lovley-valentine7

[lovley-valentine7]

Hehe :)

[lovley-valentine7]

fuck em up gang

[lovley-valentine7]

you're so pretty. like, you're absolutely gorgeous. have you thought about tidying your room slightly to temporarily but significantly increase your quality of life? you are so beautiful

[lovley-valentine7]

Lesbian Lovers Kissing In Tiananmen, 2006

[lovley-valentine7]

Sacrifice!MC where I blinked and suddenly I had 1.7K words of whatever this is. I am definitely going to edit this later

It was dark, wherever you were. Wherever those masked cultists had brought you.

Shadows hid the dilapidated surroundings, held back only by the truly impressive array of Bath and Body Work candles and the scarce moonlight shining in through the shattered roof. Still, it was barely enough to illuminate the room you were in, but you could tell what it was. Or at least, what it used to be: the remains of an old church chapel. A burned-out husk of its former saving glory, with broken statuettes of angels strewn across the floor and the disfigured images of saints left dangling on the soot-stained walls. What little stone that hadn’t been obscured by decades of ash and grime was completely covered in layers of fresh graffiti. Pentacles, upside down crosses, magic staves, someone’s brave attempt at an ouroboros encircling a moon. Whatever cult had taken you; they clearly hadn’t been at this very long.

You strained against the ropes binding your arms to the corners of the low altar, but they held. Your fingers were bruised raw from struggling to untie the knots, but every time you felt the loops give one of the cultists would march over and redo them with a sort of nervous efficiency. Eventually you’d given up, vowing to at least wait until they left. Even if you’d managed to escape, you didn’t fancy your odds against five other people. Especially when one of them was holding a knife.

It was a strange instrument, a scarlet blade jutting out from an obsidian-black hilt. There was a pommel at the end that looked as though something had been carved onto it. Though you were wary of the blade, it didn’t seem like they were planning on killing you with it. You’d heard something about a sacrifice, demonic affinity, and yadda yadda unlimited wealth, insane riches, convincing their ex to get back together, etc. etc.

So, these clowns, whoever they were, planned to leave you tied up in this gross place as a snack for some demon? Fuck that. As soon as these weirdoes were gone you planned on getting out no matter what, even if you had to chew your bindings off. That still didn’t stop the thrum of panic when the one with the knife ran its edge over your throat and added your blood to the strange symbol encircling the stone slab. Finally, they called out for something in clumsy Latin while the other four made low humming sounds that reminded you more of being in a yoga class than at the center of a diabolical summoning ritual.

Perhaps they didn’t want to stay and watch you get eaten (cowards. At least commit to the experience). Perhaps leaving you was part of the rules. Regardless, soon you were alone in the dark and about to resume your struggle when one of the candles in the corner flickered. You froze, heartbeat ratcheting up when the flame sputtered once, twice, and then died.

As though that was a signal, every single candle in the room began to die. One by one, a cascade of inky blackness and scented grey smoke invaded the temple. You stared up at the ceiling, trying to force yourself to stay calm, to breathe normally. There had to be a reasonable explanation for this. Maybe it was the wind-

You gave yourself a mental slap before the thought could complete itself. That was literally how people died in horror movies!  

“Ha, it worked!”

You shrieked at the strange voice, eyes promptly darting to the source whereupon another scream began to build up in your throat. Up in the rafters crouched a monstrous creature, all red skin and short horns that curled up into pronged tips. Black, bat-like wings stretched upwards, partly blocking the moon. A nasty snarling smirk curved across its thin mouth, revealing rows of sharp teeth and a line of drool dripping from the corner.

The creature jumped down, landing right at the side of the altar, salivating at your prone form while your mind struggled to make sense of this impossibility. You flinched away from the taloned hands, grimacing in disgust when the – demon? Demon – stuck out a slimy tongue and dragged it up the side of your face as though it were savoring you.

“Stupid little humans,” they cackled. “So ready and willing to believe anything from a creature they don’t even understand. If all it takes is a few empty promises, I’ll soon have legions of human servants willing to sell their souls to me–!”

“Ah, I wondered what was going on.”

Like a radio being switched off, the demon above you went silent. No, they literally froze in place. Terrified as you were, an irrepressibly curious part of you couldn’t help but crane your neck as far as the ropes would allow in order to peek behind them and see who was speaking.

They…looked normal. A tall, masculine frame draped in relatively casual clothing. Chestnut brown hair covered most of their face, fading into mahogany at the edges, and revealing only a pair of plump lips stretched in an easy and undoubtedly dangerous smirk. Aside from the black choker around their throat and the array of rings decorating their fingers, this person looked completely ordinary.

Yet, as soon as they spoke, the demon that had been menacing you just a scant second ago began to back away, nearly tripping over their own feet and wings to put distance between themselves and the lazily approaching figure. “L-Lord Zion! I only uh–! I was just…! Th-This was simply a test, you see!”

“Hm?” The person – the other demon? – cocked their head, the smile never leaving their face. Now that they were closer, you could see that the thing moving behind them was a tail. Spade-shaped and blood red as it flicked back and forth in lazy arcs. Those fingers, heavy with silver jewelry, were tipped with viciously sharp talons that they raised to tap their chin in a mockingly thoughtful manner. “Go on.”

“I-It was to see how easily humans could be manipulated!” The other demon stuttered, eyes darting around the room for some escape. When those eyes landed on you, your heart sank as you realized exactly what was going to happen a second before they spoke. “In fact, I was planning to give you this sacrifice! Consider it a token of my loyalty!”

The demon – Lord Zion they’d said – turned to you as though they had just noticed your presence in the room. Your eyes met through the gloom, and in spite of your fear you couldn’t help but think that their eyes were beautiful. Burning coals, molten flame encased behind amber, a heat that threatened to devour you whole. Those eyes widened through the haze of hair, and in a second the demon was looming over you with the toothiest smile you’d ever seen outside of a shark.

“Well, well, well,” they cooed, admiring you with the sort of fervent obsession one might give to a work of art. A hand brushed through your hair, across your temple, before cupping your cheek. “What have we here? Aren’t you precious, hm? Aw, did that mean demon frighten you, little human? There, there.”

The words and tone were condescending, but you weren’t exactly flush with options, and at least this demon didn’t seem inclined to eat you. You winced when their hold on you shifted, and their wrist brushed against the open would on your neck. Like clockwork, their eyes snapped to the line of blood sluggishly pooling in the hollow of your collar.

“Oh you poor thing,” the demon tipped your head to the side, the strength behind a single finger making it clear that you wouldn’t have been able to resist them even if you’d wanted to try. “Let me…”

A surprised whimper broke past your lips. A long tongue trailed its way up the side of your throat, lapping over your skin as though your blood were some delicious treat. Honey-sweet instead of the tang of bitter copper. Those lips latched onto your flesh, nuzzling and nipping while you thrashed and struggled to tamp down the unholy noises emanating from both of you. The sounds of sucking, saliva, lips smacking, you would have thought the demon was enjoying the finest of meals if not for your own high-pitched moans, wails, and pleas.

Finally the demon pulled himself back with a gasp, a feral grin carving his face in a truly infernal mien. “Oh. Oh, I am never letting go of you, Dove.”

“D-Does that mean I’m free to go?”

Your face erupted with heat. You’d forgotten that the other demon was still there. Judging by the irritated expression that crossed Lord Zion’s face, they’d forgotten as well.

They exhaled a long, loud sigh, and then snapped their fingers. In an instant, a bubbling mass of shadows rose beneath the demon’s feet. Slowly, exponentially, they began to sink into the murk like quicksand. “Let me see,” Lord Zion hummed thoughtfully. “You planned to overthrow me, attempted to manipulate humans in my name, and even used my symbol as part of the ritual? All while believing I would never learn of your weak attempts to usurp my throne? For your crimes, you ought to be tortured and slaughtered in front of my court.”

“M-My Lord, I was only–!”

“However,” Lord Zion cut them off, lips twisting in a sadistic smile. One that gained a hint of softness when they looked at you. A clawed finger played with a lock of your hair, twisting it gently before moving to undo your bindings. “Your one redeeming outcome is finding my human for me. So I shall be merciful in return. Pick one.”

“One?” The demon stammered, now only a head straining to stay afloat above the burbling gloom. “O-One what?”

“I said I was planning to kill and torture you, didn’t I?” Lord Zion said placidly, finishing with the ropes and hooking their arms beneath your exhausted body. You leaned against them, unable to even complain about being held bridal style. “So pick one. Think carefully though. Neither will be quick.”

[lovley-valentine7]

What Sebastian Michaelis is like in a relationship (canon compliant and sinfully juicy)

• Sebastian is a demon. Demons do not love, not in the human sense. They do not form attachments or care. Your soul, however, sings to Sebastian. A melody only for him. For the first time in his long life, he didn’t wish to devour a soul; he wanted to keep it.

• A prize. A pet. A beloved possession. You are an indulgent luxury to him. He’ll cherish you in his own dark, twisted ways. You belong to him—and demons are possessive.

• His affection is terrifying. He’ll brush your hair behind your ear and murmur terrible things in your ear—how sweet your soul will taste if you ever betray him. He’ll kiss your knuckles and remind you you’re his. Always his.

• Control is everything. Sebastian doesn’t need to raise his voice. A smile, a look, a single softly spoken command—and you’ll obey. Not out of fear, but because his dominance is magnetic. Inevitable. Because you aim to please, and he knows it.

• He knows your patterns, your weaknesses, your deepest shame. He knows your body better than you do. Not because you told him—but because he watched. He studied. He filed them away like precious artifacts. And if you act out? He knows exactly how to punish you.

• He does not tolerate competition. Jealousy is a human emotion and Sebastian is above such feelings. However… flirt with another man? Dance too long with a noble? The punishment will be quiet. Calculated. You’ll feel his eyes on you all night—like a promise. And later, in the dark? He’ll remind you whose you are. You will be littered in marks, unable to walk, mind blank of anything except for him.

• You don’t pray to your god anymore.Not since him. Not since Sebastian whispered your name like a benediction and ruined the space where your soul used to tremble. He is your new altar. Your new church. The thing you cry out for in the dark. And he adores it—worship turned inside out. Reverent. Obscene.

“On your knees,” he purrs, “and beg like you mean it.”

You do.

You always do.

[lovley-valentine7]

This baby is the most active but gets sleepy so fast too 😭

[lovley-valentine7]

kids get me outta here im stuck in a fake png

[lovley-valentine7]

🩶BLACK BUTLER DISCORD🩶

Hello!! If you're interested in joining an active discord server (that I currently help moderate) for Black Butler then consider joining!

We have multiple channels dedicated to all of the characters, different channels for art, roleplay, cosplay, fanfics and more :D

However, we do NOT welcome any sort of proshippers/darkshippers. We don't allow any sort of homophobia, transphobia, ableism, NSFW (unless you're an adult in the 18+ channel), no slurs, etc.

HERE'S THE LINK FOR THE DISCORD:

[lovley-valentine7]

fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you.

[lovley-valentine7]

does anyone know if we have smoking room tomorrow?

[lovley-valentine7]

i would add more but i ran out of space :(

[lovley-valentine7]

Sorry that I've been gone for a bit! School has been a bitch and I couldn't really think of any ideas :( But I'm gonna try to come back since I already have a few ideas in mind (as well as my drafts)

(P.S. this was inspired by ScribbleMama's Clara and Kree (you can find them only on youtube as far as I know))

WARNING: Soft yandere behaviour, male reader intended, co-depended like behaviour

It's Your Golden Hour

"You've healed the hurt inside me. Now, I will protect you from those hurts."

Moving to an old cabin, surrounded by the forest, was a long time coming. Surprisingly. Almost everyone in your family had left their city to move to a small town, disconnected from most of the human population. Either it being money problems or some breakdown because of the uncertainty of who they were—it all led to them moving.

Now it was your turn.

Arriving at the small town—if it could even be called that with how little people it held—you were greeted with smiling, welcoming faces and small treats from the elders. The people helped you get your things inside the old, but stable cabin, but didn't stick around. Which was probably for the best.

You spent the day putting things away and finding their place in your home. Yet, even after so many things found their homes, there were just as many boxes full of even more things.

That's tomorrow's problem.

So, with a tired, aching body and dull mind, you went to bed. Sleeping soundly before a rhythmic tapping awoke you.

Yan Harpy, who saw you when you first arrived and immediately knew he found the one. It's an old tale, one as old as the trees surrounding the half-bird/half-man creature. But it states that after meeting for the first time with your destiny, you will know in a lights flicker.

Yan Harpy, who spent the day preening and grooming himself so you wouldn't think he was some slob. Even surveying the forest for something to bring as the first gift (he settled on a handful of pine tree branches)

Yan Harpy, who was startled when you didn't welcome him with open arms, but loud screams and wacking. He spent so long preening himself! Was it not satisfactory??

Yan Harpy, who sulked for two days before coming up with a brilliant idea

Yan Harpy, who built his nest on your roof

Yan Harpy, who secretly (aka you know he's were very well) to make sure you don't get hurt

Yan Harpy, who brings you every find from the forest. Leaving it on your front door step and cawing when you come to pick it up so you know who gifted it (it's always him)

Yan Harpy, who soon starts to get closer. Not flying up to his nest after leaving his gift of the day, walking next to you when adventuring through the forest and even joining you in your back garden, where you take care of your crops

Yan Harpy, who, as it comes closer and closer to winter time, gets sadder and sadder. Harpies who don't have a secure, warm nest (which is practically just a larger version of a bird box) leave east to escape the cold. Even as a crow harpy, he couldn't stay the winter. He doesn't want to leave you, afraid that you would find a mate or move somewhere where he could never find you

Yan Harpy, who's filled with those types of thoughts. Each thought making him more depressed as the minutes ticked by

Yan Harpy, who was ecstatic when you offered for him to stay with you. He could stay! But not only that, you invited him into your nest. Your private space. He felt like he was going to faint

Yan Harpy, who built a nest made out of blankets and pillows in your bedroom (there is only one bedroom in the cabin). It was big enough for two people, which meant he would sit down inside it and pat it happily. Inviting you to sit beside him

Yan Harpy, who gets embarrassed by how quickly his winter coat grew in. It made him look like a puffball! That wasn't what he wanted!! He wanted to look distinguished for you...wait...you like it? Well... he guesses it isn't so bad

Yan Harpy, who is like a person heater, seeing as he runs hotter than humans (perfect for cuddling as the weather gets cooler)

Yan Harpy, who, you quickly learn, doesn't really have a name. Most harpies call themselves by their titles in their main family. And seeing as he's the youngest, that was what he was mainly called

Yan Harpy, who spends evenings going through baby name books, trying to find the perfect one (he picked out Circe. What a coincidence.)

Yan Harpy, who growls when anyone approaches you or the house. It doesn't matter if the person is married, single, old, young—he doesn't like them coming near his mate (except for little kids)

Yan Harpy, who, when jealous, just gets clingy and needy. He won't fight or yell. All he can do is think of all the ways he isn't good enough. His feathers aren't soft and neat enough, he isn't strong enough, he isn't a good provider. You'd have to spend a day or week (depending how jealous he feels) cuddling and assuring him that he's perfect the way he is

Yan Harpy, who slept in your bed for the first time during a particularly cold night. It was cold enough that even Circe was shivering. So, you invited him into your bed so both of you could get a night's rest without freezing to death

Yan Harpy, who adores spring. Yes, the shedding it... hectic. But seeing everything bloom once more, gaining back its vibrancy—oh, it makes him want to sing!

Yan Harpy, who let's you use his feathers as stuffing for pillows

Yan Harpy, who loves to hold you to his chest. Feeling your back press against his front makes him feel like time slows down.

Yan Harpy, who preens you every day. Let him brush your hair; he's begging you! On his hands and knees, begging

Yan Harpy, who speaks in chirps, caws and body language, but after some time learnt sign language to communicate better with your

Yan Harpy, who will be your mate forever. He will keep you warm and happy. Just pick take the mating feather and he'll be fully yours. Only yours.

[lovley-valentine7]

Yandere Corrupt Noble Vampire x Reader

Tw: yandere tendencies. blood. death.

Your fiancé was a bit... particular, to say the least.

You came from a once-prestigious family now crumbling under the weight of bad decisions and worse luck. Scam artists, failed businesses, and bankrupt ventures littered your family history like a trail of debris. With nothing left, your desperate parents turned to an underworld organization that promised salvation, a loan that could repay the previous debts and buy time to breathe again.

Just months after the deal, men stormed your home cold-eyed and violent. One struck you down with the back of his hand. Your mother screamed. Your father begged. The message was as clear as day. This wasn't a loan. This was a leash.

Month after month, the house decayed. Servants fled. The once manicured garden grew into an overgrown wilderness that couldn't be managed by one person alone. Dust gathered like ghosts in the corners. You sold everything that wasn’t nailed down just to stall the inevitable. Even your family name couldn’t protect you anymore. In high society, your misfortune became public gossip. Your name whispered like a curse no respectable house wanted to be tied to. Any plea for help was denied by houses who used to be deemed as allies and friends.

So your parents tried one last, desperate gamble: marriage.

You didn’t blame them. But even you knew no one would take your hand, not when the stench of ruin clung to your very name.

Then, as if by divine joke or dark miracle, a suitor came.

Your father burst into your room, flushed and breathless. “You're to be engaged!” he shouted. You thought he was joking. Who would want you? Who would willingly tie themselves to a fallen family?

But contrary to what you thought a carriage soon arrived.

The ride was quiet. You kept your head down, painfully aware of how shabby your dress was, how plain your face must look without the luxury of makeup or maids. When the carriage finally stopped, your breath hitched.

Before you stood a mansion more grand than anything you’d seen. Even in your wealthier days. Marble columns. Carved iron gates. A house drenched in silent, impossible wealth.

You were ushered into a private lounge. Nervous. Curious. Terrified.

Then he entered.

A man like spun gold, with soft blond hair, eyes like fractured sapphires, a smile so calm it was almost inhuman. He knelt before you, taking your hand gently into his own planting a gentle kiss onto the top of your palm.

“I've been waiting for you, my fiancée.”

You were stunned. This couldn’t be right. He was handsome, beautiful even. A prince from some storybook. Certainly not the sort to wed someone the likes you. When you finally found your voice, it trembled.

“Why me...? Why would you? My family’s name is a burden. Everyone knows that. So why...?”

He laughed softly. As if the question amused him.

Rather than answer, he simply promised you salvation. He would pay your debts in full. Erase your family’s disgrace. Restore your name. All in exchange for your hand.

You hesitated. Every instinct told you this made no sense.

But you had no choice. This was your family’s last chance.

So you said yes.

And the moment you did, he smiled like the sun had risen just for him.

You moved into his estate shortly after. True to his word, your family’s debts vanished overnight. The collectors never returned. It was as if the whole nightmare had never happened.

Yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had simply traded one cage for another.

The mansion was enormous. Far too easy to get lost in as you quickly found out. Your fiancé, too, was... strange. He kept odd hours, waking only as dusk approached. You never saw him in sunlight. He claimed sensitivity to brightness, dismissing it with a light-hearted smile.

He rarely ate. At most, you saw him sip red wine from a delicate crystal glass.

He was... too observant.

He knew your favorite foods, drinks, colors, all things you never told him. One day, after you scraped your ankle, he immediately pulled you into his lap to inspect the wound, even though you’d hidden it. His hands trembled. His gaze lingered. For a moment, you swore his blue eyes burned red.

Still, he was kind. Gentle. Overbearingly attentive.

He smothered you with affection: endless gifts, bouquets, soft-spoken reassurances. It was overwhelming, yet comforting.

Until one day, a month before the wedding, curiosity got the better of you.

You stumbled into his study when you were searching for him.

It was a grand room lined with towering bookshelves. You reached for a crimson book that caught your eye, but as you pulled it, a note fluttered out. As you picked it up. Your blood ran cold.

The paper bore the insignia of the same loan company your family had borrowed from. But it wasn’t a ledger.

It was a surveillance report. Detailing your daily routines. Where you went. What you ate. When you slept.

At the bottom, in elegant cursive, was a name you now knew too well:

Your fiancé.

The loan shark.

The puppeteer and mastermind behind all the pain and suffering. All of it.

Your knees buckled. In panic, you grabbed the nearest shelf for support but instead, the wall behind you creaked open, revealing a secret passage.

Drawn by terror and grim curiosity, you stepped inside gripping the paper in your hand.

The corridor led to a hidden chamber.

You saw paintings lining the walls that looked eerily similar to your fiancé, some of them dating back centuries. Trying not to dwell on it, you pressed forward, though a growing unease tugged at you with every step.

And there, illuminated by candlelight, stood your beloved... drenched in blood.

A corpse lay at his feet.

He looked up, crimson eyes glowing, and smiled.

“Ah... my love. You weren’t supposed to see this. Forgive my manners.”

He wiped the blade clean and stepped over the body as though it were nothing more than spilled wine. You backed away, heart pounding.

“You... you're a vampire...” you whispered, the pieces falling into place. The nights. The drink. The stare.

He chuckled, drawing close, his eyes momentarily glazing at the paper gripped in your hand.

“Yes. And the mastermind behind your suffering. I orchestrated it all. Because I had to have you.”

You froze.

“All that pain,” you whispered, “all the suffering we’ve endured… Just to get to me? Why? I-I don't understand…”

He pulled you into a crushing embrace, burying his face in your neck.

“Because I need you,” he whispered. “Because I love you.”

You pushed against him, bile rising in your throat. “You're insane!”

“I’m devoted,” he corrected, licking the side of your neck. “And now you’re mine.”

You screamed as he bit down, drawing blood. The pain was sharp, but your limbs felt heavy and numb.

Your thoughts grew fuzzy. Distant.

“I won't let you control me,” you whimpered.

“Oh?” he grinned, blood at the corner of his lips. “Sweetheart, you already said yes to our love. Do you think you have a choice?”

You tried to speak, but your tongue felt like stone.

“You belong to me. If you run, I’ll find you. If you fight, I’ll tame you. And if you ever forget who you belong to…” he gestured to the corpse, now cooling on the floor, “Well, let’s just say I never let anyone hurt nor have what’s mine. And even if I allowed it. With the debt your parents owed me I would have no trouble in taking back what belongs to me once more. You have no chance to escape my side.”

Tears blurred your vision as he held your face in both hands.

“You’re safe now. As long as you're by my side nothing bad will ever happen I swear it.” he whispered, kissing your forehead. “Let me do the thinking for you. Just rest. Just love me.”

And as the hypnosis stole the last of your thoughts, you felt your lips moving, kissing him back beneath the cold glow of moonlight.

[lovley-valentine7]

trans unity

[lovley-valentine7]

What's going to happen to Favor with this itchio stuff going on?

As many of you have now seen, itchio has had no choice but to fold to the demands of payment processors. This is due to the pressure placed on them from the canvassing of a self professed 'feminist' (heavy on the quotes here) group called Collective Shout.

I have always been pretty vocally against censorship on my pages, I have stated my fears that we can not censor the 'morally repugnant' fiction without queer people also getting caught up in those targets as well. My fears have now been realized in a way that has left myself and many of my friends wondering ... where the hell do we go from here?

I think a lot of us are hoping that itchio rolls back their current stance. As it stands, itchios stance is vague and dangerous for NSFW devs to even try to monetize using their website.

Here we have the outline of what is allowed via itchios FAQ at the top saying that generally fictional content is *generally* fine.... but then mentioned at the bottom is that we must adhere to ALL payment processors policies that your account utilizes.

It was mentioned that Stripe is where most of the pressure is coming from regarding the censorship... so lets take a look at their terms

Oh okay, so NO mature content at all is allowed fictional or otherwise?!

And guess what!

If Stripe finds out you are utilizing their service while selling ANY kind of adult content your funds can get frozen and are not eligible for payouts the minute itchio catches wind! Very cool /s!

Im sure this isn't just a stripe problem either but Frankly im too annoyed to even look into the others.

This is what NSFW devs will now have to deal with, constant worry that their games will get banned at any moment because while itchio doesn't prohibit NSFW the payment processors powers that be DO and we have to do what they want!

And this doesn't just affect NSFW as well, itchio is taking down LGBTQ+ games and games about people's personal struggles with SA. Its never just going to stop at porn.

So... that being said, if you care about sex workers, devs, LGBTQ+ people, people sharing unfiltered lived experiences, freedom of expression, please take a look at this website and sign the petitions and consider the other listed ways you can help this cause as well

Now about Favor...

https://yellat.money/

I'm going to continue working on it because I love this game and want to see it finished, but at this point I am side-eyeing itchio for when I finish the game for the reasons I already mentioned above. Episode 3 should be free so it will not run into issues on itchio but for the other episodes I will be keeping my eyes open for alternative hosting site options, that will be a while off so hopefully there will be a viable option by then.

Thank you everyone for your love, patience and support during this 💕