#reality felt strange all day

[genderfreakxx]

Do I get extra credit for living most of today sober and with only one functioning headphone

[cextra-loz]

Today I was able to stand for a new limit of 50 minutes when my physical symptoms are at their most minimal in a controlled environment. So we know 50 is the max now we're trying to reach 1 hour. I feel like I could've reached an hour with how I was feeling but the muscle endurance in my legs wouldn't have let me. I'm reaching a weird stage in my progress where its been so long since my body has had to support my weight for that long the blood pooling in my soles irritates and hurts like hell the days afterwards so now i'm rubbing the my feet like i've worked a hard day to prevent the inflammation from impeding my progress. I feel tho if I can reach that 1 hour limit I can reach longer times with practice. Its been years since i've stood for so long i'm really excited to keep practicing and hopefully keep improving. Last year around this time I was barely reaching 35 maybe 40 if I really really pushed- during my least symptomatic hours. Those extra 10 minutes might not mean much but since the beginning of my illness I never imagined i'd be able to make it to 30 let alone 50. I felt pretty good this session too which is the most important part, I feel like its the lack of muscular stamina that held me back rather than cardiac endurance. Anyway update is over, if I reach that 1 hour time it'll be a happy day I cannot tell how long it'll take me to reach that time but with some more practice I think a few weeks or months at least i'd imagine maybe even sooner. I'm so happy lets go! Dreams do come true at least 4 me ehehe!

[lady-ashfade]

Our comfort

Platonic!Yan!Camp Half-Blood x Comfort!Goddess!Reader. (Percy, Annabeth, Grover)

—£ Yes I know I haven’t finish the book but I actually couldn’t wait anymore. So, this is me with little knowledge so bare that in mind.

—£ Warnings: Book/show spoilers, Yandere! Behavior, Being bound to a place, Possessive behavior, Obsessive behavior, Manipulation, Characters fighting for the reader’s attention. Short.

You weren’t a known for too long goddess, much younger then rest of the gods. A teenager like age compared to them. It was strange to have more powerful gods look to you for comfort but you love it. As you are the goddess of comfort.

But, as the other gods started to have many demigods you saw how miserable they could get. You hated the fact they didn’t care for their children so you decided to stay at the camp for half-bloods when the time came.

The campers cling to you. You bring a comfort they never quite felt before. It was like a warm hug, like the ones they wanted from their parents.

You couldn’t leave, and at the beginning you were glad to accept that fate.

Almost always you are found surrounded by demigods and they just relax in your comfort. You are the one they go to with every worry in their mind.

Being close to Aphrodite, her seeing you as a sister and a younger child. Stories of your love for one another are still told today, as she gave ideas to the mortals of how great your relationship was. But in reality there wasn’t much to tell.

So her children have a mentality that they are your favorite and because of their mother, they have some sort of claim to you above the others. But that never works because you love the children equally.

The demigods have less nightmares with you around and watching over them.

Ares children fight often for your affection. They will constantly get into fights with others to show they deserve more time with you. Which you always scold them but it never sticks. They kiss their weapons each time to you, like a sign of good luck. Aries children are one of the worsts ones because they get aggressive at times, even with you. But the golds make them stop by punishing them, mostly their father.

Hermes children are hard to explain really. They aren’t aggressive, but they are mischievous. They take their revenge of stealing things from the other campers, pulling pranks. Or trapping some of them up and go straight to you before they can get there. Luke for instance, is always looking around for you and talking about his day. He’s either laying down next to you, or making you watch him train.

Many games of all houses take place just for you.

AnnaBeth, is constantly by your side when she has free time. She scares off people with a glare behind your back, knowing that she could put plan them. She also trains and makes you watcher her and needs your praise. Maybe, somehow you are her older sister. But, sometimes she just chills by your side not saying anything, she’s like a lost duck at times.

Grover however is actually a lost duck. You comfort him when his past missions fail and he loses kids. You are so nice to him and makes him feel special and brave. When he has to leave he keeps a coin in his pocket with your face on it and prays a lot. He’s not possessive much. He’s willing to take what he can get and is just happy to be there. But maybe if someone comes in when he’s “crying” and having you fuss over him then he’ll be a bit mad but never does anything about it.

When a new camper arrives you devote your time to them because they need it a little more. They come into a world they know nothing of, waiting for the parent they hardly know to claim them. You claim them like your own until the time comes.

So when Percy comes you feel something off with him, like he is special and in need of a lot. He lost his mom, taken from the world he knew.

Percy becomes the most possessive out of all of them.

He feels out of place but you are always there to listen to him. It doesn’t help that you follow him to make sure he’s okay. At the beginning you’re both following each other around.

“It’s okay, Percy.” You brush his hair lightly like his mother used to do. “You’ll get claim, and you’ll have glory.” And he doesn’t care if you say that to everyone because you make him feel special. 

Also, you protect the new bloods. So you’ll show up when he gets bullied and just raise one brow and they all back off. Can’t risk making you mad at them.

When Percy gets claimed he’s all alone again, no friends and the campers looking at him funny. Being one of the top threes son isn’t fun or easy. He shares a cabin all to himself.

So he starts to be the worst of them all. Raising his voice when you try and leave him and he manipulates you to stay with him. Can’t you see how alone he is?

He can’t sleep unless he knows your watching over him.

You pick no sides of the war. Your family will figure it out themselves, while you take care of their children.

[kaidatheghostdragon]

Jury Duty

Danny has been living his best life in Gotham, hiding from the GIW but mostly moving forward with his life. (College, job, whatever)

Until his name is drawn for jury duty.

He complains to his friends. They bring up a few interesting points. Shouldnt being dead disqualify him? Eventually the anti ecto acts are brought up. Can the government enforce jury duty on a citizen that was declared legally non-sentient?

Now, it might not have been danny's smartest idea, but he replies to the summons with a "cant, i died," attaching a copy of the anti ecto acts and a short argument that its hypocritical of the government to strip him of his rights but still expect him to fulfill his civic responsibilities.

Whatever government desk job gets danny's reply to the summons thinks its a joke at first (theyre no stranger to the colorful and creative excuses people come up with to try to get out of jury duty), but danny provided all the right paperwork and instructions for them to jump through all the hoops necessary to locate the obscure law. They send it higher up the chain of command.

But this is Gotham. After several days of ruminating over the strange law, they decide to leave a tip on the bats' hotline (set up and maintained by Oracle). The whole situation felt a bit left of reality, and they weren't paid enough to deal with that shit. And if the government really was the problem here (look, they might have landed a secure government-funded desk job, but they were a grunt and held no loyalty to the government that continuously screwed over their home city), then merely passing the buck meant it would get covered up instead of exposed.

Oracle gets the message and starts digging, determining that this is A Big Problem, Actually. First order of business is to track down this Danny guy and give him a bat-level security detail. Second order is to push this to the Justice league.

The thing is, the giw had successfully hidden themselves from the justice league up until now. They covered their tracks, took care of loose ends. The laws were written to look like pest control.

They never considered that someone would respond to a jury duty sommons with "cant, im dead." First of all, they dont know about halfas, who could be dead without ever being legally declared. Secondly, why would a ghost pretend to be alive? Thirdly, why would they blow their cover? ("Sir, its *jury duty.*" "point withdrawn.")

It was pure chance that the desk job took it seriously enough to report it, and oracle only recognized the threat as it was because she made the logical leap from ectoplasm to lazarus water.

The bats investigate by intercepting danny's summons. Fortunately, the higher up decided it was a joke and didnt share it any further. Unfortunately, they told danny that he better show up for jury duty, come hell or high water.

That route blocked, they hack in a jury summons for jason todd. Being Actually Legally Dead, with all the paperwork correctly filed, means that he would never actually get a summons, but they need someone on this inside that clearly falls into the same category as danny to keep a close eye on him.

Anyways, this was a long and twisted set up to get not one, but two individuals in the same jury duty line up claiming they "cant, i died."

[luminnara]

Traditions | Feyd-Rautha x Reader

REQUEST: As Feyd-Rautha's wife-to-be, you have moved to the Harkonnen homeworld to await your wedding. You're doing your best to adhere to their customs, but when a supposed doctor examines your 'purity,' Feyd-Rautha's reaction is anything but calm.

MASTERLIST

Requests are open! This was one of the first I received for Feyd-Rautha, I hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS: SA in a medical setting (not graphic but also more than just implied), canon typical violence (also not graphic)

Harkonnen customs were strange.

Harkonnens were strange.

Everything about Giedi Prime felt alien to you—its black sun, bathing the world in infrared; its barren landscape, polluted and abused by years of unbridled industry; and, perhaps most of all, its nobility, the Baron and his his nephew, Feyd-Rautha.

“A Harkonnen?” You had choked out when your parents informed had you of the decision. You had been in disbelief, as if reality had come to slap you in the face. All you had ever known was your homeworld and the comforts of the family palace, on a planet that was lush and beautiful. Everything you had ever heard of the Harkonnen homeworld was the opposite—harsh and inhospitable, its people even more so. You had resisted the information initially, refusing to believe that your life was changing so suddenly and so dramatically.

But, ever the dutiful daughter, you stood and met the na-Baron when he arrived, openly staring at his appearance while another Harkonnen introduced him. Feyd-Rautha was extremely pale, his skin nearly white, and, like the rest of the delegation from Giedi Prime, he was hairless. He did not even have eyebrows, and as your father welcomed him to your world, you wondered if he was truly hairless, everywhere.

As your thoughts wandered, the na-Baron’s eyes slid to you, meeting yours. You suddenly felt as though you had been caught doing something naughty, the way he looked at you, drinking you in, tilting his head slightly as he appraised you.

“Is the na-Baron pleased with what he sees?” You spoke up in a moment of bravery.

His eyes raked over your body and he smirked, making a rough sound you assumed might be a laugh.

“Oh yes, princess.” His voice was just as harsh as you’d expected. “Very.”

Feyd-Rautha spent a week on your planet, courting you in the ways of your House. He presented you with gifts of refined spice and Harkonnen riches, knives and strangely austere jewelry. He walked with you in the evenings, where you spoke of mundane things, unsure of what you were meant to do in his presence exactly, and he watched you like a hawk hunting a field mouse. When the week was up, you accompanied him back to Giedi Prime to prepare for the wedding, leaving your homeworld behind.

Feyd-Rautha was less well behaved when not surrounded by the members of another House. He was an unsettling, panther-like man, always on the hunt for something to kill…and when you arrived on his planet, you saw that he sometimes killed without abandon, fighting drugged prisoners in a public arena to satisfy his own ego.

You were not sure that you wanted him as your husband—he seemed somewhat disinterested in you, leaving you to the guest chambers you would eventually be moving out of in favor for his bed. Your first week on Giedi Prime was another of courtship, though this time in the ways of his people, and you were honored to witness his fighting prowess in that arena beneath that strange sun. You dined with him and his uncle the Baron Vladimir, a large and unpleasant man, one you could tell your husband-to-be felt no real love towards. Feyd-Rautha simply enjoyed that he would one day take the Baron’s place, and when Vladimir commented on your figure one evening, you saw the way Feyd’s jaw tensed. Perhaps he did want you as his wife, after all.

Another strange Harkonnen custom revealed itself to you toward the end of that week, when a doctor entered your chambers and informed you that your purity was to be inspected.

“My apologies, but…what?” You asked, confused. You had never heard of such a thing. Surely he couldn’t possibly mean what you thought he meant…?

“We must ensure that none other than the na-Baron have had you, milady.” The man explained. You noticed he sported a gray sash around his middle, and you assumed it was some sort of uniform. “It must be guaranteed that you are untouched, and that the heir you provide will be the na-Baron’s and no one else’s.”

You felt your face grow warm with anger and embarrassment. “Is my word not enough?”

“I’m afraid this is tradition, milady.” He stared at you with intense, beady eyes. “The na-Baron was eager to honor the customs of your House. You do not want him to think you are refusing those of House Harkonnen, do you?”

No, you did not. The last thing you wanted was to anger Feyd-Rautha and potentially drive your future husband even further away from you. You did not want to seem rude, nor did you want to cause a fuss…and you had been examined by doctors before, though perhaps not for this exact reason. You could withstand a few moments of awkward discomfort, you reasoned, if it meant avoiding an unhappy marriage.

“You do not have any instruments,” you noted.

The doctor smiled, revealing the black teeth of the Harkonnens. “Medical instruments are not necessary for this, milady. Please, move to the bed so that I may examine you.”

You rose from your place at the simple table in the center of the room, abandoning your half-eaten breakfast. As you turned, you felt the doctor’s eyes watching you a chill prickled the back of your neck. You needed to relax, you told yourself; if you were expected to produce an heir, there would be many more invasive check ups far stranger than this. You had seen your mother pregnant with your younger siblings, and had heard her speaking with the midwives and Bene Gesserit woman who stalked the halls of the palace back home. Perhaps this was how you could ease yourself into all of that.

When you turned to face the doctor once more, you were relieved to see him standing just as you had left him. His smile unsettled you, but then so did most Harkonnen features, you realized as you sat on the edge of the bed.

“Lay back and relax, milady.” He said, approaching you. “This won’t take but a moment.”

-0-

To your surprise, Feyd-Rautha joined you for lunch that day. A servant had been sent ahead to inform you that the na-Baron would be arriving to your chambers shortly, but when he did, you insisted on eating elsewhere. The encounter with the doctor had done more than simply unsettle you—it had rattled your nerves, leaving you feeling angry and confused. Though the man was long gone, you had no desire to remain in that room any longer than you absolutely had to, and lunch could not come early enough.

The na-Baron led you to his own chambers and food was served for you there, at a well-sized table just as austere as the rest of the building’s furniture and decor. He watched as you picked at your food, pushing it around on your plate but hardly eating any, and he took the opportunity to attempt conversation.

“We will be wed soon,” he said.

You wanted to roll your eyes. You were in no mood for small talk, but remembered who exactly you were dealing with and stifled a sigh. “Yes, na-Baron, we will.”

He smirked. “I look forward to the consummation, milady.”

You felt bile rising in your throat. The thought of anyone touching you again at the moment made you sick and angry, and you hated him for his people’s customs.

Feyd-Rautha tilted his head as he looked at you. “Do you not?”

“I am sure it will be everything we hope for and more,” you grumbled, looking down at your plate.

“It is unavoidable,” he growled. “We must produce an heir.”

“And we will!” You snapped, glaring up at him. “And you will be happy to hear that your doctor’s examination went as expected, my lord.”

The venom in your words stunned him almost as much as the words themselves. If Feyd weren’t so busy working through what exactly you had just said, he may have been tempted to bend you over that table just to show you how hard you made him, wedding night be damned…but there were other matters at hand now.

“Doctor?” He asked, eye twitching as his brow furrowed in thought.

“Yes, the one who confirmed that I am, in fact, pure,” you spat, voice laced with pure malice now.

You saw what could only be anger bubbling inside of him as he straightened his shoulders. “How exactly was this achieved?”

“By—by the usual means, I presume,” you said, quickly growing afraid of Feyd-Rautha’s infamous temper should it make an appearance. “He…confirmed that I am…that I have never…”

The na-Baron stood suddenly, knocking in the table in his haste. “Describe him to me.”

“I-I don’t know, he was a doctor!” You stammered. “He looked like every other Harkonnen, I don’t know—“

“What did he wear?”

“A-all black, like everyone here…a sash, a gray sash, around his waist, and he had no instruments—“

“What?” Feyd-Rautha roared, fists slamming down onto the table.

You jumped at the sudden outburst, staring in confusion as he stood. "I apologize if I've upset you, I don't understand why you--"

"Come." he hissed, grabbing your arm roughly and hauling you out of your seat.

You shrieked in surprise, stumbling to keep up as he dragged you out of the room and down the corridor. "Na-Baron, what is the meaning of this?!"

You received no answer. Feyd-Rautha was too angry to speak, shoulders hunched and full of violent tension as he stomped down the halls. Servants and Harkonnen nobles alike scattered upon seeing him, and as you twisted your head to look back at them, you saw them whispering and looking after you with pity on their faces.

"Feyd-Rautha, this is absurd!" you protested.

He came to a halt in front of a door. Though the wait for it to slide open only took a few moments, it felt like agony, and you had nowhere to look aside from the na-Baron's heaving form. You had never seen a person so angry before, so utterly enraged that he was practically incoherent. His silence was frightening, as when the door finally opened, you felt relieved...until he grabbed you once more and brought you inside with him.

The room was full of Harkonnen men, and as they looked to the door in surprise, you realized that you had entered some sort of lounge. You recognized their uniforms as military, and at the sight of their na-Baron, they all immediately stood, saluting him and bowing their heads.

"Which one?" Feyd-Rautha hissed, pulling you to stand at his side.

"What?" you asked, still confused by this entire operation.

"Which man?" he asked, voice strained as if he were holding himself back.

As you looked around at the Harkonnens, whose faces were stoic but whose eyes were frightened, you realized what your almost-husband was asking of you. It was difficult to tell them apart--their pale faces blended into one, their uniforms all nearly identical save for subtle distinctions of rank. Then, an idea; the gray sash you remembered, surely the doctor still wore it? If he were there in the room with you, perhaps you could--

Yes.

There he was.

You recognized his face and your lips pressed into a thin line. Feyd-Rautha, whose eyes had been glued to you, watching your every tiny, minute move, noticed the way your eyes lingered. His lip curled into a sneer as he turned to look at the man, whose comrades had all immediately stepped away, leaving him alone and exposed.

"Captain." the na-Baron's voice was dangerous. It was terrifying. You had never heard another human make a sound so guttural, so animalistic, and yet still manage to form it into a recognizable word.

As the man took a panicked step backwards, Feyd-Rautha stalked toward him. Your future husband smoothly pulled a long knife from a hilt on someone's hip as he passed them by, and you could only stare as the captain was brutalized.

You had never seen such agony.

When Feyd-Rautha was finished with him and the room had finally quieted after the screams died out, he stood from the fresh corpse and turned to you, holding a weapon now dripping with dark blood as he faced you.

"For you," he said simply, sincerely, bowing his head yet never breaking eye contact.

You stared. You had no idea how to react upon witnessing such a barbaric act, one that was sure to play out in your nightmares for weeks to come. When you felt panic rising in your chest you forced it down, and mustered all of the courage you possibly could to say, "Thank you, my lord," and bow your head in return.

He seemed satisfied with this as the knife clattered to the floor and he strode forward to you. "Let us leave."

You agreed wholeheartedly, following him and leaving the other soldiers to collect the pieces of their captain, now strewn across the lounge. Feyd-Rautha held your arm once more as he led you down the corridor, though this time, he was far more gentle. Something had been released from within him, his bloodlust sated and his anger quelled for the moment, and as the reality of what you had just witnessed him do crashed down around you, you stumbled to a halt and doubled over.

"Milady?" he asked, confused, before he turned to see you holding a hand over your mouth as you desperately tried not to be sick. His hands gripped your elbows as he faced you, undeterred by your retching. "What is this? He is dead, there is nothing to--"

"You killed him!" you choked out as you gasped for air, the bile in your throat still threatening to come up.

"Yes," he said, head tilted as he looked at you. "Of course I did. For you, as a gift." Then he paused, thinking. "...Was there another? An assistant?"

"No!" you managed to swallow down the last of the bile, throat burning as you grasped your sweat-slick forehead with your palm. "No, there was only him, but--why would you do such a thing?"

Now he was truly bewildered. "Why wouldn't I kill the animal whose hands touched you before mine?"

"Because...I..." you huffed, glaring at him. "What is going on? What is all of this, over a custom of your people? I did not enjoy his examination by any means, but I am doing everything in my power to accept the customs of House Harkonnen with grace and dignity no matter how awful they are and this entire spectacle has now made that very difficult, na-Baron!"

"House Harkonnen does not practice such a thing," he sneered, eyes angry once more.

Your shoulders dropped in horror. "...Excuse me?"

"That man should never have been within a thousand lengths of you."

"...Oh..." the panic had returned, but now, it felt much worse, and your voice sounded impossibly small. You lowered your hand to your lips, chewing your nail in agitation.

"Do you understand?" Feyd-Rautha asked, still holding your elbows.

"...Yes, I'm afraid I do..."

He leaned in, his forehead meeting yours as he still stared at your eyes. You found his to be a deep, dark blue, an abyss that threatened to swallow you up. But right now, you wouldn't mind such a thing, if it meant you could hide away from the world forever.

"No one will every lay a hand on you." he growled. "No one but me."

"...You killed him for me," you whispered.

"I did."

"You avenged me...yet you did not proclaim your reason in front of those other men?"

"I do not need a reason to take a life," he barked a laugh.

You just nodded.

"And I would not humiliate my wife in such a manner." he straightened once more, letting go of your elbows and offering you his arm once more.

"Thank you," you said as you took it and began walking.

"It does not matter to me if you another man has had you before." he said, staring forward. "I know the children you will bear will be mine."

He said it with an arrogance that may have annoyed you had the situation been different. Now, it was a comfort that he had such a big ego.

"That is correct, na-Baron," you said, sighing in relief. At least the whole ordeal was over now, and you doubted anyone would be foolish enough to cross your path now that one man had already been publicly eviscerated.

"Call me Feyd."

"Thank you," you glanced up at him with a small smile. "Thank you, Feyd."

[violetarks]

third year! bakugou katsuki thinks it's pathetic how everyone tries to ask you to be their valentine while you stand absolutely awkwardly and oblivious to their advances.

he rolls his eyes, scoffing at how you tilt your head and ask 'what do you mean?' when a new second-year tries to confess through a heartfelt letter a week before valentines day. he's sitting in the cafeteria, a few tables away from you where you stand with your tray. his friends catch his line of sight and begin to watch too as you awkwardly take the letter and mention how it's your favourite colour, what a coincidence.

"man, poor y/n." kaminari sighs, "been getting bombarded with valentine's day proposals."

"acting like you werent one last year." sero snickers, elbowing the blonde, who replies with 'shut up!'.

"y/n, todoroki and momo have to be the most popular third years. i saw todoroki carrying a fruit arrangement yesterday with 'be my valentine' on some flags." mina states, drinking her orange juice.

jirou retorts, poking her food, "did you see y/n's shoe locker when they opened it? they were basically drowning in all those letters. and their desk was full of teddy bears and hearts and flowers."

"yaoyorozu told me that she felt so bad because she rejected someone who choreographed a flash mob for her." kirishima inputs, "but seriously, so many people have tried getting with y/n, it's insane."

katsuki only rolls his eyes again as you thank the person, who runs away giddily. you're so uninterested in the person that you just pocket it in your blazer for later. katsuki chuckles at the action before returning to his food.

he thinks it's so funny that everyone is fawning over you. he understood todoroki and yaoyorozu, they've been popular since day one. but you? what did anyone see in you?

"hey, bakugou, are you alright?" you ask, standing in front of him on the porch of the dormitory. it's now five days later and he blinks himself back to reality and swallows the lump in his throat. "you were kinda' just staring at me and that girl just then..."

it's true, he was. a first year, some lovesick teen girl, came to confess to you just then. you hold some chocolates in your hand and a bouquet of roses in another. your third this week, he tallies.

"i—i wasn't." he stammers, looking away. he was leaning against the pillar, watching you as he took in some fresh air. it was pure coincidence, he says. "what... did you tell 'em?"

"i felt a bit sorry, she cried a little when i said i'm not a fan of this kind of chocolate." you express, showing him the box. katsuki smirks. you were so blunt. "i still accepted it though, to make her feel better. i don't even know her, though."

"strange." he responds, staring at you, "so what now then?"

"do you want it?"

"i don't want your fucking confession candy." he scoffs, furrowed brows. he's irritated at the offer and you just tuck the chocolates underneath your arm. "why'd you say 'no'?"

"i... don't know her." you state as if it was obvious. he blinks and looks away. "i dunno', i've been getting asked a lot recently."

"that so?" it's so pathetic, how anyone would trip and fall at your feet at the slight chance to share valentine's day with you. he could think of a thousand things better to do tomorrow than spend it with you—

"how come you haven't asked me yet?" you inquire, pursing your lips, "to be your valentine?"

"hah?" he huffs out, making the most outraged expression on his face, "what the hell did you just say to me?"

you sigh, opening the entrance door with your new gifts, "nevermind."

he stares at you as you leave him alone on the porch. questions swirl in his mind, making him think about you even more. is this how you made so many admirers? you just... made them think about you? you were absolutely crazy.

that's got to me the most pathetic thing about valentine's day, right?

wrong.

katsuki annoyedly drops the chocolates that he knows for sure you love. and as he passes the flower section, oh god, the amount of time he spent trying to figure out which ones were the perfect ones. the cashier looks at him knowingly, wishing him 'goof luck' on his endeavour. katsuki scoffs and tells them to shut his mouth.

what's pathetic is that katsuki readies himself for asking you. now that he's got confirmation that you were expecting him to, he would do it. he is standing in front of your dorm door, holding the flowers and chocolates and teddy bear in his arms. he knows you have hundreds in your room right now, but... he's pathetic.

when his hand goes up to knock on your door, the elevator reaches the floor and opens to reveal you in the sports uniform.

you walk up, typing on your phone when you look up to your dorm to see him. "oh, hey."

"hey." he mumbles, trying his best to hide the presents behind his back, "went on a run?"

"no, quirk training, actually." you respond, unlockong your dorm. you walk in and turn your head. "did you need to talk to me?"

"well... i—"

"are those for valentine's day?" you point to the flowers that are badly hiden behind him.

katsuki grunts, finally revealing them, "y—yeah... i don't know how to do this."

"come in." you say, inviting him into your dorm. he nervously enters and closes the door behind him. you sit at our desk, leg over your knee, almost like you're inspecting him thoroughly. "so, who is it for?"

he stops. "huh?"

"i mean, who are you asking?" you mumble out. he doesn't know what to say. do you not remember asking him to ask you yesterday? "you're looking for advice, aren't you?"

suddenly, he's on the fire. he's in the position that he made fun of those other people for being in. and it fucking sucks.

it takes all his courage to sigh out, "no... no, you idiot. i'm asking you."

"wha—? me?" you point at yourself.

"yes! here!" he practically shoves them into your hands and steps away away. "i... want you to be my valentine tomorrow. please."

his harsh tone makes you rethink his statement. but katsuki sees a smile dawn on your face regardless, something the others who have asked you haven't seen.

"thank you, bakugou. i love them."

he knows damn well you do.

"i'd be happy to be your valentine." you confirm, standing up and placing the flowers on your desk. you put the chocolates and teddy on your bed, smiling the whole time. he gulps in anticipation, despite you already saying 'yes'. "thank you, truly. it's perfect."

katsuki clears his throat, hands in his pockets and he looks away, "'s nothin'."

you chuckle and step towards him, hand on his shoulder as you give him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"whatever you say. where did you wann' go tomorrow?"

he thinks it's pathetic how on valentine's day, you drag him to all the couple stalls and events, and even do a hand-reading (katsuki lets out a sigh of relief when they said that you two are quite the perfect match), but when it's with you, it's a lot less embarrassing to do it. in fact, he'd relive this whole day again if he could.

what's pathetic is how all those people thought they could have this time with you, when all you ever wanted was bakugou katsuki himself.

[futureplayboibunnie]

Aphrodesiacs PT. 5

Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader

You and Miguel were bitten by the same spider….what could possibly happen?

bro i hit 600 followers three days ago and now i’m at 1,000? wtf thats insane i love u.

NSFW AS ALWAYS 18+

It was months since you saw Miguel.

Well, thats what it felt like. In reality it was just 3 days.

Honesty was never a big deal with you, but when you promised Miguel you’d kill him the next time you saw him: you felt it in every cell to be true. It was delusion kicking into mass hysteria at this point. What was startling though and quite frankly alarming was that Miguel believed you.

You were akin to that of a bloodied and mauled rabid dog when he saw you last, he had never seen your face look so ashen and convincing. Normally, when you were away from him, your cheeks were stained pink as you enertained whoever you were talking to, you were happy. He was taking that away from you and he was beginning to feel slivers of guilt make home in his chest. So he did what he had to.

You were stood looking like an idiot in your apartment, fiddling with your interdimentional watch, slapping it and messing about with it to the point you were sure you were breaking it further. That was until a blaring orange screen showed up: Access Denied. You ogled at the glitchy words like a shell shocked fool, that look soon dissipated into an indignant frown. Miguel…again. Of course.

You threw the object closest to you at the wall, a large gaping crack left in the wall due to sheer force of your poisonous indifference. You sighed heavily as a disgruntled sound fell from your throat. That dick was cutting you off entirely, your needed to get back in the lab, all of the materials you lacked here were there.

You didn’t learn your lesson.

You wanted to see him.

You said you’d kill him if you did and right now you were contemplating it.

But he put his foot down and pushed you out, forcing you away which was counterproductive as it made you want to see him more. You groaned in frustration: what the fuck is wrong with you? It was like you were all for yet going against every intuition and feeling in your body, you wanted one thing and felt another and all it did was leave you bewildered mess in heat.

How could you contact him?

No, you definitely shouldn’t.

You’d just cause more problems relating to this.

But you needed answers.

Fuck.

An embittered look crept on your face as your finger hovered over the button that called Lyla. If you couldn’t contact Miguel…you’d just use Lyla and your incredible convincing skills. You pressed it and she popped up looking happy and over her head as usual.

“If this is about your restriction-“ She sighed, rolling her eyes in the process.

“Well yes. I need to talk to Miguel about it.” You winced, not entirely believing yourself and she just raised an eyebrow at you.

“Hm.” She muttered under her breath. “You’ve definitely talked enough recently.”

“Look. I know Miguel told you he didn’t want to see me at all and I get it, hell, I’m trying to get through it too. But he needs to answer some questions I have a right to know.” You raked a hand over your exhaused face and breathed out heavily as you met her look. “I just need to speak to him, I don’t need to see him. Fuck, I don’t want to see him because I’d kick his teeth in. Maybe just give me his phone number or something?” You cringed internally as you said it. No one was close with Miguel let alone had his phone number, Lyla looked like she saw a ghost.

“Like as in calling him? On the phone? Old fashioned? God, humans are so strange. All this tech and you want to call him on the…phone?” The mention of something so menial such as a phone made Lyla retch back in digust and all you could do is look at her unimpressed at her overreaction. “I mean I guess you aren’t actually near each other…and I love scaring Miguel shitless so…yeah okay.”’ She brightened up at the idea or irritating Miguel, she showed an orange screen of a smattering of numbers. Your face cleared of cloudiness as she showed it on screen. “Be quickkkkk. I’m leaving in 10 seconds.” She giggled. You haphazardly lunged to your desk to find a sticky note to write the numbers on, you almosr fell to the goddamn floor.

“5, 4, 3…” Lyla taunted and you finally grabbed a pen and wrote the numbers down on a note.

“Good. Now go away.” You mumbled breathlessly.

“You’re just like Miguel.” She then disappeared to where she came from. You pondered the words she left ungracefully hanging in the air, the thought made you shiver grotesquely.

You clutched onto the sticky note with those fated numbers on it and you honestly felt like a teenager who finally got her crushes number. Pacing around the room seemed like a great option. Your feet went wild, staring into space then back at the numbers. Okay, okay. Just call him. Give him a piece of your mind. Self soothing didn’t work. Just do it, just call him. This is a healthy way of communicating since you couldn’t just show up and speak to him. Adrenaline and fear pumped your veins raw as you put his number into your phone. You raised your phone to your ear and heard the defeaning and soul eating dial.

-

Miguel was at home for once, just trying to occupy himself in an environment that didn’t have eyes poring all over him and every move he made. He was trying to get some sleep after all the agitation you put him through, but he was failing terribly, again.

It felt like having you was the only thing he was put on this Earth for. His bare chest tightened at the thought. All that was sketched onto in his peripheral was that fucking picture. You looked like a wet dream. Fuck, you were just perfect. Your pussy was begging to be pounded and he couldn’t wait until-

His phone lit up the black of his nightstand.

Miguel opened his eyes as he saw the screen brighten and the blaring of a ringtone he’s long forgotten. He was astonished even though his eyes were seeped in tiredness. This was so odd. He barely ever used his phone, even for hookups, he’d fuck them and then ditch the number. Miguel stared at the white of the screen and the black outside, only lit by a few orange streetlamps that seemed to creep in through his blinds. He groaned as he grabbed his phone and stared at it, it was an unknown number, is this was a cold caller he would rip their head off with his teeth and spit it out into a gutter.

Miguel rubbed his eyes and answered, holding the phone to his ear. “Hello?” He said in a strained, raspy voice- it wasn’t quite obvious that he was trying to sleep.

You felt yourself gush when you heard his voice, your mouth popped open into a gape, you winced but kept a normal voice. “Miguel?”

His eyes glazed open wide as he heard your voice, what the fuck? How did you get his number? Why were you doing this? A wild amount of questions shot through his head but he was confused and didn’t know how to handle it, the majority of him was exhausted and seething. He leaned up and spoke. “Y/N?” He attempted to sound calm but he wasn’t convincing. “How did you find-? Whatever. Don’t call me. Ever. Again.” He gritted through clenched teeth.

“Lyla.” You said in a clipped tone.

Of fucking course.

“Stop using your damn power to fawn over me and restrict me from using the damn watch you gave me.” You were chafed you even had to say this.

Miguel sat on the edge of his bed and plaved his feet on the cold marble, his elbows dug into the skin of his thighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out the signature annoyed huff. “You know exactly why I had to do that.”

You paused and bit your lip, pacing around your room, reminding yourself that you’re barely even clothed right now. Your tank top and sleep shorts barely covered anything and you were still feeling searing hot by his voice alone.

“Stop… Just stop.” It was just above a whimper and Miguel’s ears pricked up the sound. Fuck, your voice was like velvet. “Miguel…we were honest with each other once before. We can do it again.” You breathed against the phone and it was taking everything in him to not moan at the pretty sound. “We shouldn’t be close to each other. I fucking know but…are you shutting me out of the society completely?” Your lip quivered at the mere idea.

Miguel was taken aback. He really didn’t know what to say or do about this now. Being honest or lying didn’t seem to do him any favours at this point. “Don’t ask me that. Please…just don’t.” His voice was so close to breaking but he was dampened by such a pure need for you it was distracting as fucking always.

You both sat in silence, hearing each other’s soft sweet breath on the line. Waiting for the other to break such a tense yet natural thing. Miguel could hear you lick your lips, every shift of that tongue and pretty mouth.

“Do you still want me?” You said flatly, so damn nonchalant like you weren’t even realising what you were talking about.

Miguel was left speechless for a solid 60 seconds. Are you dumb? He wanted just leave and kick your door down, rip all your clothes off and not let you leave for an entire weekend. He would mark every inch of your skin up to show everyone who you belonged to, he wouldn’t be soft at all and you would fucking love it. He’d pump you full of his cum.

“That’s a very stupid question.” He grunted huskily. His talons dug into the sides of his mattress as he said it. You heard the way he was holding back and it made you that much more desperate.

“You told me that it was manageable. How are you managing Miguel?” It was like you were taunting him, waiting for a big fat massive ‘I told you so.’

“I’m finding my own ways of coping.” He stipulated, fingers trembling into the mattress at your words. His dick was rock hard in his boxers at just hearing you breathe against the phone. He felt pre-cum leak from his tip.

“Hm. Like just so happening to know that I take nudes of myself and send them to my fuckbuddies.” You hummed, catching him out with that teasing cock stimulating voice of yours. Miguel swallowed thickly as you called him out.

“It’s 2099 here. Fuckbuddies aren’t taboo, sending nudes isn’t either.” He didn’t directly answer the question, he wrapped it up in a lie that it was normal and he just guessed that you did not that he literally violated your privacy.

“Then why do you not want me to send them anymore.” You whispered on the phone and the sensation of hearing such a honeyed voice made him shudder. Miguel ran his hand through his hair, exasperated but voice calm.

“Because it should be me seeing you like that. Only me.” He avowed in an unexpected admission. Your eyes fluttered shut as you heard it, exactly what he wanted to hear. You paused and your silence scared him.

“Did you like it?” You asked sweetly and he thought he could’ve came right then and there. He could just…slip his hand down and touch himself as you talked. God, he could. He wanted to so bad.

“You have no idea.” He rasped out and you tried to gulp down your arousal, instead it arose out in words.

“Miguel, I get wet just listening to you talk.” You said softly, not even ashamed anymore.

“Whenever you say my name I think my dick wants to snap in half.”

“We shouldn’t be doing this then.” He could feel you smiling lazily, your tone deceptive and teasing. You didn’t want to stop at all.

“Yeah we really shouldn’t.” Miguel teased back, his voice low and inherently dishonest.

“I won’t call you again then.” You smiled sweetly, eyes half lidded and flirty. “Let’s just say that this was… a little moment of weakness between us. We can go back to avoiding each other later.”

“I wonder how we’ll manage.”

“You better get rid of my restriction on my watch too.”

-

yoooo. I’m not gonna be able to post anything in the next week bc I’m on holiday and I probs won’t have wifi. I’m still writing chapters I just dk when I’m gonna be able to post it. I know i edge yall but this specifically isn’t on purpose I swear forgive meeee.

-

taglist (giggles): @thel0velykey190 @scaleniusrm @drefear @imkikibtw @tbeanie3 @spxctorsslxt @saturnknows @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @mafer383 @i-feel-violated @crowleysthings @avatar-lover @l3laze @wyvernnest @rowboatweeb @schniti-is-in-the-house @defnot-bri @awkward-d3rs3-dramer @hasai69 @unnisumi @irongardenermaker @d1lf-loverrr @iamv1n @ro99se @nxrdamp @mrssabinecallas @jesmynsjoys @spiderman2099sgf @xiylio @leahnicole1219 @reine-sans @tallmanlover @neverlandlostchild @axerrri @frieschan @plzfeedmebread @rorel1a

[killinfate]

ty ty tyyy for feeding my mike schmidt heart with ur fics, hopefully you can make one where maybe his gf (kinda like there's obviously smth going on between them but they don't address it situation lmao) and she's in all the action at the end of the movie?? hope it makes sense lmao ly <333

yes ofc! sorry it’s taken me like a week to do this thank you for being patient!

WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?

MIKE SCHMIDT X FEM!READER

— NOTHING WAS PLATONIC BETWEEN YOU AND MIKE; THAT MUCH WAS TRUE.

“Abby?” You called out as you stood outside the Schmidt household, trying to peer into the textured glass window on the door to make out any figures.

Stepping back, you looked down at the doormat and knelt down, picking the corner up a little. You’d told Mike before that it was the most typical place to leave a door key but now you were thankful he didn’t listen to you for once.

You unlocked the door and opened it, stepping inside. “Abby?” You called out once more and silence followed seconds later. Abby wasn’t home which was strange, usually having a babysitter for company.

Before your mind could wonder much further, your gaze averted to the vest sprawled over the armrest of the couch. With a sigh you picked it up and read the label “security” patched into it.

“Mike.” You mumble, scolding his forgetfulness despite the fact he wasn’t here. As you looked down at it an idea struck your mind.

You might as well take a trip to the pizzeria and give it to him? Could be important.

Besides, when Mike told you about the strange occurrences at the pizzeria and didn’t care to elaborate, your curiosity got sparked.

Slipping on the security vest, you walked out the house (shutting and locking the door) before getting in your car and driving to the pizzeria.

This really had to happen on the worst night.

After parking in the desolate parking lot, your car, a police car and Mike’s car being the only ones there. The sight of the police car made you feel nervous and urged you to walk a little quicker into the pizzeria.

Walking through the entrance, you could hear voices and a groan of agony. Slowly you walked forwards, noticing a bloody Mike on the ground and a disturbing bunny costume looming over him.

“Mike.” Your voice was a whisper and you stepped back, your foot knocking into a fallen chair. The squeak attracted the attention of whoever wore the costume and Mike.

Mike looked up with pure terror in his eyes. God what were you doing here? Why now? He looked to William who began to turn around.

“No.” Mike murmured with gritted teeth as blood spurred out of his mouth slightly due to the harsh kicks he’d taken in the stomach. Despite his state, Mike was willing to protect you and reached out to try and grab William’s leg and pull him down.

William looked back, and with a harsh kick Mike was knocked out cold. You were frozen in place, not willing to leave the pizzeria without Mike despite how intimidated you felt.

“Hey!” You hear the voice of Abby yell and both your eyes and William’s eyes look to her. “Abby no!” You cry, knowing William would try going after her now. Without a second thought, you grabbed the fallen chair and swung it at the man. Immediate regret; he was charging at you with his knife in seconds.

A bullet pierced through his torso before he could reach you, stopping him just seconds before he reached you. In the heat of it all, you rushed over to Mike and tried helping him up with Abby. He became conscious, his eyes slowly opening and you looked to him.

“Hey.” You spoke softly. He was beaten and bruised and although feeling numb his hand reached for your face, his fingers lightly trailing over your cheek. You were his last thought before he slipped unconscious.

“You’re okay.” Mike whispers and you nod, smiling at him. “I’m okay.” You assure him. “Come on!” Abby brings the both of you back to reality as you help Mike up.

-

Mike was in hospital for multiple injures for a day or so and you and Abby stayed for it. The three of you were in the room, you sat at the chair beside the bed while Abby was sat at the desk in the corner of the room colouring.

“Abby, would it be okay if we could talk for a moment? Just me and her?” Mike asked of his sister, his voice hoarse. Abby looked between the two of you, a smile gracing her lips before she nodded and left the room for the moment.

You smile slightly as you watch her leave before Mike speaks up. “Why were you there?” He questioned. You looked down at your shoes for a moment. Mike wasn’t happy at all with the fact you’d come to the pizzeria but he wanted to know why.

“You forgot your vest, I wanted to bring it to you. Could’ve been important.” You say, looking up to him. Mike looks to you for a moment before smiling and chuckling softly.

“That’s it? My vest?” He says. His eyes avert to it as you wear it and his eyes come back to meet yours.

“Suits you.” Mike teases and you roll your eyes.

“Yeah I don’t think I’ll be getting a job there anytime soon.” You reply, standing up and sitting on the edge of the bed.

There’s a moment of silence, where you look to Mike and his hand reaches out for yours. You gently take his hand in your own and run your thumb across his knuckles.

“I was really scared for you, really scared.” Mike admitted, his face dropping as he remembered the feeling. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I don’t ever want to lose you, ever. I—“ Mike hesitates on his next words and your eyes look to him in anticipation.

“I love you.” He finally says. For a moment there’s silence and Mike immediately feels he’s screwed up, shutting his eyes tightly and retracting his hand from yours.

Too soon?

Before he can begin rambling apologies, he feels your lips on his forehead and his eyes open. You pull away and look to him, leaning down once more and planting two more kisses on his cheeks before finally kissing his lips.

It was a gentle and delicate kiss, nothing too strong or deep. You hold the kiss for a moment before pulling your lips away. His lips are parted slightly as you do, as if he’s still reliving the moment.

It isn’t long before your lips are back on his.

[gojos-thot-patrol]

nah because giving birth to sukuna’s son, a little baby boy who looks like him, and watching you love and adore the little bean with all your heart and soul; you sing and hum to the little bean, celebrate every accomplishment no matter how small it is (big burp? what a good boy! ate so much!), carrying him snuggly in your arms as you talk about every flower you spot in the gardens (even when he’s asleep). nicknaming your son your little miracle, your little twinkling star and sukuna understanding maybe it wasn’t him, an innocent child back then, but awful circumstances and the wrong people around him.

Nonny, your brain is so big, and so sexy, and so electric and AHH-

He wasn't sure at first when you got pregnant. He knew what his childhood was like, and the notion of bringing another person in this world was sickening because of it.

When his son was born, he was crushed. The small child looked exactly like Ryomen, just as Ryomen had looked like his father. It was a face that was historically unlovable, a face that was historically cursed. And it crushed him because he already wanted nothing but the best for him.

His worries were quickly brushed aside as he saw you reach for you son. The love in your eyes as you doted on him, smiling with pride at your strange creation. You already held so much more warmth than his mother ever did. Maybe this kid had a chance.

His son is like him in more than looks. His son is exactly like him in behavior too. Meaning he's not the easiest kid to handle. He's fussy in the night, demanding during the day. A tike in need of constant attention. Sukuna was sure you would grow to resent the rug rat, and in turn him for giving you the child.

Yeah, that never happened. You never raised an unloving hand to your child, you rarely even raised your voice. You treated him with the same love and care you always had. Your gentle sweetness never faded. It left Ryomen floored.

Because if you could forgive his son, assure him that "that's just how babies are!" And that it would never be your "little miracles" fault, then shit why didn't his mom ever forgive him? Why was it always his fault? He was just doing what babies do.

The realization that Ryomen wasn't actually a burden, just a small child that didn't ask to be born, and that his parents were actually the villian hits him like a truck. It went against everything he had ever been taught, but it made such clear sense. In a weird way it felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. He didn't have to carry around the guilt anymore.

Slowly, Ryomen learns to heal his trauma while raising his own son. A son that he hopes to one day be a better man than he ever was. A son who knows love, and caring. With a mother who never faltered in her adoration of her family.

Ryomen was worried a child would ruin what you two had built, but in reality the baby only made everything stronger. He lived and cherished his family, more than he'd ever be able to express. He's so grateful for his son, his son who helped him in ways he'd never understand, that he's not even entirely opposed to the idea when you suggest child number two.

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Your stories have definitely scratched that Astarion itch that I've had since I started the game!

One thing that's diffently not sat right with me at the end of the game, is how tav and the gang don't run after astarion after he loses his immunity to the sun. I would imagine that if the player character was romantically involved with the guy they would atleast try to shield or comfort the poor guy. A short drabble on that would be awesome!

That's so sad, I heard that's what happens 😭😭 I'm in act 3 and haven't had to see it for myself yet so yes, let's do some preemptive therapy there! And just warning since I haven't beaten the game yet I'm sure this will be inaccurate as fuck, but also with spoilers somehow ~

~

It was an exhilarating feeling, to win against all odds. One that Astarion had never been confident he would experience. It felt good, final. The official beginning of his new free life, even if it was bittersweet.

This was the bitter part, the end of his illithid protection. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, and the burn was already starting. He was being an idiot, standing there with the rest of you like he belonged, waiting for the last possible second before he had to scuttle down in the darkness. But he wanted to see this out. Hadn't he earned that right?

According to the laws of reality, no. No he hadn't, because you had barely opened your mouth before the pain started to overwhelm him. The others would be able to hear it, the sickening sound of his skin crackling.

He was out of time. But before he could make a break for it, you happened. Astarion had been a little preoccupied with his impending doom to pay close attention to what you had been mumbling. But then sudden blackness was blanketing above your heads, opaque enough to make it as dark as night.

Astarion's eyes widened as the pain subsided, surprised beyond belief.

You were looking at him with concern in your eyes, gesturing to the think cloud of darkness above your head, "Will this be dark enough? Can it still get through?"

Astarion stared at you, momentarily confused on why you would do something like that. Before he remembered, oh. Yes. The extended care for his well-being was probably included in the whole love thing. Of course. Obviously.

That was definitely going to take some getting used to.

But the reasoning didn't stop an idiotic smile from blooming on his face.

You grinned back at him, somehow still managing to read his mind even without the tadpoles, "Did you really think I would forget about you?"

He had, but through no fault of your own. One of these days he was going to actually remember that he was worth the effort to keep alive.

"Thank you darling," Astarion said, ignoring the quested as he waltzed up to you. He grabbed your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to kiss, "Just what would I do without you?"

"Speaking of," You turned to the Emperor, a question in your eyes as you vaguely waved upward, "Is there anything we can do about this particular problem?"

"The astral tadpole is still-"

"I'll pass on that, thank you very much," Astarion interrupted, cringing at the very thought of willingly letting another worm into his brain, "But I appreciate the thought."

There were worse things than living his life in darkness. And Astarion was counting becoming a mind flayer in the top three.

He watched, participated even in everyone's final goodbyes, always eyeing you at of the corner of his eye. It's not that he thought you would leave after you both declared your eternal love for each other, but... the two of you hadn't exactly talked about the specifics of the future either.

But that didn't stop you from leaving together. Astarion hadn't expected you to keep the dark cloud above his head as you walked the streets, startling nearly every passerby. But hells, the heroes of Baldur's gate had earned the right to a little strangeness.

You both had decided on going to the nearest, most windowless inn that you could find. Astarion wanted nothing more than to scrub the brain viscera from his skin and sleep for three days. Preferably with you in his arms.

But before all that... he had to know something.

The question was out of him as soon as you both were behind closed doors, "So what happens next to the great hero of Baldur's Gate? I'm sure you have something in mind."

He was just praying those future plans still involved him.

You blinked at him, head cocked like he was asking a silly question, "We go and find you a cure so you can walk in the sun again of course. What else would we do?"

That took Astarion aback, "I-Do you think that's really possible?"

"Well," You started, counting off on your fingers, "We know that illithid powers can do it. As well as devil contacts and ritualistic demon sacrifices. If that's all possible then that means there has to be something else on the other end of the spectrum, right?"

Astarion didn't exactly share your blind confidence. But you did have a point. The two of you had managed so many impossible feats in such a short amount of time. What was one more?

"I suppose there's a chance," Astarion said, hope fluttering in his chest with every word, "And if there is a chance no matter how small, I'm going to take it. But..."

He didn't want to ask, but he needed to know, "Are you sure this is what you want? I would... understand if you wanted to go your own way."

In all honesty, Astarion would not understand. He'd be absolutely furious. Especially after everything you'd been through. This was more of a confirmation for his waning self-confidence than anything else, versus a sincere to desire to let you go your own way. He had no intention of letting you go, not if he could help it.

But his near certainty in your feelings was the only thing that gave him the confidence to ask the question in the first place. And you did not disappoint.

"No, this is what I want," You insisted, reaching out to take his hand in yours, "You're what I want."

That was exactly what Astarion needed to hear. He used your joined hands to tug you closer, face to face.

"Good, because as selfless as I am, I really did not want to let you go," Astarion smiled, leaning in to lightly press a kiss to your lips, "I hope you realize that my love has made me a tad bit obsessed with you my dear."

"I'm sure it's no worse than me," You sighed, resting your forehead against his own, "You've really ruined me for anyone else haven't you?"

Astarion grinned, leaning in for another kiss. He had every intention of making it stay that way, for as long as you would have him.

[yanderestarangel]

☆𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐁 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ♡

TW: Yandere themes, manipulation, daddy issues lightly considered, rough sex, non con, dub con, Daddykink, manipulation,age gap, reader is of legal age, nsfw, smut, blood, death citation, bites, bloodkink, Dark!Miguel O'Hara, vaginal sex, creampie, AFAB READER, Pet names, DILF! Miguel O'Hara.

You really didn't know how you ended up in that situation, your life turned upside down overnight.

You were a normal person, you had a best friend, a monotonous and routine life, always doing the same things over and over, repeating the days every week or month, but you liked it, it was your pattern. until Miguel O'Hara came into your life.

Miguel met you through an unfortunate coincidence, he was the father of Briella, the little girl you were hired to take care of and give tutoring in literature and grammar after college classes, you accepted because you needed money and enjoyed teaching the little girl but I had never seen her father's face, Miguel always left early for work which no one knew exactly what it was, he always tried to be punctual, not wanting to leave his daughter in your hands more than necessary so as not to bother you, but he had been late that day, and that's when it all started.

You taught Briella peacefully, a few books spread across the white marble table while you recited some tale by 'Edgar Allan Poe' requested by Briella herself, Miguel was an hour late that day, having been trapped on a mission in the Spider Society, fighting against another anomaly, but it took off running and throwing red webs home quickly.

Miguel composed himself as he entered the house, soon encountering you, your aura light and angelic even, your features, your body covered by the soft fabrics of your clothes, the world of O'Hara stopped there, he felt the heat in his chest, such warmth that he had not known that his Briella's mother and his late wife had died, but now you were there, before him, like a graceful and beautiful angel.

You could have sworn you saw two red hearts in the older man's irises, and it was strangely disturbing, Miguel's lower lip trembled with anticipation and desire, a desire to make you his, physically and emotionally, body and soul, every particle and The atom of his being, wholly O'Hara's, was his new life goal and he would do anything to get what he wanted.

You two spoke quickly and he apologized, trying to keep his composure and not do anything stupid in front of his daughter or scare you, but from that day on, your monotonous life wasn't so monotonous anymore, you felt someone watching over you, someone was around, you could feel it and it was awful.

Miguel also strangely increased the time you were supposed to teach Briella, the problem is that every time you went, the little girl wasn't there but her father, Miguel, always with a warm smile but masked by something darker, something that slowly surface of the "Good single dad" facade, and soon you fell into his Perfect facade, to your bad luck.

Miguel started giving you very expensive gifts or extra money, even if you denied it, he always said the same sentence.

"-Don't worry mi carinõ, that's nothing, you are an angel in my life and my daughter's." - Miguel would speak with a smile of white teeth and a little shaky as he watched your body and face.

𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒌

𝑴𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒍 𝑶'𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒌

𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒕𝒐𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒎𝒂𝒏

𝑨 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖&lt;3

Soon the manifestations of possession would start, mainly manipulation, he would talk like a "concerned father" because you are younger than him, but in reality he would just use some of his mental and family instability to bring you into the web of possession it, especially if you have Daddy issues.

He will love to know that.

He'll be everything you want him to be, he'll start taking care of you, calling you "My good boy/girl" every time you do something nice or warm to him and Briella, complimenting you on how you look, asking if you ate or remembering how important you are, even if they are Miguel's genuine concerns, he will also use this to manipulate you and keep you close, you are his after all, even if you don't know it yet.

Bonus: he would force you to call him "Daddy", "Papi", "Papito" or "Sir" as a form of respect (But he knew it was for his own satisfaction, as a title that marked that you were his to him do whatever he wanted, you were his to own and keep, you are the love of his life whether you like it or not.)

Miguel will also push any love interest out of his life, regardless of sex or gender, he is an influential man in the multiverse and powerful, both physically and in status.

He will manipulate you so much that you will find yourself locked in his mansion with a luxurious and comfortable room, with no access to the outside world, just him and Briella, Miguel will manipulate Briella into believing that you are going to be her new Dad/Mom, while smiling little girl believed tall mexican's lies.

"-Oh that was your boyfriend? I'm sorry dear/sweetheart, his muscles were no use after all."

-Miguel would speak with a malicious and psychotic smile with fangs dirty with human blood. You will never leave there and if you try Miguel will punish you severely, either with poison bites, paralyzing you for a few minutes.

Leaving sexual pheromones and making you writhe with pain and lust and you won't be able to touch yourself, with Miguel watching you with a malicious and cruel smile.

Or worst case scenario, fuck you mercilessly, he'll thrust his cock inside you without warning after lubricating it with a little saliva and his fingers, with all his strength, trapping your body underneath him easily, while you listened to the older man moan and growl words of possession as he felt his cock hit your uterus and rise in your womb, while Miguel growled.

"-You are... Fuck so tight... (Y/N) you should have just stayed quiet, why did you try to run away from me? Don't you like your Daddy Miguel anymore? Hm?" - Miguel would speak in a mocking tone as he struck harder, holding your hips and leaving painful marks on your flesh with the tip of his claws.

"-I'll fuck your fucking brains out if you keep being a shitty brat, just obey me and everything will be fine."

- Miguel would speak with a sadistic and cruel voice, while he played with your clitoris with strength and anger, while he continued to stick his dick in your tight pussy, a painful and delicious mixture, you couldn't take it anymore, it was the fifth orgasm of the night, but Miguel wasn't going to stop, he never was.

"-I would destroy everything for you and build everything again from the ashes if you asked me to, and you still say I don't love you?" - Miguel O'Hara would speak with a few tears of pleasure in his eyes as he came inside you, painting your pussy with hot, thick cum, biting your neck hard and leaving a painful trail of blood and vicious bites.

♡Some quotes from Yandere Miguel O'Hara♡:

"-I really don't think you should try to get rid of me. If you try again I swear I'll make them all suffer in front of you."

"I really would hate to hurt you but you don't give me any choice darling/dear."

"I finally found you. You are so silly aren't you? You really need a punishment."

"You can't run away from me my love. If you leave my side I swear I will kill anyone who tries to help you leave my side and I would kill myself in front of you."

"I adore you so much, I would literally rip my heart out and give it to you, kneel at your feet and kiss the ground you walk on."

[megistusdiary]

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 𝖊𝖓𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖌 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

dom!succubus yae miko x sub!fem reader

warnings: smut (mdni), wlw content, miko has claws/fangs, she's a bit obsessed with you + steals you at the end

contains: shibari, cunnilingus, pussy slapping, tribbing, orgasm denial, overstimulation

pt. 1 of the succubus au miniseries

word count: 2.0k

miko is the type of succubus to enjoy her prey to the fullest. once she has you ensnared in your very own dream, she holds nothing back. yet something about you taunts her.

each time she seeks you out, she just can't seem to settle on the right time to feed on your lust. she's been watching you for quite some time now. she's always rather finnicky with her food, taking her time to select the perfect prey. but there's something about you that has her curious.

she's usually the type to lure her pretty toys with a few wet dreams. soon enough, they're practically begging for something, anything, without even realizing it's her they want. it only takes her a few days to figure them out, really. once she gets what she needs, she discards her toys, thrown away to find the next docile little thing to sink her teeth into.

she's been watching you for a longer time than she usually wastes on humans. considering she's a succubus, she has the ability to walk in dreams, though she can also walk unnoticed (if she wishes) through your version of reality. miko follows you around, observing your day-to-day activities. she finds it monotonous, trying to find an angle to use to drag you to her.

slowly, she begins to pay more attention. rather than just watching, she starts to notice things about you. the little quirks only perceptive beings would spot. the way you tap your foot when you work, the way you bite the inside of your cheek, the little creases of your eyebrows when you're annoyed. it almost makes her sick how she can actually anticipate your actions before you do them.

miko walks through your life like a ghost alongside you. she's haunted by you, and she doesn't know why. she wants you all to herself. not just for the night, she wants to possess you entirely. she wants to figure out what makes you tick, and then she wants to strip it all away to make you into her perfect pet to please and feed on.

but another part of her, the strange, new, sensitive part, wants to keep you close to her for something she's never felt before. this... feeling is not possessive, no. this is as close to what humans call 'love' as a demon like her could manage, she thinks. she likes watching you laugh. the way your lips curl up in amusement at stupid jokes from your friends. your smile is infectious, and she thinks it cruel that she isn't the reason she sees you smile.

she itches to touch your skin, your hair, to run her fingers down your spine. she wants your body, yes, but she wants to keep you. maybe you could be her pretty little pet, cure her strange obsession for you so she can move on. she's tried before to forget about you, but she can't bring herself to.

yet, she wonders why she hasn't just taken care of all this yet. why hasn't she simply taken you? she never really needs to make her prey desperate for her. that's just all in good fun for bored succubi like her. it makes the chase all the more fun. so, why does she torment herself with watching you and never anything more?

sometimes she catches you at night, playing with yourself beneath your blankets. soon enough, all tuckered out from your little session, you fall asleep. she knows this is the prime moment, but she wants to draw it out subconsciously. it's nearing obsession the way she edges herself with you. her fingers itch to touch you, but she refrains, practically punishing herself.

but then it happens. a night when you've come home exhausted, which, albeit isn't a rare occurrence. something about you seems off tonight, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. you climb into bed, stripping yourself with one goal in mind, to which miko watches you eagerly.

she's almost disappointed when your session ends with you simply growing more frustrated, tossing the covers over yourself and curling up on your side. her tail stops moving, drooping without her even realizing as her brows furrow. how boring.

well, surely this was her cue?

the logical part of her brain tells her it's merely because your body would still be aroused, still prepared to orgasm.

her heart tells her it's because you were obviously upset, and you didn't even get the relief you desperately chased. poor little human, unable to find pleasure on her own.

she feels bad for you, sneaking into your little dreamworld and seeing the image of you curled up in your bed. she approaches you confidently, a little smirk on her lips as she drags her finger up your blanket-covered body, tapping the tip of your nose.

you wake up slowly, looking up at her with furrowed brows. "is this a dream?" you ask suddenly, and she laughs, turning to the side and covering her fangs with her palm.

"oh, aren't you adorable." she coos, pinching your cheek. she leans down, cupping your jaw and puffing your lips out. "you look so tired, little one." she glances off, her hand taking a more gentle touch than she would with any others.

she can see you eyeing her tail curiously as it sways, curling up behind her body. her thumb gently strokes your skin, and she smiles almost wickedly. "you're so cute, i could just eat you up..." her eyes trail down your blankets, falling on where your waist would be. "you're lucky i like my prey a little slutty." she pinches your cheek, giving you no time to react to her words. "you're practically dripping, i can smell it."

she yanks the blankets off, revealing the wet patch on your panties and your surprised little face. you can't even manage to hide it before she's pushing your thighs open wide with clawed hands. they dig into your skin, leaving little indentations in your thighs as she leans in. you swear her eyes glow in the darkness of your room, focusing on your panties.

her clawed fingers trace over your clothed cunt, teasingly scraping the sharp points over your clit, feeling you squirm from the light sensations. she laughs, leaning up and suddenly bringing her palm down over your pussy. it's a dull thud and a slight pain that makes you yelp, thighs struggling to close as she keeps a firm hold on one.

"so sensitive too. what a little treat, and all for me?" she slides her free hand up to your jaw, tilting your already glassy eyes up to hers. "all for me?" she repeats, lightly squeezing your jaw.

and, really, you're not quite sure what takes over you when you respond with a meek little, "yes, all for you." slightly muffled by her hold on your face. she pats your cheek, satisfied as she settles back down between your legs.

she rips your panties right off you, tossing them away haphazardly, grinning up with sharp fangs. she nips your thigh just to hear you gasp for her before she licks a slow, fat stripe up your cunt. her tongue is skilled as she circles your clit, teasing your sensitive nerves as you begin to squirm.

you just can't help it. she feels so good, and your hips move on their own, grinding on your tongue. and then, once more, she slaps your pussy. considering it's your bare flesh now, it stings more, and she delights in your whiny little cry for her.

"bad girl." she chastises. "keep still for me." she warns, biting your skin again before diving back in.

you do your best to stay still, trying not to move your hips, but when she slides her tongue into your dripping hole, your hips jump. she suddenly lets out an almost disappointed sigh, pulling away. your slick still coats her lips and part of her face as she stares down at you.

"no! please- please wanna-"

"you're a disobedient little thing." she tuts, ignoring you. "you're lucky i like little brats." she drags a hand up your jaw, booping your nose before summoning ropes in her hands. it all happens so fast, and suddenly, you find yourself completely tied up.

intricate red rope knots cover your body, keeping you all tied up in a way she has easy access to your pussy, but one where you can't move at all. you struggle against the ropes, whining at her and she grins. "what's the matter?"

"'m sorry!" you whimper and she shakes her head.

"aw, but this doesn't have to be a punishment, does it? it's not so bad, being all tied up for me. you're much cuter when i don't have to keep reminding you of the rules." she covers her smile with the back of her palm. she leans back down, eyeing your dripping pussy. "you're wet enough, i'd say."

she sits up, making you watch as she slowly, teasingly strips. she unties the delicate strings holding her outfit together, revealing her breasts first. she lets the fabric slide down her stomach before she pulls it away to reveal her bare body. she cups her own breasts, seeing your desperate gaze.

"wanna touch, please?" you ask her and she sighs, teasing her own nipples with a wicked grin.

"if you're a good girl, maybe i'll let you. that's something you have to earn." she answers, positioning herself over you. she spreads your thighs, her cunt hovering over yours. "now, be a good little toy, and stay very still while i use you."

she slides her pussy over yours, her clit rubbing against yours as you mewl loudly for her, already sensitive from being edged earlier. she laughs wickedly, grinding more firmly. her grip on your legs is harsh, but the pleasure from her rubbing against you is sending your mind reeling.

"ah, sweetheart- you're drenched. you feel so good." she muses, head falling forward as she uses you entirely for her own pleasure. she drinks up your pathetic mewls and whimpers.

"close, i'm close, please, please-" you begin to babble, tears forming in your eyes as you desperately beg for her.

"go on, cum for me like the little slutty human you are." her ears flick, the jewelry in them jingling as she uses your body.

she feels your release against her, making it even more slick. you sigh with relief, only to whimper and cry when she keeps going. she grabs your face, shutting your mouth. "i didn't get to cum yet, don't be selfish. besides, you were begging me just a minute ago to cum. i'm letting you cum as many times as i decide. isn't that so generous of me?" she nods your head for you, patting your cheek and continuing to grind against you.

once she's wrung two more orgasms from you, she's sat herself right onto your face, riding your tongue as her clawed hands destroy your pillows. she uses you like you're nothing more than a toy to her, grinding her clit on your nose and completely suffocating you.

all you can feel, smell, hear, see, and taste are her.

she coos at you, so condescending as she cums on your tongue. "drink it all up, it's all for you. so strange that such a filthy little thing like you can get me so worked up. ah, looking after you had me pent up for the longest time." she smiles down at you, untying the knots as you lay limply on the bed.

she cups your cheek, her heart skipping a beat when you nuzzle into her palm like a little kitten.

"oh, it's a shame you're so cute. i almost feel bad for what i'm about to do. almost." she pets your head, letting you fall asleep in your dream.

she sneaks back out into the real world, picking up your sleeping body, carrying you off to her dimension. perhaps you'd be an interesting pet for her, indeed.

after all, miko wasn't quite done with you yet. she just can't help it that she's the possessive type ♡

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

༉‧₊˚. 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 || 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

― pairing: sam winchester x plus size!reader

― summary: sam winchester was never comfortable with pda, but while on a hunt, sam is shaken with the harsh reality that he's needy, and the only person that can fix it was you.

― warnings: kissing, making out, dry humping, marking, teasing, needy sam winchester.

― wc: 1288

⋆ a/n: more old writing sigh, but i guess i can say i kind of like this one but i kinda didn't know a lot about sam's character when i wrote this because i was only in the earlier seasons then, but now since i've watched the show three times, i feel like i can say that i know his character like the back of my hand!

masterlist | AO3

You had no idea what was up with Sam that day, but he couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself. He wasn't usually a PDA type of person, opting to keep the kisses pg, meaning only cheek, temple, or forehead kisses. You had no problem with it, because if he wasn't comfortable with doing it out in the open or if he was afraid it would make him look unprofessional, you had no reason to try and push him to do anything he didn't want to.

When the affection happened in private, it just made it all the more special, both of your senses heightened and a lot more pleasurable when you two made love.

You never usually joined the brothers on hunts per Sam's request, only staying behind in the hotel room to offer some emotional support afterwards; but this time, you felt like going on an adventure. Dean was more than happy to humor you, but Sam was a bit more skeptical. He knew that you were your own person, that he truly had no say over what you did, so all the hunter asked was for you to stay close to him; easy enough, right?

At first it was a little difficult seeing how there were many places you three had to go, and it was giving Sam some anxiety, not only that, but he was feeling a type of way that he couldn't put his finger on. He thought it may have been is psychic abilities, but one touch from you and his skin lit on fire, he instantly knew that he was horny. When he got into your shared hotel bed together, his crotch pressed into you full rump, it took every bone in his body to not jump you right then and there, to keep his wondering hands placed tightly in yours.

You could sense something was off with your lovely boyfriend when you had gotten into the Impala, and instead of Sam sitting up front with his brother, he chose to sit in the back with you, one hand on your thigh. You found it a bit strange, but nonetheless welcomed the out of the blue affection. But you didn't welcome it when all of you split to go investigate different parts of an abandoned house, Sam hot on your heels.

As you were turned around, you felt Sam wrap his arms around your waist, his head buried in between your shoulder and your neck.

"Sam?" You questioned, the energy detecting device in your hand slowly lowering. He dragged his large hand down your fluffy stomach, resting it over the zipper of your pants. "Sammy?" You asked again, but this time your voice was higher pitched. He always acted this way when he was needy, but it was never out in the open like this, not when somebody could easily walk in and see your compromising decision.

"I just— I just want you so bad. . . I don't—" Sam rambled, pulling down the zipper of your fly. "You couldn't wait to do this?" You breathed, your head slightly tipping back. "Why did you think I picked the farthest room in the house?" Of course he lead you hear with an ulterior motive, why wouldn't he? He was smart, strategical, and you'd be lying if you said that you were tempted to give in.

"Sam, we can't, I'm sorry." Your hands fell over his sneaky one's, pulling your zipper back up and placing his hands back on your waist. He audibly groaned when you turned around threw your arms around his neck. His pupils were blown out, his expression was that of a kicked puppy. "Baby, you know that I want this as much as you do, I always will, but not in public." You sighed, pushing some of his hair out of his face. "I know. . . Can I— can I just kiss you?" He asked, his hands sliding lower before resting on the swell of your ass.

"Dean's gonna be real mad that we haven't got anything," You teased running your fingers through his hair, but you showed no hostility as his lips ghosted over yours. "It'll only be for a couple of minutes. . ." He mumbled, pressing his lips onto yours. It felt so great to kiss you, like your touch was slowly extinguishing the fire that had been burning in his stomach for the past two days. He couldn't help that his palms gripped your ass aggressively, rubbing you crotches together. You moaned quietly into his mouth, Sam hiking up your thigh so that he could get a better angle. His growing erection was pressed against your heated cunt, the friction driving both of you nuts.

"You said only kissing. . ." You breathed against his lips, arousal becoming more prominent in your panties. He only groaned in reply, his head tipping back so that his neck was exposed to you. You attached your lips onto is most sensitive spot located just under his ear, Sam bucking his hips against you. You were muting yourself by making marks that wouldn't easily be seen, but Sam was forced to bite his lower lip to silence himself. The worst part about doing this in not only a potentially haunted house, was that it was extremely empty, sound basically bouncing off the walls. You knew Dean would never allow Sam to live this down if he were to catch the two of you.

The tingling sensation of an orgasm was barely in your grasp, but it was enough to detach yourself from his neck and collarbones, only placing a kiss there which your lipstick left a mark.

"Sam, ____?" Dean called out. "You guys got anything?" Your eyes widened as you pushed Sam off of you, giving him a look of apology. "Uhh— no, there's nothing here!" You shouted back, licking your sleeve and wiping the makeup off his lips. "Alright well I explored all of downstairs and most of the upstairs and I got nothin', so I think we're done here." His voice was a bit closer, but now by a lot. "Okay! So are we gonna go?" You asked, straightening up Sam as he stood there with a stupid smile on his face. "Yeah! I'm goin' to be in the Impala, so you guys better hurry up!" He concluded, his voice growing fainter as he walked back down the stairs."Sam," You growled, "I'm going to kill you." You glared, now wiping off your lips for any smeared product.

"I'm sorry honey, I got a bit carried away." He apologized, but he didn't even sound remotely sorry. You just scoffed, grabbing your things with the intention of leaving. "Sure." He only laughed, following close next to you. "Don't act like you didn't like it," He teased. You only rolled your eyes, but it provoked a small grin on your lips. "Well I hope this'll sedate you until we get back home." You poked, both of you now walking down the old stairs. "Maybe, but seeing how your butt is looking in those jeans, I may be tempted to do it again." You groaned, "I'm going with Dean next time."

As you guys were about to get into the car, your eyes landed on your lipstick mark that you had placed on the side of Sam's neck. You felt your stomach fall into your ass but it was already too late, Sam had gotten into the front seat of the car while you got into the back anxiously. You watched Dean look at Sam's neck before smirking wolfishly, making eye contact with you in the rearview window.

"Looks like you guys got a lot of things done." He said, his voice full of amusement.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy

[mrrharper]

A Real Jock's Supposed To Be Dumb

Mike had a problem. And that problem was Tyler Grant.

Tyler Grant and Mike were both juniors studying finance. Mike was, according to the commonly used way of stereotyping people in college, a nerd. He studied, read books and academic papers, didn't posses good social skills. A nerd.

Tyler Grant was a college athlete, a wide receiver on their university's football team. and at a first glance he was very much a typical jock. He was muscular, his clothes always made that clear. He was popular with everyone, a bit cocky. Everyone knew that type.

But this wasn't the whole picture. For a football jock Tyler had surprisingly good grades. He spent at least some of his free time studying for exams and projects, he was active during classes, and he made an effort to get to know everyone who was present in the lecture hall alongside him.

And that meant Mike was... not frequently, but consistently approached by Tyler. The athlete usually exchanged a few words with him whenever the two bumped into each other.

And Mike was infuriated by this.

Because of course Tyler wasn't doing this because he was a genuinely nice person.

For sure he was doing this out of pity.

He probably laughed all day about Mike, that sad little nerd.

And all that pretending, which was definitely what Tyler was doing, made Mike fuckin' annoyed.

One day Mike was walking through downtown and he stumbled upon a thrift store. Lead by an impulsive thought he walked in and moved through countless racks and shelves. Then he saw it. A random golden chain, similar to the ones jocks like Tyler wore on a daily basis. Again driven by a strange impulse Mike picked it up.

"When you wear it, your word will be reality" A voice, belonging to some older man, whispered into Mike's ear. He quickly turned around but saw no one standing next to him. His eves went back to the chain. He had to have it.

So he bought it. What happened next was pure magic. The golden chain, when hanging form his neck, allowed Mike to alter reality. Which was insane. The chain's power was limited, but clearly visible and Mike was amazed.

He knew what he wanted to do with that power.

A week later Mike had to do a project for a class. The project required working in pairs and, what a coincidence, Tyler was sitting close to him and suggested they work together. Mike put on a fake slime, deep down sure that this was some new plot to make fun of him.

The next day they met in the university library to work on the project. As Tyler looked through some data on his laptop, Mike made sure the chain was under on his neck, hidden by his t-shirt and hoodie.

"You will treat everything I say as normal" Mike said. Nothing changed, Tyler just nodded after hearing these word and continued working. Mike smirked. Perfect.

"You will start behaving like a real jock. No more talking to me out of pity and then laughing at me behind my back. Be a real jock bro."

"Yeah, bruh" Tyler muttered to himself. His position shifted, his upper body more relaxed on the chair, his legs spread out. He swiftly removed his hoodie, revealing a white tank top.

"And let's not kid ourselves, deep down you know you are a dumb idiot. A jock like you will always end up with a brain that can only understand football plays." Mike grinned. He felt real good saying those words. Getting rid of academic competition, putting Tyler where he belonged.

"you callin' me a dumbass, fuckin' nerd?" Tyler stopped typing on his laptop. He looked at Mike, a dumb, cocky grin now clearly visible on his face. Moke could now see the arrogant dominance in his eyes.

"Yes, and you won't do anything about it, because you listen to everything I say, you dumb jock." Mike said straight into Tyler's face. The jock chuckled dumbly and flexed his arm. He put his hand on the bulging muscles and squeezed them.

"duuuuuh, dude" he drawled "wha' were we doin' even bruh? muh brain foggy dude..." he looked at his still opened laptop. "shit, nerd, what is that fuckin' nonsence!"

"I'll take care of that" Mike said as he closed Tyler's laptop. "You have other things to care about."

"fuck yeah i do, nerd!" Tyler barked at him. "Gotta get these guns pumped bruuuuh!" He flexed his arms again and laughed out loud, attracting attention of other people in the library.

"Okay, my jock, we gotta get you out of here" Mike stood up and waited for Tyler to do the same.

"oh fuck, nerd, we gotta get out of this fuckin' nerd central, am i right huhuhuhuhuh" He chuckled loudly as they left the library, Mike's hand on Tyler's biceps. After they were outside Tyler stopped for a moment, got his phone out and took a photo of himself flexing his arm.

"gotta keep the chicks on insta hot n' bothered, nerd" Mike smirked as he heard that. Oh yeah, his plan was going great.

[misctf]

A New Daddy

Aaron sighed as he kicked another rock down the walking path. He found himself here a lot nowadays. It offered him some much needed peace and a place to think about his life. In reality, Aaron was overjoyed. His wife was due any day and he’d be a father soon. But Aaron was anxious. His dad was not much of a father and left the family when he was young. And because of that, the soon to be father was worried... what if he was a bad father? What if he messed up something? He never had a real role model. With another sigh, he sat down on the edge of a small pond and started skipping stones. As he looked out over the lake, he didn’t register the strange glow coming from the stone in his hand.

“I just wish I’ll be a good dad.” He whispered as he tossed the stone.

He watched as the stone hopped across the pond and with each hop glowing slightly brighter. He was fixated on the strange glow- it was perhaps one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. But his amazement quickly subsided as he felt a cool breeze pass over his bare skin. Wait... bare skin!? Aaron jumped up and looked down at his naked form. He quickly covered his junk and looked around in terror. Where’d his clothes go? What if someone saw him? Wait... since when did his chest hair look like that? Aaron watched as the light dusting of chest hairs that adorned his toned chest started to darken. And as they darkened, more started to sprout across his pale skin. He raised his hand to his chest, confirming that these new growths were real, but quickly yelped in surprise when he noticed the same wiry dark hairs sprouting across his arms.  

“I need to get help.” He whispered, turning his attention away from the thick pelt that was growing over him, “Where’s my phone? Fuck did that disappear to? I’ll just need to ask someone... anyone...”

Aaron took a step forward to start his search and cried out in pain as his foot touched the ground. It felt like all the muscles in his body were contracting. He watched through teary eyes as his calves and thighs exploded with muscle- thickening and becoming large like tree trunks. He winced as he raised his arms and watched as his previously thin and toned musculature started to thicken. His forearms were first, followed by his biceps and triceps, which were becoming padded with thick layers of muscle and fat. While incredibly painful, he was amazed. What guy doesn’t dream of having muscles like this? But this wasn’t natural and he couldn’t do anything as his body continued to transform against his will. Aaron watched as his flat, but now hairy abdomen, pushed out with layers of fat. He’d never be called “beanpole” again, he realized. But just as his stomach was blossoming into a firm muscle gut, his hairy chest was following closely. He packed on layers of muscle and fat to his previously toned chest. All the while, a pleasure was building from nipples, which were becoming larger and perkier. Aaron let out a silent cry as a cold sweat washed over him and his muscles relaxed.

“I... need... help...” He breathed out, flipping over and forcing himself up.

He stood unsteadily on his thickened legs. He was certainly taller than before. And as he tried to reorient himself, he became unbalanced and fell to his knees. He met his reflection in the still pond water. It was still him. His light dirty blond hair, kind eyes, and youthful face. But... but he couldn’t help but noticed that his stubble looked slightly darker. And before he could do anything, he watched with dread as his facial hair became darker and started to form into a manly beard. He couldn’t turn away as he watched his dirty blond hair fall from the top of his head, until he was completely bald. And then a new feeling washed over him as his skin became tougher and weathered as his body aged rapidly.

“No... fuck no.” He whispered as he turned away from his new reflection, “This... how did this?” He winced at how gruff and deep his new voice was. This didn’t make sense. None of this made sense. He felt tears in his eyes as he looked down as his hairier, older, and thicker form.

And suddenly the world spun around him- shifting and changing rapidly. The now older man felt his head spin as the world around him changed. He was no longer in a park, but instead what looked like a home workout room. Weights and equipment scattered all around him. And as the world stopped spinning, he attempted to regain his footing, but fell with a loud bang.

“Fuck!” He shouted, his deeper voice again causing him to wince. He quickly looked around, but everything seemed to be tinted darker, “Sunglasses?” He whispered as he caught sight of himself in the gym’s mirror, “What am I wearing?” It looked like some type of leather harness wrapped around his chest, causing his muscular pecs to be more pronounced, “At least I’m not naked anymore.” He mused, looking down at the white jockstrap that covered his dick, “Where the fuck am I? I need to find Amy and get help...”

“Daddy?” Aaron froze when he heard the high-pitched, feminine, yet decidedly male voice. He turned and locked eyes with the man, “Oh my god, daddy are you okay?”

Aaron’s eyes widened as the younger man ran towards him, wearing nothing more than a light-blue jockstrap. Each step causing the platinum blond man’s ass to bounce. Aaron was mesmerized, his eyes fixated on the guy’s massive bubble butt. How perky and jiggly it was. How much he wanted to squeeze it. Wait? Squeeze it?

“I don’t need you.” Aaron spat, picking himself up, “Get away from me!” Wait... why was his cock growing? He wasn’t into men? Or their sexy asses. Sexy? Aaron gripped his head, “Wait... no... stop...”

“But daddy, I just want to help you.” The twink bit his lower lip and walked up to Aaron, “And you’ve been working so hard.” He traced his hands along Aaron’s hairy muscular torso, “Please daddy, just a taste.” He moaned as his hand slipped under Aaron’s jockstrap.

Aaron’s mind was filled with conflicting thoughts. He was going to be a father... but wasn’t he already a daddy? A daddy? A damn good daddy, right? But didn’t he like women? Wasn’t he married? Why would he be married? Since when was he ever with a woman? Since when did he ever want to be with a woman?

“Please daddy.” The twink moaned as he pulled down the jockstrap, freeing Aaron’s cock. And he didn’t protest.

As the twink wrapped his mouth around the older man’s cock, Aaron’s mind spun even faster. It felt so good, so much better than any time with a woman. And as he looked down at the slut on his knees, his ass jiggling with each thrust of Aaron’s monster cock, a new feeling washed over him.

“Deeper, boy.” Aaron commanded, gripping the back of the twink’s head and forcing his cock deeper, “Show daddy how much you want it.”

The twink obliged and Aaron threw his head back in pleasure. His spinning thoughts were settling down. His new identity taking hold. He was a dom daddy. A good daddy for his little slut. Nothing before this mattered- nothing ever mattered, just this. Even his old self was becoming content, quieting down and falling into a state of blissful pleasure. After all, he just wanted to be a good daddy? Wish granted, right?

“God damn, boy!” Aaron shouted as he came, sending torrents of cum down his slut’s throat. He sat down on the workout bench, while his slut breathed heavily.

“Oh daddy, thank you.” The twink moaned, “You’re the best daddy ever.”

Aaron smirked, “Damn right, boy.” He smirked at himself in the mirror. Fuck he looked good. A true man. His attention turned back to his slut, “Now boy, are you ready for round two?”

[bunny-yan]

Love your yandere king so much ❤ But what if he kills his darling ?

TW:death, descriptions of death, violence, strangulation, content is not suitable for minors —

Strangled gasps echoed throughout the room, beating against the walls as your cries for help were silenced. 

You supposed it didn’t matter even if you could manage to get someone’s attention. The king could order a maid to stand and watch as he tortured you endlessly and they would act as if it was another normal day. Stone faced they’d watch, no signs of registering your pleas unless the king allowed. 

And the king didn’t allow much these days. 

Constantly irritated and on edge if you weren’t plastered to his side, you knew you should’ve woken him up and told him that you were going to the bathroom, but you wanted a moment of peace. Of silence. A moment to yourself. 

The punishment when you returned was his hands around your throat, squeezing as he leaned over your body and cursed you for trying to leave him, for attempting to escape. 

It didn’t make sense. 

You came back so you didn’t understand how he could accuse you of trying to escape. You could argue that maybe it was just his sleep deprived brain playing tricks on him. That the you inside his dreams was a bit more honest about how you felt and he was dragging that version of you to reality. The real you. The silenced you. 

But it still didn’t make sense. 

You’d gone to relieve yourself for crying out loud. In what world did it seem appropriate to reprimand a natural bodily function with violence? Of course, he was the king and he could punish you for simply looking at him the wrong way. There was no arguing for someone in your position. 

You were tired of self-debating the injustice of it all. 

You tried to apologize, knowing that it usually calmed him down. You would take the blame because it was your fault at the end of the day. 

You set him off. If you had just remained by his side, this wouldn’t be happening right now. You knew he would get angry and you expected this to happen. What were you thinking? You could only blame yourself for the hands that were actively squeezing the life out of you. You struggled to get the two words, that seemed to live on your tongue, out. 

I’m sorry.

He’d stop then. He’d still be angry, growl cruel words at you and shake you like a ragdoll, shake you so hard that it felt like your neck might snap off of your neck, but then he’d hold you close like the perfect lover, as if the monster that consumed him every waking moment never existed. 

But you couldn’t make a sound. 

Looking back and forth between his furious eyes, your mouth opened and closed but short breaths were the only thing that passed through your lips. Your hands wrapped around his wrists, begging him to loosen his painful hold but as if he sensed your squirming resistance he gripped you harder. 

You felt as he crushed something in your throat and a sharp jolt of fear passed through your body at the thought that this was it. 

You were going to die. 

You could fight, struggle, but you knew it would only make him squeeze tighter, completely cutting off what little air you were allowed. 

This is the end. 

Strangely, the thought gave you peace. You couldn’t imagine how many times you’d woken up after dreaming about a simple life with someone you loved in a small village as far away from the kingdom as possible and felt the growing urge to cry. To bawl your eyes out as you lived each day in devastation, realizing that it was simply that. A dream. And a dream is all it would ever be. 

Until now. 

You finally got to escape. Escape the growing loneliness that seemed to burrow itself deeply inside of you, carving into you each day without remorse. Escape the callous remarks and repulsed stares, judging you for dwelling in a position you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemies. You would get to escape the king and his sweet, sick laughter and soft looks that’d morph into an erratic crazed obsession. 

You would finally get to be with the people that were taken from you, the people you loved and would no longer have to miss dearly.  

Finally. 

When the king’s anger ebbed, he ripped his hands away from your neck, climbing off of you to go to the balcony. He hoped that the cool air would calm him down because he was still seeing red and being near you wasn’t helping the situation. 

As he looked out on the silent night, he took a deep breath and pushed a frustrated hand through his hair. 

You would be the death of him. 

The king didn’t understand why he always got so angry when it came to you. It was never this difficult to control his anger, but he supposed with time his rage only grew. 

From the minute he laid eyes on you, he knew the two of you were meant for each other. He kept you by his side in order to get your to realize that, but no matter how many hints he dropped or passes he made, you refused to understand. Those around you didn’t make it much better. He noticed the way some of your fellow servants touched you casually when it’d taken him months to touch you without you flinching away from his touch or tensing up. 

You always reminded him of his position when he knew it better than anyone else. 

The prince was as kind as he was benevolent. He was wise and patient to better understand and lead his citizens. And if another dared to lay claim on something he already acknowledged as his, the prince was going to lose his mind. 

What good was all this power if it couldn’t give him what he wanted? He was raised  with the knowledge that everything in the world was within his grasp. 

And so he took. 

He felt awful. Anyone would when faced with their lover’s crying face. You were supposed to be happy, but your aversion was simply because you didn’t understand. 

And you didn’t seem to be the only one. 

He’d heard the conversation you had with your father and it broke his heart to hear that you no longer wanted to serve as his companion. You begged, pleaded to be demoted to the position of a stable hand if you had to, but your father understood his position. He understood that it was an honor to serve the prince in a position that most other nobles your age could only hope to dream about and told you there was nothing he could do. 

But he went to the king anyway. Asked him to reconsider the prince’s companion and place someone more suitable in the position. 

He fumed, realizing that you weren’t the only one he would have to educate. 

Your father was a nuisance that aided you in your foolishness. A nuisance that you’d helped him get rid of. You were despondent, but so docile and sweet once he got rid of the distractions in your relationship. 

Or most of them. 

He never imagined that his father would try to separate the two of you. The prince thought that he of all people would understand, but he wouldn’t muster his princely patience this time. He’d waited long enough to get you all to himself and nothing would stand in his way. 

He was king now and he’d all but assured that no one would ever stand in the way of your relationship again. There was nothing to be afraid of anymore. No one would take you from him. 

No one would take you away. 

Pushing off of the balcony, he walked back inside, reasonably placated as he shut the doors to prevent a draft before climbing back into bed. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he was surprised when you didn’t flinch away. After one of his outbursts you had a tendency of trembling and angling your body away from him, but you laid still. 

He smiled before pulling you closer. 

It had to have been the most peaceful sleep he’d gotten in a while. 

~*~

The king’s first thought when he woke up the next morning was that you were oddly cold. He looked to the door, frowning when he saw that it was closed. He’d made sure to close the balcony doors so why did your skin feel like ice?

“Good morning, my love.” he said, caressing the side of your face. He smiled, leaning over your body before slowly kissing your frigid lips. 

You were silent. 

Placing a hand on your shoulder, he shook you lightly. “Wake up, love. It’s time to start our day.” 

You remained silent. 

“My love?” 

Looking at you, he slowly backed away when he noticed your body was unnaturally still. No fluttering eyelashes, no rise and fall of your chest, nothing. 

He was stumbling towards the door yelling for someone to call a doctor before he even realized what his body was doing. Maids entered, hands covering their mouths at the sight of you and he was sure someone screamed, but he couldn’t hear anything past the static in his ears. He couldn’t see anything, but you. 

It didn’t take long for the doctor to arrive. Rushing to your side as the king yelled at him to fix you, asking her what was wrong with you. He knew it couldn’t be anything good when the woman froze after touching your wrist, slowly turning before looking at him with those eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” she began to say, but he was shaking his head. 

“Get out.” he said quietly, coming forward before shoving the woman away from you. “Get out!” he yelled, not bothering to watch as she hurried out of the door. “That doctor was incompetent. Drag her away, punish her, and find someone else. NOW!”

Bodies bustled around, rushing to fulfill his orders, but he only had eyes for you. He held your hand, kissing each knuckle before he rested it against his face. You would be okay. You had to be. He didn’t know what he was going to do if you weren’t okay. 

Doctor after doctor arrived, feeling the fierce pressure the king exuded as he ordered them to do something and time after time he received the same words. 

I’m sorry. 

It seemed to be the only thing the incompetent fools could say. 

I’m sorry. 

He shook his head, wondering whether he would hang the doctors for their incompetence. You were fine yesterday. Talking with him, laughing and touching, and now you were… what? What would they have him to believe?

He walked to your side, the doctors backing away slowly as he leaned over your body. 

Silence permeated the room, everyone afraid to breathe lest they incur the king’s wrath, but it was abruptly broken by sharp laughter. 

The king’s laughter. 

Broken laughter that became muffled when he covered his mouth. 

His body shook violently, everyone in the room flinching when he whipped around to face them with an ugly sneer. 

“Are you fools so blind to not recognize a sleeping person?”

Everyone hesitated, too afraid to look away from the king.

“I have no further use for you. Get out.”

Maids, doctors, and servants alike left the king’s chambers single file, unsure what had occurred, but he didn’t seem to notice.If anything it was better for the both of you. No one was bothering you and you could rest peacefully. 

He came to your side, tugging the covers back over you as he sighed. 

“I shouldn’t have kept you awake for so long.” he said. You looked so cold.

His cheeks stretched into a soft smile. If you’d only opened your eyes to see how easily he could rest beside you now. 

Your routine followed the same pattern. 

The king would wake up, smiling as he kissed you and coaxed you to wake up but you remained as still as you’d been for the past couple of days. Your clammy skin did nothing to deter his affection as he’d kiss your forehead, your eyes, your pale lips. 

He was used to getting an adverse reaction. He wasn’t sure if he preferred not receiving one at all, but it had to have been progress, right?

The king could start the day without punishing his lover for not responding properly. He could go perform his duties as king without worrying whether or not you’d attempt to escape again. He wouldn’t have to order the guards and maids to search for you. You would just remain sleeping in bed until you saw fit to get up. 

The king hoped it was soon because he’d missed seeing your eyes, regardless of the emotion they held for him. 

After a week, no one mentioned the putrid odor that began to drift from the king’s bedroom. The king himself had nothing to say about it so the others would keep their mouths shut. 

His advisors continued meetings, exchanging glances between each other but none being bold enough to speak up. Maids would glance towards him nervously when he would pass by, too afraid to even whisper.

A considerate maid walked in and caused a commotion by screaming. What she saw remained a mystery to the other servants as the king barred others from his bedroom, lest they disturbed his sleeping lover and she refused to speak about it, looking distant. The servants were relieved they had an excuse to avoid cleaning the king’s bedroom. If not for the unspeakable terror then for fear that they’d aggravate the ghost-like king that appeared more haggard the longer you went without acknowledging his presence. 

He supposed he couldn’t blame you. You couldn’t speak to him if you were asleep. He understood that rest was important, but he missed hearing your voice. Even if it meant hearing things he would hate, anything was better than this awful silence. 

“My love?” he said, speaking to you even though he knew you wouldn’t respond. It wasn’t time yet, he told himself. You were still recovering. Still catching up due to restless nights he caused. He could give as many as he took, but it didn’t stop him from being lonely. 

If anything, it was the one emotion he had to realize he felt. 

He was terribly lonely. He’d only realized it after he no longer had the choice to speak to you. He didn’t have to seek you out anymore. He knew that you would be lying here, sleeping peacefully, but he’d look for you any day if it meant getting to hear your voice. 

“Do you think you’ll wake up soon?” he asked, brushing your hair gently. If only you would open your eyes and see the amount of love he held for you. You would just have to look at him to see. 

“Will you open your eyes?” he asked, on the verge of begging as he grew more and more afraid of the silence he knew he would be forced to endure. 

Wrapping his arms around your body, he held you gently as he tried to choke down distress at being deprived of something he’d taken for granted. 

“Please open your eyes.” he begged. “Please.”

After a month, the king was sure you were getting sick. 

He’d tried combing your hair since you couldn’t do it for yourself and was shocked to find that it was beginning to fall out. At first he thought it was normal, but as he persisted more hair clumped into the jeweled comb. 

He couldn’t wipe your body down because he’d begun to notice your skin change into a sickly color whenever he changed your clothes and the doctors that he’d attempted to enlist for advice responded with the same words he’d become tired of hearing. 

I’m sorry. 

There was never anything anyone could do. He had grown weary of even bothering. You would be fine. If he just gave you time, you’d recover and come back to him. 

But he didn’t know how long that would take. 

He’d begun to forget the color of your eyes, or what your expression looked like when it was filled with warmth. He continued to hold you as you slept and even if he hated it when you would flinch away from him, he needed something, anything from you. 

He craved to hear your voice say that you loved him. 

He wanted to remember the taste of your tongue as he held you tight. 

He needed to see you give something other than this god awful stillness. 

The king grit his teeth to the point where he felt as if his teeth cracked as he stared down at you, sleeping peacefully in the bed. 

“Get up.” he said, feeling something surge inside of him at the continued sight of your sleeping face. 

“Get up!”

The vase of wilted flowers on your bedside was the first thing to fly across the room, shattering into a million pieces as it hit a wall. He flipped over the table, ripped down the curtains, tore apart the bookshelf, wreaking havoc in attempt to bring you back from your persistent slumber. 

The king didn’t care when he stepped on glass, cutting into his feet. He didn’t care that there was a group of servants beginning to crowd outside of his bedroom, calling in to ask if he was okay. 

He only had eyes for you. 

“Wake up.” he ordered, voice hard and cold as he hovered above you, willing your eyes to open at the sound of his voice. “You’ve slept long enough. Get up!”

He yelled.

You didn’t flinch. 

All it took was the lack of a simple reaction  to break him completely as he sunk to his knees, pleading, begging for you to open your eyes. For you to end this tantrum because he had grown impatient of waiting for you.

The king couldn’t remember when he had fallen asleep, feeling pain in his legs, but he couldn’t comprehend anything beyond the sound of your voice calling for him. 

“My king?”

A gaunt face looked up. Wide eyes met your soft ones and the king felt tears prick the corner of his eyes as his shaking hand reached out to touch you. He was afraid. Was it really you? He hadn’t heard your voice for so long that he couldn’t be sure, but when you leaned into his touch, the dam burst as he hugged you tightly. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked him. 

His body shook, wracked as he sobbed. He didn’t understand just how much he’d missed hearing your voice. How much he missed you. 

Pulling away, he cried in your lap feeling such immense relief that he was exhausted despite having just woken up. 

“I’m sorry.” he said, kneeling at your feet as he caressed the sides of your ankles. It was the first time the words had ever left his lips. You had always been unsure whether he was taught the meaning of such words since he acted as if he could do no wrong, but maybe it took your continued silence to draw it out of him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” he said. 

He sounded so broken. It was unlike his usual haughty tone. The confidence he wore like a second  skin was gone now, replaced with an empty shell of a man as he prostrated himself before you. 

“Please,” he begged, not wanting anything more than your forgiveness in this moment. If it meant forsaking the kingdom and relinquishing his title, he’d do it if it meant keeping you by his side. “Please don’t leave me.”

It was quiet for a moment and the king felt a ghost of a hand against the top of his head. 

“Oh, king.”

Your voice was soft, gentle even. It gave him hope. Maybe he could fix things. He’d start over. He wouldn’t be so forceful. He always had a feeling that if he slowed his advances and focused on wooing you, you would’ve chosen to be his with time. 

“Don’t you know that I’m already gone?”

The king was frozen.  

You said the words so softly he was unsure if they were even said at all. He slowly raised his head, getting the distinct feeling that something was off, wrong. 

His mouth was dry, feeling sweat run down his neck as he attempted to steel himself. He couldn’t sit here frozen forever, but the sense of relief that encompassed him turned into a dreadful chill. It was foolish. There was nothing to be afraid of. Nothing had changed in the last few weeks. 

Months? 

Your words were ominous, but you weren’t to be feared. 

With a nervous breath, he lifted his head before his eyes froze on the stranger in his bed. 

His body locked as he struggled to pull his eyes away from the repulsive corpse sprawled on his bed. Ghastly pale skin that appeared to mold in multiple places, maggot infested sockets where eyes should’ve been housed, and a slack mouth that melted into skeletal jaw. He could see the bone. 

The king couldn’t move fast enough as his gag reflex kicked in, not just at the sight but the putrid smell that seemed to invade his senses. He retched, feeling his throat constrict painfully, but the smell was nothing compared to the body. 

He was no stranger to dead bodies, having created many of his own, but there was something about the sight of one in his bed, one that seemed to sink and decay in too many places. In the place where the two of you spent time together. In the place where you should’ve been. 

Shaking his head, he stumbled backwards as he tried to get to his feet. After almost failing twice, a sudden surge of fear struck him. 

Where were you? 

It was dangerous to stray from his side when someone had broken into his chambers to leave him such an unsightly display. 

Staggering to the door, he yelled for the guards, afraid to look behind him at the dead body he’d discovered in his bed. 

It didn’t make any sense. 

You had been right there. How could you have moved so quickly?

“Find them.” he said, the minute the first guard entered his eye sight. “Find them. They have to be here somewhere.”

They stood stockstill, the king growing increasingly angrier the longer they stood and stared at him like fools. 

You could’ve been halfway to another kingdom at this point!

“FIND THEM!” he roared, grabbing his sword as he threatened to cut down any who would dare disobey his orders. 

“My king.” 

He whipped around at the sound of your voice, eyes wide and wild. 

“Don’t you know that I’m already gone?”

Where was this voice coming from? It was yours, but you weren’t here. You weren’t…

His eyes slowly made their way back to the corpse on your side of the bed. The same place you’d always slept. The place where you’d been for the last couple of months, sleeping. 

But you were sleeping, you couldn’t be… 

No. 

He shook his head, not wanting to come to terms with reality. It couldn’t be. This body wasn’t yours. It looked nothing like you. 

I’m sorry.

It was all they could say. 

I’m sorry. 

Each and every doctor he’d called to check on your condition. 

I’m sory. 

Even his own words that he’d realized he said too late. 

He was too late and you were gone. 

The sword clattered to the ground, the king’s quick breath becoming painful as bile forced its way up and out of his body. 

The body was you. 

No. 

Don’t you know I’m already gone?

No. Who said that? He’d heard you. He heard your voice. It couldn’t be. 

It couldn’t be you. It couldn’t be you. It couldn’t be you. 

The king apologized! He said he would do things differently and he meant it this time. He wouldn’t let his anger get the best of him. He would try to understand you better. If anything his time apart from you proved that he could patiently and wait for you, so you couldn’t be gone. Not when he was finally ready to make things right. 

I’m sorry.

Gripping at his hair, he let out something akin to wail that sounded unsettling and inhuman as he began pulling at the strands to rip his hair out. He fought against the hands that grabbed at him, forcing him to the ground to stop him from hurting himself, but he only had eyes for you. 

He only had eyes for you.