#I like em big I like em traumatized

[acatalystrising]

I had to make it. Had to.

I mean…🥰🫠

[cosmicskittlez]

Yknow going off the bingo jeff the killer thing, I wonder if slender would be more of a morally grey eldritch. He doesn't really understand why his kids murdering is such a big deal but they always seemed so sad when he took them in. He's sad to see them all go, but they smile more than he used to see. Besides, they still visit. They know he'll be in every forest, following them like he used to. And there will always be more broken children.

[inthelittlewood]

im here to provide you with things you have said before

"honestly at this point, how can we describe who owns a horse"

"what is comfort? i'm not entirely sure i know what comfort is"

"you're coming in, and this is exactly what you think it is. i'm making myself as a maid, as a rat. no explanations."

"you don't become a donut and live. i just have to point that out. that doesn't happen."

"even after a world shaking, life threatening situation, i still end up with TWO HERONS ON MY BOAT"

"that was weird, stood on food and ate it. pirate martyn canonically chews through his toes"

"i'm not a jerk after all, i'm just a beta tester"

"cherri's definitely the kind who would just tie me up to a electrified chain fence, let's be honest"

"i like the ass song because it says ass and ass is funny"

"i've got ptfd, post traumatic farm disorder"

"any child left in the small intestine has to stay there"

"those're some big boots to fill, but don't you worry, i've got half a thousand rats to put in em"

"you ever thought to yourself: "man, i'm really hungry for a lilypad right now." i have."

"that's a kaleidoscope of colins, it's a coleidoscope"

enjoy the knowledge that these things have come out of your mouth at some point

Who let's me just livestream whenever I want? It seems very unwise

[spyder-junkie]

EARTH-42 MILES MORALES X READER PART 2

part three ??

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

Honestly the death of his father traumatized Miles.

It taught him to hold on to the things he loves, things that make him happy, because nothing is forever.

And honestly he was looking for something to fill his father’s void, something to satisfy the itch being prowler couldn’t scratch.

So not even two days later, Miles shows up at you window.

He wanted to scope you out, see if you were something he’s like to spend his time on.

With any person hes ever thought of pursuing, the thought of having to tell them hes Prowler loomed over his shoulder.

But you already knew.

Hes dressed normally this time, and hes come at a reasonable hour.

You smile when you see him, opening the window immediately for him to crawl in.

“I aint’ catch you name.” is the first thing he says, dusting off his jeans.

“Y/n.” You reply, sitting down at your desk.

“What can I help you with, Miles?”

He pauses for a moment, almost forgetting what excuse he came up with.

“Check my wounds for me? You wrapped ‘em so well ian wanna unwrap em.” He says, face calm.

You look at him for a moment before shrugging.

“bien, siéntate.” You mumble, going to grab your first aid kit.

“You speak spanish?” Miles asks, sitting down on your bed and pulling his shirt from his body.

The big gash on his side is covered in bandages, blood stained.

“A little, I take a class at school.” You smile, bending down infront of him. He spreads his knees, letting you settle onto the ground infront of him.

He shuts his eyes tight as you unwrap the bandage.

“Thats a pretty chain.” You mumbled, using a cottonball to dab at the wound.

Miles’ hands come to to touch the chain hes wearing. It was one of the many things he half-hazardly bought with his work money.

“Where’d you get it? Ive been looking for something similar.” You ask.

“I honestly can’t remember.” He mumbles, from his tone you could only assume he was telling the truth.

“Thats okay, anyway Youre all good.” You say just finishing his bandages, standing up and putting your things away.

“Oh.” Miles mumbles, not realizing how little time that would take you.

“Anything else I can help you with, Prowler?” He shivers at the way the name rolls off your tongue.

“Guess not.” He says, standing up and walking towards the window. His hands are in his pockets.

He leaves, climbing back out your window and disappearing past the block.

After two days a package shows up at your door.

When you open it, you realize its a chain, identical to Miles’ and brand new.

You giggle a little while clasping it around your neck.

You dont see Miles again for two weeks.

“You know we can just schedule meet ups instead of you showing up to my window at night.” You say, watching as Miles in his normal clothes climbs out if the darkness and into your room.

He ignores your statement, taking his shoes and jacket off and sitting at your desk. He leans back, legs spread wide and eyes closed.

You shake you head, sitting down on your bed and facing him.

“Whats troubling you?” You ask.

“Nothing important.” He says quickly. He opens his eyes and looks at you.

“Youre wearing the chain.” He mumbles.

“Yeah.” You reach up and touch it. “It’s really nice, I thought you didn’t know where you got it from.”

Miles shrugs

“How much was it? I can pay you back-“

“Eres Bonita, you shouldnt have to pay for your own shit.” He cuts you off.

You pause.

“Thank you.” You smile, looking at his hard expression, he nods.

Its silent for a while, Miles just recollecting with his eyes closed.

“Youve been with the cops yet?” He asks calmly. The question startles you.

“…excuse me?”

“You got my name, you know my face, you could rat me out n’ get that reward money.” He says, opening his eyes to look at you.

“is that…what you want me to do..?” You ask, looking at him in confusion.

“Im asking why you haven’t already.” He stated.

“Oh. because I dont want to.”

Miles furrowed his eyebrows.

“I like you, Miles. Plus you helped me out when I needed you. What you do as the prowler doesn’t really concern me.” You say.

Miles stares at you a bit longer, gears turning in his head.

“You can believe me, Im not lying. Now its late, and I am kind of tired. Stay if you want, but my dad usually pops in at 7 to say hes leaving for work.” You say, moving the covers so you could properly get into bed.

You look over at Miles, whos still sitting quietly at you desk.

You lock eyes with him, holding out your hand.

He stares for a while longer, before slowly getting up and sitting on your bed.

He doesn’t get under the coveres, opting to sit with his back against the headboard. He lets you curl up besides him, laying your head in his lap.

His hand ghosts over your shoulder, rubbing soft circles with his thumb as your eyes close.

“Goodnight Miles.”

“…..goodnight y/n.”

When your father wakes you up the next morning as hes leaving, the bed is empty and Miles is gone.

You rub your eyes a little bit, looking to see if he left anything behind.

On your bedside table there was another note.

“ maybe we should schedule meet ups. xxx-xxx-xxxx -miles”

You smile to yourself, immediately putting his number in your phone.

tags:

@caffeine-mess @arachnenotes @erensbbg @nightshxdex @el-chiste @3alvatore @sh-tposter2021 @miatjie @agstuffsworld @ella34435 @iluvdi0r @pulling-out-my-eyes @vakiui @bigpepperpicker @swaggybae @tsukisaiki @osebb

[droserapetals]

Love em’ Toxic

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x (f!)reader

Synopsis: You end the long week of classes with a night out with your best friend, needing a distraction from your busy mind. You’ve been going through a rough and traumatic break up for the last couple weeks, so the break in your schedule is much needed. As you find yourself in a new part of town, you freeze at a familiar face. From that night on you are determined to prove to your ex (and yourself) how “fine” you are without him.

PSA- This is a LONG fic. I’m a whore for plot. You have been warned!

Content: MDNI, DUBCON, fingering, sub!reader, really rough sex, cervix fucking, mentions of pregnancy/impregnating reader, degradation, bondage, name calling (whore/slut), pet names (sweets/love/baby), jealousy, toxic!reader Toji and reader are in their 20’s (reader is in college)… can’t think of any others right now. Sorry if there’s errors! I’m too lazy to proof read this lol

It was a messy break up to say the least

You and Toji were together for two years, and during that time it was nothing short of an emotional roller coaster.

He would yell at you for showing too much skin when you would go out with friends, calling you a slut for attention. Not to mention any sort of male attention directed at you would result in a man wailing on the bar floor with a likely broken nose, and the both of you promptly kicked out of the bar by the owner. Come to think of it, you aren’t sure if there are any bars left that you are not banned from, on behalf of your hot headed ex.

And you would always find girls in his dms, thirsting after him and him letting it happen. When you would bring it up to him, he would dismiss your concerns saying it wasn’t a big deal, but you knew he was the kind of guy that loved the attention of other women, and deemed it okay because he wasn’t actually seeking these women out, therefore it wasn’t wrong in his eyes. Hypocritical if you say so yourself.

You felt yourself going crazy. You feel like you gave him so many chances, so many days where you were patient with him, only for another red flag to spring up, waving directly in your face preventing you from ignoring it.

However, the raw physical attraction between you two was so intense, it kept you reeling into him for more, creating this toxic cycle.

After many nights of crying yourself to sleep, of doubting yourself, you had enough and decided to rip off the band aid, breaking up with him for good.

You can imagine how well that went. It ended with him shouting out your front door that you’ll never find anyone like him and that you are over exaggerating the severity of your guy’s problems. You held firm though and slammed the door in his face, proceeding to block him on every form of social media.

You felt heartbroken, but mostly hopeful after that day. Excited to see what the future will bring for you after this closed chapter in your life.

So why can’t you stop thinking about him?

It’s the worst in the middle of the night, when your tossing and turning trying to feel the warm embrace of sleep take hold of you, when you hear his voice.

“That’s it baby. Say my name louder, I wanna hear it fall from those pretty lips of yours again.”

He’s dragging two of his fingers lazily in and out of you, curling in scissoring in the spots he know will have you mewling in pleasure.

“Yes-haah, Toji. That feels s-so good!” You moan out, bucking your hips into his thick fingers.

He smirks down at you and leans in to lick a stripe up your neck, sucking at the spot in between your jaw and throat, causing you to shiver uncontrollably. Your hands find the back of his head, tugging at the soft strands of hair there.

“Do you like when I have control over you like this? You don’t have to answer that, she’s doing the talking for you.”

He nods down to you pussy, squelching with each thrust of his hand, making the most sinful noises echo off the walls.

Your face flushes at his words, but you feel too good to care. Mind clouded with lust. Instead, you fling your head back into your pillows and let the pleasure consume you whole.

His pace quickens at that, moving at a speed that is making you see stars. Your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Right as you feel your orgasm approaching, you meet the thrusts of his hand quicker. Moaning louder in confirmation.

“You gonna come f’me dirty girl? Make a mess all over my fingers?” He pants out, eyes glazed over at the sight of your beautiful form riding his hand so well.

You furrow your brows and nod frantically, feeling the impending release approaching you at full force.

“Good girl, you just need to do one thing for me.” He whispers in your ear. The low growl in his voice making you whimper.

“I need you to wake up, love.”

You pause for a second and look up at him, confusion etched in your fingers.

“Wha-…”

“WAKE UP Y/N” someone is shaking you, causing your eyes to snap open and sit up from your bed, head spinning from the quick movements. You feel them back away as your vision begins to focus, adjusting to the person in your room.

“You were out like a light, I thought I was going to have to send a marching band in here to wake you up!” Your friend let’s out an obnoxious cackle at that, seeming to note that idea for another day with a hand on their chin.

Shooting dagger her way, you roll your eyes and clear your throat, hoping your face wasn’t too flushed from your quite interesting dream you were having a second ago. After your breakup with Toji you decided to move in with one of your close friends from college. It was perfect actually. She was looking for someone to fill the extra room in her flat, and you were more than eager to fulfill that role. You push yourself on the palms of your hands until the back of you hits your headboard, running your hands through your hair.

“What do you need, Nobara?” You grumble, voice still laced with sleep.

“Well, I didn’t want you to sleep the whole weekend away…” she crosses her arms while arching a brow at you, “and I thought we could maybe do some shopping together for a little… excursion later this evening.” She smirks, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

You’ve taken your breakup overall pretty well, but your friend knows you and how much of a hold Toji had on you, so she’s been a little more attentive than usual with you. Walking with you to your guy’s classes together, having movie nights every Thursday, and even running errands together. She really was a one and a million friend, and you were grateful to have her in your life.

“What did you have in mind?” You fold your arms over your chest, curious but not surprised with her ongoing antics.

“I say we walk around some shops at the outlets for a bit, grab coffee so I can say hi to that tasty barista that is always working there at this time,” you raise an eyebrow at that, but let her continue, “THEN, we can go to that new club that everyone on campus has been talking about tonight!” She’s jumping up and down at that, giddy being an understatement of her actions.

You ponder the idea. you haven’t been out at a club since well before your break up, the thought not even crossing your mind till now.

You friend waits for you to answer, almost vibrating the floor with her excitement.

You can’t help but to giggle at your goofy friend. You get up at that, and start to rummage through your dresser drawer.

“Well let me brush my teeth and get changed first,” you grumble.

You worry that your neighbors might’ve called animal control from how loud Nobara squealed at your answer.

————————————————————————

After an oat milk latte and long shopping spree later, you are in your bathroom touching up your makeup and adjusting your newly purchased outfit in the mirror, getting ready for your girls night out.

Once you finish up you makeup just the way you like it, you give yourself a quick final once over, taking in your look.

Your hair was done in a half up half down look, some strands of hair let out to frame your face. The dress itself, was stunning. It was a deep fig color that shimmered in the right lighting, complimenting your complexion perfectly. Under that were some sheer black tights, and a pair of black kitten heels to tie it all together.

You looked sultry, classy, and sexy all in one.

You would’ve never chose this outfit for yourself if Nobara hadn’t been there hyping you up in the dressing room saying, “this dress fits you in all the right places” and “you better get this if you know what’s good for you”. You chuckle at the flashback. Making a mental note to thank her later. Because looking at yourself now, you can’t even lie. You look tasty as fuck.

————————————————————————

It’s 10p.m. now as you and Nobara exit your Uber to find yourselves in the heart of the city's nightlife, a couple buildings over, a sultry club beckons with its alluring aura.

You have heard of this club from others before, but have never been because of its high status and reputation, and deemed it an unobtainable feat to accomplish securing a reservation this high of caliber.

You both start walking to the front of the long line of the club, it’s entrance bathed in soft red neon lights. You can already hear the pulsating beat of music reverberating through the air, and into your chest. As you both make your way to the front towards the bouncer standing guard at the door, heels clacking on the concrete, you can’t help but notice in your periphery the many annoyed faces and grumbles of frustration from the people waiting in line for who knows how long.

“What are we doing, shouldn’t we get in line-“ you hiss in Nobaras ear as she drags you by you arm to the entrance, having a look of unbridled determination on her features.

“Fuck that, we’re young and hot, let’s use that to our advantage for once.” She smirks over her shoulder at you, causing you to roll your eyes with a hint of a smirk on your features.

Once you make it to the bouncer, you friend does the talking, giving her best clueless expression at the man in front of you two.

“Sorry to bother you, handsome. Our friend is waiting for us inside ordering drinks right now. They said it wouldn’t be a problem if we just met em inside…” she twirls a finger around a strand of hair as she batts her eyelashes up at him, waiting for his response.

He looks at you both up and down amused, but with a tinge of hunger in his eyes, most likely covered up by false professionalism for the sake of his job. You try not to scoff or squirm under his stare as his eyes briefly land on yours for a split second. In that moment you weren’t sure if your friend’s fabricated story worked or not. It was a clumsy one at that. You bite your lip in anticipation.

Not a moment later he gives you both a kurt nod and lifts up the rope, allowing you two to pass through into the main entrance. After getting out of view, you can’t help but to gawk at your friend at the fact that her plan actually worked. She looks back at you with slight surprise gleaming in her eyes as well, but that quickly became replaced with a wide grin on her features as you both make your way to the bar, arms linked together.

“I’m not even sure he believed that,” you laugh as you both sit down on a couple stools, quickly giving your drink orders to the bartender who skillfully begins to make quick work on both of your drinks.

That is when you finally glance around the room.

The air is thick with the faint smell of smoke, and a musk of cologne and perfume as bodies sway and grind to the seductive rhythm of the music, creating a hypnotic dance that mirrors the pulsating beats. Soft, dim lighting casts a sensuous glow, revealing the contours of flushed faces and glistening skin. The dance floor becomes an intimate space where desire and movement entwine, and the bar, adorned with mirrored accents, reflects the seductive energy that permeates the atmosphere. It's a scene drenched in allure, where the music becomes a shared heartbeat, and every glance exchanged carries the promise of untold stories.

You, with a lack of experience in this type of scenery, find yourself oddly at home with this crowd of people. Fitting in like an unknowingly lost puzzle piece. Your lips tug up in a small smile at that.

At that moment the song changes and you are met with one of your favorite songs gracing your eardrums. You and Nobara both make eye contact at the same time, squealing, grabbing each others hand and using you other to snatch your drinks of the counter, and make your way onto the dance floor.

Little do you know, leaning against a particularly dark wall of the building, a pair of predatory green eyes settle on your periphery, gleaming in the dim lighting.

You find yourself getting lost in the music, caressing your body up and down swaying to the rhythm. You were already starting to feel buzzed from your drink, now empty, discarded on an unoccupied table. You have always been a lightweight, but you are also pretty sure that the drinks here were extra strong, adding to your growing confidence.

Before you know it Nobara is being whisked away from you by a good looking man, not before she gives you a look that clearly asks if this is okay. You smirk and wave her off, wanting her to have as much fun tonight as possible.

As you turn back around scanning the area, you freeze a little in place. Over in one of the private seating areas you make eye contact with a familiar face.

There Toji is, legs spread cockily in the booth he resided in, arms resting on the top ledge of the seats as he leers over at you with a smirk playing on his features.

He’s not alone though. Two women in scantily clad attire are on either side of him, rubbing his chest and giggling at something he said. Clearly intoxicated themselves.

You surprisingly don’t feel as distraught as you may have guessed at the sight. Mostly just smoldering anger and disgust.

You then look away, but not before you see his eyes flicker into an expression you don’t recognize as you make your way into the dance floor once again. You scan your surroundings and find a man sitting by himself, already noticing you early in the night when you entered the place. You can tell by the way the man squirms in his chair that he is enamored by you. You let a slight smirk play on your lips as you walk up to him, hips swaying as you do so.

He noticeably gulps and tugs at his collar as you lean over him. Hands resting on either of his armrests caging him in. God you were buzzed.

Toji is seething in rage at the sight before him. Your breath ghosts against the stranger’s ear as you whisper something way out of his earshot. The man fidgets in his seat and nods, causing you to let out a wide grin as he gets up and walks with you back onto the dance floor.

Another one of your favorite songs starts playing, causing you to press up against the man’s back, grinding softly against him to the beat in perfect rhythm.

The man (you quickly find out is named Yuuji) slides his hands down your body, gaining courage himself, grabbing your waist with one and the other ghosting over your rib cage.

You softly keen into his touch as one of your hands reaches up to fist into his hair, bringing his head down to nibble on your neck.

Your eyes glaze over as you stare at Toji, mouth parted open in bliss that quickly turns into a smirk as you see him lean forward, causing the girls by him to jump, as he stares back at you. Gripping the table in front of him enough to snap it in half.

Fueling you further, you break the eye contact to turn around, facing Yuuji now. The movement giving him better access to your neck as his hands travel down to rest on the small of your back, dragging slow circles with his thumbs around the flesh.

You whimper in his ear causing him to groan in reply.

“You are… unreal,” he breathes into your neck. Causing a faint blush to form on your cheeks as he worships your body on the dance floor.

You notice his eagerness escalating when you feel something poke into your lower belly, causing you to snap back to reality slightly. You weren’t ready to hook up with someone else, even though Yuuji seemed like a sweet guy. You still need time to get over your ex (that is currently sitting in a void of darkness while watching your every movement) so you kindly excuse yourself to the bathroom, giving him a polite and shy smile, scurrying away, leaving him with an uncomfortable hard on on the dance floor.

You eventually find the restrooms, opening the door and quickly shutting it behind you as your back rests against the door with a huff. With a quick scan of your surroundings you realize the bathroom is empty, thank god.

What am I doing? You ask yourself, making your way to the sink and staring at your features, casted in a red glow from the light overhead. You don’t know what has came over you. You swear Toji brings out the literal worst in you. No wonder why you two are split up. Your fists clench around the counter, glaring in your reflection as you think back to the scene you saw outside just a second ago.

He was always shaming you for being a slut while you were together and not even two weeks after your separation, you catch him here with two bimbos fawning over him and copping a feel? You scoff and shake your head, reaching into your purse to re apply more of your lip gloss, leaning forward a little to get a better look.

Too focused on the task at hand, you don’t notice someone entering the bathroom until you hear the music getting louder for a moment before the door closes, muffling the sound again.

What does peak your interest is the sound of metal sliding then clicking, indicating someone has locked it.

You pause what you’re doing and look past your reflection at the pair of eyes that have narrowed in on your plump lips, then slowly dragging back over to your face. Realizing who it was, you gasp faintly and stand up straighter, tugging your dress down subconsciously.

“The fuck was that?” Toji growls as he inches closer to you, causing you to tremble slightly in fear.

You reign your emotions in check, and scoff at him, not even bothering to look back at him as you apply your shimmery gloss.

“I don’t know what you mean, I’m just enjoying my night out.” you state matter of factly.

“You think you can just parade around like a common whore in that tight dress of yours and feel up whoever you want now that we’re not together?” He is seething now. Seeming to visualize earlier’s endeavors quite clearly still.

“I’m wearing a lot more than those tramps you had dangling off your shoulders a second ago.” You state coldly. “I see you’re still on your high horse thinking you’re better than everyone else.”

His mouth curls up in a silent snarl as he closes the distance between you two, his hard chest pressing into your back as your hips bite into the counter. You wince slightly at the contact.

“You keep your dirty mouth shut if you know what’s good for you,” he hisses. Leaning down so his hot breath is fanning against the shell of your ear.

“You are mine. No matter what. You can be delusional and convince yourself that we are not right for each other, but I find myself to be quite convincing.”

You shudder as you feel his hand graze up your inner thigh, stopping just before brushing against your clothed cunt.

“Hm. Already wet for me huh? And I barely even touched you,” he smiles harshly at your flushed expression in the mirror, his other hand gripping your hip in a vice. Stilling your movements. You know you couldn’t get away if you even tried.

“That is from the guy on the dance floor earlier-” you gasp.

Quicker than anything you’ve seen before, Toji’s giant hand is around your throat, his body pushing you over the counter as his other hand rips your tights and underwear off in one swift motion and then plunges two fingers into you without warning.

You bite your lip but a squeak escapes your mouth as you start to feel light headed. Partly from the stinging pleasure of your walls being stretched so suddenly and partly from his bruising grip on your jugular.

Toji notices and loosens his grip slightly.

“Nuh-uh. Don’t want you passing out on me. I want you to be awake and aware for what I’m about to do to you.” He chuckles darkly as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you teasingly, pausing every now and then to curl or make a scissoring motion.

Right when the pain molds into heated pleasure, he withdraws his fingers from you, bringing his fingers up to inspect, glistening with your juices.

You wiggle in his grip as he brings his fingers to your mouth.

“Suck,” he orders.

You turn you head to the side but his hand around you neck moves to your jaw to turn it back towards him, forcing your mouth to open and plunging his fingers inside.

“Lick them clean for me, slut. And if you even think of biting I will go a lot less easy on you.” He warns, eyes daring you to even try.

You slowly drag your tongue over his digits and suck on his fingers as you taste yourself, glaring at him through hooded eyes.

“Good girl,” he muses. A feline like grin spreading over his features. He then uses that hand to reach down between you two, and you hear the sound of his belt buckle loosening and his zipper opening up.

“N-no,” you whimper. Trying to gasp out the word over your constricted airways. Even though the thought of him barreling into you right now made you weak just thinking about it, you knew that if you two fucked, you would be roped in to his toxic cycle once again. And you were doing so good, you didn’t want that.

“What’s that sweetness? Can’t hear ya.” He chuckles darkly. Dragging his leaking tip over your drenched folds.

Your thighs quiver at the sensation. Eyes locking with his as he slams himself into you without warning.

You let out a high pitched scream that he quickly silences by wrapping his belt around your mouth, securing it around your head.

You had no choice but to bite into the leather and roll your eyes into the back of your head as he slams into you at a brutal pace. Only able to hear your muffled wails and the sound of skin slapping echoing off the bathroom walls.

“Shit, she feels tighter than before. Need to get this pussy molded to my cock again,” He grunts, putting you in a firm headlock as he holds the strap of his belt around your head, causing you to drool around the leather.

His eyes flicker to yours as his gaze deepens in rage. “You nasty bitch. Trying to make me jealous by feeling up the first guy you saw out there? Well look where that got you now.” He growls in your ear, biting your earlobe.

You could barely hold yourself up, your hands gripping his biceps and digging into the flesh there. He groans at the sensation.

He doesn’t let up. The stinging pain almost fueling him further as his length slams into your walls, nudging your cervix with every stroke.

You start to feel you orgasm barreling at you with full force, your walls starting to clench around his cock causing him to thrust into you shallower, hitting that spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

“Cumming already sweets? How cute. Missed daddy’s cock that much huh?” He leans back to get a better view of your ass, fully exposed from your dress riding up at his menstruations. The hand that is behind your head, fisting the leather belt pushes you down so that your face is smushed onto the counter, smearing your tears and makeup on the surface along with it.

His other hand palms your ass, then gives it a harsh smack, causing you to let out a long moan as your orgasm crashes down on you, sending waves of pleasure over your body.

He uses the belt to yank you up so that he could watch you come undone. Chest pressed against your back as he slides your dress down your torso, exposing your bouncing tits to him in the reflection of the mirror. He slows down his movements slightly to take you in better.

Your tears and drool made a mess of your makeup. Mascara was running down your cheeks as a light sheen of sweat covered your whole body from the exhaustion.

“What a pretty thing. None of these girls compare to you, you know. Not in the slightest.” His hand grazes your cheek almost lovingly, causing your to whimper at the contact. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

His pace quickens once again and you feel his cock throbbing at his impending release. Your eyes widen as you realize that he has no intentions of pulling out of you.

“Gonna fill this pretty pussy up with my cum, yeah? Gon’ put a kid in you so you never leave me again,” he’s babbling to himself. Completely loosing his mind in pleasure. His thrusts become sloppy indicating how close he is. Then he gives out a final sharp thrust as he stills inside you, sheathing himself as deep as he can go, throwing his head back with a groan as his warm seed spills inside of you.

It doesn’t seem to end. You feel your stomach swell slightly as he fills you up, leaning down as he lazily drags his tongue over the length of your neck, the salty sweat coating his tastebuds.

Eventually he pulls out of you with a pop, and drops to his knees, inspecting the damage. Some of his cum begins to trickle out of your quivering hole, but he’s quick to scoop it up with his pointer and middle finger to sheathe it back inside you, not letting any of it go to waste.

You are still panting, cheek resting on the cool counter as he removes the belt from your mouth and tugs his slacks back on, buttoning them up.

“Don’t think you can get rid of me that easily,” he says with a sneer. “I’ll be seeing you very soon.”

At that he unlocks the door and slips out without a word, leaving you in a mess of fluids and sweat. Legs quivering slightly as they try to hold you up.

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Y’all are the best. Seriously. I love y’all. One quick note: if y’all reblog, please include the tag “#if I should stay” (mind the capital i) so people can find the rest of the parts! Thanks so much!!! ❤️

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Eddie does end up following Robin because he does not, in fact, have a death wish.

Even if, apparently, he dies in the future. Go figure.

She instructs him to grab his guitar. “Why in the fuck,” he starts, then reconsiders when Robin whips around to stare at him. “Anyone ever tell you you’re terrifying?”

Robin shrugs a shoulder. “Not as much as they should.”

She stashes her bike in the back of his van and directs him to the Harrington residence, where Steve’s waiting, arms crossed, wondering smile on his face. “Miracle worker,” he calls, and Robin laughs as she grabs her bike from the back.

“Hate to break it to ya, Dingus, but you’re just not scary.”

“I’m plenty scary. I’ve got a nail bat.”

“Right, because that would beat Nance’s sawed-off in a fight.”

“Hey, it could! You never know! They’ve got different ranges!”

Robin rolls her eyes at Eddie, like she’s asking if he can believe it, which. No. No he can’t.

“Sorry,” he says, regretting everything when they both look at him. “What the actual fuck is happening?”

“Come inside,” Steve says, suddenly all business. “We’ve got a lot to discuss.” His eyes find Robin’s. “One of ‘em took Barb last night.”

“Fuck,” Robin whispers.

“Yup. Will’s been missing for two days. Maybe, if we get down there soon enough…”

“Let’s hope so. Which one of the rugrats found El?”

“I think they all did? But Mike’s the one who took her in.” He shakes his head, mouth a grim line. “I saw Dustin today. They’re kids, Robs.”

“So are we,” she reminds him, heaving a tired-sounding sigh. “A buncha kids fighting real-life monsters.”

“Monsters?” Eddie parrots.

Somehow they end up inside while Steve goes to pick up the Party. Who the party is, Eddie doesn’t know. Just like he doesn’t know why he’s in Steve’s Harrington’s house with someone who isn’t Steve Harrington.

“Who’s the Party?” He asks Robin. “And why am I here again? If I die, doesn’t that mean I shouldn’t be here? Should be somewhere far, far away instead?”

“The Party’s a group of kids Steve babysits. They’re the first ones to go through this whole mess. And admittedly, you’re here partially because you can help, and partially for selfish reasons.” She offers him a lopsided grin. “Believe it or not, watching you die was kinda traumatic.”

“Right,” he says slowly. “And you and Steve? How do you know each other? He and Nancy Wheeler are the talk of the town, and if he’s stepping out-”

“He wouldn’t,” she says harshly. “Ever.” She takes a breath. “Two years from now, or a year ago, he and I work together in a mall. Long story short, we get captured and tortured by Russians. High on truth serum, I tell him I’m a lesbian in the bathroom, we help take down the big bad, and boom. Instant platonic soulmates.”

Eddie gapes at her. “What the fuck.”

“Just about,” she nods. “Oh, and the kids love D&D, so you’ll have plenty to talk about. They’re little shits but they’re also kinda great once you get to know them.”

Eddie stares at her. The front door opens, and Steve walks in, followed by a gaggle of preteens and Nancy Wheeler.

“Robs,” Steve says, not slowing his stride as he begins taking the stairs two at a time. “Bathroom. Now.”

Robin grimaces. “Breakdown time,” she murmurs to Eddie, then follows Steve, leaving everyone else staring at each other.

“So,” Eddie says. “I heard you like D&D?”

A dark-haired kid who looks suspiciously like Nancy narrows his eyes. “You play?”

“Play!” Eddie repeats. “I don’t just play, my young friend, I am the greatest Dungeon Master this side of the Mississippi.”

A curly-haired kid begins to grin. “I think we should put that to the test.”

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[rainbowsnowcone]

😔😞

(My dumb negative opinion. You have been warned.)

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

One day S/O comes up to the skelly and tells em that he’s gonna be a father. And before anything more can be said, S/O pulls out a puppy from behind their back. Dog parents

Undertale Sans - You can see the brief panic in his eyes before his sockets land on the puppy. He's so relieved and so happy. Sans loves dogs, and that's a long time he's planning to get one. The puppy is getting squished between you two as he grabs you to kiss you. Also, he kidnaps the puppy and goes to cuddle in the couch. You're not getting the puppy back tonight lol. Or him by the way.

Undertale Papyrus - He blinks, quite in shock. He didn't expect this, but oh well! Papyrus is unsure about the dog at first, claiming it's a lot of work, but man, the second he realizes he has a buddy to run in the morning without needing to wait for Undyne to wake up, he's the happiest man on Earth.

Underswap Sans - His mind exploded the second you said he was going to be a father. When you pull out the dog, he's so confused. What? Sorry, he didn't hear any of the things you just said, he's literally traumatized. He grabs the dog and squishes him against him to calm down. Jeez, don't scare him like that! ... Wait a second, you have a dog?!

Underswap Papyrus - What a rollercoaster. He thought he was finally going to be a dad, then screamed when he saw the puppy, then got sad because you're actually not pregnant, then screamed again when he realized he's holding a big fur baby and he's so happy! He's not sure what he's feeling anymore, but he's very happy to have a dog.

Underfell Sans - "got a mutt? why?" He's that guy who doesn't want the dog at first, but then the puppy becomes obsessed with him, and in less than two days he's a dog guy. Red is too soft to resist the puppy. The guy even bought pink little dresses for his new baby girl. What you're going to do?

Underfell Papyrus - Betrayal. You dare to take that thing home when he has a cat already? What are you trying to do? Get rid of Doomfanger? Because he won't! He takes his baby girl and growls at you and your mutt. In the morning, you find him sleeping in the couch with the puppy and the cat because the dog cried during the night and Edge couldn't bear letting him all alone in the dark. Yeah. The dog is adopted.

Horrortale Sans - Oak boops the puppy nose. "smol." He's madly in love with the puppy, and protective. That's his puppy. He needs to protect. No one gets close to his baby (except S/O). He loves dogs, he loves all animals really. He's happy.

Horrortale Papyrus - "OH COME ONE, WE ALREADY HAVE A LOT OF ANIMALS IN THE FARM. THIS IS TOO MUCH." "Oh... Ok, I can bring it back if it..." "ABSOLUTELY NOT, IT'S OUR DOG." You don't send the new baby back to prison. But please... Warn him next time, so you can discuss it before? It's a big responsibility.

Swapfell Sans - Uh. When he said he wanted an heir, he didn't think about that. But oh well, it will have to do. He's calling his dog Hellbringer and he will raise him like a Lord of Darkness even though the dog can barely understand the sit command. At least it's entertaining.

Swapfell Papyrus - He squeaks like a toy. That's his newest superpower. It drives the dog crazy. You're going to hear this squeak a hell lot in the next few years. He never gets bored of it, unlike you. But it's not like you can do anything to stop him either. Deal with it. He's an annoying squeak toy now.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He hyperventilated when you said he's a father, and even more when you showed him the dog. He's not an animal person. He's actually not a baby person either. He's both relieved you're not pregnant and horrified you brought a filthy mutt inside his spotless house. He doesn't have a choice to get used to it. He likes the dog from far away. At least Coffee is happy.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He's overexcited. He wants a dog for a long time but Wine always said no. It's his childhood dream becoming true right now. He jumps at your neck and kisses you everywhere, crushing you in a hug. He's so happy, you can't even know how much he wanted that.

[luffyrose]

Dc x Dp Random Blurp #1

I know I've got more than one before this but these are the ones I probably won't ever write so feel free to take them and run with em-

~~~~

So we all know Dick (you can probably all guess that Dick and Jason are my fav bat kids with how much I talk about them lmao) has lotta trauma in general. In the general canon we all follow for like fics and stuff though, there's one thing I think most people don't put into their fics and stuff and I had an idea with Danny being kinda adopted/brother-napped by Dick involving it.

The thing?

Falling.

Someone he loves falling and he's not able to help. Sure he's spooked his family as a joke pretending to fall off things. But here's the thing, they all KNOW that they'll all find a way to catch themselves.

But what if Dick had gotten a harsh hit from whatever rogue decided to play whack-a-mole with the birds and when he saw a kid on the roof where they were fighting (idk why they're up there, ask the riddler or two face or whoever-) and his already slightly concussed brain starts to work overtime.

The kid is on a roof, which is already a bad sign! The kid looks kinda...strike that a LOT like Jason before he died? Even worse!

So when whatever stray attack ends up sending the kid tumbling over the edge, Dick is literally milliseconds behind him. It's not a tall roof, and even if Danny was a full human, he likely wouldn't have suffered too badly from the fall if he didn't land completely wrong.

Probably.

Reason Danny isn't flying? Something triggered his fight or flight and his body chose to freeze this time, falling did not help that. Maybe it's the Joker doing all this, we love clown trauma.

Either way, Dick is oh so quickly grabbing this random kid who he can only register as Tiny Jason he had failed to be a good big brother tm too, and is literally just taking the impact of the fall in favor of ensuring Danny didn't get hurt AT ALL.

Danny is now emotionally attached whether he likes it or not because hey! A random hero saved him and is still hugging him and he feels like safety, so he will cling on just as hard, and no Jazz! He definitely isn't crying-

Dick refuses to let go of the kid, muttering apologies to Jason, which the others are pretty quick to realize why when they see the kid's face. It's a whole mess. Partially because they have a delirious Dick who won't let go of this random child and said child hisses at them when they try to get him off just as much.

For a lil extra spice you could make it that Danny and Jason are related somehow and Jason upon seeing the kid both KNOWS they're similar and recognizes him as his kid brother and is just like "Oh god- oh god he's alive(questionable) and traumatized(definitely)-"

[prythianpages]

Give 'Em Hell | Part Two

beron's daughter OC x eventually Azriel | Beron Vanserra is a man with many sinful secrets but there is one that desires to punish him. His daughter. His true firstborn and heir to the Autumn Court.

Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Some of the country folk of Autumn are protesting Beron's rule and there is talk of rebellion. The Phoenix. And Beron begins to wonder if the enemy is among his inner circle.

Warnings: bullying, violence, harsh insults thrown oc's way/ brief mentions of sexual assault (groping)

A/N: I'm so sorry this took me forever to update. This has been in my drafts since November omg. I got this idea/motivation to write this at a time where I was at the peak of my female rage lol and now things in my life are better. However, I did always want to write a character who is "evil." Using quotation marks because that's still up to be decided on. For this OC, I'm drawing huge inspiration from Game of Thrones, especially with Daenary's character. Also, I know that birth order does not dictate who inherits the title High Lord but in this fic and probs in canon too, Beron hates the idea of Autumn having a High Lady.

Sometimes memories are the worst form of torture. 

Deaths, heartbreaks and traumatic events may pass but the memory lives on, lingering like a haunting and tormenting spirit. The Pryalis family has been threatened to become a distant memory, torturing the remaining patriarch of what was once.

Once a strong and powerful big household, the Pryalis family was now reduced to just one. Edmund Pryalis. Or so he thought.

Among the wreckage of his beloved son’s home, remained a young female. She had been found, a couple of feet away from the house at the edge of the surrounding forest, with signs of struggle etched onto her pale body, bruised and scarred. She had been trembling and terrified when Edmund had approached her, demanding to know who she was and what had happened. He had not been prepared for the words that had broken off from her quivering lips.

She was his son’s bastard daughter. His bastard granddaughter.

Edmund had not questioned it. His son was known for being disloyal to his wife. It was inevitable to not sire a bastard child and if his son’s scandalous endeavors were not enough to convince him, the female strongly resembled his late wife and daughter with her sun-kissed auburn hair, high cheekbones and striking eyes. However, the color of her eyes were not the infamous emerald green the Pryalis family was known for but a chestnut brown instead.

If it weren’t for the deaths of his son and family, his heirs, he would’ve done Prythian a favor and rid it of one more bastard. But he didn’t. He refused to allow the Pryalis name to fade into memory and so now there were two.

“May their ashes rise and flames persist in eternity.”

The air carried the scent of damp earth as the leaves rustled with the wind, whispering their final farewells to the departed souls resting beneath. Edmund pulled his gaze from the tombstone below and to the young weeping female. He gestured for her to follow him and they silently made their way to the entrance of the cemetery, where a carriage awaited them.

As Edmund placed a foot on the carriage step, a sudden realization compelled him to pause. There was one more question he had yet to ask of his bastard granddaughter. “What is your name?”

“Emilia.” The female had replied.

And if Edmund had bothered to turn around, he would’ve caught the flames flickering in her eyes.

**

“Two will soon become three until there are finally eight but one will not be true to you and only one shall come to be.”

Beron found himself surrounded by the weight of the soothsayer’s prophecies, uttered nearly three centuries past, as he surveyed the grandeur of his Autumn Court's council chamber. There was more truth to the soothsayer’s words than he’d like to admit. To his left, his four eldest sons occupied their appointed seats, a testament to the continuation of his lineage. On his right, the key figures of his advisory council – chief advisor, spymaster, master of coin, and army commander – assumed their positions

His two younger sons were away, honing their skills in the art of war, preparing for a future fraught with uncertainties. And Lucien…

Well, Lucien was doing everything a High Lord’s son probably shouldn’t and Beron couldn’t bring himself to care for it at this moment. There were other pressing matters to attend to.

"Mistwood grows restless," Fenrik, the spymaster, began cautiously. "Whispers of an uprising persist, and while rumors can be as fleeting as the wind, this tale echoes persistently…”

Beron's piercing gaze bore into Fenrik, a silent command for the truth to be unveiled. 

“I am uncertain whether it is a person or a group but there's mention of a Phoenix. A harbinger of a brighter tomorrow. Faced with the specter of an impending famine, some villagers may be swayed to rebellion against our presence."

A tense silence falls upon the room as Fenrik’s words hang in the air like a foreboding mist. That is, until Eris, the heir to the Autumn Court, decides to break it.

“Perhaps, we should provide them with enough sustenance to quell their thirst to riot,” Eris suggests, his voice resonating with wisdom beyond his years. Beron should be proud but instead, his eyes narrow as he assesses the situation.

“Gain their trust so they remain loyal to you, High Lord,” Edmund, Beron’s chief advisor, agrees as he waves his hand, beckoning his cupbearer forward.

Eris’s eyes widen ever so slightly, lifting his gaze toward Edmund. It’s the first time the two have ever been in agreement. He then turns his head toward Edmund’s cupbearer, a spark of curiosity flashing in his amber eyes. 

As the cupbearer delicately pours a substance, presumably more potent than wine given its acrid scent, Eris can’t help but wonder why Edmund subjects his own granddaughter to a servant role when she is beyond the age of marriage. Granted, Emilia is a bastard. But still his blood nonetheless. His only blood.

Edmund brings his cup to his lips and takes a swig. He sputters almost immediately, throwing his chalice to the floor and drawing everyone’s attention to him. The dark crimson liquid splatters onto the floor, staining the soft fabric of his granddaughter's dress. Emilia shrinks back, fear flashing across her features as Edmund shifts toward her with a scowl.

“This is not what I asked of you!” He seethes with furrowed eyebrows. “I asked for the russet elixir, not this.”

 “I’m sorry, grandfather. I thought this was the russet elixir.”

Emilia drops her gaze, a frown tainting her soft features, as she presents the bottle of liquor to him. It is clearly labeled as crimson nectar. “You imbecile. Go back to your station,” Edmund orders hastily, no longer desiring a drink.

“Illiterate bastard,” Hunter mutters under his breath with a chuckle, elbowing Eris.

Eris does not humor his brother. Though his fingers tense around his own chalice, he maintains a stoic silence, his gaze following Emilia. She retreats to her designated place in the council chamber, head bowed low. Her silhouette merges seamlessly with the servants clustered around the table of refreshments.

“Let them starve.”

Eris’s gaze shifts back toward his father and he swears his heart skips a beat.

“But my High Lord–”

“I refuse to feed the mouths of potential traitors,” Beron interrupts his spymaster sharply yet his gaze is focused upon Eris, brown eyes shimmering with disappointment. “The seed for rebellion has already been planted. It does not matter if I send them sustenance or not, they may still revolt. I’ll turn the town of Mistwood into a lesson.”

Beron then rises to his feet, signaling that he will hear no more from his council for today. “Anyone who lends credence to this alleged Phoenix shall be branded as traitors and punished. No exceptions.”

Beron strides out of the room, the council trailing in his wake. Eris, however, lingers, reluctant to vacate his seat. He prods the inside of his cheek with his tongue, stomach filling with dread from the look Beron had given him before leaving. He sits there for what feels like an eternity but given the fact that some of his brothers remain, harassing Edmund’s poor granddaughter, it couldn’t have been for too long.

When Eris rises from his seat, he catches a glimpse of Oliver, his younger brother, trailing a hand a little too low down Emilia’s body. From where Eris stands, he could see Emilia’s every muscle tense under the unwanted touch and harsh words whispered into her ear. Yet, Emilia remains quiet, her gaze fixed forward, even as Oliver finally frees her of his torment. 

Silver lines her dull brown eyes and Eris can’t help but pity the female. He knows the look on her face all too well. It's a reflection of the emotions he often carries within himself. Hatred. Fear. Anger. 

The room is quiet, save for the measured cadence of Eris’s footsteps. They come to a stop right before Emilia, causing her brown eyes to widen in surprise. Still, she remains steadfast in avoiding eye contact with Eris.

“Lord Eris,” she addresses him, her voice a masterclass in practiced restraint, as though she has honed it over centuries of servitude.

“We should arrange for someone to teach you how to read.”

Emilia blinks, caught off guard and for a fleeting moment, vulnerability flickers in her dark eyes. It’s not the first time Eris has been kind yet she still can’t comprehend why he continues to express concern for her. She hesitates before regaining her composure and slowly lowers her gaze.

“Grandfather says reading will only taint the female’s mind and that I do not need to know how to read in order to fulfill my duty.”

“And what duty is that exactly?”

“I’m the last Pyralis female. I’m sure you can take a guess, my lord.”

Eris exhales heavily, as if he too was wearied by the harshness of her world. “Suit yourself then.”

For centuries, the Pyralis family stood as a formidable force, characterized by its size and strength. Even amidst the transformative shift in magical favor that propelled the Vanserra family to High Lordship, the Pyralis clan endured without faltering. True to their name, they rose from the ashes, mirroring the resilience of the Phoenix they were named after. They maintained their high status in politics, taking on the role as the Vanserra’s chief advisors. Speculation lingered that the only force capable of bringing down the Pyralis family was the family itself.

The Pyralis family's decline began long before Eris’s birth. Still, he couldn't help but reflect on the strange sight of witnessing such a once-mighty and expansive lineage reduced to a mere two living members.

 It made him worry if the same grim fate would befall upon his own family.

**

“Mother’s tits, what happened to you?”

“Your brothers,” is all Emilia says followed by a huff, the small gust of frustration sending the dark red fringe framing her face tumbling forward like a curtain of shadows. Weariness etches across her features, shoulders slumping, allowing a glimpse beyond the facade she meticulously maintains.

Lucien furrows his brow in concern and gently reaches out to tuck the loose strand behind her ear. “You look like you’re in need of a pick me up,” he remarks, his russet eyes lighting up at the idea. “A little trip to Thornwood might lift your spirits.”

Emilia pauses, narrowing her eyes slightly. “I’m sure it’ll lift other things too.”

Lucien laughs, his lips twitching upwards into a grin.  Though Thornwood sounds like a good idea, given the hard day she had, she recognizes why Lucien is more than eager to go. She knows him too well. As they step out of the forest house, he hooks his arm through hers and winnows them both to Thornwood before she could even question if it was safe to do so, given the current volatile state of the neighboring town, Mistwood.

Thornwood is a breath of fresh air.

Both Lucien and Emilia feel a sense of comfort as they fall into step beside each other. Lush orchards and vineyards surround the small town nestled in the countryside of Autumn, their branches heavy with golden and crimson fruits. They walk along the cobblestone pathways, leading to a central square where various vendors are selling goods. Residents, adorned in cozy layers to protect from the autumn winds, go about their daily routines with a sense of unhurried contentment.

An elderly female rests against the weathered water well, rattling a worn cup that holds a few gold marks toward any passersby. As Emilia walks by, the female’s eyes follow her and with a sudden urgency, she rattles her cup harsher.  

“Something wicked this way comes,” she mutters, the words slipping from her cracked lips like an ominous whisper carried by the wind. “Something wicked this way comes…”

With a glare directed at the older female, Lucien steps around Emilia, shielding her from the female’s sharp gaze.

“Em!”

Emilia's head whips around, her guarded expression softening as her gaze fixes on a blonde figure drawing nearer with each passing second. Before she knows it, strong arms envelop her. Emilia finds herself wrapped in a comforting hug and returns the gesture.

"Hey, Jes," Emilia greets, the corners of her lips hinting at a rare smile.

"You haven’t come to visit in awhile. I was getting worried," Jesminda remarks, pulling away from the hug with a concern-laden expression.

Lucien, feeling neglected, huffs in mock offense. "What am I? Chopped liver?"

Jesminda giggles, but she redirects her attention to Lucien, throwing her arms around him. He responds with equal enthusiasm, pulling her close and twirling her around, evoking a delighted squeal that he silences with an affectionate kiss.

“Gross,” Emilia comments, a slight grimace crossing her features.

Jesminda, despite Lucien's protest, untangles herself from his embrace. "Never been in love before?"

Emilia's gaze shifts to where Lucien and Jesminda now hold hands. "No, and I don’t plan on it." She pauses, her eyes lingering on the intertwined couple before she adds, "It’s not worth the price.”

“You say that now–”

"Yeah, yeah," Emilia cuts off Lucien before he delves into the cliché notion of finding the right person to fall in love with. Blah, blah, blah. She slips her hand into her pockets, withdrawing a handful of goldmarks and tossing them toward Lucien, who effortlessly catches them. "Go fetch us some apple cider, please?"

Once Lucien is out of earshot, Emilia turns to Jesminda with a cautious look. "This is a dangerous game you're playing."

"I'm not scared," Jesminda replies, her eyes scanning the town square before she leans in closer to her friend. "Just like I'm not scared to stand with Saoirse."

Something flickers in Emilia's eyes, and with a soft smile, Jesminda adds, "I love him."

“He’s the High Lord’s son,” Emilia whispers a bit too harshly for even her own liking yet Jesminda remains unfazed by the reminder.

“One of many,” Jesminda simply points out. “I’m sure he could spare one.”

Emilia sighs. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t,” Jesminda promises and then winks at Emilia. “I’m good at sneaking around.”

Emilia watches Jesminda's determined expression, a mixture of worry and reluctant acceptance in her own gaze. It’s not that Emilia doubts Jesminda. Lucien and Jesminda have kept their relationship secret for many years. Albeit, they often used Emilia as the perfect excuse to venture off together such as Lucien planned to do so tonight. 

But, for Emilia, it's the haunting memory of past losses that casts a shadow over her protective instincts. She can't help but feel an innate need to protect her cherished friend, especially given the fact that she was the one who introduced Lucien to her. If something happened to Jesminda, it would be her fault.

Before Emilia discovered the truth of her heritage and was taken in by her father, it was Jesminda's family who she lived with. They plucked her from the harsh streets and took her in as if she was one of their own. A stark contrast to the way her blood family welcomed her. She wasn’t allowed to visit them after she moved into her father’s estate but now that she lived in the Forest house with her grandfather, it was easier to sneak off to visit them.

Lucien reappears, bearing three mugs of hot apple cider that smell like heaven. Emilia happily takes hers, savoring the steaming warmth that envelops her as she takes a measured sip.

“I’m going to find Brienne,” Emilia says and then she flashes the two a pointed look, dark eyes lingering on Lucien for a moment longer. “We can’t stay out too late tonight unless we want to raise concern.”

**

Beron's eyes were deep pools of darkness, simmering with a livid intensity that mirrored the turmoil within the realm. His hands were clasped behind his back. He stood by the window, an emblem of brooding power, his gaze following the departure of his best men on horseback toward Mistwood.

"There's a mole in this court," Beron declares, his voice cutting through the silence, and he turns abruptly to face Edmund. “And I won’t rest until I have their head on a spike.”

Edmund leans forward, concern etching lines onto his wearied features. "Do you have any suspects?"

"I have a few," Beron responds, his gaze piercing into the very soul of his chief advisor.

Edmund's eyes widen in disbelief and he shifts forward in his seat. "Are you accusing me, my High Lord?"

"Given your family history, I'd be a fool not to suspect you. The phoenix is your family's sigil."

"I have no desire for a coup d'état," Edmund retorts, a humorless laugh escaping him as he averts his gaze. His laugh morphs into a cough, eyebrows furrowing in pain as he brings a handkerchief to his mouth. Slowly, he lifts his eyes to meet Beron's. "What must I do to prove my loyalty to you?"

Before Beron could answer, the door to Edmund’s room opens. Emilia slips in and at the sight of the High Lord, a visible shiver runs through her, causing her to instinctively shrink back. With a harsh swallow, she bows her head in respect and then turns to address the older male.

“You called for me, grandfather?”

“You were out late last night,” Edmund glares at the younger female. “Again.”

“Let’s finish our conversation later this afternoon in my study.” Beron says and without acknowledging Emilia’s presence, he gracefully exits the room.

“I’m sorry, I was–”

“You went to go visit them, didn’t you?” Edmund interrupts sharply and when Emilia lowers her head, he rises from his seat. “I am your family. Your only family.”

“You are forbidden to go to Thornwood from now on.”

“But grandfather–”

“Have you not heard?” Edmund raises his voice. “The High Lord has sent his best guards to Mistwood to obliterate the growing threats and Thornwood is sure to follow.” His voice falters as he falls into another fit of coughing. 

“You will stay here, where you are safe,” he manages to wheeze as he slumps back into his seat.

“Are you alright?” Emilia gasps out in horror.

She rushes to her grandfather, falling to her knees beside him. He brings his handkerchief once more to cover his cough. “I’m fine,” he huffs out breathlessly.

When his hand drops to his side and head falls back in exhaustion, Emilia notices the dark red stain on the light fabric. The sight pleases her more than it should and with his eyes closed, Emilia allows her mask to fall.

A faint smirk taints her lips and once again, there's that flicker of fiery malevolence in her eyes. Edmund Pyralis is not fine.

He's dying...and the Vanserras are next.

**

A couple of weeks later...

Mistwood is now nothing but ash.

Though the townspeople fought with heart and might, they were no match for the High Lord’s soldiers who had trained for centuries. Beron gave strict orders for no survivors to be left behind as he’s done so many times before. It’s not the first time there’s been uprisings and rebellions and it certainly won’t be the last. Those disloyal to him may win battles here and there but Beron will always win the war.

His soldiers did not return this time. Instead, Beron ordered them to disperse into neighboring towns along the countryside and act as peacekeepers. However, they ushered in anything but tranquility to the towns they’ve forcefully settled into. 

All was well. There was no longer talk about protests or potential uprisings. No more whispers about the Phoenix. What a foolish hope that had been.

Beron sighs as he enters his bath chambers. The anticipation of relief courses through him as he closes his eyes, immersing himself in the cocoon of steaming warmth that envelops the air. His tired muscles, worn from the weight of responsibility, already yearn for the comforting touch of the hot water against his skin.

Upon opening his eyes, however, the tranquility he sought is shattered. Tension grips his muscles even tighter as his gaze falls upon an unsettling sight. There, floating ominously in the bathwater, is a single red chrysanthemum. The vibrant hue seems to mock him, triggering a surge of pain that stabs sharply through his chest. He doesn’t dare think of her name, forcing images of her back into the corner of his mind he had shoved her into.

He plucks the flower out and flames lick at his fingertips. They burn through the flower with ease, reducing it to a small pile of ashes onto the floor. He uses his magic to dispose of it. He shakes off the unsettling feeling threatening to seep in and settles into the bath instead. He’d deal with the servants who prepared his bath first thing tomorrow. 

**

The following morning, just as he’s about to call for his servants, he’s met with an even more appalling sight.

His eyes widen as he steps out onto his balcony. There’s a sea of red chrysanthemums blanketing the palace grounds, their vibrant petals ablaze in the early light. A small piece of paper floats above him, calling his name in a sinister whisper. He reluctantly takes it, unfolding it.

Burn us and we shall simply rise again from the ashes.

-The Phoenix

It's instinctive. The way he sets the paper ablaze in his grasp. As the last ember of paper dissipates, the sea of red flowers catches fire as if on cue. Beron watches in astonishment as the flowers transform into ashes, only to burst into flames once more. The flames intensify, swirling together in mesmerizing patterns, shaping an unmistakable silhouette. A phoenix.

 A shiver races down his spine. 

There’s only one person he knew who loved red chrysanthemums. Desperate for an answer, he reaches out to the threads of fate that he had severed. They hang loosely but they’re still there. Only this time, he feels nothing. Absolutely nothing.

A profound emptiness washes over him, rendering him numb. She’s dead. He should not be surprised. Afterall, he had ordered it.

It’s as if the Cauldron, offended by his defiance of its predestined connection, has forsaken him upon opening his side of the bond. The bond he denied and closed off for centuries. His body weakens, forcing him to fall onto his knees.

Silver lines his brown eyes. His eyes that were once dull are now lively with pure grief and heartache. His hands grasp at his chest as if they could close the gaping hole she left behind. It’s useless. 

The memories of her, his mate, begin to rise just as the ashes of the red chrysanthemums did. He can see her smiling at him in a way he does not deserve. He can hear her calling his name in a hushed whisper that burns into his skin. More and more memories of her infiltrate his mind, tormenting him in the worst ways imaginable.

“Beron.”

“Beron,” the voice repeats again and it takes him a while to register that the voice is not his mate’s but his wife’s.  “What is going on?”

Beron is surprised at the concern laced into her tone. He grasps onto this feeling, pulling himself out of the depth of the own hell he created. The bond in his chest slowly closes once more.  His breath begins to steady and though shaky, he rises to his feet again.

“I need to find her,” is all he says as he walks past his wife.

Lady Aurelia blinks, eyebrows knitting together. “Find who?”

Beron does not answer her. He strides further into their room and toward the area where he keeps his sword. He secures it to his waistband, determined to never go out without it from now on.

Not when his daughter, thought to be lost to the shadows, was alive. Not when she is the one who stands at the helm of the rebellions that echo through the Autumn Court. And for the first time in centuries, a spark of fear ignites within him.

How is he supposed to fight an enemy that prospers when burned to the ground?

a/n: I feel like I suck at writing about politics/conflict that isn't romance related so I hope this came out okay and not confusing. More will info will be given in the next parts.

It feels like I've read ACOTAR ages ago so I've forgotten some details and am going off of what I find on reddit/ACOTAR wiki so if I happen to make a mistake in terms of canon things, let me know. Also, I was too lazy to find new names for some of Eris's brothers so I'm reusing the ones I used in my Like An Angel series. I honestly can't wait until Az shows up but it will be 2-3 parts until then. For now, you get a lot of foreshadowing (:

tagging: @mybestfriendmademe @waytoomanyteenagefeels @janebirkln, @acourtofbatboydreams

(it's been awhile since I updated so I tagged some of y'all, just in case y'all were interested in reading more. Please let me know if you'd like to remain on the tag list, no worries if not (: Or if you'd like to be added)

[joyfuladorable]

Any headcanons about peni and miles and Gwen.

A few!

I have a fondness for young characters who end up gaining a bunch of surrogate older siblings, so Peni now holds that honor as well!

I think the events that (further) traumatized Peni are the incident with Addy Brock and VE#m and the death of her Aunt May. The comic issue didn’t really have the time to dig into that, but I’d love if Spider-Verse changes it so that Addy and Peni get to be friends before the disaster with VE#m happens. And then after all that, it’d be like the end of that story where she’s talking with her Uncle Ben before Spider-Ham portals to her to invite her into the Society.

At some point she learns about Canon Events and is Devastated. Like, she really Couldn’t have saved her aunt and Addy even if she’d Tried? Her dad was Meant to Die?? She gets comfort from the older Spideys; but I think especially Gwen, who’s absolutely avoiding thinking about her own dad and what him being a Police Captain means. Once things have (hopefully) settled in Beyond, I like to imagine Miles also gaining the older sibling status.

Anyways, headcanons!!

- Peni Canonically Loves Music, even going so far as playing it while she fights crime, so her and Gwen and Miles (and obviously Hobie and Pavitr and Margo) enthusiastically share their musical tastes with each other

- In the same vein, I just want them to hangout as friends so they have like weekly game nights sharing different card and board games and Pavitr keeps trying to convince everyone to let him run a ttrpg he really likes

- Peni and Margo figure out how to make inter-dimensional Wi-Fi so the teens also play MMOs together even when they’re in their respective universes

- Peni watches Hobie and Gwen play a gig and is enamored by the drums so she asks Gwen to teach her and oh Wow what a great outlet she should’ve tried this Sooner (please imagine Spider hanging from a cymbal as Peni plays and doing that cartoon zaggy vibration whenever it’s hit)

- Lots of hopping between each other’s universes cuz I want them to spend even More time together and have like cultural exchanges and stuff

- When Peni eventually divulges how she got her powers and what happened to her dad and the whole Oscorp technically being her employer thing, the protective older siblings instincts come out and one day her Uncle Ben looks up from his work to see his niece flanked by several angry looking teens

- I know this is supposed to be a Peni Gwen Miles friendship dynamic ask but Peni would get along so well with the other teens like if you’ve seen Peni’s room in the comics she’s a big fan of punk rock and would absolutely be besties with Hobie. Then there’s Pavitr and their sunshine personalities would elevate each other! And, as I’ve mentioned before Peni and Margo are Tech Buddies!!!

- A sign of trust from Peni is if she lets you hold Spider. A high honor! Miles doesn’t get it when she just drops em on his shoulder one day when she goes to do something, so when Gwen tells him he tears up a little bit (a lotta bit)

- okay, and finally, if you’ve read the Spider-Verse Unlimited: Infinity story with Peni, you know she wants to be Normal very Badly and does the usual awkward kid thing of trying to fit in with the Popular Kids’ interests while keeping her secret identity safe during the inevitable calls to hero duty interrupting her time with friends. She doesn’t have to do that with her Spidey buds/siblings!! An alert of trouble while hanging with them means some epic team-up fights!!! Chosen family, My Beloved…

[icefireanimates]

Mutuals only blog! @icey-talks

i’m in high school

assigned smug airy mutual at tigerclawstar-shaped-cookie

i spam reblog a lot

big swear warning for my blog

icefireanimates > ice-is-normal-about-hfjone > smug-airy-mutual > icefireanimates

first post limit on february 27th 2024 😔

i’ve decided every time i hit post limit im gonna send an ask to every mutual on my dash sorry

sorry softblocking wont work on me bc i forget if i followed you in the first place so ill just end up following you again bc ill just think i forgot to follow you

mod for @itsallgrianhere

making a hermitcraft x rain world AU called craft the rain: masterpost

i forget a lot so be patient

here’s the list (green is who’s fronting atm)

also turns out i’m traumatized from things i thought were normal so that’s great 👍

idc if you make nsfw art just don’t follow me on your nsfw blog

i tag triggers with #tw [thing] and #[thing] tw

also don’t bring syscourse here i don’t even understand myself so i just don’t care enough to have any opinions on that

oh also if you’re 18+ i don’t mind dms unless it’s like for conversations, like if sending you something like a yt link or something then it’s fine but otherwise no. (with an exception for Alexo love you <3 /p)

DNI if

pedo zoo radfem transphobe homophobe exclusionist etc basic dni

also dream (+dteam especially fucking george.) fans fuck off

also wilbur supporters go away your favorite white boy is a shit person

blinkies+ other funny images/gifs under cut

here is my sona

and also here’s a post to alternate dashboards so i can go back to em lmao

[gamesception]

Sception Reads Cass Cain #38

Batgirl (2000) #18 - September 2001 Writer: Kelley Puckett Pencils: Damion Scott Inks: Robert Campanella Colors: Jason Wright

Ooh, a guest in Cass's book. Is this the first we've seen that? I think it might be. We get to see whether Tim gets a better showing in Cass's book than she's had in his.

Far more importantly, though, this issue starts with a dream sequence, one that I've referenced a few times already. I misremembered it as happening much earlier on in Cass's run, because it is so fundamental to understanding who (this version of) Cassandra is as a character.

It starts with 8 year old cass in a stealth suit (if there was one thing I think could improve this flashback, it would be if she was wearing the grown up batgirl suit all clearly too big for her, like the cover of issue 4), sneaking around the Batcave, a mischievous smirk on her face like a kid who knows they're getting away with something. She's tiny in a world too big for her as she creeps up onto a computer panel to reach the bat-cookie jar. There an expression of gleeful triumph on her face as she reaches a hand into the jar to snatch...

No, she's caught! Batman, Dick, Alfred (somehow? Has she even met Alfred?), Helena, Tim, Jean-Paul (nice nod there), they've caught her with her hand in the cookie jar neck of the man she killed. She's grown and wearing her batsuit now but she's still so small and they're so big and they're calling her a murderer while Barbara sits dejected, looking up to say 'How could you?' so hurt that Cassandra would betray them all this way, would betray her specifically, sullying the legacy of Batgirl with a murderer's bloody hands, and then the dead man speaks, and it's not the man she killed anymore, now her fingers are buried in the throat of her Father, David Cain, as he admonishes her. "Did you really think you could fool 'em forever?"

...

There's just so much happening here. The cookies - the treat, the prize she's stealing, labeled with the bat symbol? That's being Batgirl. And saving people as Batgirl is the only way she knows how to do to atone for what she did. Except she's a murderer, she deserves to be punished, not redeemed. Worse, being Batgirl is fun! It's exciting and thrilling and the best life she could possibly imagine. It's a reward, not the punishment she deserves, and deep in her traumatized and guilt-ruined inner 8 year old's bones she knows she's getting away with something she doesn't deserve.

Sooner or later her new family will catch her, they'll learn the truth, they'll realize she's not good like them, she's only pretending, really she's a murderer, and when they find out she's sure they'll all turn on her. From this we can infer that her isolation isn't just something imposed on her by Bruce, it's also something she's doing to herself, or willingly allowing Bruce to do to her. After all, the closer she gets to the others, the sooner one of them will realize that she doesn't belong. The more it will hurt when they cast her out.

And there's David Cain calling her out. David, the only one who knows her secret, who knows the real her, the murderer.

....

This is such a good look into Cassandra's character and mental space, into how she sees herself as Batgirl. How dearly she loves it and how badly she wants it and how sure she is that she doesn't deserve it and it's only a matter of time before the others find out and feel the same.

...

I would also say it's fantastic foreshadowing, because this is clearly building to a number of major reveals & confrontations, right? When Bruce finally has to admit the truth and does try to reject her, tearing their family apart in the process as Babs sticks with Cass and the rest are forced to choose sides. Or wondering how Cassandra will react when she finds out that Babs already knows, that she already knew almost the entire time, and that she doesn't care, still loves her, still is proud of her, still wants her to be Batgirl - will she feel relieved, or will she lose respect for Barbara for not holding Cass to the same impossible moral standard that she holds herself to? One could imagine a conflict of Babs vs. Bruce over whether Cassandra is worthy of the costume only with Cassandra taking Bruce's side rather than her own. And David Cain is still out there, potentially throwing the whole thing into an even deeper level of turmoil.

Sadly I can't say this is good foreshadowing, because none of that really happens. Fantastic set up, but not quite landing the follow through. But we're still in the set up part, and the set up part is so, so good, and this dream sequence is maybe the best two pages of it.

...

So yeah there is an actual story in this issue, it's not just a two page dream sequence. I've spent most of my analytical energy already so I'm not going to go in depth, but it's a cool team up story with Tim, where Tim is trying to take down a mob boss while Cass goes after an assassin the boss hired then failed to pay. It's good stuff actually, and well worth a read, but I just want to pick out a couple bits...

We get an explicit limit/exception to Cass's body-reading ability.

Just a bunch of cool art, I like this panel a lot.

We get this moment where Cass opens up a bit to Tim, who starts to connect with her in a way that he hasn't in their previous meet ups.

And it ends on this nice moment of Tim admitting he's been cold to Cassandra and apologizing, extending a hand in friendship. And it's a really nice moment, though the fact that this is coming from Batgirl's creative team makes me wonder Robin's creative team will maintain the better relationship going forward.

As for the question of Whether Tim comes off better in Cass's book than Cass did the last few times she showed up in his, I mean, obviously. What's maybe more noteworthy is that Tim is more likable in this book than even he is in his own, at least as of the last couple issues we looked at. He's thoughtful and intuitive here, self aware, capable of self reflection, capable of recognizing when he's been in the wrong and taking steps to correct himself. All in a story that still emphasizes his detective skills and tech savvy. It makes me sort of wish Tim had his own book... Unfortunately he did.

Of that run of Robin I've only ever read the few issues we've talked about in this project, most notably the two we looked at most recently, and those two especially were were pretty miserable. Not in the sense of being sad and heavy like Cass's book often is, just kind of awkward and unpleasant and mean spirited. Weird choice for a Robin title, imo, you'd figure people would be looking for something a little more light hearted out of that book, with a more likable protagonist. Then again it's really not fair of me to judge an ongoing book when I've read so little of it, so I'm just going to let it go there.

[starhvney]

um.... what if gene x fem reader that got stuck during the starlight ultima incident with his friends 🥹 what's he feelin... what if they reunited..

Sorry if this is cringe 🙏

𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: mystreet gene x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: gene and the rest of his trio made it to starlight, but as soon as they arrive, they’re told they’re trapped on the island. amid the chaos, gene finally finds you, only for you to be ripped away from him once again

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: angst, hurt/comfort, zenix being slow(in the head), lowkey wingwoman sasha, gene crying and whimpering >:), could be seen as slightly ooc but i traumatized him for the plot so :3 oopsi!

𝐂𝐖: mentions of character death and violence, getting shot

𝐀/𝐍: did someone order a gene fic, extra angst? i haven’t caught up on rewatching the later seasons of mystreet, so i’m sorry for any inaccuracies in the lore! anyways another gene banger had to do it to em

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

it had happened so quickly. one moment, his eyes had landed on yours, the corners of his lips raising as he started to walk towards you. it had been too long since he’d seen you, and he couldn’t help the almost childish excitement he felt in his stomach. his mouth had only barely opened as he was about to call your name, when he realized the panicked expression on your face, your head shaking at him to stop. it stopped him in his tracks, the way your eyebrows were pinched together and your eyes were wide in… what was it? shock? fear? 

it was then he realized people were shouting and pointing in your direction, drawing the attention of some nearby soldiers. the ones who trapped everyone in here in this big mess.

“isn’t she one of the ones with the ultima?”

“right here! guards!”

then it was chaos. the crowd around him screamed and pushed him further away from you as armed men swarmed the area. he had started to push back, confused and dazed as he finally caught a glimpse of you again, running in the opposite direction.

then there was a loud popping noise, one that echoed across the plaza, and he watched your body drop and disappear amongst the crowd. loud, panicked screams sounded muffled in his ears as he stumbled back, the blood in his face draining.

why was his vision blurry? where was he again? 

he couldn’t breathe. he can’t breathe.

familiar hands pull him out of the crushing pushes of the crowd, keeping him upright as he gasps for air. when did his ears start ringing?

“gene! gene! come on man, let’s go, we need to get back to the room.” he’s finally able to focus on a voice, his normally narrowed blue eyes blown wide in shock.

zenix felt disturbed, looking at the state of gene in that moment. he had never seen his friend like that, his mouth was agape in shock, chest hitching unevenly as gene’s glazed over eyes looked straight through him like he wasn’t even there.

“what happened…?” he trails, before shaking his head and dragging his paralyzed friend through the crowd. “come on, sasha is back towards the condo. she’ll be worried.”

it was a blur, the next week. the guardian forces sent out a curfew, only letting people out of their rented residences if they were getting food or necessities and arresting anyone they deemed “suspicious”. he couldn’t sleep, eye bags darker than usual and skin gaunt from exhaustion.

anytime he closed his eyes he saw your face, his heart twisting at how anxious you had looked in that moment. were you able to get away? or did you bleed out on the concrete, losing consciousness as the crowd kicked sand in your face? was it instant instead, sparing you the suffering and pain? what if he was able to make it to you before you were shot, could you be here with him right now?

regret ate him alive, every moment he had spent with you replaying like a movie. your smile when you’d lock eyes with him. your eyes when you were talking about the things you liked. how he had hesitated telling you how his heart sped up when he was around you, knowing you would be leaving on vacation. what if he told you, that day?

a faint but rapid knock interrupted his thoughts, his eyes darting up to meet the wary looks of sasha and zenix. After a moment of contemplation, he gets up slowly, approaching the door and grabbing a kitchen knife from the counter. it doesn’t matter if it was the soldier who fired the shot at you or not, his jaw clenched as he hardened his resolve to plunge the object right into the throat of…

just as you were anxiously questioning if you got the condo number right, the door in front of you slightly opened, revealing the man that you had been looking for. a second passes as he stares at you, dull blue eyes boring into yours with an unreadable emotion in them. you hear something metallic drop to the tiled floor behind him, tearing your attention away from him for a split moment.

before you can say anything his hand reaches out, grasping onto your hoodie and yanking you into the room with unexpected force. shaky arms wrap around you, tight enough to almost be near painful. you register the door shutting behind you, but your focus falls on gene’s hitched breaths hitting your ear, his body feeling slightly weaker and thinner than you remember.

“who…? oh shit, she’s alive.”

zenix’s voice disappears as soon as it had appeared as sasha dragged him into another room, her voice hushed and muffled.

“gene…” you cautiously call out, earning you another tight squeeze.

your feet drag as his back hits the wall, sliding to the floor and taking you down with him. his legs trap you against him, keeping you completely crumpled in his lap. just as you’re about to say something again, you feel his entire torso shake with a silent sob, an almost inaudible whimper meeting your ears. his quiet gasps for breath hit your hair, tears dampening your neck and hoodie as his whole body continued to shudder against yours.

for a moment you’re left frozen in shock. you can’t remember one time you had seen the man cry, let alone break down as he was right now. you move your arms as much as his unyielding hold would let you, trying your best to return his desperate embrace.

“...were dead.” his voice cracks out hoarsely, only letting you hear the end of his sentence.

“...what?”

“i thought you were dead.” he shudders out another whimpered breath. “i saw you get shot.”

one of his hands that was clutching onto your shoulder moves up, shifting his grip to the back of your head and tucking you closer to the crook of his neck. he presses his nose into your hair, breathing in the scent of your shampoo before placing a teary kiss against your head.

“i was grazed by a bullet, but i’m okay.”

his other hand finds your cheek, moving your head back enough for your eyes to meet. gingerly, you use your thumb to wipe the remaining tears from under his eyes, frowning at the swollen dark circles underneath them. his dark eyebrows are uncharacteristically upturned, and his eyelashes wet and stuck together.

midnight blue irises dart down to your lips before he meets them with his own. it’s desperate, the way he tilts your head back, one of his hands threading through your hair and the other rubbing and pinching the skin on your cheek–as if he were checking that you were really there. his lips taste salty, his tears only slightly hiding how chapped they were from a lack of hydration. he parts from you to rest his forehead against yours, his breaths finally steady and full. you stare up at him in a surprised daze, feeling the pieces of a large puzzle begin to click in your head.

slowly, the two of you rise to stand again, his hands still clinging to you as if you would disappear from them if he let go. you hear soft footsteps enter the room again, and turn to see sasha peeking through the doorway. she scans you with her eyes, before her downturned lips stretch into a rare smile.

“i’m glad you’re okay.”

zenix appears behind her, arms crossed and lips pressed together in thought. sasha kicks his shin with her foot, causing him to curse under his breath at the sharp pain.

“me too, obviously.” his eyes narrowed. “but… how did you find us, exactly?

“it’s a long story, but i came to get you guys to bring you back to where we’re all hiding out. if michael or the gf finds out you’re associated with us… you guys are safer if we’re all together.” their eyes stare blankly at you in confusion. “i can explain more later, but you should pack what you can and get ready to sneak across the island.”

“sneaking into places we’re not supposed to be is the one thing we’re good at.” sasha smirks before she and zenix retreat back into their rooms.

you glance back at gene, only to see he was still staring down at you. you raise on your tiptoes, pressing a short kiss to his lips. he leans down as his lips try to follow yours, eyes hesitating to open again 

“and when we get back, you can explain more about this later.”

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

[lucariogirl369]

So...I got a Striker related theory...

Every time I watch the HB s2 episode Oops, this Striker scene near the end has been and always will be burned in the back of my brain.

Just by looking at THIS screenshot in particular, you can tell one of two things going through this man's now unstable mind; knowing he screwed up big time and is about to die...or, the biggest theory of all that a lotta of us HB enthusiast and Striker simps have theorized SINCE the dawn of his introduction back in The Harvest Moon Festival...he's about to relive some trauma.

I do have a multitude of theories about everyone's favorite lil' cowboy from this side of the Wrath Ring, but this singular screenshot alone already speaks volumes. One of which is that he lost his family during sometime in his childhood and/or he was once a husband/father at one point in his life, and seeing how he despises royals (despite the fact he only worked for Stella to get to Stolas...probably to get to her next, but that's a theory for another time), he probably lost them during a fire a royal family set upon his homeland and now he's reliving the horrible memory all over again.

But for this post, I'm sticking with the one during his childhood. Again, seeing how he hates royals, bluebloods, anyone who's a part of the "rich life" or is a part of the royal families, etc. His family grew up with not much but managing to barely get by with what little they had.

Only managing to afford food, clothes, a home, etc. If his family were to have more money in the pockets, they'd save it for emergencies or celebrations like birthdays or other holidays. This would've made him a target for bullying by richer families add to the fact that he's also a hybrid. No, seriously, he's a hybrid. That aside...

I would also assume his family either worked for a royal family under contract or were put into slavery and he witnessed the treatment his parents and possible siblings received throughout his youth. Which would explain why he hates royal demons, overlords, and the like.

As for the fire...I theorized what happened was the following; his parents didn't have enough to buy for food or anything else, so, they made the riskiest decision by stealing from a royal family so they'd at least have enough for a meal, but ended up getting more so they could afford not just the necessities, but luxuries as well for their children.

That would end up being the biggest mistake of their lives. Once the royal family found out, they immediately attacked Striker's homeland, burning everything to the ground and destroying and harming the residents who lived there. Striker's parents and siblings getting the worst torment and torture of all. His parents told him to run and to not look back, but once he was far enough and he did look back...he was traumatized by seeing his family burning to death, no thanks to the noble demon taking his family away from him.

Maybe I'm looking too deep into this, but IT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE! His speech also signifies more from Western Energy!

"Not every ring is some fancy-ass city. With some fancy-ass mansion, that only FANCY-ASS royals get to live in! Some of us have hard lives to live! And some of us, have EVERYTHING we care about taken away by fuckers like you!"

From his speech about royal demons to Stolas, his "deal" to Blitz from Harvest Moon Festival, and the screenshot before the explosion says a LOT about what happened to Striker! Now, whether or not we see an official flashback from the Spindle Horse crew or at least get some kinda backstory for Striker, it would make a lotta sense as to why he is the way he is!

Ngl...I feel so bad for him! I wanna take 'em home, wrap 'em up in a fluffy blanket, feed 'em ice cream, and hug and snuggle him until he has a good cry and feels better! Our little cowboy has suffered enough and needs some loves and DESERVES some kind of redemption arc! 😭😭😭

[merakiui]

your triplet scaramouche thoughts!!! I love them sm if you have any others I would LOVE to hear em you have no idea

i have another question though!! what would the three of them do if reader fell in love with just one of them?

I'm really happy you want to hear my thoughts on them. Thank you!!! :D if you fell in love with just one of them, I think they might do the oh-so-sly sibling switch in which the other two occasionally take the place of sibling you're in love with while he's busy in hopes of spending more time with you. And, although they are all very different in temperaments, they're eerily good at acting like one another. You might not realize it the first few times until you start to look beyond everything at the little individual tells they all have, and it soon begins clear that the triplet you're interacting with is not the one you love so dearly.

As for other ideas, I do have one very coherent one!!

Imagine the triplets falling for a parental kindergarten teacher!!! On the walk back from university, they always see you there in the playground lot on the school property, sometimes consoling a child who fell and scraped their knee or gently reminding students to share toys like chalk or a ball rather than fight over it. The triplets witness this every day, listening to the kindness in your tone, seeing how you always bend down to meet the kids at eye level, admiring the way the apron hugs your figure so nicely. You're a sweetheart! How have they never noticed you before? Naturally, they must have you for themselves.

When you go missing, no one suspects the triplets had anything to do with it. They've never interacted with you; they're just university students heading home after a tiring day of academics. The truth is that, months into captivity, you have remained chained in a dull room that's very sparsely furnished. For a while your lips were taped because you would beg and cry and sometimes scream, and they can't have that. Now, after a few dangerous threats from Scaramouche, you've promised to be good. Off comes the tape, but if you so much as raise your voice by even a slight octave Scaramouche will take a knife to your tongue and saw, saw, saw until it's splattered into your palms in a bloody lump of muscle.

They're all so insistent on calling you Mama or Mommy or Mother. You might not even be a parent (or perhaps you're pregnant when they kidnap you, so you're a parent-to-be; or they knock you up themselves to make the fantasy a reality >:D), but regardless of that they'll still view you as one because you're far more motherly than their actual mother ever was. It's a frightening game of House, especially since you can never predict what either of them will do next or how they're feeling one moment. But you've come to learn that they all like it when you acknowledge them with tenderness. When you pat Kabukimono on the head, he tears up and practically envelops you in the tightest hug. When you thank Wanderer for bringing your meals (and sometimes feeding you if your wrists are bound), he insists it's not a big deal, avoiding your eyes when you pat his hand fondly. When you tell Scaramouche he can always talk to you if he's troubled—that you'll lend an ear no matter what—he scoffs and says he'd never confide in you (he does eventually once he warms up to you).

It's obvious they're all hurting from traumatic experiences. It's obvious they're using you as an outlet, taking comfort in your presence and what it means to them. You know they've done something very wrong by kidnapping and confining you here. You know your portrait is all over the daily news and most likely hung on telephone poles and pinned to bulletin boards. But fighting and resisting accomplishes nothing, and even if they've subjected you to this terrible situation the least you can do is try to be kind, if only to survive and retain a semblance of sanity in this dismal, four-walled prison of a bedroom.

You hope to lower their guards enough for you to win back freedoms until, eventually, you can escape—if such a feat is possible. So you'll submit to their game of House, even if revulsion prickles your skin every time they call you Mother.