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yandere-writer-momo · 3 months

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Part 2 🖤I made the demon king a black man. I don’t see many Yandere POC OCs 🖤

Yandere Head Canons:

Defying Destiny

Yandere Demon King x Isekai Saintess Reader x Yandere Hero (mentioned)

TW: imprisonment, kidnapping, stalking, uncomfortable themes, sexual themes, Somniaphilia, Dacryphilia, etc.

Part 1

You woke up wrapped in the silk sheets of snow unfamiliar bed. Your eyes wild and your heart raced in your chest like a startled animal. Where were you and where was Reinhardt?! Why were there candles everywhere in this dark bedroom? Was Reinhardt planning to… oh god you were terrified.

You felt a sob rack through you when reality set in. Had Reinhardt stolen you away to live out some sort of sick fantasy instead of going through with his quest to slay the demon king? No… Reinhardt wouldn’t bring you to such a luxurious home. But who on earth brought you here?

“I see you’re awake, my delicate flower.” Your head snapped to the doorway to see the silhouette of a large man. You felt your blood run cold and a shiver run down your spine by his presence. That raspy baritone voice belonged to a stranger.

You flinched when the man suddenly slapped his clawed hands on the end of the king sized bed. Your eyes met gold for the first time and you seeped your heart stopped in your chest from pure terror. There was no mistaking who your captor was… he was the demon king.

“What’s the matter, saintess?” He chuckled as he reached a taloned finger out to hook around a strand of your hair. “Cat got your tongue?”

You felt tears stream down your cheeks when he flashed his long fangs at you. He was bewitchingly beautiful with his burnt umber skin and golden eyes. There was no doubt he was a demon and that fact terrified you. What did he want from you? Was he… was he going to kill you?

The demon king sighed at your shivering form before he moved himself to sit beside you. His hand moved to hold yours. “It’s alright, darling. I’m not going to hurt you.”

You sniffled when he began to wipe away your tears. “W… what?”

“I’d never hurt my saintess.” The demon king gave you a toothy smile. “My beautiful, merciful saintess… my salvation.”

You gasped when he brought your right hand up to his lips to press a tender kiss to the back of it. “It’s so wonderful to finally have you here with me… you’ll be safe here.”

“I’m just a bit confused about all of this…” You felt so small under his intense gaze, like he was about to pounce on you at any second. “Who are you and why have you taken me?”

The demon lord chuckled as he rose up from the bed to stand at his full, intimidating height. His curved black horns nearly added another foot to his height which made he give you a smirk. “Why I am the Demon King but you can call me Amon.”

The demon king- no, Amon, bowed his head to you. “And I took you to save you.”

You were surprised to see a tray of freshly made food in front of you when Amon snapped his fingers. Your stomach growled at the delicious sight, but you were hesitant to accept… Amon quickly caught onto your hesitance and took a bite of the food for you. “Don’t worry, it’s real and completely edible. Only the best for my saintess.”

You shyly took a bite and smiled at the taste. It was lovely…

Amon smiled warmly at you, his golden eyes studied your satisfied smile in pure joy. He was so happy to please you!

Amon ran his talons through his long black hair with a smile. “I’ll take care of you from now on. You’re safe here.”

As the weeks melted into months, Amon kept his word. None of his demon nor monster henchmen were mean towards you, unlike the hero’s party. Sure Amon was never far from you, but his company was much preferred over Reinhardt’s. Amon would bring you meals and made sure you had fresh clothes. He pampered you like a beloved pet.

Though it was never officially stated, you were Amon’s lover. And thus, you treated as such by his subjects. They’d wait for you on hand and foot. You received various expensive clothing and jewelry, they were eager to make you smile. It was such a stark contrast compared to your treatment prior…

You often gazed out your window at the volcanic city below. It was fascinating just how different monsters and demons lived from humans… so why did the humans want to destroy them so much?

You jumped when Amon entered the room to wrap his muscular arms around your waist, his nose pressed onto your shoulder. A few of his box braids tickled your skin. “I missed you so much… I just wish the humans would leave us alone. I grow tired of the hero and his party. They’re so much weaker without your barriers and healing. To think they never treated you well. What a bunch of losers.”

You turned to gaze at Amon in interest. “What is it that they’re after? Why do the humans hate your people so much?”

Amon gave you the softest of smiles, a bit of his fangs peaked out from under his lip. “Our magic stones. Monsters and demons produce enough magic stones to fuel humanity for eons… they’re worth a lot of money to humans.”

Amon pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder, his gold eyes stared expectantly up at you. “You’re the only human to ever question their greed and motives. You don’t wish to be bound to a destiny thrust upon you by the world.”

Amon bent down on one knee and pressed his lips over your palms and fingers. “Join me. Together we can defy our destiny. You don’t have to be a Saintess forced to marry the hero and I won’t have to be a page in the history books.”

You felt a blush on your cheeks when he tilted his handsome face at you. “Let’s watch the world burn together.”

And now you had a choice to make. To fulfill the destiny predetermined for you or to defy your destiny.

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dante-mightdie · 7 days

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I’m sorry but I must share—what would you think of Cult-leader! Price who finds a distraught, bruised and bloodied reader who ran away from home and takes her to his warm lodge to nurse her back to health and feed her. The poor thing looked like a frightened doe as he found her and he merely wanted to help her but the longer she stayed with the tight-knit community in the depths of the woods the more harder it is to leave. After reader feels more better and wants to take off, she tries to phone her family/friends yet there is no service. Price tells her that unfortunately the service cables were destroyed by a Wilde moose or something and that it would take three weeks or so til the repairmen come. He still offers her to stay longer in his lodge—of course sooner expecting her to help out. Afterall, he provided her with shelter and food, it’s the least she could do. Days pass in a blur and the longer reader stays the lodge the more she starts to forget why she even was stuck here in the first place. What seemed at first as unusual, like the weird nightly feasts that Price and his people make, becomes a familiar tradition of sorts. It’s tradition—he assures. It’s status quo and all the other weirdly hunts that they make at every full moon are only a friendly little game—nothing serious. Or so Reader is fed to belief. It’s not until reader herself gets caught up in all the festivities and rituals that she becomes the very prey that Price hunts each full moon. Only that this time the sacrifice won’t be small pesky rodents but reader herself. As reader is the perfect fit to Price’s family. The mother of his loyal cult. Soft and pliant and perfectly ripe for such role.

Anyways—these worms have been wringling in my mind all day. Ty for letting me get this off of my chest.

Ps: Love your writing, ty for your previous brainrot <3.

no but just imagine him chasing you through the woods <3333

c/w: kidnapping, cult dynamics, predator/prey, dub-con, non-con, p-in-v sex, no prep penetration, dacryphilia, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth

gets you all prettied up in a long red dress, telling you it’s all part of the tradition but you seem to be the only one wearing red. he keeps you sat besides him the whole night, ignoring your worried complaints about the uncanny smiles every one is sending your way

he keeps a hand planted on your thigh the entire time, thumb soothing over your skin as he offers you slow-cooked meats and sweet wine. and when the full moon rolls around and john drags you to the edge of the forest with an excited grin on his face, it finally clicks what his plans are

he keeps you locked in his arms whilst his hands feel up and down your waist, over your hips and ass. grunts and heavy groans filling your ears as his lips brush over the skin. “don’t worry, sweetheart. we won’t be apart for long.”

he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, breathing in your scent. “I’ll find ya nice and easy then we can get to work on continuing my legacy. have ya knocked up in no time, baby…”

he gives his people some long speech about family and responsibility, bloodlines and destiny. about how it’s time he settled down and had a brood of children of his own to carry on everything he has built. the whole time he has you pinned against him, your back to his chest. no one notices the way he pulls his cock out just enough to tap the tip against your puffy folds before tucking himself away

he gives you a 15 minute headstart, you spend the first few minutes still stood at the tree line. you begged and pleaded with him not to do this but he just laughed and began putting on some form of tac-gear. you eventually took off running after 5 minutes, your vision blurred by the darkness of the night

if your heavy breathing and panting didn’t give away your location, then your constant stumbling over would. you could hear twigs breaking and animals rustling around in every direction but you couldn’t see more than a few centimetres in front of your face

you clutch the lace fabric of your skirt, your feet dredging through the mud until you hear and feel them splash against the tide of some body of water. you squeak loudly when your feel the icy cold temperature frost your skin

you crouch down, collecting some of the water and splashing it on your face in an attempt to calm your breathing. the adrenaline courses through your veins as your eyes dart around, unable to make anything out in the night

you spend the next few hours wandering around blindly, an impending sense of doom building up under your skin with each passing hour in which the sun doesn’t rise. you stop to catch your breath, kneeling in the earth below you. your nails dig into your thighs over the material of your dress, your eyes still struggling to make out your nearby surroundings

your breath still when you hear a twig crunch a few feet to your left, muscles freezing when you try and listen out for your surroundings. your heart thumps loudly in your chest whilst your nails dig into the earth below you. there’s nothing but a few seconds of silence before you hear footsteps rushing towards you in quick succession

there’s no time for you to scream when a large hand, wrapped in a tactical glove, covers your mouth and squeezes your jaw closed. the darkness impairing your vision meant you were forced to only be able to feel as you are manhandled into a crude position

his mean grip entangled with your hair keeps you pinned to the ground, your cheek smushed into the cold surface of the earth. you feel rocks and gravel digging into the skin of your knees, engraving their shape into your flesh. you thrash and kick in his grip but he keeps you firmly pinned, his crotch pressed against your bare cunt when he takes his hand off of your mouth to tear the flimsy fabric of your dress off

the bitter chill of the night attacks your skin instantly, making you whine out when you feel goosebumps begin to prickle all over your body

“quit yer squirmin’, woman. only makes me ‘arder when you grind against my cock like that.” he grunts in your ear, bucking his hips against your ass. you sob and squirm, trying to break free except you only end up pushing yourself further back against his throbbing erection

he wastes no time unzipping his cargos, the smell of smoky sweet tobacco filling your nostrils. a pleasant change from the dry dirt you were smelling before. he doesn’t bother undoing the top button of his pants, reaching into the open zip and pulling his cock out. he lets it fall against your wet cunt with a small plap

he wraps one arm around your hips from behind, using his other to pull your upper body up to slot right against the uncomfortable feeling of his tactical gear. he does this just so he can plant his hand right back over your mouth before bending you back over onto your hands and knees

“yer gonna make such a beautiful mother to my family. aren’t ya, darlin’?” his words drown out your muffled protests, his hips sloppily grinding against your ass. his cock slipping between your folds, nudging against your clenching hole each time

“gonna keep yer belly round ‘nd yer tits leaking for at least the next 5 years, dovie…” he groans, jumping you from behind like a feral dog in heat. his lips whispering filthy things in your ear, promises of knocking you up and talks of twins

he lets out the human equivalent to a howl when his hips finally manage to angle his cock right enough to breach past your slippery hole, sliding all the way to the hilt with one easy thrust. the bush of curls decorating the base of his cock tickle your folds when he grinds into you, adjusting your hole to the stretch

his hands switch positions, one tangling itself into your hair and the other pinning both of your wrists to the small of your back. your upper body is suspended in mid-air as he begins a brutal pace of thrusts, leaving your mouth uncovered so he can listen to your pleasured wails

the quiet forest is filled with the sound of wild nightlife and the rhythmic pap pap pap of johns ballsack colliding with your clit. your tits bounce with the force of each thrust as you sob out, “please, john! please…!”

he shushes you, yanking on your hair slightly like tugging on the reins of a wild horse. he lets out a deep chuckles, looking down to watch his meaty cock slide in and out of your drooling pussy. “don’t worry, dolly. been preparing for this ever since you landed on my doorstep. wanked my cock every night thinkin’ about filling you up.”

he stops his words to let out a deep growl when he feels your walls clamp down tight against him, “didn’t cum once. saved it all for you, darlin’. nothing more important to me than giving you a few of my brats to take care of…”

you can feel his precum spilling into your womb, the warm feeling beginning to spread throughout your gut. he takes his hand out of your hair only to deliver a sharp slap to your ass before returning it to its former place

“gonna spend the rest of this full moon splitting you open on my cock, little lamb. then once yer good and bred, I’ll take you home and treat you exactly how my wife deserves to be treated…”

cut to nine months later, you’re sat up in bed on a warm summer’s night. two healthy, chubby babies asleep against your chest whilst your husband, john, brushes your sweaty hair back from your forehead

there’s a content smile on your face as you coo slightly down at your newborn twins, your voice still hoarse from your recent labour :(

#mw2 #cod mw2 #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #price x reader #captain john price #john price x reader #john price #captain price #price #cultleader!price

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piccolos-bigtoe · 2 months

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They are aminals,,,, if u can believe it,, it’s sniper but crocodile mode,, demo is a ewe? Lamb? Ram? Some sort of sheep thing. Scout is a jackrabbit or something, uh a very questionably humanish one. Trying something new , very interested in the weird anthro style during the like, 70’s80’s of “what is that?? An animal with a human body,? A human body wirh an animal head? A weirdly human faced animal??” I am studiously studying stylistic styles…. It’s odd and a little bit hard to find references

I am going through a bit of a rough patch to be perfectly queer with everyone, so I am drawing to cope. It’s a comfort while also being a sort of an odd ironic annoyance for reasons. I was planning on rambling and being super philosophical but to be honest I forgort iterally everything I was going to say but that’s okay.

I meant to post this last night but I fell asleep in the middle of typing, whoops,, anyways I think the aminals the others would be are; heavy is a bear; engineer a beaver? Cat? Maybe?; medic a dove (yeah yeah I’m uncreative); spy is uh either a fox or a chameleon or a snake; soldier would be Ermm a dog or wolf maybe?; pyro would a cat meeow anyways good morning everyone I surpose,,, time for me to get up now,, I don wanna

#tf2 #my art #team fortress 2 #tf2 fanart #tf2 sniper #tf2 demoman #tf2 scout #they are freaking wildt amnials #I think snipers parents would be sheep cause they owned a sheep farm as humans…#so maybe sheep owning a human farm?#that might be too creepy

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midnightsxblue · 12 days

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CARE TO KNOCK?

carl grimes x fem!reader

(you and carl get caught. twice.)

tags: SMUT!! oral sex, f!receiving, getting caught! fun!

masterlist here!

You tried your hardest to be discreet about how…active you and Carl were. It wasn’t the easiest considering Carl was the leaders’ son and it seemed like eyes were always on him, whether it was his dad’s or Michonne’s. Sometimes people in the community.

You’d try to sneak off and do what you could but with your guys’ luck, you almost always got interrupted. One time something possessed the both of you to try it in the church house when there was a community event. That went as well as you’d imagine.

“Holy mother of-” Gabriel had walked in on the both of you on one of the pews. God was it embarrassing. (see what i did there i know you guys love me.) The scene he’d walked in on consisted of you without a shirt and Carl’s hand practically groping your tits over your bra. Also you were attached at the mouth so you could see why he’d be terrified.

Obviously you scrambled to put your clothes on while Carl tried to explain for the both of you, begging to not tell Rick or Michonne. “Look man, we’re really sorry we just- please don’t tell my dad. I’m begging you he can’t know about this.” He explains worriedly. Gabriel stood there still shocked. You had to make it up to him somehow, considering you were doing an unholy act in a holy place but, there wasn’t really any real repercussions because Carl had gotten him to keep it a secret. Something about making it up to him for something Gabriel had done when they first arrived at Alexandria.

Anyway, a large reason you didn’t want Rick to know, was because you two shared a room. You were happy to almost always get away with things at night (you tried not to be too loud) and not have anyone know. It was nice. Until one particular day.

Rick and Michonne go out on Wednesday mornings to scavenge, so you two took advantage of the time you had..and got to it. It wasn’t really anything crazy, your morning sex was usually romantic and sweet. It’s not like you were going at it like animals.

One week, they’d left a bit earlier so in your mind, you were able to get some extra time.

“Oh fuck-” You spoke breathlessly, he was under the blanket eating you out. Something about the way he was ruthlessly lapping at your clit made you realize that today’s morning sex wouldn’t be so romantic. He began to move upwards and start kissing up your body hungrily. He started to place harsh kisses all around your neck, leaving small bruises around as well. “You’re so perfect.” He mumbled against your neck.

The next thing you know, he’s sitting up with your legs between his knees. He flips you over on your stomach and lifts your hips up so you’re arched for him how he wants. You giggle at his sudden movements and you’re surprised by him literally shoving himself inside of you.

“Oh-“ You moan loudly, surprising yourself and immediately slapping your hand over your mouth. He began thrusting himself in and out of you with no plan on stopping. That was until the door beside your guys’ bed suddenly opened. It opened just enough so Rick could see you and your back, Carl’s arms and his face.

Your eyes go wide and once he realizes what was happening, Rick quickly shuts the door, catching Carl’s attention which causes him to stop. “What the hell was that?” He asked, his hands still resting at your hips. “Your fucking dad.” You pull away from him and Carl sits there sort of astonished. “W-wait he saw?” He covers himself with the blanket and you move to find your underwear and shorts.

“Not everything, just me I hope. He didn’t open the door open too much.” You pull up your underwear and scramble around for your shorts which Carl pulled from under the blanket he was using to cover himself. “What’s scary is that you didn’t stop.”

You throw him his own clothes which were on the floor and he feels somewhat upset he didn’t realize the door had opened. He was too busy fucking you. “Well it’s kinda hard to focus on stopping when I’m in the middle of something.” He says defensively, pulling up his boxers and sweatpants. You plop on the bed, dropping your head to your hands while he found a shirt to wear. After seeing how worried you were, he walked over and kissed the top of your head.

“Don’t stress out okay? It’ll be fine, worst comes to worst he’ll take the room away but we’ll work our way around it.” He reassured. Maybe he’s right. This didn’t have to be such a big deal. If Carl didn’t make it one, you wouldn’t either.

“Care to knock? What the hell?” You both were now in the kitchen, Carl was scolding Rick who was standing with Michonne and Maggie at the island. You were standing behind him quietly. “Well I thought we were way past knockin. Plus we got home early.” Rick sort of laughs, seeming unfazed. Your eyebrows furrow at this and he notices. “What, you thought we didn’t know about what goes on in there at night?”

You look to Michonne and Maggie who were both sort of smiling at you. “What?” You asked peeved. “I mean…you’re not exactly the quietest.” Michonne reasons. Your face is flushed and you’re super embarrassed, it doesn’t help that when you turn you realize both Glenn and Daryl had been in the room as well, you just hadn’t noticed. Glenn sort of giggles at you, Daryl just…is Daryl. “Oh shit.” You mutter to yourself, hiding your face in your hands and Carl just stands there annoyed as hell.

“They’re not wrong though you are quite loud.” He says quietly, slightly teasing you over a conversation you’d had many times before, he always made fun of you for being so vocal, even though he loved it. You look up from your hands just to give him a pissed off glare. You give him a shove to the shoulder and make your way back upstairs.

“Fuck off.”

a/n: sorry guys for this HAHAHA idk how smutty anon wanted this request but they got smut..sorry pookie :| ANYWAY i hope you all enjoyed, currently deciding on closing my requests cause im gettin a shit ton but we’ll figure that out later!!! love you bye!!!

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @evilnight07 @ilikestrawberriesandwomen

#carl grimes #the walking dead #twd #carl grimes twd #carl grimes smut #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes the walking dead #carl grimes angst #the walking dead carl #twd carl #smut #twd smut

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hyper-fixated-princess · 7 months

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I can’t stop crying. Not just cause I’m sad, but because I’m also FUCKING. PISSED.

Netflix can’t keep doing shit like this. Playing with fans like that, giving them a show to love and support and then snatch it away like it’s no more than a number on the sales chart of the year.

They shouldn’t even be allowed to start filming book adaptations of this magnitude without some sort of certainty for the fans. Without an actual plan to bring ALL the books to life. They pretend like they care about their audience with this 'Geeked Week' and 'TUDUM' bullshit and then they will go and cancel a bunch of shows like it’s nothing. Without explanation and with zero care for the millions of fans who will be emotionally affected by this.

And I’m sorry, but what the fuck are the other 4 shows that got cancelled with SaB???!?!! I had NEVER heard of them, EVER. One of them is an animated show that has Elvis Preasley as a secret agent, like, GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK. It is truly insulting that they even put SaB and the SoC spinoff in that same category. It feels like they’re laughing to our faces.

And to make it even worse, they give shows like 'Elite' SEVEN FUCKING SEASONS!! SEVEN!!!! A series about teenagers that just fuck each other and that everyone thinks it’s SHIT. And they also make movies like 'The Archies', a 'Riverdale' spin-off (aka the show EVERYONE was glad it finally ended).

But “oh no! God forbid we renew shows that have relatable, lovable characters, loyal fanbases and good storytelling. Now that would be awful.” So they go off and cancel 'Shadow and Bone', and the 'Six of Crows' spinoff, and 'Anne With an E', '1899', 'I Am Not Okay With This', 'Sense8', 'Glow', 'Julie and the Phantoms', 'Daredevil' and the list goes ON AND ON.

Fuck you Netflix. FUCK. YOU.

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hells-wasabii · 4 months

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I’m shamelessly asking for some Carmilla Carmine x fem!reader where reader gets nearly killed during extermination day, maybe severely hurt kind of thing cuz I’m a sucker for angst

A/N: And I am shamelessly answering this wholeheartedly Can I just say that I love Carmilla?? And one can never have enough angst. I went ahead and decided to make it a drabble

A/n's A/N: I came back after finishing this, i really didn't mean for it to get so long. It's not a drabble anymore, it's a short fic. the word count is nearly three times what i usually allot for my drabbles.

Character: Carmilla

Type: Fic (Carmilla x fem!reader injured during extermination, Angst, Fluff)

All it takes is one second. Time meant everything during the annual extermination. If you drop your guard, let yourself get distracted, it could mean certain death. This was something that Carmilla had been extra diligent in teaching her daughters, and something that she had always reminded you, her love, her heart, of constantly.

You would always offer a soft smile of reassurance, pressing a kiss to the overlord's hand.

But things don't always go as planned, do they?

No one expected to get separated.

There had been an explosion that had taken out most of the city block. Some sinner trying to put up a fight before their inevitable demise, her daughters informed her after the fact. She had found Odette and Clara easily, both on the same side of the blast as she had been, but she had lost sight of you. You hadn't been caught in the blast, she knew that for sure. You were durable enough for something as measly as that to not be of much effect, anyhow.

But the fact that she didn't know where you had gone made her nervous. No one was truly safe during the exterminations, only hellborns and the king.

Her blood ran cold when your scream met her ears, her head snapping in the direction.

No.

Carmilla was in motion before her mind could catch up. The arms dealer instinctively ran through the streets littered with death and destruction, Clara and Odette calling after her. It wasn't like their mother to act so impulsively.

Turning the corner, there you were, lying in a slowly growing pool of blood. The arms dealer deflated upon seeing you in such a state. If only she had gotten here sooner. Luckily, the exorcist has gone. Likely to chase down some other damned soul like an animal, she thought bitterly. Skidding to a stop, she dropped to her knees at your side.

You were in a bad state, disheveled, bruised, bloodied. The worst of it appeared to be a rather large stab wound just above your hip, likely from some sort of spear.

But you were still breathing, nonetheless. You could still be saved. Hope bloomed in Carmilla's chest, as she pushed aside your blouse to better reveal the worst of your injuries.

"Girls," Carmilla called out once she was sure that it was safe for them to follow.

As she checked you for other injuries her daughters knelt by her side.

"Mother, here." Clara sounded as frantic as Carmilla felt. The overlord briefly turned to her daughter, surprised to find her taking off her coat to offer her. "To apply pressure," her daughter clarified. Her heart swelled at the action, accepting the coat and pressing it to your wound.

"Look!" Odette called out, and out of the corner of her eye, Carmilla saw her pointing to the sky. "The angels are retreating!"

"She's right!" Clara chimed in, placing a hand on her mother's shoulder, "We should get her back home, then we can tend to the wound properly."

Carmilla had never felt prouder of her daughters, they truly had grown into exceptional young women. She made a mental note to properly thank the both of them once things had settled.

But home was too far away, they would never make it there before you bled out. Lady luck was on your side as the four of you hadn't been too far from one of their safe houses, however, they needed to move quickly before you lost too much blood.

The next hour and a half were a blur. The moment they had unlocked the door to the safe house the Carmines got to work

Your wounds were cleaned and dressed. Carmilla herself had been the one to wash off the blood and dirt that caked your skin and you were laid up in bed. Odette and Clara had left once they were sure you would recover, choosing to give you and their mother space.

The arms dealer couldn't help feeling partially responsible. She thought if only she had been more diligent, and kept you close to her, maybe you wouldn't be left in such a state. The realization hit her, hard. She could have lost you.

"Carmilla?" your voice pulled the overlord from her thoughts. You were awake! In an instant she was by your side, taking your hand in hers.

"It's okay darling, Everything is alright now." You don't answer, at least not with your words. instead, with a grateful smile turning up the corners of your lips, you gave her hand a gentle squeeze. She couldn't help but return the smile, relieved. Leaning down, she pressed a kiss to your temple.

"Funny, for a moment there, I thought I'd somehow made it to heaven. Mistook you for an angel," you managed out a strained laugh, though you immediately regretted it when a sharp pain shot through your lower abdomen. Your smile returned, however, as Carmilla couldn't help but roll her eyes. But you had met your mark, the arms dealer finally let the tension leave her body.

"Mi amore."

"Yes, Carmilla?" You at first thought that the arms dealer was going to scold you for making light of the situation. You never would have expected the next words out of her mouth. She breathed out, gaze softening, her request was barely above a whisper.

"Marry me."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin headcanons #hazbin imagine #carmilla carmine x reader #carmilla x reader #carmilla carmine

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thementalshawty · 6 months

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PAC Who Is Your FS? Pt.1

Hey I am back with another PAC but I’m going to do something a little different this time. I will be doing 6 piles but they will be in a 2 parter because I want the energy of the 6 to be separated. So at the end of the day you can read this one and get the gist and the sec on part is confirmation or even extra information, the others can and will find their answers in one of the piles in either part one or two. This is a general reading so with that you know the deal, take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. So Picc an Emoji and let’s begin now.

Disclaimer: Tarot is not final but is a mere suggestion, don’t you depend on the opinion or suggestions of anyone to make your own decisions and judgement calls.

P1: 🍩

P2: 🍉

P3: 🥘

🍩🍩🍩🍩🍩🍩🍩🍩🍩🍩🍩

FS 1:

Animal that represents your FS: Crow Spirit. I feel like your FS off top is taboo, well for some of you here I’m hearing witches and warlocks as spouses in this pile, or maybe some of you are? Something about counting crows idk if they do that but I know that they definitely associate with crows in some way? They Cocreate with their spirit guides whether it’s aware to them or not. I told you some of them are witches and warlocks or are very powerful manifesters. They’re hella creative and they may have a Loud yell or call. They may have bird like features some of them. Something in them is Sharp? Like a sharp nose or a sharp stare??? Numbers: 1,7,8 & 17 may have some importance

Auset describing Your FS: Hapi Water Spirit. Numbers 1,3,4 and 13 could be of importance. I feel for some of you, your FS are water signs, mainly Scorpio and Pisces. They’re the type of person that needs to work energetically and with thought before making any moves. They’re definitely a planner and I’m hearing analyzer. This person wants nooooooo fuck ups! NONE HONEY!!! Baboons may have something to do with them too?? They need to visualize the moves for themselves before they do it. I’m telling you this is my alchemical pile right here, very very magical spouses, maybe you guys delve in magic too or should try it. If not you definitely them!

Describing Your FS (Oracle): Here & Now. Numbers 3,2,5 & 32 could have some significance. Some of your spouses are 32, I heard that not all but for some. They are not one to worry about the future or worry about the past, I heard they gotta plan for that already, they are just worried about executing the plan for today. They’re a very live in the moment and present kind of people. I see that they’re the type of person to get caught up sometimes and forget that though, cos being the planner that they are they do have worries about the future I feel in the past they weren’t as prepared and that shit caused them so much struggle and so from that day they wanna be prepared. This is a person who has plan b-Z if A doesn’t work. They are always present though, even when they worry about the future or the past they manage to always bring themselves back to the present cos they don’t wanna miss a thing. (Ha now I’m hearing that song by Aerosmith).

Your FS (Tarot): 9oPentacles, 6oSwords,Justice. You already know numbers 9,6,11,& 2 may have some importance to them. I feel that your FS are very accomplished, I feel it’s fairly new, they just acquired their success and blessings, they worked their goddamn asses for it! They aren’t a lazy person, they hate procrastinating but I feel they may do it sometimes which is why I feel they worked their asses off to get where and what they needed and it’s finally starting to pay off for them, matter of fact every single one of these cards sort of represent that, instead of telling me who they are it’s almost telling me what they’re going through, or what they’ve been going through and I think it’s because it’s a transformative time for them, they will be ascending and a lot of things that could describe them may be falling off so maybe your guides don’t want to fully share their personality because they’re experiencing their own experiences that’s showing them who they really are. I feel like they may like birds, crows, hawks Ravens etc. spiritually and materially they have just been blessed and they are enjoying every minute of it! They’re not missing a single second for the world! They have gone through way too much shit for them to not be anything other than present for this. They are FINALLY coming out of a dark place in their lives, they were in some drama mama! Some straight up chaos and that shit was so unhealthy it began to shut them down I’m hearing for some the others sort of just reacted angrily and it was so toxic they became spiritually and physically sick. I feel that they got some help to come in, and they were helped out by someone who moved them away from their toxic environment. I feel your FS are like that and I feel it’s cos they are compassionate, they know and understand struggle and they hate to see it. They could be a Libra due to the justice card of have Libra placements. They are the mediators of their group, I don’t see them having many friends, a selective few maybe some acquaintances that they laugh and joke around with but other than that nobody really close to them, I’m getting Lone Wolf and ranger type of vibes from this pile. They are someone who’s going to stand up for what they feel is true and fair and equal! They cherish and crave mutuality, if it’s imbalanced they not a fan. They honor equality and respect for all! They see everyone the same they don’t do favoritism and hatred towards anyone. They suffered. Some of your FS are Black, White, Some Asian/Korean/ Hispanic even too. I feel especially if you’re looking for women those ethnic backgrounds apply. Your FS has an ugly side tho, when unfairness or anything they feel is wrong or unjust comes out they are unmerciful. They can be ruthless if needed. Long hair for some, curly fros for others, black and brown hair colors I’m seeing. Gentleman and gentlewomen. Very soft but sharp features. True knights. Diplomatic and tactful, Hella charming. Playboys and women, they know how to bag a person! They’re very good looking, handsome, stunning, I’m even seeing gorgeous to some of you. It’s a very classy kind of beauty. Innocent and beautiful. They are quick to help out anyone they feel needs them and they’re not the type to swoop in and save the day assuming that needs to happen, they will always approach and ask “you need some help?” “Can I help you?” Perfect customer service representative honestly. They’re very sweet and kindhearted. Great smiles. They may be gardeners some of them, they like organic shit, they may not eat meat, or anything that has chemicals and toxic ingredients in food. They are very sensitive about what they put into their bodies. Smokers for some? (Weed not cigarettes or anything else). This person is a catch, a true victorious winner and they will treat you amazingly. Earth and Air placements especially Libra and Taurus! This person is Venus personified! Congrats! They’re hella seductive! I’m trying to find something bad on them honestly but it’s not working. They just fuccin rocc! Acts of Service is their love language.

I feel that. Congrats p1 you deserve it.

🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉

FS II

Animal that represents your FS: Bee Spirit. So I’m seeing that 7 could have some significance, as well as the colors Yellow and Black, which leads me to think that some of your FS are mixed races. They’re very hardworking and some of them are the queen bees lol. They have been striving towards something and sweet results are about to roll in for them. I feel like they’re very goal oriented, tunnel vision. This is my workaholic pile I feel, they are workhorses some of them, others are spoiled by others. They have stingers but only use them if they absolutely must. They work like a well oiled machine, no rest. They are around the clock nonstop movers and shakers and they’re about to be rewarded if they aren’t already.

Auset Describing Your FS: Set. Numbers 3,7, 10, 1 & 37 could have some importance to your FS. Set is the god of chaos and war, dirt and sandstorms. I feel your FS have dealt with a lot of challenges and they have some negative traits that you will not like, I’m getting Aries vibes from this. The color red is coming to my head, something about rage. They may have anger issues, they are a jealous person. Some of your FS are bitter from all the challenges they went through, life gave them shit and they kind of internalized it and became dreadful, survival mode on lock, they are so paranoid, they may have or had beef with a sibling. They could have jealous family members. Some of them could have just been dealing with some shit. They can be the youngest sibling or the issue is with the younger sibling. People are intimidated by them. Their demeanor is don’t fucc with me and people heed that shit. They could be 37 some of them, or 10 years older or younger than some of you? They’ve seen some ugly shit in their lives in love, family, career etc. I’m seeing drug addiction for either them or someone they loved and they dealt with that shit. This person is strong but it tainted them in the process I feel.

Describing Your FS (Oracle): Treasure Island. The number 9 could be of some importance to your FS. I feel like they’re the type to see the beauty in things others may not. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure, they may have that mindset. They’re beginning to see the results of their own actions, they’ve been moving slow towards this goal that they’re about to receive. This person is a treasure and you’ll definitely see them that way! Great at manifesting, they’re right now working with the law of attraction. They just received a financial windfall from out of nowhere to them. They’re very abundant right now or they’re definitely about to be.

Your FS (Tarot): The Empress, 3oSwordsRx, & The HermitRx. I see that the number 3, 9, & 7 are frequent in this reading so I feel like those numbers in particular are very important to your FS. They can be a Virgo or a Pisces. They’re very intelligent and intuitive. Your FS is beautiful you’ll be blown away by their beauty. Especially if it’s a woman too! They can have braids or locs some of them. They’re very sweet and loving, nurturing and parental. They could have kids. They may love moon bathing some of them, or they should. They are of the world; hella creative and open to whatever the universe/god is bringing them. They are always coming up with new ideas and projects they are the type of people to have plenty of hobbies, a jack of all trades. They are very blended in their energies, and elements. I feel whatever they went through shaped them and helped them become whole but I just think that they can’t see it. They are the type to not know the magnitude of how much they rule!! They may shit on themselves heavily! They are the type to be there for everyone except themselves. They put themselves on the backburner. They are so amazing but they are the type to wallow in their pain and own ignorance. They don’t want to face what happened to them or they don’t want to take accountability for their part in it, so maybe they had an outburst but they will always come up with excuses for it. They are jaded over this pain, I feel it makes so much impact with how they live, move and make decisions. They are so strong but they are so blinded by this pain or by this anger, they really see nothing but that. It overpowers everything that they are and do. They need to do some shadow work. They procrastinate when it comes to it, they may avoid those feelings because they don’t want to relive that hurt but what they don’t realize is that they’re replaying this pain on a loop subliminally in their minds so they’re technically always reliving that pain! That’s why they’re so jaded, it’s like getting sick of a song but you’re leaving it on replay. They need to get out of their head. They’re in isolation, this person I feel has little to absolutely no friends. They were in some kind of abusive relationship. I don’t really wanna get into that. If they don’t have kids, they’re very fertile!! They barely go out, a homebody and I feel to a scary point and I don’t wanna get deeper into that cos it’s reminding me of myself and what I am having to break out of and baby that shit is no joke and putting that business on here without knowing them personally is just fucked up so I won’t. They have been through some shit but they are beautiful person, their heart is being pulled in so many directions and it’s so hard for them to catch a break and they are dealing with it in a toxic way for them and they need to face their demons. I feel they just need someone to talk too, but I have a feeling this person is locked tighter than a bank vault after a robbery. They aren’t into letting anyone see them, not even themselves, Ugh my heart goes out to them. Words of affirmation I feel is their love language. Fear avoidant attachment style, they’re Virgo like, the highs and lows of the sign honestly, I feel like some are Pisces and some are Virgos. Very feminine energy. They want love but they’re afraid of rejection and getting hurt cos that’s all they know, so they’re afraid to dream bigger and want better for themselves.

🥘🥘🥘🥘🥘🥘🥘🥘🥘🥘🥘

FS III

Animal that represents your FS: Pig Spirit🐽: The numbers 4,7,11,2,& 47 may have some importance. This is the kind of person who is quick on their feet, they give me air energy. They’re very intelligent. They’re not a messy person even tho they have messy moments. They’re fun loving and just want to enjoy themselves while they’re still on this earth. Happy go lucky type of people. They believe that pigs can fly, they dream big but they’re not delusional they understand the concept between reality and fantasy but they have a great imagination and they have big goals and aspirations for themselves. They wanna own the moon one day. They wanna fly the highest they can possibly get. They live on cloud 9!

Auset Describing your FS: Anubis. 3. He’s one of my guides!!!! I love Anubis he’s amazing! Your FS is such a great person! They’re very wise and give amazing advice. They take care of everyone, no favoritism with them, they treat everyone fairly, they judge by action, they feel like your hearts intention is based on how you move. You can protect on them to guide you whenever you need it, anyone who needs help, they are the one to call. So reliable and trustworthy, they may have a lot of people depend on them. Helping them transition from one state to the next. They can even be a therapist some of them, or the dr Phil/oprah of their group. They stand up for what they believe in and who they believe in. They’re a great protector. You will feel so safe, they feel like everyone should feel that way, “has the RIGHT to feel safe.” I heard that. Guard dog lover, they aren’t jealous but they won’t let just anyone get near you. They could’ve been abandoned by their parents (maternal esp if you’re looking for guy). They believe in healing of the soul by living out their passions. They believe that freedom to be yourselves is the best medicine. They want to get to know people for who they are at a soul core level. I feel they have GREAT FRIENDS. Certain LGBTQ 🏳️‍🌈 energy here, they created their own family! They love caring for others, they feel it’s part of their purpose, some nurses and doctors here. Therapist just doctors or medicators of some kind.

Describing your FS (oracle): A Leg Up. 3,4,7, & 34 could have some significance to your FS. They can be 34 some of them. I feel like they are the type of person to definitely lift others up, they aren’t selfish or greedy about shit, they will share their plate, cos they’re confident in their position. They themselves have received leg ups in life from people and they’re just passing on that energy. They’re not a jealous person at all they’re about progression. Sagittarius energy HEAVY! Sag and Aqua energy HEAVY! They’re very free loving. They’re very authoritative and they know how to delegate, they know how to both give and receive help. They’re not hyper independent they believe in teamwork! I love your FS! They’re my favorite! Shhhhhh don’t tell!

Describing your FS (Tarot): PageoSwords, 6oWands,& Judgement. They’re hella inquisitive and always asking about everything, they love to learn, very Gemini energy. They love to gossip with their friends, I also think that they’re the topic of gossip. Reading is everything to them. You’ll always catch their face in a book. Great conversationalist. Young at heart. Playful. They know how to multitask and juggle many things at a time. Their mind is always racing and they can’t turn it off. They’re a student of the world! They want to learn everything. The type who’s learning how to speak different languages. 6,2,& 20 may have some importance to them, some of your FS in this pile is 20. Some of you????? If that’s the case this is confirmation that you chose the right pile! I am seeing that your FS for some 2-3 maybe are celebrities like well known celebrities! No K-pop I don’t sense that here but I’m seeing some notoriety and some household names being here. The rest your FS is known in their field. Wildly successful and part of that has to do with their success story, how they came up and what they went through their hustle to mask it out of the “hood” or bad circumstances so to speak, they have brown hair, long, wavy, curly and straight, it varies I’m seeing. They are hella influential and inspirational to a lot of people, they’re extremely popular. An important person I’m hearing VIP. The it boy/girl. Everyone wants them, everyone wants to be them. They’re not cocky though, they’re all smiles and laughs, very joyous, I’m hearing for the celebrities, once you meet them and get to know them a little you’ll understand why they got fame. They’re so fun to be around. Fun and bubbly personality. They have loud voice. They’re very in demand. They know how to control a room. How to perform. They’re hella entertaining and I think they’re funny cos I’m feeling the urge to laugh and giggle. They may laugh a lot or giggle. You will find that cute. They’re not all about themselves, I see confidence but I also see that they’re a bit insecure too. They dress nice. They dress and look expensive. This is my glam and glitzy but humble pile. They’re such a fuccin joy. And they’re themselves regardless of what’s happening or who’s around. They are the essence of them and that shit is untouchable. They feel like people should see who they are, to love them and experience them to a full extent. They do enjoy the spotlight on them but I’m hearing they deserve it. They’re so litty. They remind me of me! I’m still feeling giggly and giddy, I feel this is how people feel around them (especially them celebs.). They are accepting too, they don’t judge, they’ve faced a lot of backlash and judgement from being who they are so this is the smack in their faces to your FS, their whole image can be about fuck society and their standards etc. I’m getting rocker energy from this pile so some of them can be famous rockers? I was getting the older numbers like 47, so some of you may have a FS in their 40’s, so what??? You’re all over 18 & you will know this person is your person, I feel this connection between you guys is that of a spiritual one. You can feel their spirit, it’s strong! Their presence is very powerful! This person is electric and everyone loves them! Nothing bad to say about this pile! Not really!

Alrighty my dearies! That’s it for part one of who’s your FS! Thank you for taking this ride with me and stay tuned for good ole part two coming soon!

Hope you have clarity!

Now Spread Love and Light!

EeeP Byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee 👋🏽

Heka 🕊️🏆

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gumiluver · 4 months

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TWO PRETTY BEST FRIENDS! ~ JUJUTSU KAISEN

synopsis: what happens when two pretty best friends get you in their grasp?

cover pic credit: k1tty_4ndy on pinterest |border credit: @/cafekitsune

lovers <3: gojo satoru x afab!reader x geto suguru

byr/byi: the content in this fic is not suitable for individuals under the age of 18, minors please do not interact (you will be blocked!)

cw: nsfw, pwp, fingering, oral (f. receiving), manhandling, threesome (mfm), dirty talk (suguru’s a slut with his words), squirting, pet names

an: hope y’all enjoy! I’m considering making this a series with different jjk!best friend pairings!…lmk if you guys would be interested in smthn like that <3

“Ohh, do that again—she likes that,” Suguru groans, enchanted by the way your pretty eyes cross in a haze of lust-filled bliss. He’s got you in between his legs, a fistful of your hair in his grasp, making you angle your head up towards him so he can gaze upon your innocent face and watch it slowly morph into the fucked out cumslut he knows his good girl is.

“Hah, ‘course she does,” Gojo snickers, reveling at how your sweet pussy drips oh so deliciously for him.

“It’s ‘cause of me isn’t it, princess? You like when your ‘toru touches you right…” he trails off, creating an even deeper ache in your already pulsing cunt. He slowly weaves his index and middle finger through your folds to find your dripping core and finishes off his remark with a thrust of his fingers,”…here.”

“Ngghhh—fuuuck!!” you cry, overtaken by the intrusion of Satoru’s fingers that were, yet again, making their way into your gummy walls. His fingers move with purpose and certainty, hooking them toward your plush womb with the sole intention of abusing that spongy spot that makes you weep for him.

You felt like you were suffocating. Geto’s firm grip on your hair and neck leaves you squirming in his hold, but he’s quick to put you back in your place, “be good for us sweetheart, I’d hate to have to punish you so soon,” he chides, secretly hoping that you’d start to lose your rationality and step out of line. The shiver that rides along your spine doesn’t go unnoticed by Suguru, and he takes pride in knowing how his words sway you towards submission.

It seems like Satoru was able to read his best friend's intentions and wanted nothing more than to aid him in your descent, noting how Suguru’s clenched jaw and bulging arm veins hold him hostage from his true desires. He could see the sheer restraint that his best friend was holding onto, and Gojo would be lying if he said he wasn’t holding himself back as well.

Because fuck—look at ya.

Your head was thrown back, sheer ecstasy written on your face as Satoru quickened his pace, effectively fingering you into an early orgasm that had you squirting all over the two. The moans and cries you let out have both men grunting like animals, humping up into the air to gain some sort of friction on their sensitive cocks. Your hips sway in tandem with Satoru’s fingers, making both men become hypnotized by the very essence of your being. Both men drooling like fucking dogs, waiting to sink their teeth into you, waiting for your beck n’ call. The glistening sheen that radiates from your body resembles an innocent-like aura, just begging to be corrupted—and corrupt they shall.

Satoru’s already conjured up his own sick and twisted plans, wanting to get you an all fours to fuck you from behind while watching his pretty best friend fuck his lover's mouth.

And of course, Suguru had his own salacious desires, aching to see you split on top of his dick as he watches his pretty best friend jerk off at the sight of him fucking you.

And you? Well, you’d be happy if either of them would hurry up and fuck you already—the endless teasing starting to weave between the lines of pleasure and pain. Satoru continues to overstimulate your poor cunt and Suguru’s grip on you makes you yearn for something harder—something rougher.

Satoru’s ability of forethought seemed to have played in your favor as well, seeing as he can’t help but gaze at your sweet cunt that’s just begging to be filled. You can see his cock strain against his boxer briefs, an occasional twitch or two catching your attention and making you drool—wanting to taste his heavy tip.

Your gaze is hyper-fixated on Satoru’s cock now, your body moving forward—like a magnet being drawn to its force. But before you could even reach him, you feel yourself get pulled back into Suguru’s chest, “Ah—ah—ah, where do you think you’re going, pretty girl? Did you forget about me?”

You look up towards Suguru again, puppy dog eyes on full display to convey your innocence, “n-no!! I’d never forget you Sugu~” you cry, reaching up to place a warm hand on his cheek. You look over to Satoru who’s watching the two of you intently and beckon him over, wanting to please both your lovers equally, “Just wanna feel you—both of you.”

And who were they to deny their precious baby? The one and only person that could make them drop to their knees and beg for just a simple taste of you. The single most important person in the world to them. And most importantly, the only person that they are willing to share and love, together.

“Mmmm—fuckin’ love hearin’ you cry for us, such a desperate little thing. Isn’t that right, Satoru?” Suguru says, a cocky smirk adorning his face as he sees your blush darken over your cheeks. He squeezes your cheeks together with one hand, loving the way your plump limps perk together for him to kiss and suck on.

“Mhm~, poor baby’s just drippin’ for us,” Satoru responds, lowering his head down towards your cunt. Before you can protest, before you can even beg for their cocks, Suguru covers your mouth and pins your body on top of his. His forearm holding you down as Satoru spreads your thighs open again but this time, to suckle at your pink bud, and the whimper that you let out is like fucking music to their ears.

“I know you want our cocks sweetheart, but we gotta prep you more. Just relax, let us make you feel good,” Suguru charms, lulling you into a state of naivety to get you to blindly trust them. With the multiple orgasms that Satoru has been pulling from you coupled with Suguru’s debauched speech, you were more than ready to take both of them at this point.

But this? This was pure greed, from both men.

Suguru, wanting to see just how much you can handle before you’re a fucked out crying mess, begging to be stuffed with their cocks. And Satoru, reveling in your taste and secretly hoping to get you to squirt on his face.

Both men had their filthy little plans of watching you come undone, and both were intrigued by what the other’s plans were to get you to come undone.

And you? Well, all you could do was take it. Take the pleasurable torment. Take what they give you and then some.

After all, who knows what these two pretty best friends have in store for you in the long run?

an: what did you guys think?? I love hearing your feedback and what you enjoyed!! Should I make this a series? <33

As always, likes, comments, follows, reblogs, and any other form of interaction is greatly appreciated <3 #supportcreators

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avocado-writing · 5 months

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roadtrip au

I can’t stop thinking about a modern au roadtrip and what everyone would be doing in the minivan you definitely have. I’m sorry if this has been done before but -

Tav

You’re driving. Would you trust any of those other fools to? No. Absolutely not letting them behind the wheel

Responsible for keeping the schedule. You have to be at your destination on time and you’ll be damned if they’ll stop you.

The only person you sometimes let take over if you need a break is —

Gale

Let’s be real. Only other one of you with a driving license.

he sits shotgun mostly because he reads the map for you if your GPS goes out.

tries to work out shortcuts. Fails miserably. If you follow his “time saving” directions you’ll get so fucking lost. Only trust him to read out your planned route and nothing else.

Astarion

Fucking hates road trips. Catch him with a sleep mask on and headphones in. Will absolutely sleep through the whole entire thing.

Let’s be clear. He doesn’t NEED to sleep. But he does because he can’t fucking stand car talk. Would rather listen to podcasts and be in his own world. especially because of —

Lae’zel

Hates road trips too but because she’s a terrible backseat driver. Doesn’t understand why you can’t speed all the way there to make the trip more efficient, or take out other cars.

rolls down the window to shout at people on the road who she thinks are driving poorly.

Gets in fights with people at the gas station when you stop to refuel the car. And also in the car with —

Shadowheart

Always there to bicker with Lae’zel. When she’s not doing that she’s brooding out of the window.

Mutters that this must be some sort of trial from her god, because she is suffering being stuck in this minivan.

does fall asleep on the shoulder of the person sitting next to her though. (Often Lae’zel. Weird they always sit next to each other when they can’t seem to get along… but Lae’zel does let her sleep, claiming that the silence is better.)

Karlach

One of the few people who enjoys the ride!

likes to call out farm animals she sees as you drive by. “Sheep!” or “cows!”

LOVES a game of yellow car. Especially the version where you punch each other. Therefore she doesn’t get many volunteers to sit next to her.

Wyll

He controls the music and the aux cord. People all approve of his music tastes. Makes the best playlists, change my mind

he’s often singing along too, he has a nice voice, catch him and Tav belting out “unwritten” at the top of their lungs as you speed down the motorway.

helps settle fights in the van. Massive peacekeeper. If there was no Wyll there would be no roadtrip.

Halsin

Hates being in a car but sucks it up and does it anyway.

this man is the snack master. He brings all the snacks. And good stuff too, like a lot of nice sweets and crisps…

… because if people are eating they aren’t arguing.

likes to be next to a window so he can see nature go by, gets into conversations with Karlach about the animals and trees around 💕

#Bg3 #tav #wyll #wyll ravengard #halsin #astarion #karlach #laezel #Lae’zel #shadowheart #gale of waterdeep #gale #gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 #Bg3 headcanons #Implied Lae’zel x shadowheart lol #Bg3 fic #Long post

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the-californicationist · 26 days

Note

Hello🐻❤

Military!Biker!Price ?

I mean... Repaired a motorcycle, ride a biker

I love you Cali ❤🫂

I love you too @leixy and I’m so sorry for the wait!! Hope you enjoy the story 🩷🩷

MDNI

Storm Chaser

The rumble that you heard just outside of your garage may have been mistaken for thunder. The skies were gray, and as they rolled across the firmament, you knew they’d linger, soaking the ground and making the soil black with its fallen waters. But, this wasn’t a thundercall. This was a Triumph.

A giant, hulking man, laden with muscle and black leather gear, rolled into your mechanic shop’s driveway on a blacked out, stealthy Triumph Storm GT. Its rider’s face was covered in a full helmet, and as he slowed to a stop, his heavy boot dug into the shale, catching the center of the bike and sitting up straight, killing the enormous engine.

He looked at you. You knew he was looking at you because there was no one else to look at. You saw yourself in the black mirror of his visor, and all around you were the empty fields surrounding your shop, the tall grass roiling in the wind.

The gloves came off first, and you indulged in his hands. They seemed monstrous; a thin dusting of dark hair covered his skin, and each finger looked like it might have been wider than two of your own. His nails were clean, which surprised you for some reason, and there was a nasty scar along his right palm.

He fiddled with his helmet, unlatching the buckle, and then yanked it over his head.

Shit. You cursed inside of your mind. He’s hot as hell.

You’d been drooling over the bike, but the man sweetened the deal. He was ruggedly handsome, and his movements were so easy. It was like being in the presence of a magician, as if he knew all the secrets and delighted in hiding them from you. He was so certain, so sure of his tricks, and you waited on him to break the spell he’d put on you.

“Alright, love? How’s it goin’?”

He held out his hand for you to shake, and it warmed you like a fire. His grip was firm but careful, and he let you go without a shake. You smiled,

“All good. Slow day,” you pointed upwards, “No one but you out in this weather.”

He chuckled, and you fell for him even harder. His mirth was contagious. He looked up at the darkening sky and told you,

“Aye, it was pourin’ cats and dogs a few minutes ago. Chasin’ me here, I’ll wager. Thought I’d wait it out here. Maybe get the service I’m due for.”

“This bike’s brand new,” you scoffed, “How did you put ten thousand miles on it already?”

He gave you a half-grin and admitted with a shrug,

“I like to get away.”

You nodded, and he dismounted, unzipping his jacket for comfort. You gave the bike a once-over, checking for any signs of trouble. As new as it was, you’d already been trained on it, so you felt confident you could help him. You mentioned your plan,

“Oil, brake pads, filters. Check your sensors. My Triumph cert is up to date, so we’ll just clean her up by the book. How does that sound, mister…?”

“Price. John Price. Sounds class, love.”

“Waiting room just in there, John,” you pointed over to the tiny little sitting room you’d added to the garage, “Got a library and some coffee. Should be fresh. Just made a new pot a few minutes ago.”

“Cheers,” he smiled, and it was the most handsome one you’d seen in a while. His full lips stretched into his cheeks, and his tanned skin crinkled up to his eyes.

The eyes themselves were a problem. They were a hue of blue you’d never seen, and they pinned you down like a wild animal, a hunter and his prey. But, all of that ferality was tied taut, held by a rope in his clenched fist, and his gnashing hungry teeth were kept from biting you, controlled by his tight-laced civility. All of that chivalry made you wonder what he was like when he was allowed a little freedom.

As he walked away from you, you ogled him. You weren’t even ashamed to do it. He was everything you wanted in a man. Him and his bike oozed a primal sort of power that you’d been craving, and you wanted a taste of that freedom.

His bike was his escape, that was for sure. Ten thousand mile service after only a few months of ownership was impressive. This man liked to ride long and often. There was plenty of evidence of wear and tear, but as rough as he had been with his ride, there was evidence of his love as well. The clean body, the mended tailpipe, evidence of a scuff polished away; it was all proof of his affection.

The service was easy and quick. As you were checking his sensors and finishing up the job, the first pitter patter of rain began to fall into the gravel drive. In the beginning, it was soft and sweet, just a few drops here and there. Then, over the short span of mere moments, it came down in a torrential pour, slamming itself into the ground and pummeling the pavement.

You watched it slip and slide off of your metal roof in sheets, and you got close enough to the edge so that you could feel the cool spray from the downpour, a few droplets spitting onto your nose and cheeks. A bright blue bolt of lightning streaked across the cloudy pall, followed by a deafening roar of thunder that resonated in the hollow of your chest.

Cleaning the oil from your hands as best you could, you went to deliver the bill to your customer. To your sick delight, he’d be trapped with you at least until the storm passed, and you crossed your fingers that he could do with a bit of company.

He was sitting on the wide couch in the waiting room, his hands prying open a book. When you looked at the spine, you noticed that he was deep into the first few chapters of Moby Dick.

“Having fun yet, John?”

“Enjoying the rain on this tin roof of yours. Makes me want to kip down here on your sofa. Love to fall asleep listenin’ to the storm.”

“Me, too,” you admit, nodding towards the book, “Has he caught the whale yet?”

John shook his head,

“No, we barely got out of the harbor. You work fast. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me though, love. I don’t fancy a ride out in this mess.”

“No problem. Take all the time you need.”

“D’ya mind?” He dug around in his jacket and pulled out a short, fat cigar.

You waved him on, motioning that it was alright with you, and he happily lit his stick, working an ambery, glowing tip until fiery smoke spilled from the end. You were about to turn and hide somewhere else, anywhere that you wouldn’t need to smell his burnt, woodsy scent. It was making you hungry for a puff of his cigar and a long lick of the inside of his mouth.

A little self-control please… You begged yourself.

He caught you as you started to leave, and the feeling of his hand on his surprised you with its warm sincerity. You looked down at him, but you didn’t pull away.

“Stay… for a bit. I was just gettin’ to the good part,” he said with a sly smile, holding up the book as if to offer it to you.

“Alright,” you replied, your voice sounding too small and too quiet in the small space.

You sat next to him, worrying over your oil-stained nails as he read aloud to you, pausing every now and then to smoke his cigar or to turn his pages. Slowly, you started to relax, and as you leaned back into the couch, the sound of his voice and the drumming of the rain blended together into a soporific haze. You caught yourself looking at him — staring at him — with hooded eyes, studying the way his lips and tongue and teeth formed his words. The dark bristles of his beard giving you a clear view of every micro-movement of his face.

He was looking at you, now, too. Staring at you. Every now and then, he’d glance back at the book, read a few lines, and then take a long pause to smoke and to meet your gaze.

Suddenly, he seemed to make a conscious choice. He sat forward, and his huge shoulders cast a shadow over you. He held out his cigar and asked,

“Fancy a smoke?”

You didn’t reply, but you took it from him ever so slowly, as if he might bite, and put the end in your mouth. You sucked in the smoke to taste the rich tobacco, and you let it roll around in your mouth before releasing it, letting it hit him in the chest and neck, billowing around his stoney jawline.

Then, he said something to you in a new voice. It was one you knew, but you hadn’t heard it in a very long time. It was desire,

“Pretty little thing, aren’t you, love?”

You let his compliment wash over you like the downpour outside. It soaked through, right to your bones. You took another drag from the cigar, earning yourself a deeper chuckle and a pleased, approving grin.

“You should see me when I’m out of these coveralls,” you quipped, certain that your smudged cheeks were now a rosy shade of crimson.

He took the cigar back from you and put the book down, leaning closer to you, positioning his knee between yours, forcing you to spread your legs. He smoked, filling the space between you, taking another drag for himself, breathing in and breathing out, trying to test the waters,

“Care to show me now?”

You met his smoldering gaze. The tip of his cigar had nothing on the glow from behind his eyes. He was poised and ready to pounce, a lion on a lamb.

You didn’t answer him. You simply watched as he unzipped your work coveralls and let the sleeves slink down your arms. You pulled them free, revealing what was underneath. You were braless, letting your heavy tits lay unbound in the soft fabric of your ribbed tank, preferring comfort over fashion.

His hand came up to cup your cheek, rubbing some of the smudged oil with his thumb. He leaned forward even further, breathing heavily with you, panting like he had run for miles, all for the sole purpose of brushing your sensitive bottom lip with his own, teasing you with your own taste, hungry for your body and ready to consume you in every way he knew how.

He began to kiss you slowly, languidly, as if you were both trapped in some world of slow motion where time need not exist. You need not be bothered with the past or the future. The present was enough, and it stretched between you forever. Each kiss deeper than the last, each touch more sensual, making your breath catch in your chest.

John pulled away from you, slowly untangling himself, looking at you as if he had been keeping some smoldering question inside of his chest. He moved so slowly, telegraphing his motions so you would know his intent. Rapt, you watched his hand drop to the hem of your tank, his thick fingers dancing along the seam, carefully pulling it away so that his warm hand could slide underneath.

Your whole body shuddered as his palm spread across your soft belly. His callused hands were rough against your skin, and the way he grabbed at you, greedy yet slow and savoring, made you feel like he had hypnotized you. You were frozen in place, submitting to his desire.

He looked up into your eyes, checking with you to see if you would allow him to venture further and then moving further anyway, unable to quell his lurid hunger. His fingers found the swell of your breast, the heavy flesh hanging like ripe, sweet fruit, ready to be tasted. A thumb slipped across your nipple, encouraging it to tighten into a little peak, just plump enough to fit into his wet mouth.

Without lifting your shirt off of you, he bent his head and suckled on your taut nipple through its fabric. He wet the cloth and your skin, and when he pulled his mouth away, the dampness lingered, teasing you with the memory and lingering on you, chilling your flesh. Another swipe of his thumb and you heard yourself let out quiet little mewls, whining and needy. His immediate, chuffed grin made you blush with shame.

So, you took your revenge. You reached your hand across the supple leather of his riding pants and found the tip of his fat cock hanging trapped and turgid halfway down his muscular thigh. You used your finger to draw tiny circles around his head, knowing he could feel it. To your satisfaction, his eyes fluttered closed, lost in the sensation.

Then, his hands plundered under your top, scrunching the fabric up to your collar, revealing your skin to him. As you messaged his heavy cock, you watched him sigh as he admired your curves, drinking you in like a desert palm, his hard root stretching towards its oasis.

“Take me out, love. Please,” he begged you softly, kissing you between his gentle whispering words, and you knew what he wanted.

You yanked at his button to pop it off, and you pinched at the zipper, listening to the metallic whir of its teeth as you freed him.

He wasn’t wearing anything under his leathers, which drove you wild. He must have been so sensitive during his ride, feeling every bit of the garment’s texture and folds as he straddled his machine.

You reached for him and he let out a dark groan. His voice became threatening all at once, and he grabbed at you with all of his might, drawing your attention with his words,

“Both hands… ungh, ahh, please. Please touch me with both of your hands, love.”

There was plenty of his length for you to comply, and even with both of your hands, his swollen, rigid girth was still a challenge to manage. You focused on his head, watching as his whole body responded to your touch.

John pulled you in for another kiss, forcing his tongue down your throat, filling your mouth with his heat, crushing you to his chest, abandoning all of his earlier tenderness in favor of lustful fury.

As he ravaged your mouth, you felt his cock slipping through your hands on its own and you realized that he was using his hips to thrust himself through your grip. You tried to help him, matching his pace, but that only spurred on his carnal want.

He was moaning into your mouth, and you could feel the hum of his joy against your lips. With each shameless thrust, he cried for you in that dark brimstone timbre, aching and full of longing.

“John…” you whispered, breaking away to catch your breath, saying his name like a prayer.

Adding to the drama, a long peal of thunder shattered the sky, killing the lights in your shop. But, you were both so worked up by one another, the shock of a blown fuse paled in comparison, and your eyes stayed locked on each other’s, bound together, unable to look away. Unwilling.

But, he paused, staring at you, wanting something from you, something more.

You gasped when he lifted you, rumpled clothes and all, right off the couch. He shouldered the door to the tiny room and walked quickly to his bike sitting you sideways on the seat. You braced yourself with one hand on the tank and one on the tail, waiting for his next whim.

He was working on your clothes, peeling off your coveralls and shucking off your layers until he found your panties. When he saw the fabric, he paused. You fretted for a moment until you felt the cool, stormy wind blow across the damp gusset. Then, you knew what he was looking at. You were soaking through your panties, and there he was, transfixed on the darkening stain.

“Wanna taste you, love. Want you in my mouth…”

John fell to his knees in a flash, his cock still free and flagging up and down, wet with his precome. You squirmed a bit, unsure of your scent and your sweat from your earlier work.

Those gentle eyes had been replaced with a sinister warning. He pinned you with them as if to say, move away and I’ll bloody drag you back.

He didn’t bother to kiss the softness of your belly nor your thighs. He wanted one thing, but you didn’t expect him to take you quite like this. He didn’t peel down your panties, instead eating you right through the thin cotton, sucking on the wet cloth and making lewd squelching noises, lapping his tongue over your soaking lips and sucking at your flavor with his eager lips.

“Oh, shit…” You lamented, feeling your body go slack, submitting to him and his power.

“Fuck…” He said between bites of his meal, “You’re so sweet… Let me… ungh, fuckin’ hell…”

He used his thumb to tug the fabric aside, revealing your gleaming pink flesh. And when he tasted you, skin on skin, John became obsessed. He was pushing his strong jaw so hard into you, working you with his mouth, making you rake your fingers through his hair just to hold onto something, you were afraid the bike might tip.

In one ruthless motion, he tore your panties from you, ripping the sides and tucking the ruined fabric into his fist. Then, he put that same hand on his cock and began to jerk himself off, rubbing your wet cloth all over his cockhead.

With his free hand, he grabbed the handlebar of the bike, pulling it down towards him, preventing it from falling, now able to eat you with as much reckless abandon as he liked.

His mouth moved in long, deep thrusts, fucking you with his scruffy face, suckling at the hardening body of your clit. His tongue pressed into your swollen lips, moving between them with forceful need. As he licked you, he moved lower and lower towards your wet hole, hoping to thrust his writhing muscle inside of you, wanting nothing more than to lick you dry.

Finally, he reached it, and the tip of his tongue slipped into your pussy, pressing through your slit and fucking you like his cock wanted to. You heard him elicit a gravelly, smoldering whine when he tasted your smooth center, and you watched as his eyes rolled back in his head, his brow furrowing in disbelief.

Meanwhile, the rain pounded in the open garage doorway, swirling and spitting under its ebon shroud. John cared very little about it, nor did he care that you and he were nearly naked, in full view of the street. The idea that anyone could drive up and see you there, caught in his jaws, made you lose control.

You tried to hold your voice down, but once he felt you start to come, he did everything he could to set you ablaze. His hand abandoned the handlebar, preferring instead to sink two of his large fingers inside of you, working with his tongue to stretch you open, giving him more of your ripeness to devour.

You keened like you were on fire, and maybe you were. You thought, as the flames licked up your legs and down your arms, that maybe you would burn right up. Maybe you were a flare, ready to sear a bright scorching light through his mouth, burning his throat like whiskey, brutal and cruel.

Your whole body had given in to the feeling as if you were an orchestra at the mercy of its conductor. If he wanted your kindling to catch, it would, and you would burn for him. You were his opus, trapped in a perpetual crescendo of his lust, an expression of his own fiery fate.

His mouth only left your body to cry out in his own right, growling out a breathless groan as he spilled his come into your panties, smearing his cock through his own emission and mixing it with yours.

Unable to maintain your balance, and unwilling to jeopardize his bike, you sank to the floor with him, feeling the cold concrete on your shins. John tugged you into his lap, panting into your neck, smelling strongly of your scent, his face and beard shining with it.

You breathed together, fondling what you could reach, cradling each other as if you’d found one another again after years apart. Penelope clutching at her Odysseus, recognizing him through a sea of lesser men.

“You alright, love?” John asked, still catching his breath, petting your cheek absentmindedly.

You nodded, affirming your well-being,

“Mmhm. You?”

“Aye,” he smiled, laughing quietly to himself, “But, now you’ve gone and done it.”

“What?” You smiled, enjoying his joy.

“Didn’t think runnin’ from the rain would be such a fuckin’ good time. Now, when it rains, I’ll be craving you.”

You smiled at him, letting him kiss your neck and cheek, planting his affection like little promises, deep under your skin.

“You’re always welcome back, rain or shine.”

“How about tonight at six; dinner at my flat?” He looked up at you, hopeful.

“As long as I get to ride this bike, it’s a date,” you teased.

He raised his eyebrows at your challenge, and then he gave you a lascivious grin,

“Don’t worry, love. I’ve got just the ride in mind.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated!

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chuunai · 5 months

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Hi hi! Would love to participate in your event if that’s cool

I was wondering if we could hav a Fyodor with scenario 2 and prompt 14

Idk if you want more details but I discovered your blog and I kinda got baby fever too sooooooo

Fire away friend

I’m sorry for making you sick : (

✧˚ · . my days are yours, yours - fyodor dostoevsky

how can a baby control his heart?

summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff, established relationship (marriage with reader), babies, babies and babies, SFW → minor mentions of death and overall fyodor trying to be a daddy while juggling killing the entire world. Spoilers for the last episode of BSD season five and the latest chapters of the manga.

Lord, she looked so much like him.

Rounded purple eyes and thick strands of black hair, she was his copy. Of course, genetically speaking, she was half his. And half yours. But Fyodor had a greater influence on your baby daughter. A squirming seven month old named Avdotya Fyodorovna Dostoevskya. Ironic, wasn’t it? That his child’s name meant good while he was evil?

It made sense, though. Yin and yang.

Putting down his pen, Fyodor looked over at the small makeshift crib that was next to his desk. In it was the sleeping Avdotya—Dunya, for short—wrapped up in cozy blankets and stuffed animals.

He’d worked enough for today.

Carefully picking up the newborn, his pale anemic hands cradled her, supporting her head as he held her to his chest. His heart sped up a bit when Dunya stirred a bit, but she ultimately didn’t wake up. She looked so calm and content in the moment. Fyodor shared the same feelings. Besides awe, of course.

For all of his planning and manipulation, he had never planned for a baby.

Sure, you were his wife, but he’d always use protection. An infant wouldn’t work with his current dangerous plans. Yet he somehow managed to knock you up. A completely unplanned variable in his plans. Yet it seemed so right. As a man of god, Fyodor couldn’t deny the blessing that God gave him.

His study door soon freaked open by your arrival as you quietly walked behind him, arms sliding around his neck in a tired way as your cheek pressed against the fluffy material of his ushanka.

“She’s doing okay?”

As if his little angel would ever be harmed.

“Of course, дорогой.”

He replied in an equally hushed tone. He turned his head slightly to the left, placing a gentle peck on your arm affectionately. For someone who regularly manipulated people who trusted him (albeit in a scared way), he could never find himself using you or his newfound family for his plans. God would disapprove of a man who hurt his family.

“You should rest. I’ll watch over her.”

It was only fair.

You had been watching Dunya constantly—babysitters and nannies couldn’t be hired due to his prolific crime record—while he was gone setting up his plans and relations. Fyodor had seen you cry over the stress multiple times. Each time he reassured you all would be better in due time. And it would be. When all the sinners of the world were gone, angels like you and Avdotya would be safe.

In the meantime though, he’d make you as happy as he could.

Feeling a gentle kiss on his cheek, Fyodor faintly smiled as you left for some much needed relaxation and sleep. Tucking his baby’s hair behind her tiny ears, he hummed a small lullaby.

He remembered that as a child his mother would sing some to him. It was one of the few comforting memories he had.

And his Avdotya should have the same experience.

Reaching the second verse of the lullaby, his deep voice quietly filled the room. He slowly rocked his baby, warmth flooding through his usually cold body. A peck on her perfect head.

He’d have to teach you these sorts of lullabies and cradle songs. While you knew a bit of Russian—limited to affectionate nicknames and general greetings—, you could do better. Perhaps you two could study together when Avdotya would nap. Him struggling with kanji, and you resting your head on his shoulder as you stared at Russian characters and committed them to memory.

Fyodor relaxed back into his chair, content with the familial moment.

The finale soon came.

He sat there for minutes afterwards, just taking in the sight of the life he created. Dazai was wrong. Fyodor was no demon, no, he was a god. He had created life, and so had God. And while others may point out the billions of other parents in the world, he’d merely dismiss their claims. They had birthed normal children.

Not an angel like his Dunya.

Could other children have such awe-inspiring eyes? Or the affinity she had for music just like her father—how she babbled and cooed in your lap while he played cello for the two of you. He knew she’d grow up to be something great like him. A firstborn always took after their father, in his opinion.

Standing up with little Avdotya in his arms, he walked to the nursery, passing by your shared bedroom where you were sleeping by now. Creaking open the door, he carefully navigated the dark room, lowering his daughter into her crib before carefully covering her with a warm blanket and her favorite stuffed toy.

A fuzzy penguin gifted by Sigma.

A lot of the nursery’s decorations were bought by Fyodor, but there were a few given by his fellow DOA members. Sadly, a majority of Nikolai’s gifts had to be scrapped. Dunya couldn’t use clown makeup or the miniature cherry bombs. A pity, really.

Fatherhood suited Fyodor rather well.

Flicking on a small nightlight, he soon left after a goodbye to his daughter. His footsteps pattered on the wooden floor, making his way to your bedroom to finally sleep off the day’s events.

Once again, the door slowly creaked open as he walked in. He already had his pajamas on—a baggy long black shirt and some black pants—, sliding into bed next to you as one hand found itself on your stomach, the other already playing with your hair. Fyodor admired your body. It grew his angel, and now it nourished her.

While you were adamant that you looked worse after birth, he could only say the opposite. All of the Renaissance paintings and sculptures had been wrong in their depictions of goddesses and heavenly figures. He could only see you as a true goddess who fell for a sinner like him.

Would such a goddess permit him to have another child with her?

Fyodor had grown up in a small family back in St. Petersburg. Just him and his mother. His father had left him long ago.

He didn’t want Avdotya to feel the same. Lonely.

Siblings would prevent that. Maybe two? Even three, if you felt up for it. He hadn’t said anything about it since you were still recovering and getting used to being a mother just to one child, but he oh so badly wanted a bigger family. More look a-likes of him and you.

“My goddess.”

His lips nuzzled against your hair, murmuring sweet affections and praise. Even he couldn’t have predicted such a thing like this. A wife. A daughter. A family of his own.

And even when weeks later he was stuck in Meursault with four other men playing Nikolai’s twisted game of escape, he thought about you. The plan would work, and he’d see you again after he faked his death. Sure, it might take weeks or months, but he’d come back. He’d made sure of it—having thought of the betrayal of his subordinates a while ago.

And when Dazai would later tug his severed arm out of the helicopter’s crash site, it wouldn’t have a ring on the ring finger.

That ring would be snugly set on his other hand.

They could take his body, his wealth, his intelligence.

But they couldn’t take him away from you and the vow you two had made. Until death do you part.

Tags: @twst-om-lover, @sinfulthoughtsposts, @xxcandlelightxx

Help this took so long

#bungou stray dogs #bungou gay dogs #aspiring writer #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #chuunai #fanfic #fem reader #baby fever #baby fic #fyodor x reader #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd tag #bsd imagines #bsd fluff #bsd spoilers

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