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mcytblraufest · 2 years

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MCYTBLR AU FEST - The Gifts by the Numbers

How Many Gifts?

Over the course of the event, we saw gifts delivered from 133 gifters, of which 24 were pinch hits. Some of these gifters gave multiple gifts, because you are all just incredibly dedicated!

What Gifts?

The most commonly given gift was writing, but we also saw a considerable amount of art, and a good amount of other types of gifts.

Writing: 78 gifts

Art: 46 gifts

Web Weave: 12 gifts

Playlist: 8 gifts

Stimboard: 2 gifts

What AUs?

We had a LOT of different AUs. A number of the gifts were tagged with several different tags to properly sum them up, but still— just look at all the AUs!

Fantasy: 32 gifts

Modern: 21 gifts

Paranormal: 13 gifts

Science Fiction: 13 gifts

Crossover: 7 gifts

Magic: 6 gifts

Superheros: 6 gifts

Cyberpunk: 5 gifts

Dungeons & Dragons: 5 gifts

Gods and Goddesses: 5 gifts

High School: 5 gifts

Mob Hybrids: 4 gifts

Royalty: 4 gifts

Coffee shops & Cafes: 3 gifts

Different Ending: 3 gifts

Dimensional Travel: 3 gifts

Fae: 3 gifts

Mermaid: 3 gifts

Soulmates: 3 gifts

Urban Fantasy: 3 gifts

Werewolf: 3 gifts

Assassin: 2 gifts

College/University: 2 gifts

Family Dynamic: 2 gifts

Horror: 2 gifts

LOTR: 2 gifts

Mafia: 2 gifts

Magical Girls: 2 gifts

Mystery: 2 gifts

Phantom of the Opera: 2 gifts

Pirates: 2 gifts

Post-apocalyptic: 2 gifts

Prank War: 2 gift

Sports: 2 gifts

Theatre: 2 gifts

Time Travel: 2 gifts

Vampire: 2 gifts

Villains: 2 gifts

30000 leagues under the sea: 1 gift

Age of Sail: 1 gift

Apocalypse: 1 gift

Age Reversal: 1 gift

ARK: Survival Evolved: 1 gift

Bad Guys Won: 1 gift

The Breakfast Club: 1 gift

Canon Divergence: 1 gift

Circus: 1 gift

Cowboys: 1 gift

Cryptid: 1 gift

Dinosaurs: 1 gift

Dystopian: 1 gift

Fairy Tail: 1 gift

Farm/Ranch: 1 gift

Forest Spirit: 1 gift

Heist: 1 gift

Historical: 1 gift

Idols: 1 gift

Isekai: 1 gift

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell: 1 gift

Mechanic: 1 gift

Minimum Wage: 1 gift

Monsters: 1 gift

Musuem: 1 gift

Over the Garden Wall: 1 gift

The Owl House: 1 gift

Pokemon: 1 gift

Prequel: 1 gift

Roller Blading: 1 gift

Raft: 1 gift

Robots: 1 gift

Road Trip: 1 gift

Room of Swords: 1 gift

Sacrifice: 1 gift

Science: 1 gift

Shapeshifter: 1 gift

Shop: 1 gift

Slime Rancher: 1 gift

Small town: 1 gift

Soul Reapers: 1 gift

Space: 1 gift

Space Opera: 1 gift

Speedrunning: 1 gift

Spies and Secret Agents: 1 gift

StarCraft: 1 gift

Summer Camp: 1 gift

Supernatural: 1 gift

Teacher: 1 gift

Tokyo Ghoul: 1 gift

Twitch Streamers: 1 gift

Vegas: 1 gift

Warlock: 1 gift

Warrior Cats: 1 gift

Winx: 1 gift

Witches: 1 gift

Wings: 1 gift

Zombie: 1 gift

What Servers?

As above, we had several crossovers! DSMP was the most popular server, but 3rd LIfe, Hermitcraft, Origins and Empires all made a good showing, and we had several smaller servers that people still made gifts for.

DSMP: 85 gifts

3L/LL/DL: 23 gifts

Hermitcraft: 21 gifts

Origins: 21 gifts

Empires: 13 gifts

30 Day SMP: 2 gifts

Afterlife: 2 gifts

Mianite: 1 gift

MCSR: 1 gift

SMP Live: 1 gift

Vault Hunters: 1 gift

What Characters?

Who did people choose to put in AUs? Well TommyInnit, Ranboo, Tubbo, and Grian led the leaderboards, but there were a lot of different characters who had the spotlight, even if for a little bit.

TommyInnit: 34 gifts

Ranboo: 31 gifts

Tubbo: 25 gifts

Grian: 24 gifts

Wilbur Soot: 23 gifts

Technoblade: 21 gifts

GoodTimesWithScar: 19 gifts

Philza: 19 gifts

Dream (tagged as Dreamwastaken): 15 gifts

Quackity: 15 gifts

Sapnap: 13 gifts

PearlescentMoon: 12 gifts

Charlie Slimecicle: 10 gifts

GeorgeNotFound: 10 gifts

Jschlatt: 10 gifts

Jimmy Solidarity: 10 gifts

Joel Smallishbeans: 9 gifts

Niki Nihachu: 8 gifts

Mumbo Jumbo: 8 gifts

Karl Jacobs: 7 gifts

Scott Smajor: 7 gifts

Fundy: 6 gifts

GeminiTay: 6 gifts

Rendog: 6 gifts

Awesamdude: 5 gifts

Ethoslab: 5 gifts

ImpulseSV: 5 gifts

LD Shadowlady: 5 gifts

Zombie Cleo: 5 gifts

Captain Sparkelz: 3 gifts

DocM77: 3 gifts

Eret: 3 gifts

fWhip: 3 gifts

Foolish Gamers: 3 gifts

Jack Manifold: 3 gifts

Jellie: 3 gifts

Joe Hills: 3 gifts

Martyn InTheLittleWood: 3 gifts

Purpled: 3 gifts

TangoTek: 3 gifts

Bdoubleo100: 2 gifts

Friend the Sheep: 2 gifts

Iskall: 2 gifts

Ghostbur: 2 gifts

MythicalSausage: 2 gifts

Ponk: 2 gifts

Sneegsnag: 2 gifts

Xornoth: 2 gifts

Zedaph: 2 gifts

Aimsey: 1 gift

Boatem: 1 gift

BadBoyHalo: 1 gift

Captain Puffy: 1 gift

Chat: 1 gift

Couriway: 1 gift

ConnorEatsPants: 1 gift

Dr. Renstein: 1 gift

Evil Xisuma: 1 gift

FalseSymmetry: 1 gift

Feinberg: 1 gift

Granola the Fox: 1 gift

Hannahxxrose: 1 gift

Hbomb94: 1 gift

Joey Graceffa: 1 gift

Katherine Elizabeth: 1 gift

iijerichoii: 1 gift

Ianite: 1 gift

Michael _Beloved: 1 gift

omgitsfirefox: 1 gift

PeteZahHutt: 1 gift

Pixlriffs: 1 gift

Poundcake: 1 gift

Punz: 1 gift

Renbob: 1 gift

Ranboo’s Mother: 1 gift

Sam Nook: 1 gift

Skizzleman: 1 gift

SynHD: 1 gift

StressMonster101: 1 gift

The Red King: 1 gift

TinaKitten: 1 gift

VintageBeef: 1 gift

Yogurt the Fox: 1 gift

Xisumavoid: 1 gift

Check out the blog for more of the art and playlists, and you can check out the Ao3 collection for the fics! (73 submitted fics on the Archive, of which four broke 20k, and one was a twine game!) Thank you all for participating, this was tons of fun.

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anamelesstraveler · 1 month

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Soap blinks awake, only to find the tall figure of Ghost is standing beside the bed. It should be unnerving, to look up and see the white skull staring back down at him. But Soap is never afraid.

“Hey, Ghost,” he greets sluggishly. “Y’okay?”

He’s come to ask the same thing every night he finds Ghost in his room. Because like a child after a nightmare, there’s just something… small about the way Ghost stands near him. Which is absolute insanity, because the apparition would tower head and shoulders over Soap any day. There just seems to be something about Ghost that shrinks in on itself those nights, standing silent and still at his bedside. And looking at him like this, somewhere in his sleep-addled mind, Soap’s hands itch to reach out. He finds himself staring at Ghost’s hands, nearly invisible from the black mass of him.

“Y’keep comin’ back,” he whispers. “So you do like me, huh? ‘M not so bad.”

The shape of Ghost shudders - a laugh?

“...’hnny–” Ghost’s voice dips in and out of focus, half a word coherent and then the next hopelessly smothered into whispers. But for the first time, Soap watches as Ghost seems to stoop even further at the failure, a real, heartbreakingly human frustration etched in every part of him. His massive form shifts, a hand separating from the void of his body. Does Ghost want to reach out just as badly as he does?

Is he lonely like this? Soap wonders. Trapped in this existence for who knows how long?

-Ch3, Silence Lay Steadily

So excited to share this commission that @bluegiragi did for me!! Gira, I can't thank you enough for taking this on ❤

#GhostSoap #Ghoap #cod mw2 #bluegiragi #Simon Ghost Riley #John Soap MacTavish #my writing #gift art

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ruhlare · 6 months

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it's so attractive when you can be weak and vulnerable with someone without being afraid of getting hurt

#the safety they give you is a precious gift #my writing #letters

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bouncinghedgehoghasattitude · 2 months

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#the gift of yourself #quotes #quoteoftheday #quotations #motivation #inspiring quotes #life quotes #literature #writing #love #love quotes

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canisalbus · 1 month

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Yeah sorry I drew this.

Hope you feel better soon ♡

#Aaaaaaaa #he looks like some sort of gangly baby sheep #does his ma not feed him #instantly wormified the man by putting a tube scarf over his ears #the pathetic little tail is what gets me #it's character accurate like his tail isn't supposed to be something to write home about but here it's just extra meager #big wet eyes #sock creature #leggy varmint #thank you this in fact made me feel better #gift art #arttsuka #own characters #Machete #personally I might've switched the onesie color to his usual orangish scarlet but hot pink is a bold choice too #he looks like a Barbie pet dog minus all the glamour

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creativepromptsforwriting · 2 months

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Love Languages

Receiving Gifts

Receiving thoughtful gifts from their loved ones to show they love and think of them. These ideas are about what a person with this love language would love to receive.

bringing home flowers without a reason

grabbing their favourite dessert from a far away bakery

planning and surprising them with a vacation to a place they always wanted to go to

bringing home something that they saw in the store and that they maybe don't need but that they just had to buy because it reminded them of their partner

getting them a new video game that they can play together

buying them new gear for a hobby that they enjoy

purchasing tickets to their favourite artist/s

gifting them a sentimental piece of jewellery

buying them a limited edition of their favourite book

creating and gifting them with a scrap book full of photos and sentimental items, like tickets that show their relationship

More: Gift Ideas

#love language #love languages #writing ideas #writeblr #writing prompts #writing prompt #writers on tumblr #creative writing #receiving gifts

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evercelle · 4 months

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merry merry christmas!!

#danganronpa v3 #ouma kokichi #saihara shuichi #saiouma #ever makes art #ever gifts #i wasnt originally gonna send holiday cards this year but i changed my mind last minute and had to paint this quickly...#happy holidays!! i hope everyone got their cards (or will soon!)#btw my mama saw the cards while i was writing them and instantly thought ouma was really suspicious. lmao #shes never seen a danganronpa in her life but its nice to know ouma instinctively incites suspicious. thats character

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persnickety-doodles · 5 months

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But Korra's protests die on her tongue as Asami pulls her in for another kiss, and by the time they resurface their tea has long since gone cold.

Under Me, Over Me, Any Way You’ll Have Me by @korrasamibottles

I’m back with another inspired doodle! ☺️ Enjoy!

#tbh I’ve been fighting one heck of an art block #then B posts some writing and BOOM I’m back again!#back for now at least #I love gifting art if you can’t tell already #warning the fic is r18 #but this scene was too cute I adored it #korrasami #persnickety doodles #alicia draws #korrasamibottles #art inspired #lok #avatar

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ghostbsuter · 5 months

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"Hello there, little comet."

Robin wirled around with his sword pointed, standing still just before the skin of the others throat.

"Always so tense." The person teases and Robin tuts, pulling his sword back.

"Still obnoxious as always, Wraith."

The man chuckles lightly, stepping out of the shadows with a wave. "Have you learned any slang now that you live with your father? Fitting in is one of the most important skills for an assassin."

Robin scowls. "I'm not an assassin anymore."

The man is undeniable smiling beneath the mask, green eyes crinkling. It has Damian feeling all soft and squishy, he turns around with a huff, kicking the ridiculousness of those feelings away.

"You have grown."

"I have."

"I'm glad."

Robin averts his eyes as his comm comes to life, crackling in his ear. "Robin, mugging happening around the corner from your position."

He gives his acknowledgement, turning back to the man—

Only for him to be gone.

Damian sighs. "Until then, brother."

He leaps across the buildings, stepping in as the mugging happens.

—

(Usually, I would put this in the tags, but I'll put it here now for some background!)

Wraith, also formally known as Danyal al Ghul, son of Talia al Ghul and Lady Shiva.

He is younger than his sister, Cass, but older than Damian. During his league days, his loyalty stayed towards Talia, always has until he met Damian as a baby.

He became his guard, much like Cass was supposed for the Demon Head, one of the few teachers Jason had after and went on missions with.

Does he reappear later again? Who knows! He is still with the League, under Talia's command while sticking close to Ra's. A spy if you will.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #fic prompt #writing prompt #dc x dp prompt #Damian and Danny are siblings #damian and danny are ride or die #damian would like his older brother back pleass #dannu is sending him gifts later to the manor #batdad: who are these from #dami: my elder brother #batdad: .............#dami: rest assured father Danyal is much like Repsawn and I #batdad: who is the other parent?#dami: lady shiva i believe #cue to cass snappung her head to them with wide eyss #shes mouthing “brother?” all over with confusion and brows furrowed with concentration

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kenjakusbraincum · 6 months

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Heey, I LOVE your writings on soft sukuna, you write so beautifully🩷 please can you do one where he is jealous (fluff)😭🩷

Thank you sm for the kind words!!! Here's my best attempt at doing your idea justice <3

Sukuna has no real reason to be jealous. He practically owns you, controls every aspect of your life, who or what could he possibly be jealous of? Every servant who dared approach you in an inappropriate way would be dealt with swiftly. And you're a good pet, who has eyes for no one other than your master. You really don't give him a reason.

But there's this one thing... Since you've been so good and obedient, Sukuna has allowed you many liberties. You're permitted to skip around the mansion, watch Uraume cook, even enjoy little hobbies. You've tried many before you found that crocheting particularly piqued your interest. Ever since you've learned the basics, you've been spending hours working on perfecting your skills. At first it was cute, watching you squint in concentration as you move the hook. But then the math became really simple - having this hobby to keep you busy meant you approached Sukuna out of boredom a lot less. And he noticed it. It irked him, but you're not technically doing anything wrong. You were still as happy to serve him as ever, he just had to ask. But why would he have to ask? You should be all over him on your own. He should have to push you away, not beg you to give him attention. He didn't like this disturbance in your master and pet balance that this little hobby of yours caused.

He stands at the door now. You're crocheting again. You and your favorite servant laugh at your failed creation so sweetly, you don't even notice he's waiting. He clicks his tongue to establish his presence, and your servant falls to her knees immediately. You however, are not held to that high of a standard anymore.

"Master!", you call him, and hop up to greet him with a deep bow. Before he can say anything, you've picked up the piece of fabric you've been working on and ran into his arms to show him.

He looks at the ugly form and scoffs. "This is what I'm sponsoring?", he says and pulls a loose piece of yarn, making your little creation fall apart. He always was a bully, but you note his bad mood.

"I'm only a beginner...", you sulk.

"That much is obvious.", he flicks the yarn away and it falls onto the floor. Before you can bend to pick it up, he seizes your wrist and pulls you back. "Aren't you a little young to waste time with hobbies for the elderly?", he asks. You look at him with your cutest, practiced doe eyes, but it doesn't work.

"Come, pet. I know an activity more suitable for your age.", he says when you don't respond, and steps out of the room. You hop after him, unaffected by his condescending comments. You know that they're just for show. If he really thought you were a hag, you would've been gone a long time ago.

"Sitting at your throne all day?", you tease innocently and join him at his side, sliding your arm underneath one of his. You hope your playfulness will distract him from whatever is bothering him. "Or in a bath?" His lower set of eyes peeks at you and smirks, noticing that you're feeling particularly daring today. He's not sure how he feels about that. "Or in your bed." He rolls his eyes gently and opens the door to his chambers.

"At least then you'd be serving your purpose and actually spending time with your master.", he comments and shuts the door. His comment catches you a bit off guard and you stop in front of his bed. He makes his way towards you, and you look up at him with an insulted expression.

"Master, are you jealous of a ball of yarn?", you ask playfully, and squeal when he suddenly pushes you down to sit on the bed. Now you're at eye level... with his crotch.

"You've got quite a big mouth today. Put it to good use for a change, will you?", he runs his hand from the crown of your head to the back of your neck. You seem to have struck a nerve, so it really is the ball of yarn. Is it possible that Sukuna is this clingy?

"Will you?", he repeats and tugs on your hair and narrows his eyes. You smile obediently and reach behind him to untie his obi.

"Yes Master."

You try your best to manage the time you spend crocheting from then on, working on productivity in the hours that you dedicate to developing this skill. And it helps that you have a specific goal in mind now: helping Sukuna realize that this hobby is a friend, not an enemy. He still catches you engaging in it sometimes, and gives you a dirty look, but you're as quick as ever to drop what you're doing and join him. That seems to satisfy him.

When you're finally happy with the result of your creation, you look for Sukuna around the mansion. It's not really that hard to find him, as he frequents three places most of all: the dining room, his bedroom and his throne room. This time, he's sitting on his throne, and a small line of people wait for their turn to be gifted his attention. You on the other hand, don't have to wait in line to get it. His lower set of eyes spots you the moment you enter the chamber. You're allowed to roam the mansion, but barging in unannounced is not standard even for you.

Still, Sukuna has learned that you usually only feel daring enough to cross boundaries when you're sure he'll like what you have in mind. So for now, he will let this slide. He's bored as hell anyways. The people are dismissed and you pass by them on your way to his throne, nestled on a pile of bones. You stop in front of it and greet him with a bow.

"Master, I come to you with a humble offering.", you say with your hands on your thighs and your eyes fixated on the ground.

"Show me.", he says simply, but you recognize entertainment in his voice. You climb up the bones and feel his stare scan you from head to toe, before you sit on his knee.

"May I ask you to close your eyes?", you ask and flutter your lashes. Oh the way you seduce him. Who else could ask Sukuna to do something as dangerous as close his eyes? Give his opponent valuable time to land an attack. Who else could dare? And who else would he ever listen to and really close his eyes? Really do as he's told? Oh how safe he feels with you.

You take one of his large hands into yours, and gently pry his long fingers away to open his palm. He has beautiful hands. The only ones you've ever known, but you're sure they're the most beautiful hands in the world. So dangerous, so elegant. You want to press a kiss to his palm, but you hope your gift will have the same, maybe even more profound effect.

Something soft touches his skin, and then you speak, as politely as before. "You may look.", in your softest voice. And when he opens his eyes, he finds himself looking at you first. You're an offering on your own.

Then he looks at his hand. Two crocheted plush figures resembling him and yourself lay flat on his palm, connected through their holding hands. At first glance, it looks like they're two separate creations. In a sense, they are, but... He tries to part them.

"We're sewn together.", you explain. He hums in amusement and inspects your gift more closely. His plush is bigger, recognizable by the pink hair and four buttons for eyes. It's even wearing his favorite kimono. Yours is smaller and less detailed. You look like any other human when placed next to him, insignificant. But in a sea of pets, entertainers and lovers he's had in the past, he would never fail to recognize it as you.

He's spent so long looking at it with that face of his that you just can't read. You're starting to grow restless in his lap, and he feels your eyes dwell into his soul. When he looks back at you with one pair of eyes, your brows are furrowed in worry and you're fiddling your hands in your lap. He pats you on the head and pulls you closer, so you have no choice but to lean on his frame.

"It's beautiful, darling.", his fingers run through your hair, scraping your scalp softly. "No loose threads either.", he looks at you with all four eyes now, and you feel so small in his arms. You're not used to receiving this many compliments from Sukuna at once. Not ones that weren't directed at your body or performance. Especially not when he's looking at you so tenderly, when every word sounds so loving and genuine. "You've improved so much.", his hand is on your face now, and you catch him glancing at your lips. You part them to start thanking him, but you already know how much he hates listening to that.

You stay quiet instead, and lean closer, letting him take you. And he kisses you so softly, fingertips light against your heated skin. You feel like you're floating, like a lily pad in a warm pond. The littlest gesture of his affection has you melting in his embrace. The power he has over you... and how wonderful it is to surrender yourself to it.

None of the liberties and privileges you've been awarded with compare to this. You know that many pets have walked these halls before you. Many warmed his bed and claimed the title of his favorite. But how many loved him like this? Enough to dedicate time of their day to making intricate gifts. How many could say Sukuna kissed them lovingly, for no other reason than to show gratitude and affection?

You're flushed completely red by the time his lips leave yours. You can't hold the intensity of his gaze, as he stares at you in adoration. "I'm happ.. I'm glad you l-like it...", you stumble through the words and win a giggle out of him. You are just so cute. Like a pet should be. He rubs your head again and pushes you away lightly.

"Go now, the people await me.", he says with a benevolent smile gracing his face. "I'll see you tonight."

You bow to him and leave.

And when you visit him that night, he is as gentle as he was when he kissed you earlier, still in a good mood after your gift. Caressing your hair, shoulders and back, as you lay comfortably with your head on his chest. Keeping you warm in his embrace. You're trying your best to follow the conversation, but sleep is slowly taking over you. Sukuna notices and plants a kiss to your forehead, wishing you goodnight. The last thing you see before your eyes close, is your handcrafted plushies sitting on his nightstand.

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #soft sukuna #ok hear me out #im not sure how well i did the “jealous” prompt justice #bc i just struggled to conceptualize how sukuna would even be jealous #when hes in control the way he is in this little universe #(which i write in by default bc i know it best as it lives rent free in my head)#sooo maybe the jealous part got lost along the way #and maybe this ended up exploring gift giving as sukunas love language further #but i hope you like it anyways!!!#also> i have no ideas how to use tumblr in other words line break and stuff like that is maths to me #im also not sure and welcome any input is it better to post writing directly in the answer to the ask #or should i post it separately and just add that it was requested by anon/other person

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elizabethminkel · 2 months

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Earlier this week I reported on the very depressing for-profit fic pirating happening in certain corners of fandom—but (somewhat coincidentally, timing-wise) I also had the joy of reporting this story on fanbinding, and the work of the @renegadeguild! Featuring the words (and fanbinds) of the brilliant @celestial-sphere-press, @butterfingersbookbinding, and @fanboundbooks (who also talked about Renegade on the most recent Fansplaining episode).

Renegade's binders are strong proponents of the non-monetized gift economy—they truly embody the spirit of fanfiction, in my opinion, both in the communal way they share their work with fic writers and each other, and in the DIY way they approach making books:

There’s a strong parallel between the amateur, instinctive nature of fanfiction and the act of fanbinding. While plenty of fic is penned by formally trained writers, much of it is not. Tiffo, who binds as Fanboundbooks, likens the reverse-engineering involved in teaching oneself both activities. As writers, people try to figure out why stories work. Fanbinders collectively share the process of learning to turn that work into a physical object—tactile, clean, often beautiful. Fic is largely unencumbered by the forms and structures of traditional publishing, and fanbinders approach their work with the same spirit. “People will often say, ‘How do I do this?’ or ‘What’s the rule for this?’” Tiffo says. “The answer that we always try to throw in Renegade is, ‘This is what other people have done, but know that there is no rule to your book—you can make whatever you want.’”

It's a shame seeing people conflate the bad actors of the pirating situation—many of whom don't appear to be in fandom and seem motivated by pure profit—with the work of fanbinders at large, and seeing people scared to try out fanbinding because of the recent news. Not-for-profit fanbinding is just as legal as writing fanfiction, and I don't speak for all fic writers, but if someone ever bound one of my fics, I'd be so touched I would almost definitely weep. 😭

#fanbinding #fanfiction #renegade bindery #fanbound books #celestial sphere press #butterfingers binding #gift economy #fannish crafts #atlas obscura #my writing

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hisui-dreamer · 8 months

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Hi, congratulations on 1k followers! I love your writing a lot and I was hoping you could do Villainess AUs with Malleus? Like isekai manhwa style? Thank you!!

the gazelle's sweet briar

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x f!reader

Synopsis: your first objective was to avoid the main characters, but it's not easy when you only have the memories of your friend's ramblings to work off of

Tags: cliché isekai plot, reincarnation, fluff, arranged marriage, tw (mentioned): bad parenting, patriarchal society, death

Word count: 1.6k+

Notes: @coralinnii has an amazing series based on isekai villainesses, so i definitely recommend you check out her work too! im so in love with it (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

Masterlist

Once upon a time, there lived a villainess of exceptional allure, her visage as enchanting as a moonlit night. However, this bewitching beauty concealed a heart blackened by a singular obsession with appearances.

From the earliest days of her upbringing, her mother, a woman who had managed to step into aristocracy by charming a noble, had instilled in her a cruel belief: that those who were not blessed with physical perfection were destined for lives of relentless mockery and eternal solitude. This twisted ideology consumed the villainess' every thought, blinding her to the virtues of education and morality. She became nothing more than a porcelain doll, admired solely for her aesthetic charm.

The King arranged a marriage between her and Duke Draconia, the enigmatic descendant of the dragons who ruled the northern lands, believing that such a striking bride would surely please the reclusive Duke.

However, the King remained oblivious to the swirling rumours that pervaded the courtly circles. Whispers spoke of the Duke as a hideous man who had never once revealed his face, perpetually concealed behind a forbidding black mask. When the rumours reached the villainess' ears, she threw tantrum after tantrum, vehemently refusing to wed a man whose appearance couldn't possibly match her own.

Yet, a royal decree could not be denied. Reluctantly, the villainess embarked on her journey to the northern realm in bitter acceptance. It had rained the moment she arrived, the castle dark and uninviting, with thorns crawling onto the obsidian walls. The Duke, an oblivious and shy man, did not greet her at the grand entrance. Instead, she was met by the Duke's advisor, a man with a curiously boyish features.

Humiliation welled up within the villainess' heart, for she felt as if she were being played the fool by the entire duchy. On the eve of her arrival, anxiety gnawed at her like a relentless spectre.

As night descended, the Duke, mustering his courage, attempted to approach the vexed lady.

But when the villainess beheld his masked face, terror seized her like a vice. "Stay back! You hideous beast!" she cried out, her voice trembling with fear, and she recoiled, her steps faltering as she retreated from him.

The Duke, wounded by her cruel words, attempted to console her, his outstretched hand beseeching understanding. Yet, her irrational dread overcame her, and she continued her backward retreat until, with a heart-stopping scream, she slipped from an open window.

That was how the villainess' life ended.

you hadn't actually read the book, but it wasn't difficult identifying who you got reincarnated as

especially with how your best friend obsessed over this villainess because, and i quote, "if pretty, why evil, huh???"

you woke up a week before the villainess would depart for the North, but that week alone was enough to make you understand the way she acted

every day, you were fed portions fitting of a child, had your skin rubbed raw as you were bathed, and not a moment of your mother's nitpicking about a sudden imperfection she found in you

in truth, you were more than glad to leave for the North, even if that's where your life would be on the line

the survival plan was simple: maintain an amicable relationship with the duchy until the night the heroine stumbles in to ask for a night of shelter, to which the heroine would heal the emotional wounds of the Duke, and share with him the beauty of love, bringing warmth into his heart

and so, you arrived at the estate, the castle tall and intimidating with the clouds dark and foreboding

still, you stepped out of your carriage (with wobbly legs) and met the advisor (your friend's favourite character, in fact)

the advisor, lilia, though seemed young, was actually the very man who raised the duke in the absence of his parents

he welcomed you as the lady of the duchy, and led you to your quarters

by nightfall, you were quite comfortable with living in the estate

everyone was polite, the food was delicious (and properly sized), and you had no doubt you'd settle nicely here

as a precaution to the death sequence, you decided to take a stroll in the rose garden after dinner

if you were already on the ground floor, you couldn't fall to your death, right?

but unexpectedly, you encountered a lone figure in the centre of the garden

he was incredibly tall, dressed simply, his emerald eyes fixated on the estate

upon closer inspection, you noticed he had long horns as well, perhaps he was a gazelle beastman?

either way, you were curious about what it was that held his attention so strongly that he couldn't notice your presence

"Excuse me, sir? May I ask what is so interesting about the building?" you timidly break the silence of the night.

The man turns to you, his eyes widening in surprise. "... Do you not know who I am?"

You blinked in confusion at his words. His words filled you with a sense of foreboding. You wondered if this person matched any of the characters your friend had so fervently described, but all you could recall was the beautiful villainess and the enigmatic advisor to the Duke.

"My apologies, I'm afraid I do not... May I know your name, sir?"

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he considered your question. "No... If that is the case, you may call me whatever you wish."

Perplexed by his response, you tried to come up with a suitable name. "Then... May I call you Mr. Gazelle?"

Upon hearing your words, he burst out in laughter. "Hahaha! What an interesting choice. Very well, I accept the name," he said. "In response to your first question, I was observing the gargoyles of the building."

on that night, not only did you learn more about the fascinating functions gargoyles serve, you also made your first friend in this life

strangely enough, you didn't meet the duke at all unlike the novel, which though strange, you greatly welcomed

if you didn't have any ties with him, then it'd be so much easier to just divorce him, get the money, and live a comfortable luxurious life far away from the main characters

though as you say that, you find yourself wanting to spend more and more time with "Mr Gazelle"

despite his intimidating appearance, he turned out to be a very generous person, frequently gifting you little trinkets he's made or bouquets he's arranged

he's started calling you "Briar", after the roses in the garden where he met you

you greatly appreciated the nickname, it felt better to be called that than the name of the villainess, that you could just be yourself and not play the role of a villainess avoiding ruin

you also find that whatever musings you've mentioned to him, they somehow manifest themselves

oh? you wish you could learn about embroidery? the next day there's a basket full of the highest quality threads and fabrics, with a gentle tutor to help you learn

(you still remember how cute "Mr Gazelle" looked when you gave him your first finished product, a handkerchief with an embroidered gargoyle)

what's this? you'd like to try more desserts from the capital you were never allowed to try? say no more! the next day the chef presents you with 10 different choices!

so you assumed he was an advisor of sorts to the Duke, because how else could your requests be granted so easily?

but one day, around two months after you started living in the duchy, "Mr Gazelle" asked you questions about the duke, whether you were afraid of him, would you prefer to meet him, curious questions like that

though surprised by the topic, you answered honestly, saying you don't really believe in the rumours (because you know from your friend he's an ethereal beauty) and yes, you would like to meet your husband

and what do you know? lilia informs you the duke wants to share dinner with you. what a coincidence!! :)

Nervousness held you in its grasp as you stepped into the room. Your gaze remained fixed on the carpet beneath your feet, and your knees bent gracefully as you executed the perfect curtsey.

"Your Grace."

You could hear sounds of shuffling, and then a pair of black boots entered your field of vision. Familiar hands found yours, guiding you to rise and stand upright. "Rise, my Briar," he murmured gently.

With hesitant anticipation, you finally looked up, taking in the obsidian mask that concealed his face. That voice, that nickname, and those enchanting eyes—it was all too familiar.

"Mr Gazelle..." you whispered in disbelief.

His eyes narrowed in mirth as he chuckled. "Although I hold great fondness for that name, I do wish you could call your husband by his name," he said as he began to remove his mask.

"Malleus..." you breathed.

A tender smile graced his lips, and his eyes sparkled with affection as he delicately brushed a stray lock of hair from your face—a gesture he had done countless times before. "My sweet Briar, I implore you to forgive me for deceiving you. I wished nothing more but to know you," he pleaded.

Oh, with how loud your heart was pounding in your chest, you realized that you were irrevocably and hopelessly ensnared in a love story that had deviated far from the original story.

But you didn't feel a single ounce of regret.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#bts of writing this #malleus fell so hard on the first night #he gave gifts as a form of courting #cuz dragon instincts #also lilia the whole time was like “young people and their love issues”#✧1k! another life✦#twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #twisted wonderland malleus

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theellipelli · 2 years

Text

he's neurodivergent

#tmw when you write a fanfic and it slowly turns into projecting because. yeah #i have given hunter the gift of everything that's wrong with me. this makes me very happy #art #fanart #the owl house #hunter #flapjack #toh

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sentientcave · 14 days

Text

Retirement Party

Price has retired from Military life, and he's not handling the change well. But on the one year anniversary of him hanging it up, his boys bring him something special to help keep him busy. You.

Chapter One - The Perfect Gift

Contains: No Y/N, Kidnapping, Stalking, Drugging, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Threats (open-ended), I guess this might count as human trafficking?, Dubcon everything because Reader is terrified (non-sexual), plus-sized reader, fem/afab reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real.

~3.2k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above

"I told ye, she's perfect," Soap said, eyes on the window across the street. They could see you puttering around your living room, wearing a pretty flower print dress as you tidied up. "Good with bairns too, met her when I was pickin' up the niece and nephew from school. She was workin' for some rich family, an' they let her go because the wife found a pair of her knickers in her husband's briefcase." He snickered. He'd been the one to put them there, although, in his opinion, he’d been pushing the bounds for a long while anyway. Sure he’d essentially cast you adrift, jobless and with no one looking out for you, but, well, they were looking after you now, weren’t they? So it wasn’t all that bad.

"Good job, pup," Ghost said fondly, ruffling Johnny's hair. "Captain's gonna love 'er."

"How do you lads want to play it?" Gaz asked. "Could go in tonight. Won’t take much to knock her out, pack up her things, take her to the cabin. Get her nice and situated for when Price gets back."

"No point in waitin', is there?" Ghost asked. "Nice she's on the ground floor. Makes takin' 'er things easier. I'll go round 'n' check the windows in a bit. Should wait till after midnight. Don't want to be spotted by the neighbours."

"No' much risk o' tha'," Soap said. "Knocked over a bunch of bins last I was here and the cunts didna even turn on a light. Just the bonnie thing worryin’ while the rest of ‘em sleep sound."

Gaz lit a cigarette, nodding thoughtfully. "Small apartment too. Is there much to move?"

Soap shook his head. "Nah, no' much. Sweet girl lives simply. I told ye, she's perfect for the captain. He'll be able to spoil the fuck out of her, once she's broken in, aye?"

"Know 'e'll like that. Man needs a wife to dote on. ‘e’s been goin’ a bit crazy, all alone. An' 'e can train'er up nice."

"Think he might share?" Gaz asked wistfully, exhaling a stream of thin smoke as he sighed. "Nice soft girl like that-- Plenty to go around."

Ghost laughed. "Thought we'd 'ave trouble gettin' Johnny to keep 'is 'ands to 'imself, and you're the one droolin'."

"Scuse me for having eyes, mate. Just think she looks sweet."

"We'll get to see first 'and soon.” Ghost clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on lads. Let's get ready."

You wake up on the hard metal floor of a moving vehicle, your pounding head cradled in someone's hands. That's what you notice first, and the thumbs rubbing circles against your neck soothingly.

It has the opposite effect. Your eyes fly open.

“Hi, bonnie,” a somewhat familiar face grins down at you, blue eyes smiling, but too intense, glittering in the low light that filters in from the windows at the front of the truck. “How’s yer head?”

You grimace, trying to make sense of what’s going on around you. The back of the van seems to be filled with boxes. “Aren’t you Finn and Rory’s uncle?”

“Aw, ye remember me? Knew ye were a sweetheart.”

You try to sit up, but Johnny puts a strong hand on your shoulder and keeps you where you are. Your head feels too heavy to try and fight him, your muscles weak. “What’s going on?” you ask. “What— Is this a kidnapping?”

“Tha’s an ugly word, bonnie. We’re doin’ ye a favour, really. Settin’ ye up with someone respectable. Captain’ll take good care of ye.” He pats your cheek. “Whyna get back to sleep? Still a ways to go, aye?”

Maybe it’s just a bad, weird dream. You do feel foggy, like you’re not fully attached to your body, and keeping your eyes open is a struggle. You’ll wake up back in your own bed, and have a funny story to tell if you ever bump into Johnny again. He’s definitely too nice to be a kidnapper, right? Like, people don’t really do that sort of thing. It has to be a dream.

“Okay,” you mumble, letting your eyes close again.

As you suspected, you wake up again in bed. The headache’s receded some, and there’s warm sunlight streaming in through the windows. You bury your face into the pillows, and then bolt upright. The pillow smells weird, like sweet tobacco and spice, and you don’t get morning sun in your bedroom. The window faces a brick wall across a narrow alley.

The room you’re in now is not your room. It’s sparsely furnished, just a dresser under the window and the bed you’re tucked into, and two doors, one that’s clearly a closet, and one that must lead out into the rest of the… house? Judging by the sound of birdsong outside, you’re out of the city.

You pad to the window and look out. There’s a van in the driveway, and three men carrying things in. One of them looks up and spots you in the window, waving cheerfully.

Not a dream. Fear grips you, ice sliding down your spine, shards settling in your stomach, needling and uncomfortable. Your sinuses prickle like you’re about to cry, but no tears come. You’re too dehydrated to summon them. It’s hard to tell how long you’ve been out— It’s fully daylight outside, but you have no idea what time. A second look around the room finds a digital clock sitting on the nightstand, 3:05 glaring back at you in red.

There’s a knock on the door, and it pushes open. The man who walks in is handsome, smiling at you so beautifully that your automatic response is to try and smile back, although you feel that it’s flimsy, unsure. There’s no chance that this man is here to help you, but you at least hope he’s not here to hurt you either.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks. His voice is as pleasant as his face is, smooth and cheerful, although it makes you wary about him on principle. “You hungry?”

You shake your head. It’s not true, but you can’t trust that there wouldn’t be drugs in anything they give you.

“Well, come on downstairs, hm? Get some water at least. Maybe a tea?”

Your stomach churns. “I might be sick,” you manage to squeak out. He quickly ushers you out into the hall and into a bathroom. You don’t make it to the toilet, but you do manage to make it to the sink. If you had a little more fire in you, you might have tried to vomit bile onto the pretty man’s shoes, but it’s hard to shake the instinct to be good, not to make any trouble, to hope that they’ll just let you go. You’re not even sure what they want. You have no family to ransom, you don’t have any money to speak of, you’re just a fat little ex-nanny still paying off an English Literature degree from a second-rate college.

You turn on the sink to wash away the sick, and rinse your mouth out. Your hands start shaking when you realize your toothbrush is sitting in the holder next to the sink, like it belongs there. Your makeup bag is sitting on the counter too, and when you look down, you realize you’re standing on your own bathmat, taken from your home and arranged here, as if effects from your own house are supposed to make you feel comfortable. You look at your reflection in the mirror, and then at the man still standing in the doorway, his brown eyes all concern, as if he wasn’t party to a fucking nightmare.

You straighten up, gripping the counter to steady yourself. “What the hell is this?” you ask, trying to inject some authority into your quaking voice. “Who are you? What do you want from me?”

“I’m Gaz. Nice to meet you. Johnny had lots of nice things to say about you.”

So that hadn’t been a dream either. You look around the room desperately, looking for anything that could possibly be used as a weapon, but Gaz seems to know exactly what you’re doing, and he steps into your space quickly to grab your hands.

“None of that. Come on. You’ll feel better after a tea, yeah? Then you can get ready to meet the captain.”

He leads you downstairs. Questions spin around your head, but you’re not sure if it’s worth asking. Gaz only bothered to respond to one of the three you’ve asked so far, and it wasn’t the one that you were most interested in an answer to. So you stay quiet instead, taking in the layout of the big room. A front door and a back door, and windows that look out onto a forest on one side of the property, and more forest on the other side, beyond a large cleared space with a neat garden and a few fruit trees. There’s a second building that you can just see the corner of from the kitchen window, more likely a garage than a neighbour.

Gaz backs you up against the counter and leans down slightly, his hands gripping your thighs. You panic, the touch surprising you, and slap him across the face. The sharp sound makes you freeze, like it wasn’t you that had done it. He takes advantage of your surprise to shove you up onto the counter and grab both your hands with one of his, all the friendliness draining our of his eyes in an instant as he points a scolding finger at you. You feel like you’ve done something naughty that you’re not fully aware of the implications of yet, a badly trained dog or a child. “I’m going to let that one slide, because I understand that this is a big change for you. But you’re not going to like what happens if you try that again, understood?”

You nod quickly, your own eyes wide. “I-I’m sorry,” you say, the instinct for appeasement rearing it’s skittish little head.

And then the smile returns, as pretty as before, storm clouds blowing away as though they’d never been there to begin with. “It’s alright, doll. Just don’t do it again. And definitely don’t try that attitude on with the captain.” He taps the pointing finger against your nose playfully, and lets your hands drop back into your lap.

The rules seem simple enough. Be good and sweet, and get friendly faces in return, to a degree. No matter how cooperative you are, you doubt they’re going to let you go home. Fighting back means consequences, and you’re not sure how far those consequences will extend. If you’re too much trouble, it’s not a stretch to imagine that they’ll just kill you outright and try again with a meeker woman. You don’t yet know if death would be the more preferable outcome.

You pull your sweater down over your thighs. The black zip-up hoodie isn’t yours (the word Riley is stitched onto the front of it), but it’s big, and even though it smells faintly of cigarettes, it affords you at least a little modesty and comfort, more than the tank top and the sleep-shorts you’re wearing underneath do. Riley must be the third man. Was he the captain? Or was there a fourth one somewhere?

Johnny comes through the door carrying your suitcases, and he grins widely when he sees you, the charming, boyish one that you’d thought was handsome before. It’s only unnerving now. “Didja have a good sleep, bonnie?”

“You drugged me,” you accuse.

“Weel, of course. You were no’ goan ta come all peaceable, and LT wouldna be patient if ye were cryin’ the whole way here.” He trots upstairs, and you can hear him drop the bags with a thump, before he’s clattering back down the steps and leaning against the counter next to you. “How’d’ye like yer new home, bonnie? S’a nice place, aye? Better than tha’ little shoebox back in the city.”

“I like my apartment,” you protest.

“Psh, ye’d say tha’. Puttin’ on a brave face since yer such a good girl. But it wasna verra safe, was it? No’ a single neighbour paid us any mind while we were loadin’ up yer things. No’ a good place for a single girl, aye?” He reaches out and puts a big hand on your knee, squeezing lightly. “Now ye’ll be taken care of, like ye should be.”

“I don’t want to be taken care of.”

“Nonsense. Ye’ll be glad, once ye get used to things. Already looks real homey in here, don’t ye think?” He gestures at the living room.

You twist to look, and your stomach sinks. Your throw pillows are on the couch, one of the afghans you crocheted hanging over the back of it. You recognize the titles of your books on the shelves. These men were nothing if not thorough, surgically removing your entire life and transplanting it to this house in the woods, with it’s wood panel walls and big, overstuffed leather couches.

He continues blithely, like he’s not delivering some of the most horrifying news you’ve ever heard. “Most of your furniture’s in the garage, ye can sort tha’ out with Price, aye? But we brought all yer clothes and decorations and whatnot in. Figure ye should wear tha’ pretty black sundress, an’ those long stockin’s with the clippy belt, ye ken the one? Cap’ll like those.”

They’d been through all your things. If you had anything left to throw up, you might’ve again. Gaz sets a glass of water on the counter next to you. “How d’you take your tea, doll?”

“Milk, two sugars,” Johnny answers for you. “Our sweet lass has a sweet tooth, aye?”

“How do you know that?” You can hear the quiver in your voice, and it doesn’t slip by either of them.

“Come oan, hen, ye ken I didna jus’ pick ye off the street. Did my research. Wouldna pick just anyone for the captain.”

“When he said he’d found the perfect girl, we didn’t believe him at first,” Gaz says, leaning against the counter on the other side of the kitchen while the tea steeps. “But Ghost and I knew he was right, soon as we saw you.” He nods at the glass. “Drink your water. You haven’t had anything since last night.”

“Is it drugged?” you ask flatly.

“No, want ye awake for when Price gets here. Yer a real cute thing asleep, but we want him ta hear yer pretty voice and see that smile, aye?” Johnny reaches past you and picks up the glass of water, taking a big swig to demonstrate it’s harmlessness.

You take a careful sip when he hands it back to you, and then another, resisting the urge to just gulp the whole thing down. The door opens again, and the biggest man you’ve seen in your life walks in, wearing a black t-shirt and a mask with the jaw of a skull printed on it, pulled up over the lower half of his face. He looks at you dispassionately, and then at Gaz and Johnny. “What the ‘ell have you two muppets been sayin’ to the poor thing?” he asks, his voice rumbling like an avalanche. “She looks like she’s gonna faint.”

“Figure she’s just peaky,” Gaz says defensively. “I’m making her tea.”

The big guy swats Johnny’s hand away from your knee impatiently, and cages you in against the counter, one huge arm on either side of you. “How’re you feelin’ bird? Be honest.”

“Terrified,” you admit.

He chuckles. “Sensible, considerin’. But you don’t need to worry, olright? No one’s gonna hurt you, so long as you’re good. And you want to be good, don’t you, bird?”

You nod. You’d thought Gaz and Johnny were big, but this one’s huge, broad and tall and even scarier. It’s clear why they started off introducing themselves to you in the order they did. If this man had been the first thing you’d seen after waking up you probably would have gone into hysterics.

“Use your words, pet.”

“I want to be good,” you say obediently, because you don’t see any other options, at least for the moment.

“Good girl,” he says, and there’s the slightest hint of a smile in his dark eyes.

Somehow, this is the most comforting thing that you’ve experienced all day. You won’t be hurt if you’re good, and you are being good.

He pushes back from the counter slightly, giving you more space, takes the mug of tea from Gaz, and hands it off to you. “Small sips,” he instructs. “And maybe a biscuit, if you think you can keep it down.”

“Are you the captain?” you ask nervously, gripping the mug with two hands.

“Hm? No. ‘e’s still about an hour out. I’m Simon. Ghost to these two.” He fishes an open package of biscuits out of the cupboard and sets them next to you. “Once you finish your tea, we’ll get you ready. Want to make a good first impression, right bird?”

“Not really,” you admit. “I’d like to go home.”

He laughs, at least finding your honesty amusing. “That won’t be ‘appenin’. If Price dun’t want you, I’ll keep you myself. But I’ll tell you right now, you’ll like Price better. If you’re good for him, he’ll be real good to you, understood?”

You bite your tongue. It won’t do you any good to point out that a man that would accept a person as a gift is probably not capable of being good to anyone. Good is subjective, and the three men in front of you are lunatics. Their captain probably has the slightest bit stronger a grasp on his sanity, or a consistent moral code, if not a particularly righteous one. So you just keep your mouth shut, and drink your tea, and eat two chocolate digestives while Gaz and Johnny start collecting things to make dinner.

As soon as you set your empty mug to the side Ghost pops you down from the counter and ushers you upstairs with a big hand placed a little too low on your back. He tells you what to wear (down to the lingerie), but blessedly doesn’t insist on watching you get dressed. He does sit on the edge of the tub and watch you put on makeup, however, requesting red lipstick and winged eyeliner. Your hands are still a little shaky, but you manage to do as he asks. His eyes smile at you just a little when you’re obedient. You feel pathetic for not making a fuss, but you’re not sure what you can possibly do, except something stupid that will make them angry enough to hurt you.

He helps you into a pair of strappy red heels that had been languishing in the back of your closet before they dug everything out, and straightens the seam of your stockings, running his big hands up your calves. It’s like you’re a doll, dressed just how he wants, something to look pretty and say less than nothing, a gift for some other man you’ve never met to keep on a shelf.

Or worse, to play with.

You hear Johnny and Gaz greet someone downstairs, their voices loud and excited, and your heart skips nervously.

Ghost rises to his feet, smiling so big you can see it even with the mask. “Wait right here, pet,” he says firmly, leaving you sitting on the edge of the bed while he goes off to greet his captain. “Want to introduce you proper.”

So you sit, and you wait, shaking and nervous, for what feels like eternity, until you hear Simon’s surprisingly light footfalls on the stairs again. He offers you a hand, and hoists you over his shoulder as soon as you’re on your feet, carrying you down into the living room.

“We all pitched in,” Gaz says, as casually as if he meant throwing in five dollars for a card. “But she was Soap’s idea.”

“Picked ‘er out special, Cap,” Johnny says. “She’s perfect for ye.”

“She?” an unfamiliar voice asks. “Don’t tell me you got me a dog.”

“Better than that, skipper.” Ghost laughs as he circles around the couch, and drops you carefully into the man’s lap, stepping into line with the other two. “We got you a wife.”

I've been low-key thinking about this concept since I read ohbo-ohno's Don't Leave Me Locked in Your Heart a while back (If you haven't read and you like a good dark fic, you should click that link, you may enjoy it). I think getting someone a person as a gift, or being given as a gift, rather, is a fun fucked up fantasy to explore. I'm not entirely sure where I'll take this but I promise to put in content warnings. Let me know if I miss something, I don't want anyone to be surprised by what they find!

Image Credits: Banner

Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune

#cod mw fanfiction #cave writing #John Price x Reader #x reader #dark fic #Price please keep your dogs on leashes they are terrorizing women #The boys missed the real retirement party because they got emergency deployed and they've been trying to reschedule all year long #Good thing they've got such a good gift to make up for it #The homies in discord agree: These guys are unsettling

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