#minor triggers

[ask-the-clergy-bc]

Could I please request headcanons of the Papas meeting their S/O's very religious family for the first time, only for the family to be hostile and constantly made snide remarks about the Papas position in the Church/try to argue theology with them?

I swear I wrote something like this before, but I can’t find it so I can’t link it! But I’m still gonna answer this, just sorry if I’ve done it already! Lol!

This is also unlocking one of my favorite Papa I headcanons, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I did getting to write it!

Also proof reading; I’m sorry if this misses the mark. I got carried away with thinking of different scenarios to put reader in!

Notes:

-Written with younger Nihil in mind, but reader’s choice.

-GN Reader

-Reader implied to have one or both parents/parental figures, some grandparents, and siblings. Each is different and can be swapped out per reader preference.

(Trigger warnings: emotional abusive families, unhealthy relationships with family, religious trauma for the reader.)

Papas Meeting Their S/O’s Heavily Religious Families

Papa Nihil: Your Papa never understood why you kept in contact with your toxic family. They constantly belittled you and tried to convince you to abandon your place at the clergy. You admitted that despite the nasty things they said about your faith, you still loved them. They were your family and you didn’t have the heart to completely abandon them over it. Nihil despises them but can’t force you to cut contact, so he remained supportive. One day you did get an invitation to come home as a peace offering. Nihil was suspicious but agreed that you should go. Primarily because he didn’t trust your family and didn’t want to leave you alone with them… but wait, they willingly invited him too? Shit. Now he was REALLY SUSPICIOUS! But you asked him to go with your puppy dog eyes, and he couldn’t say no.

This would be the first time he’s met them and he wasn’t going to let you down. So he reluctantly agreed to come home with you. Nihil grabbed a fine bottle of wine and a dish he had his personal ghoul made. Despite being very grumpy at having to go, your Papa was polite and charming as he could be. It lasted about ten minutes getting into the door. Because, unfortunately, your grand father was there. Your grandpa was one of those super traditional, old school types who thought everyone should bow to him as head of the household. Your grandpa didn’t even let you sit before he was criticizing your beloved. Citing him as being rude for imaginary slights, and that he would expect nothing less from a demon worshipper.

Nihil wasn’t having any of it. “Actually, I should be at the head of the table: I outrank all of you where I came from.” Your lover smirked. Then all Hell broke loose. It went from your Grandpa shouting about sin, to your mother crying for him to calm down, and then Nihil laughing in everyone’s face. You both didn’t make it an hour before you were being pushed out of the house and told to never come back. Nihil’s only regret was seeing you cry, because he knows how badly you wanted to be accepted. But he decided to take you out to dinner, instead.

Papa I: Quite frankly, your family had picked the absolute worst person to ever have a theological debate with. Papa I isn’t just a dedicated anti pope; Theology is his passion and special interest! He does nothing but study various religions, INCLUDING every single denomination of his dreaded nemesis. So you knew the day Papa met your family they would be humbled VERY quickly. Actually, you couldn’t wait to see it if you were being honest.

Your family had been pestering you for ages to come home and visit. They hated where you ran off to, but insisted they still loved you and just wanted you to come see them. God would always forgive you, right? You agreed only if you could bring Papa. With a lot of reluctance they did agree. Papa was happy to accept thinking it was your way of reconnecting with your family. He knew the stories but was willing to play nice for your sake…. Yet he was intrigued as to why you were so giddy the trip to your childhood home.

Aside from a lot of passive aggressive comments towards him (which he ignored), the family had been well behaved. It’s not until dinner that your uncle decided to have a ‘good faith’ argument ‘for fun’ with Papa’s and yours beliefs. Papa was calm at first until your uncle started preaching. You sat back with a small smile as Papa dressed the man down. Papa not only contradicted all of your uncle’s arguments with actual Bible verses, but Papa even showed he knew more about his faith than anyone could have guessed. Your family was stunned and dinner was finished in silence. Papa thanked them for a lovely time and you never fought with your family again… they were too scared for it.

Papa II: If it wasn’t for the fact that Papa genuinely cared about you he would have never agreed to this. Papa openly despises your family after hearing stories of how they treated you. You had to literally beg him to meet them just once. One dinner to meet him so they would stop hounding you about your mysterious partner and the “crazy cult you joined.” All you wanted was this one dinner so you could go back to ignoring them for the rest of the year… until Christmas, at least. You’re very lucky Papa has committed to you enough to agree. The compromise is that HE chose where to meet the family.

This is how your family got invited to one of the most prestigious Italian Restaurants in the city. Not Papa’s cherished favorite, mind you. But good enough that it cost a pretty penny. Your parents and sister didn’t seem to mind ‘dirty Satanist money’ when it got them the finest dishes in the world. Plus, it was neutral ground. so Papa was a touch more relaxed than he would have been otherwise. Even after thanking Papa, your family seemed like they couldn’t wait to be incredibly rude to him. You pushed your risotto around your plate and kept your head down as your mom kept asking questions. The kind that were thinly veiled passive aggressiveness under a sweet tone. Papa sipped his wine and answered non committaly to questions about his faith, his role in the ministry, how much he made, what made him part of the congregation…

Papa was a classy man, so one worded and cool answers kept him from being snarky. ‘Lucifer. Anti Pope. more than jesus. Birth right.’ Your mother seemed to sour more and more at his answers, and your sister sneered in barely concealed disgust. But the line was finally crossed when your mom whole heartedly smiled at Papa. “It’s never too late to be saved by Jesus. You know you both could always come home, receive forgiveness, and stop living in sin.” Papa set down his wine. “And you could stop giving tidings to a Mega Church where your pastor has a criminal record.” Your family’s stunned face was enough to make you almost choke on your food. Needless to say, you’ve never seen the three of them run out on a bill so fast after that. But you did thank Papa for being nice. After all, you know the man could have done so much worse.

Papa III: To his credit, Papa wanted to be absolutely gracious and was happy to put aside religion if it meant keeping peace with your family. He knew it was important to you to just have your family on good terms. Even if that meant a healthy arms length away from him. So he was prepared to not speak of his faith and be his cordial and charming self. Anything to make future contact easier for you! Despite your rocky differences, he knew you and your family were incredibly close.

Papa had agreed to let your family come over for dinner to help mend the bridge. He was happy to host! You didn’t think they would ever agree, but you always gave small invitations. Your family declined every single one. Until one day you decided to try again for Easter… and they accepted?? Your were a bit panicked, but Papa was ecstatic! He wanted them to like him and possibly be more communicative with you! Maybe even visit more! He had his fill of extremists in the past, so he wasn’t expecting a miracle. But he definitely wasn’t expecting to be as disrespected in his own home as he was that day.

Papa had the kitchens prepare the nicest Easter brunch in the gardens. No Jesus, but plenty of bunnies and plastic eggs for your baby cousins. Your family (and extended family) pretty much all ignored every greeting he tried to make. They didn’t acknowledge Papa and instead decided to nit-pick you, the abbey, and even the siblings serving you. Papa had gritted teeth the whole day. Trying to be level headed and supportive. but when they told him they didn’t want him saying ‘grace’ at the meal did Papa finally react. “You come into MY HOME, on YOUR HOLIDAY that we accommodated for YOU, and you treat me and my home like GARBAGE?” When your mom pointed out he was a Satanist anyway Papa yelled, “GET THE FUCK OUT!!” Papa called them everything from hypocrite to their faith to disgraces. You were happy to see all of them run out with their tails tucked between their legs. Papa never invited your family to anything ever again.

Papa IV/Copia: Copia meeting your family had been entirely by accident! You were little to no contact with them and intended to keep your partner and life AWAY from them! Yet fate had other plans. You had attended the last of the tour shows with the band and one of the destinations had been your hometown. Copia always knew you hated traveling back there. Originally he had asked if you wanted to skip over the city and take a mini break away from the crew. Happy to let you go off on your own solo trip and just reconnect with the tour after this particular show. But you vehemently were against leaving and assured him the chances of your family being around a ritual was one in a million… until you saw your entire family protesting outside of the venue. (Swiss told you to buy a lottery ticket with your odds after you picked your jaw off of the ground.)

You almost couldn’t believe your eyes. They must have stayed out for hours to yell at the band’s tour bus. The only reason you were even out there was to wrangle some of the ghouls from screwing with some of the protesters. That’s when you saw your siblings and cousins in the midst of the signs. When one of them recognized you Hell broke loose. Your brother, a proud pastor, called you out by name. Copia had come to grab you and heard it. “Beloved, is that… your brother?” You begged Copia to just go back into the bus with you. Normally, he’s a more passive man in tense events and likes to handle issues more calmly. But when your brother, sister in law, and even cousins started shouting biblical insults at you he snapped.

Very calmly Copia strolled over to your brother and met him eye to eye. You knew that Copia being calm meant he was absolutely livid. Your brother went from being belligerent to gulping at the blazing white eye of your lover. Copia recited word for word all the passages he knew about not being above God and judging your neighbor. Every time your brother tried to respond, Copia spoke over him louder and louder until he was practically shouting verses. Soon all the protestors were staring in horror until all were muttering and quiet. Copia just scoffed at your brother before turning to you. “What a terrible child of God you are. Pathetic.” You felt on top of the world when Copia guided you away, leaving behind a stunned and silent brother.

[catgrandpa]

No more Tim flinching away from him and Jason brooding about Tim being scared of him. It should be like this:

Jason: has a flash of panic/rage after seeing Tim do something particularly triggering in the Robin suit and lashes out a little

Tim: flinches back hard and falls into a defensive stance

Jason:

Tim:

Jason: lmao dude did u think I was gonna kill u or smth? weak shit

Tim: kinda, but at least I can drive down the road without being triggered by a stop light. embarrassing.

[alexandraisyes]

Starting 2025 Off With A Groomer Post

Hello tsams community. I can not escape this hell not matter how hard I try, it seems.

Mothy Main - Mothy Alt - Ikamigami

Because they can't just fucking stay dead I get to make this post. Thanks for bringing this up so I don't have to be the one to break the ice about it. (I meant to make this months ago but I got severe burn out from all the other groomers I've made awareness posts on).

Please reblog for safety and awareness.

[beemovieerotica]

did you guys know that if you try to search for "crying" or "sad" gifs on tumblr, the site intervenes because it thinks you're gonna kill yourself and links you to KoKoBot, the thing that data mines users' mental health crises

[defire]

Child soldiers, minor living weapons

[modern warfare, action movie vibes]

Content: minor whump, child soldiers, forced maturity, child abuse, whipping, humiliation, dehumanization

Expected to be just as mature as an adult, this kid knowing guns and being able to fight, but also carving their name into the wall where they're hiding from enemy fire, y'know just for fun

Constantly out-adapting the adults (kid brains are designed for learning FAST). Whumper is training them to fight their enemies, and whumpee is secretly training whumper to teach them how to eventually escape...

Whumpee putting whumper's favorite picture right in front of their whip. Maybe when they go to punish whumpee next time they'll calm down and go a little softer.

Whumpee using every metric they can to convince whumper they're loyal so they can be given the freedom to run away.

Whenever whumper figures out whumpee outsmarted them they lock them up, take away every tool they have for learning and make them do exhausting reps, "I'll just have to train that will out of you then!"

Whumpee slapped or beaten for glaring at whumper, but anyone else, it's encouraged.

"Careful, he bites." (Whumpee is expected to snarl here.)

If whumpee failed to intimidate whumper's enemies, there's hell to pay.

Whumpee being totally gullible about common sense stuff but you will not fool them about army politics, human body science, or weaponry. They can tell you whether you want a 9mm or a .380 but have no idea why you would brush up your appearance to meet the opposite sex.

Awkward teenager whumpees who just really want to score in social interactions but they're only allowed around adults, so they're always bullied out by shared cultural stuff they don't know about.

Big-eyed kids that just eat their meat with their hands in the corner, cough, and go out to punch the punching bag while the soldiers eat and talk

Whumpee being lonely. Until one of the soldier groups decides to take them "under their wing" (then you have like a carewhumper situation?)

Little whumpees that rely on ranged weapons or long spears because once it gets close range, they're getting literally thrown into walls and stuff

Them getting thrown into a bookshelf and kind of bouncing off onto the floor. Stomped back down into the carpet. Yelps of pain, and then a hard breath as they just take it. They're used to pain by now.

Picked up by the throat kicking and squirming, but they have fighting training so they kick their opponent in the face.

A cute younger teen appearing in a battlefield and then just, unstrapping a massive machine gun without even blinking

Also, a kid half their opponent's size glaring at them, threatening to kill them. And their opponent knowing they should be scared, but also they look so tiny and harmle--

[sir-heichou-smith]

I've been OBSESSED with reading psycho!soap/reader, but like what if you

You temporarily move to the Scottish countryside to help your best friend take care of their sick grandparent while they're studying abroad or smth and when you start unpacking you hear a knock at the door and it's a man with piercing blues and a clean-cut warhawk staring at you, probably expecting the old person you're now looking after but it's YOU and he decides right there and then he has to have you.

Those eyes widen and pearly whites form a sharp smile (almost predatory) and he introduces himself by saying he's their neighbor and he's lived here for years and knows that they needs help sometimes so he comes over to help with the groceries and do the heavy lifting etc etc.

The thing is he only ever comes around when they're asleep or at an appointment or smth so it's usually just you awake/alone in the house.

It's a bit strange when things start breaking around the house. The kitchen sink leaks when it hadnt before, the cabinet hinges are loose, a light doesn't work... you could have sworn the ceiling fan wasn't that wobbly, but the house is old and you know the handsome Scot will be back to fix it anyway (not that you're complaining).

He starts to stay for hours at a time almost instantly, coming over with open arms and a bottle of wine or something sweet, awaiting a hug and asking you what's for dinner--practically pushing his way inside while palming your waist and pulling you in.

One night you seem to have had too much to drink (you didn't think you were such a lightweight after only 2 glasses of wine), your head fuzzy and limbs a bit too heavy to be comfortable.

"Y'alrigh bonnie? Seems like it's time for bed." He laughs and picks you up from your spot on the couch despite your protests of being able to walk and he really didn't have to and oh that's his hand that's definitely a rough warm calloused hand on your-

He takes you to your room and pulls back the covers for you, gently lays you down and you can't get your mouth to work to thank him.

Your eyes are already falling shut and you think you feel soft lips across your forehead before succumbing to a rather deep alcohol-induced slumber.

Your dreams that night are rather vivid. Flashes of warm skin with thick hair and rippling muscles above you, deep moans and hot breaths against your neck and chest.

You feel hands all over, gripping your waist and spreading your legs wider, toying with your chest and gripping hard around the fat.

You dream of a thick Scottish accent and filthy words. "Oh, bonnie just like that. Gonna fucking cum, gonna make me-"

When you wake up, the wet soreness you feel between your thighs and the way your nipples rub sensitive against the covers don't completely escape you, and when you make your way downstairs you find him shirtless in the kitchen with breakfast on the stove, coffee brewing, and a smile that's just a bit too wide for how early it is.

[dyed-indigo]

i may or may not have written a fanfiction

[ID: Shang Qinghua and a human Mobei-Jun wearing a doctor's coat sit at a table together eating a bowl of bugs. Mobei-Jun looks satisfied with a pair of wings sticking out of his mouth, while Shang Qinghua has a cricket leg stuck to his face and is crying. Shang Qinghua is also thinking about himself at an earlier point in time, gaming on a livestream and saying "Chat, I'm not gonna eat bugs!" /End ID]

[ask-the-clergy-bc]

How would Papa III/Papa lV react to a s/o other who came back from the dead? Maybe s/o was hiding they were immortal, got caught up in an accident, then got back up like nothing happened.

NGL I took some… artistic liberties with the reader’s ‘condition’. I hope that’s ok! It’s been a real Infesstissumam type of week for me! This is based on lore I’ve built up behind the scenes for my own personal works, and is in no way canon. But I hope you enjoy my ideas! :)

GN Reader* (Note for after prompt, see bottom)

Supernatural Being/Immortal Reader

Relationship Tension

Papa III and IV Reacting to their S/O Magically Coming Back to Life… Literally

Papa III:

-No one can remember a time Papa was this devastated. Not when he was forced to retire, not when he lost everything… This is one of the few times he was forcibly pushed to go into private mourning. Even Omega had to be called back from duty to console the third Emeritus. Papa felt his world collapsing in. A demon blooded does not give their heart so easily, so it’s catastrophic when it shatters.

- Omega is the only reason anyone believes you when you ‘come back from the dead.’ You had just been the victim of a fatal highway accident merely days before. EVERYONE in the Ministry knew about it- And word travels fast! If it wasn’t for him everyone would assume you were some imposter or evil entity trying to take advantage of the situation.

-Even though the accident wasn’t your fault, you already felt guilty. This was going to be a very awkward explanation to Papa. You’ve been hiding your true nature for so many years you didn’t even bother to tell him. How was he going to react?

-Omega was the one to lead you to Papa but stopped you in the hallway. Barring you from entering the room where you could feel the angst of your beloved. The large ghoul loomed over you, eyes cold and lacking any empathy for you. It was the first and only time you felt scared of him.

“He deserves to know. Tell him or I will… Ghuleh.”

All you could do was tremble and nod.

-Papa looked AWFUL when you finally saw him. No paint, bags under his eyes, his hair and clothes a mess. He had been rotting away on his bed before you finally walked in, practically a shell of his former self. At first he didn’t respond to you calling for him, brushing you off as another person attempting to comfort him. But when he recognized your voice the man bolted up in bed. Papa stared at you with wide eyes before he scrambled to get you into his arms.

-You were showered in desperate kisses, a crushing hug, and his near sobbing; praising Lucifer for bringing you back to him. Luckily, that lasted for a good hour as he got it out of his system. The entire time you couldn’t help but glance at Omega, who watched you both from the door way with unblinking eyes.

-When you both calmed down from your emotional reunion you were forced to swallow your pride and tell Papa what had happened. That you truly had ‘died’ in the physical sense. But you tried to reassure him it was ok! That happens sometimes, and you were fine! Papa didn’t seem to understand at first before asking if you were not human or if you had been in magic practices this whole time. Well, he wasn’t wrong!

-It was nerve wracking having him go from super emotional to watching you impassively as you stumbled over your words. Yes, you knew magic that he couldn’t sense… and technically you USED to be human. Before you know, you took an Oath and became a Ghuleh. No, not THE Ghuleh of course but- you were a long lived and skilled disciple of her power. It’s the whole reason you were granted sanctuary in the Ministry in the first place. You technically couldn’t die in the physical sense. You never bothered telling him because it’s been so long since your practiced and you were afraid he might not like you if he knew. You faced so much rejection from your magic lineage, you didn’t want to lose him too. You were just too cocky that something like this wouldn’t happen.

-Papa sat in silence for what felt like ages, staring at you once you finished. A part of you was starting to break down figuring your relationship was over. But he finally moved to take your hand and give a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“Don’t you ever lie and hide from me again.”

-you cried and you both hugged.

Papa IV/Copia:

-The news of your supposed passing tore Copia apart when he was first informed. He is a strong man, but you have always been his weakness. Copia can’t cope with the idea that the love of his life has been stolen from him too soon. When Copia was informed he became a sobbing mess, nearly passed out, and was utterly inconsolable. They had to give him tome off (and a LOT of Xanax) to keep him stable. It was a second disaster all in itself!

-You hadn’t meant to worry everyone. Hell, how were you EVER supposed to predict the most random renovation accident in Ministry history! All you did was walk by one of the new walls they were putting in and… at the very least, no one else had been hurt. But it was a terribly embarrassing time for you when you sat up and walked out of the Clergy mortuary. At least Miasma got a kick out of it.

-Sister Imperator was the first person to greet you when you ‘came back.’ And she was not happy. Imperator had been the person to guard your secrets and give you a place in the Ministry. Even let you near her prodigal son. But the deal had been you disclose everything about yourself to Copia. To Tell him what you were so they could AVOID his emotional meltdowns. A small side of you had been hurt that she cared more about Copia’s feelings than your own predicament, but you pushed it aside.

-“off you go. Go make it right.” You hated how she treated you like a child and not like a fellow disciple. But she was right- you did break your promise. And now you’ve accidentally broken Copia’s heart, even if it wasn’t your fault!

-The band ghouls had been happy to see you, but Copia nearly shrieked at your presence. The Papa convinced you were some sort of trick of his mind. It took you and all the ghouls an hour to calm him down (and even more Xanax.)

-When the new Papa came back to himself he clung to you, sobbing. You could barely make out him praising Lucifer and begging you not to leave him again. You let him, he deserved to get it out. You even found yourself tearing up and apologizing. The two of you rocked each other until all the tears dried up.

-You asked to be alone when you finally got the courage to explain what happened to him. You finally explained that you were a Ghuleh, a disciple of the zombie queen and her undying magic. Copia listened but he was stuck in a look of shock the entire time. You assured him that you never wanted him to find out this way. You were hoping he’d never find out.

-The worst thing ended up happening, aside from a break up. Copia didn’t want to leave you and he wasn’t planning to. But he was horribly upset at you for keeping this from him. Copia understands as much as he can. That’s not an easy lineage to hail from in this day and age. But you couldn’t tell him AT ALL?? How could you both be so close and so in love yet you kept this from him? It took you LITERALLY DYING to finally come clean! He felt so stupid at first. That he had a break down over this and not being strong enough to tell you were this deep in forbidden magic.

-As much as you both hate it, it did take a small hit on your relationship. A son of Lucifer and Child of Ghuleh has its own magical complications. But you don’t split. Copia would never let you go over this. He just needed a little time to get over feeling embarrassed and upset. This whole ordeal has made you both closer if anything!

-Imperator is oddly pleased about this…

—

*Notes:

Ghuleh is both the name of the Zombie Queen AND her highest ranking disciples.

Anyone who is a Ghuleh is someone who achieved partial or full ‘immortality’ through the magics practiced by the Zombie Queen.

Ghuleh in this regard is a gender neutral title, and one of VERY high honor.

In my work Ghuleh is NOT to be confused with ‘Ghoulette’ or any feminine nick names for Ghouls. They are separate categories.

[fraugwinska]

What about the reader found and old radio, they thought the radio was broken but it's not, it's just antique.. when they play it at night time alastor broadcast was heard first they feel something is odd.. but they love to listen to his voice, heck they even like talking to each other, because of this encounter alastor talk about it to rosie, she was happy hearing alastor telling her stories but she feel odd when alastor mention that the person he talks to is a human, Rosie giving him advice to not fall for human because they're different species, and it will make him weak etc.

Alastor feel guilty and agree with rosie advice so he's stop contacting the reader from the radio, he thinks that the reader will be fine but no the reader take it personally.. they thought alastor don't want to talk to them anymore.. it drive them mad and lead to suicide..

So yeah angst :D

Oh Anon. What have you done.

I cried while I wrote that - it took two very good friends of mine to encourage me to post it (Thanks to @macabr3-barbi3 and @mysterypotatoink). But I think it's tragic and beautiful, and honestly - I'm kinda proud of it!

TW: Psychological Trauma, descend into madness, loss of self care and suicide - please take care of yourself and do not read if you aren't comfortable with any of the mentioned! MINORS DNI

Here we go.

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Leap of Faith

You carried in the last box from you banged-up minivan. The old thing barely made it to your new home. A little cabin in the outskirts of New Orleans, a little off the grid and surrounded by the peaceful and whirring bayous of Louisiana.

A fixer-upper, just like yourself.

The online auction had intrigued you the second you found it, the photos were a bit blurry and you knew it was a risk to buy a place you've never set foot in, but something in you called you to get it. The price you paid was laughable, barely making a dent in your savings. Moving states sounded scary and impossible, but you felt oddly calm about it.

You didn't have a lot of stuff to move anyway. After all, you only lived with your late grandmother, and she never really cared for material things. Your parents left you at her doorstep, never to be seen again.

Caring for her in her last, sickness-ridden years had been a no-brainer - it felt like nothing in comparison to all she had done for you - but it also had been a bit lonely.

You had your friends, if you could even call them that, but you rarely saw them - guiding your nan through the last months of her life had been demanding and time-consuming. It had left you exhausted and emotionally unavailable, and after a while, calls and texts ceased, until it was just you and her. You felt lost, as if the world was slowly pulling away from you.

When she finally died, peacefully in her sleep, you felt sad, relieved and drained.

Detached from the city you lived in.

Lost.

So you decided to sell what little you inherited, except for a few sentimental mementos, and move away from it all. To start a new life, a happier one, finally one that was truly your own.

You took the final box inside, setting it on the coffee table and wiped the sweat from your brow. You looked around the little cabin: The roof had some spots that needed a patch, and the wood floors were a bit warped, but it was all yours. No more having to share anything with anyone.

The cabin came furnished, a lot of the stuff was old, but still usable. You figured that would change once you settled in and had a vision of what you wanted and needed to buy. The thought of thinking about no one but yourself made you nervous.

But a little excited, too.

The old furniture would do for the moment, but there was a particular piece that caught your eye: an old, vintage cathedral radio, sitting nestled in between a cracked wooden box and a tarnished, bronze candle holder in a bookcase that was a bit out of place in the tiny space. With a tilted head, you stepped closer to inspect it, drawn to it by it's unique character and beauty.

It looked as well-loved as it looked well-used, the mahogany a bit scuffed, the knobs a little worn from years of being turned. But there were golden details etched into the front, and you traced them lightly with a finger, strangely touched and intrigued.

You were certain the old thing didn't work, but when you plugged it into the nearby socket, static erupted from the speakers, making you jump back. You had to smile, though.

Tonight, you wouldn't be alone. You'd have this little device and a little music for good company.

***

"I'm home!" you announced to no one in particular, as you closed the door behind you, your hands full with overfilled grocery bags full of necessities, waiting to fill your empty cabinets.

The day had been hot, but a welcome breeze of the impending night break cooled the inside of your little cabin a bit. With a quiet grunt you set the paper bags down at the small kitchenette. Your groceries were quickly dispersed, and you put on an apron you saved from your grandmother as you got started on dinner.

You hummed as you cut vegetables and boiled water. It had been a long time since you had cooked, really cooked, your nan wasn't much for eating and had no problem living off of simple soups and toast. When you opened your fridge to get some butter, your glance fell onto the radio.

A little music would be nice, you decided, and you walked over, cleaning your hands on the red, frilly cloth around your waist before you turned the dial. The soft sound of static made you hum in contempt - yup. Still works. A little turn to the left, and the room was filled with a soft jazzy tune, the melody a bit grainy, but you didn't mind that at all. You returned to the stove, swaying your hips to the beat as you worked. The music made you feel at ease, and for a moment, the world seemed to be just right.

Just as the onions began to brown in the pan, the song faded out to a voice. You turned your head to the radio, intrigued by the unusual, eccentric accent of the host. It reminded you of the old, vintage films and recordings your grandmother had been fond of - wasn't it called 'transatlantic'?. Whatever it was, it made you smile.

"Now wasn't that a kick in the head, dearest listener? I sure hope you enjoyed the little musical interlude, but it's time to return to the real show! As usual, my name is Alastor, and you are listening to the best jazz, blues and swing music that Hell has to offer!"

You blinked, a little puzzled and yet amused. "Sure is hot as hell today, strange man in the radio.", you mumbled, chuckling as you stirred the bell peppers under the caramelized onions.

"Today we have a very special guest joining my humble broadcast, it seems. Pleasure to meet you, darling, quite the pleasure!"

"Oh who? Me?" you asked, looking theatrically over your shoulder with batted lashes, shaking your head over your own silliness. You weren't used to talking out loud to yourself, or even really thinking out loud. You were always alone, after all, but the little pretend-play was fun. You laughed a bit, waiting for the host's guest to speak.

"Of course you, little dove. Who else would I mean?"

You gasped, and nearly dropped the spoon as you whipped around, eyes glued to the humming, orange glow of the radio in the dim darkness of your living room.

"What's that? You're surprised, my dear? Don't worry, you're not the only one! This is a first for me, too. Never had a human join my program. I must say, I'm quite intrigued! Tell me, what is your name?"

Your eyes grew wide, and the hairs at the back of your neck stood up. You took a hesitant step backwards and hit the hot stove, making you curse under your breath. Was the heat finally getting to you?

"Don't be shy now, darling. I'm not gonna hurt you, cross my lil' old, blackened heart."

"I-I'm..." you began, swallowing as your fingers tightened around the wooden spoon. "My name is..."

"Yes?"

"I'm... crazy.", you mumbled, rubbing a hand over your face and chuckling a bit. You were just going insane, that's all. Must be the stress, combined with the intense heat. And lack of a companion, a tiny voice reminded you. Yes. Must be.

"Hello crazy, this is Alastor." The host laughed, together with a canned audience.

"Alastor...", you repeated, realization settling in - this wasn't a joke, or a trick of your mind.

"At your service, my dear.", the voice cooed. "Now, I believe you still owe me your name..."

***

You weren't crazy.

Or if you were, you didn't mind. Not with Alastor by your side - or, to be exact, in the radio on your bookcase.

After two weeks of ignoring the cursed radio after unplugging it in a wave of panic on your first night, your morbid curiosity got the better of you. You plugged it back in, and turned on the dial. Just once, you told yourself, then never ever again.

And that's how the two of you got in contact with each other once more. Alastor was as chipper as the first time you heard him, and after a bit of back-and-forth, he promised once again not to harm you, and you shared your name with him. The rest was history. He was very pleasant company. For a demon from hell.

You wouldn't classify the conversations you had with him as a real friendship in the beginning, but you did talk. Occasionally. Mostly in the evenings, when you cooked dinner: He'd ask you about your day and would pry eagerly for a little bit of gossip or new information about the modern New Orleans. When he let it slip that he lived in this very cabin in the 1920's, you weren't stopping with questions about what it was like back in his days, which he, in return, answered generously and enthusiastically.

The first few times he would try to coerce you into making a deal for your soul, casually sprinkling the offer into his small talk, but with enough blunt refusals and a few more days of radio silence (pun intended), he dropped the topic and seemed content on just talking. You, in return, found yourself relaxing into his charming company, your brain happily engaged with trying to wrap your head around him, or better, you tried to come to terms with it.

Weeks passed, and turning the radio on in the evenings became less of an occasional lapse of judgment but more of a routine you were looking forward to. You could tell the Alastor felt the same, his banter became less tense and acted, and a little more genuine.

It made your heart swell in happiness, that someone out there seemed to appreciate your company – even if that someone wasn't human.

Apprehension became amusement, and fascination became friendship. Oddly enough, you found common grounds in a lot of things: A love for cooking and good music. Preferring books over films. Red wine over white. A shared aversion of vulgarity, and appreciation for good manners.

Your nights were cut shorter and shorter, you would spend hours chatting on and on, until the deep darkness of night disappeared into a shade of blue on the horizon. Neither of you minded, at least that was what you thought. Alastor never ended the conversations with you. Either you had to say your goodbyes, or you would just fall asleep after hours of talking on your couch, and awake with a pained back to a shut-off radio. Then, after you'd realize that you would have a whole day ahead of you without hearing his voice, the loss would make your chest ache.

Two months into the 'thing', which was still a strange concept you could barely comprehend, the truth of the matter dawned on you: You liked him. Not just because he was a surprisingly amicable voice coming out of your vintage radio, a lively constant in the uneventful life you had made for yourself in Louisiana - he had become important to you, irreplaceable, even. An essential element to your life. You couldn't imagine how you'd gone so long without him, and yet, here you were, lost without him, scrambling through the hours until you could talk to him once more.

"Something on your mind, darling? You're awfully quiet today."

You held your fork and knife still above the salmon you had just been about to eat. It was the first meal of the evening in a long time where you weren't spending the entirety of the preparation time speaking to him, lost in thought about your blossoming feelings. He had gotten excellent at reading you like an open book - you should've gotten used to it after a couple of weeks of him catching on to every little change in your demeanor and knowing just what to say, when you were feeling happy, upset or nervous.

"Oh, um... no. It's nothing Al. Work had me in a wringer today."

"Is it your co-worker Susan again?" You could basically hear his eyes rolling, making you chuckle. "That name must be cursed, every single soul with that name is a menacing pain."

"Maybe,", you muttered, nibbling on a piece of the roasted fish. "This one is mostly just an ornery old bitch."

"Taking the words right out of my mouth, dear." he laughed.

There's was a comfortable pause, with just a gentle background noise of his ever-playing static and an easy, melodic tune coming from his program.

"Is that really all that preoccupies that pretty little head of yours?"

You blushed, picking at the food with your fork. "Bold for a guy who's never seen me to assume my head is pretty."

The radio crackled with pops and feedback. "Bold to assume I can't see you whenever I want, little dove." he said, his voice strangely deeper, tinged with something you didn't catch at the shock of his words.

"You... what?"

"And I can most assure you,", he purred out of the speakers, "pretty is a well fitting word to describe you."

He hummed in approval when your cheeks gained color, as if he knew his comment threw you off guard and made you turn a lovely shade of pink, but it didn't make it any less enticing.

***

"Alastor, if I didn't know better, I would say you have become smitten with this mysterious gal you're blabbing on and about."

Rosie giggled, hitting his shoulder in a playful, friendly swipe. "When will I meet her? Come on now, you can't hide her forever. Or are you afraid she'll like me better?"

She laughed, and Alastor forced a toothy grin. His long time friend was the only one he talked about you with, and he knew she was intrigued whenever she could smell a blooming dalliance, especially with a notoriously abstinent bachelor like himself. Normally, he would laugh at that thought with a healthy dose of mockery, but he found himself to be less and less aversed at the thought - if it would be you. Impossible, of course.

"Nonsense, Rosie dear, nonsense,", he chuckled, taking a large sip from his coffee cup, a heavy hand bringing up a plate stacked with finger sandwiches. "And I'm afraid you won't meet her for a long time, maybe never. Humans seldom traverse to hell in their lifetime, and who knows if the little darling will take on the trip downstairs?"

Rosie coughed in her tea, her blackened eyes wide in shock. "Human? It's a human girl you've been courting here? Oh, Alastor, you old fool."

Alastor scrunched his nose, "Talking, Rosie, talking is all we do. And yes, she's a human. I don't see the quandary in that. It's just a little fun."

"Well,", she huffed with a small, thoughtful frown. "I would've hoped for a little more sense in you." The tall demonesse set down her teacup with nimble fingers.

"You may not call it courting, but if it quacks like a duck, it's a duck, love." Rosie ignored the indignant look Alastor gave her. "You know as well as I do that such a connection is dangerous to entertain. Humans are fragile and fragile things tend to break. And when they do, the owner mostly follows. You need to break this connection off."

Rosie gave him a sad look as his ears flattened against his head. She would've been more than happy for her oldest and dearest friend to have a partner on his side, someone good and honest who really cared about him, maybe loved him even, as unlovable as he was. But she had to protect him from the silly idea of possibly falling for a living, breathing and supposedly untarnished soul, and the heartbreak that would surely follow. "Don't make the mistake of breaking your heart, dear friend." she smiled, a tint of melancholy hidden in the red of her lips.

"I think it's far too late for that."

She offered a handkerchief, but Alastor waved her off, his smile more faint and close to a frown than she's ever seen.

***

The first day where nothing but static noise came out of the radio, you were irritated but just thought: 'Maybe Alastor has something to do'.

The second day of static you grew concerned. 'What if something happened to Alastor? Was he okay?'.

On the third day, you were panicked. 'Maybe he doesn't want to talk to you anymore! Maybe he met someone in hell, someone that he could talk to whenever he wanted and not through an old, dusty radio?'.

"Please talk to me.", you whispered into the empty room. Your knees were pulled to your chest, and you sat on your couch, eyes fixed on the radio in the bookcase. Your eyes stung with the tears threatening to spill. "Please, Al. I miss you." You shook your head, chuckling sadly. It had only been 3 days, but they'd felt like an eternity. The world had seemed silent without Alastor's constant chatter.

When night fell for the fourth day, you were half asleep, eyes red and burning and tears still staining your cheeks. You talked for hours into the void of your house, the radio now moved to sit in front of you on the coffee table, growing more and more desperate as hours passed. Talking faded into pleading, and pleading into begging.

"Please, I'm sorry, if I did something wrong, I'm sorry...", you mumbled into the wooden furnishing, resting your cheek against the top of the machine, eyes slipping shut with fatigue and defeat. A dry sob slipped past your trembling lips, as your hands desperately grabbed the sides of the antique device.

"Alastor please, don't leave me alone here...", you whispered with the last of your strength, before your body succumbed to your exhaustion, your unconscious mind welcomed the darkness.

If you had stayed awake for just a moment more, you would've, maybe, heard the faint shuddering breath beyond the static rumble. But you didn't. So you had no chance at knowing that, Alastor, listening to every word, saw and heard you at your weakest, and all it did to him was stir the embers and give the blaze an opening for the flames of his anger at fate to rage.

Work had called, again. Susan of all people. Threats were made - either come back to work, or don't come back at all. You smashed your phone. It was useless anyway. What was the point without...

Alastor wasn't here, hadn't answered for seven days now. And you had spent the whole time talking, begging him to show himself, just show himself and tell you what you did wrong, just talk to you one last time and then you'd stop, if that was what he wanted. You became obsessed with the orange light of the illuminated screen, imagining the flickers were maybe signs from him.

You stopped eating, stopped drinking, stopped almost anything, you just sat, in front of the radio, unmoving and unwilling to miss the smallest sign of his return.

Every single minute stretched into agony, and every breath that left your lips made a fresh tear roll down your paling cheeks, until your body couldn't produce them anymore. Then, you cried wordless whimpers and moans, even started praying to an unknown entity.

It wasn't as if Alastor owed you anything. It's not as though you thought the two of you were anything other than two kindred souls, one human, one demon, talking to each other. As a result, it wasn't like you had the right to anything from him.

It was strange to consider the connection the two of you shared: Something more than acquaintances, something closer than friends, and yet never fully crossing the line beyond it. The unpenetrable boundary dividing life and death in between.

Your eyes fell on a large, old crucifix on your wall, staring back at you with pity.

For the first time in days, you left the sofa, took it from the wall and burned it on your gas stove, watching the face of the nailed figurine slowly melt in the fire.

***

It had been eight days of excruciating, one-sided silence.

Eight days Alastor cursed his cowardice as he sat, red eyed with claws digging into his scalp, as he listened to you plead for him to talk - To answer. To do anything. Anything, but leave you alone, he heard, as if the words were spoken right in his ear.

Eight days of watching you slowly detriment from the eyes of the shadows he was able to manifest above, tugging on the very fabric of the world to move you, to keep your mind from going where it shouldn't go.

He kept telling himself it was for the better. His shadows murmured persistent reminders that he should find entertainment in your growing lunacy. He was the radio demon, after all. He shouldn't care if this wisp of a human were to perish, should laugh at your wails of agony and despair.

But Alastor never felt less like laughing. Your dried sobs and pained apologies for things you never did wrong in the first place filled his head, taunting and gnawing on him with feelings he thought he was unable to feel: Guilt and Regret.

It was as Rosie had predicted - he was becoming weak. But weakness was something that should be avoided. Had to be. He knew. Being weak, being feeble, would make him vulnerable, make him into the prey his cruel from already portrayed to the world he had to inherit. He couldn't allow it. Couldn't let his feelings for you bring him down to the levels of the sinners in hell he would tear apart and laugh while he did it.

That's why he stayed silent. Endured it, all of it, every word, cry and plea. Stayed invisible and silent, waiting for you to move on, forget him, shut off and leave the radio, never to turn the dial again. For your sake and his.

When the connection broke, on that eight day, Alastor could feel your resignation, your peace with which your pale hands gripped the electrical cord at it's base to pull. And he was suddenly filled with the awareness of something horrible, like a premonition. It set his already battered, aching heart in an ice cold grasp of dread.

His room exploded in green light as he expanded into his full demonic form, his limbs threatening to pull and burst at the stitches and his smile splitting his face almost entirely in half. He had to reach out, had to reform the connection to the radio one last time, even though nearly impossible.

You were about to do something he would never be able to forgive himself for.

***

Your car broke down just where it needed to. You took the radio out of the trunk, knocking the hood two times for a goodbye, the key safely in the ignition. Maybe some other poor soul would find and repair it, make happier memories with it.

You clutched the wooden device closer and started to walk. Indigo blue faded into black as you looked up to the sky that was sprinkled with glowing, shimmering silver dust, stars blinking in the unimaginable distance. There, but out of reach.

Just like him.

Your dry sob stung in your throat, but you didn't really feel the pain. Your eyes were fixed on the path to your final destination, right in front of you.

The Crescent City Connection Bridge was mostly abandoned by traffic at this time of night and provided just enough covered spaces to hide you from some foolish saviors eyes.

You didn't need to be saved.

You didn't want to be saved.

Because you were about to save yourself.

There was nothing waiting for you in the other direction than the one you were going. So, with slow but steady steps, you walked towards the middle of the bridge, settling on a place next to a metal pillar and looked over the railing onto the shimmering waters of the Mississippi River.

Alastor had told you about the river, how he loved to watch the steam boats floating on it from the radio station where he worked at when he was alive. The station was long gone, you didn't even find out where it had been in the first place, but you liked to imagine that you were looking at the same scenery now that he had been looking at when he peered out of his booth in his radio tower.

It made you smile through the tears... You were glad the end was somehow connected to him, even if it was most likely just your naive imagination.

It felt like the device in your arms was emitting static energy, prickling over your arms, hands and fingers as you caressed the mahogany wood gently, feeling as though the radio was shaking in your hands, trying to pull you back from the fenced ledge.

A quiet sob escaped your lips, turning into a giggle and into hysterical laughter. You sat down between the railing, and hugged the radio close, trying to breathe as you closed your eyes, resting your temple on the worn, warm wood.

"It'll be okay, Al.", you said quietly, your voice unnaturally hoarse and rough from lack of use and dehydration. "I'm coming. I'm coming to you.”

With one arm around the radio, holding it tight against your chest, you turned to stand on shaky legs, gripping the railing with one arm and, with one final glance at the stars above you you smiled. You heard sirens in the distance, and some people shouting from a sparkling streamliner passing under the bridge. Time was running short, so you didn't wait to put first one foot over the fence, then the other, taking a deep breath.

"I guess doves were always meant to fly."

And, with that, your body twisted, turned and leaped, falling as the light on the radio, firmly pressed against your heart, began to glow in deepest crimson and swirls of green.

Falling like an angel would descend from grace.

Part 2 for closure

[lesbianholster]

One day we're going to have to contend with the fact that making fun of people who trigger tag slurs aimed at LGBTQ people is no better than making "lol u triggered snowflake" jokes. Did we just forget that some people have trauma with those words or what

[justarithinnngs]

Spaces. (Squid Game x Player!Reader)

Chapter 1 - Dynasty

Warnings: death (character death), terminal illness, mentions of medical trauma, mental health struggles, emotional distress,

It was a perfect night. The kind that felt like it could stretch on forever—easy, light, and full of laughter. (Y/N) sat at the bar, leaning over to listen to her best friend, Jiwoo, as she rambled on about some guy she’d met earlier that evening. The music was loud, and the chatter was lively, but for a moment, everything felt right. (Y/N) could feel the hum of contentment in her chest, the steady beat of happiness she always found when she was with her friends.

“…And then, I swear, he tried to impress me with some lame pick-up line about my shoes,” Jiwoo laughed, her voice barely audible over the beat of the club. “Like I didn’t know exactly what he was doing.”

(Y/N) giggled, playfully nudging Jiwoo’s arm. “Classic. But hey, at least he tried, right? Most guys wouldn’t even bother.”

Across from her, Soojin joined in, raising her glass and grinning mischievously. “Maybe he thought your shoes were worth impressing. But knowing you, you probably just went along with it.”

(Y/N) laughed again, a soft, genuine sound that could be heard above the noise. It was the kind of laugh that made others smile, the kind that came easily to her. She loved moments like this—being surrounded by her closest friends, the ones who knew her better than anyone. The night stretched on, filled with shared jokes, teasing, and stories. In the midst of all this, (Y/N) was happy. She was light, unburdened, free.

But her friends knew something she didn’t always recognize herself.

“You’re too nice for your own good, you know that?” Jiwoo had said earlier in the night, a serious edge in her voice that was rare for her.

(Y/N) had smiled it off, tossing her hair back. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re always the one to look out for everyone,” Jiwoo had continued, a hint of concern creeping into her tone. “You’re always helping people, always trying to fix things. You need to be careful, (Y/N). It’s gonna catch up to you one day.”

(Y/N) had laughed it off, but deep down, she knew they were right. She was the one always trying to make everyone happy. The one who stayed up late to listen to someone’s problems, who would drop everything to help a friend in need. It wasn’t that (Y/N) minded. She couldn’t imagine being any other way. Her kindness was like a light, and it radiated from her in everything she did.

But now, as the night wound down and she stepped out into the crisp air with her friends, a sudden shift of unease began to settle deep in her gut.

“Are you okay to get home?” Soojin asked, her voice tinged with a touch of concern as she linked arms with (Y/N).

“Yeah, I’m good. Just a little tired, that’s all,” (Y/N) smiled, waving off any worry. “I’ll be fine.”

“Call me when you get home,” Jiwoo added, glancing at (Y/N) with a look that made her hesitate. “We love you, you know that?”

(Y/N) grinned at her friends, pulling them in for a tight hug. “I love you guys too. Now, go home and get some rest. I’ll be fine.”

But the moment she stepped inside her apartment, the weight of everything from the night seemed to press down on her, and she knew something was off. Her phone buzzed as soon as she closed the door behind her.

It was her mom.

(Y/N) had spoken to her mom earlier that day. She’d been worried about her dad, who’d been feeling increasingly unwell. His health had been declining for a while, but they hadn’t been able to figure out what was wrong. At first, they thought it was just stress. Then they thought it was something minor, maybe just exhaustion. But as the weeks went on, things weren’t improving, and now, it felt like the weight of it all was suffocating her.

She answered the call, trying to shake off the remnants of the night’s fun, bracing herself for the conversation.

“Hey, Mom. How’s Dad?” (Y/N) asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

There was a long pause on the other end, and then her mom’s voice came through, softer, more fragile than usual. “Sweetheart… We got the results back.”

The words hung in the air, a sharp sting that immediately made her heart race. “Results? What do you mean? What’s going on?”

Her mom took a shaky breath, and in that moment, (Y/N) felt her entire world tilt. “It’s… brain cancer, (Y/N). Your father… it’s brain cancer.”

There it was. The words hit her like a physical blow. Brain cancer. Those two words, so simple, yet so heavy, dropped like an anchor into her chest, pressing the air from her lungs.

She gripped the phone tighter, her fingers trembling. “No… No, that can’t be right. He’s… he’s been feeling sick, but not like that. Not—Mom, there’s got to be a mistake. Please, tell me there’s been a mistake.”

Her mother’s voice cracked. “I wish it were, honey. I wish it were a mistake. But… it’s not. The doctors—they said it’s advanced. We don’t know how much time we have.”

A hollow silence swallowed the room, and for a moment, (Y/N) couldn’t speak. Her breath came in shallow gasps, and all she could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat, thundering in her ears.

The world outside her apartment, the noise of the city, the memories of the night—everything blurred, faded into a hazy mist. Her heart felt like it was being squeezed in her chest, each beat slower, more painful than the last. Her mind couldn’t grasp what her mom had just said. Brain cancer? Her dad, the man who had taught her to ride a bike, the one who made her laugh so hard she’d cry, the one who held her when she was hurt… he was sick. So sick.

“No…” she whispered, her voice barely audible, cracking under the weight of it all. She sank down onto the couch, the phone still pressed to her ear, the words spinning in her mind like a broken record. No, no, no.

Her mom’s voice came through again, gentle, but full of sorrow. “I know, baby. I know it’s a lot. But we need to be strong now. We need to be there for him.”

(Y/N) shut her eyes, squeezing them tight, as if she could block out the reality of it all. But it didn’t help. It didn’t change anything.

She could feel the spark inside her—her energy, her light—slowly dimming. It wasn’t something that happened all at once. It wasn’t a switch being flipped. It was the slow, agonizing realization that her world had just shifted, irreversibly. She wasn’t the same girl who had been laughing with her friends just hours ago. That girl was gone.

Her voice cracked again, this time louder. “I… I don’t know what to do, Mom. I don’t know what to do.” Tears blurred her vision, and she wiped at her eyes frantically, but they just kept coming. “I can’t lose him. I can’t lose him. Please, Mom, please tell me there’s something we can do.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone, and for a moment, it felt like time itself had stopped. Then, her mom spoke, her voice trembling, but filled with quiet strength.

“We’ll fight, (Y/N). We’ll fight for him. We don’t know how much time we have, but we’ll fight. You’re not alone in this.”

But (Y/N) felt alone. She felt the weight of the world pressing down on her chest, and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t know how to keep going. The energy that had once been so full of life, so vibrant, felt hollow now. Her father, the one person who had always been her rock, was slipping away from her, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Her sobs echoed through the quiet apartment, her body wracked with grief she didn’t know how to handle. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. And she didn’t know how to fight against it.

She couldn’t be strong anymore. Not tonight. Not yet.

[tearwolfe]

i keep going on the weirdest blog rabbitholes. i often check blogs of people in my notifs and that leads me to discovering odd stuff, whether it's the blog itself or from a blog they reposted from/answered an ask from... bizarre.

[vole-mon-amour]

every time I notice artists' (whose art I adore) notice like, "proshippers don't interact", I feel like I have been slapped in the face and personally insulted. you love my favourite character. I love my favourite character. we might even have the same otp. so what are you afraid of?

I mean, I thought we're all adults here? and can see that fiction is fiction and people get to explore things in fiction without harming anybody? and that's the point of fiction because it's fiction? and as long as it's tagged and can be blacklisted, it's fine? also, I thought we had an understanding on our fav character's personality, because they wouldn't discriminate like that?

(Halsin fucked a chimera. he had sex with Astarion (a vampire, which is against all that druids and nature stand for). he doesn't mind having sex in his bear wildshape. dude is naturally curiois. he doesn't care. he understands.)

gosh. the fandom used to be fun and not so sanitized. you guys are just mean.

upd: this is not about a particular fandom, even though I have a couple examples in mind. I encounter this in every fandom & it's exhausting.

[tempus-infinituum]

Cannot believe i’m writing a fic that goes into explicit detail on how obsessed w agatha’s BUSH rio is

[baconcolacan]

hi, currently drawing a comique, and it’s Stay Edd Going Through It <3

[everlasting-rainfall]

hi idk if anyone already asked about this I was wondering what are your thoughts on yandere poly Sanji and Luffy ?

Hello, hello, hello! Nah, I believe that you’re the first one to ask about the two of them together which is by no means a bad thing as I’m really happy that you did, dear!

Honestly I love the idea of Luffy and Sanji together as I’m a big LuSan shipper like I even have a fankid for them but at the same time, I love polyamourous straw hats (minus Chopper as he’s a baby) in general but we’ll save the polyamourous straw hats for another day when I feel more confident about writing them all together

For now! We’ll focus on Yandere Sanji and Yandere Luffy together in a nice happy polyamourous relationship with you!

Let’s get into it, shall we?

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

Kidnapping, Violence, Isolation, Forced Touches, Bathing with a Yandere, SPOILERS FOR WANO, Jealousy, Forced Intimacy

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

So honestly, the two of them together is bound to more than likely be quite chaotic no matter what kind of scenario you might be in like no matter the AU or if there even Yandere’s to be honest

You have Luffy’s chaotic nature that was probably the entire reason that you were snatched up so quickly and taken to the Thousand Sunny to be part of his crew

And then you have Sanji whose an all around gentlemen who was more than likely trying to subtly coerce you into joining the crew before Luffy just snatched you up like it was nobodies business and made you join

Honestly I don’t think that you’re ever going to get any quiet alone time with the two of them as if Sanji isn’t fawning over you and doing anything to make your life just the slightest bit more comfortable then Luffy is there wanting to play a game with you or do something fun in general

You’re never really able to have any quiet alone time and if you somehow manage to find a good hiding spot then it’s not going to last long as they both will be metaphorically ripping apart the ship looking for you until they either find you or a crew mate rats you out

When this happens, you’ll have Luffy’s arms wrapped you multiple times in a hug as he gleefully shouts “Found you!” while Sanji hangs off of you crying asking what he did wrong for you to run away from them like this

If you truly need some alone time though then you could ask Sanji for it, he’ll keep Luffy away from you the best that he can while you take a deep breath and try to enjoy some alone time but don’t expect much as Sanji will constantly be poking his head in to check on you and ask if you need absolutely anything

You can shout at him to leave you alone buh now Sanji looks heartbroken and Luffy is upset with you for making your other partner cry so now you get no alone time and you’re in trouble

In all honesty when it comes to punishing you for being bad then I can honestly imagine that Sanji is much more gentle with what he does like this man can barely bring himself to scold you

While Luffy on the other hand is more willing to punish you like if you’ve done something wrong like attempt to spike the crew’s food with something to give you a better chance at escape from them or made Sanji cry then that’s when he’ll punish you

He will shout at you for doing that and in all honesty, I feel like Luffy despite not being the smartest guy could make you feel absolutely awful for what you did

And if you continue to do stuff like this then I can’t say that you’re not going to wind up in some serious trouble like I’m talking physical punishment

Sanji would never allow Luffy to hurt you in any shape or form so don’t worry but what makes these punishments physical is that it’s basically being locked up in your shared room with them. No interaction with anyone but them

And if you don’t trying to escape after that then say hello to a chain that will keep you bound to their bed until you either have spent enough time in your punishment according to Sanji or until you have shown a genuine change in your behavior

You could try to trick them but I don’t see that going well for you as even if they fall for it, there’s always the chance that once you’re let out. Another member of the crew will point out that nothing has changed and boom!

Right back to punishment…

Also as well I can see like how they met you was probably through typical straw hat stuff like they arrive on an island, they find out there’s a problem typically consisting of corrupt marines or bad pirates then they wind up helping

Maybe like you were someone that the enemy took and is keeping like “Well aren’t you a pretty thing?” or “If anyone tries to fight us then this person is dead!!”

And the person who got them to help was like your friend or something, they showed Sanji and Luffy a picture of you and you know those moments where it’s like love at first sight? That’s what happens for Sanji at least while Luffy does feel drawn to you

After everything is said and done, that’s when they spend some time on the island just chilling and maybe partying too with the islanders as “Woo hoo!! The enemy is gone!! Yay!!” and all that

And it’s during this time is when they’d get closer to you, they’d spend time with you during the party like you’d laugh when Sanji kicks Luffy for stealing your food and when Luffy steals you away from his partner by grabbing you and zipping off

Both are clearly trying to spend as much time as they possibly can with you like it’s so obvious that it isn’t even funny but you don’t pay it any mind other than that you were just a hostage that they had to save and protect so they’re probably just trying to make sure you’re okay

You are correct on that part but you’re missing a few details like them wanting to keep you for themselves and take you on a high seas adventure with them to find the One Piece

If you don’t have any skills then that’s fine by them as Sanji won’t mind a little help in the kitchen now and again especially if it means that he gets to spend more time with you although he is just about doing everything for you

And besides Luffy could always do with another member of Pirate Royalty

So when they leave, that’s when Sanji tries to be all gentlemanly with you and offer you to join the Straw Hats like straight up trying to offer you his arm so you can come with them

If that doesn’t work and you say no then he’ll try to insist but trust me if Luffy gets impatient about you joining then that’s when he’ll swoop in and lift you over his shoulder to rush off

Probably while laughing too

Sanji is honestly the kind of Yandere as well to attempt to win your affections as he sees how you don’t accept his invitations for affection

So this man will definitely try and win you over in whatever way that he can like he is making all of your favorite foods and doing his absolute best to be as romantic as possible with you

Little loving gestures and things like that like he straight up memorizes your schedule to get everything ready for you before you need it like you’ll be heading to get cleaned up and he’ll already be there having drawn a bath

Probably offering to wash your back for you too

If you didn’t know any better then you would say that he wasn’t a Yandere but it’s hard to forget when on the occasion that he takes you off the ship with him, he tries and more than likely succeeds at cracking the skull of any man who speaks to you

If you didn’t hold him back or distract him then he might even take the life of any man who stares at you too long…

Luffy on the other hand probably acts like he already has your affection and love whole heartedly like he doesn’t even seem to realize that you’re fighting him whenever he wraps you up in a hug or tries to plant a messy kiss on the side of your face

He is wholeheartedly convinced that you love him and Sanji just like how they love you, you just don’t show it

Don’t get him wrong though as if you do try to leave them then he’s absolutely not okay with that, he’s still convinced that you love them but you need to be reminded to not leave them and you just need a reminder of where you belong which leads to the punishments

I don’t think Luffy would get too jealous if someone talked to you but he would try to butt into a conversation like throwing his arm around your shoulders in a seemingly playful manner or moving himself to be as in between you and your conversation partner

He will look so offended as well if you move him or remove his arm from you… He’ll also just put his arm right back around you or go right back to where he was

As for intimacy?

God, I wish you luck trying to take the both of them at once as they’re both incredibly strong Pirate men… Sanji won’t be too rough until he really starts getting into it but Luffy is rough enough to compensate

Aftercare is a thing, Sanji’s aftercare is definitely more traditional with cuddles and soft kisses. Probably a bath too but Luffy’s aftercare typically involves getting something good to eat

As for Intimacy in Gear 5? Imagine a giant sun god man with cartoon physics mashing two dolls together to make them have sex… That’s probably what some of it would be like

Other times though, I can imagine that Luffy has you on your knees next to Sanji who’s also on his knees and just licking Luffy’s cock looking totally peaceful with it too

Meanwhile you’re definitely not into this as these are your captors but if push comes to shove and Luffy notices that he isn’t getting as much love from you as he is Sanji

Then he might just shrink his cock down to manageable size and shove it down your throat with a “Stop ignoring me!”