#maybe its not me that needed to be safe maybe i was subconsciously looking for something else to fuck up. maybe they should be safe

[starlemonbunki]

Red Man In The Shadows

Yandere Dazai X Reader

"Did you really think you would get away that easily, Belladonna?"

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Tags: Yandere Dazai, failed escape attempt, hinted kidnapping, Atsushi gets hurt in the crossfire, Manipulation, reader does subconsciously love Dazai, blood, stabbing, reader gets stabbed, use of "Y/N"

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[Atsushi: pls meet me at the warehouse tonight.]

The text was simple and direct. Two things Atsushi never was.

It came out of nowhere. You two weren't the type to text, other than the occasional "I'm here" and "be there in 5."

Ever since he had found you at Dazai's apartment, cold, fatigued and starving, he had preferred to stay close to you, thus, no need to text.

You had just started working at the agency a year ago. It had been over 13 months since then, and 5 months since you had mysteriously disappeared without a trace. And now, just 3 weeks since your rescue, you had started getting used to the feeling of being guarded. Being safe.

Dazai had left you in that apartment a couple months after taking you there. Had it been a punishment for misbehaving, or a way to evade blame and the law, or just one of his old mind games he loved to play on you, you had no idea. You had gone days, maybe more than a week without food, water, or electricity before Atsushi found you. Starving, cold, and confused, the agency took you back in like a helpless little dog who'd lost its owner. As for Dazai, they'll burn that bridge when they come to it. They know by now that that man was like a cockroach, sometimes he's here, sometimes he's not, but you'll never truly get rid of him.

The warehouse was cold and smelled like the nearby river. No lights, no people, just the moon and the sounds of water pushing against the structures above it. All this felt a little too familiar, and you were just about to leave, until you heard a voice.

"Leaving so soon?" It said. It was a voice you knew all too well, and hoped you would never hear again.

You didn't even need to look behind you to feel the dread of knowing who it was.

The sound of slow footsteps made its way to you like a snake following its prey. The man walked to your side, slender hand on your shoulder, before he finally decided to make his presence known. To make you look at him.

He played with your hair as you stared down at your feet. No, you thought. Not again.

"Hmm? What's wrong, dear? You look like you've seen a ghost!" His voice was still as cheery as it always was, but there was something else there. A hint of anger.

"I don't know why you're acting like this, I'm the one who should be upset. After all, you did betray me, didn't you?"

It was like it was a question. Like when your mother asks you if you did something wrong, even though she knows you did. She didn't need to ask, she just needed you to know she knew what you did.

"Please," you said softly, your voice almost breaking, tearing at the seams. "Leave me alone."

"Huh?" He said. "That's not very nice. I'm just happy to see you is all!"

"No you're not." You spat back, still with a hint of fear and dread in your voice. "You're angry. I know when you're angry. You can't trick me anymore, I know all your moves."

Dazai looked at you with a curious expression, or at least that's how it felt. You were still looking down at your shoes, wondering if they would weigh you down if you ran for it right now. The cold air of the warehouse spit on your skin like little needles. It hurt, but you had other priorities right now.

Dazai stood upright. "Well, guess there's no point in the theatrics now." He said with a sigh. He grabbed onto your arm and dragged you in the other direction. At this point you knew better than to try to fight. Letting him guide you, you kept your eyes to the ground before you finally got a whiff of it. The smell of blood.

Finally you looked up. The scent was strong and came from right behind you. Dazai stopped walking suddenly, and your nose became familiar with the scent. The scent of Atsushi.

You turned around to find your friend soaked in red, tears in his shirt and pants, and blood staining his hair and the ground below him. The blood was dry, meaning he had been there for a while.

"I-I don't understand." You stammered softly. "His ability...he should have regenerated by now..." it took you less than 5 seconds to find the culprit, although it should have already been obvious. You finally looked up at Dazai, at the psychotic man who hurt your friend.

"You canceled out his ability..." your eyes were as big as saucers, and your teeth began to chatter.

"You thought you could run away from me." He said, voice low and deep. His cheerful expression was gone, he wasn't even looking at you. His whole front side was covered in a shadow, as he was facing away from the only source of light you had at that moment: the moon. "But you can't. And because of you, a good man may die tonight."

"No..." you whispered, looking back at the bloody, battered man laying in front of you. "I didn't do this, it wasn't my fault, you were the one who-!"

"Had you just stayed put and waited for me," Dazai's voice was laced with venom as he took a step towards you. "Had you just rejected his outstretched hand this wouldn't have happened. Now you must take responsibility for his death. This is all on you, Y/N-chan. You did this."

You couldn't even look the man in his dreadful, venomous eyes anymore. His gaze hurt more than it should have.

"But you can fix it." He said. You looked back up at him with hope in your eyes and he handed you a knife. "End his misery, Y/N-chan. Finish what you started."

You took the knife in your hands and walked slowly towards the body. His chest rose and fell slightly, he was still breathing, but surely he was in pain. He was at death's door, all you had to do was ring the bell. Then this will all be over.

"I-I can't!" You said, turning to face the man behind you. "I can't do it, Dazai-san! He was good to me! He was my frie-"

"If he was your friend, you would want his pain to be over." Dazai took a big step before you and spoke with a voice as sharp as a blade.

"You have to pay the price for your actions, Y/N-chan." He said.

You looked down at the knife in your hands, and slowly pointed it at Dazai. A small sense of power crept into your soul. All he did was scoff.

"Someone's feeling brave," He said as he stepped closer and closer, until the knife poked at his chest.

"If you want to, you can do it." He whispered, a sense of seduction in his tone.

"After all, I did so many things to you back at that apartment. Your anger may be justified. But it doesn't erase everything you did to that poor boy."

"I didn't do anything." You said. "I was kind to him. He helped me. I didn't have anything to do with what happened to him."

"Play the blame game all you want," He said, "but there's still a body on the floor."

"There's about to be one more," you said. The blade poked deeper into his chest until a trickle of blood seeped out, but all Dazai did was smile.

"Go on, Belladonna." He said with a chuckle. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, "kill me."

One breath. And then another. And then before you knew it the knife in your hands slowly disappeared from view.

You couldn't do it. You couldn't kill Dazai. You didn't know why, after everything he did, he definitely deserved it, but a part of you held the knife back. A part of you wanted to stay with him.

"Good girl," he whispered, taking the knife from your hands as you let go of it without a fight. Suddenly, a cold, sharp pain entered your abdomen and blood spilled from your own lips. Despite that, he held your chin and kissed you, tasting the liquid pain inside.

Once he let go, his lips were tinted red.

"Let's go, Belladonna." He said, as he slowly pulled the knife from your stomach. Your knees buckled, and now you were leaning on him completely. The man took you in his arms and carried you, walking out of the warehouse with you bleeding onto his vest and leaning on his chest.

"Rest, darling." He said as you slowly fell into a deep slumber. He was saying something else, but you couldn't hear.

Meanwhile, Atsushi watched you go, barely even alive.

END

[sleepinthrumyalarms]

— kiss it better

pairing: wednesday addams x fem!oni!reader

warnings: mentions of blood and injury

summary: you come back to wednesday seeking comfort after a nasty fight

word count: 1.8k

“Ow!” a growl of obvious pain rang through the otherwise quiet room, “It stings so fucking bad- don’t press so firmly, that one’s the worst- ouch, Addams!”

“Stop whining like a baby. If you didn’t wiggle so much, I would’ve been finished by now.”

The oni huffed, shaking her head like an irritated horse and letting her chin rest on her crossed arms, a grumpy frown on her toothy mouth. She was sitting in Wednesday’s dorm room, resting her frame on the chair’s back and slouching slightly, providing the perfect angle for the ravenette to fiddle with her rear side.

It was a mess, like a bloody canvas – angry red gashes, some of them deep enough to require stitches, purple bruises here and there... Luckily for the demon, Wednesday was very skilled in not only inflicting injuries, but also treating them.

“You don’t need to do this, really. I heal fast.” (Y/n) grumbled, biting her lip as the cold alcohol – soaked cotton ball slid against her skin.

“I don’t see you healing right now, (Y/n).”

“That’s because I’ve wasted most of my energy on fighting that damned mutt–” a particularly burning cut made (Y/n) hiss, and the (h/c) – haired demon raised her head in a sharp jerk, “Kuso, it hurts, Wednesday!” She snarled, baring her tusks in pain.

“Don’t you snap at me. I’m almost done,” Wednesday scolded, yet still moved closer to gently blow at the wound, hoping to soothe the pain, “Honestly, it’s as if it’s my fault you got into a fight with a werewolf out of all creatures,” she said, reaching for a fresh ball of cotton to quickly dab it in alcohol and press it against a gush that still seemed to be bleeding, “What was the reason anyway?”

The room fell silent for a few moments. (Y/n) seemed hesitant to answer, opting to scratch at her freshly bandaged face that itched immensely instead.

“We... tend to get territorial during Blood Moons... More so than any lycan.” She muttered finally.

“And what exactly did you two brawl over?”

The embarrassment was even more evident on the oni’s face now, and she was grateful Wednesday couldn’t see the pink hue of her cheeks, “It doesn’t really matter anymore. In the end the instincts wore out, and me and the dude agreed not to hold a grudge against each other. You know, for the sake of both our asses not getting kicked out of the academy,” she huffed, obviously displeased with the tie, “You should’ve seen the other guy, though. I definitely won that one.”

“I don’t doubt it. I did see what your monstrous form is capable of. Safe to say its might exceeds that of a werewolf by a mile.”

That seemed to cheer the demon up, and Wednesday could hear her purr quietly at the compliment, “I don’t like feeding your ego and encouraging your self - destructive ways.”

“You liar. I know you love it.”

“Maybe I do,” the small girl said, and (Y/n) could hear the relieving sound of the alcohol bottle getting screwed closed, “But seeing you hurt like this isn’t exactly something I’d choose over seeing you healthy and in one piece.”

(Y/n) sighed, turning around on the chair to look at the ravenette, “Just a bunch of scratches,” she assured softly, “They’ll heal overnight.”

Wednesday’s gaze slid down the demon’s naked top, and her brows knit at the sight of the stitches she had put there. There was a gauze pad just above the demon’s ribs, too, hiding a rather nasty bite-mark from the werewolf’s teeth that looked like it could’ve torn a chunk of the girl’s flesh off if it went any deeper in. ‘A bunch of scratches’ wasn’t exactly how the goth would describe what she was seeing.

“Hey,” Wednesday looked up as (Y/n) leaned closer to her, “Thank you. I’m sorry I got you worried.”

“Worried? Not exactly,” the ravenette denied, her hand reaching up to fix the corner of the band-aid on (Y/n)’s cheek that the demon had subconsciously peeled off in her frustration, “I’m just bitter about having to wake up in the middle of the night to tend to a reckless wounded fool.”

“Sure you are,” the demon girl grinned, moving her palm to rest on Wednesday’s where the small girl was cradling her cheek and tilting her head to press a kiss to the inside of the goth’s hand, “I might just make this a habit if I get treatment like that.”

“Next time I’ll leave you to bleed out at my door,” Wednesday said, her gaze hardening at the demon's stupid proposition, “I’ll get you a clean shirt. Save what’s left of your dignity.”

(Y/n) chuckled, shaking her head at the empty threat, and watched as Wednesday got up, walking over to her closet and opening it. As the demon stood to follow her, a sudden jolt of pain made her hiss, going through her body like electricity as soon as she was on her feet. Every single little cut and bruise hurt like hell, and the girl had to bite her lip to suppress any other pained sounds. She walked up to the ravenette who had already found a tee suitable for the oni’s bigger size, the black clothing folded in her hands neatly as she watched (Y/n) with worry obvious in her usually impassive eyes.

“Thanks.” (Y/n) smiled, taking the shirt to pull it over her head, the soft cotton feeling wonderful against her wounded skin.

“Now off to bed.” Wednesday instructed sternly before moving to grab the oni’s bloodied clothes. She straightened (Y/n)’s sweatshirt with a quick jerk of her hands, looking the torn clothing up and down to determine if it was still salvageable. There were a bunch of holes and claw marks on the fabric, but nothing she couldn’t fix with a good sewing machine. Folding the sweatshirt and dumping it with the rest of her laundry, Wednesday turned to see (Y/n) laying on the bed, watching her with a dopey grin on her face. A small blush made its way to the ravenette’s pale face and she rolled her eyes, walking up to turn off the lights in the room before joining the other girl.

There was still some space left between them on the mattress as Wednesday made herself comfortable on the bed, and the demon frowned, her (e/c) slitted eyes shining in the dark.

“What? Aren’t you going to cuddle me, and cherish me, and make me feel better?”

“I wouldn’t want any of your stitches coming loose.”

That made the oni’s frown deepen. She stared at Wednesday’s relaxed face, watching as the girl laid, unmoving, then, bracing herself for the inevitable burning she was about to experience, the demon rolled over on her stomach, biting her lip as she felt all the heaviness of her body press into the wound on her ribs. Seeing no reaction from the ravenette, (Y/n) scooted closer to lay herself over Wednesday’s middle, her longer legs tangling with the goth’s. When the stinging sensation ceased slightly, the demon exhaled, proceeding to comfortably settle her head on the smaller girl’s stomach and wrapping her arms around her with an affectionate squeeze.

When she moved to prop her chin on Wednesday’s sternum, she found the goth already looking down at her.

“Do you aim to crush me, (Y/n)?” She deadpanned.

“Are you saying I’m heavy right now, Addams?”

“No. But you are aware of how different my weight is to yours, right?”

“So you’re saying you’re small, then?” The demon teased, flashing a toothy grin.

“I could gut you in such a way that when they find your body, it won’t even weigh a third of your normal mass.”

“I can regrow my organs, but thanks for telling me.”

Receiving no reply, (Y/n) turned her head to the side, pressing her pointy ear against Wednesday’s chest. The soft slow thump – thumps of the ravenette’s heart were soothing, and if it wasn’t for a single thing that still seemed to bother the exhausted demon, she would’ve fallen asleep instantly.

“Some of the Furs seem to have taken a liking to you.” She murmured with a small frown.

“Oh. Is this what it really was about?”

“Hnnn,” (Y/n) could practically hear the smirk in Wednesday’s tone, and she whined, squeezing her eyes shut, “You’re a bully. I’m not telling you more.”

“No need to. The picture is full to me now.” The ravenette smiled at the muffled sounds of annoyance the demon let out.

Comfortable silence filled the room again, and both girls were starting to get sleepy. (Y/n)’s frame was like a heated blanket over Wednesday, and, as much as she didn’t want to admit, the warmth was enjoyable. Her own cold feet brushed against the oni’s, but the latter barely minded, raising her head to let out a big pleased yawn.

“Close your toothy mouth when you do that.” Wednesday berated half – heartedly.

“Mmm, sorry… I get tired in your presence easily for some reason.” (Y/n) replied in a low voice, feeling her eyelids getting heavier as she laid her head back on Wednesday’s chest.

“Am I that boring to be around?”

“No, of course not. You just make me feel safe.”

Wednesday’s breath hitched. A wave of emotions flooded her stomach suddenly – there was the dark burning of guilt, too, almost overwhelming the girl, and she let out a shaky sigh. Her hand reached for the demon’s head, thin manicured fingers burying themselves in the (h/c) tresses in soothing caresses. She scratched at her scalp, and a familiar low sound started to rumble in (Y/n)’s chest, one that Wednesday used to find annoying but now had seemed to grow to adore. As the oni purred in her arms happily, the ravenette started to speak, her voice even despite the feelings boiling inside of her.

“I won’t let anyone else hurt you, cara mia. Anyone who as much as tries to lay a finger on you will soon find himself with missing digits,” she whispered, afraid to disturb the demon, making the threat sound ever so gentle, “I’ll take their whole arms even, right up to their shoulders. So that they pose a lesson to others.”

(Y/n) hummed in reply, barely registering the words in her half – asleep state, but the soft tone of Wednesday’s voice served as a lullaby almost, and a barely audible mumble of ‘love you’ left her lips before she fell into a comfortable slumber in her girlfriend’s arms.

But Wednesday wasn’t in a hurry to follow her lead. She tenderly tucked a stray lock of hair behind (Y/n)'s left ear, watching her sleep, and the image of the (h/c) – haired demon stumbling into her room, covered in blood from head to toe, made the ravenette tighten her embrace.

Wednesday would make good on her promise. No one would dare harm her girl ever again.

[askinkiskarma]

Masterpiece

dbf!Jake Sully x (f)Metkayina!Reader

Wc: 2.4k words

Synopsis: Jake Sully comes to settle among the Metkayina and quickly becomes your dad’s best friend… and your biggest nightmare and desire, all wrapped in one smirking, annoying, irresistible package.

Warnings: smut with minimal plot (p in v, fingering, slight degradation kink, slight praise kink, mean!jake, overstimulation, edging, creampie, daddy kink, pet names, age gap)

A/N: i need it besties, i need it bad. also thank you to my bestie @karma-is-a-cat-purringinmylap for the continuous amazing music recoms. enjoy x

“My love’s got a super sweet taste and a wicked mean face and it makes me go ah!

My love’s got a super sick mind, oh, it’s sicker than mine, and it makes me go ah!”

Jake Sully.

Jake Sully changed everything the second he arrived in your village, the second he became one of your dad’s confidants, one of his best friends. The second you laid your eyes on him, a man more than twice your age, and you knew you were doomed. Because he was the most beautiful, the most enticing, the most dangerous man you have ever met. He came by your tent all the time, spent so much time with your dad, you began to find it suspicious, in time. You noticed him. You studied him. Soon enough, you picked up things that other didn’t seem to, that only you seemed to be privy to. Like the way his eyes glimmered with a hint of sickness in them, a tinge of depravity that you knew all too well, that you noticed in him because you recognised it in yourself. Or the way his tail had a few distinct patterns of movement, and the one he displayed, consciously or subconsciously, you weren’t sure, when he was around you was entirely different than any other one that he had around anybody else. Or his scent, how musky and woody it was, and how intense it got when he was in your tent - maybe because that was the only time you were in tight quarters together, so it was the only time it was not diluted by everyone else’s scent. Or how he addressed you - always with a smirk, a smile that could make even the most stoic of people drop their inhibitions… and their loincloths. Kid. Doll. Girl. So many things, minuscule to most, but unforsakable to you.

“It is decided. Jake will teach you how to work a bow and arrow. With everything happening with the Sky People, we need every advantage we can muster. We need to be strong, ma ‘ite. I need to know you’re safe. Jake can keep you safe, I am sure of it.”

“Oh, trust me, I will do my very best to make sure she is ready.” How did your dad not notice it? The way he spoke, like there was always another meaning, a hidden message behind his every word. The way it curled and undulated, the way it left his sinful mouth that was always stretched in a smirk, devilish and unholy. The way you were so damp at the promise of his words, you were scared to death everyone in the clan would be able to smell you. You could smell it. And looking at Jake eyeing you up and down, lingering stares on your lower abdomen, his smirk increasing in size and his gaze in its intensity, you knew he could, too.

And you knew he wouldn’t just let it go.

You were in the woods one day, a small break from practice as you lay on a rock, in a frilly loincloth and beaded top that barely covered your perky breasts and hard nipples.

“Does anybody buy it?” His head tilted to a sidw with a quirk of his brow and an inquisitive smile plastered all over his face. It would be innocent enough, his question, if it wasn’t for the intensity of his eyes that stared you down, like they were undressing you as he spoke.

“Does anybody buy what?” You spat, a little more forceful than you intended. His attitude was driving you crazy. He was intoxicating your every sense, his presence, his very being crawling into your skin and making a home of it, and you didn’t know if you were powerful enough to drive him out. You didn’t know if you wanted to drive him out.

“Your little good girl act. I mean they seem like they do, all of them, the whole clan bright eyed and bushy tailed when you walk past. All of them enamoured by you, or by who you’re pretending to be. Don’t get me wrong, kid. You do a good job. It could almost get me fooled. But then I see your eyes, that just for a second drop the act and your real self, your real thoughts are reflected in them, I see your face contorting in anger, or frustration.” His hand trails up your thigh and you shudder under him. “In ache, and desire.” His hand moves to your inner thigh, inching upwards until he makes contact with your loincloth, that much like most other days recently, was damp. “I can smell you. Smell your needy cunt, smell how much it wants me. So tell me, how do you do it?”

You let out a breath you felt like you’ve been keeping for too long, maybe your whole life. This man was depraved, and wrong, and a heathen, and for the first time in your life, you felt understood. You felt seen. Like you could finally do what you’ve always wanted to, but was scared no one would be able to withstand. Like you could finally let someone have his way with you, the way you’ve always wanted to.

You turned around to face him, angling your face to be able to look into his eyes, those predatory eyes. He was so tall, so powerful, and you wanted him. And you would have him, if it was the last thing you'd do.

“I don’t know, I assume the same way you do it.”

He raised an eyebrow yet again, eyeing down your body until his hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed. You gasped and clenched your thighs together.

“You like to talk back, don’t you? We’ll have to see about that.”

He unwrapped your tewng skillfully and groaned slightly as he took in your dripping cunt, the slick running down your thighs.

“What would your dad say, huh? What do you think he’d say if he heard about what I’m going to do to his precious daughter? To his… innocent baby girl?”

You let out a small moan and shut your eyes tightly as the anticipation was already wearing you out. His fingers flicker over your folds, thumb finding your clit and circling it, putting pressure on it as he sinks two digits into you, stretching you out.

“What would he say if he found out that his daughter’s a little slut? Huh? That she’s dripping wet before I even touched her, that she’s moaning with my hand around her neck? That she’ll be moaning with my cock stuffed down her throat later?”

Not that there was any doubt in your mind, but this man knew how to fuck. It was clear by how he was fingering you, how he was able to locate your g-spot almost immediately, how he knew exactly where to put pressure and how much of it, how to release his grip on your throat at the exact time needed to maximise the pleasure that felt too intense to bear even before you even got the chance to cum.

You had no answer to his questions, you had no thoughts in your mind other than the feral primal need of him deep in you, so deep you hoped you’d finally fill a hole you’ve felt has been empty in you for too long to even remember when it started.

He continued pumping his long digits in and out of you skillfully, until you were so wet, his ministrations were creating unattractive squelching noises that he sneered at, increasing his pace, drowning them out with the sounds of your pained mewls.

“Cunt so wet for me, doll. Can’t wait to fuck you til you’re dripping in cum. D’you think your dad will finally notice then?”

“I need t-to…”

You could hear the stupid smirk in his voice as he spoke.

“Use your words, kid. What d’you need?”

“Cum, fuck!”

He curls his fingers in you, hitting that spongy part of you that needed it most, and then pulled out, leaving you a panting mess.

“Oh, you need to cum? Shoulda thought of that when you gave me attitude earlier, kid.”

You felt like crying, but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. You had a hunch this wasn’t the first or only time this man would make you cry, and the later you started, the better. The feeling though, ecstasy bordering on pain, was weaking your resolve by the second, and soon enough, the emptiness you felt was hurting you.

“Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me… daddy.”

You watched as Jake’s expression darkened, a growl spilling out past his parted lips, his canines in full view now, sharp and deadly, and you throbbed in need when you thought about them sinking into you, marking you, making you his.

“You want daddy to fuck you, kid? You want daddy’s cock in you?”

You nodded vigorously, tears prickling painfully at your eyes, and out of pity or his own twisted needs, he undid his loincloth in one sweep motion, and allowed you your first look at him, in all his impressive, thick glory. He was a sight to behold and you felt the need to swallow, and the need to tell him to fuck your mouth until his cum coated your throat.

He takes you by the underside of your arms and lifts you up, and you instinctively wrap your thigs around his thin waist, pulling him as tightly on you as you can, cunt flush against his abs. You throw your head back when your back slams against the trunk of a massive tree, and the pain feels so much like pleasure you’re close to release again, mindlessly grinding on him.

He takes your jaw in his hand and forcefully brings your face into view.

“Cut that shit out, d’you hear me, kid? You’ll already be limping by the time i’m done with you, you want to be limping and not even come?”

“Just fuck me, daddy, please! I need it s’bad!”

His cock prods at your sopping entrance, twitching wildly against your folds at your words.

“Goddamn, girl, you really are a slut. So eager to get fucked dumb, you’re like my dream come true, aren’t you?”

“Can’t wait to fuck this dirty mouth one day.”

“Yes, daddy, yes! Can’t… can’t wait either, daddy!”

He laughs mockingly at your desperate tone, and fills you up in one thrust, hard and ruthless, giving you no time to adjust to the enourmous length or girth, that was stretching you almost painfully, curving slightly against the resistance of your cervix, forming a bulge in your lower abdomen that you stared in awe at.

Jake lets out a guttural moan as he bottoms out in you, balls pressed against your folds. His eyes are shut tightly and his head slouched forward to rest in between your breasts.

“Fuck, kid, you’re so fucking tight I feel like I could just cum in this pretty pussy right now.”

He reaches a hand to your lower abdomen and presses on the little bump, and you whimper as the sensation overload makes you convulse on his dick, your thighs weakening aroud his waist.

“Feel how deep my cock is in you?”

“Mmm-hm, ah! Yes, d-daddy.”

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, girl, your cunt’s gonna stretch to my cock, you’re going to be made for me. My toy.”

You nod, tears streaming down your face as he takes one of your nipples in his mouth and sucks, and the other in between his fingers, twisting and squeezing.

“Your toy, daddy.”

His cock starts moving in and out of you, slow at first whilst he’s still teasing you, still denying you the pace and intensity you need to cum.

“Are ya gonna call me daddy in front of your dad, too, kid? What would he think if the name just slips past your lips? Don’t think he’d like his adoptive daughter behaving like that, what d’you think?”

“D-don’t care! You c-can both be my daddies! Argh, fuck!”

He lets out a big laugh and slams into your cunt aggressively, knocking the air from your lungs.

“You like it, don’t you? Like playing with fire, like the little slut you are. I betcha wouldn’t even mind getting caught with your dad’s best friend’s cock deep in your cunt, huh?”

You shake your head, feeling the tears on your lips and their salty taste as your tongue swipes over them. You cry out in pain when he slams into you over and over, sacaddic thrusts that have no way of getting you off, only enhancing the feeling of despair you feel bubbling into you at being denied so many orgasms.

“I’m not letting you cum ‘til you admit it, girl.”

“Fuck, fine! I wouldn’t mind, I want them to catch us, I want everyone to know!”

You feel exhausted, but you still manage a loud burst of moans when he finally starts picking up his pace, holding you down by your throat as he ruts upwards into you, making you see white all around you as the world fades from view and is replaced with just a glow that spreads and increases in intensity and you feel the pressure in your core building once more, enough to make you cry out wildly.

“Yes! Yes, feels so good, daddy! You’re fucking me so well, daddy.”

“I know, kid, I can feel your tight pussy squeezing me. You want to come on my cock, girl? Come for me so I can fill this cunt with my load, huh? D’you want that, doll? Want my cum deep in you?”

“Yes, fuck yes, daddy!”

The orgasm washes over you like that one wave you got caught under as a child and could not escape, so powerful and all-consuming, you felt yourself trembling on him and he spills his seed into you, warm and sticky as it falls down your thighs, as he fucks it back into you, over and over, making sure it stays there, making sure it’s imprinted in your walls, just like his presence was imprinted in your mind.

“You did so well, doll. Maybe next time your two daddies can take turns fucking you, huh? Would you like Tonowari’s cock filling this pussy up while I fuck this pretty mouth?”

Well, your life might never be the same again, but it was definitely never going to be boring around Jake Sully.

Now, am I sick enough to make a dbf!jake x reader x stepdad!tonowari ??? Maybe 😉 if besties want it?

taglist: @fanboyluvr

[justabratsworld]

Dear Darling

Ugh, another night of dealing with absolute morons. 

The sun started to rise to stir the ones who were deep in their slumber. The early morning air bites at (y/n)'s skin as she made her way home from her shift at the bar. It seemed like she has been working nonstop lately. No matter how many times she requested more time off or less hours her boss just kept adding hours to her schedule. Not that she should be complaining, she did get a nice raise to her paycheck and well, the tips she gets throughout the night sure doesn't hurt her pockets. Besides, she'd rather be there than at home where her safe place started become hell. With the money she was saving (y/n) should be able to move to a different city. If she was smart enough and saved a little bit more money she could even move into a more secured building where you needed a residential identification or a guest pass to go past the lobby. She was starting to become paranoid with everything and everyone. No matter what it was, whether it was just a cup that was moved slightly or a misplaced spice she used the night prior her brain automatically jumped to "intruder". Once there was even a jacket that was left on her couch that she KNEW didn’t belong to her or anyone she knew. Only, once she finally convinced her friend to come over to see that (y/n) wasn’t going crazy due to stress, the jacket was gone. As if it was never there in the first place. Soon after that incident when (y/n) was out running errands or coming home from work if someone kept looking at her or what going in the same direction too long for her liking she automatically thought they had to be her stalker. All because of those stupid letters. Before they started appearing on her nightstand every morning her life was well...not perfect per se but definitely much better than what it is now.

Entering her humble apartment (y/n) made her way to the bathroom to wash last night off of her, the amount of patrons who felt the need to touch her made her feel dirty. Maybe it was the feeling of hot water cascading down her skin that made her sit in the shower for far longer than what was necessary, or maybe it was her subconsciously trying to avoid the bedroom. The room that was once her safe haven. The one place that once was able  to make her thoughts calm down, now it was the source of her uneasy head. No matter what she couldn’t figure out who was tormenting her like this  No one was taking her concerns seriously, not without having proof. (Y/n) did try to set up cameras. Specifically one at her front door, balcony door, and in her bedroom, but when she went to look at the footage of the times she wasn’t at home or sleeping everything was deleted and she wasn’t able to recover any of it. The memory of the camera that was installed in her bedroom sitting on her kitchen table with a note that read “nice try dear:) you have to be more clever than that to catch a glimpse of me ;)”. 

If only dear (y/n) was this observent before. If she was this aware of her surroundings and alert when she was out and about she wouldn't be dealing with this. If she was as vigilant before she would have noticed the man who was constantly staring her at the club she worked at. Surely she would’ve realized that the original owner seemed to vanish and the new one had more of an interest of her. So much so he kept scheduling her to work longer and more hours. What a shame she didn’t even realize that the one person who was making her life miserable was so so close. Dear sweet (y/n), she was never truly safe. 

'How silly of me to think he would skip a day'

Grabbing the envelope off of my nightstand, taking note of the smell radiating off of it. The thought of the sender spritzing his cologne on it makes my stomach uneasy. Do I really want to open this? I already know that if I do read it all its going to do is add on to my the already growing paranoia. After staring at the red seal I decided to go against my better judgment I slowly open the bane of my existence.      

                 My dearest love, 

Oh how I yearn to feel the sensation of your skin, to hear your siren voice call out to me, to hold you close to me as I whisper sweet nothing into your ear, to have you shake with pure pleasure. Fret not my darling, for soon I will come and rescue you from the nightmare you live in. However, I ask of you to not judge me for my appearance for my heart is much purer than what shows. You will have to worry or want for nothing once you're in my arms. I will love you until my dying breath. My dear sweet sweet (y/n), be ready. For once I have you in my grasp I fear I will not be able to let you go. Knowing your silly little head my go into panic just know that I have eyes and ears everywhere. I am patient and know that I wouldn't harm you in any way, but I can't say that your friends or family will be safe if you were to do anything stupid. I know my baby is smart. I know you won't do something you'll come to regret. 

        See you soon dear. 

Shit. I knew I shouldn't have read that stupid letter-well if I didn't I wouldn't have known that he apparently plans on taking kidnapping me. Shit. I have to call the cops. I have to tell someone but who would even believe me. The police didn't even care when I reported someone breaking in and leaving these letters. If anything they're probably in cahoots with my fucking stalker. I mean, how else would he have known I reported him. Just thinking of the underling threat he left brings a sense of dread. Maybe if I leave town he can't get me? How am I suppose to do that undetected though. He obviously knows my work schedule so me not showing up tonight will surely tip him off that I left. Shit. What did I do to deserve this? Who's attention did I attract? 

Glancing at the alarm clock I take a deep breath and head towards my medicine cabinet. I need to take something to let me sleep so I can go into work tonight. The letter never states when he's coming but there's no point fighting or hiding. Maybe if I just act like I never read that letter I can pretend that my life is normal. Besides, I may have more time to figure out what I'm going to do before the inevitable happens. Popping a few melatonin gummies I made my way to my bed. Weird, those tasted different than what they normally do. A lot less chewier too...maybe I'm overthinking it. I do need some sleep. After last night and that weird ass letter I deserve some shut eye before going through this all over again tomorrow morning.

-

Well damn, my head feels fuzzy. What time is it? It's dark...did my alarm not go off? I know I have it set? Why do my blankets feel different....this bed feels different too...oh well there goes my vision-

- 

"Baby girl, it's time to wake up. You've been asleep for too long. Travis! How much chloral hydrate did you put in those gummies of hers? She knocked the fuck out." Feeling a hand rubbing my cheek a rush of adrenaline goes through me as I try to sit up. What the actual- 

"Breathe baby, breathe. You're okay. It's okay, here focus on me. Yeah? Atta girl. Keep your eyes on me. That's my girl, now now I know you're probably wondering what going on, but I did tell you I was going to pick you up and take you home. Now I'm not going to get into details and show you around your new home quite yet since you're probably still a little groggy but don't worry. Once you're awake and ready I'll tell you everything you need to know and introduce you to your new family. God, I waited too long to hold you." Why can't I move? I keep trying to say something and yet I can't. Fuck I'm so tired, why does it feel like my body isn't connected to my brain? 

"It's rude to ignore your husband-sorry soon to he husband-when he's talking to you baby. I know you're wondering what's going on and but you're obviously still tired. So lets go back to sleep, yeah? Don't be difficult babe, I'd rather not have to drug you again, I don't like seeing you like that" 

No no no no no I don't...want to...go...back....to...sleep.

Dear darling,

When you awake you might be confused and afraid. Don’t worry, I’ll be back shortly. I have some things to take care of. There's water and some medicine on the kitchen island for you. Be a good girl.

Love you lots, 

Adonis M. Corleone

Oh baby girl, just having you asleep beside me is pure bliss. I’m sorry I had to drug you, it was the only way to get you home safe without having to worry about you seeing where you were going. You are the light I need in my life. With all the blood on my hands, all the crimes I have committed, everything has been for you. After watching and waiting for years I finally have you in my arms. If you try to leave I’ll kill anyone in the way. My (y/n), you will be the perfect wife. The perfect mother. The perfect piece to our family. After all, behind every successful man is a beautiful woman taking care of him. Once I get your family out of the way, we will be truly happy. I’m so proud of you for not running away from me. You proved to me that not only are you strong but smart as well. You knew better than to disobey me and for that I won’t necessarily kill your family. I’ll just make sure they know not to look for you.

BREAKING NEWS: Missing 23 year old women. Series of letters found. 

[idle-daydreams]

Uhm, can I request a story of Yandere Demon King Chuuya X Reader. The reader had mental health issues like she was always wanting to die. The illness got worse when he was kidnapped by Chuuya. She tried to kill herself multiple times but Chuuya managed to save her. Maybe now, she was restrained in bed and Chuuya said that she needed bed rest but she knows he was lying. Also she is a crybaby.

Tw: Self harm, kidnapping, mentions of suicide

Chuuya gazed at you, at your red-rimmed eyes as you tried to get comfortable while chained to the bed. The spell he’d cast was taking its toll on you, making you drowsy, but consciously or subconsciously, you were still fighting it.

Even in your miserable state, he still found you beautiful. Desperately, dangerously, so. It disgusted him just how much your vulnerability turned him on, and yet he couldn’t help himself. He wanted you, he wanted you in his arms, he wanted to hold you and hug you and tell it you it was all going to be all right.

“Everything is fine,” he said thickly. “Just rest for a little while.”

“Please let me go,” you said. “Please, I promise I won’t try to hurt myself again. I don’t know what you’ve done to me, but I don’t like it.”

“I know,” he lied. “I know you won’t hurt yourself. But you really need to rest.”

It was laughable, really. Utterly pathetic for a being as strong as him. You were a human, as delicate as a gossamer web, as fragile as spun glass, as soft and weak and inconsequential as the dew at dawn. It shouldn’t have been this hard to keep you safe and happy. And yet he couldn’t. He was a demon, one the strongest demons in Japan; he could fight armies without breaking a sweat, lay ruin to entire cities if he wanted to. But he didn’t know how to protect you from yourself, didn’t know how to fight the demons living in your head.

And looking at you, at the marks littering your arms and legs, it hurt.

You’d started crying, sobbing softly to yourself again. Chuuya sighed and moved towards you, only for you to flinch violently and try to pull away. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I’m sorry, [Y/N], for everything. But I promise you’re safe with me. You know who I am? I’m the Shutendoji. I promise you, I’ll keep you safe.”

You didn’t answer, only looked at him with those wide eyes glimmering with tears. Wet with tears, but with a spark of curiosity within.

“Listen to me, [Y/N],” he said. “You’re gonna have to live now, all right? I don’t care what kind of lifestyle you want, what you wanna do, where you wanna go. I’ll give it all to you, so long as you live. You can’t hurt yourself again, okay? I won’t have it.”

You blinked and gave a shaky nod. He could see the questions dancing at the tip of your tongue, confusion and even a smidgen of fear in your eyes. Good. It meant that you were still there, that there was still some spark in you.

It was going to take some time, but he was going to bring you back from the edge. He didn’t know what he would have to do, who he would have to hurt, but he was going to make you happy. Planting a gentle kiss to the top of your head, Chuuya laughed softly as you trembled.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Just don’t hurt yourself. I promise you, everything will be all right.”

[imagineitdearies]

~ A Flawed Eternity ~

(AKA drabbles set in the Perfect Slaughter universe. 🩵 Special thanks to @themoonatmingitaw for the ko-fi request! 🩵)

In which Astarion and Tyrus use the hot springs.

~

“I don’t trust the druid,” Astarion declared two weeks after the alliance had been struck.

They were attempting to rest again following one of Tyrus’s tranced memories-turned-panics. He frowned down at Astarion now, hand pausing in the midst of playing with those silvery curls. “What’s happened?”

“Oh nothing—yet. But all his blathering on about that forest spirit child, waylaying our mission with superstition . . . more distressing, I couldn’t see past his gigantic hairy arse during that surprise attack,” Astarion grumbled.

Tyrus relaxed a bit. “You don’t like him,” he translated.

“I like his dedication to your sister—those arms are nice to look at on occasion—but outside that?” Astarion huffed. “His prying ‘helpfulness’ certainly wears on the nerves.”

Tyrus sat up a bit, nodding at the nearby spring. “Would a soak help calm them?”

Astarion narrowed his eyes up at him. “Have you tranced a full four hours yet?”

“. . . maybe this could help me trance easier, too,” Tyrus shrugged in lieu of an answer.

“Give you a handful more memories to choose from, at least,” Astarion sighed.

They both still struggled to rest, Tyrus especially. It felt worse falling into a terrible memory these days—like his freedom was being stolen over and over again.

Quiet moments like these felt much more restful.

Later, while leaning back against Tyrus’s chest in the bubbling little pool, Astarion murmured, “Halsin gave me a pat on the back, after we flank-killed the last cultist. And, well, you know—of course I reacted a bit,” he said with an annoyed sniff. “But he couldn’t just leave it alone after. Had to apologize over and over; even approached me today and offered himself if I needed a ‘neutral outsider to talk to about anything.’”

Tyrus contemplated this for a moment. “Might that not be . . . potentially beneficial?”

Astarion sat up from his recline to turn and face him. “What I need is to be strong right now, love,” he said, reaching to cup Tyrus’s cheek with his brows pulled low over his eyes. “I need to keep you safe. I need to stay on high alert, not wallow in pains best left forgotten.”

Can they be forgotten? Tyrus almost asked.

Pain and fear seemed like the only things his mind cared to hold onto, whether vivid or deeply rooted in his subconscious.

But an hour later, after they’d dried off and redressed, the soak seemed to have done its work—Astarion’s irritation melting away into something a bit more vulnerable.

“I . . . well, I told him I’d think about it, actually,” he spoke in a very small, hesitant voice after he’d pulled Tyrus in.

Tyrus offered a small smile up at Astarion and then tucked his head into his partner’s chest.

“I hope you do,” he whispered back.

[gravytrainnaturebornn]

the power of self-talk in the fight against self-sabotage (for binge-eaters and ppl who have never been skinny🫶)

disclaimer: this is not proana. this is for people who struggle with binge eating as a form of self-sabotage, emotional comfort, self harm, etc. overeating can cause just as much harm physically and mentally as undereating. please be safe. now, on with the show!

weight loss, but specifically extreme weight loss, equals change. change equals discomfort, so people tend to subconsciously avoid change. this is why starting to see progress on the scale or your body can trigger the urge to self-sabotage that progress and binge eat.

for people who have been big their whole lives, that fear is heightened by the fact that being thin is completely uncharted territory. by following through, youre entering a new world that youve never navigated before. your brain might get scared, say its much too big a mountain to climb, and tell you to give up. its easier to say fuck it because for most people, unhappiness is a comfort zone. if youre used to hating your body and wanting it to change, then actually *changing* it poses a very serious threat to your comfort and the lifestyle youre used to.

questions like: "what if i reach my goal and im still unhappy/unattractive?" "what if i dont look like myself?" "what if i reach my goal, cant sustain it, and then i gain it all back and humiliate myself?" can all make someone feel anxious about succeeding in their weight loss journey. and for people with overeating issues, this is a big trigger for binge episodes.

so how do you combat this instinct to self sabotage? well, im not a psychologist so take this with a grain of salt, but for me it helps to soothe these subconscious fears and train the brain to fight these urges. self-talk and thought-correction play a HUGE role in rewiring the pathways in your brain that lead you to bingeing. truly, practice and consistency are the only things that are going to cause a big change, so stick with it !

correcting problematic thoughts *immediately* when they form is key to preventing problematic behavior in the future, and that starts with being able to identify those thoughts. the moment you catch yourself thinking about food, cut yourself off with a correction. maybe even think about food on purpose a few times to practice recognizing and correcting it.

for example, if you just ate an hour ago, chances are youre not actually hungry yet. tell yourself that as soon as you realize youre thinking about food. i like to tell myself "i dont need to eat, and im not gonna sabotage myself by eating that." by acknowledging it and calling it what it is--literally an attack, by my brain, on my own progress--i immediately attach a sense of accountability to the actions that follow. there's no deniability. its no longer a passive choice. theres no mindless eating or "i wasnt thinking about it." if i eat after acknowledging the act of eating as self-sabotage, then that is me *actively* choosing self-sabotage over self-control. accountability alone can change a lot if you let it.

what i tell myself changes depending on the situation, but i find that repeating some of these phrases throughout the day helps to fight urges in general, and certain ones help for specific cravings and situations.

below are some examples of things i tell myself that have helped me fight the urge to self sabotage. they dont all have to be true when you first say them, the point is training your brain to think a certain way. it may feel unnatural at first, but the more you say them the more natural it becomes, until eventually it becomes apart of the way you actually think and you dont have to work so hard at it. remember: consistency. is. key.

okay ill stop blabbing! here:

•i allow myself to be thin.

•i accept the change that comes with losing weight.

•i am ready to see myself differently and cope with any complicated feelings that may come with it.

•i am prepared for my body to change.

•i will deal with my wardrobe when the time comes, and im not afraid of dressing differently for my new body.

•i will adjust to my new dietary needs and appetite when i reach my goal weight. i will not always be hungry; eating less will be my new normal, and i will be okay.

•i am not afraid of being hungry.

•food does not comfort me, nor does it solve my problems or make me feel better.

•i am ready to navigate a life that looks different to the one im living now.

•i am not afraid of reaching my goal. if i do feel afraid, i am confident in my ability to work through difficult feelings and continue towards my goal.

•im not going to sabotage myself by eating that.

•i accept that people will perceive me differently, and i am ready to navigate that change.

•i am prepared to receive comments about my weight loss.

•i am not afraid of getting what i want.

•i believe i deserve what i want, and im dedicated to working towards getting it.

•i am capable of adapting to new routines and habits.

•fear is not a reason to give up, and i will continue to work even if the possibility of change makes me uneasy.

•i am prepared to face the future, even though i do not know what it looks like.

•i allow myself to make mistakes, and i will not use them as an excuse to quit.

•my long-term satisfaction is more important than what i want in this moment.

•i am in control of my actions and i am capable of resisting the urge to binge.

•i allow myself to have the body i desire.

•i allow myself to change.

•i allow my life to look different and i am not afraid to see a new person in the mirror.

•i am excited to reach my goal, and prepared to navigate any changes that come with it.

•i am ready to meet and introduce others to the new me.

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Imagine # 1,037

Gifs NOT mine. (Found on Pinterest.)

If either gif is yours (or you know who's it is) please let me, so I can give you/them credit.

Gif credit goes to - Unknown.

Year posted - 2022

*Vampire Lord as in Skyrims Vampire Lords, which are essentially just a more superior species of vampire. But when you take your vampire form, imagine the way Dracula's brides looked like in Van Helsing (2004). 💚 Also I still haven't watched the show. 😅

No one but the King knew of (Y/n)'s secret, as her Lord father had sent her to him many years ago as a gift, claiming he was sending a "one man army" to the King. When the King initially laid eyes on her, he was furious with her Lord father. She was but a woman, a beautiful and gentle looking woman. So to prove her might she revealed her true form to the King, which had both terrified him, and impressed him greatly. From there on (Y/n) was sent far and wide to deal with any threats to the kingdom quietly. Only once ever going into a proper battle at the Kings command, where she was required to hide herself among the men, and restrain from taking her true form. Once there was a rogue dragon that needed to be dealt with quickly and quietly.

Prince Daemon had intended to deal with the rouge beast himself, but (Y/n) had already torn its throat out before he could intervene. The dragon laid in a pool of its cooling blood, dead, by the time Daemon arrived. It mattered not to the King, when his brother informed him about the peculiar state of the dead dragon, as he knew full well what had happened. Years would pass, and no one hardly paid any mind to the young woman, who was most often found by the King's side. Had they paid enough attention over the years, and maybe they would have noticed her lack of aging. The Kings family grew as time passed, and the only person to ever notice the young woman, was little Prince Aemond.

And even that wasn't until he was a young boy, trying to prove his strength to everyone, despite being dragonless. On several occasions (Y/n) found herself in the young Princes company, late at night when he was unable to sleep. The first time he crossed her path it was after a particularly bad nightmare, and he believed only some fresh air and a walk would quell his shaken mind. "Out so late little Prince?" She mused from the shadows, startling the young boy, who spun on his heel only to find himself face to face with a woman he vaguely recognized. She straightened her back, now towering over him, grinning at the sound of his thundering heart.

"W-who are you?" Aemond questioned, silently scolding himself for stuttering. "I am Lady (Y/n) of house Draculia." She bowed respectively, her glimmering eyes looking almost red in the candle light. "What are you doing out here?" He wondered, finding himself relaxing despite her intimidating presence. "I was in desperate need of some fresh air. And you little Prince? It's not safe to wonder the halls alone at night." She mused casting a glance to the darkness, making the hairs stand on end upon Aemonds neck. "Are you not worried dear Lady?" He wondered. "Not at all. It's the darkness that should fear me." She grinned, her words making the young boy chuckle.

"I had a nightmare." He admitted in a soft tone. "I thought a walk would help." He added, now toiling with his fingers. "Well then I shall walk with you little Prince, can't allow any creatures of the night to sweep you away, now can we?" She hummed as she placed her arm around his shoulders. Aemond grinned at her words, shaking his head no in agreement, while he subconsciously leaned into her hold. And for many nights after that, the boy found himself wondering the halls of his home with Lady (Y/n). Taking whatever opportunity that presented itself to speak with her whenever he could throughout the day.

Learning quickly that if he wanted to see her, all he would have to do was find his father. He asked his mother many times about her, but even the Queen found herself unable to answer most of his questions. Who was she exactly? When did she come to the castle? Why was she here? And why was she always with the King? The Queen eventually began asking her husband about the young woman, who in turn only gave short and vague answers. When Aemond obtained his dragon, he had found himself desperate for (Y/n)'s approval and praise. Only to be disheartened by the news that she had been sent away by order of the King.

When he questioned his father he was only told that she had been sent away on a diplomatic mission. A mission that in reality had sent her far beyond the wall in the north, where she would spend the next few years trying to obtain the artifact in question that the King had sent her after. Aemond begged and argued with his father about learning her whereabouts, only to be shot down time and time again. Had be known her location he would have got upon Vhagar and gone to simply check up on her. And as the years ticked by his mind was only ever plagued with her.

The King had assured him begrudgingly that Lady (Y/n) was well and alive. Though his own health was taking a drastic decline as he waited for her return. When she finally returned one cool summer night, she held the chalice of Artmaria in her hands. A chalice said to give those who drank from it the strength of a God. A twisted legend of the truth of the chalice, as all it could really do was alleviate someone of their pain, leaving them feeling numb to everything they touched. She had offered to allow the King a taste of her blood, to grant him eternal life, with the warning that he would remain in his physical state after the transformation.

"I do not want eternal life, I only wanted more time." He had stated, declining her offer and stating that he had come to peace with his impending demise. She had accepted his choice, and vowed to remain loyal to his family for as long as they would have her. The following day Prince Aemond, now a young man, was ecstatic when he found out about her return. Rushing to the throne room where he knew he would find her beside his father as always. His heart leapt into his throat at the sight of her, she hadn't changed a bit, hadn't aged a single day. He quickly came to realize that his infatuation with her ran much deeper than he once thought.

"Little Prince." She greeted him with a fond smile, her hand coming up to hold his face in a delicate touch. "Not so little anymore hm?" She grinned when his cheeks dusted in pink. "Are you well Lady (Y/n)?" He asked, his eye scanning her for any injuries. "I am well." Her thumb brushed the scar on his cheek. "I heard about what happened little Prince." She muttered softly. "Part of me wants to say it was a foolish thing to do... But I find myself unable to do so. How very admirable of you my Prince." He beamed at her praise, leaning into her touch. "You shall have to meet her." He mused, making (Y/n) chuckle softly. "I would love to." She smiled.

The day turned sour when a mercenary had made his way to the throne room, claiming that Lady (Y/n) was a vile unholy creature, one that had killed his sister two winters ago. He was right of course, but the Prince had tried defending her honor. And when the man unsheathed his sword, (Y/n) rushed to place herself between him and the Prince. Moving so quickly that if you had blinked you would have missed any sign of movement from the young women. Aemond had stumbled back a little, eye wide with surprise. "Vile creature." The man hissed, placing the tip of his sword against her sternum.

"Perhaps." She chuckled lowly before pushing forward, impaling herself onto his sword until she was face to face with him, grinning at the horror in his eyes. "But if you wanted to expose me, you should have done so with a crowd to bare witness." She growled into his ear, erupting in laughter as her body chained forms. Her soft skin becoming grey and leathery in look, wings spanning from her back, with sharp and long claws protruding from her fingers. Aemond fell in sheer horror at the sight, unable to tare her eye away when she flew up to the rafters with the man in her hold.

First the man's sword fell at Aemonds feet, then blood rained down, some of which painted Aemonds pale skin. Aemond scrambled to his feet, watching as the man's now very dead body fell to the ground with a loud thud. His eye casting up just in time to watch (Y/n) float back to the ground, her skin becoming normal once more as she changed forms again. "I hope I did not frighten you little Prince." She cooed softly, despite being able to hear his thundering heartbeat. Aemond shook his head in denial, his eye darkening when he looked to the mercenary, remembering what the man had intended to do to his fair Lady.

"So now Aemond knows our little secret." The King mused from the throne, peering down at his youngest son. "You knew?" Aemond questioned. "Of course I knew." The King scoffed, waving them both forward. "She is my greatest champion, and she will remain the Targaryens greatest champion and ally long after my death." He spoke softly, taking each of their hands in his own. "And I believe a union between our houses will prove to produce a formidable line in the family." (Y/n) frowned a little, as the King had never spoke of a union between their houses before.

"I have seen the way you interact, and I know Aemond adores you." Viserys spoke to (Y/n), who smiled softly at his words. "So you shall marry in a fortnight." He concluded with a nod of his head, his decision surprising Aemond, though the young Prince had thought about it many times before. "Her secret shall remain ours, for now." He added as he released their hands, waving them off in dismissal afterwards. The body of the mercenary was dispossessed of shortly after, and the Kingdom was informed about the union between Prince Aemond Targaryen, and Lady (Y/n) Draculia the following day.

In the coming years Aemond sacrificed many men and women to his Lady wife, and not long after his brother became King, he accepted her gift of eternal life. When the next war struck the immortal couple laid waist to all who opposed them and house Targaryen. All who knew their names knew of the legends surrounding them, and none were brave enough to oppose them directly, even within house Targaryen. Dragons were no longer the Targaryens most lethal weapon, and in time they would be referred to as the Blood King and Blood Queen. The couple giving birth to a whole new generation of bloodthirsty monsters, and ensuring the Targaryen bloodline would be unstoppable.

*I intend on writing more with this later, but for now enjoy this little piece. 💚

[plscallmeeren]

Citizens of Westview

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Request: yes I'm sorry this took me so long but I am now nearing the end of my exam period 🥲

Summary: Wanda is on her way to WandaVision as she arrives in Westview, but before she can freak out on us, she meets someone

Someone = you = retired warrior with telepathy + telekineses

Warnings: sad Wanda; not proofread rip

Word Count: 1.4K

Wanda Maximoff was fuming and upset and destroyed and violently inclined and numb from the pain. Everything hurt. Everything was changing. He was never coming back. No, she was never coming back. Could never be the same as she once was.

When was that again? It felt like a long ago, but was it? Maybe for everyone else, whose five years dragged with the absence of company, but for her... for her it hadn't been long since the peak of her life. It hadn't lasted long, really. From one horror to the next, life had never stopped giving Wanda Maximoff a hard time.

Surely this was the worst of them all.

She stood motionless for a moment in a driveway, staring at the worn foundations of a town house. Vision's house. Vision's vision, ironically.

Slow steps led her to its centre, hand clutching at his plans like a lifeline.

Wanda wondered whether she ever would have lived him. He wasn't what she imagined - ever. He was only there when she needed someone most. Did she have the right to mourn someone she may have used for her own emotional balance? No, she thought.

A strange feeling invaded her senses as she considered her own mind. She knew it. Except she usually felt it from the other side.

Someone was in her head, snooping.

How dare they?

She realised only now that she had fallen to her knees on the harsh ground, tears running down her cheeks uncontrollably. It hurt. It all hurt, and she didn't even know what was causing her all this pain. When she tried to recount everything to herself, it felt like encouraging the water drowning her back over her head in order to make her lungs not only gasp for air and find currents, but also for them to be crushed under all the weight of an ocean.

Everything hurts.

Which is why no one should have been invading on all of that.

With some struggle, she turned, standing, grasping the sacred paper in her one hand while the other cocooned itself in crimson magic.

Before her stood a young-looking man, though certainly older than her, hands pushed into his pockets timidly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't read your thoughts, I just... I just felt."

Wanda's mind spun at the sound of your voice. Deep, as if the ocean was now enveloping her protectively. Slightly raspy, as if you had smoked one year too many. Melodic, as if she had missed the lyrics to an important song.

"I... How did you- You can't-"

"I don't know what made you feel the way you feel right now, but it must be truly horrible. That pain..." You shuddered, approaching her with a little more confidence, but keeping a safe distance.

Wanda was lost for words.

"Why here of all places?"

She hesitated, then decided: "My boyfriend plans on building a house here. I wanted to see it. Or, well, what it would be."

You nodded contemplatively. "So there's a boyfriend, huh?" you teased, stopping when you were only a meter away from her. She felt volatile. She couldn't bear it if you tried to touch her. But for a moment, she was distracted.

"No," she found herself saying instinctively, though this hadn't been the plan, "no boyfriend anymore."

"Sorry to hear it. Or at least, sorry for you." You smiled a little. It was all risky when someone was this emotional - or so spoke experience. One wrong word or wrong daring and it was all over, but in the end, treating someone like a snowflake was the most likely to backfire.

She stared at you incredulously, gaping at the simple flirting. She observed her contender closer: a tall, toned man with short black hair and a bandana. She could have screamed and kicked when her subconscious reminded her this was more like her type.

You watched her, too. If you hadn't been so distracted by her dishevelled look, you might have called her flawlessly beautiful.

"What's the house gonna look like?" you asked as pleasantly as possible, sitting down in the wiry grass with crossed legs.

"I, uh..." Wanda pulled out the plans, handing them over. You took them graciously, taking a moment to look properly before smiling widely.

"This is really nice. Good town house feel. Kinda looks like one of those old sit-coms, you know?"

She couldn't help but stare further. The coiling witchcraft encompassing her arm slowly dissipated as she collapsed on the ground opposite you.

"Yes," she said finally, leaning forward tiredly. "I always liked sit-coms. Especially the Dick Van Dyke Show. I watched it when I was little, and recently... well, I was just getting into it again."

"I don't know that one," you confessed. "But I always liked Bewitched and The Brady Brunch. Sometimes I Dreamed of Jeannie, when I was feeling particularly whimsical." You chuckled and a watery laugh escaped her in response.

"I know Bewitched and The Brady Brunch. They're both good. I loved the dresses in Bewitched, you know? It was always so classy. What's the other one?"

"Oh, it's about this guy who unleashes a beautiful woman called Jeannie and she's bound to him. She can fulfil all of his wishes, but her attempts at doing him good often go a bit awry... it's very funny."

"I can imagine."

She could believe she was smiling. Honestly smiling. Practically grinning.

"If I may ask; where are you from? That's an interesting accent you got there." You saw the complicated expression on her face and quickly rectified: "I'm sure people ask you all the time - I shouldn't be so unoriginal."

"No, no, it's fine. People don't ask as often as I'd sometimes like." Her eyes glazed over in distant imagery and you wondered where she had travelled to. "I'm from Sokovia."

Your brain sent you immediate news footage of the disaster in Sokovia and the Avengers and-

Wanda Maximoff.

But you didn't comment on any of this, because really, what good would it do?

"I've heard of it." Her shoulders sagged. She could see the pitiful questions coming her way already. "It's somewhere between Slovakia and the Czech Republic, no?"

Her eyes widened. For another moment, she was distracted.

"Yeah. That's it. It's beautiful, you know. Terrible government, but beautiful."

"Just like the U.S., then?" you smirked, earning an Eastern European smile of superiority in return.

"Mhm. We had this tradition in the winter where we would..."

You listened intently, hanging onto every word as if you were going to be tested in the material.

You didn't generally like people too much. You didn't hate them, either. You had just seen too much. Too many thoughts, emotions, memories, fears - too much humanity for one receiver.

But another person who had seen all that? Had felt and heard the facets of a thousand lives? That was interesting. You were very interested. Maybe you would have been even if that hadn't been the case.

Darkness crawled over the clouded planes of this Western sky, draping its silky blanket dotted with shining light and an iridescent crescent over the town of Westview. The two of you hardly noticed, delved deep in conversation, until making out the other's face proved a challenge.

"I should be going," Wanda gave in to nature's lullaby eventually. "I'm not sure where to go, though."

You considered her for a moment, then offered: "You're welcome to stay at my place for a while. If not, I know an inn downtown that's probably still open?"

She gazed at you in a way that the naïve mind could interpret as loving, then slowly nodded.

"Yes, I'd like to stay with you. I trust you, stranger, even if it is not in my best interest." Her accent was thick with drowsiness.

"Good. Can I ask - just to be sure - what's your name?"

"Wanda. You knew?"

"I had a hunch. My name's (y/n)."

"Do you have a superhero name or something, too?" she laughed warmly, but she could still taste the salt of tears on her tongue.

"No, I never cared much for superheroes."

_____________

Pt 2?

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Don't Go Blindly Into the Dark

Summary:

To hide that he can't read, Jan Van Eck has been forcing his son to pretend he's blind since he was eight years old. Wylan is now attending Ketterdam University, and meeting Jesper Fahey may very well be about to change his life. But is he safe to tell Jesper the truth? And what will Jesper say if he does?

Jesper is struggling to weigh up his life in the Barrel and his life at the University of Ketterdam, and there's a good chance that his growing debt is about to make the decision for him. He hasn't attended class consecutively for months, but maybe that will change when his newest project includes partnering up with Wylan Van Eck. But can he really leave the Barrel behind him? And how long can he keep up the pretence of who he thinks Wylan wants him to be?

Meanwhile there is a darkness growing in Ketterdam, and it seems a killer may be stalking the streets of West Stave. An unknown evil is closing its jaws over the city, and it’s starting to feel like nowhere is safe.

Tags: @justalunaticfangirl @lunarthecorvus @i-need-help-this-is-my-obsession

If anyone else would like to be tagged let me know :)

Content warnings for this chapter: ptsd, implied past abuse references

AO3 link

Chapter 45 - Jesper

Jesper had been hopping anxiously from foot to foot outside Nina’s room at the White Rose for, at the very least, the better part of an hour, fidgeting with his gun belt and spinning his rings around on his fingers, by the time the door opened once again. Nina smiled, but she looked nervous as she slipped through a tiny crack in the door and then pushed it shut again behind her. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” said Nina, lightly, “I mean - the Tailoring and all, absolutely fine, Wylan’s just… I think you should talk to him alone,”

Jesper frowned, but before he could press any further Nina had mumbled something about coffee and quickly slipped down the stairway out of sight. 

“Wylan?” Jesper knocked lightly on the door, “Are you alright?”

There was soft shuffling sound from the other side of the panels as Wylan, almost yelping, called through: 

“Oh - yes, sorry, I… yes, I’m okay,”

It wasn’t a particularly convincing sentiment. 

“Can I come in?”

There was a brief pause and Jesper was about to say that he shouldn’t feel like he had to let him in when the door creaked open. Wylan crept back away from it before Jesper stepped inside, one hand out to find his chair before he took a seat. 

Jesper couldn’t help but stare, just for a moment. Wylan’s eyes were just so… bright. The blue that Jesper had studied so intently, leaning over him in the sunset outside the library, faded beneath that hypnotising cloud, was now piercing straight into him from across the room. Had the Tailoring really been what dimmed them like that? They’d been beautiful anyway, like the ocean beneath the mists off the harbours, but it was the way they seemed to cut straight through the room now that Jesper couldn’t even quite believe. It bowled him over. 

“That bad that they’ve rendered you speechless?” Wylan whispered, looking like he was trying to smile as a subconscious hand lifted to trace one of his scars, almost managing to laugh as he said, “That has to be quite a feat,”

“Oh - no, I’m sorry I was just…”

Jesper’s words shuddered to a halt as he continued to study the boy in front of him. His scars were extensive; two running over his left eye and one over his right, as well as a jagged cut down the side of his nose, shiny white in the bright glow through the window to his right. Jesper couldn’t imagine what kind of accident had sliced his skin apart like that but he knew that this might not be the full extent of the wounds that had once crossed his face, only those that had been bad enough to cling on for so long. For a moment he was clutched by nothing but the memory of a fairytale he knew as a small child, where a prince was blinded when he was pushed into a bush of massive thorns, but the thought died when he noticed the red rims along the underside of Wylan’s eyes, briefly lowered his gaze to take in the patch of water hastily wiped along his sleeve cuff. 

“Wylan are you crying?”

“No- I, no I’m-” but apparently Jesper acknowledging it had been too much, and new tears sprung into Wylan eyes as his cheeks flushed pink, “I’m sorry, I don’t-”

“Don’t apologise,” said Jesper, pulling up another chair and sitting down opposite Wylan. 

He leant forwards, propping one of his legs up over the other and resting his arms against it. 

“Can I ask you what’s wrong?”

There was a pause as Wylan fidgeted with his sleeve, rubbing the fabric continually between his thumb and forefinger. He swallowed. 

“I thought… I thought - I don't know, I’m sorry…”

“Don’t-” Jesper began, then caught himself and corrected: “Don’t feel like you have to apologise. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to,”

There was silence for a time, other than Wylan occasionally sniffing as he wiped his eyes. He sat back in his chair and pulled his feet up to cross his legs on the seat, pressing his palms against his knees and blinking rapidly, as though he could force the tears away. Jesper wasn’t entirely sure what he should do, but he’d noticed that Wylan found it difficult to assert decisions, especially if the question was too open ended, so after a minute he ventured:

“I’m gonna give you four options, alright? And you can choose which one we do,”

Wylan looked a little nervous, but he nodded. 

“Okay, option one: I go outside, I tell Nina not to come back upstairs yet, and we let you stay here on your own until you’re ready to come out. Option two is that I stay and we talk about it, option three is that I stay and we talk about something else - anything at all. Or, option four, I stay here but we don’t talk right now, we just sit together so you don’t have to be on your own, if you don’t want to be,”

Wylan opened his mouth, closed it again. 

“I…”

“You can take your time deciding,” said Jesper, “And you aren’t setting anything in stone, okay, you can change your mind no matter what, you’re just choosing where we start,”

He nodded, a little shakily, and after a brief moment of hesitation murmured: 

“Can- can you stay? Please?”

“Of course,"

For a while there was quiet and Jesper sat back in his chair, watching Wylan, turning one of his rings around and around on his finger until he pressed too hard on its edges and thought he might have felt the green glass gemstone shift in its setting. He rested his hand against the table and pulled on his shirt cuff with the other, finding the button and rubbing it between his fingers in hopes of deterring himself from drumming his fingers on the table - he didn’t want to put Wylan on edge, or make him feel like he was impatient. He needed him to know that he didn’t mind sitting here for as long as he needed to, but he also might lose his mind if he tried to sit perfectly still. 

Jesper didn’t know exactly when it happened, when Wylan’s hand ended up on top of his, when he lifted his palm up from the tabletop so he could let their fingers intertwine. Neither of them said anything, at first, they just continued to sit, hand gripped in hand. And then:

“Jesper…”

He looked up, his eyes meeting the knife edge blue of Wylan’s. Wylan swallowed, and Jesper felt his throat tighten as the boy’s fingers moved slowly across his own, touching each of his rings in turn like he wanted to memorise their shape. 

“That day, at the library,”

Jesper felt himself stiffen, his hand flattening between Wylan’s and the table. 

“I made you late,” he said, “Wylan-”

“No, no - that’s not…” Wylan gently pried Jesper’s fingers back up off the table, clutching them between his own, “I only meant, when you were telling me about the sunset. I could see it,”

“You could…”

“The jurda fields,” Wylan murmured, “the air in summer. The fireplace in winter, that makes you feel safe. I could see it,” there was a pause, as Jesper tried to find the right words, before Wylan said: “You made me see it,”

His fingers dropped from Jesper’s. 

“You found just the right words,” Wylan said, and although his tone was unchanged Jesper couldn’t help but feel as though something had broken between them, that without the feeling of Wylan’s warm skin against his he couldn’t be sure of his sincerity, like something made of glass has shattered in the small space between them, “You showed it to me, and it was… it was really like I could see it,”

Jesper didn’t know what to say. He could feel his breaths deepening even as they caught in his throat, and all he wanted to do was grab hold of Wylan’s hand again and never let go - but Wylan was leaning back, moving to stand up. 

“We should probably get out of Nina’s way,” he said, softly, “We’ve been here for a while,”

Jesper nodded and moved to follow. But no sooner had Wylan risen than he was toppling back down again, his skin pale, those bright, beautiful eyes rolling back into his skull. 

[burning-sol]

You know, I've always felt that the discussion around CWs for food was a bit strange because, "food is everywhere, how do you avoid FOOD, you need to get over it," is weird when you remember that literally anything could be triggering and it's not your place to tell someone to get over their issues just because you personally don't understand it. But I was too cowardly to bring it up because it's one of those opinions that make me worry I'm going to lose the respect of people I know.

I looked up discussions of it and read through the comments of reddit posts and it was very easy to find people with valid reasons to be triggered, including two instances where the person in question struggled with binging which is its own eating disorder and a part of bulimia nervosa. Someone else just found it gross and has misophonia, which is also a valid reason for wanting a content warning I think. There's plenty of reasons people could want a content warning for food other than being the stock character of anorexia.. Who, if we're being real, is not going to be FIXED because you made the oh so bold decision not to put a cw for food. Like, at worst you could definitely trigger some sort of negative reaction from a pwAnorexia you didn't forsee happening, and you will likely never know about because people don't tend to make a habit of discussing all their issues online.

Like, yeah, maybe some people find the content warning itself to induce negative thoughts, but what makes THAT group take priority over the other? What does it say about you that you're inadvertently siding with the Right who likes to argue and poke fun with the argument, "you can't put a content warning on EVERYTHING, that would be ridiculous!! There are no content warnings in real life!"

People also just make a lot of conflation between the online and offline world like... "Well if you see it in real life, you shouldn't need a comment warning online," when the two are completely different contexts. Even just in framing, food in real life isn't inherently framed to look appealing unless purposefully displayed that way, whereas the majority of photos of food are made to be tantalising and trigger a completely different reaction. We don't have offline equivalents of cooking content (TV broadcasts of cooking are even MORE easily avoidable than those online) or of mukbangs in our daily lives. Food online is an entirely different kind of way of interacting with it than in your offline life.

And people DO get triggered offline by things by the by, people DO struggle in their offline lives, and maybe they just prefer to have control over their online lives where it's possible to have accommodations. One time I was out with friends, and obviously I didn't have a content warning for mirrors in real life, nor do I ask for one, but it still severely freaked me out to see a mirror and I was cowering away from any reflection I COULD. I would much prefer NOT to have mirrors all over my house except for certain designated spaces, but I can't change that due to my circumstances, so I just quietly suffer. And it's not that I don't WANT to get over my fear, it's that there's NO possible way to get over that fear if I don't have a support network to help with exposure therapy; because the key to exposure therapy is that you make the patient feel in control and safe and you expose them to whatever they're scared of in amounts that they can handle. You are not a professional, you are a rando on the internet.

Maybe we shouldn't have to keep circling back to the, "you don't have a right to talk over people with triggers," thing just because of the superficial change as to WHAT thing is being trigger tagged. I trust people to know what they want tagged. This shouldn't be a hot take amongst leftists. You shouldn't find some kind subconscious, righteous enjoyment in flaunting that you don't get triggered by something that others do. Please.

[slutterhaus]

.temptation

AN: Reposting some old works while I sort my life out lmao I miss Nanbaka ngl CWs: Religious themes, sacrilegious relationships, smut, you two technically get caught, unprotected sex, Enki's dick is also too big and should be classified as a weapon. Other: Smut, Second Person POV, Priest!Enki AFAB!Nun!Reader, Female pronouns are used once. Not proofread. Under read more for obvious reasons. Word Count: 2.5k+

This wasn’t right and you knew it. The thoughts that were running through your mind were impure and sinful and it was all too much at times. Going through confession with him wasn’t helping either since he was the source of your dilemma.

Father Gokuu, one of the sibling-duo priests that had arrived almost a year and a half ago to take care of the frequent demon sightings around town, had a way of tapping into your most primal instincts with little-to-no effort.

His handsome face, his built physique, his towering height, and his combat skills were only some of the few things that had you completely enamored with him; not to mention there was something in the way your name rolled off his tongue, his voice so deep and alluring, so calm and disciplined that it had to be considered a sin in itself.

It wasn’t until he called your name again that you remembered where you were: the confessional. You cleared your throat and apologized, deciding to leave out the reason you spaced-out in the first place. Fumbling with the rosary in your hand, you take a deep breath and try to calm yourself. It was only a confession—you reminded yourself—it was nothing you haven’t done time and time again during your years at the institution.

“You’re distracted, Sister.” He stated, and you could make out the slightest detail of his silhouette as he shifted his position. It made you nervous. You felt like he saw through the confessional screen and right at the deepest depths of your being, like he knew what you wanted to say. “Forgive me, Father. I’ve been feeling uneasy.”

“Demons?”

More like inner demons.

“I don’t know if it has anything to do with last month’s incident, though my nerves have been on end.”

You could hear him hum; low and deep. It made you bite you lip and grip your rosary tighter. How could something so simple break every vow you ever took? Truth be told, this situation annoyed you quite a bit. “Rest.”

His words made you blink in confusion. “Pardon?” You could hear the wood creaking in relief as he got up and out of the confessional. You sighed and leaned back in your seat before finally letting your rosary fall to its usual place on your chest. It left a bad taste in your mouth, lying like that, and you could feel a headache coming on. Maybe you did need to lay down.

Pushing the door to your room open, you made your way to your bed and fell face-first into the mattress. Your body felt heavy and right now, all you wanted to do was sleep. Rolling onto your side, you wondered if you should tell Enki what was going on, even if it meant leaving the institute.

Some of the Sisters murmured about the way he looked at you, and if those were true, then keeping your feelings secret was more trouble than it was worth.

Finally rolling onto your back, you stared up at the ceiling and wondered if you should write him an anonymous letter, maybe ask for some advice or even just let it all out and confess, anything was better than letting this consume you. You groaned, thinking about the situation only made your headache worsen.

Sighing, you reach out to grab the glass of water set on your nightstand and have a drink. The sun was starting to set, you noted, hopefully Enki would tell Sister Hyakushiki why you missed out on dinner. Dealing with her in the morning would definitely be better than having to sit at the same table with him right now.

Maybe he did.

It took a while of tossing and turning before actually drifting off to sleep, and your subconscious certainly did not help. You weren’t safe from him even in your dreams. The worst part of it was that everything felt so real. His tall frame looming over you, his skin slick with sweat shimmering under the moonlight as his chest heaved with the grunts he kept under control, those piercing red eyes staring into yours so intently that you thought he could see into your soul.

The only light you had was the illumination coming through from the full moon, just like the one in your dream. It was enough to let you find your way to the bathroom, where you quickly filled the tub and got in once the water level was enough to reach your collarbone. The cold water made your hair stand on end and got a shiver out of you, but it erased any heated thoughts you had at the moment.

Maybe he saw everything you wanted to tell him. The thought alone made you jolt awake, breathing heavily as you wiped the sweat from your brow. That’s it; you needed a cold bath now.

After getting out and throwing on a fresh nightgown, anything impure relating to Enki was gone.

“Come in.” You called, making sure not to be too loud and disrupt the Sisters next door. And there he was, bending slightly as he came into your room. You gasped and quickly pulled the blanker up to your chest, covering up just in case. He closed the door behind him but didn’t move, just stared right at you.

That is, until you heard a knock on your door.

It was actually kind of embarrassing.

“Did I disturb you?”

“Ah, no, not at all, I was already awake. Is there anything you need, Father?”

He seemed to dislike it when you called him that, since he scrunched up his nose slightly. “You can call me Enki in private, if you’d like.” His deep voice was almost enough to make you red. “Alright. Is there anything I can help you with, Enki?”

“There is.” You motioned for him to take a seat on your desk, which he took, the wooden chair groaning at the stress. Clearing his throat, he crossed his arms over his chest, making sure to maintain eye contact with you. “I have a request and a question. Your answer determines if I tell you my request.” You nodded slowly; a bit curious to what he could ask of you.

“What do you think of me?”

“E-excuse me?” His question caught you a bit off-guard, but it didn’t fail to make your heart start racing. He asked you again, slower this time, and you could swear he was doing it on purpose. You cleared your throat and took a deep breath through your nose. “Why would what I think of you matter? I’m sure you’ve heard the Sisters’ muttering.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Unless you tell me why you want to know, that is my answer.”

Enki couldn’t help the small smirk that came to his lips. He was certainly pleased with it, so he guessed it wouldn’t hurt to tell you. “I’ve been called for an extermination in America.” Your heart dropped; you were sure he could see it in your eyes. “I’m leaving in a few days, and I want you to come with me.”

You let out a surprised gasp. His gaze never left you, making you bite your bottom lip. “Are you sure of what you’re asking? The Sisters already talk about us as is, what would they say if we—“

“I don’t care what anyone has to say about the matter. However, if you do not wish to come, I won’t force you to.”

Both of you sat in silence for a few moments before you spoke. “Why me?”

Enki shifted in his seat slightly. “I suppose, I haven’t exactly told you…” He got up and walked towards your spot on the bed. “I have feelings for you, that’s why. It’s also probably the reason why the Sisters are snooping around to see if anything is going on between us.” His words made you turn red. “Enki…” You voice was barely above a whisper. “Of course I’ll go with you.” You could see his muscles relax. Was he actually tense at the thought of you rejecting him?

“Is it late to admit that I have feelings for you too?” He looked down at your smiling face, which was contagious to say the least. Lifting his hands towards your face slowly, he cupped your cheeks. You nuzzled against his palm gently as he bent down, breath fanning against your lips as he spoke. “Of course not.”

The husky tone of his voice made your hairs stand on end as he pressed his lips against yours. It was a deep, quick kiss the first time; the second held more passion behind it, his lips sensually guiding yours in a slow sync. The only sound that could be heard in the room were the smacks and sucks of your heated make-out session before he pulled back, much to your disappointment.

He ran his thumb across your bottom lip, eyes staring longingly into yours before he placed a kiss on your forehead. “Out of curiosity, what was so bad that you couldn’t tell me at confessional today?”

“I, um, was… having some sinful thoughts about you…” He chuckled at the embarrassed look on your face. “Perhaps we’re both guilty.”

“So the rumors were true, you were side-eyeing me.” You giggled; he stuck his tongue out playfully, giving you the view of his pierced tongue. The sight made heat pool between your legs and had you wrapping your arms around his neck.

Placing one knee on the bed, he shifted his weight to his arms, effectively caging you between them and eliciting a small gasp from you. His next kiss almost seemed hesitant, as if you were going to change your mind at any given moment. You lifted yourself up slightly, brushing your lips against his in reassurance. “I want you, Enki. More than just physically, I want to be by your side as someone you can depend on.”

You could feel a relieved exhale escape him and thought that was kind of endearing. He came down again, this time with feverish enthusiasm as his lips moved against yours, nipping at yours lightly and urging you to do the same. His kisses traveled from the corner of your mouth, down your jaw, and finally latching on to your neck where he left pale hickies in places that made you squirm and whine.

His tall, built frame loomed over you as he pulled away, giving you enough space for you to remove your nightgown and for him to undo his white button-up before discarding both of them onto the floor. You felt a bit nervous as his gaze traveled along your body, hands giving a few experimental caresses here and there. His touches ended just below your breasts, enjoying the small blush that dusted your cheeks when he gave them a kneed. Your breath hitched, a shaky breath leaving you as he thumbed your nipples and placed open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone.

Sneaky fingers unoccupied their place on your left breast and ventured down slowly towards your hip all the while ghosting random patterns here and there with his teasing touches. His mouth replaced his hand, earning a small mewl from you as his tongue and thumb worked simultaneously on your sensitive buds. Your fingers laced themselves into his hair, giving an involuntary tug whenever something felt better than good.

His attention to your breasts almost distracted you from his adventurous hand and how his index finger hooked onto the waistline of your underwear. Pulling them down, he admired how the goosebumps on your skin appeared as soon as he started trailing kisses down your abdomen. He didn’t, however, appreciate the way you were trying to hold in any sound. His gaze met yours when you looked down at him, and he made sure to tease you with slow and sensual kisses to your skin. A tentative lick went down your pelvis, and a smirk appeared on his face when you cried out right after his tongue went flat against your clit.

This was sinful, this whole situation was, but neither of you seemed to care anymore. All that went through your minds was enjoying everything both of you had to offer.

Your grip on his hair tightened and your hips rolled on their own, breath catching in your throat whenever he looked up to meet your eyes. Every kiss, every lick, every suck drove you wild and all you could do was throw your head back, let his name fall off your lips like a prayer, and move against his tongue. That piercing sure did wonders; it had you cumming in no time.

Maybe it was the sexual tension you had been building up since God knows how long, but Enki had your legs trembling and your chest heaving using only his mouth, and that orgasm left you seeing stars even after your breathing calmed.

You looked down, the red on your cheeks returning when you saw his slick lips and chin. He looked at you through half-lidded eyes and ran his tongue along his lips slowly, undoing his belt as your breath hitched again. The sight alone had you trying to rub your legs together, only to be stopped by his hips. He gave you a moment to take in everything, slowly sliding down his black slacks and his boxers before grabbing your thigh and hooking your leg onto his waist as he brought you close.

His eyes locked with yours, searching for approval. You nodded your head slowly and he took both your arms to drape over his muscular shoulders. The head of his cock brushed against your wet folds, coating itself before he rubbed the rest of himself against you. You bit your lip, mostly because the feeling was arousing, but also to try and relax yourself.

Your hands hold onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he pushed himself inside you slowly. He locked his jaw, teeth slightly bared as a groan vibrated in his chest. One of his hands makes sure to rub circles around your clit and ease away the discomfort with some pleasure while the other leaves your thigh to cup your cheek and bring you into another searing kiss.

He grunted into your mouth when you rolled your hips against his. You pulled away slightly, murmuring a soft ‘Move’ before going in for another kiss. Enki did as he was told and started a slow pace, all the while making sure his thumb kept in sync with his rhythm. When you threw your head back in a moan, he latched his lips onto your neck again. His thrusts started to pick up, and he appreciated the way your hips met his half-way.

Your hold on his neck tightened and you could feel the familiar sensation starting to build up again. Judging by the frequent grunts that were drowned out by your own mewls, you assumed he was too. His name spilled from your lips again, and both of your legs tightened around his waist while his free hand gripped the sheets beside your head.

It wasn’t long before you came again, contracting against his cock in a tight squeeze that had his hips sputtering against yours as his orgasm washed over him too.

The aftermath had you in a daze, fingers absent-mindly tracing over his toned chest. His eyes were trained on your face, taking in the sight of your glowing face, before snapping his head at the door when both of you heard a knock.

“We need to talk. Both of you.”

It was Sister Hyakushiki. And she didn’t sound amused.

[toony-fanfics]

Goodmorning, Dear! 🧇

~🌹~

Oneshot

Pairing: Alastor x Atlas (OC)

Word count: 881

Summary: just atlas waking up to breakfast for once!

Warnings: none!

~🌹~

The streets of Hell were never really known for being “relaxing” or “calm”. There were almost always screams, fights, music, anything you could think of. Hell never got less overwhelming, one just got used to everything after a while. You’re stuck there for all of eternity, after all. It’s something you have to get used to. However, there were places and times where it was bearable. Specifically, early morning at the Hazbin Hotel.

Usually Atlas had been the one to wake up first. After all, he was the hotel’s chef. Guests depended on him to provide sustenance. Granted, there weren’t many guests, but the staff also needed food in them to go about their day. Plus, the more time Atlas got to spend in the kitchen, the better. It was a safe place for him, one he didn’t share with many.

Except one, of course.

Though, this morning, Atlas woke up to the sound of Heartaches by Al Bowlly echoing throughout the hotel. Someone else was up, and by the music, Atlas could guess pretty well that the one awake was none other than Alastor. After all, Atlas didn’t know anyone else who listened to old music like this.

Sitting up in his bed, Atlas rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before stretching. Glancing over to the mirror that hung up on the wall, the blue goat got out of his bed and walked towards the closet. Tilting his head slightly, he picked out a white long-sleeved button-up, along with a pair of blue jeans and suspenders. A bit out of the ordinary, since he usually wore his blue sweatervest, but he’d subconsciously wanted to look at least decent for Alastor. Another Al Bowlly song starts playing, and it wasn’t long before Atlas started humming along with it. Taking a hairbrush, the goat began fixing his hair a bit, not particularly enjoying the bed-head look.

The goat takes a step back and observes himself in the mirror. With a smile, he sticks his thumbs under his suspenders and rocks back and forth for a moment, nodding before grabbing a dark blue tie. Draping it over his neck, he got distracted by the multitude of shoes he had. With a hum, he finally slips on his black oxford shoes, and steps out of his room with a stretch. The music gets noticeably louder as Atlas heads down the hall.

Atlas also picked up a smell from the kitchen. It was food, that much he knew. None he’s ever made or tasted before, though, since the smell was unrecognizable. Stepping into the kitchen with a head tilt, the blue demon spots Alastor at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Another Al Bowlly song begins to play, and Alastor hums along, the soft, melodic tone of his voice wrapping its way around Atlas like a warm hug on a cold autumn day. With a smile, the demon made his way over and hugged Alastor from behind. The radio demon tensed up momentarily, softening milliseconds after realizing who the culprit was.

“And a very good morning to you as well, my dear. I trust that you slept alright?” Alastor asks, glancing down at Atlas. The goat shrugs, leaning into the taller demon.

“I slept in. ‘m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“Nonsense, cher! No trouble at all, I assure you. You needed the rest. After all, a fine chef such as yourself needs to be at his best!” Alastor reassured.

Atlas smiles a bit before his eyes flicked down to the skillet on the stove. He’d recognized pecans in there, though wasn’t sure why. “Whatcha makin’?” He asked. Alastor’s grin seems to grow in excitement, as if he’d been waiting for Atlas to ask him that.

“Why, I’m making something my mother used to make me for breakfast when I was a boy! Sweet potato-pecan waffles. They’re absolutely delightful, my dear. You’ll love them!” He spoke, swaying along with the next song that played. Atlas chuckled a little bit.

“Don’t think I’ve ever heard of those. Maybe I should try makin’ ‘em at some point.” The smaller demon mumbled, his mind drifting off. What other foods did Alastor like? Maybe if he figured out a way to subtly ask, he could make them for the taller demon, or-

Atlas was snapped out of his thoughts when Alastor began tying the untied tie around his neck. A small laugh escaped the blue demon as he realized he’d completely forgotten to tie it.

“My dear, I have to say… I find this little fad you’re trying to start quite humorous!” The radio demon spoke, laughing as he finished the job, patting Atlas’ chest. “Tell me, mon cher, what’s the occasion? You’re dressed quite differently this morning.”

“No occasion. Jus’ wanted to switch it up a lil’ bit. Y’like it?” The goat asks, sticking his thumbs through his suspenders just as he’d done in his room. Alastor tilts his head while staring down at Atlas, a look of adoration forming in his eyes.

“It’s wonderful, darling. Quite becoming on you, I must say! Now! How about some waffles?”

Atlas smiles and nods, and with that, the two sit down at the counter, waffles in front of them as they spent the morning talking and laughing.

[miss-andromeda]

In A Storm With My Best Dress

Universe: TMNT 2012

Turtle of Choice: Donatello

Prompt: “Well, that didn’t go as planned…”

Song Inspirations: Fearless (Taylor’s Version) by Taylor Swift, Streets by Doja Cat

Non-canon to my main story, as Andi and Don are 19. There’s no explicit smut, but it does get quite spicy - to be safe, I would consider this NSFW. Read at your own risk.

----------

“Come in.” Donnie’s voice, laced with drowsiness, echoed through the closed door. Andi smiled to herself as she lightly pushed it open, gritting her teeth at the creaking. April’s farmhouse was definitely showing its wear at this point - considering they had been going there since they were 16, it made sense that three years and seven pairs of feet against the floorboards would wear them down. 

“Hey.”

Donnie smiled softly at the sight of her, putting the book he was reading aside. “Hi, enchantress. What’s got you awake at 12:30 am?”

“How about we do something kind of adventurous?” She chuckled to herself as Donnie raised a nonexistent eyebrow. “Let’s go into the woods. See if we can find any plants to dissect; evening primroses, Japanese wisteria, and stuff like that. And maybe catch some fireflies while we’re at it. Like we’re little kids.”

Donnie’s confusion melted into an intrigued, slightly smug smile. “What made you want to do this, exactly?”

Andi’s confidence faded a bit as her arms went subconsciously around her stomach. “No reason, per se. I, um…” She fumbled for a reason - all while Donnie maintained that annoyingly adorable smile. “I just think it’d be fun, that’s all.” She then smirked at him, wanting to turn the tables. “I’m just surprised that you’re not jumping at the chance to go with your girlfriend into an isolated area, in the middle of the night, with no one following us.”

But Donnie didn’t fall for it, only chuckling back. “I’m not Casey, enchantress. I’d like to think I have at least 100 more IQ points than him.”

Andi laughed to herself as she nodded in agreement. “My point still stands, are you coming with me or not?” And when Donnie only smiled at her, this time genuinely, Andi knew that was her answer right there.

----------

“It’s oddly beautiful out here, don’t you think?” 

“Definitely. Especially considering we’re not constantly facing threats from rage-bent mutants, or alien robots, or a spiteful master of ninjutsu who wanted nothing more than to destroy us.”

“Or a hate-fueled understudy that was bent on revenge and wanted nothing more than to finish what she started all those years ago.” Andi gave him a little smile as Donnie lightly squeezed her shoulder in comfort. “It’s fine now. She’s in the past, and she’ll stay there as far as I’m concerned.”

Donnie gave her a matching smile as he leaned in to lightly kiss her cheek. “You’re really done with her, huh?” When Andi nodded, his smile widened. “Good. You should be.”

She was about to respond, but her mind went blank as she felt a little drop against her arm. “What the…” Upon noticing it was rainwater on her skin, Andi’s eyes went wide as she stared at the sky. “You’ve got to be kidding me…”

As if to answer her question, another drop of rainwater landed directly on her forehead, making her both grimace and growl. “Don, run with me as fast as you can.”

Donnie didn’t need to say anything as he grabbed her hand and did just as she said, running as fast as he possibly could. They made it to the farmhouse in record time - but they still ended up looking like wet dogs (or at least, Andi did) by the time they made it back to the porch.

“Well, that didn’t go as planned…” Donnie mumbled as he had taken off his bandana, wringing out the excess water in it. While he wasn’t happy, he wasn’t furious either. It was just a major coincidence that the one night that he and Andi went outside into the woods to spend some time together, it rained.

Andi, meanwhile, was practically fuming as she crossed her arms, her hair matted to her face and her bow and pink t-shirt spotted with rainwater. “You think?” She muttered as she scowled at the now-soaked ground. “I should’ve researched whether it would rain tonight…such a dumb mistake…” She added, but softened almost immediately as Donnie pulled her into a hug to calm her down. “I’m sorry…I just hate that we had to get interrupted by the weather of all things…” She mumbled against his plastron, making him weakly smile as he left a kiss on her wet hair. 

“How ‘bout we go inside, dry off, and you change into something else? We can sneak out another time.”

Andi chuckled to herself at that. “What, so you want to sneak out next time?”

“Enchantress, I’ll do anything if it’s with you.”

Her heart fluttered as her smile increased and she pulled away to meet his eyes. “Let’s go.”

Donnie led her inside at the simple command and back upstairs, this time to her bedroom. “I’ll get you a towel.” He offered, making her smile softly as thanks. He then headed to the linen closet next to the bathroom, grabbed a worn but still usable white towel, and came back to her, letting her take it and wrap it around herself. “I’ll leave you be.” He smiled at her as he watched her go inside to her room, then went back to the closet to get another towel for himself. He was relieved that as a mutant, he dried much quicker than Andi did - and most of the rainwater from him was left on the porch. 

He quickly dried himself off, then tossed the damp towel in the washing machine in the laundry room. Tomorrow (or rather, in the daytime) would be laundry day, so April would take care of it while they were staying here. 

He walked back upstairs to the same scene as before. The hallway was quiet, but the sounds of snoring (likely from Mikey) echoed faintly from one of the bedroom doors. Rolling his eyes fondly, he decided to see if Andi was done yet. She normally didn’t take long to get dressed, and admittedly, there was a side of him that just wanted to hold her and go to sleep. The rain tapping against the windows was oddly comforting, and the thought of cuddling with Andi while listening to that sounded oddly soothing. 

But what his big mistake was…he forgot to knock. 

“Andi, are you-”

It was only a split second, but it was the first time he had seen her bra - white with a little bow in between the cups. 

Of course she wore a bra with a bow on it.

Of course.

“What the- Donnie, out!” Andi whisper-yelled to him as she scrambled to find a shirt, her face turning scarlet from embarrassment. Donnie did just that as he silently slammed the door, his face somehow turning a darker red than hers was. All the while, he was mumbling frantic apologies and how he swore on Darwin’s beard that he would never do anything that dumb again. 

But as he waited outside, his face still burning and his breathing a tiny bit…shallow, weirdly enough, he started to form a mental image in his head. She looked…beautiful like that. It was a weird sense of innocence and vulnerability, and even if he knew that he was not meant to see such a thing, it didn’t stop him from having an internal spontaneous combustion. Like his mind just went blank upon seeing her like that.

Maybe it was just primal instinct (he was a turtle at heart, anyway), but there was something about that image that Donnie never wanted to erase from his mind. 

In fact, there was a part of him that…almost wanted to see Andi like that again, as perverted as that sounded.

He was thankfully interrupted when Andi opened the door, now wearing a white top with pink text - saying ‘Made of SArCaSm’ - each element was written like it was part of the periodic table. But what was also prevalent was her flushed face. 

Very her. 

“So can we agree to just…never indulge that with anyone?” She asked, her voice still a soft whisper at the risk of waking someone up. 

When Donnie only nodded (his tongue felt so heavy that he could barely get the words out), Andi’s lips curled into a little smile as she led him into her bedroom, then shut the door behind her. “Is there a reason why you’re not speaking, professor?”

That nickname. Normally, it was endearing and Donnie always found himself either beaming or blushing (or both) when she used it. 

But now…it was not helping his burning face or the fact that his breathing was still a little bit shallow. 

“Don?”

Now she was starting to get concerned. He never acted like this; sure, he got flustered or embarrassed around her at times, but it was never to the point where he looked like he was about to pass out. 

“Hon? Are you-mmph?!”

She was cut off by Donnie kissing her with an unusual sense of reckless passion, cupping her jaw with his hands. Normally, he was much more delicate and pristine with her, always treating her like she was made of porcelain china, and the slightest jolt or drop would destroy her forever.

But here, all gentleness was out the window. And while it was a bit jarring (and frankly, startling at first,) Andi had to admit, she liked it. 

But it was over before it began; Donnie pulled away with an even redder face (if that was possible) and analyzed what he did. Her lips were a bit puffy and red, her eyes were wide and the look of confusion (but also…slight desperation? What?!) were so prominent. 

But he knew that if he said it wasn’t one of the most amazing sights he had ever seen, he’d be a liar. 

“What…was that for?” Andi breathed out as their eyes met. Judging by her tone, she was not about to start complaining, but she was more startled than anything. 

“I’m…” Donnie bit his tongue as he looked at the floor. He wasn’t about to apologize for doing that, but at the same time, he didn’t know what really came over him. 

Wait, yes, he did. 

That image.

“Andi…seeing you like…” He swallowed the heavy lump in his throat as he proceeded to explain himself. “...that, it um…triggered something…in me. I-I don’t know what, but it’s this feeling where I just want to be with you and love you like the goddess you are and-mmph…”

He was cut off this time by Andi kissing him in response - and he knew why. Partly to shut him up, partly because of the way her irises changed as he spoke. They became a bit more hooded, and he could’ve sworn that instead of looking into his eyes, she was looking directly at his lips, just waiting for the moment to make her move. 

And before either of them knew it, they were on her bed, and the kiss had gotten more feverish. Hands started to wander a bit, teeth started to collide, and with how warm they were so close together, it felt like the two of them would explode as a fireball if they weren’t careful.

Andi gasped against his lips as she felt his hand slip up her shirt and brush his fingers against her bra - likely to fuel his newfound fascination with it. She grabbed his bandana straps and ran her fingers along his neck, making him gasp and churr, before moving his lips down to her own neck.

But before he did, though, she gave him what he was clearly wanting. She pulled him away, and then slipped her shirt off, her bra free for his viewing pleasure.

This was a first. There was just something in the air that made them both want to just leap headfirst into unknown waters.

But unknown or not, Donnie’s kisses reverted to how they always were - soft, feathery, and leaving Andi sighing in contentment. He scattered kisses all across her neck; even dipping down even further to her collarbone as a little bonus. And that was something Andi always loved about him; he managed to be both teasing and gentle with her - even in the most intimate (and vulnerable) moments.

And that was never more evident than when Andi let out in between soft whines and gasps, “Is that all you’ve got?”

Oh.

Oh.

Never did it feel more perfect to do more. 

Letting his instincts take over fully, Donnie started to bite softly at her neck, making her finally moan into her pillow. And never did he hear a more beautiful, yet…almost carnal sound. 

He wanted more the second he heard it. 

So he found the spot that made her shudder the second he found it - and started alternating between biting and sucking softly. And when he heard her start to whimper and moan quietly as she bit her lip, something…unlocked in him. 

He liked hearing her like that. 

He loved seeing her like that. 

When he was finally satisfied and pulled away, his lips quirked up into a smirk as he saw the mark he left, but thankfully, Andi didn’t notice as he went back to kissing her collarbone. 

It was only when his hand started slipping behind her back to fumble with her bra straps did she gasp and shake her head. “Wait, Don…not now.”

Immediately, the sensual look in his eye faded and he went back to being his normal self. He nodded and gave her a little smile, handing her shirt back to her as he pulled her into his chest to cuddle. “Well, that was definitely an, um…interesting way to improvise.” He mumbled, making Andi snort quietly with laughter. 

Always such a dork with her. 

“Yeah, you’re telling me…” She agreed, but then her lips quirked downward. Something was on her mind. “Um, you’re not…mad at me, are you?” She asked, looking up to meet his eyes. 

Donnie’s nonexistent eyebrows furrowed in worry. “What? Why would I be mad?”

“Well, because we didn’t…you know…” She muttered, her face starting to turn hot at the implication she was making. 

He only ‘tsked’ and shook his head, pulling her closer. “Andi, I’m never mad with you. And I’m never going to be mad about that. I want you to be comfortable, and if you want to wait a while, that’s completely fine with me. You just let me know when you feel completely, and totally, 100% ready. Like I said, I’ll do anything if it’s with you.”

Andi’s eyes filled with warmth as she pulled him even closer to her. “How’d I get so lucky to get you?” She mumbled into his plastron.

Donnie smiled at her and smoothed her hair back, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “I’m the one that should be asking that.”

She smiled up at him, but now her eyes held a hint of playfulness. “That’s definitely one of the cheesiest things you’ve ever said in the four years we’ve been together.”

Donnie’s giggle echoed throughout the bedroom as he left another kiss on her head. 

----------

The morning sunlight flooded the bedroom - especially considering Andi had opened the curtains the day before to watch the sunrise with Leo. But this time, she and Donnie had gleefully slept through the sunrise, still wrapped up in each other’s arms and with little smiles on their faces. 

But the quiet was broken as Mikey opened the door with a huge grin and holding a frying pan. “Hey-” But then he noticed the two were asleep, and lowered his voice to his normal tone. “Hey, dudes, come on. Breakfast is ready, made by yours truly.”

They were promptly woken up at that - Donnie yawned and stretched his limbs, while Andi rubbed at her eyes and smoothed at her hair. They looked like wrecks, but unlike normally, they didn’t seem grumpy. It was probably because of the moment they shared in the middle of the night, but regardless of what it was, the smile they shared as Andi addressed Mikey was warm and soft. “We’ll be down in a few minutes, Mikey.” She told the youngest brother, making him give them a thumbs up.

“Gotcha! Just try to be quick in case you want-” Mikey then noticed something on Andi’s neck - a red mark with a hint of purple. “Whoa, Andi, what happened to your neck?” But then he thought of something. “Ohh, did you get into a wrestling match with the vacuum trying to get your Crognard action figure back too?” He then nodded to himself, as if he just figured it out perfectly. “Been there, done that, girl.”

“What?” Andi slightly yelped, her hand going to her neck. When she ran to the little vanity in the corner of the room and peeked at the mark on her neck, she looked at Donnie through the mirror. “Really?”

Donnie only chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, well, you know-” Before he could finish his own sentence, he booked it out of the bedroom and ran down the stairs, tittering to himself along the way. 

Shaking her head, Andi managed a little smile to Mikey. “Excuse me, Mikey. I’ve got to go kill your brother.” She then raced after him, her messy hair flowing in the wind. “Get back here!” She yelled, completely ignoring the confused looks that the two of them got from everyone else.

----------

@leosgirl82 @thelaundrybitch @turtle-babe83 @tinkabelle19 @happymoonangel @margoteve @android-cap-007

Here's my submission for this month's All 4-1 Challenge! Hope you enjoy 😊 🩷

[wastemanjohn]

hi happy dadfucker friday! so i haven't read a lot of deanbobby (yet) except i think in one of your fics where dean and john fuck on his couch and dean's curiosity/attraction towards bobby is implied? how do you think their relationship starts (or when) and how does bobby's attraction manifest itself differently than john's? since i would assume he's a better father figure to dean

Hey! Happy DFF and thank you so much for indulging me in the deanbobby, and sorry its taken me like 2 weeks to answer you!

I really love that you read implied attraction to Bobby from that fic! I wrote that back when I was squicked to fuck by the very idea of them (I was so innocent) and I was mostly just trying to be gross lol but maybe subconsciously I was already going there? 🤪 Headcanon accepted anyway.

I think their relationship starts preseries. I talked about it a little before - I think Dean essentially goes to Bobby when John throws him out or otherwise isn't giving him what he needs. I see Bobby as kind of like an extramarital affair. Like, I don't see this ever happening without background johndean; I don't think Dean would have ever seen Bobby that way if his relationship with John hadn't kind of warped his mind to see "father figures" and "people I should fuck" in the same breath. Which is why this ship is hugely dadfucker adjacent to me... I think regardless of any previous existing relationship Bobby is the exact kind of guy Dean would seek out to sleep with anyway. I see Dean gravitating towards lonely old men because his his daddy is/was one. It's familiar. Comforting. Recognisable. We can be heavily attracted to what we know... its good when things are predictable, when we know what to expect.

I don't know if Bobby necessarily has any kind of preexisting attraction to Dean. I don't think it would ever even have occurred to him to try it on with Dean if Dean hadn't come to him first... and I do see Dean 100% initiating this. I see Bobby *wanting* to turn Dean down, knowing that he *should* turn Dean down... because this is beyond fucked up. He's known Dean since he was a little kid. He took him in and treated him like one of his own. Its hard for him not to *see* Dean that way still - as a son figure, as a mixed up, troubled kid. But... Bobby is desperately desperately lonely. He probably goes for days, or weeks, without seeing or speaking to another person. That can really fuck with someone. Throw in some clear impulse control difficulties... then Dean, drunk and sad because John's thrown him out again and he has nowhere else to go, climbing into his lap with his big pretty pleading eyes, "just once, please, just one more time..." well, Bobby ain't no saint. And Dean is so sweet, and he really kisses like it means something...

I think it would be harder still for Bobby to know that Dean's probably only doing this because of his Daddy issues. I don't think Bobby knows the extent, or if he does he's in denial about it... but better him than some potentially dangerous stranger of a man right... and at least in some way he's looking out for Dean, giving him what he needs. One way of justifying it to himself, anyway.

So maybe its not so much about sex itself as it is about connectivity? Kind of like an emotional attraction... this is safe, and its comforting, and it'a their secret... and when they give into it, it feels very, very good. Dean gets things from Bobby that he can't get from John - comfort, softness, undivided attention. Bobby gets things from Dean that he can't get from - well - anyone. They feel good around each other. They feel safe around each other. Dean's warped and associates feeling that way around someone with wanting to have sex with them. Bobby just... kind of gets caught up in it, he doesn't have much else going on.

So this is to say I think, in any relationship type scenario, sex for the sake of sex itself is not the primary motivator. It happens - I happen to think it's even pretty good (sorry to the limp dick Bobby truthers). But it's just two lonely people clinging to each other I think for the most part. It's depressing, and it's really hot. And I'll talk about the BDSM headcanon I keep alluding to more openly when I feel a bit braver lol.

eta: @vintagedean @setyourfireonme in case u interested

[kellywithawhy]

THEORY: ADRIEN + MARINETTE BOTH KNOW! Psychoanalytic reading here!

Season 5 spoilers below with some vague nods to the finale.

Okay so I literally returned to Tumblr after 9 years just to make this post because I can’t stop psychoanalysing Miraculous and I bet that Astruc and Zag or the writers or somebody is a psychoanalysis buff too.

So I am convinced that Adrien/Chat Noir and Marinette/Ladybug KNOW—albeit unconsciously—about their alter egos! And this is why they keep blocking themselves from being together: BECAUSE they know! Also, they might literally be one soul in two bodies. Or something like that.

Let me explain. So, the conscious mind is your everyday internal monologue; the subconscious is like the sorting/mail room that carries on processing more quietly and which processes info constantly, either sending it to the conscious mind to deal with or sending unimportant, terrifying, and/or reality-destroying info the unconscious to repress or deal with in its own way. FYI the unconscious comes through our DREAMS and our BODIES. So the body might process the unconscious through a nightmare, for example, or it might create a disease, a desire, “chemistry”, etc. The body remembers. And the unconscious talks though symbols and the abstract etc.

Therefore, if you’re in love with someone, and you know them physically, even if they’re in the best disguise in the world, your subconscious is going to pick up that scent. That body language. That laugh. That energetic footprint. Your body is going to either lean into them or recoil from them (depending on who it is to you). This is maybe another factor for why Gabriel pushed Adrien away or why Adrien keeps leaning into Marinette and touching her even though he isn’t consciously aware of his feelings. He’s literally programmed unconsciously to seek her out because his unconscious knows that she’s Ladybug.

So here we are all making jokes wondering how after X many seasons, how can our characters be so blind?? WELL maybe they’re not. Maybe they all see and know but then the subconscious goes AHHH this is bad! Because REASONS. And then sends it to the unconscious. (More on that in a sec.)

As a result, we have the crazy both ways love square where they all love each other but keep finding ways to keep each other at a distance. They know their love for each other and that it’s reciprocated but have to play both parts of chaser and refuser because it’s like a battle with their internal selves over what they want and can’t have, and they’re playing it with each other too.

So why can’t they have each other? Why is the unconscious keeping it all locked up and still saying no? Well, if we look at the language of the unconscious, we see Chat Blanc in Mari’s nightmares, so that is an obvious reason why she would reject not only Chat but also Adrien. On Adrien’s side, i think he’s probably afraid of being rejected by both Ladybug and Marinette, which is why he is so hurt when he thinks that Marinette doesn’t like him or is rejecting him (even though he claims to be in love with a different person! E.G. Puppeteer 2–which has another example of the unconscious taking over: the body/unconscious definitely knows that Adrien isn’t a statue!!)

And when/if you’ve seen the last few eps of Season 5: this whole unconscious theory neatly explains that whacky creepy video from Feligami. But they can’t just tell Marinette this other reveal. Or else she’ll just go BAM it was a dream: into the unconscious with you!! Instead they have to speak the language of the unconscious (symbolism, abstract, unreal) so that it’s safely « a weird movie » and then give space for the conscious mind to sort it out for itself. Which is probably why Marinette falls asleep! And is why people faint at crazy news. Their conscious, subconscious, and unconscious minds need to sit down and have a meeting!!

So therefore I reckon that Adrien could literally transform in front of her and she wouldn’t believe it. In fact, she wipes or resolves those timelines, which is her metaphoric forgetting too—her choice not to see it or go down that timeline.

But I have a more whacky theory too that might also lend to the reality-bending aspect that gets info sorted to the unconscious. Remember how in The Kwami’s Choice Plagg reminds Tikki that they’re « really ONE »? And who’s seen the last ep?

Meanwhile, Tikki says that Marinette and Adrien were « made for each other ». And they are the miraculous holders, continually magnetised back to the job and each other. What if one some higher cosmic level Adrien and Marinette are one Soul?

Okay THANK YOU I CAN SLEEP NOW