#I lapdog :] :D

[cabozers]

They called Caboose Church's lapdog in the new season

#my art #rvb #red vs blue #caboose #michael j caboose #I lapdog :] :D #🐾

[local-fire-dumpster]

Look, logically speaking I know that Zoro's devotion to Luffy isn't blind and that he'll put his foot down when Luffy does something he absolutely does not approve of (e.g. Usopp disrespecting Luffy in Water 7) but like...9 out of ten times Zoro will still just go along with whatever the hell Luffy wants. Luffy will say "cut it" and zoro will pull out his swords, no questions asked and start cutting.Luffy will catapult himself and zoro through 5 different buildings and all zoro will do is groan and suck it up unlike nami and sanji who will most definitely beat his ass for it. This man is all bark and no bite and from an outsiders perspective, absolutely whipped for Luffy.

#Like I really get that ppl don't like it when zoro is referred to as Luffys lapdog but sometimes this man isn't doing himself any favors lol #one piece #roronoa zoro #zoro #monkey d. luffy #luffy #monkey d luffy

[powdermelonkeg]

Archwizard Gale lore???

Okay, SO! My personal headcanons for Gale's powers, both as archwizard and Chosen of Mystra, are based upon the following:

D&D makes a distinction between "archmage" and "archwizard," with the former being a spellcaster dedicated to the arcane arts and either: the counsel of royalty, a lich tyrant, or a reclusive hermit, all with multiple apprentices, and the latter being "an arcane spellcaster of extremely high power who successfully claimed a floating enclave," that specification coming from the time of Netheril.

Gale is NOT royal counsel, NOT pursuing lichdom, NOT a hermit (willingly), does NOT have apprentices when he first makes the claim, and does NOT have a floating enclave.

Despite these, he still claims "archwizard" as a title. This is significant, especially from Waterdeep, where the most powerful wizards in the world gather, including Laeral Silverhand (another of Mystra's Chosen, immortal to a degree, and Open Lord of Waterdeep) and Vajra Safahr (current Blackstaff and Archmage of Waterdeep).

Bonus points for his significance, he is Gale of Waterdeep. His personally chosen moniker marks him as outstanding among Waterdhavians. There might be a handful of people named Gale in Waterdeep, but there is only one Gale of Waterdeep. This is further backed up by Lorroakan recognizing him, with his only reason for Gale being lesser than someone who supposedly figured out immortality being that Gale was Mystra's discarded lapdog.

Gale is skilled in all manner of magic. This is confirmed directly in his epilogue, where you can question him about his choice teaching the School of Illusion, and he says that he wanted to teach ALL the classes there, but the staff told him no. That includes schools you wouldn't normally associate with him, like Divination and Necromancy.

Based on all of that, I've decided that "archwizard," as Gale means it, is a term referring to a wizard who's multiclassed into all their subclasses.

Does this make him overpowered? Yes. But he's an archwizard, prodigy, and Chosen, he's MEANT to be within the bounds of his own lore.

In addition, I also believe him to be an untrained Storm Sorcerer, based upon the following:

Sorcerers and wizards differ in that sorcerers know magic intrinsically, while wizards study it to use it.

When talking to Halsin as Origin Gale, you can tell him that as a baby, you summoned a whole pack of rabbits. Presumably, baby Gale was NOT reading and comprehending arcane textbooks.

Gale has an intrinsic understanding of the Weave, by his own admission, saying he could compose it rather than just control it. He was also casting third level spells like Fireball at eight years old.

Gale's theme is all about storms: his name is Gale, he occasionally says "A rough tempest I will raise" in combat, almost all his official art has him controlling lightning, and his robe is thunder purple. This continues into God!Gale's design, where he has literal glowing lightning bolts framing his eyes, and his outfit is lightning blue.

K'ha'ssji'trach'ash: On his own, the mephit is pretty self-contained; it's a magma mephit capable of revealing the true form of a True Ressurection scroll. However, the key to getting him to do this is to respond to the question "what is my name" in Ignan with the correct answer. After which, K'ha'ssji'trach'ash says "T'i n'uthrantha m'ahthra Gale." We don't know what this means, but it's clear that he's talking to us, about Gale, possibly thanking us or asking us to pass a message along. This implies that he doesn't speak Common, or else he would, because we answered correctly. Why do I bring this up? Storm Sorcerers have an innate ability called Wind Speaker, which allows them to speak Primordial (including Aquan, Auran, Ignan, and Terran). Thus, Gale can speak to/understand K'ha'ssji'trach'ash, despite his known/studied languages being Common, Celestial, Giant, and Draconic.

Because he's untrained, and rather than Storm Sorcery being just a Lv1 flavor bit that does little, I've decided that Gale has access to the class features of Storm Sorcery without access to its spell slots or Metamagic, that way it's reflective of his power without training.

With both of these conclusions, both archwizard and sorcerer, I've decided to pick and choose which class features are from which iteration of both classes, because BG3 and official D&D have a few key differences that were mostly changed for gameplay reasons. I've then taken those and added more flavor to them, based on the already-given flavor of D&D and effects of BG3, doing away with the mechanical side of things for storytelling reasons.

On top of this, because the maximum level you can reach in BG3 is Lv12, and we know that the Orb consumes "the greatest of [his] talents," I've decided that the Orb consumes any ability beyond Lv12 until its removal.

That being said, beyond whatever spells and slots you care to give him, the powers I think Gale has pre-tadpole are:

Abjuration

Arcane Ward: When Gale casts Abjuration spells, residual magic shields him from the worst of incoming hits

Projected Ward: Gale can extend Arcane Ward to someone nearby instead of himself

Improved Abjuration: On short rest, Gale can strengthen Arcane Ward to sustain itself beyond a single hit

Evocation

Sculpt Spells: Gale can control his Evocation spells and keep them from harming allies

Potent Cantrip: Gale can force enemies that resist his cantrips to take half damage from them anyways

Empowered Evocation: Gale's Evocation spells are particularly deadly (based on +INT modifier to damage rolls)

Necromancy

Grim Harvest: Gale can harness the power released when a spell kills a creature to heal himself, UNLESS it's undead or a construct

Undead Thralls: Animate Dead: Gale can reanimate a corpse

UT: Additional Undead: Gale can efficiently harness the power it would take to reanimate one corpse to reanimate two corpses with Animate Dead

UT: Better Summons: Gale's reanimated dead can take more of a beating than others' dead

Inured to Undeath: Gale's been exposed to necromancy enough that he's resistant to necrotic damage, and his life force capacity can't be reduced (this one in particular helps with the "Netherese bile" flowing through his veins)

Conjuration

Create Water: Gale can call forth rain at will (BG3's feature over D&D's to align more with storm sorcery)

Benign Transposition: Teleport: Gale can teleport up to 30ft, and can use that to swap places with an ally

Focused Conjuration: Gale's concentration on conjuration spells can't break due to pain

Enchantment

Hypnotic Gaze: So long as Gale holds eye contact with someone, he can charm them into stopping everything they're doing and staring at him in a daze

Instinctive Charm: Reflexively, Gale can make a split-second charm attempt to redirect an attack at someone directly nearby

Split Enchantment: Gale can efficiently harness the power it would take to enchant one person and instead enchant two targets at once

Divination

Portent: Gale can focus and gain split-second glimpses into the immediate future (such as the next blow about to be thrown in a fight)

Expert Divination: Casting divination comes naturally enough to Gale that he can cast divination spells using a lower spell slot

Third Eye: Gale can increase his powers of perception and gain a very limited Darkvision/Ethereal vision at will, as well as read any language

Illusion

Improved Minor Illusion: Gale can cast illusory effects with incredible ease

See Invisibility: Gale's experience with illusions lets him detect invisibility spells at work, focus on them, and see through them

Illusory Self: Gale can create an identical double of himself reflexively to confuse opponents

Transmutation

Experimental Alchemy: Using transmutation magic, Gale can more efficiently refine potion ingredients, occasionally enough to create a second potion

Transmuter's Stone: Gale can lock some of his transmutation magic into a stone, granting whoever holds it an effect of his choice from the following: Constitution proficiency, Darkvision, extra speed, resistance to acid/cold/fire/lightning/thunder damage

Shapechanger: Gale can polymorph himself once a day without consuming a spell slot (only into beasts with a CR of 1 or less)

Storm Sorcery

Wind Speaker: Gale can speak, read, and write Primordial (Aquan, Auran, Ignan, and Terran)

Tempestuous Magic: Gale can summon gusts of wind around him immediately after casting a spell greater than a cantrip. These winds are strong enough to propel him in flight for ten feet

Heart of the Storm: Gale has resistance to lightning and thunder damage. In addition, whenever he casts a spell that deals lightning or thunder damage, the magic that erupts is stormy and more powerful than other kinds of magic at equal level

Storm Guide: Gale can subtly control the weather around him, causing rain to stop falling in a 20 foot sphere centered on him, or wind to blow in a different direction in a 100 foot sphere centered on him

Feats

These are based on what I, personally, think make the most sense for him pre-tadpole:

Ability Increase: +2 to INT score

Elemental Adept: Thunder: Spells/attacks ignore resistance to thunder, and when a spell he casts causes thunder damage, it can't critically fail

Elemental Adept: Lightning: Spells/attacks ignore resistance to lightning, and when a spell he casts causes lightning damage, it can't critically fail

Okay, so Gale's crazy powerful, right? What could he have possibly lost that's greater than all this?

Well...

Abjuration: Spell Resistance: Gale was in tune enough with the Weave that he could resist spells (as well as gaining advantage on saving throws against them)

Evocation: Overchannel: Gale could deal maximum damage on a 1-5 level spell without ill effect on first cast, but suffered unresisted necrotic damage when using it again

Necromancy: Command Undead: Gale could bring undead made by other wizards under his control

Conjuration: Durable Summons: Gale could give anything he summoned a temporary shield against damage (30 temp HP)

Enchantment: Alter Memories: Gale could make someone unaware they were charmed by him, as well as make them forget something that happened during that charmed period

Divination: Greater Portent: Gale used to be able to predict more split second decisions ahead with ease

Illusion: Illusory Reality: Gale used to be able to pull shadow magic together into illusions and make them, temporarily, real. He can still do a limited version of this, but only via concentration to keep the threads together (hence the "anatomically correct" illusory wizard in the Drow twins scene; shadow magic is NOT the same as the Shadow Weave)

Transmutation: Master Transmuter: Gale could consume magic stored in his transmuter's stone in one go, using it to transmute one object into another, remove curses, diseases, and poisons, raise the dead, or reduce a creature's apparent age by up to 30 years

Storm Sorcery: Storm's Fury: Gale could react with lightning damage when struck physically Wind Soul: Gale was immune to lightning and thunder damage, could fly at a speed of 60 feet, and could reduce his flying speed to 30 feet for 1 hour to make four additional people fly

Yeah. Ouch. And that's not even including his former Chosen abilities.

Gale's Chosen abilities

Silver Fire: Gale could command pure energy of the Weave in the form of silver-white flame, which, at his command, could destroy anything in its path, banish dead magic areas, restore torn Weave, purge external magic and psionic effects from his own body, teleport without error to the last location he used the ability at, or cast spells without verbal, somatic, or material components

Mantle: Gale could cast the dangerous Mantle spell without suffering any ill effects, while other wizards casting the spell would suffer a drain of life force as long as it persisted

Weave Detection: Gale could detect magic's presence without the use of a spell

Weave Tapping: Gale could cast high level spells repeatedly without losing a spell slot, although this was discouraged by Mystra

On the page for Mystra's Chosen abilities, it says that sometimes her Chosen gained an immunity to magic, as well as disease and poison. I don't think Gale was so lucky, however; in the House of Healing, he mentions that he once turned himself in to a hospice in Waterdeep for a "bout of ruddy pox." Him having turned himself in implies he was an adult at the time, and should, therefore, already be Mystra's Chosen.

All that to say: behold, Gale of Waterdeep, in his original splendor. How the mighty have fallen.

#bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #long post #ask bee #the neat thing about the storm sorcery stuff is that it's JUST close enough in proximity to what gale's already capable of #that he probably didn't even give it a second thought #he can fly at lv18? he could fly at 8yo. doesn't matter #lightning and thunder immunity? well mystra's chosen get magical immunity sometimes. must be that! #his lightning/thunder spells are stronger? they're his specialties! he studied those! #i love it

[jhuzen]

a what? [m.reader]

this… idk what this is. it’s very indulgent so excuse the very chill grammar. my head is hammered by all the hot men in hsr. so here. yes, they won me over (jfc how could they not my god, i’ve been waiting on them for months) ☠️ so here’s a self-indulgent cat-boy alignment from some tall men in hsr. i’ve been playing since the release and i’m already just a few exps away from level 40 send help.

𖦹 nsfw/suggestive contents, hcs ig, i use the speculative name for the trailblazer hehe, top reader :’D, this is basically a shitpost but also not LMAO.

GEPARD LANDAU — official dogboy, a lapdog too if you will

is this even a question at this point?

he’s your little pup (maybe not so little), and he radiates that golden retriever vibes. he’s a little more serious than that, sure, but rest assured, he’s always on you when you need him and he’s not particularly swamped with his guard duties as the captain.

he never fails to light up every time you pass by him when he’s out on patrol. he appreciates your little visits of course, sometimes even stopping by to bring him some food when you can. but there’s always something so magical whenever he sees you around the city, just minding your own business, not really aware that he can see you from his post.

and there’s just a spike of serotonin in gepard’s brain every time he ‘bumps’ into you in one of your personal excursions, romancing you with such subtlety (it’s really not much subtle, everyone and their mother in belobog knows you and him are together).

he thinks he’s so slick, trying to smooth talk you, when really, the tips of his ears are bright red, while you, completely unfazed only tried to hold in a laughter. what a trooper your boyfriend truly is!

serval thinks she should be getting second hand embarrassment from her brother’s actions towards you, but you both just looked so sweet that she just had to enjoy the view of you humoring her stiff as hell brother. he’s way too serious on the field (rightfully so), but it was all the more endearing to see a bit of that innocent glee that gepard somehow manages to manifest with you around.

he’s your good dogboy bro, always ready to serve you. though that doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate getting spoiled. your massages, especially your back rubs, are the highlight of his day after a grueling training — after his nice hot shower, with you guiding him all the way to your shared bedroom to give him a nice massage, it’s absolute bliss for him.

the cute sighs and the way his face becomes scrunched up as you worked the knots away from his muscles was adorable.

and if… the mood provides it, often times it leads to something a little bit more intimate than your wholesome little act of service.

gepard is a babygirl through and through man. he takes everything that you give him like a champ — extremely cooperative and will do anything as you say. maybe it’s because he likes being ordered around for once, maybe it’s because he finds it incredibly attractive to see you take charge… it could go either way and it drives him nuts.

he’s very loud, so you will be entertained at the plethora of ways gepard has to come up with just so he can’t be heard by the other neighbors while you completely wreck him.

handle with care after, please, he has to go to work the next day! we can’t have the famed captain of the silvermane guards limping around >:((

𐂂

SAMPO KOSKI — absolute mid with the way he’s a dog for seeking attention and a cat for being such a little bitch

congrats! you have a weird man for a boyfriend. the man that roams the streets of belobog be it in the underworld or overworld.

you vaguely recall the first time you and him met was when he was trying to persuade an overworld citizen in buying something, and you, as shameless as you are, moved towards him and squeezed the skin of his exposed waist, making the poor man yelp.

you gave him one questionable look before slut-shaming him with that getup, but not before buying your much needed supplies and leaving a sack of belobog currency.

admittedly, your relationship with sampo began as a transactional one. you buy stuff from him and he rewards you with a relatively risqué entertainment that your old folks would certainly faint from if they knew in the first place. but, as it turns out, even such a peculiar relationship can grow an oasis of genuine fondness for each other.

your dates before were just you and him meeting up in his place, hanging out, and then both of you just go on your separate ways. nowadays, it’s him that comes inside your house, incredibly woeful and in need of your attention and you oblige him regardless of how whiny he is.

oh, right, yes. sampo is whiny, have you seen him around his comrades? the man has the ‘woe is me’ attitude every now and then, and more often than not, you instigate that form of reaction whenever you tease him with a grin on your face.

there’s reasonable (or so i hope) amount of you calling out his outfit and why he feels the need to expose his waist only. sampo said it’s to attract customers like you, and you gotta hand the win on him on that one. though, it was becoming far more evident that you no longer see him as just an entertainment value and you as his source of income.

so. bloody. needy. it’s like he can’t live without your attention — thank the stars that the ban between the overworld and the underworld was lifted eventually so he can visit you more on the surface. one minute he skirts out of your home after some good fucking and then the next, he crawls back to you pathetically like a kicked puppy.

though, that is only to say that you got sampo absolutely hooked with your touches that he feels still lingering on his skin — you had an affinity for just harassing his poor waist while you call him names. he loves it anyway.

his clinginess comes with merit though, he appreciates the skin contact and you appreciate that chest of his to lay on. absolute king. if you tell him that his tits are the only selling point of why you finally fell for him, he will sulk and just sigh all day, looking at you with such disappointment.

“so i’m just a slab of meat to you, huh?” — sampo koski, xxxx

“pretty sure what’s in here are fats.” — you, nuzzling your face in his chest, xxxx

honestly, dating sampo feels like a one night stand, considering that he’s willing to limp away from your home in the crack of dawn, but it also feels just as endearing when he seeks you out or if you do the seeking, you could see how genuinely delighted sampo is to have you near him.

𐂂

JING YUAN — certified cat boy that’s just too good at fucking [with] you

mercilessly sly and an absolute mastermind, jing yuan has his fair share of mischief in the first place and you aren’t one he can spare despite having the honor of being the famed general’s partner.

you’re not so much of a fighter, you’re just a humble assistant to fu xuan (she disapproves of your poor taste in men though), but you learned to sleep with one eye open at the cost of you getting completely mauled to death by a general in need of his lover’s touch. he jumps at you with little to no warning, and you’re not certain if you should be proud of his stealth skills or just straight up be terrified lest you wake up to a succubus sucking you dry.

all that aside though, jing yuan is a passionate partner behind closed doors. he might look passive, but he’s sure to constantly be listening to your mumbling, even down to you just listing down what you need to buy for your home. he loves every part of you undoubtedly.

though, he likes to randomly charge you these fees wherein the currency is your warm hug. he could be a lot taller than you and still drape himself to your side while you hold him with one arm all the while cooking with the other.

a big, biiiiig cat, that’s for sure. and he accepts it, but on the account that you use it to tease lil ol’ him, get ready to be milked dry or at the very least, deprived of any form of affection from your cat.

he’s got a bit of an attitude too. he dreads the fact that you have a far more gentle disposition to his subordinates compared to him. you’re always so hard on him on work days, it makes him feel so lonely.

alas he has a remedy for that, particularly something you didn’t like at all.

mischief and a bored jing yuan on slow days are days you reminded yourself not to enter his office on, just to be safe and not get lured into his silly tricks. it always somehow fails, considering that he still is the general, and even though you are acting as fu xuan’s guide/assistant more than the general’s right hand man, you can’t refuse his calls because it’s still one of your responsibilities.

your cunning partner made sure to take advantage of that and cue… you writhing and breathless on his seat while he helped himself to your… offering from under the table. he promises he will be quick, but jing yuan is insatiable. for every time this happens, once or twice, a cloud knight would walk in to look for their general, and you had to talk to them without even giving away the embarrassing position you’re in.

hands down, a pillow princess if he’s not riding you to death. he’s the dozing general, but when the mood calls for it, he can take charge and just… leave you dry. so good luck with that.

cherishes the aftercare, he loves the slow intimate moments between you and him after. and if you’re a god at it, you can’t ever make him leave the bed, ever.

you once said, “oooh big stretch” when your beloved general did so one morning. that was the first and quite possibly the last time that you had him completely speechless for a good second. and that was saying a lot, considering that he always has the last word in your conversations. it became a core memory lmao.

𐂂

BLADE — another ultra catboy… except it’s the kind of cat that demands a lot from you after scratching your face

how in the many worlds did you ever pull this tormented man and his big sword? it’s concerning, really. kafka finds it amusing though that you even managed to make a space for yourself in blade’s little emo heart.

just laying it out there, you and blade babysit silver wolf and there’s no getting out of it apparently. kafka already placed you as the voice of reason when the one time she sent out only blade to look after silver wolf while you were off stalking the astral express gang, he dressed like a hobo, so much that he became extremely suspicious in sight more than he ever could dressed as just himself.

that aside, blade is probably one of the most demanding lovers you have dated (threateningly jealous at times too). no one can top him (but you ehe), he’s like a grumpy cat, literally swiping at you on the first few months before suddenly caving and asking you for almost everything.

really he just misses you, but he’s not into admitting such a fact. for the years that he’s gone through, whatever it may have been, you who did not care about who he was before was something that drew him in even more, you went at your own pace and it was no different when you became his. there was a sense of comfort that you brought to him.

so anyway, demanding partner that wants nothing but you. he’s extremely protective, which you found endearing, until you realized he will point a sword even to a little kid who so much as insults your face. not really good when you’re gathering intel when elio asks you both to do so.

dates with blade either includes the stellaron hunters because they are very fond of your relationship and are very nosy… or just you and him cooped up in your room, sleeping together, or ‘sleeping together’. not all too grand, but on missions that elio sends you both out on, you take the time to indulge your beloved and eat on different places, trying out delicacies of every particular world you visited in. blade doesn’t say much, but with the way his hand grips onto yours tightly already says a lot.

just throwing it out there, he is… quiet in bed. a grunter or a gasper, but if you really, really hit the right spot, he gives the deepest whine that leaves him shaking.

you either handle him with care or if he asks for it, go rough on him. like what was said, blade knows what he wants and will demand it from you all the same, no exceptions. and if you fail to live up to his expectations, he will move himself all the while glaring at you with so much disappointment.

he has… insane stamina, and if you can’t keep up, you better start working on that. the last thing that you want is to disappoint your vengeful boyfriend that has a lot of issues on his back. and while it’s not too bad of a sight to see your beloved imitate a sulking cat, it’s not so good when he ignores you. it’s not just about sex, if you so much as get that disappointing stare, best make it up to him and treat him like he’s your everything (as you should).

you once saw kafka and silver wolf planning out wedding destinations for you and blade at some point. you are unsure how to feel about your comrade’s deep involvement in your relationship — even more so when elio suggested the big wedding after you lot have accomplished your mission to the universe.

anyway, to say the least, your catboy is overly possessive and knows what he wants and can and will demand it from you. but even with such an overbearing personality and a terrifying look on his pretty face, you were already well versed in the blade language.

he thanks you on nights when you’re just out cold, probably tired from a mission, pressing a soft kiss on the side of your head. this man may have already considered elio’s proposal of the wedding date (jk).

𐂂

DAN HENG — third cat in a row. are all xianzhou men cats? but he’s the cat that’s quietly watching you, always listening

what do you mean he’s a [redacted for spoilers]? absolutely not. this man is a cat through and through.

the cat that silently watches you from afar while you do your own work. perhaps it’s because you always offer a sense of tranquility that dan heng found himself deeply enamored with you. you were just… so peaceful. it helped a lot, your presence soothed his deeply rooted anxieties born from his past. it’s as simple as you just shrugging and telling him, “why bother with anything else when i am alright where i am right now,” and dan heng fell hard.

you are as expressive as you can get, and can even get on the trailblazer and march’s antics. but the fact that you were mature enough to let yourself be resigned to the fate of time, that you were able to accept things as they are far better than anyone could, it was something your dearly beloved dan heng admired. in a sense, he also wanted to emulate whatever you’ve got going on.

bettering himself even more just because he loves you? goals. you changed this man and that was a sworn promise that he will never ever leave you from then on. always prowling around you, babysitting march 7th with you, reluctantly holding the trash the trailblazer rummages through with you, teaching old man welt how to use his beacon with you, etc.

that’s it, you can never pry dan heng out of your life anymore (unless you ask him to, in which case, please don’t, the man already has a lot to carry, how do you expect him to bear the weight of a broken heart from someone he thought he found happiness in?).

this catboy definitely lacks the expressiveness that you have, but just like any other stoic cat owner out there, you’ve basically read him well at that point. it’s almost as if you have the urge to make a guidebook about your boyfriend, and the aeons know that everyone in the astral express will eat it up.

he’s a little hard to coax at first to be more open in the beginning parts, but give him some time and he will be quicker to pry open than any other food that has an equally hard shell.

same thing in your more… intimate moments. give him some time to get used to things, especially if you’ve got far more experience at this sort of activity. go gentle, he loves the cradling embrace every time you ease yourself into him. he gets shy randomly out of nowhere in the middle of your little session, so do be patient.

though rest assured, he will grow bolder, eventually asking you to do all sorts of things that even you weren’t aware he knows about. he’s very eager to learn from you all the more, not just about the things that he prefers but what you also want! he’s extremely observant with your reactions, where you like to be touched.

let him take control every once in awhile, let him know that even in something as intimate as this, he can have a say. let him ride you until whenever, let him go at his own pace and he absolutely will lose his mind over that. the feeling of your arms around him, securing him in a tight hug while he drapes himself over you? dan heng will go nuts.

he’s also… very vocal. but he tries his best to keep it to a minimum lest you both let everyone in the express know what’s happening. usually though, you two only get frisky when everyone’s off the train and the only left are you, him, and dear ol’ pom-pom.

aftercares are everything to him, there’s something so touching at the fact that you are more than willing to still get up after being so spent just to make sure he’s comfortable after. you’re making this man cry, damnit! too good, too good.

never underestimate the tight grip he has on you — he’s usually the big spoon and he never hesitates to cling onto you. you’re like the safety that he finally found after running away from the things that trouble him. and every day with you is a day he always looked forward in waking up to.

𐂂

CAELUS — what the fuck is this? it’s not a dog or a cat. it’s a fucking trash panda.

ah yes, a raccoon with rabies (see: stellaron)

honestly, there’s no telling what is wrong with your boyfriend. it is… terrifying tbh. but you promised to be a supportive partner no matter how unnerving it is to see your beloved rummage through myriads of trash cans around belobog. more than once or twice, he has come up to you with a trash bag and even brought you a golden one.

you once asked what their use would be, and caelus just gave you a carefree smile while saying “we eat them to have better and stronger attacks against the enemy!” you quickly called dan heng and march to restrain him.

he texts you at the most ungodly hours. you don’t normally sleep at the same time as the other trailblazers since you took up the mantel in keeping watch of the express with pom-pom while the lot of you traversed through the heavenly galaxies of the universe. and because of that, your boyfriend just texts you until he falls asleep.

and when you are asleep in the day, before he heads out, he makes sure to tuck you in real good with a kiss for extra measure. seriously, he’s way too sweet for his own good. once or twice, you’ve caught him while you’re barely awake and he still manages to leave you flustered.

missions in different worlds means having to taste the myriad of delicacies a certain nation in a world has to offer. you both once ended up in a remote broken up island when the express made a quick stop in this one particular world that has… what do they call those again? archons? and you and caelus went ham on the dango milk (there was a distinct lack of trash cans around and everyone was safe from his addiction).

he loves you all too much, to the point where he’s attached to your hip, going wherever you go. getting all sulky when someone had your eye for a little bit longer. in that same nation in a world you stopped over, your eyes just happened to gaze a second longer at this young man with long braided blonde hair. though you were more interested in the tiny floating thing beside him, your raccoon was not able to inhale some copium and went all pouty at you.

either he ignores you, or he sends you a batch of sad pom-pom stickers in your beacon.

just wrap him in a blanket and fuck him silly, it can make him forget about the tiny things he was mad at you for. and just like dan heng, he can be very loud. so you kinda have to keep shushed up, a kiss usually does the trick however, so it shouldn’t be too hard to manage your little rowdy trailblazer.

he’s willing to take charge every now and then, he also still wants to make you feel good, after all! but he’s more of a pillow princess too, fuck him sideways and that gets him going, it makes him cry actual tears and alas, it was a blessing in your eyes to see him plead for you all the while trying to muffle his own sobs.

and after doing his head in, it is a must to spoon him after you clean him up. and maybe formulate a half-assed response when march comes knocking on your door, asking if you both fought or… let her come to an impending realization and just… make her not look at the both of you for a good week straight.

either way though, caelus is your pretty boy, always armed with witty teasing remarks and shitposts and a lot more stickers of pom-pom ready to flood your private messages with him.

10/10 -5 for the trash can obsession. ehe.

#you might be asking #wheres luocha or welt #well #i still have honkai trauma #particularly otto trauma LMAO #meanwhile old man welt #i feel like a homewrecker since he literally has a son and a speculated wife answimef #dw i will write #I PROMISE I HAVE SOMETHING IN STORE #maybe i’ll post it tmrw? #maybe #For now have this shitpost #hsr x reader #hsr x male reader #honkai star rail x male reader #gepard x male reader #sampo x male reader #jing yuan x male reader #blade x male reader #dan heng x male reader #caelus x male reader #jhuzen’s stupid hcs

[dollwritesarchive]

one of my favorite headcanons for dio is that he doesn't allow his darling to wear panties. maybe even forbids it. he just loves easy access <3

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, dubcon, edging, fingering, little bit of degradation/humiliation because dio is and always will be a big meanie, almost blade play ( his sharp ass nails ), suggested past abuse / sexual conditioning ( from dio ), orgasm denial / control, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ it’s always a good day when i get to write filth for the man, the myth, the legend: dio brando. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. thanks for reading < 3

“Do you even have the faintest clue why panties are forbidden, pet?” Dio asks, without looking up from the book resting against his crossed knees. “Page.”

with your fingers trembling, you obediently flip the page he’s done reading, shaking your head with a muffled and shy, “Nn— Nn.” with the hemming of your skirt stuffed into your mouth, you’re forced to bite down on it and keep it in place, high and out of the way of your vampire lord’s malignant digits.

the room was icy cold, but you weren’t trembling because of that. your thighs were shaking and sticky from his constant, torturously slow stroking of your sex. the length of his finger slotting between your weeping folds to probe, and you clench around air with a timid whimper. then, his thick knuckle grazed in circles, until your back arched and you tried to ride it. he would, then satisfied with your desperation to be stretched open, drag the sharpest point of his dagger-like, abysmal nail to tease your tender clit, threaten to cut into you.

your body wants to jerk back, escape his cruel taunting, but you were trained much better than that. you stood as still as you could, with your knees bent inwards against each other so that they don’t buckle, and watch his hand disappear between your legs as he tenderizes your sex, and then reappear a few moments later, sticky with your essence.

“No?” he teases, quirking a brow, but his crimson eyes stay locked on the page he’s currently reading, “Of course not. Why should you? After all, does a lapdog understand why it is that her master smacks her muzzle for yapping too loudly? Or does she simply accept that to yowl incessantly will get her popped in her pretty, little face?” there were memories behind his metaphor— the scariest moments of your time with Dio, when you disobeyed or annoyed him. you, too, had found your cheek stinging from his massive palm making contact, and had been banished from his lap to sleep on the cold, hard stone floor for your insolence.

“Page.”

you turn to the next. and you nod to show that you understand: it didn’t matter if you knew why Dio put the rules in place that he did for you, all that mattered was that you obeyed them.

“But, I will tell you.” two fingers worm their way to spread your netherlips apart, and you mewl and grip bundles of chiffon with your teeth, saliva soaking through the fabric. “I will never allow you to wear panties because of this right here. How easy it is to edge your soft, warm cunt when she’s completely exposed. Vulnerable.” when you shudder at the sordid way each syllable rolls off his sinful tongue, you catch a peek at his impish grin, before he jabs his middle finger against your entrance, with just enough force to feel your canal try to welcome the digit in, but he doesn’t slip it inside.

“L—Lord D—Dio!” you cry, the need to feel him take you all but overwhelming and you careen against his hand, hoping to coerce his fingers inside, “P—pleeeethhh…” you mumble, slurred, through your makeshift gag.

“I will have your little cunt drooling and tender for me whenever I please. Like she is right now, so hungry for cock that you can hardly stay upright. Milking air, wishing, begging for me to fuck it. You want me right now, don’t you? You want nothing more than for me to hollow you out? Break your body and your mind with my cock?”

you nod fervently, eyelids heavy with lust from his words alone, and your hips twitch and wriggle, whining for him to do whatever he wanted to you.

his eyes turn up from the page, and stare at your visage, nearly convulsing on his palm, before his tongue scrapes over a pearly fang, one signature dimple visible in the candlelight as he croons. “How much longer can you take this teasing, I wonder? Minutes? Hours?” you were shaking your head, hot tears in the corners of your eyes, but he kept going, as if he enjoyed how nervous the idea of being edged for hours made you. how frightened it made you. “Or perhaps, I leave you soiled and needy now, and play with you every day following, you’ll wake up, tied to my bed, with me between your legs, sucking on your sugary cunt— bringing you right to the very cusp of orgasm and then snatching it away from you no matter how you beg and cry for a release, until you’re so sensitive that the very sound of my voice in the dark alone forces you to cum.” your eyes roll back, defeated and moaning pathetically as he pulls his hand back from between your hips. your jaw hangs slack; the skirt of your dress sagging back into a skewed version of its place, and Dio shoves his dripping fingers into your mouth instead, forcing you to taste just how badly you want him, pushing them deep until you gurgle and choke on them. “The possibilities to torment you are endless and exciting, my love, and that’s why you will never wear panties again. Turn the Page.”

#dio brando x you #dio brando #dio brando x reader #dio brando imagine #dio brando smut #dio #dio x reader #dio x you #dio smut #dio imagine #jjba #jjba imagine #jjba imagines #jjba x reader #jjba x you #jjba smut #jojo’s bizzare adventure x reader #jojo’s bizarre adventure smut #jojo’s bizarre adventure

[swap-and-possessions]

My Father's Plaything

Do they get tired of it? Possessing their son's bodies? Of course, not. Why would Richard and Trevor get tired of tasting their lost prime, to feel what it means to be strong and attractive? They weren't tired, but their sons surely were.

"D- dad! Please… No more," Troy begged. He watched as the days passed quickly, lost as his father possessed his body. He saw how close friends left; and how they were replaced swiftly with cock-hungry lapdogs desperate for the penetration of his massive cock.

"Open up, boy! I don't want to hear any more of your buts." Troy would've fought against his father. He was bigger and stronger, after all. But strength meant nothing to the magic his father had.

The door burst open. It was Troy's closest friend, Boston. He hoped he escaped his own father and came here to help, but his indifference to Troy's visible begging made it clear who he was. "Trevor! What's taking you so long? I possessed this body ages ago and my asshole is begging for the taste of cock. Hurry up will you?"

"Shut 'yer yapper and help me pin my boy. He says he's tired of getting possessed. Hahaha!" Trevor laughed.

Richard used Boston’s massive strength to pin Troy on the floor. But he was getting the gist that Troy won't fight back anymore. The boy accepted that his body won't truly be his anymore. Troy could only accept reality as his father pushed his entire body to his own.

•·················•·················•

Join my Discord Server and read 80+ SFW and NSFW shorts and stories! Join now by clicking here!

#Possession #Male Possession #Body Possession #Male Body Possession

[littlest-nightingale]

10th Doctor agere thoughts bc I am not immune to the Doctor, apparently:

The regressor equivalent of a huge dog who doesn't realize he isn't a little lapdog anymore

Seriously he's gonna give his cgs a concussion if he isn't careful

Every one of his companions end up as his caregiver sooner or later

Very quickly switches between perfectly fine and having a panic attack. He's very,,,, fragile, when he's regressed.

He's also incredibly clingy. Please don't leave, please don't leave him, he doesn't want to be alone again =[

He sometimes goes through phases where he convinces himself that he's better off without a cg, because he knows he'll end up alone eventually and figures it's better not to get attached to someone he knows isn't going to be with him forever. Those phases never last more than a week.

He's so much lighter than he should be, or at least he's lighter than he looks like he should be, so it's easy for him to be carried around. Unfortunately he's very. Limbs. He's so lanky that his regressed brain isn't quite sure what to do with his limbs.

Do not let him anywhere near the control panel of the TARDIS. The last thing everyone needs is a toddler aged timelord running around medieval Germany or something. [Because yes, he will try to use the TARDIS while small, if he's bored enough, and yes, he has done it before and it ended very poorly.]

He's fascinated by makeup I think. He's fascinated by a lot of things humans do, but I think he would like makeup. Rose and Martha have both done his makeup on several occasions =D

Hyper! He's got sooooo much energy most of the time and gets very bored in the TARDIS. Goes to the park quite a lot. Martha is working on getting him to not dig holes in the ground. Yes, worms are fun and all, but please don't tear up the grass looking for them, we're on public property.

Has toys but not because he wants to play with them, but because he wants to take them apart.

Doesn't care about the stigma around regression at all. He's an alien with a time travelling police box, why would he? Honestly, his regression is the most normal part about him. So yeah, he's going to go play on that playground even though he's physically a grown man, and he isn't going to give a fuck about the people watching.

He likes to bring stuff to his cg/companion, like how cats bring you dead animals, so his companions end up with a lot of cool sticks and shiny coins and acorns and feathers and whatever else he just happens to find on the street.

I think a dog would be good for him. He needs a friend to help him burn off energy, and also that mental image is adorable, so I'd imagine that he ends up frequenting local shelters a lot, just to keep the dogs company

Forgets to eat until he's actually starving, at which point he becomes really whiny until he gets something in his system

#sfw age regression #agere #fandom agere #doctor who agere #tenth doctor agere

[rae-writes]

Hello I hope both side of your pillow are cold, and your earphones never tangled can I please request a hate/angry sex, make out etc with mephi? Like mc and him keep saying how much they hate and insult each other but can't stop themselves from doing the devil tango >:D I think some hair pulling is lowkey kinky and hot too-

nsfw <3

Imagine hating the stupid, arrogant, and uppity noble that parades around like Diavolo's lapdog, ruining everyone's moods and always getting in the way of others just for a 'scoop'. You hate him, you really really hate him, but there was just something about the almost desperate growl that left him when you irritably yanked his hair in passing.

And Mephisto hates you, he really really hates you- the stupid exchange student that everyone calls an Angel, who he thinks is just an over-glorified waste of time. And yeah, sure, the pain washing over his scalp felt electrifying, and yeah, the growl he let out sounded kind of desperate because he hasn't been touched like that in so long, but...so what? He hates you.

Even when you're lip locked, pushing and shoving at each other in one of the closets of RAD, and even when you bite his bottom lip so sharply it starts to bleed as he finally manages to pin you to the wall. He hates you, which is why he's digging his fangs into your skin, locking his jaw until he's sure it'll leave a horrendous bruise, promptly ignoring the way you dig your nails into him in retaliation.

"I hate you", you snarl, kicking at his knee so he falls to the ground with a groan. "I fucking hate you." your eyes are practically overflowing with negative emotion as you shove him on his back, hands being purposefully too rough with unbuckling his belt and snapping open the button of his slacks (barking out a laugh when it ends up breaking).

"Shut the fuck up." Mephisto's just as rough with slamming you down onto him, not caring that your hands ball up and begin hitting at his chest when he starts a filthy sounding pace as soon as he's sheathed. "I hate you more."

Yeah, he hates you, even when his hips stutter pathetically and he's whining as he paints your insides white, effectively filling you to the brim (after you spitefully took a fistful of purple locks and yanked until his eyes rolled white).

And yeah, you hate him, even when you're finishing your day at RAD with him leaking out of you and especially when you're shoving your fingers in his mouth before leaving, making him choke on your combined tastes with a smirk (definitely not planning on leaving your cum-soiled underwear on his office desk the next time he dares to back you in a corner).

#obey me x reader #obey me smut #obey me mephisto #obey me mephistopheles #mephisto smut #mephisto x reader #mephistopheles x reader #om mephisto #om mephistopheles

[sirazaroff]

It’s me again!

Of the RWBY villains, which one(s) is/are your favorite(s)?

I love when you show up :D

So I’ve been thinking about this for a bit, and this is based off my current knowledge with where I’m at in the series. Honestly, the villains I tend to like are the ones that eventually change their ways, like Hazel and to my surprise Emerald, cause she annoyed me for a bit.

However.

I thought about it some more and I was like. You know. Out of everyone so far. The only guy that’s ever been like a serious threat from start to end is Tyrian. Like he’s just full psychotic and cruel, kills for pleasure. He’s like a rabid lapdog. I see him more a threat than even Cinder.

Pretty scary guy, gotta say.

#fooze #salvasti #rwby #rwby fanart #tyrian callows #rwby tyrian #my man gets straight to the point while having his fun. for a villain that’s pretty scary man #he just wants to hurt people #simple as that #thanks for stopping by again! #someone force me to finish this show so I can be in the loop lol. the way I avoid watching things should be a sport #while researching the campaign posters it was hilarious seeing all of Jacques were spray painted over #L Bozo

[falling-star-cygnus]

saw a comparison between Bennett and Aventurine and how they were both burdened by their luck and felt compelled to write them meeting -> note: im not really that far or that in to Star Rail. So if Aventurine's characterization is off, i do sincerely apologize

takes place after meeting Sparkle :D {and if it's obvious im bullshitting in some places, no it's not <3} pry Lichtenburg Bennett out of my bony dead hands

{An ornate chip sparkles in the dazzling lamplights as it's flipped high in the air}

{It lands in the palm of an irate blond, one that smiles as he strolls along the pathways of the deserted night. The chip repeats it's flight.}

"That crazed Fool..."

{Aventurine's nose scrunches despite his efforts to keep an elated face. It's not like anyone's around to see him, but- still. The first step to living a lie is to fool yourself first. The chip is weighing heavy in his palm, so he flicks it up again.}

{And again. And again. And again. Sparkle's words echo in his head.}

"- are you from Sigonia?" "I say you belong to the space under the manhole cover, not in a dream." "...the lapdogs of the IPC."

{Lapdog.}

{The next few moments feel wrapped in honey, sticky sugar thickening his mind to a snail's crawl. His fingers brush a blackened code on his neck, a sigh breezing out a clenched jaw}

{For the first time, the chip lands wrong in his hand. It's pinched between the junction of his pinkie and palm, rocketed to the side as Aventurine's fist clenches}

"Ack-!"

{...}

{Who was that?}

{Aventurine hadn't made that sound.}

{Slowly, like his head was moved by marionette strings, he turns his gaze to the side. The sight of a boy with ashy blond curls greets him.}

{He's clutching his nose in one hand, the chip Aventurine had accidentally shot at him [seriously- what are the odds?] nestled in the other.}

"Ow... where did that come from? I almost wish it was a rock."

{The older man shakes himself out of his daze, quickly but casually making his way over. This boy was young- or at least looked and sounded young- so... a gentler persona should be the ideal approach}

{Fuck if he knew how to approach kids though.}

"Hey there! So sorry about that, it slipped from my hand!"

{Bright emeralds snap to attention. It actually gives Aventurine pause, how bright they are. Pure. He would almost believe them unburdened if it wasn't for the snarled scar speared through his bicep and Lichtenburg figures peeking out around his neck}

"No, no- it's ok! I probably shouldn't have been walking so close anyway.. It's just- I'm kind of lost?"

{Aventurine blinks.}

{He wasn't lying of course, for once the chip quite literally slipped from his hand. Which- almost never happens, he'll admit. An unlucky incident that... was kind of thrilling. To be unlucky- not to hit a scar riddled kid in the face.}

{But still, was this new blondie really going to take him at face value? Not even a suspicious side eye? Talk about naivete...}

{And- lost? How do you get lost in a dream. That takes some serious skill...}

{Unless he was lying. Penacony was full of those after all.}

"Sir...?" "I was wondering why I hadn't seen someone like you around here before!"

{The sudden switch from quiet introspection to enthusiasm startles the kid back a step. Minor setback, that was fine. He could still salvage this encounter.}

{He offers his hand to innocent emeralds}

"Lost, huh? That's unfortunate, kid. What's your name?" "Oh- I'm Bennett!"

{Bennett fumbles for a second, going to shake Aventurine's hand with the one still holding the poker chip before switching to the one over his nose.}

{Poor kid pulls that one away too when he sees the speckles of blood on it. Shit, did he really hit him that hard? He knew the chip was heavy but he didn't think it was that heavy.}

{There was already a bandage pressed over his nose too...}

{Aventurine shakes his bloodied hand when he notices the boy growing increasingly distressed. They were both wearing gloves anyway, so it's not like it was a major issue.}

"Well, nice to meet you, Bennett. Even if it's under... unlucky circumstances."

{The older man was hardly ever unlucky. There was a reason he was called Aventurine, damnit. He never lost a game of chance. And he never made a losing bet. Something else was afoot here, he was sure of it.}

{The once white bandages over Bennett's nose slowly gets swallowed by red as the kid gives a weak little laugh}

"I'm pretty notorious for unlucky circumstances, actually. No matter where I go, my bad luck always seems to cause problems for other people..."

{...}

{Aeons, he looked so sad. Aventurine's chest actually hurts a little just looking at the boy. After all, he wasn't the one with a bloody nose. Fake as it was in this dream world.}

"Nonsense, friend. You've hardly caused me any problems. If anything, I owe you an apology for nailing you in the nose."

{Unintentionally.}

{The older man wraps an arm around the kid's shoulder's to steer him towards one of the many shops in Dreamville. They didn't actually have any vendors in them at this time, but they had to at least have one bandage somewhere. Right?}

{Although with Bennett's luck, maybe not.}

"Let's get you a new bandage, yeah?" "Oh-! I have one right here!"

{And lo and behold, he produces a near identical bandage from one of the pouches hanging from his belt. The only difference was the rounded corners.}

{Aventurine plucks the bandage from between Bennett's fingers to apply before the kid can insist on doing it himself}

"You must get hurt a lot to just have this on you, huh?" "Ah, heh. I guess? But that just comes with the territory of being an adventurer! And- with being unlucky too..."

{An adventurer, huh? That explained the scars, at least a little}

{He slowly peels the ruined bandage off Bennett's nose and flicks it off to the side. To his surprise, it doesn't cleanly make it into a trash can. No, the wadded up thing bounces off the side and, for a second, Aventurine resigns himself to having to walk over and pick it up}

{But it does go in- having bounced straight up instead of back at the blond duo- so he won't actually have to pause in treating his new friend's injury. That feeling of anticipation that fluttered in his throat though... was that how normal people felt? Unsure that something would go there way but hoping it would?}

"Woah... that was so cool!" "...It was, wasn't it?"

{For once, Aventurine felt genuine. Like he earned this bout of boasting. He felt... normal around this kid. ...Huh.}

{The older man smooths the new bandage over Bennett's nose, careful with the pressure he applies. The waxy paper slips between his fingers before he can throw the backside away}

{The boy catches it, innocent emeralds widening when it lands secure in atop the poker chip still in his palm}

"Maybe our lucks are rubbing off on each other, Benny." "Ah-! No, I'm sor-"

{Aventurine ruffles Bennett's hair before he can finish}

"Don't apologize, it's a good thing. I happen to have spectacular luck, I'll have you know. It really takes the fun out of winning." "It does?" "Completely."

{Bennett looks thoughtful at that, glancing down at chip in his glove. Innocent emeralds widen again as he shakes the backside of the bandage into his other glove to hold the disc out to Aventurine}

"I never gave you your chip back!"

{The older man reaches for it, but- he doesn't know if he'll ever see this kid again. Hm...}

{He plucks the waxy film out of his other hand, completely ignoring the chip}

"Please, I have hundreds of those. Keep it."

{Bennett sputters, but Aventurine can't see him as he walks to throw the film away}

"I can't take this-! It looks expensive!"

{It certainly can be exchanged for a lot of credits.}

"Think of it as... a memento of our friendship." "But- I didn't give you anything."

{The older man laughs, startling even himself.}

"Give me something next time we meet then, Bennett."

{It isn't until Aventurine is almost out of sight that he realizes he never gave the kid his name.}

{Well. There was always next time.}

#in my flop era #you cannot convince me that Aventurine's bedazzled poker chip is not heavier then a rock. #you just can't #genshin impact #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr aventurine #genshin impact bennett #hsr fanfic #genshin fanfic #aventurine #bennett #genshin crossover #star rail crossover #hoyoverse #mihoyo #honkai #star rail

[yandere-sins]

Guard #100

a/n: Thanks for requesting! I made the reader a bit more flexible so they are a smuggling thief! Enjoy :D

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland     Pairings: Yandere!Guard!Vil Schoenheit x GN!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Long Post, Violence (Blood mention, Bruising, Fighting, Implied mistreatment/murder, Reader is violent towards another prisoner, Forced Violence, Threats, Revenge, Whipping), Sexual Content (Implied ONS, Dub-Con, Flirting, Reader being sexually active, Reader seducing others for favors or convenience, Reader being called ‘pet’, Biting), Vil being vain, Reader is a bit too trusting, Deals being made, Mention of various crimes

[Prison Project Introduction & How to request | Pinterest Moodboard]

Hearing your own head crack as you were slammed face-first into the cell bars must have been one of the worst experiences you ever had.

Even back when you associated yourself with the hot and steamy nights following the seduction of lonely and bored-out-of-their-minds millionaires, the loud pounding of your heart every time you made off with their overprized possessions hidden under your car seat, and the taste of champagne after selling said possessions, your mind couldn't understand the pounding in your head, together with the blood trickling down the side of your face. You were a criminal, but not that kind of criminal.

Groaning, you staggered, only for your arm to be grabbed and twisted until you turned around, the back of your head now crashing into the bars. With the forearm of your roommate pressing into your throat, you were gurgling at best, silent at worst as you wanted to scream for help. But even your fingernails ripping off your attacker's skin did nothing to convince him to stop.

Everything hurt, yet the adrenaline pumping through you kept your body fighting, even when the air got thinner and thinner. You were a fucking smuggler. A pretty low job on the ladder of thievery. No one ever prepared you to face off against a hulk-lookalike with clear tendencies for murder.

Nearing the end of your consciousness, you remembered the guard's words, almost feeling bad for the officer. As it seemed like, you wouldn't be able to stay alive long enough to ask for a room change, and who knows what this psycho would do with you when stabbing his roommates seemed to have been his favorite pastime as of late.

Letting out one last, pitiful gasp, you realized you could no longer get any air inside of you (or outside, for that matter), your vision blacking out more often than you liked. Squeezing your eyes shut, you didn't want to waste more oxygen that you didn't have, focusing on that bastard's face as the last thing you saw, when the pressure suddenly faltered.

"Let them go," an angelic voice spoke, calm but assertive, a beautiful melody in your last moments. The only thing that reminded you that you were still alive and not, in fact, in heaven was the jarring sound of metal scraping against metal that followed the voice.

You forced your eyes wide open, peering to your right where the unmistakable roundness of a gun barrel poked through the bars. It wasn't pointed at you, and yet you immediately knew what it was. Not a baton, a gun. You had to smuggle enough of those, too, to even recognize its model, unmistakenly a weapon used by law enforcement.

However, your eyes were peeled off the gun the second your attacker finally let you go. "Damn, no need to get all threatening, Schoenheit," your cellmate tried to calm the situation, raising his hands innocently and stepping two steps back. Your body collapsed to the ground in a coughing fit, and you could barely hear the words spoken over your own sounds as you tried to regain control over yourself.

"You can call your lapdog back now. I already let go, as you said."

"To the wall with you, Monsieur," another voice instructed, having a smile vibrate in their words as if they were enjoying this.

Your cellmate grumbled some more but retreated to the back of the cell, standing next to the wall as the door to your right was opened in one smooth movement, the sound of heeled shoes clicking through the room. "Are you okay?" someone suddenly spoke from right beside you. You finally lifted your head again, squinting your eyes to focus them on the face before you.

You could easily identify the guy as a guard with his pristine uniform. However, looking him up and down, he seemed strangely... young? Delicate? You found that he had too much of a pretty face to be a guard for this prison. Everything here was so monotonous, ugly, and dirty that it didn't fit him. But you had to admit, it felt good to see some concern for yourself in someone's eyes for once, not just disdain or judgment.

"I..." you croaked, realizing every word you spoke hurt like you were still in a chokehold. You could feel yourself grimace before you reached up, touching your neck carefully and flinching as even the brush of your own fingers hurt. In fact, everything hurt. From your head to your lungs, everything burned, and you felt dizzy with pain, unable to hide it anymore.

"Vil, I think they got pretty messed up," the guard called out, twisting his body around. You followed the direction with your eyes, seeing two more guards in your cell, looking mightily imposing and tall from your position on the ground.

One of them was still holding the gun up to your cellmate, keeping the guy in check, for which you were thankful. He deserved punishment for just attacking you without reason (other than you entering this cell because you had to). However, the other one, standing like a perfect pillar of justice next to the one with the gun, held a riding crop behind his back, only ever smacking the weapon into his own palm while reprimanding the prisoner verbally.

He, slowly, elegantly, with pride and confidence dripping from him like a waterfall, made a half-turn, fixing his gaze on the guard next to you, then on you. Immediately, a shudder of goosebumps ran down your body, intensifying your aching even though the pain was temporarily forgotten as you were captured by his eyes, his gaze strict but only adding to his natural beauty.

All of them were astonishingly beautiful, you realized, glancing at the third guard with the gun to confirm your suspicion. What kind of prison was this?

"Hm," the one with the riding crop hummed. In less than two confident strides, he was standing right before you, the cold end of his crop driving over your throat and lodging beneath your jaw. "That's most certainly going to bruise," he noted, seeing the discoloration left by the arm and feeling you shudder as the pain prickled every spot of your skin that the whip touched. He kept pushing the crop deeper into the underside of your jaw, forcing you to follow and move your head the way the crop directed, left, right, and left again.

"It's a pity, really," he sighed, "Your face is so pretty. Help them up, Epel, will you? They should get treatment for their head."

"Yes, Sir!"

A little confused as a pounding headache made it hard to follow the conversation, the younger guard got to his feet, grabbed you under your arms, and, with a surprising effortless pull, brought you to your feet. Hooking your arm over his shoulders, he led you outside, and you glanced back despite the restraint from the wounds on your neck.

Vil watched you two intently for just a moment more, his eyes drilling into you and making you gulp as uneasiness joined in with the feelings running amok inside of you. His gaze was so invading and didn't help you feel better at all. Yet, somehow, it was familiar. Vil made a sudden, sharp turn and stepped back into the dark cell, out of sight before you could question it more. Next you knew, Epel somehow got you out of the ward with the sounds of lashes and screams following your every dragging step, but you felt no empathy whatsoever, especially not when Epel and a nurse settled you into a warm and comfy bed, and you finally got to breathe out as all the tension fell off.

«──────── 🗡♡ ︎𓍝 ────────»

Either you fell asleep right then and there, or you lost conscience after all, but after what felt like a very long nap, you squeezed your eyelids closed tightly before slowly forcing them open. The room light was dimmed, and it was dark outside, almost making you believe you weren't in prison but back in some shitty basement of a restaurant, about to hand over your delivery of stolen goods to some wannabe gangster that hired you.

A loud groan ripped from your mouth as wakefulness brought back all the harm done to your body. However, a pounding head and the sudden fear of swallowing and aggravating your throat weren't the only things with you in the room. As you lifted your hand to touch the spot where your forehead and the cell bars collided, you realized you were handcuffed to the bedframe, unable to lift as high as your own head. And when you finally moved again, so did someone else in the room, alerting you with the rustling of clothes.

"Bonsoir!" a loud, enthusiastic voice greeted you before a familiar but not really familiar face shoved itself into your vision, making you flinch and jerk in your bed from the surprise. "We thought we lost you there for a second with you suddenly going limp on us! Let me tell the others real quick!"

With a bounce in his step, you warily watched the guard step away from you, still feeling the shock in your bones as you tensed. He stopped halfway around your bed, turning just as sharply as the other guard, Vil, had before. However, there was something so throat-cutting about his movements, not as elegant as Vil's but, rather, deadly.

"The nurse said to not move your head so much as to not agitate the wounds, d'accord? Vil wants you to get better quickly, so please do your best to stay where you are even when no one is watching."

He gave you a wayward smile that could have honestly meant anything. A threat or a well-meant request, either was possible but not both. You slumped back into the pillow as the strange guard closed the door behind him, and sighed deeply.

What a mess this was.

A mess you knew you couldn't get out of.

If they'd sent you back to that cell, the same shit would happen. Yet, you doubted they cared. The guards patrolling along your cell when you were attacked had been a rare stroke of luck for you. But luck had the tendency to run out eventually. Yet, at the same time, you didn't trust the guards to assign you to another cell instead.

Pulling on the handcuff on your right arm, you wondered if breaking your thumb or dislocating your shoulder would be possible and give you some more days in the infirmary for observation. You had no idea how bad this would hurt even just to try, but you saw it in movies before, so even if they were unrealistic, it probably wasn't impossible.

Those damn movies. They had been your ruin.

"It's just a bag. You just have to hand it to the guy waiting for you across the street. It's totally harmless, and it's fun. Just like in the movies."

It was just a bag that your 'friend' wanted you to deliver at first. Probably drugs or stolen goods, but you did it. You liked them, they were fun to hang around, and you didn't want them to think you were too scared to give someone a bag. And it was kind of fun, you had to admit. Especially the alcohol you were given afterwards as a reward and the parties.

But one bag turned into one painting. A painting into jewelry boxes. Boxes into packs of drugs. There was thrill and excitement. You got rich, buying new equipment, new cars, and jetting around the world until you had to acquire the things your 'friend' wanted to sell. You drank way too much alcohol all the time, filling the loneliness as you realized none of those friends you made actually wanted to hang out with you. You let too many people muddle your brain and touch you even when you didn't want to but had to. You were trying to forget by drowning your worries because you were too far gone by the time you realized how wrong it all was. All these things made you careless, and carelessness brought you here to prison. To the prison infirmary, to be exact.

But there was no use in pondering over this now. Not when the door suddenly opened, and you jerked upright again, facing a new challenge with piercing, lavender eyes focused on you. Stepping inside were the same three guards you had met in your cell before, but just as they built a wall around your bed, a—comparably tiny—nurse squeezed through them, letting out a huff as she rounded the bed to your right side.

"I will check on them first, Officer Schoenheit, and then you may do..." her resolute voice said determinedly, her hand circling as she tried to come up with the last bit of her sentence. "Whatever," she eventually settled on, standing next to you instead.

"You got a nasty laceration on your head, Darling," she sighed, and you felt the twinge as she pulled off the large, white bandaid from your head, now smeared in, what you assumed was, blood and ointment. "And that on your first day."

"Ouch," you hissed as your skin snapped back in place after being freed from the glue of the wound dressing, the tension rising in the room, but the nurse didn't mind.

"Sorry, but this is not supposed to feel good."

Very comforting, you thought, taking a deep breath. There wasn't much you could do as the nurse worked away, cleaning, checking, and bandaging the wound again, so you let your eyes drift. No one was saying anything, and their eyes did not indicate what they would say once it was their turn.

Epel watched curiously, his interest fixed on your wound. Especially next to the other two, he looked so small and fragile. But knowing how easily he had lifted you and how he could look at your wound without flinching, he probably wasn't as much of a mismatch for this prison as you thought. There seemed to be something beneath the pretty surface of all three of them, the guard you still didn't know the name of smiling a little too much even though the situation was in no way merry or joyful. He was the only one occasionally scanning through the room rather than staring at you, his movements still so sharp, no flinch of his muscles was wasted.

The last one, Officer Schoenheit, or Vil—how Epel called him—intrigued you the most, however. He certainly didn't look like he belonged in this place, his posture noble and mighty, with the face of an angel and a body to envy. Currently, there was only one wrinkle on his face, a crease between his eyebrows growing deeper every time your eyes met. He was the kind of guy you'd often encounter after sneaking out of some wealthy person's house after you successfully seduced them. Like the son of those people, sneering at you as he returned from a party, not knowing you had his mother's jewels hidden in your pocket. And the worst part was that he seemed so familiar that you might have met him like this before.

No matter how pretty he was, there was a hidden personality under his mask, shown by the coldness in his eyes. He was no different from those rich kids, always letting you know you were below them. But now, you weren't a filthy fling of their parents but a dirty prisoner. It wasn't that big of a difference. And yet... whenever you looked up after flinching as the nurse checked your head, asking what and where and how it hurt before moving on to your throat, you saw the wrinkle disappear for a moment as he lifted his eyebrows while watching curiously. He was studying you, burning every one of your movements into his mind, and judging you for them accordingly.

And yet, in the few moments, his face relaxed, he looked almost concerned.

"There, done," the nurse huffed, giving you a quick, proud lookover.

"Thanks," you mumbled, trying to reach up once again to touch your wound to check it, but the second the chain on the handcuffs fastened, everyone in the room grew alert. You sighed, and the nurse tried to laugh it off. "You're a nice one, aren't you?"

Well, you certainly weren't a sicko who attacked others, though, by definition, and your guilty verdict, you weren't 'nice' either.

"All yours, Schoenheit," the nurse declared, waving at you before leaving, and the other heads turned to the officer, whose eyes never left you as he nodded briefly, dismissing the lower guards. "You may go now."

Epel and the third guard didn't hesitate before trotting out, the latter grinning at you just before disappearing out of the door and closing it behind them so that only you two remained. The awkward silence was palpable, and you wondered if pulling at your handcuffs again would break it when Vil caught your attention.

"I apologize for the inconvenience you experienced on your first day."

That... took you aback. Glancing up at him in surprise, you certainly didn't expect him to apologize. However, his face remained unreadable, serious, yet indifferent enough to not force a grimace on it. Nor a smile, but that might have been too much to expect.

"It's fine," you waved off with your free hand, looking back down into your lap, thinking this was the most this conversation would go.

However, instead of leaving, you felt the indent on the mattress as he sat down with a perfectly straight back, not even asking if you were okay with this closeness. "We met before, haven't we?"

His question was yet again another sentence you didn't expect. Oh boy, you thought, trying to guess who the poor person had been you robbed and whose son this guard was. "I'm not sure," you mumbled honestly, but trying to stay on his good side, quickly added, "I'd probably remember a pretty face like yours."

Vil huffed, though not in an offended way. He apparently had enough confidence in his looks to take compliments easily. "Thorn's Club. You ushered me away in exchange for sitting with a rich-looking gentleman beyond his prime. You might have forgotten, but only seeing you here in this prison soothes the pain of your dismissal."

"Oh, well." Yeah, you fucked that one up, didn't you?

"I hate to admit it, but that was a first for me," Vil chuckled, making the awkwardness tumble, the sound as lovely as being graced by the first rays of sun on your skin.

"Wish I would have reconsidered," you admitted, though before you could put on a better show to keep the guard's mood high, he suddenly turned to you, hand reaching upwards and snatching your chin. Just like with the whip before, he turned your head side to side, scanning you from forehead to chin as you stammered, "Uh...?"

"You sure are easy to look at," he suddenly said, brows furrowing, which almost looked unnatural on his beautiful face. "It's no wonder I felt so distraught after your dismissal."

"Hey, look, I'm really sorry if I--"

"So, would you like to reduce your sentence?"

Well, that took a turn quickly.

So he wanted to...? What? Fuck? Mess you up? Kill you? Was his pride this bad, rivaled only by the immediate aggression of your roommate? "I'm not sure what you mean?" you mumbled, your jaw still in an iron grip, making it hard to speak with his gloved fingers raking manicured nails over your skin.

"What I mean is..." Vil turned your head over once more, burning you with his gaze before giving one determined nod of satisfaction. "I need a rat. And you need a recommendation. Or do you perhaps prefer getting beaten up by the inmates or worse?"

You wanted to shake your hand, but his grip forced you to speak clearly, something he seemed to approve of. "No. What do you want me to do?"

The corners of his lips jerked, a brilliant smile manifesting on his lips. It was so dazzling you blinked a few times, almost forgetting what you had just asked until his teeth opened to let his response escape from his exquisite lips.

"Finally."

«──────── 🗡♡ ︎𓍝 ────────»

"You may call it a test of courage. Or proof of loyalty. Or simply, revenge."

Feeling Vil's body right next to you, shoulder to shoulder, you gulped. You had learned another thing about this man, even though you felt like you knew nothing at all. But Vil liked control. He was surprisingly cautious for a man who offered you the position of being a rat for an excellent recommendation to the prison ward, just because your face was pretty and you rejected him before. It all seemed somewhat crazy, but standing in front of the cellmate who had beaten you earlier that day, him crouching on the ground, gagged and restrained with horror tearing through the screams into the mouth gag, was very much real.

"How is giving me your crop to beat that guy going to strengthen our bond?" you huffed, disbelieving of what you were supposed to do.

"You see," Vil mused, rounding behind you, the back of his hand brushing the small of your back so nonchalantly you almost believed it wasn't deliberate. Then, in a rapid motion, he gripped you by the chin again, your whole body tensing in alert as he came so close to your hurt throat. But in comparison to the iron grip from before, he was now holding your head up gently, brushing his thumb along your jawline as he redirected your gaze to the corner of the room.

A blinking red light alerted you to the camera there. You hissed, immediately throwing the riding crop to the floor even though you knew your fingerprints were already on it if they wanted to use it as evidence against you. "Now, now," Vil chided, though his tone remained gentle.

"Pick it up," he ordered, releasing you. There was a moment of hesitation that he—thankfully—didn't comment on, but eventually, you bent down to pick it up, holding it out to him. Enveloping your hand with his, he curled your fingers over the crop again, squeezing them together before releasing them. "Good," he praised, his whole demeanor so calm compared to the tension you felt and the ruckus at your feet.

"We're partners now, but you'll understand it's hard for me to trust anyone just from their words. I need-" Vil glanced up at the camera in the corner, the hints of a grin adorning his face, "-a bit more security than your word, pet."

Turning towards the prisoner before you two, you could watch for the first time how Vil's expression turned from his angelic mask to utter disgust, only reverting back when he looked at you again. Batting his eyelashes, he brought his touch back to your cheek, brushing his fingers along your bone structure in an almost adoringly gentle way.

"Epel is going to secure and delete the record, so what happens here will only be between you and me. You don't have to worry about Rook and Epel. They have their hands full with other things than to bother you. Besides, they already enjoyed training under me. I have no doubts about their loyalty."

"If you say so..." you mumbled, still not entirely convinced. Vil's second hand landed on your back again; he gave you a slight push, barely one step forward towards your former cellmate, who squirmed some more in his underwear, eyes wide open and a glare so deadly it made a cold shudder run down your spine.

"It's my present to you," Vil said, letting you go to round the prisoner before kicking one of his black, polished shoes into the mass of a body on the ground.

"How can I be sure you're not setting me up," you asked, justified as you found.

"It's my crop, and I gave it to you. This guy--" Vil pointed at the prisoner at his feet "--could testify if you name him as a witness. Would that not convince people of my guilt in this matter?"

For the first time, you let the black, faux-leather encased crop smack into the palm of your hand. Not painful enough to hurt you, but it sure as hell left its mark in the form of a burning patch of skin behind. It would surely hurt, but you could get behind this set-up Vil created. "What about him? Won't he tell on us?" you asked, nodding at the prisoner.

"When you're done, solitary confinement." Letting out a small chuckle, Vil looked up at you again, confidence glistening in his eyes. "No one believes people in solitary confinement."

"Huh..." Staring at the prisoner, you felt the weight of your decision in the form of the whip in your hands. It wasn't too late, even with your fingerprints on it, to back out, and to be honest, you weren't the vengeful type. But you'd be lying if the promise of a recommendation of early discharge didn't taste sweet like poison on your mind.

Like a poisoned apple, it was a sweet and crisp offer, dipped into the deadly condition of taking revenge on the man who hurt you and continuing your smuggling legacy, even though it was information on the prisoners this time. Vil must have recognized that this was the thing you were best at when he offered you this chance. But would you be a fool again if you took it? Who knows what kind of hell would expect you if you accepted or refused.

"I'll do it," you finally decided, trying to sound confident even though your voice failed you.

"You made the right choice," Vil solidified your decision, smiling his ominous but beautiful smile again. Rolling the prisoner over with another kick, Vil presented him to you, stepping away and back behind you so you could take charge. "Don't go for the face so we can cover up the marks. But do try to make every hit count," he instructed, his hand driving up your arm and over your shoulder as if he was admiring the strength you were about to unleash. In a sharp turn, Vil came to a stop beside you, your eyes meeting once more. You knew that it was impossible to read his thoughts from his expression, but if the mask he wore spoke even an ounce of truth, then he seemed to enjoy himself. "I like to be entertained, pet. Don't disappoint me."

The last sentence came out as a sharp reminder that this was serious despite the oddity of the situation. It made your stomach churn and mind race as you let your gaze slide from Vil to the prisoner whose cries had turned more desperate than angry. "It's nothing personal," you sighed at him, submitting to the choice you had already made. His body shook as you raised the crop, lurching forward to bring it down.

The violence felt like a trance. You kept snapping the crop over the poor guy's skin, the body beneath you blistering and ripping until drops of blood splattered your hands and face. You did as instructed, never aiming for the prisoner's face, but you also left out the arms and wherever you thought it could be seen under the overalls all prisoners wore. You had no idea how long you did it, perhaps a few minutes, or maybe longer than that, but the only person able to snap you out of it was Vil.

His body embraced you from behind, one hand snaked around your face, covering your eyes, the other driving down your left arm until it found hold around your wrist, making you halt. You were breathing heavily as he pulled you back, purring, "Good job," into your ear, his voice causing serotonin to erupt from your brain the same way chocolate did when it melted on your tongue. Silken and rapturing and so, so rewarding when he praised you.

Even when you knew it was wrong. Knew he was using you. It felt like getting some of your freedom back with the feelings of happiness his praise and gentleness caused inside you. Perhaps this wouldn't be as bad as the smuggling for your 'friend' was. Maybe you'd actually make a difference this time.

"I like how enthusiastic you are about this. It makes me want to sweeten the deal for you even more."

When Vil pulled his hand from your eyes, you were already looking at him, having followed the direction of his voice all this time. He smiled, finding your eyes on him, pulling forth a soft, white handkerchief to wipe your face with before using it to pry the bloody whip from your hands. "How does a private room for my favorite little prisoner sound?"

"That's the least you can do," you huffed, finally regaining control over your body again and slowly pulling your gaze from him to look at the prisoners. The whipping had caused a lot of lacerations and bruises on him, some parts already growing blue. But before you could get a good look at yourself, Vil's fingers guided your chin back into his direction, your eyes wandering back to him.

"I always keep my promises, [Name]. Give me what I want, and you'll get whatever you desire."

"Man, you make this deal sound so cheesy," you chuckled, and Vil's lips curled back into a smile.

"I suppose you won't mind that."

"No, not really."

Maybe it was the flirtatious mood between you two, or you felt like sealing the deal. But you pushed yourself upwards, catching Vil by surprise as you pressed your lips to his. Taking the initiative had always been an excellent way to solidify your intentions with other clients, and you hoped it wouldn't be any different this time. Vil wanted to control your actions at this prison for his gain, and you wanted all the sweet deals he could give you, no matter the cost. In your mind, it made sense to show yourself submitting to him like this, knowing there would be a huge reward for you at the end.

However, at first, Vil jolted away, and when you opened your eyes, you saw a scornful image replacing his delicate features. His hand reached up, gripping you around the throat and reminding you of your place as you struggled against the force of his hand and the pain it caused. It hurt double as much after already going through this kind of struggle before. Vil's fingers were like snakes wrapping around your neck instead of just brute force, sometimes tightening, sometimes getting soft again.

"Don't get cocky now," he hissed, and you nodded, realizing you might have misjudged his affection as merely the way he acted and not something you could build on, like with the other people you seduced to rob them of what you needed.

But then, his lips crashed back into yours, Vil releasing you from his iron grip to press your head upwards and towards him. He wasted no time prying your lips open and taking the chance to play with your tongue before he bit down, spreading the iron-y taste of blood all over it. And yet, when you returned the kiss, he let out a soft moan, devouring your lips as if they were the sweetest fruit on this earth.

"You should never forget who's in charge here," he reminded you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he forcefully pulled away. However, you could see the stain your blood left on him, unable to help yourself from grinning. Red like lipstick, a deal made in blood. Reaching up, you swiped your thumb over your own lip, where he bit you, before bringing it up to your tongue and licking the blood off provocatively. Vil's eyes darkened as he watched you with intense fixation, forcing out a shuddering sigh.

"My pet likes to play dangerous games, I see."

"That would make two of us," you countered, and he tsked at your comment, rolling his eyes.

"You have no idea of what I'm capable of," Vil mumbled, stepping up to you and gripping your chin, his touch much softer again as the hints of concern flitted over his features. "Get that checked out. I'd hate to be the reason your adorable face is ruined."

"I prefer marked, but I will, Sir."

That was enough to force a mix of a moan and chuckle from him before Vil cleared his throat. "I chose the most imperfect, perfect person for this job, it seems. Try not to get too cozy with my patience."

With this, he let go, marching back to the door you two had entered from and leaving you standing here with the gurgling prisoner. "Rook," he called, and the door swung open, Vil shooting you one last, indecipherable gaze. "Take care of the rest."

"Yes, Vil!" Enthusiastically, Rook jumped into the room just after Vil left, his gaze getting stuck on you, standing there alone and forgotten next to the mess you caused. "Mon dieu," Rook chuckled, hiding his face behind his hand for a second, making it hard to guess if he was smiling or appalled by the sight before him. His eyes were so much more void of emotions than even Vil's, and though he was just as prim and proper as the other two, his was more of a natural, dangerous beauty.

"I thought I saw wrong."

Walking up to you, Rook leaned down, reaching for your hand before bringing it up to his face, placing a reverent kiss on the back. If he saw the blood splatters, he didn't mind, his deadly gaze only ever locked on you.

"But I can see now why Vil would be blushing. You are so... magnifique."

Letting go, Rook walked up to the prisoner on the floor, heaving the groaning body over his shoulders like a hunter would carry a deer. "Please wait until I get back and bring you to your room," he instructed, passing by you. However, he turned to you just before leaving, putting on his brightest smile.

"Oh, and welcome to the crew!"

You caught the short glance he threw into the corner of the room, though as you followed it, you noticed the light on the camera had turned off. Rook was gone without you even waiting for you to say something back, and you were left behind once again. Alone and wondering if you had made the right choice. Still feeling Vil's lips on yours through the throbbing of the bite wound, you could only speculate if you made the right decision after all. Would Vil be the prince awakening you from your death sleep with his kiss?

Or would he leave you hanging in the casket when you needed him the most?

Tag List: [How to get added]

@just-simping-over-genshin​​ | @whatthefuckbabysalad

#vil schoenheit #vil twst #yandere vil #Twisted Wonderland #TWST #TWST Wonderland #Disney TWST #yandere twst #yandere!twst #yandere!vil #prison project #disney twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere!twisted wonderland #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

[luxxtuxx]

Hobie SFW Alphabet

This is going to be based on the version of hobie I use in my stories

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) In public: He throws his arm over you, grabs your hand, or just sits close enough that your legs touch In Private: The man becomes a lapdog, unless you are working or showering, he is attached to your hip. You have multiple videos of him sleepy, being grumpy because you need to get up from the couch to go pee

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) He was just drawn to you, you became friends quickly and there was a lot of dancing around feelings

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) This man has two cuddle settings and unless you ask for otherwise that's it. He will either lay down on top of you and snuggle his head into your stomach and stay there or he will pick you up and hold you to his chest

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) He doesn't want to settle down because that's too much consistency, he is decent at cooking, but cleaning he is perfection due to his height it helps gets a bunch of dust on top of shelves

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) He would try to explain and be nice and peaceful with it

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) He doesn't want to be married, but sometimes he likes to imagine how pretty you'd be in a dress like that

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) Physically sometimes he forgets just how strong he is and when you guys rough house, he plays a little too rough. Emotionally he is great

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) He loves hugs, again when home he is a cat. but around people, he hugs you sparingly. He doesn't want people to think he is going soft

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) When he asked you out for the first time it was one of things out of his mouth.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) This dude gets jealous, and fast. Especially when guys he doesn't are touching on you. He once got jealous because Miguel handed you some candy for your birthday. He bites his tongue because he doesn't want to upset you though

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?) Hobie is a kissing addict when you are not around people, every two seconds there is a kiss somewhere. He loves to be kissed anywhere, but his lips, or the palms of his hands. He'll kiss you anywhere, but often it's the top of your head, your knuckles, or your stomach

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) He is great with children, he isn't sure how but mayday is in love with having playdates with you and 'UNCLE PUNK' (he may have cried the first time he heard that)

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) He won't let you leave bed unless you gotta go pee. His arms hold you tight and doesn't like getting up.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) He does face care with you and always makes sure you are comfy.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) If you weren't a spider person, once you two were serious, he would lay everything out on the table. He didn't want you to be hurt due to him not telling you

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) Other people: He gets easy fast but normally can hide it You: He can't get angry at you if he comes home frustrated he always makes sure he calms down before talking to you so he doesn't accidentally snap at you

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) You are this man's whole world, He remembers almost everything, now some things will slip away but he remembers the important shit, like birthday, Starbucks order, fav animal, and stuff like that

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?) Definitely the first time you slept over, Seeing you cuddled into his bed, with his hoodie covering you

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) Oh Hell, he is protective, like super protective. When you are out on dates and you look super cute, he looks like the world's scariest human watchdog

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) 1000% He once accidentally snapped at pavi because pavi told him to relax and that you would love the flowers even if they were the wrong color

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?) he forgets to do the chores you spilt like the dishes sometimes. he doesn't mean to he swears

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) He does not care, he will only try and be dressed up when you ask, like meeting your parents

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?) If he is on a mission without you, he will speedrun the mission, because he just feels lonely without his angel of music around

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.) He calls you any nickname in his head and you swear he has never called you something two times in a row.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?) He hates when you think lowly of yourself or when people disrespect you

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?) He can't sleep in quiet, so if you listen to music to sleep he is happy if you can't sleep with the noise he uses his earbuds

#atsv hobie #hobie brown #hobie spiderverse #hobie headcanons #hobie x y/n #spider man: across the spider verse #spider punk #spiderpunk #fluff #hobie brown x you #hobie fluff #hobie x you #hobie x reader #hobie my beloved #atsv #across the spiderverse

[fbfh]

Tate Langdon dating hcs

wc: 1.4k

warnings/content: discussions of yandere behavior and how tate differs from that, general obsessive/codependant tendancies bc it's tate, optional creative arts!reader

pairing: Tate x gn reader (no pronouns/gendered descriptions)

a/n: tate is a babyboy who needs to be kissed on his forehead right fucking now yes I know what he did I'm not taking criticism on this. also I just posted this by accident and had to completely delete and reformat it so if you saw that no you didn't

EDIT: I finished coven and realized I used a gif of Kyle and Zoe instead of Tate and Violet which has now been fixed. I cannot keep these blonde boys straight.

Okay so I don’t even want call this a yandere fic bc this is just about Tate in the source material so I don’t want to label him a full out yandere

But like

He kind of is

The other reason I don’t necessarily want to give him the yandere label is bc most of the time (from what I’ve read at least) yanderes usually don’t have their darling’s best interest at heart/can be okay with them being hurt or in danger

That shit would NEVER fly with Tate

I wrote a whole drabble about this but I know a lot of people have said Tate would kill you so you can be in the house with him forever

Yandere!Tate, yes

Regular Tate?? Hell no!!

There’s an element of selflessness that Tate possesses that gives him an important distinction from the yandere archetype

Because a lot of times yanderes want their darlings all for themselves

They want to be their darling’s only one, which can manifest in very selfish motivations

But Tate?????

Tate cares about your feelings more than his

And he’s proved this by acting selflessly for your benefit over and over 

Even when there is literally zero chance for him to get anything out of it

He doesn’t care

Because his motivations regarding you are genuinely selfless 

You are his priority, point blank period

Because Tate is…. Very dedicated

The thing with him is that when he latches onto you 

He’s on for eternity

Not just for life bc he’s kind of an immortal ghost

He’ll be with you until you decide you don’t want him there anymore

And even then

He’s still going to love you just as much as he does now forever

Like he’s really not one to halfass anything

Especially how he feels about someone

Because he usually either doesn’t give a fuck about them or cares too much

He cares too much about pleasing all the women in the house

He cares too much about trying to make Nora happy, gain her approval and praise

And then there’s you

He either doesn’t give a fuck about someone, cares too much, or in your case, might end up deeply obsessed with and dogmatically devoted to you

Which he is

Honestly all it took was a few days before his heart was in your hands

You probably didn’t even realize for a while just how into you he is

But by the time he’s openly confessing his love for you

By the time he’s telling you that he would never let anyone or anything hurt you

That he cares about your feelings more than his

That he’s never felt this way about someone before

You have a pretty good idea of where he’s at

He doesn’t hide his feelings from you after that, he doesn’t think he could if he tried

Tate is hopelessly devoted to you

There’s no other way to describe it

We know he’s clingy

We know he’s affectionate

We know he’s a switchy bottom with raging mommy issues

We’ve established that

And you could tell all of that since you met him

But when he really lays his heart at your feet

When he really finds himself fully committed to you

That’s when all that in theory becomes in practice

When days go by and he’s glued to your side the whole time

Even just lingering nearby while you’re brushing your teeth or making food 

That’s when you realize that he really really just likes being your lapdog 

He loves it

He loves when you give him casual affection, he loves when you rest your hand on his back or brush hair out of his eyes

And he fucking loves when you use him as a reward or break from other tasks you have to do

Every time your little study timer goes off, you drop what you’re doing and run right over to pull him in for a kiss

He’s already thrown his arms around you

You just make out for like ten minutes until you have to start studying again

If it’s not for something super important he absolutely will try to distract you by kissing your neck and squeezing your waist

If it is super important or a subject you struggle in, he’ll help you study

He doesn’t want to stop kissing you, but he will

Because he knows how important this is to you

So he’ll pull away and start reading you flashcards 

And like

He’ll be happy to do it

He won’t complain or be upset

He won’t have anything else he’d rather be doing

Tate Langdon took “if he wanted to he would” and fucking ran with it

Oh my god

And god help you if you do anything artistic or creative

Because as soon as he finds out that you’re an artist or a writer or an actor or musician or singer or dancer or sewist

Or literally anything else

It will once again alter his brain chemistry

The second you start showing him your art or writing or songs

It fucking changes him

Like

The weight and significance of the renaissance and every major artistic movement and cultural moment ever influenced by the arts is now residing in you

That’s how he feels

He takes one look at what you do and he gets it

He never really cared until now

But jesus fucking christ everything you do needs to be in a museum

Sometimes you see him just staring at your art or rereading your writing and poetry or flipping through your sketchbooks

Watching videos of you in musicals or plays or dance recitals 

Because when he sees the world the way you do

Whatever medium that might be through

Everything makes sense

He understands it, and he feels understood

He feels like you’re talking to him through your art

He feels a sense of peace, tranquility

If you think he couldn’t put you up on an even higher pedestal

Surprise

Not only are you the greatest person in the world

But you’re also an artistic genius 

There’s this deep sense of like

Privilege he feels to see everything you’re creating right now 

Even just your diary entries, the way you shape words, the flow of your stream of consciousness is so beautiful

He watches you so much more closely now, seeing the way you dance in your everyday movements

The way you channel and portray characters so flawlessly when you’re telling him about your day and the drama that happened at school

He could spend days looking through the boxes and albums of photos you’ve taken

He probably has

Because there’s no way to be closer to you than taking in these organic, raw forms of passion and self expression

He can’t get enough of it

Tate is dedicated to you

Not only as your boyfriend

But as your number one fan

Even if you’re not as creative

He still believes you have the best taste of anyone he’s ever met hands down

The books you like, the shows and movies you watch together

Even your music taste

Tate hasn’t liked a single song that’s been released after 1994

Until you handed him a pair of headphones and said you think he’ll like this

You sat him down and listened to the entirety of the black parade by my chemical romance

The whole album

And it changed his whole worldview 

Yet again, one move and you’ve altered his brain chemistry 

Even with other stuff he wouldn’t normally like

He likes it because you like it

He’ll watch Love Island and 90 Day Fiance with you for hours and love every minute of it

He loves feeling close to you, he loves that you want to share things you enjoy with him

He especially loves after a while when you’re starting to get kind of sleepy 

Because you look so soft and adorable like that

But also because he knows he can put his head in your lap and you’ll play with  his hair

You’ll run your fingers through his soft hair and scratch his back

And he feels so close to you

Which is all he ever wants

It’s always going to be you you you

And right now, he has exactly what he wants

#tate langdon #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon headcanons #ahs #ahs x reader #ahs headcanons #been listening to judas by lady gaga on repeat bc of him #i think he'd like that #hes totally the type to get really happy when you wear his shirts or if someone notices a hickey or if he gets a song stuck in your head #probably something by nirvana #but yeah general leaving his mark on you stuff???? #makes him go awooga awooga

[probablyhuntersmom]

I know this is a stupid question but what hairstyle does Hunter look the best with? 🙄😋

Def not a stupid question at all!

I think it's quite subjective and it depends on the person, because his different hairstyles could mean different things to each individual.

It might be a hot take but I personally like the mullet the most (sorry, haircut-that-goes-with-the-famous-watermelon-sweatpants T_T). But it overtakes the others only by a little bit. I guess it's coz each style was so wonderfully effective for his design changes, wordlessly telling us what could be going on in that mind and heart of his. Visually he's just so well-designed and engaging.

After thinking about it for days, I don't dislike any of the styles at all. His supposedly professional-looking default haircut that Belos would've wanted to maintain...his exploration of just letting it grow out before he had the panic attack in front of the mirror...but also the short one and mullet...I like them for different reasons.

Even with Belos making his hair lengthen while possessing him, to better resemble Caleb...the wild look of the mullet goes damn well with the wolf T-shirt design, in my opinion. I think I view it this way because of @idlescree's vid essay here (link) (please watch all of their amazing Owl House vid essays :D), which remarks that the wolf symbolism on his new T-shirt...is related to wild-ness, and him being able to bite the hand that feeds instead of remaining an obedient lapdog.

Many of us wondered why he kept the long hairstyle by the time we got to the epilogue, growing it out again (after he got Willow to cut it again, as stated by Dana in her last Twitch stream not too long ago). He grew it out again except it was more wispy and carefree-looking, and: he didn't cut the silly anime hair noodle this time.

My rationalization for him choosing to have this kind of hair again is that he made a personal choice, on his own terms, to keep the memory of Caleb and the other lost grimwalkers alive. Honouring the lives they lived, however brief.

#loz's ask box #a mini Hunter meta #toh hunter #the owl house

[daedelweiss]

to that one anon complaining that i make turtle fanart now... thanks for giving me more motivation to bombard you with more turtle art. yeah, i should do that :D

also i’m not making art for you, you selfish prick. either pay me (comms are closed so oof lmao) or leave me to make art of what i want. i am not your artist lapdog that will make art just to satisfy you. back to the prison dimension you go~

#dae rambles #cope harder lmao #thanks for reminding me how toxic undertale fans can get #i still love undertale and deltarune but i never made art for you ✌ #so either eat turtle fanart or unfollow and/or block me you sad man

[honeycollectswhump]

If Miss Mireille goes bankrupt, you can be sure I'll be the one who take Ashtray home with me...

He'll be the reason I stop smoking, I'll pamper him, give him homemade food and treat him like the good boy he is because he deserves it!

if you stop smoking with Ashtray in your house you deserve a medal!! he doesn't intend it but he'd make quitting so much harder :( why isn't there any new cigarette smell when he knows there was before!!! you treat him so well he is desperate to do a good job and might start carrying cigarettes around for quick access.

but he'd love you very much!!! you treat him so well!! and after some time he might even realise that his job isn't to be an Ashtray anymore, but to be a lapdog. and he'd do his very best to fulfill that new role :D

#unfortunately she will never go bankrupt. not in this lifetime at least #her family is filthy rich and she knows at least a dozen equally rich men who would cut their own hand of for hers in marriage #ashtray/skye (oc) #mireille belmont (oc) #anon #asks