#x gn

[ablobwhowrites]

I saw this picture and my brain immediately thought of My Lovely Neighbor and I had to this im sorry

....

Who said Lila didn’t do the same?….if this happened when bob was a maniac cannibal, he’d bust in and try to kiss y/n

[leighsartworks216]

A Decent Man

Wyll x AFAB!Tav/Reader (can be read as platonic)

Wyll deserves a longer fic but my brain is mush rn

No body descriptions so it can be read by anybody who suffers from periods, but I have pulled from my own experiences and made it Very Heavy. I also think this could be read as platonic. There's nothing really pointing toward romance, and the kiss on the cheek can totally be platonic (as well as cuddling) so yeah take it as you will

Warnings: blood, menstruation, anxiety, embarrassment

Word Count: 937

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

The night had been so perfect. Wyll had accepted you into his tent when the weather turned sour. He opened up his bedroll to you when you were shivering. All night you slept wrapped in his arms, safe, protected and warm. The Absolute was far from your mind. Tadpoles did not seem to exist in the temporary bliss that encapsulated you both.

And then you woke up, and you just knew it was too damn good to be true.

The first thing you were aware of was the strong pair of arms holding you close. One draped over your side, the other cradling your head in the crook of his elbow. Next, the scent of campfire smoke and the oil he used on his braids. And then, the discomfort between your legs. Warm and slick and terrible.

Panic rushed your heart, adrenaline stealing the sleepy haze from your mind. When in the night had your period began? Early enough to have you bleeding through Wyll’s bedroll? Or late enough you would be lucky if it didn’t stain your pants? There was no way of telling, but the awful guilt flooded your chest all the same.

You risk a glance at Wyll’s face. It’s the most relaxed you think he’s ever been in all the time you’ve known him. Always he carried his burdens in the lines of his face, the furrow of his brow, behind sweet smiles and his dashing Blade persona. Your heart hurt at the thought of waking him and stealing that peace.

As slow and careful as you could, you slipped his arm from around your waist. He shifted slightly, and you waited. But after a moment he still did not wake. You continue your escape. Cold air hits your body like an arctic wind as you pull back the corner of the thin blanket. You lift yourself from his arm that acted as your pillow, sitting up. You cringe as a tightness clutches at your belly, and the wet feeling of blood spilling out. There is no doubt in your mind now: you’ve bled all the way through.

Tears of frustration prick at your eyes. Wyll was kind enough to provide you shelter and comfort, and your body decided now would be the most perfect time for a practical joke against you. If you had the wherewithal to remember to track your cycle with everything else horrid going on, perhaps you could have avoided this. Or maybe your body would have brought on your period sooner, just to catch you off guard.

The quiet sound of your name, drowsy and confused, seals the deal on this being one of the worst days of the entire quest so far, everything else be damned. You wanted to drown in your embarrassment, suffocate on your misfortune. Anything to ignore the shift of the blanket as Wyll sits up beside you, frowning as he tries to meet your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asks softly, as though one wrong misstep and you’d shatter. His own mind races with thoughts of nightmares, or even the mysterious Dream Guardian that often came to visit.

The last of your dignity shrivels and dies as you adamantly avoid looking at him, glaring instead at the floor by your shoes. It is harder to tell him what’s happened than it is to drown yourself in the Chionthar river, and far less pleasant. The words grit at you. They feel like jagged steel as they come up your throat to be voiced aloud.

“I… I started my cycle last night.” You sigh, fighting the flurry of hormone-driven emotions as you bury your face in your hands. “I think I’ve bled through your bedroll, Wyll, I’m so so sorry.”

If it was Shadowheart or Karlach, you’d be far less embarrassed and far less upset. Hells, even Lae’zel, and you weren’t even sure she had a blood cycle like this.

You start to assure him you’ll wash it out, that he can have yours if he feels uncomfortable sleeping on his own again - anything to make this right. But before you can even get the words out, he’s rubbing your back.

“Hey, it’s alright. Why don’t you go wash and get changed. I can deal with this.”

You pull your face from your hands to blink at him. He smiles when he finally meets your eyes, sweet and reassuring. “Are you sure?” you ask. “I’m sorry, but you just have a tendency to do things people ask even when it makes you uncomfortable.”

He laughs. “As much as I hate to admit how true that is, a little bit of blood won’t be pushing me out of my comfort zone.”

You’re almost certain you really will start crying as you wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tight. He’s careful to avoid knocking you with his horns, but wraps his arm around your upper back to hold you close. You kiss his cheek and thank him.

“For doing what any decent man worth his salt should do?” he asks, though despite the teasing in his voice, he can hear the utter relief in yours. He truly never considered before that something so small would mean so much, something he truly considered the absolute bare minimum. It only encouraged him to do more, if only to ease the burden of years of suffering through this alone put on you.

“I hate to be the one to break it to you, Wyll Ravengard, but there is a great lack of decent men.”

“Then I pride myself on being one of the last of this dying breed.”

---

Tag List:

@anonymously-ominous

[sweetheartmotives]

🦅°Yandere Eagle Hybrid°🦅

Desc and possible Tw: The word Mate, Hints at sexual reproduction, crying, mentions of going high into the air, not specified consent to getting grabbed into the sky.

It's the 4th of July and I wanted to do something special! So introducing Harper, the yandere Eagle!!

[I made him a lil dumb!]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

• Yandere Eagle Hybrid who… spots you wandering in his part of the woods.

• Yandere Eagle Hybrid who… Swoops down From his cave high in the mountains To get a closer look.

• Yandere Eagle Hybrid who… seriously considered you food at first, but then saw your pretty lil face~

How precious…

• Yandere Eagle Hybrid who… couldn't get enough of you! He later figured out that you were volunteering for forest pick-up.

Cleaning my home..? What a perfect Mate.

•Yandere Eagle Hybrid who… Absolutely adores you! When He finally introduced himself, you were screaming in fear Happiness!

I'm so happy to see you too, my darling mate!

•Yandere Eagle Hybrid who… clings and cries when you don't spend atleast 90% of your time with him.

Loud whining and crying MATEEEE PLEASE STOP IGNORING MEEE

•Yandere Eagle Hybrid who… uses his talons and Flys you high into the air to watch the fireworks!

Oh, my dear Mate.. They're almost as beautiful as you.

•Yandere Eagle Hybrid who… can't help but be a little rough during bedroom orrr nest time. 0hhhh fuck.. mate ahhhh.. thankyouthankyouthankyou

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~My daily dose of ocs. Also, this was a little short so forgive me!! I felt as if I should post a holiday special! This is Harper the Eagle btw haha! He enjoys fireworks very much.

Anyways I hope you enjoy reading, This was so much fun to make!! :3

[marilynmydarling]

❝ CLASSICAL!

ROMANCE ⅕ ❞

➸ eve 18 they/them

⸬ 【 🎀 I would rather die than let you go 💌】⸬

[emmyrosee]

Sometimes, it’s just fun to mess with Sukuna.

He likes to think he’s got you figured out, like how he knows how to navigate each one of your antics like the back of his hand.

But right now, over ice cream, you decide to pull a fast one on him, keep him back on his toes and let him fester in the playfulness that sometimes slips from the relationship.

“Here kuna baby, try this,” you hum, passing him a spoonful of ice cream. He shrugs and leans over, taking the bite and chewing it thoughtfully.

“Pretty good.”

“Right?” You giggle, before wiping your spoon clean. “I didn’t think I’d like the bits of cookie but-“

“What the fuck was that?”

You quirk your brow as his raise in annoyance, looking at you angrily. “What was what, babe?”

“I know you didn’t just wipe your spoon clean,” he snaps. “Be so fucking for real.”

You giggle, “well… yeah… why wouldn’t I? I don’t want to eat your spit.”

“Eat my- WE MAKE OUT?!”

“That’s different,” you scoff. “That’s consensual. This was my spoon.”

His eyes are blown with annoyance as they look around your face for any indication that you’re full of shit and messing with him, but when you give him a simple shrug, he throws his spoon down and immediately grips your cheeks in his hands, pulling you into a messy, noisy kiss, which you squeal into. You taste the rocky road in his lips, and as much as you want to melt into the intense affection, to rile him up more, you bring yours hands to his chest to push him away.

“Kuna!” You gasp against his lips. “What’re you-“

“Look,” he snarls, pulling away angrily. “We’ve been together too long for us to think anything is gross. I refuse to let you think any part of me is gross. Dickhead. I’m perfect.”

“I was kidding!” You laugh, bringing your hands up to cup his cheeks. “There’s nothing in the world I find more attractive than you and your spit.”

Now, he lets out a gag and pulls a face at your words, “alright. Moods gone. You ruined it.” He shakes his head from your grip and pouts.

“Babyyyy,” you titter, grabbing and smushing his cheeks together while you nudge his nose. “There’s always a mood with you.”

“Yeah. And you constantly ruin it.”

[chososlilprincess]

Virgin Choso who doesnt know why he feels hot one day when he looks at you, something twitching in his pants and his face turns pink from…embarrassment? He doesnt understand these new feelings that come with having a human body, and he doesn’t know why he’s reluctant to ask someone about it. Not you atleast, he couldn’t ask you. What if you thought he was weird? or creepy? why does he even care? he’s never cared about silly things like what others think of him.

When he eventually confides in his younger brother Yuji, he tells him something he can’t pick whether is terrifying or exciting. “its normal bro, you just like her,” he tells him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “and when you like somebody they often make you feel uh…horny,” Yuji said grinning. Choso gets more and more embarrassed as Yuji tells him the basics of the birds and the bees.

Now Choso was in his bed, rock hard in his underwear after thinking about you for a little too long. He thought of what Yuji told him to do when his cock starts feeling weird, he had to ‘jerk off’ which his brother had told him would ’help the ache in his dick but make his feelings for you worse’

Choso sighed and reached a hand down to touch his cock, not yet reaching into his underwear. He sucked in a breath, it was terribly sensitive. pathetic.

He thought about you as he rubbed himself with his hand, thought about how you look when you laugh, about your pretty fucking eyes. The prettiest ones he’d ever seen in his almost 200 years of living. He shudders, and when he looks down again there’s a wet spot forming in his underwear, right where his tip was placed.

He feels dirty, he feels like a pervert. Thinking about his pretty friend while doing something so nasty. It feels wrong. But he needs it, he craves it.

He reluctantly pulls down his boxers, watching as his cock springs up, and it hurts. He thinks of you again, about that one time you stumbled over your own feet, and put your pretty little hand on his chest so you wouldn’t fall.

He touches his tip and he whines. fuck. it’s red and sensitive and little beads of what he assumes is pre cum, leaks out.

He starts playing with himself, grasping his length softly and stroking it once. He lifts up his tshirt and puts it in his mouth, to not make too much noice. it feels so fucking good already.

He begins stroking it slowly. up and down, just doing what feels good. He spits in his hand and brings it back to his cock to continue jerking off. He whimpers.

He’s so desperate for you to like him, for you to touch him, for him to be yours. And for you to be his. He closes his eyes, and he pictures you next to him, your smaller hand replacing his own, stroking him, telling him you love him. He thinks about kissing your pretty lips, holding your cute face in his hands. He thinks about being inside you,

his dick twitches as he groans, spilling his sticky load on his stomach while his whole body shakes. He stares at his mess, breathing heavily while he comes down from his high.

fuck. He wants you so bad, he needs you.

and Yuji was right, the ache in his now softening dick is gone, but the ache in his heart only got worse.

part two here

[v1x3n]

[puff0o0]

Your eyes watered before tears left them, falling down your face and into your hands as you tried to cover them

"Schatz.. I didn't think it would make you cry-"

König said softly, his hands meeting your shoulder before pulling you into a hug and holding you tight. His hand met the back of your head as he tried holding your head and burying your face, wanting nothing more but to comfort you

"You're too sweet for me.."

You mumbled between sobs, burying your face into him

"Sweet? I only got you a gift, liebe"

König laughed, his hands rubbing your back comfortingly as you pulled back to look at everything he did for you

Balloons filled with your favorite color, 5 expensive gifts you've been wanting, and an entire letter telling you how much he loved and adored you

"It was way more than a gift!" You exclaimed, now knowing you were going to have to best him next Valentines Day

You didn't take him seriously when he said he was going to make it the best one you've ever had and that only motivated him more

You pulled away and reread the letter, not a single lie in that letter as he listed everything from your head to your personality.

He told you why he fell in love and how, he told you what only made him fall deeper in love with you as time went on, only to end it off with an 'I love you'

you started crying again

[mellowwillowy]

A Husband Duty (GN, NSFW)

Instead of another normal love making session, you ask him to do more to you (FIC, junkie reader, IMG., more in Husband...)

—𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 - 𝑳𝑰𝒇𝑬 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕

Yan! Husband who just loves you so much that it turns into another worshipping session instead of fucking you raw without any condom on.

Yan! Husband who just eats you out / gives you head nonstop until you are overstimulated, the whole bed is wet with your cum and drool, his boxer drenched in cum as he ruts himself against the bed sheet.

Yan! Husband whose fingers teased the insides of your clenching hole, hitting that spot that makes your toes curl and eyes roll to the back. Yes, just loll out your tongue and he'll take it for granted with his mouth, sucking and licking it while he relishes in the way you whine.

Yan! Husband who will actually cum undone just from lapping up your sweet nectar, drinking it all like a thirsty man who is lost in the Sahara desert.

Yan! Husband who refuses any of your attempts in giving him head, nuh-uh, he wants to focus on you and you only. He is already wetting his boxer with his cum, what more do you want? Splatter it all over your face and hair? He'd be so fine with just your hole ♡

Yan! Husband whose cock twitches so much when it is only the tip that enters you, imagine the whole thing filling you full and deep, he is already shaking from the ejaculation, cumming deep inside you. Do you think he is done as a '5 second, take it or leave it?'

Yan! Husband who has a questionable way of ejaculating but his stamina is not to be doubted. He will pound himself deep into you while his sperm paints your insides white. Every time he pulls out, the cum would immediately pool out from your hole only to be refilled with another. (Honestly, as expected from someone inhumane)

Yan! Husband who will not stop kissing you, be it your face, lip, body, or anything as long as it's you. Can you imagine the amount of hickeys you'll be waking up to? These will surely show the servants and others just how cherished you are in his hand.

Yan! Husband who will coax more of your sweet moans, pushing your limit further with every session you have with him, yes, he will fuck you till the sun rises if you can accommodate to him. The idea of it makes his cock twitches again, he needs to be clamped tight by you.

Yan! Husband who will not stop abusing your sex, pleasuring you with his fingers as he gives you a second stimulation while he is still hammering his cock into you.

"W-why, why do you have so much c-cum, in you-!?"

"I don't know dear, maybe it's because of you. You are driving me nuts every day!"

Yulian is such a healthy man ^^ how much litter does he have left to fill you up? Ah, the bulge... it's so arousing to see your stomach bulging with his cock and cum.

Yan! Husband, the King of Aftercare, bathing you with the finest body care, roses floating while his face nuzzled up in your neck. Please, don't do anything you will regret, you don't want him to hammer his cock into you again, the whole bathtub might be his cum instead!

Yan! Husband who kisses you to sleep, letting you rest after hours of fucking you dumb. It seems like the euphoria is gone and he has regained his sanity, evident from how he's thinking how to cover all these hickeys and bite marks.

Yan! Husband who presses his lip to all those marks, kissing it better while occasionally licking some.

Maybe he shouldn't help you cover it after all.

[ablobwhowrites]

hear me out ahajhaj yandere howdy?

OR LIKE YANDERE WALLY

hear me out yandere welcome home neighbors, no mercy for m/n or gn y/n in this, we are going all the way gentlemen/my friends. Plus wally definitely doesn’t make paintings and drawings of you while he’s at home and has a shrine from all the stuff he stole and you have given him. And Eddie give you love letters he wrote for you. Frank would study the bugs or kind of flowers you like. Julie and poppy would make sweets for you. Howdy would have things you like in his shop and oddly you have never said anything to howdy but hey your favorite stuff is in his shop. A Barnaby would have you hangout and him being like the funcle like spirit, he’d talk about random shit with you…….and you always feel off when outside…..like something is staring at you even if no one is outside….always Wally’s house that was always off putting to you but hey at least your neighbors will never hurt you……right?

[criminalamnesia]

Simon x Reader whose already work with TF 141 for a pretty long time. And one day, there's a traitor around the base, leaking their information. All of the proof are leading to reader but reader always deny it! And they interrogated reader, and reader always deny it! And he's (with other 141 members, of course, but it mostly him) do their torture methods to get information out of reader. They keep doing it until someday, the real traitor finally captured!

And make the reader traumatized, pls. Like, she would have trust issues, trauma, and others. She wouldn't forgive them, tho.

ooooo the angst. had to sit on this one for a few days before I wrote something, but here goes nothing.

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

when you blink open your eyes, the room is dimly lit. it’s silent save for the sounds of your labored breathing.

you must’ve passed out. one second johnny— a man you’d known for years—was slicing into your skin with a knife. the next, you’re staring into an empty room.

your hands jerk up involuntarily. still bound. the rope holding them to the arms of the chair have rubbed them raw. the skin is bright red and bloody. it makes you grit your teeth.

you look down at your lap, taking inventory of the parts of your body you can see. large gashes break up the fabric of your tac pants. the blood surrounding the deep wounds is dry and crusty.

one of the cuts looks like it’s getting infected. you swear you can see bone.

you’d taken this kind of suffering before. been capture by enemies, held and tortured and pushed to the brink of death. this was different. this was being done by your team. men you’d bled with. cried with. laughed with.

one you’d even slept with. the same one you loved. the one you called yours.

the door to the room swung open, hitting the wall with a metal thud. your head slowly lifts, eyes squinting to see him. by his stature, you know it’s simon.

he doesn’t bother shutting the door behind him. instead, he walks towards you slowly. as he comes closer, can make out his eyes in the sea of dark paint he smears around them. the same paint you’d helped him apply a time or two.

“back for more?” you say, and it’s meant to sound sarcastic, but all it sounds like is pitiful. your voice cracks, and pain seeps into your tone.

the first rule they’d taught you about scenarios like this was to never let the enemy know it’s working. never let them know that they’re hurting you— that they’re slowly wearing down your defenses.

well, you’d just broken that rule, and you hadn’t even meant to.

you didn’t know how long you’d been tied up, subjected to torture by men you had once called your family. all because a fucking liar whispered your name into their ears. all because they fucking believed it.

apparently the years meant nothing to them. to him, least of all, considering he’d done more damage to you than the rest of them.

simon comes to a stop in front of you. his hands are empty by his sides, but that’s not reassuring. there’s a table full of weapons off to the side. he would have his pick of the litter.

“ready to talk yet?” he says, and his voice is gruff. his tone is hollow. he’s speaking to you the same way he’d spoken to countless enemies. it makes you sick.

“fuck you, simon,” you spit out.

the betrayal of john, gaz, and johnny had hurt. but simon’s betrayal? that was enough to almost put you in the ground.

you’d stopped pleading with them the second they tied you to the chair. now, you were angry. furious. rage filled your veins, and if you weren’t beaten to all hell, you’d find a way out of these fucking restraints and strangle the man in front of you to death.

the man you loved. you’d thought you meant something to him, but apparently not— because who tortures someone they love?

“if you talk,” he ignores your outburst. “it’ll be easier. quick.”

“fuck. you.” you enunciate the words, your jaw impossibly tight as you grit your teeth. “im not the fucking rat.”

“all the evidence,” he starts as he disappears from your vision. you know he’s going to pick his weapon of the hour. you force yourself not to shudder.

“points to you.”

“take that bullshit evidence and shove it up your ass, riley,” you seethe, ropes pulling taut as you lean forward in the chair.

he’s back in your line of sight now, brandishing a large knife.

“you’re only making it harder on yourself, love,” he tuts, and then he’s swinging the knife down, right onto one of your fingers.

you scream as the blade cuts right through skin and bone. your teeth dig into your lip, drawing blood as you refuse to give him more of a reaction. it fucking hurts, but you’ll be damned if you let yourself cry.

“feel like talking now?” he asks, watching as half of your left pinky finger falls to the floor.

“or should we take off another?”

you look up at him, hoping he can see the hatred in your eyes as you speak your next words. “you could take the fucking hand off and I’d still have nothing to tell you.”

“let’s see how true that is then, eh?” he replies, and raises the knife again. he’s about to swing, when someone comes running into the room.

“ghost!”

it’s johnny. he’s obviously winded as he stops beside simon, dropping his hands to his knees as he struggles for breath.

“what, mactavish? im busy.”

“they’re—” he gasps. “they’re not— the— rat.” he says between breaths.

the room goes impossibly still. so quiet you swear you could hear the men’s heartbeats (or maybe that pounding in your ears was your own).

“you sure?” simon’s voice is softer as he lowers the knife and turns to johnny. the younger man nods, his eyes trained on you. you can see the regret in them, the sorrow.

“it’s fucking shepard.”

it’s not funny, but at the news, you burst into laughter. the men stare at you in confusion, but you can’t stop.

you’re laughing so hard you’re crying, and they’re just standing there.

“are you alrigh’?” johnny’s asking as he moves towards you. he’s fully recovered his breath now, and he drops to a crouch to be eye level with you.

you don’t answer— you can’t. you keep laughing. distantly, you hear the knife simon was holding clatter to the ground. can just make out the sound of more footsteps out in the hallway, coming towards the room.

you pass out.

when you wake up again, you’re in the infirmary. your eyes open slowly, adjusting to the bright fluorescent lights.

“easy, love,” a voice to your right drawls.

your eyes are fully open now. you look down at yourself, noticing the lack of bindings. noticing the iv taped to your arm, the stitched cuts, the black and blue bruises, the missing fingernails and missing finger.

the person sitting next to you clears his throat. that’s when you look up and meet the eyes of your captain.

your captain. the man who was supposed to lead you, to keep you safe. what a fucking joke. he’d started the damn witch hunt.

“how d’you feel?” he asks, his words soft, like he’s trying not to scare off a timid animal.

you stare at him for a beat. then two. then you’re moving, pulling the iv from your arm and shakily pushing yourself up in the bed. price is telling you to stop, reaching out to push you back down, but you slap at his hands.

“get the fuck off me!” you shout, and that takes him aback. he stops, frozen, as he watches you shift in the bed. you throw your legs over the side of it and prepare yourself to stand.

“you really shouldn’t—” he begins after he’s regained his senses, but you pay him no mind. you place your feet on the ground and start to stand. your legs wobble, almost give out, but you’re able to stand. barely.

“shut up,” you growl, stumbling forward and towards the exit. he’s moving to cut you off, and you slide him a gaze that’s sharper than a knife. “and leave me the fuck alone.”

he halts again. he seems almost scared of you— but that can’t be right. even on your best days, he would still beat you in hand-to-hand combat.

he’s not scared of your threats or your frail body. he’s scared of what he’s done to you.

just then, johnny and gaz come through the infirmary doors.

“cap, y’alright? we heard yellin’—” johnny begins, but his mouth snaps shut at the sight of you out of bed.

you’re heaving from your spot next to the bed. your legs are shaking violently, threatening to give out any second. you feel nauseous and numb.

“let’s get you back into bed,” gaz says, and he starts towards you, but you stop him as your gaze snaps to his.

“don’t come any fucking closer. any of you.”

“bonnie,” johnny murmurs. he sounds miserable, but you don’t care. don’t give a fuck about how any of them feel.

“don’t. im leaving,” you grunt out, moving a foot forward slowly. you’d be damned if you fell in front of them.

“you can’t, love. you’re in no shape to be walking.” john says, and you snarl.

“and whose fault is that?”

the men stay silent as they watch you slowly shuffle towards the foot of the bed. you’re bracing yourself to walk on your own when simon walks in.

“get back in bed,” his tone is blunt. you ignore him.

you remove your hand from the bed, move to take a step forward without support, and you begin to crumple to the floor.

simon moves forward, quick as a cat, and catches you. he lifts you into his arms bridal style, and you’re screaming hysterically. your limbs are flailing the best they can in such a battered state. you’re in fight-or-flight mode, your body betraying your desire to put up a steely front.

your palms slap against simon’s upper body and his masked face. he gives no reaction. he doesn’t say anything. the others are watching the exchange silently. the room is buzzing with tension.

“get off me!” you screech, landing a slap to simon’s cheek. “let me— let me go! let me go!” you’re gasping for breath, tears streaming down your cheeks. you’re panicking. your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest.

“put me down! get— get— off me! stop—” you sob.

the doctor rushes into the room then, yelling at the men for allowing you out of bed. you can’t make out what she’s saying over the rush of blood in your ears. you feel light-headed. you can’t breathe.

“put them down, now!” the doctor yells at simon. “they’re having a panic attack— I thought I told you four to stay away from them? they’re too vulnerable right now—” the doctor is chastising them as simon places you back in the bed.

spots are dancing in your vision. you don’t even feel it when the doctor sticks another needle into your arm. the words being exchanged above your head are muffled. it’s like you’re underwater.

john’s face comes into view, then johnny’s, then gaz’s. as your eyes start to close, you notice the only face you don’t see again is simon’s.

when you wake up again, it’s been two weeks.

the doctor had put you into a medically induced coma to allow your more serious wounds time to heal, without risking another episode. unbeknownst to you, the members of your team had stayed by your bedside almost the entire time— minus simon. he hadn’t come within ten feet of the infirmary since the day of your panic attack.

there’s fresh flowers on the bedside table. a steady beeping of the heart monitor. a fuzzy feeling in your head.

it feels like a dream, all of it does. none of it feels real as you settle into your body again. but then the hurt starts, and you remember the truth.

your family betrayed you. your lover betrayed you. they locked you up and tortured you. they didn’t believe you.

when the doctor came to your side to check your iv, she smiled.

“how’re you feeling?”

you look up at her, and it takes a moment for you to speak.

“don’t,” you begin. your mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. “don’t let them…in here. don’t…wanna see them.”

the doctor nods in understanding, and she doesn’t say anything else to you. she turns and walks out of the room.

the door clicks shut behind her. she lets out a sigh before turning around to face the three men.

“they don’t want to see you.” she tells them, and their expressions drop. they don’t protest, and like wounded puppies, they walk off.

no one else comes to check on you for a few hours.

you’re in and out of consciousness— can’t tell what’s real and what’s a dream. flashes of your torture come back to you. flashes of a smile. of a scarred face. of hands on your hips and—

you crack your eyes open, and the room is dark. the only light is the blinking of some of the machines. it illuminates the room enough to allow you to see a large, dark figure slip from the room. the door clicks shut so quietly it’s almost imperceptible.

that’s when you notice fresh flowers on the bedside table.

your eyes start to droop once more, and you chalk up whatever you just saw to a dream, while simon exhales heavily on the other side of the infirmary door.

————————————————

authors note:

I hope this alright! it’s one in the morning (and I’m half asleep writing this) so I apologize for the errors that are most likely present, and the sense this most likely lacks. I feel like I could write a whole book about this idea, but im cutting myself off to sleep lol.

thank you for the ask, I hope I did your idea justice. 🫶

[sweetheartmotives]

🌊Yandere Deep Diver🌊

Desc and possible Tw: Yandere themes, Breeding, Sexual themes, Deep waters, sirens, mentions of physical and mental pain.

Let me know if I missed any!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

••Yandere Deep Diver who… was alerted that one of the cameras was broken in the deep waters and was sent to check it out.

• Yandere Deep Diver who… finds lil ol' you snapping apart the ocean camera.

• Yandere Deep Diver who… just stares at you dumbfounded.

A merperson? In front of me? This has to be a dream.. there's no way…

• Yandere Deep Diver who… finally snaps out of their trance when a fellow Deep diver shoots a spear at you.

• Yandere Deep Diver who… heard your pain-filled scream. It hurt. Not just physically, but mentally too. Why did they feel this way?

• Yandere Deep Diver who… saw you swim away, taking the camera with you.

• Yandere Deep Diver who… found themselves dreaming about you.

Am I cursed?

• Yandere Deep Diver who… was obsessed with finding you again. Everything about you was so intoxicating.. Your looks, your voice the one they made up after they heard your scream

• Yandere Deep Diver who… was sailing to their next diving spot. It was night, Exactly 9:03 pm. Everyone was sleeping, They had places to be of course.

• Yandere Deep Diver who… heard singing.. no wait Your singing..

• Yandere Deep Diver who… found you with your other sirens, sitting on a large rock, Singing to the captain.

• Yandere Deep Diver who… falls into a trance.

• Yandere Deep Diver who… Wakes up. Apparently, the other divers found them passed out.

• Yandere Deep Diver who… saw you. In a large tank, They Caught you.

• Yandere Deep Diver who… spends more and more time by your tank. Promising unreal things such as marriage, living together, etc.

• Yandere Deep Diver who… was told long ago why they had a large tank. The captain wanted to catch a large octopus, wanted to show off or something. They don't care, they have you now.

• Yandere Deep Diver who… fights anyone who gets too close to your tank.

Get away from them.

• Yandere Deep Diver who… does whatever you please. Just don't ask them to release you. They get very, very angry and start yelling.

• Yandere Deep Diver who… wants to become a siren themselves or make you a human.

My siren.. is it possible to make me a siren? Why? I want to spend the rest of my days with you, and only you ♡

• Yandere Deep Diver who… wants to breed you. Doesn't matter your gender. They want to fill you to the brim, Yet they cannot touch you :(

My siren… I wish for us to be close.. Why must you Bite me everytime I come near?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian the Diver has been turning my brain into mush… I was originally going to make another part for Yandere Bartender, and I still will ofc! But I had to get them out of my head..

Anyways, got off topic! I hope you enjoy reading, as I enjoyed writing!! :3

[ghouljams]

The Ghost distribution system... He really is like a stray cat, or a bear that learns minivans have food in them, he just keeps coming back no matter how many times you try to send him on his way. It doesn't matter how it happens but any scrap of kindness and he just determines he's going to attach himself to you.

Maybe he offers you a hand moving your couch when he passes your place and hears you swearing. You offer him dinner and Ghost has never been the sort to turn down a free meal, so he sticks around. It's weird that he doesn't even pretend to refuse, just takes you up on it immediately and even offers to help cook. You send him home and he's... there again the next day, waiting on your doorstep with a box of pasta asking if you could do anything with it. He's going to come back, he's going to keep coming back.

Maybe it's from meeting you at a bar. He's the biggest guy you can grab when your ex walks in, and somehow he seems approachable despite... well, everything about him. Fake boyfriend for a few hours at the bar is one thing, having him show up the next day to fix your sink because you mentioned offhandedly that it was leaking the night before is another. Having him sit in your kitchen and peal an orange for you because you said you were hungry is really driving home that this guy isn't leaving.

Hell maybe it's just a one night stand that never seems to end. You wake up and Ghost has already made breakfast. The two of you sit at your little table and eat quietly, Ghost scrolling his phone while you eye him warily, trying to figure out his game. He asks what you want to do today and somehow you can't find the right way to ask when he's planning on going home. He just sort of moves in, you realize he's printed a key for himself while you're grabbing groceries. It's nice he offers to pay, but you don't know when having him around became your normal.

Ghost sees you, he wants you, you're his. He's not leaving, he'll come back. He knows that this house has food and warmth, he knows that families forget to tie their trash up off the ground. He's a man of instinct, and you are going to be his perfect match.

[earthtooz]

x : LUNCH BREAK :*+ﾟ

in which: you don't visit wriothesley during his lunch break after last night's argument, so he goes to the court of fontaine just to see you.

warnings: approx. 1.9k words, PURE FLUFF, gn!reader x pathetic and soppy and lovesick wriothesley, canon setting, reader works at the court of fontaine, post-argument so very minimal angst, probs not in character LOL

a/n: there's not a lot of content regarding fontaine or wriothesley rn so i apologise if this isn't completely in character. what i do not apologise for, however, is the urge to make him as lovesick as possible.

There is a notable tension in the Fortress of Meropide, and although a prison isn’t a place for rainbows and sunshine, today it feels especially devastating. It seems that the lord of the prison is the one responsible for it.

Brooding at his desk, Wriothesley glances occasionally at the clock on his desk, growing more and more impatient with each document he has to read through. He is waiting for something: a knock on his door. He is waiting for the call of his name, the reason for their interruption, then your name will reach his ears and an unmatched excitement will bloom in his chest. Then you’ll slip through the doors with lunch for two, he’ll pull out a chair for you right beside him, and mask professionalism that betrays the eagerness your presence always brings out. 

Your absence must be because of the argument that happened last night. One that remained unresolved because he went to bed before you, too furious to try to talk it out. Yet, when Wriothesley woke in the morning, a wave of guilt washed over him when you weren’t pressed against him like usual. Instead, you were on the other side of the mattress, further than an arm’s length away whilst turned away from him and Fontaine’s chilly mornings had never felt colder.

If he didn’t need to go to work much earlier than you, he would have waited until you had woken up to leave, but being the lord of the Fortress of Meropide meant that his presence was demanded. So, with a lingering kiss to your cheek and then your temple, he leaves into the dewy mornings of Fontaine, looking forward to his lunch break that the two of you often share together.

Except now, lunch is almost over and there hasn’t been a knock on his door. No one has called his name- not people he cared about, at least. You haven’t slipped through the heavy set of doors. You haven’t come down from the Court of Fontaine to visit him, and Wriothesley’s patience is thinning.

His fingers itch with the need to hold you, to tuck you close to his chest and just keep you there for a few moments as time pass by. Especially after last night, Wriothesley needs you now more than ever. 

By the time there’s only one hour left in the work day, he snaps. Stands up from his seat with an unmatched sense of fervour because of the unnervingly quiet day and snatches his coat from the hanger, leaving documents unread as he makes a beeline for the exit of the prison. The guards listen attentively to Wriothesley’s final commands for the day in his absence and once the information is cemented, the dark-haired is off without another second wasted.

You, on the other hand, sit in your office drowned in piles upon piles of papers. Wriothesley is a passing thought every now and then, the memories of last night’s harsh argument settling like weights in your stomach. You miss Wriothesley, very dearly, and all you want is to settle things with him. However, the image of his furious eyes and clenched jaw terrifies you beyond belief, you’re not even sure if he’ll be calmer by the time you get home, so for the first time ever, you dread the idea of going home. 

What you are completely unaware of, however, is your lover that is storming your way, desperate to receive the medicine that will cure his moodiness and irritation. 

The knock on your door distracts you from the piles of papers on your desk. 

“Who is it?” you call out, voice reverberating around the spaciousness of your office.

“It’s Wriothesley, can I come in?” His tone is sharp and leaves no room for you to reject him, but the mere sound of his voice causes you to stiffen, grip on your pen tightening as the papers before you lay forgotten. 

What is Wriothesley doing here? He normally never comes up to the Court of Fontaine just to see you because leaving the prison would be far too neglectful. There was also half an hour before he was done for the day, so could there be official business that needs to be discussed? Something urgent, perhaps? 

If it was urgent, then why come to you and not Monsieur Neuvillette- or even Lady Furina?

“Yeah- yes, you can come in,” you mutter.

When the door clicks open, Wriothesley practically barges through, door shutting behind him as he marches towards you. Getting up from your chair, you’re frightened with anticipation due to  how intense his stance is. 

“Is something the matter?” You begin, panic seeping into your voice as he pauses before you, determination setting his eyes ablaze as he eyes you down like prey. “Wriothesley, you’re scaring me, did something happen at the prison-”

“Where were you at lunch?” He demands.

You blink. “Excuse me?”

“Why didn’t you come visit?” 

“Is… is why you came up here? To ask why I didn’t visit you during lunch?”

He nods, expression stern as usual save for a small pout.

“I was swamped with work,” you half-lie, gesturing to the desk behind you and although there is clear evidence on your table through the form of stacked folders and paper, a storm of uncertainty brews in his blue eyes. “I couldn’t visit if I wanted to get these done, I apologise.”

The dark-haired frowns. “Is that it?”

“Yes. That’s all.” His eyebrows furrow, creating crease marks in his forehead that you want to kiss away, alleviating his worries, but you hold yourself back from doing so in fear that Wriothesley does not want you touching him. 

However, a switch is flicked when Wriothesley’s stern expression softens, melting into one resembling a kicked dog. “So you’re not upset with me?” 

“Oh, is that also on your mind?”

“Of course, I don’t like it when you’re upset with me,” your lover mutters, looking away bashfully to conceal the reddening of his cheeks. “You aren’t though, right?”

“No, not upset. Scared, maybe, but definitely not upset.” 

His eyes are glossy when he looks back at you. “Scared, why are you scared?” 

“W-we didn’t end on a good note last night,” you rub your wrist nervously. “I didn’t know if you would be happy with seeing me. On top of that, you can be really intimidating sometimes, so admittedly, I was a little scared to come see you just in case that you did not want me there.”

Wriothesley visually deflates with your last statement, shoulders dropping and eyes glistening as he murmurs a small, pathetic, “is that so?”

He wonders what part about him ever made it seem like he never wants you beside him, and the thought that he had frightened you enough to prevent you visiting him is an upsetting one. You must see it in his eyes with the way you frantically begin to explain yourself. 

“Oh no, darling, I didn’t mean it like that-”

He turns his head away again, disappointed in himself. It’s one thing for his prisoners to consider him intimidating but it’s another for you, his own lover, to think so as well, and the thought that he had scared you creates insurmountable shame to swell within him. Yet, his whirlwind of anxieties ceases when your hand goes to cup his cheek, gently prompting him to look at you. Then, a kiss is pressed to the corner of his lips, and his heart skips a beat at the sensation, love blocking his airways when you pull away to smile up at him. 

“As scary as you might be, oh great lord of the Fortress of Meropide, I also know you will never hurt me,” you reassure. “Rather, I feel safest when I’m around you, please never doubt that.”

Wriothesley sighs, hand snaking up to grip your waist and pull you closer to him. “Thank you, my love. But I beg, even if you assume I am upset with you, please keep visiting my office during lunch, it is the part of the day I look forward to most.”

“If that is your request then maybe you just need to be good and listen to me instead of arguing until your head pops off,” you tease, patting his face twice and he huffs before muttering an ‘understood’. Anything to see you. “Is there something else you need from my office?”

“No, just wanted to see you,” he looks at the brown paper bag in his hands. “I brought you lunch, just in case you didn’t eat.” 

“Wriothesley,” you melt, “how thoughtful of you. I’ll make sure to eat it when I finish reading those contracts.”

“You should eat now, though. Don’t drown yourself in work, it’s not healthy.”

“I wish it were that easy, but these piles were dumped on my desk this morning and were assigned to be done by the end of the week.”

The hand that was on your waist comes up to gently hover over your cheek and Wriothesley studies you, icy eyes hardening due to the fatigue present in your expression. You grab his wrist, trying to diverge his attention, but you should know better than assuming that your wellbeing isn’t of utmost importance to him. “Unacceptable, I should have a word with your supervisor-”

“-no, no, Wriothesley! I insist, this is manageable.”

He frowns, deep and serious before surrendering to your pleas. “Fine, but if it doesn’t get better by the end of the week, then I will be interfering.”

“If you do so, my supervisor will be too scared to come in for a month,” you squeeze his wrist and gently guide it away from your face, ignorant to how your neglect for your own health hurts Wriothesley as well. He knows you love your job, but he still thinks that you deserve to live life carefree, that you should get everything you want without ever lifting a finger. “It’s alright, dear, you mustn’t worry about me when your work is a thousand times more stressful.”

“Impossible.” He worries about you every second of the day. Telling Wriothesley to stop fretting over you would be like telling him to stop breathing. “Now eat.” 

You yelp when he pulls you towards your chair, sitting you down. From the paper bag, he takes out a sandwich, one that you recognise is from one of fontaine’s favourite cafés, and he carefully unwraps it before raising it to your mouth.

“Wriothesley… this is a little embarrassing,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around yourself.

He doesn’t say anything, just persistently stares at you, gaze intense enough for you to give in. As you lean in to take the first bite, you are bashfully looking away from your lover, who wears a pleased expression, satisfied with the fact that you’re letting him take care of you. 

The tension from last night’s dispute hasn’t completely melted away, there are still things that need to be discussed calmly, but as you keep trying to push his hand away and battle Wriothesley’s indestructible stubbornness, he knows it will work out in the end. You love him and he loves you, and if you ever forget to visit him during lunch break again, then he’ll have to tear himself away from the prison and come up, just to meet you.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[emmyrosee]

I DONT WANT TO HEAR A PEEP-

——-

“‘Kuna?”

“Go away.”

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

“I barely tolerate you as a human, you want me to tolerate you as a literal pesk?”

You jaw drops as Sukuna continues to play his game, thumbs tapping expertly on the controller as the violence breaks out on screen. He’s propped on his pillows while you’re curled into his side, the heat from his body sticky and warm as you use his chest as a pillow to thumb through your phone.

Only slightly hurt now that he’s mentioned he wouldn’t like you still.

“I bet yuuji would still like me,” you grumble.

“To be frank, I don’t really care what yuuji does.”

If he didn’t want you to see the way his jaw ticked at the mention of his brother, he did a poor job of it.

You notice it. And of course, you smirk as you sit up to prod him more.

“I bet he’d pick me up in a little leaf, carry me home and put me in a little tank,” you begin. “I bet he’d hand feed me fruit to my little mouth and make me such a happy worm.”

“Well then why don’t you go fuckin’ date yuuji then?” He snarls, motioning at the door. “Since he’d just love you so much.”

“I don’t want to date yuuji,” you pout back. “I want to date you. I love you. Even if you don’t love me-“

“For fucks sake-“ he pauses his game and, before you can ask, he flips you onto your back, straddling you and gripping your shoulders. He shakes you, and you squeal as he does.

“Yes, I’d still like you. Yes, I’d build you a stupid little cage. Yes I’d charge people to come look at you. Yes I’d feed you fruit, and yes I’d pet you every day. Yes. Yes. A million times yes, fucking let me play in peace.” With each few words, he pulls your shoulders up before slamming them back down into the bed, the springs bouncing you back into his hands.

“‘Kuna!” You giggle, your arms bending at the elbow to make minimal distance between you and your man, and despite the annoyance he wishes to convey, there’s a cheesy smile on his face, brows furrowed in focus and chest heaving from his speech and the act of bouncing you so intensely. He stops with a sigh, sitting up straight and smoothing his hair back.

“You’re such a fuckin’ nuisance,” he insults.

You smile and sit up to meet his face, cupping it in your hands to guide him into a kiss. He scoffs before ultimately leaning down to comply.

“Im your nuisance,” you mewl, giggling against his lips.

“Sadly.”

[selineram3421]

здраствуйте можно сделать реакцию на ревность аластора

Translated:

Hi, can I get a reaction to Alastor's jealousy?

Yes.

Jealousy Headcanons

Alastor X Reader

Warning! ⚠

⚠ platonic to romantic, violence, all caps in bold italics = SOUND EFFECTS, implied torture/murder, gore? eyeballs, possessive? Alastor wants all of your attention ⚠

Alastor has never felt jealous! How absurd of you to think that! Hahaha! Ha... Who is that demon taking up your attention?

He always had your attention.

You could be talking to the Princess but still focus on him.

Hell, you could be checking in a guest and still keep up with his tale of the day.

But now it was quite odd.

There was a demon coming by the hotel, not to see if they were interested in the cause but to use up his friend's precious time.

Even now the beastly thing walked up to the check in counter and started up a conversation with you.

He watched from the bar.

"Hey! I see its dead as ever in here.", the dragon demon grinned as they leaned on the counter.

"Not true~", you had replied. "I checked in four new guests!"

Yes, you had a knack of persuasion. Able to convince many to do almost anything. Sometimes even him.

"Oh yeah? How many sinners walked in?", the scaled creature leaned close.

Far too close for his liking.

"I just told you how many.", you replied and placed a finger on the dragon's snout, pushing them back as well. "Personal space."

He didn't like this demon.

Everything about them set something off. Their manners, their way of speaking, the way they move-

"Oh come on, I don't bite sugar cake~", the beast took your hand and kissed their way up to your elbow.

The way they t̵̬̥̻͂̿̈́ȏ̴̒͠u̸c̷̈́̊̆́̓͘h̷e̴̖̖͒̓͂͋̎ḑ̴̣̋͜ you.

"Nope!", you yanked your arm away and held it close. "None of that.", you laughed nervously with an uncomfortable smile.

It looked wrong. Your smile should be a happy one.

"I said I don't bite!", they laughed and tried to grab at your arm again. "You know I'm messing! When's your break?", they leaned over the counter, still trying to get at something to pull you closer. "I know a good bar to go to, or we can go to the club! I'd like to see your ass in something a little less-"

"Ew, no.", you rejected and backed away.

"Come on!", they started to climb on the counter. "Its just one time! I'll even help you get in and out of your clothes.", they grabbed onto your sleeve.

That's ENOUGH!

He quickly shadow traveled and snatched the wrist of the dragon.

"I believe they said no."

The beast growled with a sneer before looking at him, freezing up once realizing who had their wrist.

"I was just joking man. Haha..", the dragon looked between him and you. "I understand! I'll back away. The slut is yours."

"Excuse me!?", you said angrily.

His antlers grew, the low static that hummed now raising up in volume.

"₵₳ⱤɆ ₮Ø ⱤɆ₱Ɇ₳₮ ₮Ⱨ₳₮?"

"The slut-"

SNAP

He held the demon's snout shut as they screamed and cried over their broken wrist.

"Now, there is a no killing rule in the hotel.", he said and then grinned menacingly. "But that doesn't apply outside."

His smile widened after seeing the panic in their eyes.

"Dear.", he turned to face you. "Has this guest overstayed their welcome?"

You stared at the beast with such a terrifyingly hateful glare.

"Yes they have.", you replied, crossing your arms. "I'd like to keep a souvenir, for memories."

And then you gave him that lovely smile.

"Alastor, do you think you could get me a dragon eye or two? I hear they make nice details to things."

"I'll make sure to get them.", he released the demon, only for his tendrils to take hold of them. "I won't be long.", he reassured, lifting up your hand to kiss the back of it.

He saw you blush before he 'escorted' the demon outside.

After finishing up (and calling Niffty to clean up), he returned with two freshly picked dragon eyes.

You thanked him with an odd little gleam in your eyes. No doubt your mind jumping idea to idea of what you could create with them.

Now with the pest gone, he would have your attention again.

Just like he wanted

"Thank you Alastor. I'll be able to make something interesting with these."

"I can't wait to see what you make this time."

Perhaps he'll ask you that question sooner than later.

Of course he has to prepare everything to properly court you.

I am using a website to translate requests. Please let me know if I have translated anything wrong.

~Seline, the person.

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ML for Alastor🎙