flirty & talkative in your relationship. You could act like the dorkiest or all dorks laughing at each other's antics. Being around them makes you feel very comfortable, but also makes a part of you feel more playful & teasing. You will talk a lot and move around a lot with them in your relationship.

🎂 Cancer (°4,°16,°28)

This is the passenger princess placement. The one looking up to their partner to both give and receive attention. In this relationship, you will find that you tend to cling on to your partner quite often. Something feels immediately comfortable, and it's almost like you're able to put your trust in them completely. There is a tendency to be dependent on your partner, but only because you feel safe. Though if other aspects point to a more obsessive relationship, then it could be that you'll be very codependent.

Ex: Nancy Spungen has Juno in cancer (°29 leo), in the 7th house in her JPC. Her relationship with Sid was very codependent. Both of them were very much obsessed with one another. Clingy, petty, toxic and stuck in that tunnel vision they call love. Their lives started revolving around each other, from the moment they met until the very end.

🎂 Leo (°5,°17,°29)

This is a very flamboyant placement. Both of you are very proud of the realationship, but at the same time very protective of it. You will be very obsessed with each other to the point that everything you do may seem to revolve around your partner. Passionate, loyal & devoted to one another. In the 29th degree, usually it's the couple that go everywhere together i.e spotted everywhere. There is this sense of pride that comes with being your partner's significant other no matter who they are. Your partner makes you feel seen, but there's also the need to be adored, and almost worshipped by them at times. Being with them makes you feel alive, more than anything else in the world.

🎂 Virgo (°6,°18)

There may be something rather "controlling" about your relationship. You will be doing a lot for the sake of your relationship and may find yourself nitpicking what should & should not be done (which to some partners can seem rather selfish) but it's not necessarily that way. What is certain is that you will be the one taking responsibility over a lot of things in the relationship, being the head of operations wanting everything to be "perfect". This also means that you will be heavily devoted to your relationship and partner. They seem to occupy a large portion of your mind & life once you get into a relationship. Suddenly, you make everything revolve around them.

Ex: Ariana Grande & Michael Jackson both have Juno in Virgo and some of their noticeable traits in both their marriages were control issues. Whether it'd be caring too much or too little.

🎂 Libra (°7,°19)

In this relationship, you are loyal, romantic, diplomatic. In a way, you will treat them as an equal. Someone you work with but at the same time are head over heels for. It also means you'll be sticking together quite often especially during the early stages of your relationship but it can develop years after as well (the working together part). You are deeply romantic, and would bend over backwards for your person but that's only because you know your partner would do the same & that the relationship is worth it. Almost always points to working with/for them as well. Especially if it's sitting in the 7th house.

Ex: Jungkook has Juno in the 1st house, in Libra (°9 Sagittarius). He will adapt a more independent approach to his relationship. It's the type of relationship where you are able to be with someone who truly understands you, being your best friend, your partner in crime but at the same time, you're able to stand by your individuality.In a way, he will act as a guide or mentor but at the same time learn a lot from his partner. Very romantic, but there isn't this theme of drowning in the relationship. Both are able to swim independently, but being together just feels right. The relationship will likely boost his career somewhere down the line. He may have a tendency to stick to his partner quite often though (possessive/protective). Perhaps he'll be showing her the ropes in the industry? We'll see.

🎂 Scorpio (°8,°20)

This relationship will bring out the best & worst qualities between you. You specifically. There is a lot of attraction, love and devotion for your person but that also comes with possessiveness, obsession & toxicity when not handled properly. The erotic nature of the relationship keeps you hooked & addicted, and you will both feel like you were always meant to be. That you can do anything for them, and that nothing is impossible beside them.

🎂 Sagittarius (°9,°21)

Here, you are understanding, wise, fun & functional in the relationship. There is this clear mindset of " we are one in the same", meaning nobody is truly perceived as more important than the other. You act as a guide; giving out advice and reassurance to your partner & at the same time they also provide that same service to you. You can get pretty philosophical in the relationship as well. This is one of those " we're best friends but we're dating" type of placements. You feel that your partner just gets you. Here, growth is able to thrive in the relationship. Your relationship will also serve as a leverage for you to get to a higher position in life whether mentally or materially. You both also might travel very often together or to each other.

🎂 Capricorn (°10,°22)

You are both likely devoted, serious, stable, and act as the rock or foundation to the connection. This relationship will urge you to be more mature & responsible. You will have to take on some sort of responsibility when you get into a relationship with them; taking something more seriously. Dealing with bigger cards than you've previously dealt with.

In the 22nd degree specifically, your relationship will likely be life-changing to you; they may change the course of your future. You'll likely see this placement in the charts of people who say that their partner is their knight in shining armour, though it could also mean changing your life for the worst.

Ex: Beyonce' has Juno (°22 Capricorn) in Scorpio 9th house. Her relationship with Jay-Z blew her career sky high. She wasn't just Beyoncé from Destiny's Child anymore. She was THE Beyoncé. It seems like all the puzzle pieces just fell in place.

I have Juno in Aquarius (°22 Capricorn) in the 5th house. Which likely means my relationship with my FS will bring me out of my comfort zone; to actually do the things I've always wanted artistically & be more experimental/ weird. Working with him on whatever wacko idea that hits me. Both of us will be very focused on art, expression & success. Doing something new.

Elizabeth Taylor also has Juno at 22 degrees in leo in the 8th house (conjuncting Jupiter at 22). Her marriages & multiple husbands have impacted her life drastically, highlighting her scandals within the industry. Untill now, everyone refers to her as the real life Evelyn Hugo.

🎂 Aquarius (°11,°23)

You are able to be yourself in this relationship. It's almost as if you've found someone who values you for who you are, being in this environment allows you to be as weird & as goofy as you want to. Understanding that both of you are multifaceted individuals. You are able to stand on your own, respectful of each other's individuality while still being together. This is a strong best friend placement. There is always this sense of excitement when you're with them. You may also adopt a nontraditional relationship. This relationship will likely bring a lot of excitement and change into your life, this is one of those "shining star that crashed into my life" placements.

🎂Pisces (°12,°24)

Your relationship is enchanting. A safe space, devoted, calm, connected, and most of all emotional. You may prefer to be very private about your relationship. There's this divine feeling when you're around them like suddenly the world seems just a little brighter & your day wasn't so bad after all. There is definitely a tendency to overindulge in each other's presence, hyping each other up even if they are wrong. Though there could also be this distance that you feel around them or this underlying fear of losing them.

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

In the houses

🍨 First house

In this relationship you are stable, self driven, independent & protective. Both you and your partner will be each other's Akane & Ranma i.e Taki and Mitsuha. What I mean by that is there's this playful banter that exists in your relationship. With both of you having your nose in the air, facing opposite directions when really you're flirting. You are very protective of your partner & your relationship. You love playing slightly hard to get when you're with them or vice versa. You are both very real with each other.

🍨 Second house

You get very romantic around your partner maybe a little shy as well lmao. There is this sense of belonging to one another. Both of you may be very focused on money or your possessions i.e being financially independent. However, you may like to spoil each other as well. You may be a little greedy with them and jealousy may be prominent but it's not as intense as if it were in the 8th house. You may work to earn money with them whether together or separately, but money will be a key factor in your relationship. Both of you have a stable and generous relationship. You may love being spoiled as well.

🍨 Third house

You may feel or act like siblings to some degree. By that I mean both of you feel like you've lived with each other your whole lives to the point where nothing is "embarrassing" to you. You'll also be more talkative in the relationship. Best friends with similar likes and dislikes, you may adopt a lot of your partner's habits or traits as well.

🍨 Fourth house

You may be somewhat reliant on each other at times, being each other's sense of security and stability. If anything goes wrong within the relationship it may feel like your whole world is falling apart. You are very devoted, you're focus in the relationship will always be around stability, trust and comfort. Being parents may be a huge aspect of your life. You'll likely see this in charts of couples who are very close to their children.

🍨 Fifth house

Your relationship will be fun, entertaining, and at the same time devoted. You will be able to express yourself more, and perhaps ignite your passions whether from the perspective of your inner child or your adult self. You are able to express your creativity, sexuality and childish nature more around your partner. You adopt a more extroverted personality around your partner even if you are an introvert.

🍨 Sixth house

You may have to put a lot of effort into this relationship. What I mean is that here, you always make the effort into making them a part of your daily routine, whether it means moving in together pretty quickly or calling them everyday. You will be very immersed into each other's daily lives; although it seems rather mundane this is usually a telltale sign of an honest, stable relationship. Where both parties show their effort into showing care & interest into each other no matter how " basic".

🍨 Seventh house

Romantic, and loyal. There's likely this professional tone in your relationship i.e you'll likely be working with or for them too but this is not the only indicator for that. There is the codependency that may arise, like not being able to do something without their partner's opinion or involvement for. Your relationship is also a direct influence to your other relationships as well.

Ex: Nancy Spungen sort of became Sid's agent after a while getting him performance gigs. She was always seen with Sid & even went on tours with him and his band (which wasn't something his band mates were fond of)

🍨 Eighth house

There is this deep obsession you feel with your partner. A part of you may feel like you can never be away from them. It Could develop into something volatile, dependant, and toxic depending on your state of maturity. But no matter what your state of mind may be, this relationship is intense and will drag out fears and past traumas. Whether you become a union that nobody will get but yourselves. Sex, devotion & possessions play an important role to the both of you.

🍨 Ninth house

You act as the leader, or the guide or guru in your relationship. The person that your partner comes to for advice and long talks. You'll likely find yourself being the boss. However, this also means that your partner is a substantial element to your future growth, whether career wise or through evolving your mentality. This is one of those " we grow together" & "go big or go home" placements to me. You both are your biggest supporters and motivators. There could be an age gap involved, but not necessarily. Though, there could be a power imbalance at first as well.

Ex: My mother has JPC Juno in the 9th house in Scorpio. My father always comes to her for advice but sometimes it comes off very pressuring. Wanting to get the "right" answer (my dad has a Virgo moon in the 9th house btw & an 8th house Stellium in leo 💀) They have a 5 year age gap

Again, Beyoncé has this placement, with Jay-Z being her "guide". They have a 12 year age gap.

🍨 Tenth house

You may feel like this relationship is a lot of work i.e added responsibility as you may have to take on a lot of added commitments when you do get with them. You will be more motivated to reach your goals or ambition. You'll feel more secure, and more "seen" around your partner. Your relationship may be somewhat practical or work centric as well. You may enjoy public displays of affection quite often.

🍨 Eleventh house

You are able to be whoever you want with your person. Keeping them and yourself on their/your toes, constantly trying something new together and seeing where your ideas take you. You are able to see each other's perspectives how you want to be seen; it seems that around your partner you have 20/20 vision. Seeing through their grandiose, and somewhat odd antics & vice versa.

🍨 Twelfth house

There is a strong spiritual, almost fantasy-like quality here. Your relationship is private, and by that I mean both of you may desire constant solitude or privacy regardless of the type of relationship you may have. You are in love, and that's all you need to know. You're not trying to be someone you're not, and both of you are able to tune into each other's emotional state and perspectives easily. Being with them feels freeing, like you've finally found someone who loves the same thing you do. This is one of those "true love" placements. If aspected poorly however, there can be manipulation and addictions involved. However, certain karma may be attached as well. In some cases that leads to break-ups & inconsistency.

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Thank you for reading!

@northopalshore

@northopalshore Juno persona chart 2024 all rights reserved. Disclaimer

[acid-ixx]

Ohhhhhhhmisggashoosghhh

I love everything about "before the bell rings"

Such masterpiece such peakness oh my goodkdasssdffrddf. Couldnt stop thinking abt it couldnt stop rereading it its ltrly currently 3:11 am rn i wasnt aware of the time all i know was that i was obsessively drawing this man with your story in my mind my god i couldnt stop giggling and blushing n i had to take few breaks n paces in my room to cool off

HOPE U ARENT TOO WEIRDED OUT

— related post ! (tw: a bit nsfw, non-con kissing)

OHMYGOD. OHMYGOD!!! user luffyadolover you are the gift that keeps on giving because WHAT THE HELL??? more than five sketches of this feral, horny man and HE'S SO HANDSOME ILYSM FOR THIS!!! i'm actually so down bad i had to stare at the last image for a few minutes because YOU DREW THE ENTIRE SCENE SO WELL.

i love the first image, you drew him so well, the slick-back hair and everything!?!? with him looking all so proud of himself when he chooses something for his spouse that they actually really like, as if he didn't just planned to ignore you or to simply hastily choose whichever looks the fanciest; that was the plan until his brain haywires just witnessing the absolute joy on your face every time he picks something right; imprinting the memory of your smile in his brain to the point he sees it every time he blinks— so now it's become his daily mission after falling for you to traverse each and every shopping site and malls in his batcave to ensure you only get the highest quality of gifts. mind you, he is a very dedicated man, bruce wayne doesn't give up so easily.

AND THE SECOND AND THIRD IMAGES TOO !!! with his mask on, you couldn't really tell just how obsessed he is, due to the blunt face he always has to wear, but the comparison of him without; with the stare that speaks of a million promises all dedicated to honoring and cherishing his beloved spouse. he doesn't need wedding vows when his eyes (always almost unexpressive, unable to fully show the full range of his emotions; vulnerable in the midst of worshipping his sleeping, little deity) already presents what your future life would like with him.

it doesn't matter if you're drooling, or butt-fuck naked. if i say he's remembering every small, incoherent detail about how you sleep, what position you sleep in, even the position you bury your head in the pillow, let that devotion cement in the very crevices of his mind and in every corner of his heart. it wouldn't matter anyways that you're sleeping alone, hugging a pillow (that should've been him) now, because soon, you'd be quickly migrated in his bed, in his arms, and you won't be getting out. he'd be too invested in the smell of your hair, the feel of the pudge in your stomach, and the seams of your clothing rubbing against his thighs to even allow you to let go.

AND GOD, THE SKETCH WHERE HE'S JUST LICKING THE SPIT AND ALL?!? my brain is malfunctioning, i'm going insane. this is my favorite fanart of yours so far, i'm so grateful for your existence because you've graced me 😭 i'm absolutely not going to deny the future accusations of me writing for debauched and absolutely feral and/or horny bruce wayne!!! trust me when i'm telling you that he's not only memorizing exterior parts of you, but bruce promises (it's actually just him justifying his actions) himself that he has to remember what the inside of your mouth feels like to fully and properly kiss you before your wedding date arrives, just to establish how much of an absolutely perfect husband he will be for you.

to make up for all his past mistakes of absolutely ignoring you, to ensure you that it's not you who's the problem— it's him and he has to fix it all. he has to guarantee that you won't even dare look at another man; even if it means watching you every night disguised as the bat, then coming home to the manor (your shared home, soon) by the time the sun breaks out of its sleepy stupor, just to dream about what it'd feel like pinning you willingly and taking you all for himself after your honeymoon— how could a man like him stop dreaming about his beloved spouse? how could he control his hands to stop lingering beneath his utility belt just to touch and pleasure his body the same way he wishes to worship yours?

the answer is: you don't. or rather, you couldn't.

so if you ever feel your lips becoming more and more sore every other night, and notice the trinkets from your desk and even undergarments from your closet now missing... well, you'll soon know who the culprit is...

a/n: no, i do not tolerate this behavior irl. once again, pls be aware guys that this is a yandere blog (and i've been writing content like this for years) and i'm bound to write more extreme concepts compared to this. the only element that never disappears from this is that i'm writing under the sub-"category" of soft yandere. that doesn't mean it doesn't stray away from the eventual dub-con/non-con.

once again, thank u so much for the dedication to send me so many good fanarts @luffyadolover ��🥹, although i may not always reply quickly, i appreciate you and all the other fanartists who spend their time drawing inspired by my content. it's truly an honor, and in all my years of writing, you guys are one of the reason why i still continue to write <333

[linxnnalyn]

hey arty! how are you?

first of all, your acc is the cutest thing ever, I really do love seeing how effort you put in every detail of it <3 it makes it really pleasant to look at :)

hmm so I'm craving for a lesbian reader x donna beneviento, I would love to see kinda of love at first sight and reader worshipping donna pretty much like a goddess?

so fluff and smut if you can, ofc!(sub donna!!!!)

thank you, and have a wonderful day/night^^

-🐋

Donna with a fem! S/O who worships her like a goddess [FLUFF AND NSFW HCs]

࣪𖤐.ᐟ note -> I'm doing fine thank you! I did put a lot of effort into my blog theme :3 I adore Donna Beneviento so much I love this request <3

࣪𖤐.ᐟ warnings -> NSFW.

࣪𖤐.ᐟ content includes -> servant! reader, (SFW) love at first sight, worship, kisses, cuddling, (NSFW) sub! Donna, body worship, gentle kisses, hickeys/bite marks, eating out, fingering, cuddling after sex.

࣪𖤐.ᐟ FLUFF:

۫ ꣑ৎ It was quite easy to fall in love with Donna at first sight, after all who wouldn’t fall in love with a cute dollmaker? Even though she covers her face. While you might have fallen in love with her at first sight you knew that Donna might never love you, and even if she did it would take her a long time to become vulnerable with you.

۫ ꣑ৎ But things change once the two of you do get into a relationship. You’re no longer just her servant but her love too. Donna is very awkward and flustered at the start of your relationship, especially with the way you practically worship the ground she walks on. Donna almost cries every time you kiss the massive scar on her face and call her beautiful.

۫ ꣑ৎ Donna is quite surprised by the way you worship her like a goddess. She isn’t disturbed by it but it is surprising and overwhelming. Donna doesn’t believe that she deserves your love so to have you worship and take care of her brings her to tears every time. She's so grateful for having you in her life.

۫ ꣑ৎ At the beginning of your relationship Donna would get quite flustered when you kiss her, but after a while she becomes bold too. Stealing kisses from you while you work around the manor or kissing you while you cook. She loves the way you practically melt under her touch.

۫ ꣑ৎ Donna loves cuddling with you at night. She loves the feeling of your warm body against her own, and knowing that you’re still here and that you wouldn’t abandon her helps her sleep at night a lot better than when she slept before the two of you got together.

࣪𖤐.ᐟ NSFW:

۫ ꣑ৎ Donna is very awkward and insecure the first time you two make love. She feels very vulnerable and she is scared that you wouldn’t like how she looks. But her worries are drowned away the moment you start worshiping her body, kissing her gently and complimenting her and her body between kisses.

۫ ꣑ৎ She adores it when you leave hickeys and loves bites all over her neck, shoulders and thighs. Donna is obsessed with them and she loves to give you some too, especially on your neck. She also especially loves the way you kiss her while your fingers and knuckles deep inside of her.

۫ ꣑ৎ Donna would hide her face in the crook of your neck as you finger her, too flustered to face you. She looks so cute and adorable as she tries her best to hide her moans from you as your fingers are knuckle deep inside of her pussy, making her thighs shake from the pleasure.

۫ ꣑ৎ She would quietly whimper and moan as you eat her out like a starving woman. She’s red in the face and flustered as her fingers are in your hair, pulling you closer against her pussy. Poor Donna almost faints from the way you look up at her with such devotion in your eyes and kiss her thighs, mumbling compliments against her skin.

۫ ꣑ৎ After the two of you are done Donna would wrap her arms around you, resting her head against your chest as you hold her. Donna can’t contain her smile as she traces your skin, mumbling how much she loves you as you kiss her forehead before falling asleep.

[d3cay1ngst4tic]

contents. suguru geto x gn!reader. obsessive themes. grotesque imagery (<- as always). dark undertones to worship. they’re both equally sick in the head LMFAO.

★ jiah’s notes. so i’m very normal about this. NAE. kisses your knuckles you are soooo smart. i hope you don’t mind me adding my own brainvomit to this well.

deity!suguru, who only ever lets you worship him. treats others like dirt under his feet who deserve nothing but to be scrapped off completely for being utterly, unbearably foolish. you, on the other hand? he’d let you braid flowers in his hair if you asked.

deity!suguru, who finds it amusing how eager you are to take care of him. you can barely keep track of your own meals, yet here you are, tasting each and every fruit to check if they’re sweet or not, only then handing it to him. (<- he doesn't mind how your marks fill the sickly sweetness like some sort of careless claim over him.)

deity!suguru, who revels in your devotion. you’re like a dog who always comes back with a wagging tail, teeth closed ’round shattered bones, with devout eyes which glaze over when a praise or two slips from his cooing lips. oh how he loves the fact that even though his hands reek of blood, you nuzzle into them like something too rapturous to touch— how his divinity is all you see, leaving out the sharp, cracked edges for the other commons to gape and run away from.

deity!suguru, who says nothing but gaze down at you with a sardonic smile when you kiss his knees with bloody lips and hushed prayers on your tongue. he’d said the earlier words with a careless lisp, that even though you’re his most beloved worshipper, you wouldn’t dare kill for him. but here you are, dropping the one he’d wanted dead like some sort of twisted prize at his feet, tilting your head up to look at him with wobbly lips and a burning fidelity in your touch that didn’t flicker once.

deity!suguru, who only ever gives you his blessings— placing his hand on your hair and smoothening out the tangles that’ve built over in your utterly devoted haze, murmuring sweet little nothings into your ears and filling your head with soft, condescending promises. he finds it amusing how your eyes never light up when he blesses you, almost as if you’re hurt by the faintest possibility of wanting something in return— as if the greatest gift that you could ever attain is his holy presence, and nothing else. (he blesses you because you’re the only one who doesn’t crave it.)

deity!suguru, who only sleeps with his head on your lap. your frail fingers run through his hair— he’d never let anyone else touch them— eyes wide in awe, betraying the exhaustion that clings to your bones. he adores it, he really does— the way you look at him as though he’s this unspeakable, unattainable treasure— like a mere whisper of his purity will give you all the salvation you need. (he loves the crippled reverence that stains your hands red.)

deity!suguru, who loves that you always have some sort of excuse for his actions. like he could never do wrong in your eyes. such a naïve little lamb you are, licking the blood off his teeth even though you cough and splutter from the burn in your chest, (choosing to be blind to the fact that it’s not his but someone else’s.)

deity!suguru, who alters your fate without you knowing, so you’d have to worship him in every lifetime. who said gods couldn’t be corrupted? and he’s a little greedy like that— greedy for the reverence you bring that’s a tad bit rough ’round the edges, greedy for your hands on his face when you praise him for the tales of nobility that’d never existed in the first place, greedy for how you tuck your head under his chin and shiver from the overwhelming serenity of his being. he thinks he’ll die if he doesn’t get to be your god all over again.

deity!suguru, who loves, loves being the ache between your bones and the fatal light-headedness of your innocence. <3

original idea by @sugurusladyknightt . added on by @d3cay1ngst4tic. do not copy or post any of my works.

[lavandulawrites]

He Watched

Yandere!Loser (Adrian) x reader

I had really fun writing this<3

Adrian’s (yandere loser) character profile

Masterlist Original Characters Masterlist

Warnings: implied masterbating, yandere, stalking, obsession, possessiveness, overprotectiveness, Adrian is totally unhinged, some religious imagery

He watched. He watched you through your windows as you went about your day. You never noticed him. Even when you looked in his direction, you never saw him. He was invisible. A ghost wandering among the living, latching onto you like if you were the sun and him the moon.

He watched you get dressed, eat, sleep. He watched you watching your favourite stupid TV-series, he had also started watching it and it felt like the two of you had your own little series-marathon. He watched you get late for work, stumbling down the driveway with your hair a total mess (though it only made him live you more). He watched you laugh. He watched you when you have your friend come over. He watched as your friend tried to make a move on you, but you firmly showed him away. He watched as you cried over your friend. He watched your mother hug you, your father holding your hand, your little sister holding onto you and your big brother petting your back. He watched you mourn. He felt even closer to you now that he has seen all your emotions.

Snow filled trees turned into blooming cherry trees, the brown dirt turned into lush green grass, that withered away and return to dirt. One thing remained the same: you.

A normal human being would feel remorse for causing you so much pain, but he didn’t. Because why would he? Why would he feel bad about protecting you? Adrian had done you a great favour. Don’t you know that there are plenty of creeps wanting to drive their claws into your soft flesh at any given opportunity? You were so naive, that it made his heart go all soft and gross.

You were the oxygen he breathed and the blood that ran through his veins and kept him alive.

You wouldn’t take that away from him. Right? If you did, he would wither away like the grass outside of your house and die.

Adrian needed you and you needed him. For how many times hadn’t he saved your life? How many times hadn’t he pulled the strings like a guardian angel? His white wings had long blackened and the fall from grace was high, but it was a price he was willing to pay. Black horns had sprung out in the wild black chaos that was his hair. When the moon was high and the shadows looming, he swore he could almost see a black spaded tail swishing behind him.

Adrian remembered when his mother used to take him out to church when he was younger. He had never really been that religious, but the worshipping had always fascinated him. Now he knew how his mother felt. You were the new deity in his life and he was your most devoted follower. At night he was on his knees in his room in front of your alter. He worshipped you with all his might and prayers of your names fell from his tongue in moments of ecstasy.

When his bedtime came, he kissed the pictures of you that hung over his bed like a cross. His dreams were all filled with you and your beautiful eyes.

He watched as his pale hand knocked firmly on your door (he had removed your doorbell to keep your interaction with others minimal). He watched as his fingers wrapped around the bouquet of red roses, in a way to ground himself. He watched as your door creaked open and the scent of you flooded his senses.

He watched as your eyes gazed into his accompanied with a soft smile. He watched as your smile widened as he introduced himself. He watched as you took his flowers and let their smell hit your nose.

He watched as you offered him your hand as you invited him inside.

[darlingdreadwrites]

cam 5

pairing: Edward Nashton x GN!Reader*

part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

summary: Edward is finally rewarded with the warmth of your touch and affection – or is he?

contains: reader working at a bookstore, slight dom elements, obsessed Edward, religious imagery, suggestive touching, riding

warnings: MDNI, *AFAB!Reader but i don't specify gender, dub-con, stalking, degradation

word count: 3.1k

masterlist

For a moment, Edward feels as though he is floating. He is suspended in a massive plane of darkness, unable to move. He doesn’t remember the last time his mind was so quiet, so peaceful. It was as if he was in a realm between time and space – until he finally opens his eyes.

He was in the bookstore – your bookstore – standing in front of two bookshelves. You were there, standing in between them, shelving books. The sight of you surrounds him with a warmth that emitted from where you stand, ethereal and glowing. You were something angelic, and yet undeniably human. Edward could feel the weight of your presence settle in his chest like a blessing. You were an impossible vision, a being neither entirely of earth nor heaven, a force that demanded worship and devotion. The shelves around you seem to bend toward you, as though bowing in reverence.

The room stretches upward, spiraling to an unseen paradise. The air feels thick, and his view of the world is heavy. The shelves move never-endingly; they were no longer neat rows of books but towering spirals getting sucked into a luminous void behind your figure.

His breath catches as you finally turn to look at him, a kind smile on your face. You approach him with the grace of someone who already knew his every thought, every longing—someone who had chosen him. Your steps are soundless on the polished floors, and he feels an impossible pull to be closer to you, as though his soul is tethered to yours. He can almost not feel the pain in his chest. A throbbing, pulsing hurt that recedes once you get close enough. Or maybe it was that the pain had consumed him enough that he grew numb to it. It doesn’t matter in the end, you’re here now. You are warm, kind, and comforting – a stark contrast to the strange, twisted cathedral around you.

Your hands are soft, the kind of touch that felt both maternal and intimate. You cup his face like you were cradling something precious. Your thumbs graze over his cheeks in a way that makes his eyes sting. He is too afraid of you disappearing if he blinks. Your face tilts, studying him like he has any worth. He is fragile and tender, so tender. Edward feels cherished – safe. His knees shake slightly under the weight of this moment, but he fights it. He should be on his knees before you, but he wanted to stay between the warmth of your hands. As he gazes up at you, he can’t help but tremble.

For a moment, there is only peace – a powerful, sacred peace.

A whimper escapes him as you apply pressure to his face, fingers digging into his skin. Your nails sting while you grip him tightly, the smile on your face unwavering. Your fingers press harder, squeezing so hard that his mouth falls open with a sharp cry. And just as the pain started to become overwhelming, your grip loosens.

One of your hands slides down, dragging your nails over the curve of his neck, down his chest, and it burns. Edward shudders under your touch, the sensation not entirely painful, not entirely comforting – just too much. He swallows hard. The heat of desire and shame tangle together in a painful knot.

Then, the words came. Soft, lilting, but slicing through him.

“You’re disgusting.”

The words – so cruel – come from a place where malice and sweetness are one and the same. Your smile, still welcoming and pleasant, belies the puncture of your statement. His confusion makes him dizzy. There is nothing that feels right about the words, nothing logical about them, and yet… they are the only thing that make sense. They are what he needs to hear. He flinches, his body responding involuntarily.

His heart hammers in his chest as you tilt his chin up, your thumb pressing into his skin in a way that makes him ache. He feels small and insignificant under your gaze. The hand that wasn’t on his face travels lower, palming and pressing against his groin with deliberate force. His mind screams at him to reject the sensation, but his body betrays him. He jerks, hips twitching into your palm – seeking more of that sinful pressure. He can’t breathe, can’t think as his chest heaves. The shame twists inside him as his eyes widen.

“Please…” he whimpers, his voice cracking as the smallest shift in your hold on him causes him to moan.

You lean in, your face hovering just inches from his. Your beath was warm on his trembling lips.

“Filthy, filthy thing,” you whisper, the words ghosting against his skin.

The bookstore around you both begins to collapse, the arches crumbling into darkness. The shelves twist, warp, bend in on themselves. The golden light dims to an abyssal void – yet you remain bathed in a holy light. He is consumed by you – by your presence, by your touch, by the haunting words. You hold him in place, your smile syrupy and mocking as you get closer to him. He reaches for you just as your lips brush his.

Edward wakes up with a strangled cry, drenched in sweat. He bolts upright, wide eyes attempting to make out anything in the darkness of his apartment. His heart pounds like a drum, and painfully. The sensation of your touch still scorches his skin as his mind races. He touches his face where your hands had been.

There is a purpose to that dream, he rationalizes, you’re calling to me – touching me beyond this plane of reality.

Edward sits at the edge of his bed, staring at the empty coffee mug on his desk. The remnants of the dream still cling to him like a phantom touch. He’s spent the better part of an hour replaying it in his head. The way your voice had curled around that single phrase – “You’re disgusting” – makes him shiver even now. He is repulsed by the fact his body seems to enjoy how you insulted him with such a loving tone.

He needs to get out of his apartment.

It was suffocating him now. It was logical to get out, wasn’t it? He has been cooped up here for too long, buried in the glow of his monitors and the labyrinth of code he’s been pouring over for weeks. Normal people went out to public places. They sat in cafes, walked in parks, and – yes – they read in bookstores. It wasn’t suspicious for him to do so. It wasn’t strange.

I need to take care of myself.

The thin veneer of his words failed to hide the truth he is unwilling to admit. His attention drifts to the books relevant to his research on his desk. And now, here he is, preparing to go back to the same bookstore under the flimsiest of excuses.

Edward stands and moves to his closet, fingers brushing over the very few neatly hung shirts as he tries to decide what to wear. It wasn’t like this was a date – it wasn’t – but he can’t help the flutter of nerves in his chest as he debates between the gray sweater that makes him look softer or the green button-up that matches his eyes.

He settles on the sweater. Soft was better. Non-threatening. Approachable.

Next comes his hair. He stands in front of the cracked mirror, meticulously combing it into place only to muss it up again. He runs his fingers through it over and over, muttering under his breath how it refused to cooperate. Finally, he gives up and leaves it as it is. He wipes his glasses clean on the corner of his sweater, holding them up to the light to check for smudges. He can’t help but picture you noticing them, leaning in close with a teasing smirk to point out a speck he’d missed. The thought makes his cheeks flush, and he shoves the glasses back onto his face almost frantically.

“Okay,” he whispers, taking a deep breath and facing his mirror again. He attempts at practicing a warm, friendly smile – but it seems too unnatural on his face. He raises a hand and waves, practicing what he’d do if he saw you. “Hello. How, how are you today?”

It was completely normal for me to rehearse like this. I’ve seen it in movies.

Doubt creeps in as he assures himself.

He sits back down on his mattress, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. Was this really okay? As self-reproach gnaws at him, he replays the dream – your voice just as sharp and cutting as you call him disgusting.

Edward’s stomach churns. Maybe he is disgusting. He shuts his eyes tight, trying to block out the image of your kindhearted, smiling face from the dream. The image of your hands had roamed over him, one of them traveling lower and lower until—

“No,” he snaps, standing abruptly. He can’t let his mind go there; he can’t let his body failing him again before he stepped out the door. He doesn’t have time to touch himself – to relieve himself – again.

He paces the room, his steps uneven and hurried. He mutters to himself that it’s fine to go to your bookstore with no other reason than to just be there.

With a determined breath, he grabs his coat and slings it over his shoulders. He hesitates only once more at the door. His hand stills over the knob as your voice echoes in his mind again, soft and cruel all at once. “Filthy, filthy thing.”

His grip tightens, his knuckles whitening around the doorknob as he shoves the memory aside. Instead, he focuses on the warmth of your touch – the comfort he felt as you held his face in your hands.

Edward steps out into the deafening silence of the hallway, the door closing behind him with a resolute click. He tells himself that he isn’t walking toward you. He isn’t trying to chase the fleeting connection he felt in the dream. He is only going to read.

And that isn’t a lie. Not entirely.

Edward pauses in the doorway of the bookstore for a moment, overwhelmed by the familiar scent of paper. There were a decent amount of patrons this evening, the distant hum of conversation creating a low symphony of activity. Edward’s gaze sweeps the room until he catches sight of you. You stand behind the counter, your back to him as you help someone. Even from this distance, you are magnetic. Your presence commands his focus with the same intensity as the figure in his dream—

His heart beats so fast it feels like it might bruise his ribs. The dream! It was vivid and consuming, filling his chest with reverence, dread, and arousal.

“Just… sit,” he tells himself, forcing his legs to move away from you.

He wanders through the aisles, feigning interest in the messily arranged books but barely registers the titles. His sole focus was finding the perfect vantage point. At last, he finds it – a small table tucked into a corner with a direct line of sight to the counter.

He sinks into the chair with a small smile, placing the book he’d grabbed at random on the table in front of him. His fingers fidget with the edges of the pages. His eyes flick up to you every few seconds despite his best efforts to focus on the text.

Stop staring, he berates himself. You’re making it obvious.

But your pull is too strong. Each glance was a sin, a stolen moment of connection.

Edward’s mind begins to betray him as the dream bleeds into reality. In the dim bookstore light, your form seems to glow faintly. The edges of your silhouette blur and he blinks hard, trying to dispel the illusion.

“You’re disgusting.”

He whips his head to the right, a soft gasp on his lips. You were not there – nobody was. The words echo in his mind and his stomach twists. He snaps his attention back to his book, suddenly feeling like all eyes were on him. You didn’t say that. You wouldn’t – not to me.

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat as he feels your hands snake all over his body. He was starting to feel remorseful again, but it isn’t enough to make him leave.

Then it happens.

You turn, making eye contact with him almost immediately, as if you had felt his presence. For a moment, your eyes meet, and you smile. A smile that was merely a polite gesture to others, but to him, it was as inconsequential as it was devastating.

Edward’s heart hammers so loudly that he is certain you are able to hear it. His face flushes, and he quickly looks back down to read the words swimming before his eyes in a meaningless blur.

You saw me.

The thought reverberates in his mind, equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. He clings to the image of your smile. It is everything to him. A slow smile spreads across his face, eyes wild and glued to a single word on the page. “Passion.” It is almost fitting – actually, it is perfectly fitting.

The minutes tick by, stretching into an eternity as he sits there and sneaks glances when he thinks you won’t notice. He can’t stop – not even when each look feels like a delicious risk.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a darker thought begins to spread. This isn’t enough. Sitting here, watching you from afar. It is a poor substitute for what he truly wants. What he truly needs.

Edward swallows dryly, his hands gripping the book as his imagination runs wild. He pictures you looking at him the way you had in the dream – not with polite indifference. But with a look of intensity of someone who wanted him.

You’re touching yourself – or touching him, he can’t tell from the proximity – breathing heavily and looking at him with half-lidded eyes. Neither of you are wearing any clothes. He can feel your skin, but his mind refuses to conjure up what your body might look like even as he desperately tries to look down at you. You both moan, sweat covering both of your bodies in a sticky tangle of limbs. The fantasy spirals, painting an intense picture of you closing the distance between you. What he believes is your perfect, naked body on top of his – thighs caging his hips and grinding sensually as you throw your head back in pleasure. He's embarrassingly loud, sputtering and panting like a dog while you’re mewling softly and elegantly.

He grunts in frustration, trying to squint and make out your peaked nipples or how your heat rides his length in vain. His hands grab onto your hips to bring you impossibly closer to his stuttering hips – he was so close. You look down at him to smile sweetly. It softens into something fond as you lean down to whisper in his ear. He can almost feel your breath on him, hear the saccharine venom of your words—

“Stop it,” he says under his breath, shaking his head to dislodge the fantasy.

He needs to leave. He’s throbbing with a discomfort that borders on pain.

Edward stands, the chair scraping loudly against the floor as he pushes it back. He grabs the book and returns it to the nearest shelf, his movements clumsy. As he makes his way to the door, he can’t resist stealing one last glance at you. You are busy again, helping yet another customer with the same warm grin that had shattered his composure moments before.

The bell chimes violently as he steps outside, the cold evening air hitting him like a splash of cold water. That’s what he needs – a cold shower. He shoves his hands into his pockets, his mind buzzing with visions of him and you. He was disgusting.

The water steams down Edward’s back in scalding rivulets, but it does little to wash away the lingering sensations of the day. His shower was supposed to be freezing – a penance to purge himself of the memory of your smile and the fantasy that followed. Yet, it hadn’t taken long for his resolve to crumble.

Edward had given in – his mind stuck on every detail of your fleeting glance at the bookstore, every imagined touch from the dream and fantasy. He’d cursed himself through gritted teeth even as his body betrayed him, chasing an unbearable high that left him slumped against the shower wall. He felt ashamed and hollow.

Steam fills the small bathroom, the heat now oppressive as his mind begins to clear. Edward slides down on the wet tiles, burying his face in his hands. The sound of water drowns out his sobs.

The words from his dream ricochet through him, cutting through the fog of his exhaustion. He winces, stomach feeling like it’s coiling at the memory – no longer making him feel aroused.

No, you’re wrong, he protests pathetically. I’m not disgusting. This isn’t disgusting.

He clings to the threadbare justification like a lifeline, dragging himself back to his feet as the water cools to a lukewarm drizzle. Edward shuts off the shower, the sudden silence amplifies the turmoil in his mind.

He dries himself and avoids his reflection in the mirror, unable to face the pale figure staring back at him. Instead, he focuses on his hands – hands that had sinned against you. The same hands that would someday cradle your face like you had done his. If only he could make you understand.  

Back in his room, Edward plops down into the creaky chair at his desk. Like a robot, he searches for your computer. The webcam feed blinks at him, and there you are again. At the sight of you, he almost wants to cry once more. The smile from the bookstore lingers in his mind. His eyes drank in the soft curve of your lips, the way your hands moved as you organized something on your desk. The image of your hands from his fantasies resurfaces, making his heart ache.

“Thank you.” Edward wets his lips, his voice a dry whisper in the quiet room. “For bringing this angel into my life.”

He clasps his hands together, fingers interlocking tightly in prayer. He isn’t sure who he was thanking – a god he’d long since abandoned, fate, or perhaps the dream itself. All he knows is that he feels chosen, as though your existence is a message meant solely for him.

The fantasy builds again as he stares at you, unbidden and unstoppable. In his mind, he sees you smiling at him the way you had in the dream – soft and cruel all at once, yet impossibly kind.

[demolitionsweetheart]

Smut headcanons

Knuckles the Echidna x reader

Request: the sonic smut hcs were scrumptious, can I have the knuckles flavor? :3

A/n(please read): again, so sorry about the pace I'm posting at... Once I get everything under control I'll start posting more regularly :3 (also I said 'like other's on one of them.. I was referring to the other smut headcanons for the other characters)

NSFW!MDNI

✪ There's not a specific place he's sensitive—his whole body reacts to your touch. He gets flustered so easily, burning with embarrassment at what you do to him... But in the long run, he loves it. Loves you. :3

✪ Relatively low sex drive, but when he’s in the mood? He’s rough and ruthless. Like it’s your fault he’s so worked up. But you love it. His intensity depends entirely on his mood—sometimes, he’s utterly in awe that you’re even with him, reverent, zealous, and oh so sweet in his touches Other times, he’s so consumed by his desire for you, so much more than infatuated, borders on desperation.  He lives to please you.

✪ again, it’s completely scenario-specific. Some nights, love is a sacred, bonding act, just loyal and devoted. Other nights, he’s so blinded by your divine form, he’s lost to it, fast and rough, unintentionally bruising your hips.

✪ He loves claiming you. Absolutely hates wasting his seed on your tummy :( He wants to fill you, needs to see you stuffed full. Though, he can’t deny how much you fluster him when you tease him—when you drink him down or smear it across your chest. He tries to be gentle, but by the end, he’s pounding into you, watching your body take him, obsessed with your ethereal afterglow.

✪ Loves marking you with his teeth. He doesn’t mean to be rough, but he’s entranced by the color it leaves behind. A visible reminder you belong to him—as if it wasn’t already obvious. But his obsession with you goes beyond physical desire. His loyalty and devotion to you is borderline unhealthy.. He's too far in to ever pull away.

✪ Like the others, he loves going down on you. Insane about your taste, addicted to the way you shudder on his tongue. But even more than that he’s obsessed with the way he makes you feel. He needs to hear you. Competing with himself, pushing to hear you louder, to make you fall apart under him. It’s almost a game to him—seeing how many times he can make you cum before he even thinks about his own release.

✪ Prefers positions where he can see you. Mating press is his favorite—even if you only end up there by accident. He holds you firm, drives into you deep, teeth sinking into your skin as he loses himself in you. But when you ride him.. He’s a nervous mess. Flustered out of his mind but completely into it. Loves and hates when you make him beg—hates how needy it makes him sound, but god it's what makes his cock twitch.

✪ Not loud, but he’s always making some kind of sound. Praises you the whole time until the pleasure overwhelms him. Then it’s nothing but ragged breathing and his mouth dropping into a cute ‘o’ shape as he comes undone. Raw, unfiltered confessions slip past his lips because it’s more than just desire—it’s you.

✪ Unintentionally good at dirty talk. If he tries to, it comes out stiff and awkward—too formal. But when it’s unfiltered, in the heat of the moment.. his adorable words rend you. Because it’s not just about his hunger for your body, but for your whole heart and soul.

✪ I truly believe he worships you. Even in the most mundane things, he puts you on a pedestal. It’s always your pleasure before his, even if it means struggling to hold himself back. He’s in love with the way you make him feel..like a drug. He won't ever overcome the chokehold you have him in..doesn’t even try. Your body, your heart, your voice, your pretty eyes— he loves everything. And when you take control.. He’s a mess. When you express your love for him, even when you don’t have to, hes completely lost and overwhelmed by the depth of his own feelings.

✪ Total aftercare king. The moment it’s over, he’s tucking you back into your clothes, running a bath, making sure you’re okay. He knows how tiring and all-consuming it is, so he carries you like a princess, whether you just want to cuddle or eat something. Almost overdoes it, but he never means to be overwhelming—just wants to make sure you’re safe. That you loved feel :3

Thank u for reading and that you for your patience :3

My requests r still open. I'm trying to get thing done, ik..

[dokjafang]

whats your opinon on yan vampires?

♡ Book. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.

♡ Word Count. 576

♡ Banner / Mentioned Story. 🔞Will you scream? Or will you beg?

When it comes to Yandere! Vampires, I don’t go for the usual romanticized, angsty, or gothic portrayals. Instead, I base my interpretation on the real origins of vampire myths—historical cases, early folklore, and actual criminal events that shaped the concept of vampires.

♡ Historical Basis of Vampires.

The vampire archetype wasn’t born out of fantasy but fear—specifically, fear of the unknown, disease, and serial killers before the term even existed. Some of the earliest “vampires” were actually:

Folkloric Figures: In Eastern Europe, corpses were sometimes exhumed and found with bloated bodies and blood at the mouth, leading to beliefs in revenants.

Plague Victims: During outbreaks, bodies were found in states of decomposition that looked unnatural (e.g., receding gums exposing more teeth, bloated stomachs). People assumed they were rising from the grave to spread disease.

Real Killers: Figures like Elizabeth Báthory (1560–1614), accused of bathing in the blood of virgins, or Peter Kürten (the "Vampire of Düsseldorf," 1883–1931), who drank victims' blood, reinforced the monstrous image.

♡ Yandere! Vampires: No Clichés, Just Psychological Horror.

If I were to write a Yandere! Vampire, it wouldn’t be some brooding immortal with tragic eyes whispering about eternity. Instead, it would reflect the true horror behind the myth:

Bloodlust as a Ritual: Killing and consuming someone isn’t just an act of hunger; it’s deeply intimate. This aligns with how historical cases of vampirism often involved obsession and ritualistic behavior.

Possession, Not Just Love: Yandere behavior stems from extreme obsession and control. A true vampire yandere wouldn’t just stalk or protect their darling; they would see them as something to be consumed, owned, and preserved—perhaps in a literal sense.

Eroticism and Death: Historically, vampirism has always been tied to both seduction and violence. Rather than softening it into a fantasy, I’d lean into the disturbing, almost religious reverence of taking a life in the name of love.

Kinks: Blood Drinking / Blood Play, Vore, Sanguinarianism, Biting / Marking, Feeding Control, Total Ownership / Objectification, Hypnosis / Mind Control, Sacrificial Play, Necrophilic Undertones, Fear Play

♡ Comparison to Yandere! Sukuna.

I view Yandere! Sukuna in the same way. A "soft" Sukuna is a contradiction. If he were to cherish someone, it would be through the ultimate act of consumption—literally savoring his darling as a meal. This isn't mindless brutality but an act of twisted intimacy. Similarly, a true Yandere! Vampire wouldn’t just protect or admire their darling; they would worship them in the most visceral, horrifying way possible.

♡ Final Thoughts.

I respect different takes on yandere vampires, but for my own writing, I refuse to dilute them into fantasy tropes. A vampire’s love is terrifying because it’s not love—it’s hunger disguised as devotion.

────────────

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “Ink & Insight”:

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology ♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World. ♡ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. ♡ Book 5 [you are here]. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.

[npookie0]

AHHHH I LOVE YOUR WORK SOO MUCH

I was wondering if you could make a Ronin x devoted reader (basically the reader would do anything ronin tells them too. Almost like they worship him)

The Devil's Devotee.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Content Warnings <3

- Obsession

- Literally a fucked up reader

- Ronin ahh behaviour

You've been warned <3

»»————-　♡　————-««

You are in love with the Devil. The man who barged into your life one day and completely changed everything in it. He wanted to shape you into his little fallen angel, but he didn't expect that he would turn you into a demon. A demon devoted to the Devil like Christians are devoted to God.

You felt like you could do anything and everything for Ronin. Fulfill his every whim, his every desire.

And oh, did he use it to push you further and further into destruction. He wanted to see how rotten you could become, how low would you go just to earn his praise, just to hear the Devil's sweet whispers of demoralization to you.

<@goreboy>

come on darling paint Your hands red make Them match with the Devil baby

That was the first thing you saw this morning. A new challenge! A new way to gain Ronin's warm gaze focused on you, a way to hear his temptations. Oh, how ecstatic it made you feel.

You were in an alley. Dressed up in the colour of your lover's eyes. A knife in hand. Excitement filled you whole, made your heart beat faster and faster.

Oh yeah, you are at the point of no return. You are his rotten darling, he just needs to see it fully.

As you were walking around, your feet took you to the devil's den on their own, like they were under some kind of spell. A spell to guide you to your next victim. A man who was either too cocky or stupid for his own good, he wanted to be a living proof that purgatory wasn't dangerous.

Oh, how unfortunate he was that night.

There wasn't too much struggle, no running away. He wanted to scare you away, only to end up with his ribs crushed, throat open and face frozen in fear for eternity.

As you were admiring the fruits of your work, you heard someone's chuckle from behind. Steps left by heavy boots, and a sound of something metal dragged along the ground.

"My, my, what a sight."

It's him. Your Devil.

"To be fair, I was wrong about you."He was standing right behind you. "I thought that you wouldn't go this far, but hey! It seems that you had the guts to do it, and in my alley? Oh, how sweet of you."

You turned to him, his hand was outstretched for you, you took it and he pulled you up.

"Look at you, you made a mess even of yourself." He chuckled.

"You don't like pure things." You whispered.

"You're right. I don't." He whispered back. "That's why I love how messed up you made yourself for me. A little messy demon, just for me to see."

What a pretty gift the Devil's devotee gave him.

[ashs-cardboard-box]

Severed Innocence

~ Stanford Pines/Male!Reader ~ Horror/Gore (Day 3) ~ Implied fucked up romance. ~ 2k words TW/CW: DISTURBING CONTENT. Stanford yandere behavior, obsession, HEAVILY implied religious-esq worship, dehumanizing reader? kidnapping, suggestive comment, noncon kiss at the end, implied cannibalism. If Tumblr had a dead dove tag, this could probably classify. Proceed with caution. NOT CANON TO THE GRAVITY FALLS STORYLINE. An alternate AU. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

How long had it been since that night? You were perfect. You were His devoted creation. What ever happened to you? You couldn’t remember. Who were you? Furthermore, *what* were you? A possession. His treasure. His prized creation, that’s what. Stanford cherished you. He put in the effort to make you into something great; something that could withstand even the harshest of punishments. Ones that couldn’t harm your physical being, of course. He knew that. He had never dreamt of causing your pain, but sometimes things needed to happen in order to take steps forward. You knew that, right? It didn’t seem so. A flaw. One single kink in a wire to cause His charade to come crumbling to pieces. What a shame… you were so close to being perfect. Everything He’d put his life’s work towards, all for this? He was upset. But, not at you –*Never* at you– At his own failures. Of course wires were bound to kink once inserted into the muscular system. A simple mistake on His part. He’d just have to fix it and kiss away your tears later. You had known Stanford for a long while. At least, you think so. It’s hard to discern what’s real and what Stanford had put into your head. You vaguely recall meeting him and F[REDACTED] in…what was it again? Why couldn’t you just remember? It’s not like Stanford could tell you the truth. No.. that’d just be spitting in the face of all of His carefully crafted lies! Meeting some little weirdo, “Fiddleford”, meeting His brother hiding in some motel–the failure that he is–even going to college with Him. He’d made it all up. After graduating from West Coast Tech, going back to New Jersey to brag catch up with His family, especially to see how little Sherman was faring. Stanley had tried and failed to break His perpetual motion machine when they were younger, which almost got him kicked out, but Filbrick, for once, had mercy. Though, they never talked anymore. He decided to move to a quaint town in Oregon called ‘Gravity Falls’ in search of pure solitude. It was quiet..mostly. Right up until He met you. Truthfully, He didn’t remember the exact meeting. He was getting older now, but He knew you wouldn’t care. You couldn’t. You were unable to. Though, despite the fuzziness, He remembered becoming immediately enamored with you. The way you spoke, the way you gesticulated, your hair, your smile, your voice..and right then, He decided He needed to have you. He’d spent a fair few nights rutting into His pillow, just thinking about you, right up until He got the courage to finally break into your house one very special night. You were so cute when you slept, how was He supposed to just leave you there?

Ever since, Stanford had been nothing but loving to you. Keeping you fed, housing you, bathing you, holding you. Up until the night you found an old picture of him with a clone? ‘Stan O’ War’.. What a silly name. He looked so young then. But, deeper inside the drawer, there were notes. Things about human anatomy, notes on conductivity of wires and tubing, the boiling point of blood, the symptoms of shock, all sorts of prototypes on his crafts… you became aware of what you shouldn’t have.

Stanford thought you were trying to spite Him. How could you try to peel the wires out of your arm? The ones He’d meticulously put into you with such care? Didn’t you love Him? He hated having to restrain you, but it was for your own good. Why couldn’t you see that? Having to strap you down with a chain around your limbs and your throat, to the wide table in the center of His “lab”, as He calls it.

“Why do you make me do this to you, sweetpea? You know how much I hate hurting you...” Stanford coos as He gently pinches your cheek in His calloused, six-fingered hand. His other hand securing a leather strap over your forehead, keeping your head still. “Let me go!” you plead, but a harsh slap across the cheek forces you to shut up again.

Stanford’s brow furrows in irritation, tugging the slack of the belt to make sure the strap is tight. He wouldn’t want you escaping and accidentally hurting yourself, after all.

“Good boys remember their place, doll.” He scolds as He maneuvers His hand down to the base of your skull, burying His fingers in your hair, feeling around for something unknown to you. “Reprogramming you could take a while.” Stanford muses to Himself, a grin splitting across His lips as His fingertips finally locate His small microchip in your skin. It was the first time He brought your attention to it; knowing your sudden tendency to pick at His work to pull it out of your skin, He didn’t want to risk it whilst you were unrestrained.

“Reprogramming..?” You mumble with a thick swallow, feeling a lump in your throat as terror rips through you. Stanford only nods, as if He hadn’t inserted a chip into your spinal column. Admittedly, He’d made you more android than human.

After that first night He’d kidnapped brought you home, you fought like an animal. That’s no way for a pet to act, He felt. What, with all of your thrashing and biting and screaming, He couldn’t just leave you like that. He took time out of His life, time you never appreciated, to meticulously shape you back together. He made you perfect. You were nothing without His work. If He was everything, your Savior, what were you?

“I tried to be nice to you.” Stanford grunts as he moves just out of your field of view. You can hear the stretch of elastic, which you assume to be gloves, and the clatter of metal against metal. “I tried to treat you with care. I even tried to give you a little freedom to fully express what little humanity you had left.”

Tugging against your chains, your heart sped up. You needed to get out of here. This guy was nuts. Your head was still foggy, as if you’d just woken up from a long nap. You could hardly remember much of your past anymore, but it didn’t matter in the moment. Your breathing was ragged in your panic, your eyes stung with unshed tears.

“Still.” Stanford finally comes back into your view, pulling a metal service cart with him. A gloved hand wrapping around your forearm, His thumb digging in painfully into your skin, with intent to stop your writhing. “You were so close to becoming complete. Something desirable.” He spits harshly, lip curling back into a sneer. You were such a pretty boy. It was a damn shame you made Him do this to you. “Though, I’m not surprised you turned out this way. Always so defiant, you were…” Stanford mumbles under his breath, finally pulling His hand from your arm as you begin to freeze up, trusting you won’t struggle anymore. “But it’s okay!” He reassures. It was like a switch had been flipped. From being the nastiest man God you’d ever met, to washing away your woes in an instant. “It’s okay, because I can fix you again!” He explains, a prideful glint in his yellow eyes. Black pupils dilating immensely as a grin splits across His face. “I’ll untangle everything inside you. I can put you back together!” “But,” He continues. “It might hurt a little bit.” Picking up another leather strap off of His cart, He leans over and forces it between your teeth to bite down on. You don’t really have much of a choice. The feeling of your molars sinking into the fibers of the leather belt makes your skin prickle with goosebumps of discomfort, your tears starting to fall.

“You'll be fine, sweetpea.. You'll be fixed in no time.” Stanford whispers, swiping a thumb across your tear streaked cheek in hopes to comfort you. He can feel His heart clench in His chest, just wanting to hold you again, but that would have to wait.

Turning back to His cart, He picks up the shiny scalpel, running His index finger over the sharp blade scrutinizingly. He wouldn't want it to be dull when He begins to cut.

Moving His hand back down to your forearm, feeling exactly for the knot in your wire. His fingers trailing up and down your skin, gentle caresses in contrast to His intentions.

Finally sinking His blade into your skin, cutting through you with ease. In an instant, your blood begins to seep out of the burning wound. Your muffled screams ring out behind the belt stuffed between your teeth, trying helplessly to tug at your restraints, making your chains rattle around your neck and throat.

Stanford cuts into your flesh with ease, yellow eyes peering down at you scrutinizingly. His blade cuts through each layer of flesh with a surgeon-like precision. The sound of your blood hitting the floor echoes in your head, each drop falling into the blossoming puddle.

“Such a good boy..” He murmurs under his breath, not entirely sure you could hear Him over your thrashing. Your vision starts to tunnel as His blade sinks into your muscle, finally reaching the wires inside. The minute kink was enough to make you short circuit, it seems.

Your muscle spasms as it's cut into, your brain protesting against it but unable to stop it. From the bend of your elbow, to the inside of your wrist, gaped like a fish, down to the bone.

Stanford gingerly pulls apart your skin and muscle to see down inside you, it makes His heart race and pants tighten with a twisted satisfaction. Grinning madly as His finger tips caress your bone, He can't help himself. Leaning down and sweetly kissing your exposed bone, your tangy blood coating His lips.

“I could just eat you up, doll. You taste just as good as you look.” He whispers, His tongue darting out and lapping at your blood. Standing up straight again, His fingers prod painfully at your muscle, pulling the tendons apart like shredded chicken, spotting the wire much more easily.

Setting His bloody scalpel down, letting you bleed freely onto the floor, He picks up His tweezers, using them to press-bend the wire, straightening it out again.

“There we go. Now, was that so hard?” Stanford inquires rhetorically, chuckling to himself. His voice rings in your ears, your brain trying desperately to block out the searing pain shooting up your arm. You'd stopped crying by now, which definitely makes Him feel better.

Replacing His tweezers with a needle and thread, He pushes the needle tip into your tendons, working meticulously to sew everything back together. The pain is almost dull in comparison, your hand feeling like pins and needles stabbing into it from nerve damage.

His fingertips feel hot to the touch, melting right through His gloves, pressing right up against your exposed blood vessels, but you can hardly think long enough to understand what's going on. Searing your vessels back together with an inhuman ability. He's experienced, but not enough to fix *everything*.

Sewing your muscles closed around your bone, followed by your skin. Though, instead of wiping you clean, He leans back down and runs His tongue over your fresh stitches, feeling the cross pattern weaving in and out of your flesh.

Your frazzled brain can hardly register it anymore. Stanford's presence is one your brain tries to block out entirely, but His yellow eyes pierce your subconscious. Trailing slimy kisses up your arm, leaving bloody kiss prints up your bicep, over your clothed pectoral muscle, your cheek, then your lips, even if you don't kiss back.

One of His hands slides up your chest, to the back of your neck, then to the base of your skull, feeling for that same chip and pressing the tiny button. In an instant, it feels like your pain is swept away, returning to your numb, complaint state. The wires in your muscles connect back to your chip, your programming forcing you to remain obedient, like a good pet should, as you kiss Him back. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Tumblr was FIGHTING with me on this one gang Return to masterlist

[dioslesbianwife]

hello its me 🦇 anon and the brainworms are at it again and i cant sleep because of finals so can i req jofoes x reader who is like Helena from a midsummer night’s dream by Shakespeare :3

if you aren’t familiar with it Helena is basically willing to do anything for the person she’s inlove with even if it means demeaning herself (one of her most famous quotes is “let me be your spaniel!” Like ok girl i see you) despite that energy not quite being reciprocated and easily assumes people are working against her,, like i wonder how they’d be with that sort of one sided devotion towards them and their goals. Like yes reader knows they’re like murderers or just egotistical (im looking at you diego) but they dont gaf, hell their beloved looks majestic while preaching about heaven or being the ultimate creation or whatnot

hi 🦇! sure, and i hope your finals went well too <33 hope u enjoy and thank you for requesting ^^

Dio

He is absolutely enthralled by your self-degradation.

You crawl after him, practically begging for his love, saying you’ll be anything he wants- his pet, his toy, his devoted servant- and he just… grins.

“How poetic… groveling before a god,” he says, running his cold fingers under your chin to tilt your teary face up to his.

He doesn’t love you- yet- but your obsessive loyalty earns you a spot at his side. Or more accurately, at his feet.

The way you sob and shiver just to be acknowledged strokes his ego like nothing else.

“Let them call you foolish,” he murmurs, “but remember- fools die in the arms of kings.”

Kars

He sees your devotion as beneath him, but fascinating in a weirdly flattering way.

You weep and wail about how perfect he is, how you'd willingly die if it meant helping him achieve his vision of beauty and godhood.

At first, he thinks it’s pitiful… but there’s something so human about your desperation. Something he almost envies.

“You would burn for me? Bleed for me?” he muses aloud. “Even knowing I cannot love you?”

He doesn’t stop you. In fact, he lets you follow him, lets you believe you’re needed.

He’ll never correct your belief. Because gods enjoy being worshipped.

Yoshikage Kira

You scare him. A little.

You profess your love in long, unhinged monologues. You tell him you don’t care about what he’s done- you’ll love him no matter what.

Kira is a man who wants to go unnoticed, and your loud, undignified affections are the opposite of subtle.

But… when he watches you cling to him, eyes full of love, even while he’s cleaning blood off his tie…

…he can’t help but feel seen in a way he never has before.

“You’re ridiculous,” he sighs. “But I suppose… I do enjoy your loyalty. As long as you’re quiet.”

Diavolo

He lives for it.

Your blind adoration is the perfect ego boost for a paranoid, power-hungry man who demands control.

When you fall to your knees and sob that you’d gladly be his pawn, his knife, his pet- he cups your cheek and smirks.

“You understand, don’t you?” he breathes. “That your suffering is necessary. Beautiful, even.”

He uses your love like a leash. Sends you on dangerous tasks just to see how far you'll go.

“Let me be your spaniel,” you plead.

“Then bark,” he whispers, and you obey.

Doppio

At first, he’s confused. Then bashful. Then obsessed.

You cry over how wonderful he is, how you'll do anything he asks- and it completely bewilders him.

“Y-You… really think I’m that amazing?” he stammers, face flushed.

He doesn’t fully understand the scope of your devotion, but he loves the attention.

Even when Diavolo surfaces and treats you coldly, Doppio tries to make it up to you.

“You’re so sweet to me… you must really love me, huh?” he murmurs as you press kisses to his hands, begging him to never send you away.

Enrico Pucci

You are the perfect lamb in his eyes.

You kneel before him, tears in your eyes, whispering praises as he speaks about heaven and fate. He looks at you with something close to affection.

“To be so devoted… even in your smallness, you are divine,” he says.

Your pain is sacred. Your suffering is scripture. He encourages it, rewards it with crumbs of gentleness.

“You’d die for me?” he asks, as you weep and nod. “Then live for me instead. Serve me until the end of all things.”

You’d follow him off the edge of the world, and he knows it.

Diego Brando

He’s a little freaked out. Then turned on. Then smug.

You cling to his coat, sobbing about how majestic he looks on horseback, how you’d kill for his approval. He sneers but doesn’t push you away.

“You’re pathetic,” he scoffs, “but at least you recognize greatness.”

He’s so arrogant, he uses your worship as fuel. Brags about how you’d lick his boots if he asked.

If anyone insults you, he defends you- only because you’re his worshipper.

“Touch my little fan again,” he growls, “and I’ll slit your throat. They belong to me.”

Funny Valentine

He is intrigued. Deeply.

Your Helena-level desperation fits perfectly into his “patriot’s sacrifice” narrative.

“You’d suffer for me? Then you already understand what it means to love this country,” he says, gently brushing a tear from your cheek.

He praises your devotion in speeches. Uses your love to demonstrate loyalty. To him, you are an example.

But sometimes… he wonders if he’s starting to feel something too. Something beyond the utility of your affection.

“One day,” he says, “you will be rewarded. Until then… endure.”

Tooru

He’s both amused and intoxicated by you.

Your obsession is like music to him. You call him beautiful, weep at his feet, kiss the ground he walks on- and he drinks it up.

“You’re so weird,” he chuckles, brushing your hair behind your ear. “But damn...”

He tests you constantly. Manipulates you, pushes you, pulls away. You always come crawling back.

You say everyone’s against you, and he leans into it. “They are, babe. But I’m not. I’m all you’ve got.”

You smile through tears. He gives you a kiss on the forehead. You melt.

[yanderes-galore]

How about a yandere concept or scenario for yandere follower! Narinder with darling who has a crush on the Lamb? <3

Sure! I don't write Follower Narinder often ^^ He's a broody cat.

Yandere! Follower! Narinder with Darling who likes The Lamb

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Cults, Religion, Stalking, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Isolation, Jealousy, Brainwashing, Marriage, Dubious relationship.

Narinder doesn't expect to be attached to any of The Lamb's Followers.

They're all pawns to The Lamb.

Although, as a Follower himself now, he's been slowly learning to get along with the mortals.

He doesn't have much of a choice, right?

He was humbled in their last battle.

Now he has to force himself to play nice with The Lamb and their cult.

At first he does it all begrudgingly.

He does tasks, listens to sermons, and plays good follower.

He doesn't entirely enjoy much of his new life.

Not until he started noticing The Lamb's most devoted Follower.

You are The Lamb's most loyal Follower.

You've been by their side for a while, long enough to earn a Skull Necklace and be brought back from death's claws.

Narinder would know... He swears he's seen you at least once.

He doesn't usually pay you much mind.

Although... Recently, at The Lamb's urging no doubt, you've been welcoming to him.

You've given him gifts, spoken to him, and always looked so curious.

It's almost... cute.

Such thoughts are quickly pushed from the cat's mind.

Cute? Seriously?

You... You aren't cute.

Narinder keeps telling himself such a thing.

Yet... He keeps looking over at you when you do your tasks throughout the cult.

You make flower crowns, you leave gifts for The Lamb, you're so dutiful... So devoted...

He's actually envious.

It's stupid, he really shouldn't feel that way.

He should also stop purring when around you

Narinder definitely seems like the type who's just in denial of his obsession.

He doesn't like you like that... That's a stupid mortal thing.

Yet at the same time he stares at you with wide eyes from a distance.

He can deny himself all he wants.

Although, nothing can hide the way he stares and follows you around.

He may be oblivious to it, or ignoring it, but Narinder does have feelings for you.

He can't help but wonder, if he was still a Bishop... would you ever have prayed and worshiped him as much as you do The Lamb?

Narinder tries to ignore the envy he had, but it proves difficult.

Even more so when he sees how you act with The Lamb.

You praise them, make them more valuable gifts, you hug them, show affection, let them pet you...

To anyone else in the cult, two things are clear.

Narinder has feelings for you... but you only have feelings for The Lamb.

To make it even worse?

Perhaps The Lamb even reciprocates.

There isn't a lot Narinder can do as a Follower.

It's not like he can attack and kill The Lamb.

So physical violence is out of the question.

However... Here's an idea.

Manipulation.

Maybe Narinder, as the original bearer of the Red Crown, tries to influence you.

You may like The Lamb... but what if he tries to change your mind.

Not enough to dissent, but to turn you off romantically towards The Lamb.

For example, encouraging another Follower to pursue The Lamb.

After all, if you can't get rid of the competition by violence, simply drive them away.

Narinder might plan on having The Lamb marry another Follower.

That way you'd be heartbroken enough to no longer pursue The Lamb.

Once you no longer seem interested, Narinder will swoop in to comfort you.

It's strange... having a past God of Death comfort you after your heart gets broken.

He's awkward with it, unsure how exactly to comfort you at first.

Yet Narinder gets the hang of it eventually.

He practices on making gifts and practicing what to say to you.

Narinder doesn't bother hiding his purr around you anymore.

If he's gone so far as to sabotage your budding feelings for The Lamb... He definitely adores you.

Sooner or later, his plan may even work.

Maybe you'll soon confess to Narinder, making the cat perk up once he hears your words.

Narinder would want to make things official as soon as possible to stake his claim over you.

He'd have The Lamb set up a marriage ritual with you, and Narinder would give you a ring at the altar.

It's a devious plan... having your old crush officiate the pairing.

By the end of it, Narinder never lets you go.

He insists you two sleep in the same tent, purring the whole time.

With subtle manipulation and brainwashing his obsession...

Narinder can make you all his...

Even without the Red Crown's power.

[siringadev]

"Without Nero, There Is No Me": The Significance of Mutual Love in the Characters of Nero and Weiss

Additional context from Dissidia Final Fantasy Opera Omnia provides crucial insight into the relationship between Nero the Sable and Weiss the Immaculate, confirming their love is deeply mutual, not one-sided. This spin-off game adds emotional depth to their bond, revealing Weiss’s feelings for Nero are as intense and defining as Nero’s for him.

1. Mutual Love and Dependence:

Nero’s Perspective in Dirge of Cerberus:

In Dirge of Cerberus, Nero’s obsessive devotion to Weiss is front and center. His willingness to destroy the world to save Weiss and his emotional outbursts when Weiss is threatened paint him as a tragic, almost unhinged figure.

This portrayal can make their relationship seem one-sided, with Nero as the obsessive lover and Weiss as the distant, dominant figure. A god that Nero worships.

Weiss’s Perspective in Opera Omnia:

Opera Omnia reveals that Weiss’s love for Nero is just as profound. Even after losing his memories, Weiss feels a deep void and instinctively knows that someone important—Nero—is missing from his life.

His declaration, "Without Nero, there is no me," underscores Nero's integral role in his identity and purpose. This mutual dependence highlights the depth of their bond, showing that Weiss is not just a passive recipient of Nero’s love but an active participant in their relationship.

2. Weiss’s Vulnerability and Incompleteness:

Memory Loss and Longing:

"But I do feel like I had someone like that... Someone who cared for me... understood me," Weiss’s struggle to recover his memories of Nero reveals his vulnerability. Despite his pride and strength, he feels incomplete without Nero, emphasizing how much his brother means to him.

His willingness to serve Sephiroth—a figure he would normally disdain—just to regain his memories shows the lengths he will go to reunite with Nero.

Declaration of Love:

When Weiss regains his memories, he openly acknowledges Nero’s importance, stating that Nero is his only brother and that they share a bond forged through their shared suffering and defiance of Deepground "Like me, he was born through experimentation as a Deepground SOLDIER. He fought against our taskmasters to win our freedom, all while I was on the brink of death".

His admission that "Without Nero, I'm still incomplete" reinforces the idea that their love is not just emotional but existential. Nero is not just a brother to Weiss; he is a part of Weiss’s very being.

3. Their Shared Trauma and Defiance:

Deepground Experiments:

Both Nero and Weiss were subjected to unethical experiments in Deepground, transforming them into powerful but tormented beings. Their shared trauma binds them together, creating a sense of solidarity and mutual understanding.

Nero’s defiance of their taskmasters to win their freedom, even while Weiss was on the brink of death, highlights his role as both a protector and a liberator. This act of rebellion cements their bond as one of equals, not just a one-sided obsession.

Escaping Together:

Weiss’s belief that they "awakened the planet and departed from it together" suggests that their ultimate goal was not just survival but liberation—a shared dream of freedom and unity.

Their separation is portrayed as a tragic deviation from this dream, leaving Weiss feeling incomplete and desperate to reunite with Nero.

4. Weiss’s Dependence on Nero:

Pride and Vulnerability:

While Weiss projects an image of pride and self-sufficiency, his dependence on Nero reveals a deeper vulnerability and a softer side. His declaration that he will "try to do it all himself" is immediately undercut by his instinctive call for Nero, showing how deeply ingrained their bond is.

This moment of vulnerability humanizes Weiss, making him more than just a cold, calculating antagonist. It also reinforces the idea that their love is not just emotional but essential to their identities.

Other Characters’ Observations:

Characters like Vincent and Shelke point out Weiss’s dependence on Nero, highlighting how their bond is visible to others. Their comments—"Without Nero, you can't do anything"—underscore the symbiotic nature of their relationship.

Weiss’s reaction—proudly declaring his independence only to immediately call for Nero—adds a touch of humor and pathos, emphasizing the depth of his attachment.

5. Themes of Love, Identity, and Completeness:

Love as Identity:

For both Nero and Weiss, their love is not just an emotion but a fundamental part of who they are. Without each other, they feel incomplete, as if a part of themselves is missing.

This theme of love as identity is central to their relationship, making their bond both beautiful and tragic.

Completeness Through Unity:

Their desire to be together—whether through merging with Omega or simply reuniting in Opera Omnia—reflects a longing for unity and wholeness. This theme ties into the broader Final Fantasy VII narrative, where characters often seek connection and belonging in a fractured world.

Tragic Dependence:

While their love is mutual and profound, it is also marked by a tragic dependence. Their inability to function fully without each other underscores the cost of their bond, as it leaves them vulnerable and incomplete when separated.

Сonclusion of the analysis:

The relationship between Nero the Sable and Weiss the Immaculate is one of the most complex and emotionally resonant in the Final Fantasy VII universe. While Dirge of Cerberus focuses on Nero’s obsessive devotion, Opera Omnia reveals that Weiss’s love for Nero is just as deep and defining. Their bond is rooted in shared trauma, mutual dependence, and a longing for completeness, making them two halves of a whole. This dynamic adds layers of tragedy and beauty to their story, highlighting how love can be both a source of strength and a path to vulnerability. Their relationship is a testament to the enduring power of connection, even in the face of overwhelming darkness and suffering.

[panchulien]

Hi!! I love your Makanolan writing, it's one of my favourite pairings and I think you present it perfectly.

But I also just had a thought.

Makarov is a Russian Ultranationalist. Nolan is not Russian.

Not in a negative way, but do you think Makarov ever asked Nolan why he wants to restore Russia to greatness when he ain't even Russian.

Personally, I think the Australian is just in it cause of Makarov(Devotion to the point of joining a different belief than your own), but I wanna hear what you think?

Have a wonderful day<3

Thank you so much, I don't see many people who like them, so your feedback means a lot. <3

I've been thinking about that ever since I found out who Nolan was, and I still can't quite figure it out.

I think it's entirely personal at this point, and the biggest proof of that would be his WZ monologue. I know I bring it up often but it's helpful in understanding him. His speech is ENTIRELY about Makarov. At first it's like, yeah he's an idealistic man and he wants to change the history, he sees great potential in Makarov as a leader and wants to help his cause, but I think it becomes personal after that "He wants to see the world aflame? Good. It deserves it. Hand me the match." line. It's about what Makarov wants, it's almost like worship. He's obsessed with Makarov.

(The part about his past doesn't explain enough. "idolized great men of history" like what the fuck does that mean? For all I know he could be a fan of Hitler or some shit. So vague. That's why I choose to think he's been led into this by someone else. It's easy to manipulate young people by promising them glory, make them think they're fighting for something greater. And it seems to have worked doesn't it? Joining the ADF at the age of 17 because he wanted to take part in making history)

Like, what motivates someone so strongly to follow one person so blindly. There's nothing in it for him. Nothing! No personal gain whatsoever. And yet he's still there fighting beside Makarov, following his every order, so hell-bent on burning down the world... AND FOR WHAT???!!

As for Makarov, y'know it'd actually be a very interesting conversation if he ever asked Nolan "Why are you doing this?" I'm very curious what he'd say lol. I think Makarov, whatever reason Nolan has to be there, would take full advantage of him. You don't get men like Nolan often, so what if he's a little bit too obsessed, y'know? Makarov can keep him at his side with the barest of scraps and he'd still follow.

Lastly, I don't think Nolan's the most mentally sane person out there. "Blind faith in Makarov". An unhealthy amount of devotion and "hero" worship. I don't get him!!!!

I apologize if this doesn't make sense, kinda got carried away there, but I truly don't understand Nolan. It makes sense for me to believe he's in this entirely for Makarov, because it's the only explanation that cuts it.

I hope this answers your question anon, have a lovely day as well. <3