#gotta prepare for worst-case scenario

[geddy-leesbian]

also I enjoy thinking about Chris's POV for my winterserra fic like poor man really did not understand all of the potential outcomes of his actions

[br1ghtestlight]

i actually have a list of various tv shows and media that i know i could easily become hyperfixated on (in some cases for the second time) if i ever feel like i need to pack up my bags and find a new internet community or if im just feeling bored of the current thing. idk if this is a normal thing but i have a list of Backup Hyperfixations and have had that for many many years. bob's burgers and we bare bears were both on the list

[hiratelier]

Do people actually use the fediverse

I have a Misskey account that I made a couple of months ago and I've been meaning to use it again since I would rather not touch Twitter with a 10ft poll, but I haven't used it in a while apart from posting my art

I'll probably use Misskey more seriously at some point if Tumblr does crash and burn down the line; for now I'll pop on there to post my stuff while backing up my other blogs

AAAND I should probably follow my mutuals at other accounts apart from Tumble while I'm at it... (eyes emoji)

[schemmentisimpasours]

You Belong With Me

Gif as always by @babytakeittothehead

Summary: This was a request by @schemmentisfavoritegirl (why is it not letting me tag you the hell).for Teen Reader that Melissa takes under her wing. Listen this one got away from me and the ending is a little muddled... but it's because I think I want to do a spin on the idea for a series. But I gotta wrap some series up first.

Pairing: MOM!Melissa Schemmenti/Daughter!Reader

Warnings: Bullying, Group Home, Small physical violence

Masterlist

2.4k words

PS: This is scheduled to post while I'm away on a mini vacation so if stuff is messed up I'm sorry! I'll fix it and post when I come home Tuesday. If I'm not stressed out and annoyed from this damn trip 😅

-

“We have 15 high school students from the National Honor Society who will be joining us for a week to help in classrooms for their community service hours. Whenever you are ready, come up and grab their file and then take them with you,” Ava announced at the quick lunch meeting she had called , pointing to the students lined up on the wall.

Melissa was the first in line and pointed at you. You were off, standing in the corner by yourself, tapping your fingers rapidly in time to the music in your AirPods, “I would like her.”

“You sure about that Schemmenti? Teacher said she is a real piece of work. This is apparently her last chance, or she faces suspension. ”

“I’m sure,” Melissa said, taking your file and walking up to you.

At her approach, you removed your earbud and placed it back into your jacket. The first thought that popped into Melissa’s head was that you were respectful, unlike the other teenagers still scrolling their phones as they were approached. You didn’t shy away from her daunting presence, but Melissa could see underneath all your hard exterior that you were scared. Like with one wrong move, everything would fall down around you.

“Come on, kid you are with me,” Melissa said, and you nodded wordlessly.

You followed behind her, head held down, until you entered her classroom. Your mind kept replaying the worst-case scenarios, trying to prepare yourself as much as you could. You had heard about Ms. Schemmenti the fiery redhead of Abbott Elementary and knew one foot out of line and you would be screwed. She pointed to where you could put your stuff, and you couldn’t help but smile at the outrageous math lesson that was on the whiteboard. Fractions of various foods like pizza, apples, and cookies were drawn with a steady hand.

“You like math?” Melissa asked as you continued to stare at the lesson.

“It’s my favorite,” You said with a smile, “The only thing in life that has one answer. No other possibilities or options. Just right or wrong.”

“Alright math wiz, you can help the kids in small groups when they get back from lunch,” Melissa said simply, and it was settled.

Every day you came in, you helped with the math lesson with the kids who struggled just a little more than others and needed the extra support. Melissa watched as you slowly opened up, revealing a little more about yourself every day. And with every fact she knew, Melissa found herself getting a little more attached to you. You worked hard when you were in her class. Taking any critique from her without flinching and doing everything you could to make sure the kids were keeping focused. You always came in with your head down, earphones turned loud, but as soon as you entered Melissa’s class, you lit up all smiles and sarcastic jokes.

Then, when the final bell rang, you would make sure you had completed everything Melissa had asked of you before running off to the bus, avoiding the other kids the best that you could. She knew by day three that you were the outsider of the group. Never talking to the other kids who arrived with you and often being pushed around like you weren’t there at all. It made Melissa’s blood boil for a reason that she couldn’t name. She had watched this type of behavior unfold in front of her before and, of course, had been bothered. But this was different. This was pure rage she felt building in her. She waited for the day that you would snap back and wasn’t surprised when it happened. She was just furious that it happened in front of her eagles.

You had been helping take the kids to the gym when another boy walked by blatantly running into you. Melissa knew this kid, the one who had been put in Morton’s classroom but who often walked around free range. He had been the one to pick on you the most. Always seeking you out just to torment you.

You had brushed off the shove like you usually did until he said, “Eat any good pussy today dyke?”

Melissa had gone to snap at him for the language used in front of the kid, but before she could, you had already punched him square in the face. His head snapped back, blood immediately running down his nose as he fell to the floor. You went to kick him, but Melissa wrapped her arms around you, pulling you away. You kicked against her trying to get back to him as she pulled you into an empty classroom.

“Stay here for a damn minute!” Melissa swore and you flinched at her anger.

You let tears of rage fall down your face as you waited for her return. Why did you have to snap? Why did you always snap? It had brought you nothing but pain and sorrow and you didn’t know how to control it.

“Come on kid,” Melissa said curtly and you followed obediently behind her.

The little eagles were gone and the boy absent. All that was left was Mr. Johnson cleaning up the blood. He gave you a small nod and mouthed the words good job. You nodded back with a small smile.

“Listen I'm really sorry Ms. Schemmenti. I didn't mean to take my shit out in front of the kids like that. I just got… upset,” You said defeatedly once back inside her class, “You heard the awful thing he said to me. It used to be a comment here and there but it is constant now. I just blacked out and next thing I knew I was fucking punching him”

“Ain’t your parents teach you how to behave around other kids, especially the young ones? You take the fight somewhere else if you gotta swing. Away from witnesses,” She asked, anger still riddled in her voice, “And watch your language in my room.”

You shrugged, looking down at the floor. " I haven't seen them since I was ten. I have been in and out of group homes since then. Six of them due to my aggressive behavior. But in my defense I had to. When you are the only queer kid shi…stuff gets bad quick. All that has taught me is to fight first and ask questions later. It’s the only way to survive.”

Melissa was stunned into silence as you played with the sleeve of your jacket. Her lack of response made your anxiety rise. You gathered your stuff, not looking at her, “Look you don’t have to sign the paper. I'll go back to my teacher and tell him it’s not a good fit. Ava can write me up and call home. It will be fine don't worry. I made this mess. ”

Melissa knew that it would have been the end for you there. If your teacher found out you had lost another volunteer placement because of physical violence again, you would have been suspended. Your grades were already hanging in the balance as is, and this teacher already believed that you couldn’t and wouldn’t succeed. She had read most of your file when Ava said that you were the one to watch, but in it, there had been no mention of the group homes or the bullying that came with it. And by the sounds of it with one phone call you could be ripped from there too.The world was constantly trying to break you down, and the dark circles under your eyes told her that you were losing the fight.

“Wait,” Melissa called out to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Ava is already handling the boy and you ain’t getting in trouble. She watched what happened and we all vouched for you.”

“You didn’t have to,” you whispered.

“Of course I had to. I have been watching him bully you all week. It had to stop,” Melissa sighed, “And listen mistakes happen and I ain't gonna let you off easy but I'm not abandoning you either kid. You belong here. You belong with me.”

Tears filled in your eyes as you looked up at her, “You really mean it?”

Melissa wiped away the tears from your cheeks, “Of course I do. You remind me a lot of myself at your age. Angry at the world and thinking the only way through was to go down swinging. But hun, you keep swinging, you are going to hurt more than just the bad people. You gonna push away all the good ones too.”

“I don't want to be like this anymore,” you sobbed and Melissa hugged you close to her.

“I know,” She soothed kissing your head, “And you don’t have to be. I got you, we can work through it together.”

She let you stay there for a couple of minutes, pressed against her, clinging tightly, like she might disappear before she gave you one final squeeze. She wiped away the remaining tears from your face, kissing your forehead lightly, “You got the tears out, now it’s time to work on fixing what you broke. Starting with our little eagles. You gotta go apologize for scaring them.”

Which is exactly what you did when they returned from the gym. You apologized for scaring them, but not for defending yourself. Melissa had made it clear to the class that what was said to you was not nice and that the older boy was in more trouble than you were. It felt nice to have someone stand up for you for once. And when the end of the day came and the bus was there to take you back to your group home, you ran into Melissa’s arms terrified to let go and return back to that world. Her coworkers stared as Melissa clung to you just as fiercely before giving you a kiss on the head and telling you to stay safe.

That night, you were sprawled out on your bed, working on a project for school, doing your best to focus through the typical chaos, when your caseworker told you it was time to pack your things. Your single duffle bag felt like it was full of bricks as you wondered where they were shipping you off to and when you would see Melissa next, if ever again. The fear pounded in your heart all the way up to the driveway of a house that had a huge Italian hanging from the porch. Your face twisted in confusion until you saw her. Waiting for you at the top stair was Melissa a broad grin across her face.

Before the car came to a full stop you were out the door and running up the stairs. She opened her arms and you barreled into her. She laughed holding you close to her, “Welcome home baby girl.”

That night Melissa taught you how to make spaghetti. It was simple but was just a glimpse of the many meals she would teach you. When the plates were cleaned and the table wiped down she sat down and looked through your school portal. Glasses perched on the edge of her nose she ran through your missing assignments and what teachers you had. By the end of the week with many baked zitis involved your missing assignments were turned in and your grades up. The National Honor Society Teacher who had bullied and belittled you was fired and ran out of town. You would never ask how but knew Melissa was involved when a gleam in her eye showed as you told her excitedly of the teacher who replaced him. The boy who had bullied you had gotten expelled for a different incident that week as well and you never heard from him again. You finished the year with honors and enrolled in advanced courses for your junior year.

Your room got filled with posters of celebrities and books that were crammed in every free space. Twinkle lights hung from the ceiling and you hung pictures of you and Melissa on every wall. Your bed was covered in soft blankets and squishmallows you used as pillows. When your friends were over Melissa would sit in the living room listening to the giggles and loud music glad that you were comfortable and safe in her home. When it was just you and Melissa couldn't sleep at night she would stand in your doorway for just a moment to confirm that this wasn't all some elaborate dream. That you were hers just as much as she was yours.

The Thursday before Mother’s Day when you were 17 your adoption was finalized and you became an official Schemmenti. You had been calling Melissa Mom since your first month in her home but something about that mother’s day felt different. A breath released that Melissa didn't even know she held when she remembered you were a Schemmenti. Bound not by blood but by love and devotion to stay no matter what. A huge party was thrown in honor of the adoption and Janine and Jacob could be heard down the street screaming in excitement when they were named your godparents. You gave Melissa numerous gifts that day but her favorite one was something that you had made in art class. A collage of every single photo you had taken with her creating a heart around the quote: I love you Mom. Today, Tomorrow, Always. She had sobbed not caring that all of her coworkers were watching and hugged you so tight you lost your breath for a second.

During your senior year you were selected to participate in a year long mentorship program where you taught alongside a teacher for the last couple hours of the day. You worked alongside Baraba who wrote you a glowing recommendation for University of Pennsylvania’s teaching program. Which you were accepted to with a full ride scholarship and your teaching internship was completed with Barbara. Who when you graduated slipped into retirement leaving you her spot at Abbott Elementary were you worked alongside Melissa for another four years.

When you brought home the woman you would one day marry Melissa had loved her instantly. She walked you down the aisle in tears giving the best speech of the night. She was there every step of your pregnancy and welcomed her granddaughter with a smile and a kiss. Retiring to become the best Nonna she could be transforming your old room into a space her granddaughter could play and stay every weekend.

As you stood watching your daughter sleep in her bed surrounded by the stuffed animals Melissa bought so many years ago she came up beside you and hugged you close, “Told you that you belong with me.”

-

@yoyo-w

@cupldscntrl

@milfslvr

@liliapleasesteponme

@milfjuulpod

@schemmentisfavoritegirl

[applestorms]

do you have lawlight fic recs

*cracks knuckles*

(Not) According to Plan by FlamesRise: this fic was Fundamental to me figuring out what my ideal light (smut) characterization is. fun lawlight lawyers au that is also mostly kinda just about light manipulating himself into an uncomfortable sexual scenario yay👍(this really sets the stage for what the rest of these recs are gonna look like so prepare yourself lmfao. aka these are gonna be like, 90% questionable smut and/or dead dove, i just don't read much else... 🫠 oops)

blood in the walls of the yagami house (series) by qu_ilinn: gotta put the lawlight brocon on there since this is basically what got me into the DN fandom. grins. one of the best Terrible Horrible L depictions ever, i love this series sm lolol <33

rewards for fools by autumnstar88: cough. and so we notice a trend. this is once again light putting himself in a horny situation he's uncomfortable with and then freaking out as he likes it too much LOL, this time set immediately after he gets his memories back during yotsuba. light in a skirt, what else is there to say.

caligula would have blushed by findingsaturn: medical kink going wilddddd this blew my fucking mind the first time i read it. an absolutely delectable ratio of body horror to weird sex stuff, chefs kiss. i also rec corrosive wash and self-surgery, by the same author.

literally anything from the alignmentverse by praise_lilith and tsukinousagi: this is easily one of my favorite lawlight series, every single fic in this collection is absolutely fucking golden. 10/10 some of the funniest light and L characterization ever.

A complex fool and a simplex fool. by gomikyun: also some hilarious lawlight characterization, this time in the canonverse. i don't usually go for bottom L but this is The Exception. shout out to that one time i took like three hours searching for this just to find this stellar quote:

Why, why didn't I do this before? L has to hold himself back from letting out a whiny groan. He should have just pushed Light down and fucked himself ontop of him instead of playing tennis on that stupid fucking court. Would have been a great icebreaker. And made headlines, probably. ‘Hideki Ryuga and Light Yagami, top scorers on the To-Oh entrance exams have a friendly game of… gay sex on the tennis court. This year is looking to be quite interesting!’

Diamond by exAm: another top 3 for me in terms of lawlight being funny and horrible. one of if not The best het lawlight dynamic i've ever read (man light/woman L, in this case). light is such an egotistical, stupid asshole here, hubris through the fucking roof, and it works fantastic. also fun to see L dealing w/ canon-typical DN sexism LMFAO

Back to then by LiveLongEatWell: this one just has great smut idk what else to say. shrugs. also L obsessively fucking himself into the worst possible scenario lolol here's how KIRA could've actually won

Trading Blows and Idle Hands by gayraito (Mercurial_Magic): more yotsuba smut shenanigans, very fun. honestly most things by this author are great, hard to pick just one... The Gift is also great and somewhat inspired some of my own android light in superegos (read my lawlight fics too 🫵 boy)

draw it out by emmerii: VERY noncon no-memories light. smiles. this one makes me actually insane hides in my evil little corner

actually if we're doing the more heavily dead dove ones, there's also Take Me With You or Let Me Follow by WhyDoesEverythingHappenSoMuch and I will take what's mine, create what god would never design by FlamesRise for the specific concept of L being a freak over L's corpse. necrophilia warning? :]

Kouyaku by Not_default: basically a KIRA wins au where L doesn't actually die. sometimes L deserves to be the one locked in the basement ig. very very nice

The Dreadful Need by the_gabih: somewhat non-traditional omegaverse au that is also just about very dubcon prison sex. this makes my brain fucking melt please don't ask why

Perfect Life by foreskinsmoothie: probably the longest thing on this list, this one Fucked Me Up when i finished it a couple weeks ago. OCD light to the extreme, which is additionally Made Worse by L kidnapping him for shits and giggles 👍 that being said, i absolutely adore the ending of this one, so. if you can get past the graphic self-amputation, this is a (very fucked up) lil treat :>

Kira's Guide to the Munchies by plant1r: ok this is more like matsulight but i have to include it for light's characterization alone, AND ALSO NEAR. one of the best near depictions ever. this is hysterical, my favorite weed light fic everrr

praise the sweetness by cxtangerina: read my fic boy 🫵 cult leader L au. unreality apocalypse world wammy's cult weirdness. what more can i say. this is probably gonna have a meronia sequel in the near future so watch out for that (after i post this other lawlight fic anyway, which is ALMOSTTT done uwu everybody clap)

that enuf for you anon?

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for Karam, plus a cut for more; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!

The walk over to the diner is quiet, mostly. Billy tells Lynn where some things are in Fawcett and points some stuff out in the neighborhood, but Lynn doesn’t really say much back. He nods along, though, and Billy's pretty sure he's listening. 

Maybe sure, at least. 

Worst case scenario, he figures he'll just repeat himself later. If Lynn's a little too stressed or overwhelmed to really be listening right now, well, he definitely wouldn't blame him. He's a baby, basically! Everything's gotta be so new and weird and overwhelming for him right now.

Billy isn’t gonna push. Not on day one, when they don’t even know each other yet. Lynn can take his time all he wants right now. It’s not like he’s hurting anyone, or even himself. So Billy just has to be patient with him while he learns stuff, same as any little kid he’s met in the system or on the streets. 

They get to the diner and Lynn hangs back a little bit. Billy suspects Cadmus did really not prepare him for restaurant etiquette and stuff like that, considering. He’s pretty positive it didn’t, in fact. Billy doesn’t go to many restaurants himself, but . . . 

It’s fine, he figures. He just needs to be a good example for Lynn, that’s all. And that’s what he always needs to do right now, so it’s no big deal. 

He hopes he’s being a good example, anyway. He really wants Lynn to be able to trust that he is one, so he can know he has someone to learn from, so . . . yeah. 

Billy goes to the counter, politely gives their fake last name–Batman would not appreciate them half-assing the new secret identities–and tips the waitress twenty percent and thanks her. It’s kind of a lot of food, but they have super-strength and a fridge for leftovers, so he figures it’ll be fine. 

He does feel a little nauseous over how much money he just spent, though. 

Batman gave them way more money than that, Billy reminds himself as he gathers up the bags. And there’ll be more next week. And if they actually somehow run out or just have an emergency, he can just fill out the League paperwork to requisition funds to make up for it. They could spend way more than this and still be fine. 

He’s pretty sure takeout is still gonna be a special occasions only thing, though. And couponing. Couponing is definitely gonna be a thing. 

It’s just a lot of money. 

Billy gets all of the bags juggled into his arms. Lynn looks awkward again and shifts Tawky under his other arm. 

“I can carry it,” he says stiffly. 

“Well, if you wanna,” Billy says. “We could split it?” 

“. . . sure,” Lynn says, still stiff. Billy smiles at him and offers him a couple of the bags. Lynn frowns, but takes them. Billy figures it makes sense Lynn wants to help; that’s pretty normal with little kids. Like, they always wanna do what the older kids are doing, or the adults, or just whoever. So it makes sense Lynn would too, especially if Cadmus didn’t teach him this stuff to begin with. He’s learning, basically. So yeah, it’s normal. 

And also a good sign, Billy hopes, if Lynn trusts he knows what he’s doing enough to copy him. It’s even sorta cute, actually. 

. . . okay, it’s really cute, but Lynn’s kinda a teenager so he might not appreciate hearing that. 

Still cute, though. 

They walk back to the apartment–back home, which is a weird thought, Billy recognizes fleetingly but tries not to focus on right now–and Billy unpacks all the food onto the coffee table in the living room. He figures that’ll be lower-pressure than the kitchen table for their first meal together, and they can put a show or a movie on if Lynn doesn’t want to talk too much or anything. 

Lynn sets Tawky on the end of the table, looking a little awkward about it. Billy smiles encouragingly at him. Tawky doesn’t really need to eat either in his stuffed animal form, but it’s nice that Lynn’s including him at lunch. And food does still taste good, obviously. 

“What do you wanna try first?” he asks, nudging the open box of onion rings over towards Tawky. He knows he likes them. Lynn frowns, looking a little wary. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he says stiffly. “Just . . . whatever.” 

“Okay,” Billy says, figuring that means he’s a little overwhelmed by the options. They did order a lot, so . . . yeah, that makes sense. “How about the soup, then?” 

“. . . sure,” Lynn mutters, and warily pulls the takeout bowl over to himself and takes the lid off. Billy offers him a spoon. Lynn frowns, but takes it. “. . . thanks.” 

“You’re welcome,” Billy says cheerfully. Setting a good example, and all.

[irishmammonagenda]

Ritualistic-Obey Me x Reader

[picture creds] [dividers by @/riottsrph] Summary: You and your friends get a little too wrapped up in the spooky festivities of Halloween. Satan can't help but watch. ;) Word Count: 3.2k Content Warnings: MC is human and this is a different au. probably fem!MC idk i cant write men women are my default. also MC is stupid, like really fucking stupid icl. blood, rituals, implied animal sacrifice, implied gore and violence.

"This was a stupid idea." You think to yourself as you trudge through the dense forest behind your two best friends, avoiding branches and pausing every time you get caught on one.

Noticing your tension, Derek hums, carrying a rucksack on his back and offering you a sip of cider from the can he was holding. No doubt given to him by his Uncle Sam. "Want some? You seem thirsty."

Parched you accept, "Thanks, Derek."

He nods as his cousin Eric turns around from in front of you both, he grins at you, still carefully carrying that cardboard box that they refuse to tell you the contents of. "It's not much further, [Name], don't worry."

Most young adults would be watching horror movies with their friends, or going to a costume party on Halloween Night. But not you three.

You; [Name] [Last Name], Derek Wisconsin, and Eric Vancouver, had something more disturbing planned.

You were going to summon Satan.

Having freshly turned 19, and with Derek preparing to move back to Illinois and, Eric returning to Canada for college; this was your last hurra before being separated.

You shiver, half from the nerves and half from the cold. You should've worn something other than sweatpants and a tank top.

"C'mon [Name], don't be a scaredy cat. We're almost there." Derek teases, shoving you lightly, before throwing his empty can of cider on the forest floor. You glare at him. Sure, you were more naïve than most, but he didn't need to be rude about it!

Eric looks back once more, and shares a look with his cousin before the three of you continue to walk. Getting ever closer to the clearing the blond Canadian had been raving about.

Getting closer to the place you'd chosen for the ritual.

You gulp as you reach the clearing, taking a moment to collect yourself and avoid looking into the treelines, especially as the sky rapidly darkens. You don't want to see something you shouldn't, after all.

Derek grabs the box from his cousin's hands and sets it down gently on the ground beside the rucksack he’d thrown uncaringly in the leaves before adjusting his baseball cap. The redhead breathes in deeply, watching as his friend grabs a handful of straws of various lengths.

Eric scrunches his nose and nudges towards you. "We gotta see who's doin' it. Pick one." The half-canadian nudges to his closed fist, you nervously do so, pulling out a short, stubby straw.

Eric picks out a short straw, still longer than yours. Derek picks out the longest one, and subsequently starts grinning like a maniac. "Fuck yeah!" He whistles. "Oh Jeez....guess you're doing it, [Name]."

"Guess I am..." You pout, before blinking dumbly for a minute. "Wait, what am I doing'?"

Derek and Eric grin to each other with identical smiles before turning to face you. "The main part of the ritual." They say, before the Canadian gestures to the box.

The ginger grins wider, taking off his chicago cubs baseball cap and setting it down, revealling orange toned hair underneath. "But not yet! We gotta set up the summoning circle first!"

You bite your lip. "Are you guys sure this is a good idea?” You ask, eyeing Eric as he starts to copy out a summoning circle from the frayed, ancient looking spellbook.

Derek nods ambitiously. “Hell yeah. What could go wrong? Worst case scenario nothin’ happens and it’s all a hoax. Best case scenario, we summon Satan, make pacts with him and get rich!”

Eric sticks his tongue out in concentration. “Mhm… and don’t worry about havin’ to sell your soul. That’s where the box comes in handy.”

You shiver. Wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to keep warm as you and Derek watch as the blond finishes the summoning circle and places black candles down at integral points of the inner star.

The Canadian claps the chalk off of his hands, as Derek takes out the deck chair from the large rucksack and unfolds it, setting it in the middle of the circle. you and begin lighting the candles,he grabs an expensive looking ceremonial dagger from his backpack. When he notices you staring he smirks. “Got it from Ebay for 20 dollars. Now lets get started!”

Derek grins before the three of you stand over the book he’d just placed in the very middle of the summoning circle, placed on the foldable garden chair serving as an altar.

Your trio chant in Latin, reading out the words on the page of the book. The light breeze stops dead.

“Ready, [Name]?” Eric smiles, holding the dagger up as you nod offering your hand.

“Make it quick.” You look away. Face scrunched up in pain as the boy draws blood, you hiss in agony as he moves onto Derek and then himself.

The three of you let your blood drip onto the ground in the middle of the summoning circle as you invoke the Avatar of Wrath once more.

All the while being unaware of the emerald green eyes watching you from the shadows of the treeline.

After a few repetitions, Derek turns to you, gestering to the dagger. “You picked the shortest straw. You’re up, MC.”

“What do I do with it?” You tilt your head as you shakily grab the dagger. Growing more and more uncomfortable with the uncanny smiles your friends are sporting.

They hand you the cardboard box. “Open it.” Eric whispers.

You do.

Inside you find a small black kitten barely the size of your hand sleeping peacefully. A small pink ribbon as her makeshift collar. Unable to stop yourself, you reach out to shakily pet her. Derek grabs her. She meows as she’s woken up. The redhead hands you the kitten in your free arm.

“Pet store said her name was Inky.” Eric hums as she cuddles into your tanktop, looking for warmth.

You don’t miss the sinister glint in their eyes, yet you do miss the figure in the darkness growing larger, more demonic as he senses what’s about to happen to the kitten before you do.

You feel a sinking feeling in your gut even before Derek orders you in a dark tone. “Say the words in the book. Slit its throat.”

You gulp shakily, as you begin to chant, the wound on your hand aching and beginning to glow green and you swear you can hear a demonic growling sound from the treeline.

You finish chanting, tears welling up in your eyes as you slowly lift the dagger up, preparing to do the unthinkable.

The sky darkens, thunder sounds, a sinister fog begins to form around the ritual circle, reflecting in the pure evil of Derek and Eric’s shared expression.

Satan, who had been watching in the shadows as soon as the ritual began, growls in pure rage. A mere second away from stepping into the circle and gutting the three of you.

You blink away your tears, about the drag the dagger down into the kittens throat, before you meet her tiny amber eyes and she lets out the most pitiful meow. No doubt wanting food.

You break. Throwing the weapon on the ground and breaking off in a sprint. Rushing into the dense woods still cradling the poor kitten as your former friends make chase close behind you.

You wince as branches catch on your skin and leaving you with scratch marks all over. You don’t stop running though, especially after you hear the dagger being thrown at a tree right next to you.

Satan pauses. Shocked out of his growling as he stalks you from the shadows. A small, crooked smile spreads on his face as he watches you make your escape, defenseless kitten in hand.

You manage to get out of view and reach of Derek and Eric as you duck behind a log to catch your breath. Hearing the Canadian shout to his cousin from Illinois to ‘just leave it’ and ‘continue the ritual without the stupid cat’

Derek shouts exploitatives before agreeing and yelling into the woods. “You fucking bitch!- When I find you, [Name]-You’re fucking dead!-”

You hold your breath as their voices grow quieter and quieter. Petting Inky to steel your nerves you peek out and see no one.

Deciding to make your escape you slowly get out, walking dumbly like a baby deer as you slowly trudge further away from where you came.

Satan had been doing nothing in particular before having felt his name being provoked. He sighed, never getting a lot of downtime during Halloween thanks to idiots in the Human Realm summoning him day in and day out.

Allowing himself to be teleported to the area of the ritual. He stalked in the shadows of the treeline, noticing three young adults in the middle of the clearing chanting.

He watched. Prowling around the shadows, rage radiating from him as he hears the meowing of a cat and sees the third of the trio raise a dagger. Yet still, he watches.

His eyes grow green. Already in his demon form, his claws protract. Ready to maul those motherfuckers.

Only to stop when you throw the dagger and make a run for it. Rage simmering down to slight surprise, claws retracting.

You were a smart one, your friends, however, were not. He'd have to find you later, but for now; he stayed in the shadows, waiting, watching as the two boys continue the ritual without the cat they had planned to slaughter.

The ginger, Derek, begins once more, chanting in Latin as he reads from the book, Eric joins in, before a lightbulb goes off into his head.

The Canadian opens his phone and selects a photo of you, placing it on the ground in the centre of the ritual circle.

"A-ave Satanas! This is our sacrifice to you, [Name] [Last Name]!" Eric shouts into the forest, no doubt wanting you to hear in an attempt to punish you for ruining the ritual.

Satan raises an eyebrow. So that was your name? Interesting.

Still in demon form; he steps out of the shadows, revealling himself to the two boys.

He smirks at their shocked gasps, watching in amusement as they scramble to the book, trying to figure out what to do next.

"Where's the cat?" Is all Satan asks.

"T-that bitch-" Derek points to the photo of you on the ground. "She fuckin' ran off with it. Sorry Lord S-Satan....we were tryna sacrifice it for you.-"

Eric nods desperately in agreement.

Satan smirks, "Well then...I suppose I should reward my loyal followers." He says charmingly as his eyes glow a feral green and his claws protract once more.

He'd hang them by their entrails.

No one fucks with cats. Especially not on his watch.

You whimper in the dark woods, shakily bringing your phone out with one hand to use as a flashlight. It was colder now. Inky clung to you for warmth as you did the same to her and held the kitten tighter with one arm.

Having ran blindly from the clearing in random directions, it was safe to say you were lost.

"It's okay buddy…." You whisper to the kitten, whimpering when you hear the tortured screaming of your two friends.

The ritual must've worked.

Like a prey animal, you hunker down behind some bushes just in case. Turning off your phone light, you cradled Inky in your arms and clench your eyes shut in fear, trying not to listen to the screeching and pleading of your former friends.

Tears roll down your cheeks, although you couldn't tell if it was from grieving, anger or fear. Most likely the latter two.

You wait and wait, staying completely still in the dirt, uncaring of the staining in your clothes that would result of it. Leaves rustled softly with your breathing, as you tried to focus on the rise and fall of your chest instead of the nightmarish sounds from God knows how far away.

It keeps going, until it stops, leaving behind it a thick, deathly silence. You hold back a whimper, still much too scared to move, frozen in fear.

Your hair stands on end as a crunching of autumn leaves sounds. Footsteps approach you calmly.

You hold you breath, begging and praying to whatever ancient power out there that whatever that thing was that'd killed your friends wouldn't murder you too. That it would somehow miss your hiding spot.

It was truly a shame for you that the only ancient power in your vicinity was Satan himself.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. :)

To which he did. The footsteps get closer, before stopping at the bush you were hiding behind. You bite your lip to keep yourself from whimpering.

You hear a chuckle sound from the darkness, as you will yourself to open your eyes you see a man, as if by magic, he's in front of you.

You hadn't heard him move from the time it took him to approach you from behind.

Strange.

"You don't need to be scared." The handsome man smiles charmingly. He's not much older than you by the looks of it. "[Name], right?"

You nod dumbly, holding Inky as your emotional support. How did this man know your name? Was he stalking you?

He nods to the kitten in your arms, "Cute cat. Mind if I pet her?"

"Sure….Y-yeah that's fine…." You stiffen as his hand reaches towards you, but relax slightly as the man seems gentle with cats. Everyone knows men who are good with cats can be trusted, right? Inky seems to like him.

"Hmm…..you okay?" The blond man asks kindly. His emerald eyes glow an otherworldly green.

"….I'm lost…." You admit, rather tired from the whole idea.

"I see. Well I could always help you get out. I know these woods quite well…."

"Really? You don't sound like you're from here….." You say softly, finding your voice. Maybe you were too naïve and trusting, but nevertheless, you grab his outstretched hand and laugh a little as he shakes it.

You grin, having calmed your nerves slightly. Unknowing that you've just made a deal with the devil.

He helps you up and you begin to walk through the trees, still holding onto Inky. The man coos at her every now and again and the cat preens under his soft gaze.

You walk in a relatively comfortable silence, with the blond asking you questions here and there, and you answering and asking them back.

Realistically you should still be shaking and crying and traumatised. You'd just heard your two former best friends be murdered. Yet, some dark twisted part inside of you whispers that they were doomed the moment they drew that circle and took out that cat.

It scared you that you couldn't bring yourself to care.

"So what about you…? Do you have any siblings?" You ask quietly, as you both use your phones as flashlights through the woods. You don't feel as much like a headless chicken anymore.

"Yep." He smiles. "Six brothers. I'm the fourth oldest."

"Holy shit."

"Nothing holy about it, in my opinion." He laughs, it's contagious. You can't help but let out a chuckle.

"You're quite interesting, [Name]. Smart too. " The familiar stranger hums. "I like that."

You grin, laughing as humility coats your voice. " Oh really....I don't think I'm that smart....."

The handsome man's eye's glow with something for a second as his eyes fix on the kitten safe in your arms. "You should give yourself more credit, [Name], you've made better decisions than you would even believe tonight."

"....Thanks?" You tilt your head slightly. The Devil himself just hums softly in response as the two of you fall back into the rhythm of a comfortable silence, with you leading the way to your home as you got to the main road once more. It doesn't take long before the three of you reach it.

As you reach your home, the blond sees you and your newly acquired kitten to your door. You give him a small smile. "Well this is me...."

He nods, before grabbing your free hand, and speaking a phrase in Latin you almost recognise as he meets your gaze with a glowing green one of his own. He kisses your hand and grins as ink like emeralds form on your skin like a tattoo, swirling and dancing until they find purchase around your wrist in a symbol not unlike the ones in the summoning circle.

Your breath hitches. "Y-you're..."

The demon grins. "I'm Satan, yes." He replies, admiring the pact mark now on your hand. "And you might be one of my favourite devotees."

"....You're not gonna kill me...?" You ask in a small voice, clutching Inky as you open the door you had stupidly forgotten to lock before you went out.

The Avatar of Wrath only laughs in response, a soft look overriding his facial expression. "If I wanted to kill you I would've done so in the woods. Besides. You weren't stupid....like the other imbeciles who try to summon me." He reaches over to pet Inky once more, something he's done a lot within the short space of time you've gotten to know him.

"Huh?" You voice out your confusion, and he grins up at you. For the supposed Avatar of Wrath, he sure is charming. It was easy to trust him.

"Well...most people- actually every group or person who tries to summon me around Halloween time...sometimes even witches but especially inexperienced humans like you and your....friends...always make the fatal mistake of sacrificing cats during the ritual...." His eyes narrow as he thinks about it. A murderous expression creeps onto his face and a deathly aura surrounds him as you realise why he's named the Avatar of Wrath.

Satan takes a deep breath and continues. "But you didn't....I can appreciate and trust someone like you."

You nod, wondering what parenting mistakes your parents made that could've made you attracted to a literal Lord of Hell as you feel your cheeks heat up. "Do you wanna come inside for a bit?"

The corners of his lips twitch, "I'd love to...but Halloween is a busy time for me....summonings and all.....could I come back tomorrow?"

You nod. "Bring some treats for Inky?" You ask light-heartedly.

"Oh of course." He smiles, waving goodbye as you trek inside your home, placing the kitten down gently on the entrance mat of your hall.

"Well....bye for now, Satan..." You nod, at the now not so enigmatic stranger, he gives you another kiss on the back of your hand.

"Goodnight, [Name]." He says before slowly closing the door for you.

He'd come visit you again, after all, he had accepted your ritual and given you his pact mark. As the blond demon thinks to himself whilst traversing to yet another ritual preformed by stupid young adults abusing cats who were about to get mauled, he comes to the realisation that Lucifer said no to cats in the house. but he never said anything about a human and that said human's cat. ;)

🎃🦇samhain shona daoibh 🎃🦇

if you cant tell ive watched a lot of horror movies recently and made the ritual very not very realistic-ified for the sake of dramatic devices gng. (unrelated but im too scared to watch the exorcist)😔✊

real ones realised i reused derek wisconsin and eric vancouver from my summertime shennanigans fic. i am aware the names are horrible that's why i chose them.

can we all appreciate the fact i churned this out in like two days pretty please (oh the joys of getting 8 hours of sleep every night and being off school and not completely exhausted.)

no irish in this post bc halloween is irish enough anyways yipeeee!

anyways 😈

i made a poll yesterday asking if i should give you stinkers (said lovingly) a name like im some 2019 youtuber with a bunch of fans because i yearn for the silliness and nearly everyone said yes so yipeeee! also i need ideas or else you're being called péisteanna or something equally as stupid 😈

[shysuccubusstuff]

day 10: Masturbation + Oral receiving + Overstimulation + Breeding kink - lovesick! Gepard.

Content: Masturbation + Oral receiving + Overstimulation + Breeding kink - lovesick! Gepard; Being both of you from the high society of Belobog, it was almost obvious how your families would end up creating an arranged marriage between the two young heirs. What they didn’t expect was that both of you would end up falling in love even before the actual marriage took place.

Word count: 1185.

Note: Sorry if this one comes out as rushed or bland, it's my first time writing about orals + masturbating :( Let me know if you have any suggestion for the next days!

You and Gepard had been barely able to meet for the past weeks. It was a strange situation, as every time Gepard was finally free from work it was actually you who was running from side to side in order to attend as many social gatherings as possible. It had been over two months by the time both of you were finally able to see each other face to face. Both of you waited patiently until every servant left the room, your hands behind your back as a poor attempt to not show how much you had missed each other. Of course, this poor façade was quickly melted away as soon as Gepard came running to you like a lost puppy.

He fell to his knees, the hard blow against the cold marble echoing through the room, then the silence was instantly filled with the soft sound of his whimpers. Worried, you took his face, fat tears running down his face as he let you caress his face.

“What’s wrong, dear? Did you get hurt anywhere during the battles?” You worried face almost made him cry even louder, but he chose to simply nuzzle against the soft material of your velvety gloves.

“I just missed you like crazy… It’s been over a month since we last saw each other and you looked so pretty when I entered the room… I’m sorry.” Gepard kissed the palm of your hands, suddenly moving in order to embrace your lower half. Your face was about to explode, still being unable to get used to the extreme worship Gepard did to you.

“I… I missed you too, I’m just a bit nervous since we haven’t seen each other that much, you know?”  You pulled him away from your hands, his gaze obscuring, a strange feeling glowing within them. Without saying much, he got up from the floor, his face a bit puffy from crying.

“I understand, I must have forced you into a difficult position.” Gepard bowed, kissing your gloved hand before opening both doors. He looked back for a second, but he soon left without saying much else.

A whole week had passed before you were finally able to catch a glimpse of the blond hair of Gepard. Or well… perhaps it wasn’t the best moment to see him. It was just an accident, of course, it was definitely NOT your fault that just as you were about to open the door to your room, you were able to hear the soft moans coming from inside. You were already preparing yourself for the worst-case scenario, but you were soon surprised as you tried to look from the small gap between the door and the frame.

Gepard was sitting on his bed, the dim light of the nightstand barely showing his face. He looked completely serious except for how he kept biting his lip as a poor attempt to avoid his moans to slip out. This was of course not that useful, as you were still able to hear him as he kept mumbling to himself.

“God… Just a bit more before I can… Gotta make sure I’m worthy of her…” His hand kept going up and down his shaft, and it wasn’t until he stopped for a few seconds when you finally realized something. Gepard was using your underwear to masturbate, in fact, he was rubbing his member against it.

Your face was just about to burst, but even despite the lustful view you were unable to pull your eyes away from his ragging erection. The tip was flushed with an angry red, several beads were falling from it, almost making your mouth feel somewhat thirsty.

“She’ll look so pretty all pregnant… I’m gonna knock her up as soon as we get married… I’ll be the best dad for them…” His hand kept on rubbing your underwear against his length, sometimes moving his free hand to cup against the tip of his member. You heard how he was letting a few whimpers out, he suddenly lifted his head, suddenly locking eyes between each other. You were clearly able to tell he had seen you, as both his face and ears flushed.

You thought he would stop at that point, but it seemed as if he only got even bolder. Gepard kept looking to that small gap in which you were barely able to see him, still massaging his member against your flimsy underwear.

“I bet you’re just as eager as I am my dear… Just a few more weeks before we can finally become husband and wife…” His voice sounded much softer than before, although his eyes were still just as clouded and darkened as before.

You were barely able to keep on looking, as a strange feeling had been building up since you had been able to catch him. Soon, one of your hands moved to your chest, while the other moved towards your lower half, slowly rubbing that sensitive place over your clothes.

“My pretty wife is so naughty… playing alone by herself while watching her husband masturbate to her clothes… Wish I could just take you and fill that pretty cunt with my cum… Just wait a few weeks, gotta make sure we have a heir, right? Still, I would love to just keep on filling my sweet wife…” Gepard got close to you, opening the door and now being able to see you whole. A lustful smile spread through his face, and despite his hands got dangerously close to your face, he stopped himself before doing anything harsh. You could easily tell that he had been edging himself for a while, perhaps with the small hope of getting caught by you.

“Can I…?” Gepard whispered, his voice sounding even deeper than usual as he rubbed his length just a few inches away from your face. The view was almost hypnotizing, as he kept a steady rhythm. Without saying much, you opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue as a kind of invitation.

Gepard thoughtlessly took your face, letting go of your underwear and slowly introducing the tip of his length inside your warm mouth.

“Fuck… you feel so nice around me, dear. I just can’t wait for us to become one…” He stared into your eyes, his pupils almost forming two hearts from the amount of love you could feel radiating from him. “Open wide, sweetheart… I have to make sure not a single drop goes to waste.” And you did just as he told, opening wide for him as his hot cum filled your mouth, almost causing you to choke on it. Gepard sluggishly got away, his cold hand caressing your hair with pure adoration. “I hope that suffices for now, dear. Just a few more weeks and we’ll be married.”

[gwandas]

Like I can’t be on board with HL of Dusk Nesta or High Queen Nesta and I barely believe she’ll get to keep Gwydion like I just have to assume the next book she’s getting pregnant and sidelined

I have to be cynical about Nesta’s future otherwise I’ll go insane when she inevitably takes another L

[kannawandering]

been getting into turning these days... (6)

In the chapter like 603? 604? Anyway. Yuder's heat is #approaching. #scary. but I found it was a good time to talk about the omegaverse.

(I'm not used to omegaverse settings and trying to make sense of what I understood. Bear with me.)

One thing that I find pretty insane about the way the omegaverse is set up in Turning (outside of the fact that it's completely new to their world) gotta be the second gender manifestation.

Because what do you mean it can happen at literally any point or moment in your life without warning signs as long as you're an Awakener???

It also depends on absolutely NOTHING at all...?? Can happen at the exact moment you awakened or several years after???

You just starting having these fevers and:

if you're lucky you'll kind of know in advance because of awakeners around you guessing that you have this odd fevers these days, and can prepare for it.. (pretty cavalry exclusive) (you are God's favourite) Sick for a while and good to go! Awesome life!

If you're unlucky, the manifestation js kinda happens randomly in a day of your life, no warning signs, and you're cooked...?? Can be worse if it was a big occasion. You could be just baking a cake or in the middle of a life-defining fight. The Red Stone's powers don't discriminate. Fuck you I guess. I hope your boss won't fire you for missing 1 week of work without any prior notice.

If you're even more unlucky and you're one of the people who don't get this passive fever over 1 week but one of the people who go through all the changes and pain in 2-3 days, fuck you too I guess? You randomly feel violently sick, find yourself in unbearable amounts of pain and since it kinda happens anytime you could be alone, in the middle of the nowhere bc you went to pick up herbs for your dinner soup. Like this was totally needed.

You could also be one of the 1st people who ever got their secondary gender and you knew even less than people do now, so you just feel insanely ill, and you don't really know why?? Are you gonna die from some new, unknown illness nobody can save you from??? Not really. But how can you know that? Don't worry, though! It can, in fact, get worse if points 2 and 3 are added in. Y'all also get fucked.

Think about Kishiar's second gender manifestation where he tried to straight up commit (well he didn't actually do it and discovered that he is actually the Chosen One™ (by the Sword of Orr) in the process. All's well and ends well I guess.) While his circumstances were specific, many other Awakeners must have thought these were their last days too 😭

There's even more specific, worst-case scenarios like... honestly, Yuder's 1st second gender manifestation. It felt like someone up there had this massive, personal beef with him and js set him up to be in the worst possible situation bc fuck that guy too I guess. what the hell.

This is way longer than anticipated.

[midnight--sadness]

had an idea—early 2010 games, like 2012/2013. gi-hun is VERY newly postpartum and looking for ways to make any money for his baby. in-ho doesn’t really give a shit about anything and is just looking for a semi-honorable way to die bc of the death of his last mate or some other circumstance.

I think it would actually be really interesting for in-ho’s character especially, because we know he’s very sensitive to things like pregnancy and children. I think it would be sick to see how he would react to postpartum stuff, especially considering he never actually got to live through it. The development of him going borderline suicidal to “I have to protect you, no matter what.” wondering how he would react to gi-hun’s postpartum heavy bleeding, difficulty walking/being physically active, etc.

I had this really vivid idea of gi-hun being insistent he can’t let his milk dry up, because if they do vote to get out and he leaves with nothing, he won’t be able to afford formula. Idk just. The thought of gi-hun in the bathroom w in-ho rubbing his back/holding his hand while he has to waste everything into the toilet or paper towels because the pressure gets to be too painful. (I thought abt in-ho “assisting”, i says horny-ly, but i think it would take away from the narrative)

so basically it would leave in-ho w/ very difficult decisions like

a) gotta kill a shitton of people to make sure everyone votes out so gi-hun can get away

b) kill a lot of people to ensure him winning, at the expense of his own life (which is worst case scenario for him, bc he LOVES milky bbygirl and wants to stay with him/care for him on the outside)

c) idk some other scenarios I haven’t thought of. asking to hear other perspectives/thoughts

note: gi-hun’s baby wouldn’t be in-ho’s, would be some jackass alpha’s who abandoned him w/ it because he was in debt or couldn’t accept responsibility. Another motivator for in-hun, he’s got a vendetta against the mf for essentially forcing baby mama gi-hun into dying to save his own baby—basically same thing that happened to in-ho’s wife different flavor

ooohhhhh i love this!!

i'm assuming that gihun's baby would be gayeong.

in this case, maybe inho signed up for the games but before he could actually be picked up and taken to the island, his wife and child both died. and now he kinda has to go to the games anyway since he cant pull out (lol), maybe even to repay the money that he was given by that unknown criminal.

so there they are, an alpha grieving his mate and child and a newly postpartum omega.... the possiblities are so delicious!!

i like to think that the first game is always red light, green light because it eliminates a large ammount of players (kind of like the cornucopia bloodbath in the hunger games). so, inho is there, considering not even making his way across the field when gihun's scent reaches him. he smells sweet, like honey and milk, clearly a new mother and inho's alpha instincts immediately put him on alert. maybe he is especially sensitive since his body was preparing to be a father and he needed to immediately pick up the scent of his new pup (or whatever idk). and he sees how gihun is moving, hand clasped to his belly, still sore from birth and thinks "i need to protect him".

gihun basically becomes the reason inho actually tries to survive the games. taking care of him calms inho down, makes him "docile" in a sense, and even when gihun is stressed and on the verge of a breakdown bc it isnt normal for omegas to be separated from their babies so soon after birth, inho helps him relax, telling him that he will do anything to get gihun to see his baby again and gihun, our sweet girl, says that inho has to get out alive as well so he can meet gayeong.

inho has no issues with killing other players if necessary, doing anything to ensure gihun leaves during the next vote. but as the money piles up people get greedier and not even their lives are worth much....

if they stay for most of the games, i can see inho helping gihun with his milk is a more traditional way, since breastfeeding helps the uterus contract and lowers general pains and aches in the body. it would kinda relax inho as well, since helping this omega would make his alpha hindebrain feel proud to be useful.

when they get out, both richer than ever, gihun introduces inho to gayeong (who had been staying with his mother). gihun and inho bond and inho becomes gayeong's new father and like two years later he gets gihun pregnant with twins 🫶🫶

[gloomyteddybear]

crazy all-over & for you

oneshot

cw/tw: vague-ass spoilers for twin peaks; creepy fluff; danny's very delulu; some allusion to kidnapping but it does sound more like trapping (staying under coersion/ obligation/ dependency, not necessarily the baby-type); good ol' referenced child abuse (thanks johnson-senior); matricidal ideation (but you kill eachother, idek how to tag this shit)

can be read as a sequel to 'vulture.

when you become a writer or an avid watcher, you begin to take notice of patterns, tropes they're called. repetitions of behavior that makes up a character's personality, you know them at a glance and your immersion is ruined; eventually due to them, your taste begins to change towards the unpredictable. you want something more real, more marking, more scarring, more... if you want it done right, do it yourself.

danny lost his immersion in life. during his many years limping on earth, each life-lesson hammered in the teachings of his father.

teachings-rants that sounded like it described someone, that talked about people, about relationships, about loyalty, about fear, about respect, about trust, --- about consequences for breaking that trust.

'people are... you can't trust people to stay. you gotta tie them down, give them a damn good reason not to leave.' he slurred, his sour breath stank of fermented and stale bread, clutching tiny-him by the shoulder to look'im in the eye. ('just like you give them something to cry about' went unsaid)

if he were to describe his father in movie tropes, it'd be the crazy homeless man who was right all along. sounds harsh, but it's true. raving about the war, being watched, communists, trees and (his phobia of) spiders.

he learned everything from him, he was thoughtful as a father, always preparing him for the worst case scenario so he didn't need to worry too much while making contingencies for unaccounted variables.

a slap against the back of his head (it hurt, always made him cry when he was younger, but kid-him knew he held back) always reminded him to never let anyone sneak up behind, watch his surroundings.

he was his father, who did dad things like making sure his room's not clean (perfectly horizontal pennies), got food on the table (always canned), kept the house clean (the stomach-acid smell of white vinegar) and safe (gun safety, tourniquets, traps)...

gave him... affection (the heavy shoulder pat when danny finally got that deer) and told him bedtime stories, even though he grew too old for them (gunfire, the fading light in their eyes, shells-hock).

sure, danny hid under his blankets like a spider's cocoon and pretended to sleep when he was drunk (suffocating safety), but... he truly tried raising (a soldier) him.

his role in that relationship is stoic, patient and efficient. but you... 

you didn’t know him by his real name– only as meek, weak, jed olsen--- you were... too... (minds eye picturing himself gesturing weakly with his hands to all of you) too you for danny, out of his league. but this man he pretended to be, meek but earnest, maybe he has a shot--- sure his typecasting was off (gaunt, grey, gangly and definitely not giddy) in his role as jed the only thing that salvaged his performance was his acting.

he couldn't reduce to just a love interest... it was... as if you were real. not a character unlike these... figurants--- these extras.

you warranted softness, normalcy, something he learned when comparing his childhood to others- he never had. you wanted a movie date (more like you were appalled that he never watched twin peaks, and wanted to amend that. but a man can dream) and he could never say no to you.

so danny has to make sure jed's house is clean. which includes... removing the evidence and preening himself 'til he looks presentable to his... (not a date, not a date, not a) series-binge-hangout-slash-maybe-comma-hopefully-sleepover.

danny grabs the collage of pictures on his wall and throws them into a shoebox beneath his bed (worst case scenario he'll say it's a sex-toy box, and lose more of his pride in the process) he feels kind of bad, like a parent boxing his kid's toys for a garage sale after they went away for college (not like he'd know what that's like, on neither end), he locks his bedroom for extra precaution.

now onto the... situation at hand... well, the ghostface's killings were described as messy crimes of passion, it's not going to be clean. it's not like he uses that sink to brush his teeth, anyway (it's broken to only use cold-freezing water, it's practically fate). it's not like the sink has visible traces of blood (it dries dark enough to look like usual inescapable grime) but-what-if you wanted to use the restroom and got sick?!

bleach, his father taught him, is just chemical white-out. he bets his father never thought he would use his knowledge of skinning deer for--- well maybe he did. gloves and a mask, disposable. his first bought-instead-of-handed-down sweater still has that pink-salmon-flesh spot.

danny uses mint air freshener this time, still have the same (spider) smell-of-crime warding-off properties of white-vinegar without the gag-inducing smell.

you shave-and-a-haircut-two-bits knock on his door. speak of the devil, but you weren't a devil, and he wished you'd appear as often as he thought of you. you smile at him, a hand holding what he assumes is the tape you brought.

danny keeps a hand on the door and stares as you enter, and closes it for you--- cushioning the doorknob behind him with both hands, he rocks backwards on his heels and plants his weight on the door until there's a 'click'. shoulders pressed against the wood as an anchor. trying to project playful, not predatory.

---him following soon after, he smiles. you smile back waving the tape in your hand. the ecstasy of having your eyes on his, it's a combination deadlier than any drug. he'd kill for one look, he'd die for one glance.

(4 weeks and 5 days of knowing him, you were so trusting its as if you wanted him to---)

"ready to create a conspiracy board? i'll even tell you if you're getting warmer," you smirk, all teasing "but for now, get us the snacks, henchman! don't want you to get spoiled for the plotwist."

jed made a mock "sure thing, boss." with one of those smiles he knew made his employers give him less work and spun on his heel to grab them (wasn't hard to, his pantries are practically for cobwebs). danny splurged a bit from his okay-ish paycheck, is it sad that this is the only indulgent thing he bought (aside from the hobby items) and it wasn't even for himself?

danny arrives, with the colorful packaging in his arms. all your favorites--- a coincidence that he also likes them (you two have so much in common it's like fate).

he sits beside you on the couch and you swing your legs over his lap, using him as a foot-rest when there's a perfectly available coffee table, oh-well. danny's not complaining. but jed does make a half-attempted whine-complain at the treatment.

you keep a close eye on his expressions, as jed plays up some of his reactions, not even paying attention to the show. the knowing smiles you had whenever anyone cried during the show, the dissecting gaze as you watch him just like he watched the show... it looked...his fingers twitched and he dismays at the lack of camera.

then, danny feels the weight on the couch dip and your neck is resting-bending uncomfortably on the arm-rest.

you're sleeping.

he resists to keep watching the series without your supervision (see? he has impulse control), and ejects the tape, keeping a mental-note of the hour-tally (a few episodes subtracted, for more time with you.)

danny stares, you looked so peaceful, untouched by the ghostface's reign of terror. this was where you belonged, in his... under...no, at his mercy.

he reached out a hand and trailed the delicate lines of your neck, he could just crack-snap your neck and get it over with... but it needs to be special, not just one-and-done murder, there has to be a build-up, some meaning for you, because this means so much to him. you have this stabbing grasp on danny and he wants to make sure that the feelings are mutual--- it needs to be mutual, its only good if your hands are also on his vulnerable throat. the only way you'll be allowed to die is by his hands and him, yours.

you both, at the same time. you will become his legacy and he will become yours, your deaths intertwined like veins of the same pulse. that's something to put on the headlines, a romeo of juliet but on-with purpose--- not due to some stupid misunderstanding but a mutual death.

you made your choice when you came here, you had to know what you were getting into, the newbie in town when, coincidentally, the murders began and he just-so-happens to be there to report ghostface's every move--- like a demented slasher-parody of peter parker. because you wouldn't be here if you...

if you... what if you didn't. you were only there because you didn't know. if you did, then you're danny's; if you didn't, then you're jed's.

that can't be. there's a narrative, a storyline, a fate. you were fated to be. you and danny. forever. 

he's had a taste of what it feels to have you in his life, and it feels like---love a-and... it's like you wanted him t-to...  (obsess, desire, envy, bleed).

--- and, and now he just can't let that feeling go. can't let you go, if you're not staying for danny, he'll just... tie you down and give you a damn good reason to stay.

[numberonebidoofenjoyer]

OFF SCREEN POST: 寒冷

content warnings: traumatic flashbacks, general horror, minor derealization(? possibly). you have been warned.

——————————————————————————

Wet, soggy boots echoed throughout the cave, followed by the sound of prideful stomps and the crackle of electricity.

Roto lit up, screen illuminating the dark cavern as Lochland looked around with a squint. Familiarity bubbled in the back of his mind, though he couldn’t exactly place where. It didn’t matter though- what mattered was finding what he was looking for.

“Nightmare!” The Poké Ball opened, Gengar’s shadowy form blending in perfectly, almost to the point the trio couldn’t see him. “Stay close to Fangs. I want to see if there are any Dunsparce in this cavern.”

Roto’s phone screen changed to the Pokédex entry, as Lochland dug into his bag. Traveling with Professor Rowan had long since prepared him for the worst case scenarios, a lesson he was glad the older man had imparted on him. He strapped the headlight to his forehead, clicking the glass to turn it on. Beams of light shun, scaring the Salandit and Yungoos that dared get in its way. The trainer heard Fangs snort, and Gengar mischievous grin as the Pokémon spread out.

“…Are you sure about this, bzzt?” Roto whispered. “Something feels…off.”

Lochland froze a bit. He felt his lungs expand and tighten as he breathed and felt around him. Other than the Pokémon that had scattered a second ago, it was hauntingly quiet.

“…That’s…” He clicked his teeth. “…It’s nothing. They’re properly scared of the light.” Lochland slung over his bad, trying not to show fear. His hands gripped the straps. Clover seemed so disappointed over her texts, hunting so hard for one of her favorite Pokémon just because the boy got the directions wrong.

Determination filled his purple eyes, blue glinting over them. At once, he felt his nerves evaporate, the burning feeling in his chest that always came with the power blessed to him.

“I’m not stopping til we find one.”

Roto said nothing, but silently followed after its trainer when they began to search.

The more they ventured through, the more the cave started to feel…wrong. The silent drop of water was absent, home to so many Fire-types, but those Fire-types ,Ground-types, anything were nowhere to be seen. Not even any noises followed. They tried to keep close to the entrance but eventually, they had to go deeper.

“…We should’ve been attacked by now, bzzt.” Roto muttered, somehow capable to doing it. “This- something isn’t right.”

“This is the spot.” Lochland responded. “We’ve just….We’ve gotta go deeper.” Sweat began to trickle down his back and soak his head as he went deeper, the only light beginning to come from Roto and his helmet. Gravel crunched between their feet, pebbles sounding so close yet so far. Were the Pokémon watching them? It felt like it.

Darkness behgt to consume them, the boy feeling his heartbeat speed up. A cold, icy feeling rush through his body. Roto wasn’t saying anything anymore, its light not being enough.

Wasn't this cave two sized? Where the hell was the other side? Why was it so dark and cold? Why couldn’t he even hear Wild Pokémon?!

“…Fangs? Nightmare?!”

He turned around.

His heart sank.

“…Roto. Roto where’s the entrance?”

The Rotom froze. “Pardon?”

Lochland’s headlight had long since stopped leading them, stopped showed them the light- a way to go. Silence haunted them, surrounded by nothing but black, tricks on the eyes and the beat of your heart merging to create the terror that fills you.

Lochland tried to breathe. “It-An entire entrance and exit can’t just dissapear. W-What the heck…?”

“We need to head back, bzzt. We need to find Fangs and go.”

“Go where?!” Lochland turned, clutching his chest. “W-We-we can’t see.”

“Yes, we can, zzt. You have Rosa’s Poké Ball. Use it.”

“…Right.” He gulped. Lochland lifted his school blazer, trying to reach for the Poké Balls on his belt.

“…What the fuck.” He patted around his belt, his bag, where the Master Ball should at least be.

Nothing. His entire team had vanished.

“…Call someone.” Silence. “Roto?”

“I-I-“ The phone stuttered. “I have no signal.”

“What the fuck. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck-“ The trainer hyperventilates. “That-this- this was not here last time. This didn’t happen. What the hell?!”

He takes a step, almost nothing echoing back. “FANGS! NIGHTMARE! HELLO?!”

Silence answers.

“…W-We need to go, bzzt.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere- just- c’mon, stay close to me.” The phone gently tugged at his trainer, forcing him forward into the dark. Lochland tried to stop the shake of his hands, trying to force the will inside him to intensify. Yet, it felt harder, like he was forcing himself. The more he walked, the more light-headed he felt, step after step that didn’t even feel like rock anymore, a deadly, haunting quiet. Lochland walked and walked and walked, staying close to his longest and only companion.

They both called out the names of the Pokémon they sent. Nothing. Lochland’s head began to throb, breath becoming a wheeze. He felt so cold. Colder than in the winter, in the snow, on top of Mount Coronet, than the land filled with ice.

Eventually, he could walk no more, falling to his knees and hands as he panted.

“L-Lochland!” Roto knelt beside him. “Lochland, h-hang on, just breathe.”

His fingers felt numb, throat dry and hollow as he struggled for breath. It was so cold. Why was it so cold?

“Arceus- I- I can’t stay here anymore.” He gripped his head, the pain shooting down his spine. “F-fuck- this place is awful.”

“I-I know- just-juzzt….”

The sound of a phone clattering echoed next to him. He shot up, seeing static on the phone.

“ROTO?! ROTO!” He cradled the phone, tapping it uselessly to no avail. “Shit, shit, shit- c’mon, fuck!”

He shook, tears pricking his eyes. He no longer felt brave. He no longer felt strong, or determined. He just felt terrified, just like-

“This is where it ends for you, I suppose.” Armor clanked towards him as Mizūmi fought to keep his grip, the snow and blood trickling down his face, copper and salty tears blurring together. “Forgive me- but I cannot blindly put my faith in you anymore. You…you do understand, don’t you, Lochland?”

His head burned at the memory, like being roasted alive. He buried his hair through the nappy, curled hair on his head.

“G-get away…” He rasped, laying in the snow. He clutched the Dartix close to him, glaring down the Alpha with his life. “Get away!��

It let out a weird sound, the teeth of a Garchomp shining in the snow as its body jerked. Laughing, it dawned on him with dreading horror. It was laughing.

“Fuck- stop!” He slammed his fist into the ground. Why was it forcing him to remember these things? “Just shut UP!”

Wind flew from all directions, the portal revealing a creature covered in a sick, black ooze, that had no odor, had no sound as it fell to the floor. Red eyes made his body freeze, unable to turn to his companions as the man cackled manically.

Enough.

Lochland got up, tears streaming down out of his now blue eyes and down his face as he screamed. “FUCK OFF! SHOW YOURSELF YOU COWARD! STOP TORMENTING ME, AND HIDING! FIGHT ME!”

For a moment, nothing. The cave- no, not a cave- somewhere different. Wherever he was, nothing responded. He panted, holding Roto close. Maybe he had lost it. Maybe he had simply gone mad looking for Dunsparce. Was this what happened to Clover?

Then he felt the chill on his neck.

He turned.

And he screamed.

And he screamed,

And he screamed.

And he

And he

And he

And he

And he

And he

And he

And he

And he

And he

[wittyvitale]

The Belmont and the Speaker 1776 (A Castlevania Nocturne Fanfic)

Summary: The year is 1776 in Machecoul, France. Juste Belmont sees a bigot verbally assaulting a young Speaker woman holding a baby. He didn’t want to get involved, but his sense of familial duty is too strong. He intervenes and the Speaker woman is incredibly grateful. They have a conversation about Belmonts, Speakers, and the traumatic events that have shaped their lives. This is the story of how Juste Belmont and Tera first met.

CONTENT WARNINGS FOR BIGOTRY AND XENOPHOBIA. CANON-TYPICAL LANGUAGE

Author's Note: I wrote this in October 2024, and it's a more serious fic compared to the fluff I usually write. But there's still a smattering of fluff because I love fluff. And after watching season 2, I might be inspired to write a companion piece to this fic. Working Title is "The Belmont and the Sorceress 1792." We'll see what happens.

***

Tera walked through the streets of Machecoul, visiting the marketplaces and gathering fresh food for the week ahead. She carried the groceries in a bag on her back while her baby, Maria, was in a sling across her chest. They had already been out for a few hours, and Maria was starting to feel restless. She let her discomfort known by crying. Tera stopped walking and bounced the baby.

“What’s the matter, Masha?” Tera asked sweetly as she checked the basics. “You’re not hungry, and you’re clean. You’re probably tired since we’ve been away from home for so long. Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’ve gotten all the food we need and we’re going home now.”

Tera walked down the street while Maria continued to cry, causing passersby to give Tera dirty looks. Tera whispered words of comfort to her baby, trying to calm her.

“Hey! You!” a gruff voice called out. Tera came face-to-face with a disheveled, red-faced man. Tera held her baby against her protectively. “Shut that brat up, will you?!”

Tera paused, taken off-guard and not knowing what to say.

“Goddam foreigner, bet you can’t even understand what I’m saying!”

There it was. Tera had gotten used to the stares and prejudicial comments being spat at her since she’d arrived from Russia. But this was the first time it had happened since Maria was born.

Tera remembered her Speaker training and did a quick assessment of the situation; the man was obviously intoxicated. He wasn’t concealing a weapon, however his body language was threatening, looking like he could throw a punch at any moment. The thoroughfare was very crowded, and multiple people were staring now. Worst case scenario, she could use magic to defend herself. But she wanted to avoid that option if at all possible.

Tera took a step back from the man and composed herself. “I can understand you, sir. My baby’s just overtired, we’re leaving now.”

The man took a step towards Tera. “This is why we shouldn’t allow foreigners in this country. We don’t have enough to go around as it is. Now we gotta spend our hard-earned money on you and your mewling brat! You think that’s fair?”

Tera took another step back, holding Maria tighter. The baby could pick up on the hostile energy and wailed even louder.

“Christ if you won’t shut that kid up, I will!”

Now Tera had no choice. The man had threatened her baby. She held her hand up, preparing to use her magic so she could stun the man and escape.

“How about you fuck off?” a voice next to Tera growled. She saw a pair of hands push the man away from her. Tera looked beside her and saw an older man with long white hair and an unkempt beard. This stranger moved to stand in between Tera and her assailant.

“The fuck you think you’re talking to?” the belligerent man growled.

“The fucking asshole who has nothing better to do all day than harass young women and babies. Does that make you feel like a big man?”

“I’ll kick your ass, old man!”

The long-haired stranger stood taller, glaring at the man with piercing golden eyes. The man paused for a moment, feeling threatened for the first time since confronting Tera.

“You don’t stand a chance in Hell,” the stranger replied in a warning tone. He fingered the short sword that hung by his side. “I can beat the shit out of you in ways you can’t even imagine. But I don’t want to waste my energy. I want you to leave this woman and her child alone, and never bother them again.”

The drunken man swallowed, realizing that he couldn’t take this stranger on. In frustration, he spat at the stranger’s feet.

“I still say foreigners shouldn’t be in this country!” The man exclaimed before finally turning around and leaving.

The stranger exhaled in annoyance before turning his attention to Tera. She was still holding her baby tightly as she wailed.

“Are you all right, miss?” the stranger asked.

“I…” Tera started, still in shock over this turn of events.

“Please come with me,” the stranger requested. “I have a camp by the lakeside. It’s quiet and open, much safer for you and your little one.”

Although this new man had just rescued her, Tera still thought back to her Speaker training; the man had a weapon, but his body language was unthreatening. Plus he had come to her aid. Tera nodded, deciding to trust him. They both walked out of the busy street together.

***

As soon as Tera was in the open air, the relief was palpable. She took a deep breath and lessened the tight hold she had on her baby. Maria was feeling better too, her wails dying down to whimpers.

“I don’t know how I can possibly begin to thank you.” Tera said gratefully.

The man hummed. “Think nothing of it. The Belmonts are duty-bound to help Speakers. We’ve been on good terms for centuries.”

Tera’s eyes widened in recognition. “You’re a Belmont?”

“Not much of one, but yeah. You can call me Juste.”

“I’m indebted to you, Juste. My name is Tera, and this is my daughter Maria.”

Juste looked towards a simple camp by the lake. “Come. You can rest your feet and I can make you tea or coffee, whichever you’d prefer.”

***

Tera sipped a cup of tea while Maria began to drift off to sleep. She put the cup down and adjusted the baby in the sling.

“There we are. I knew it, you were just tired,” Tera crooned to Maria. “We’re safe now, my darling, you sleep as long as you want.”

Juste poked at the campfire with a stick. “I saw the way you positioned your hand out on the thoroughfare. You’re a Speaker Magician, aren’t you?”

Tera looked up from Maria. “I am. Though I prefer not to use magic in public if I can avoid it. Enough attention had been called to me as it was, the last thing I needed-“

“Was for the townspeople to accuse you of being a witch.” Juste finished.

Tera nodded and sighed. “Exactly.”

Juste hummed in understanding. “That asshole would have deserved it if you had been forced to use your magic. If I could still use magic, I would have lit his ass on fire.”

Tera was surprised. “You can use magic as well?”

“Could. The magic left me a long time ago.”

Juste looked down at the fire again, and it was the first time Tera got a good look at his face. There was a deep melancholy in his eyes, face lined with remnants of deep sorrow. He was a broken man who had seen far too many tragedies for one lifetime. Tera’s heart hurt for him, this man who had still decided to come to her aid although he was in great pain.

“One of my ancestors imbued the Belmont line with magic. I was told that I was the strongest magician since her.” Juste continued.

“Sypha Belnades-Belmont?” Tera asked.

Juste raised his eyebrows. “Ah, so the Speakers still pass down the story of Sypha?”

“Of course, all Speakers know about Sypha,” Tera started with a smile. “The story of Trevor Belmont and Sypha Belnades defeating Dracula is one of the first stories we’re told as children.”

For the first time since they met, Tera saw a small smirk from Juste. “Good to know the Speakers still hold that story with such reverence. It’s been a long time since I’ve spoken with any Speakers. Is your clan nearby?”

Tera felt a pang in her heart. “No, it’s… just me. Me and Maria against the world. We’ve settled here in Machecoul.”

Juste was surprised, but he hid it. “Your accent. Russian?”

Tera nodded.

“You’re far away from your homeland.”

Tera looked down at the fire sadly. “Yes. I am.”

Juste and Tera sat in companionable silence, listening to the crackling of the campfire.

“There were vampires,” Tera started, knowing that Juste would understand. “I lost my Speaker clan. My sister. I was forced to flee.”

Tera felt tears prickling at her eyes. Juste took a handkerchief out of his pocket and offered it to her.

“I’m sorry,” he started. “I know full well the damage vampires can cause. The physical and the emotional. The ways they can destroy families.”

Their conversation was interrupted when Maria woke up and started fussing. The baby mouthed at her mother’s breasts. Tera’s cheeks turned pink.

“She’s hungry, do you mind if I…” Tera started tentatively.

“If the kid’s hungry, she should eat.” Juste said matter-of-factly.

“Thank you,” Tera said gratefully, unbuttoning her blouse and discreetly breastfeeding. “I never know how people are going to react when I feed her. I’ve gotten glares in the past. But Maria’s still so young, I don’t want to deprive her of food when she’s hungry.”

Juste grunted in annoyance, upset that this was another thing the Speaker woman had to worry about. He looked at the mother and daughter pair; he could tell that Tera was a great mother who deeply loved her little girl. She was affectionate and attuned to her baby’s every need. Once upon a time, Juste would have been touched by the sight. Now, however, it brought back painful memories; of the wife he lost, of the daughter who wanted nothing to do with him. He tried to push these thoughts out of his mind, but they were persistent.

“I’ve a daughter around your age,” he started. “Grandson too. He’s a few years older than your girl. 3? 4? Can’t remember exactly. I haven’t seen either of them in years.”

Tera looked at him with interest. “Where are they now?”

Juste also figured that if anyone could understand his troubles, it would be a Speaker. Especially a Speaker who had lost her family to vampires.

“My daughter and grandson are out of the country. Over in what they call the ‘New World.’ Got word that there were vampires over there.” he started.

Tera looked at Juste with rapt attention. Juste recognized those eyes; the eyes of a Speaker who was listening closely to every word, as all Speakers do.

“My daughter and I… well, we’ve never had a good relationship,” Juste continued. “But after my wife was killed, my relationship with my daughter was pretty much nonexistent.”

“Your wife was killed?” Tera asked, sympathy in her voice.

Juste hummed in acknowledgment. “Killed by a vampire. She died in my arms.”

Tera put her hand over her mouth. “Oh Juste, I’m so sorry.”

Juste turned back to the fire, the flames reflecting in his eyes. “A part of me died with her that day. And Julia, that’s my daughter, could tell. We argued all the time. Before she left France, she tried to convince me to go with her. Said I needed to take the Belmont mission more seriously. But I just… I couldn’t bring myself to care. We had the worst fight we ever had that night. I said some horrible things to her. She told me she never wanted to see me again, and she took her baby across the ocean with her. We haven’t been in contact since.”

Tera looked down at Maria, who was still happily feeding. Tera brushed the baby’s bangs out of her eyes. She didn’t know how to reply, but Juste knew she was listening, knew that she was heartbroken for him.

“I apologize,” Juste said. “I’m sure you have enough to worry about. I didn’t mean to dump my troubles onto you.”

But Tera shook her head and smiled at Juste. “You forget, Juste, that I am a Speaker. We’re supposed to listen to people and provide aid and comfort.”

Juste snorted lightly. “Listening is one thing, but this old man is beyond aid and comfort. It’s just the way things are.”

“Can I at least try? It’s the least I can do after all the kindness you’ve shown me today.”

Juste eyed the woman and shrugged. “Why not.”

Tera looked up in thought before speaking. “You and I are similar in more ways than one. We’ve both suffered, we’ve lost loved ones who were dear to us. It would be so easy to give up hope. There have been so many times over the last few years where I almost gave into that despair. But I’ve thought about it, and realized that’s exactly what the vampires want me to do. They want me to lose hope. But I refuse to let them do it. They already took my family, I won’t let them take my hope too.”

Tera was interrupted again by Maria unlatching and belching loudly. Tera chuckled while she wiped Maria’s mouth. “I look at my little Maria, and I see so many possibilities for her future. So many dreams. So many hopes. I see the same for your grandson. We’re supposed to leave the world in a better place than we’ve found it for our children. We owe it to them to try our best to make the world worth living. That’s why I choose hope over despair.”

Juste mulled over Tera’s words and let out a tired sigh. “I appreciate the sentiment. Maybe if we had met 10 years ago, I would’ve have believed it. But I’m too old for hope now.”

“You’re never too old for hope,” Tera disagreed. “And you don’t just owe it to future generations, you owe it to yourself too, Juste. You’re a good man, despite what you might think, despite the words you said to your daughter out of anger. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have stepped in while I was in trouble today. That right there gives me hope. I wish one day you’ll recognize that too.”

Juste hummed again. He commended the woman for trying, but he didn’t believe any of it. He did for Tera and her daughter. He did for Julia and her son. But for himself? Not so much.

Tera smiled at him again, intuiting that Juste still wasn’t convinced. “Just take the time to think about it, Juste.”

Juste looked up from the fire and into Tera’s big green eyes. There was an earnestness in them, a genuine desire to help. He had to acknowledge her, even if he didn’t completely believe her.

“I’ll… try. Thank you, Tera,” he answered before looking at the setting sun. “It’s getting late. I can escort you home if you’d like.”

Tera stood up and Maria yawned again. She snuggled against her mother’s chest.

“Maria and I would definitely feel safer if we had a Belmont with us.” Tera said. She looked up in thought again and her eyes brightened. “Would you like to join us for dinner tonight?”

Juste hesitated. “I don’t want to impose.”

“You wouldn’t be imposing at all. Maria’s not eating solid food yet, so I have plenty to make another plate. And it’s been a while since I’ve cooked for somebody. It would be an honor to have you. Please, Juste?”

Juste poured a bucket of water over the campfire and kicked some dirt over it. He considered Tera’s offer. It had been a long-time since he had a home-cooked meal. Or had a meal with others. He’d been alone for a long time. Despite himself, he felt a longing for company. And this young Speaker was good company. Perhaps there was a reason why the Belmont and the Speaker met this day. Juste wasn’t ready to believe he was a good man, or hope that his life might get better. But he figured one “family” dinner wouldn’t hurt.

“Eh, why the hell not?”

***

End Notes: In the second episode of the original Castlevania series, Trevor Belmont sees Sypha's grandfather being harassed. At first Trevor tried to ignore it, but that Belmont sense of duty pushed him to intervene. That was some of the inspiration behind this fic. That scene focused on a Young Belmont and an Older Speaker while this fic focuses on an Older Belmont and a Young Speaker. I hope you enjoyed!

[cheemscakecat]

Refrigeration

A little fanfic about BLU Spy.

TW: BLU gets confronted about the pictures he took. And why he shouldn’t have been so causal about showing them to Scout

When becoming a mercenary, one had to prepare for the worst case scenarios. Failure, torture, death… death of a loved one. All things that Spy had spent years preparing and accounting for. But RED team still found ways to push the envelope.

It all started with the 1st battle against the nearly identical looking RED team after his nemesis stole their intelligence. And the pictures. Spy kicked himself for falling for the Scout disguise and showing the enemy Spy the pictures. Pictures of said Spy and the BLU Scout’s mother having sexual congress.

BLU Scout was far too outgoing, too trusting. And very annoying, once he got tired of Spy trying to give him a taste of reality. So, those photographs of his two-faced mother were indispensable. The perfect way to wise him up, and now they were gone, wasted. Soldier stupidly shot him, his own teammate in an attempt to out the RED.

The team’s intelligence? Taken by RED Spy. The evidence of Scout’s mother acting treacherously? Most likely destroyed, and now Spy had no recourse for proving the truth to the boy. And of course, the whole team was angry about a singular Spy crippling them and getting away.

But he could use that anger to his advantage. It didn’t take much convincing to get Pyro and Demoman on his side. For one thing, they had been the last two killed in battle, distracted when RED bolted out of base, Scout struggling to catch up. For another, Scout was Pyro’s best and only friend. If anyone would want payback for that Spy outrunning him, it would be the dragon.

—————————

They caught the RED Spy off guard. Together, Demoman’s bombs and Pyro’s fire incapacitated him. Spy watched his RED doppelgänger writhe with a satisfied smirk. Then he noticed the earpiece, which was now visible because fire had burnt a small hole in the Spy’s mask. He grunted an angry, desperate “NO!” as Jacques snatched the device. Demoman pressed his foot down on the RED’s belly to keep him from making any surprise attacks.

Spy heard a voice on the other end and slid the tiny microphone into his own ear, being careful not to reveal his face as he pulled up the mask. “Ay! I’m talking to you ******* , pick up!” It was RED Scout. Spy smugly turned towards his doppelgänger. “Alright! I’m not deaf! Just had to deal with those ****ed BLUs for a moment.” RED Spy gaped and wordlessly mouthed the word “No”.

Good. Now he knew how it felt. Even Pyro seemed to be holding back a hearty laugh. “We’ll hurry up and get to the control room. I ain’t waiting all day.” The RED -thoroughly beaten and helpless- struggled to free himself like he wasn’t going to respawn anyway. How stupid. “Don’t! You can’t-“ He pleaded. Spy merely aimed the revolver at his forehead and pulled the trigger.

He found the RED Scout slouching about near the control room. “Took ya long enough! Thought’ ya planned ahead!” Spy frowned. “It’s not my fault! Those BLUs were paranoid as Hell.” RED pursed his lips and glared like a spoiled child. “Whateva. I bet they’re halfway to the intel by now. We gotta get movin!” Spy tilted his head and jerked it towards the hallway.

Scout blinked at him incredulously. “Don’t change your plan now! Ya said you wanted to lead!” Curse that lousy RED Spy, he planned ahead. “I was just making sure you remembered. Keep your voice down boy, they could be here any minute.” Spy hissed urgently, pretending to be concerned. The Scout stared at him with an unreadable expression. “Well come on! You’re the impatient one.” He urged. The Scout put his hands in his pockets and meandered forward,

Spy didn’t like having the enemy behind him. It was supposed to be the other way around. He’d have to come up with a good reason to pull out his revolver. Maybe pretending a member of his team was-

Something heavy hit him square in the back of the head. His RED Spy disguise disappeared. **** it! He caught himself haphazardly before his head could hit the floor. Scout was just snapping out of his shock when he turned to face him. “I KNEW IT!” He roared. Jacques glared up at him and lunged with his knife, but the Scout easily dodged. He got smacked upside the head again with a red baseball bat. Scout must have pulled it out of his bag with an absurd lack of sound.

Before long the relentless RED Scout had pummeled Spy with the bat until he was unable to move. He was still awake though, which meant he could be taunted. Scout squatted down with a satisfied goonish grin. “Hard to stab a guy in the back when he’s beatin your fricken head in, huh?” Spy refused to respond to the man-child.

RED cocked his head to the side and sneered with disgust. “Our Spy’s a lotta things, but an idiot ain’t one of ‘um. Like Hell he’d call me boy.” Spy cursed himself in his head. Of course they didn’t call him boy, he had a bad attitude the size of Texas! How could he forget…

“Ah! Scout! Can you refrain from killing that Spy, please?” No. Not him! Spy looked on in horror as the RED Medic strode towards them, holding some strange device. The Scout shuffled in confusion, his shoulders tensing. Even the REDs fear him. “Thank you! I have a vunderful new machine I’d like to try.” “Oh! Uh, you wanna use this Spy?” The Scout relaxed, realizing he wasn’t the target.

“Yes! It’s so lucky I caught you like this, we usually kill the BLU team so fast..” Spy tried not to panic, especially since the mad Medic was staring. “Uh… Yeah man. Do what’cha want.” From his tone, Spy could tell that Scout was just as surprised as him. No, no NO! “I’ll leave ya to it then, doc. I gotta go fight n… all that.” The excuse fell on deaf ears, for the Medic was too busy with his device and bone saw to listen. Spy watched hopelessly as the enemy Scout left him alone with the freak.

——————

Decapitation. That’s what the Medic went with. Under normal circumstances it would have been fine. Spy would merely die and respawn back at BLU Base. But RED Medic was anything but normal. And that’s why he was still alive, hooked up to the device and being carried around like a trophy. Spy forced himself to keep a poker face, to try to conceal his fear. He didn’t want to give the Medic any sick kicks or new ideas. Whistling, the Medic trotted into RED’s respawn room with him. The other teammates froze in surprise.

There were rumors about this Medic. Rumors that were not unreasonable. They knew for sure that he experimented on his own team, replacing vital organs with the animal equivalent. There was much speculation about what such a mad-man was capable of, what his end goal could possibly be, and how insane he was. But one of the worst rumors was that he was cannibal. It made sense, what else could he be doing with the discarded organs? On second thought, Spy didn’t want to know.

So he wasn't really surprised when the RED team spoke cautiously with the mad-man. “What’cha got there, Doc?” The Engineer asked. He spoke with the cadence of a mother or school teacher. With underlying unease, of course. The Medic shifted in excitement and held him out further, so they could see.

“I’ve designed a machine to keep heads alive! There’s a vindow of opportunity after the spine is severed, and I wanted to put it to use! Say something!” He shook Jacques’ head like a toddler with a Christmas present, then paused to let him speak. It was risky, but he knew exactly what to say. In French, he viciously insulted Germany; their food, their leadership, and their women. A short but appropriate phrase he learned back in occupied France.

The RED Medic laughed loudly until he was nearly out of breath. “Oho! Ho-ho, that is true!” He UNDERSTOOD?!

———————-

Nicotine was the only tool getting Jacques through the stress of what was happening. Thankfully, the RED Medic provided him with a steady supply of bitter, cheap American cigarettes. It was cold in the fridge. He felt light in a very uncomfortable way; like a balloon that a child failed to hold onto, rising into the sky with the knowledge that he’d pop from the air pressure. He missed his hands, and he missed his heartbeat, and he missed the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. He missed eating and he missed warmth.

He didn’t hate all Germans, but he sure hated this one. He liked the BLU Medic well enough, and looked up to the escaped artists and filmmakers who made it to Hollywood during the war. But he hated RED Medic and his stupid feral grin.

Over the next few days, Spy heard incomprehensible voices through the fridge walls. He could discern the number of people in the room, but never what they were saying. RED Medic was always chortling and talking to his birds. This time, he could tell that the Medic had left the room, leaving him with one other enemy teammate. It turned out to be the RED Spy.

It was an embarrassing situation, being a disembodied head in a fridge and all. But the RED surprisingly didn’t taunt him or gloat about the situation. It actually looked like he didn’t know what to say.

But Jacques knew that RED had a score to settle with him. He had gotten pictures of him and the youngest BLU Teammate’s mama having intercourse. No Spy or man in general would take that invasion of privacy lightly. RED was probably there to interrogate or torture him, since he hadn’t come to gloat.

BLU prepared himself for whatever might come next, strengthening his poker face and praying that the RED would accidentally detach the battery on the device under his neck. He may just be put out of his misery.

RED Spy sighed in frustration and looked away. He paused, still bent down with the fridge door open. Evidently being a decapitated head wasn’t enough punishment for what had happened. Wait. My mask. What if he’s here to take my mask? Jacque himself had only bothered to take the dirtier pictures to see if he could get a picture of RED maskless. But he’d been planning to give it to the Administrator, and had no idea who RED might reveal his identity to. Or who in his family would be in danger.

He tried not to balk at the idea. “Look” RED started. He sounded tired. “We both know what you did.” Spy forced a poker face, hoping he wouldn’t give RED the satisfaction of seeing him fearful. Hoping he wouldn’t slip up. “But it would be childish of me to pitch a fit. You snuck past me fair and square.”

Jacques blinked in surprise, the first reaction he had shown since getting trapped here. He’s not planning revenge? Why? The RED teammate kneeled down closer, frowning grumpily as he did. He stared at his foe with a heavy exhaustion dimming his eyes. This was unexpected.

”You still have more of those pictures, I presume?” “Yes.” He replied without hesitation, feigning confidence. The truth was he might have one or two more of the photographs left, buried under files or tucked away somewhere. But the RED Spy had taken the majority, if not all of the pictures when he stole their intelligence that day. Disguised as poor, naive little Scout.

It was a shame that he’d probably never find another one of those photos, the boy needed to know. He needed to stop trusting his mother with whatever information she knew, so she couldn’t consort with this enemy teammate. But Spy could play the part of someone who still had a collection of evidence, at least long enough to fool RED Spy.

“When we let you go, there won’t be any way to stop you showing him.” The RED Spy sounded almost defeated in addition to exhausted. He looked away, putting his hand over his mouth and letting it fall. When he looked back, his eyes were pleading.

“Can I just make one request?” “What sort of request?” “Don’t show him the pictures of her naked. I saw that you had photographs where she’s clothed, and those will get your point across.” Jacques blinked up at him dully.

“And why should I be so discerning?” You two are the ones going behind the boy’s back for cheap pleasure. RED inhaled and exhaled with a slight shudder. “It doesn’t matter if he hates me. I’m an enemy teammate that he’ll fight regardless. But it matters if he’s estranged from his mother. They’re family.”

Spy felt a burning, deep anger swell in his veins, even without a chest. Family? “Oh, so she can keep mining his naive *** for information? So she can keep lying to him and playing with you? Please, don’t make her sound so innocent.” RED Spy glared at him suddenly, before his expression softened and he looked away. He sighed softly.

“She’s not a double agent. For all you know, I could be lying to her.” Jacques hadn’t considered that. “Look, it’s going to be hard enough when he confronts her over the clean pictures. She’s not the type who’d document her bedroom activities.” Red swallowed. “It’ll distract her, make her stumble over her words thinking about her son seeing things he was never meant to. I’m sure the pictures are an issue she’d like to discuss calmly with him.”

Spy though for a moment. He really didn’t know how guilty Scout’s mother was, or how the real boy would react. But now he knew that RED Spy cared about it. He could take advantage of that, but something held him back. The way the enemy Spy talked and his body language reminded him of something. He couldn’t place it, even with the gnawing familiarity.

But more than that his thoughts drifted to his own mother, and what would happen if there were dirty pictures of her. If he were young, and hormonal and stupid. If some creep showed him pictures of her private business, blaming her for a crime she didn’t commit.

Mrs, Murneau was a cheerful, upbeat civilian who kept her private matters private. And it would be hellish to put her through something like this. To have her son barge in with 500 questions and a file folder of disturbing content, questioning her integrity. And he could picture her horror and difficulty in defending her name, even if she was innocent. He felt a sinking pang of guilt.

If RED Spy wasn’t lying, Scout’s mother was the same way. In fact, Scout might have gotten his overly friendly and trustful personality from her.

“That is something to consider..” RED Spy stared. “Alright. I’ll sort through and find the clean ones. You have my word.” The RED sighed with relief, relaxing his tense shoulders. He’d been expecting his rival to remain unyielding.

“Thank you.” This time when he looked away, it was more casual. “Before I go, would you care for a cigarette?” “You keep a cyanide handy?” “Thankfully, there’s no need. The others are ironing out the details with Medic, but you should respawn sometime this evening.” He stared in shock. They were going to set him free? He’d get his body back! He’d finally be back at BLU base and away from that freak doctor!

Jacques tried hard to conceal his excitement and remain somewhat professional. “If you wouldn’t mind, then.” RED pulled the nasty, cheap cigarette out from between BLU’s teeth and replaced it with one of his better quality ones, lighting it before he closed the fridge door. He savored that good cigarette, which wasn’t the same brand he preferred but tasted delicious and smooth. It was sweeter and lighter in flavor than the ones he bought, which meant the hidden cyanide would stand out less.

——————-

When he spawned back at base, the rest of the team was caught off guard. Apparently he’d been gone for four days, but everyone assumed that he’d taken vacation time. It was his habit as a Spy not to announce his days off ahead of time, so he couldn’t be mad at them for the assumption. When he told them that that RED Medic had decapitated him and kept his head alive, they were horrified.

BLU Medic, who unfortunately looked almost identical to RED, was gibbering and tutting like a hen whose babies jumped in a puddle, and examining him already. Jacques repressed the urge to fight the poor Medic as he got up in his face looking for injuries. He’s only doing his job. It’s not his fault the freak has the same face as him.

The last thing he wanted was to be examined by another German, and that feeling boiled over when the doctor unexpectedly pulled up part of his mask. Before he could think, Spy found himself violently pushing Dr Ludwig and tugging his mask back into place. There was a very awkward hush as Scout and Pyro helped the doctor to his feet.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you what I was doing.” Still shaken by having more gloved hands on his neck, Spy could only nod curtly. Fritz couldn’t blame him for being jumpy and lashing out. “What were you checking for?” He asked apprehensively. “Um… Respawn complications on your neck. Or anything that the crazy Medic might have.. left?” He was not terribly surprised when Spy decided to head to bed for the night without a checkup. He wasn't ready.

———————-

after excusing himself to go to bed and rest, Jacques throughly checked for anything wrong with his neck. He’d insisted that Medic leave him be, but had no intention of dying or getting an infection from an unseen wound. Thankfully there was nothing suspicious, which soothed his nerves and the paranoid itch he’d been feeling. Then he was free to appreciate having his body.

He flexed each of his fingers in turn and balled his hands into fists. He put a hand against his chest to feel his own steady heartbeat and breathing. Jacques felt like sprinting through a field of tall grass - no, wheat- actually tulips, tulips and hyacinths. And then he wanted to roll around the warm grass, not that he’d let his team know that dirt didn't bother him. He had an image to uphold.

But here in his room, with its kitchen and amenities, he was free to celebrate.

Spy set a large pot of water to boil and grabbed a hefty serving of frozen cheese stuffed pasta from his fridge. He chopped and fried up some salty ham, and made a really good béchamel sauce with white wine, cheese, and heavy cream.

When his meal was ready, he devoured it like a starved animal and emptied half a bottle of brandy. After about 3 cigarettes and a glass of wine, he finally got into his pajamas and tumbled into bed. And even as someone who preferred to avoid sleep, he was content to curl up in the bed in the safety and comfort of his own room and body.

[snakxreader]

This probably sounds weird as hell but gender-neutral journalist thinking that they may have feelings for wambus?

(I know that there has to be people who crush on him)

A/N: Anon. Anon the entire fandom crushes on Wambus. He is second to Floofty in the sexygrump status. You are not alone and we welcome you with open arms. Enjoy the fic!

Wambus x Journalist (Journalist Catching Feelings)

This was both mutually the worst and best thing to happen to them.

Gaining a crush on the local farmer in Snaxburg was…not their best decision. But really, could they blame themselves? Every minute they’ve spent around him, they can’t stop looking. From the moment they met him at his old garden, by the falls. The dark almost navy blue on his fur, his hard emerald eyes and grump above, he had such toned muscles.

He could throw them off a cliff that broke at least ten different bones in their body and you’d still ask them to do it again.

And maybe life would’ve been easier if it was just that, just that fleeting bit of attraction that made them stumble all over their interview with him, but the more time they spend with him? Well.

They love his puns, the dumb little ones that get a giggle out of you. How he’s always checking up on them, despite a long day. Even where more people came to town, more mouths to feed, he still found time. Gave them a packet of his sauce everyday, “To keep your’ strength up,” he said, patting their shoulder. Even inviting them to the garden sometime.

Everything about Wambus set their heart aflame and they felt incredibly dumb for it. You’re supposed to be looking for Lizbert, not trying to make out with one of her expedition members!

Deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Maybe…maybe they’d get over it. They could get over it! Just had to focus really hard on their job, find Elizabert, help out the town and they’d be so busy they couldn’t possibly think about-

“Hey there.”

They yelped, turning to face a suprised Wambus with bristled fur. The part of their brain that had critical thinking skills promptly clicked off, leaving the journalist to scramble.

“Oh, uh, hey Wambus! What-what’s up?”

“Just wanted to see if you were alright. Ya been spacing out quite hard.” He replied, his surprise adapting to a more curious look. “What’re you thinking about?”

“Just….stuff relating to Lizbert…” Not a complete lie. Wambus did have something to do with Lizbert. Either way, the farmer nodded along. “Darn shame.” He sighed, sitting down to take his hat off and wow, he looks hotter without it. “Hope she turns out safe.”

“M-me too.” The journalist stuttered.

Wambus hummed. A beat of silence passed.

“Stranger.” You jolted, turning to face him. “I know it’s…hard…not ta think of the worst case scenario. Grump knows I’ve thought it myself..but.”

He set his hat back on, staring at them with a firmness that made the journalist struggle to pay attention to his words rather than his eyes. “As cheesy as it grumpin sounds…having a bit of hope never hurt anyone. Even if you’re looking at the worst case. Even if you have to prepare for the worst.” He smiled softly at them. The journalist was grateful that the darkened sky held your blush relatively well.

“…Yeah. I know.” Even if it wasn’t exactly what was bothering them, it made them feel tons better. “Thanks Wambus.”

“Course.” He tipped his hat, before standing to stretch. “I plan on sitting here a bit longer, wanna join me?”

They tried not to think about romantic fantasies revolving around them and Wambus by a campfire. Totally not kissing him. “C-can’t. Gotta….catch a thing. For Filbo.”

“Alright. Take care now.”

“Same to you!” They said, walking away from Wambus. They waited until they were a good few feet away before groaning. They were so screwed, weren’t they? These feelings were not going away.

Grump fucking damnit.