#and about the people who are murdered. about the bodies that are harmed after. the people who are hurt before.

[coochiequeens]

When I say "Stop transing minors" I don't just mean medically transitioning, I also mean stop exposing kids to overly sexualized situations.

By Shay Woulahan April 24, 2024

A 14-year-old girl who identifies as a “drag king” and is being transitioned to a “boy” has reportedly been performing sexually suggestive shows at LGBT clubs and bars across Vancouver, Canada. The minor, who is disabled and autistic, goes by “he/him/they/it” pronouns and is taking testosterone under the permission of her mother.

The child, who was born female but identifies as a “boy,” uses the stage name “Nova Tropica” and has performed in at least three LGBT bars in Vancouver, all of which are adult venues that serve alcohol. Among the clubs Nova has danced at are The Fountainhead Pub, Steamworks brewpub, and The Junction.

According to Gays Against Groomers, during her performance at The Foundationhead Pub, a gay bar located on Davie Street, the child danced with only tape covering the front of her breasts.

The child as seen in an uncensored video posted to Instagram.

Nova maintains a YouTube channel where she often uploads footage of her performances.

In August of 2023, she shared a video of her dancing on stage in a bar to the song “Bubblegum B*tch” and is seen collecting dollar bills from audience members. In another video, Nova is seen dancing alone to the Britney Spears’ controversial song “If U Seek Amy,” which is intended to sound out the letters “F-U-C-K me.”

In some of the videos posted to her YouTube account, she is seen dancing to an adult crowd wearing only a cut-out bathing suit, an outfit she has also posed in for photos shared to her social media while wearing clear, stiletto “pleasers,” a form of platform high-heel most frequently associated with stripping, pole dancing, and the sex trade.

As well as posting footage of her performances to YouTube, Nova also maintains an Instagram page where she posts clips of herself dancing on stage while exclusively adult crowds cheer her on. In many of the videos, Nova is wearing revealing clothing and, during one performance, she even spreads her legs for the audience.

On her Instagram, which was made private shortly after her activities were first exposed by Gays Against Groomers, Nova also frequently posted about her mental health struggles, though continuously insisted her “neurodivergence” was unrelated to her desire to transition.

“The only way they could even correlate is through the way I view my gender,” Nova said in the caption of one post where she described herself as a “demon boy” and said she’s “everything Lucifer wants her to be.”

In another post, in which she wears a cut-out swimsuit she has performed in, Nova said she “loves” how testosterone is starting to affect her muscle definition.

Nova’s transition has been supported by her mother Chrysta. On her own Instagram page, Chrysta posted about how she had been struggling to access hormones for her daughter since she was just 11 years old.

In the post, Chrysta acknowledges that Nova is experiencing poor mental health, but attributes her condition to “being born in the wrong body.” She also condemns the Canadian political parties attempting to pass legislation which would protect children from medical transitioning.

“I will not allow any government to MURDER my child,” Chrysta said in one post. “Forcing a child to live in a body that is not authentic to their person is MURDER.”

The post was made in reference to the People’s Party of Canada, which developed a 7-point plan to protect women and children from the harmful effects of gender ideology, such as banning men from women’s spaces and sports and banning genital mutilation surgeries and cross-sex hormones for minors.

Not only has Chrysta facilitated Nova’s transition, but she also confesses to monitoring her social media, meaning she is aware of the inappropriate videos and photos being posted online of her minor daughter.

In one post, she addressed rumors that an adult Drag King had behaved inappropriately in messages with her young daughter, claiming the concerns were “false accusations.”

But her notice was not the only suggestion that Nova has been in contact with adult drag performers.

On Instagram, Nova spoke about attending a youth summer “drag camp” hosted by “Rose Butch” and “DeeDee LaCraze.”

DeeDee LaCraze also operates a YouTube channel called “Drag4Kids” where he has made multiple videos in full drag singing nursery rhymes. LaCraze hosts his youth drag camp along side Rose Butch, a trans identified female who calls herself a “non-binary drag thing.”

The summer camp, held in July 2023, was made available for children as young as 7.

There has been an uptick in the number of children performing drag, often in bars and clubs, in recent years. Last April, a video went viral showing a young “drag queen” dancing at a party sponsored by a gay hookup app.

Arguably one of the most well-known “drag kids” is Desmond Napoles, who goes by the name “Desmond is Amazing.” Desmond rose to fame at only 11 years old in 2017 after being featured on RuPaul’s Drag Race. Soon after, the child appeared in YouTube and Facebook streams alongside adult men, and was even filmed joking about snorting ketamine.

With the increase in “drag kids” has come further scrutiny of the sexual predators involved in the drag scene. In 2022, a “drag kid” mentor and a former elementary school teaching assistant faced child pornography charges following an investigation into exploitative material shared on the internet.

[blueiight]

“…i was haunted by my brother’s death, by the abandonment of my sister…”

majority of the conversation around paul in the amc setting revolves around the question of whodunnit, jokes about him at the second dinner table scene of the pilot, or paralleling his mental illness to louis [a parallel the show admittedly draws upon - with louis stopping his suicide attempt bc “paul forever ruining grace’s wedding night, and [louis] not wanting to do the same to claudia on the anniversary of her escape”] what i intend to focus on, is the specific nature of paul’s complaints with respect to levi, and what paul and claudia represent to louis.

in the book, paul wants louis to sell the plantations & town homes they own in new orleans, and give louis the money so that paul could travel and become a missionary saving france from the godless jacobins. the paul that we’re introduced to in the show is… similar in motivation, but fundamentally divergent. tithe the money over to st. augustine’s so the house dont fall in on them, but the first dinner table goes as this after he says that:

whats of note too is the divergence of the draft v the pilot release. the show excises the freniere family w the exception of levi himself to drive home how paul’s objections to levi’s religious and ethnic background are overruled by the lingering shadow of jim crow.

paul is also reminded that his autonomy is conditional in this first dinner scene here: louis quips back to his point about sugarcane with “if daddy was still here, you’d be locked up in that asylum over in jackson”. its a reminder of the earlier point, but also speaks to something else.

bc of paul’s profound mental illness, he would never be allowed to live an autonomous life, much less hold authority over anyone: whether its the man of the house [as louis was in the du lac family], or as a bride [grace] or as the mother [florence].

this is strongly reminiscent of claudia — someone whos personal autonomy is entirely dependent on the purview of physically mature vampires by nature of permanently being trapped in the body of a preteen. it is also reminiscent of claudia in that louis in both cases plays a sort of savior in relation to them — whether its louis taking paul out of the asylum, or louis taking claudia out of the burning rooming home. louis views paul and claudia, especially claudia, as people that save him from his own self-loathing.. claudia somehow possessing this redemptive quality re: baby jesus…

louis loves both of them deeply, but as iwtv has established, love as a feeling does not exempt someone from enacting violence toward you. in fact, the very loved one that harmed you has an entire framework of rationalizing that violent act as being ‘for your[my] own good’ as is.

the title of this little post comes from the season one finale, where louis collapses in on himself to try to make sense of why he spared lestat, invoking paul and grace to create this red herring to the ‘murder of lestat’. but truly, the thread is false. louis did not abandon grace, and lestat’s death was only an attempted murder sabotaged by louis. modern day louis in the season finale triggers himself through daniel in order to provoke armand, the “protector of his pain”, to reveal himself + question him on the death of claudia, just as he questioned lestat on the death of paul in s1e6.

[narutomaki]

watched a video where the author said (not exactly) "and (x) number of people will die today if I felt as much for them as I did over losing a family member I wouldn't be able to function"

and was briefly and momentarily (thank god) seized with the gut wrenching pain of thinking about everyone around the world who died ever lol.

any way.

[river-of-wine]

I know I’ve mentioned this plenty of times before but I’m still kind of annoyed by how the fanbase just kind of completely declawed the four lords and placed the entirety of the responsibility for their wrongdoings on Mother Miranda.

The Baker family are great, I love them, they’re an incredible unit of antagonists who are intended to be very sympathetic, at least for the most part. Jack and Marguerite in particular have lost all control over their minds and their bodies, turning into extremely violent murderers and cannibals who threaten and attack their own family, kill anyone unfortunate enough to come across them and, especially in Marguerite’s case, lose complete autonomy over their own bodies. Marguerite turns into a walking bug hive who’s only purpose is to feed her family and birth her new children. Jack is an unstoppable murderous force of patriarchal violence who has so much fun chasing down and harming his victims, which in the Daughters DLC includes even his own daughter. The exception to this is obviously Lucas, who has been cured of his infection and his acting of his own free will. All of this is caused by Eveline, everything Jack and Marguerite do controlled by her, and yet Eveline is just as sympathetic as the rest of them. She’s a ten year old girl. Even Jack, who has watched his family and their victims suffer because of her infection, doesn’t seem to hold any of it against her. She just wants a family of her own, after all. It’s a complex and tragic situation.

The four lords, while I suppose being similar in structure, are not the Baker family. Not in dynamic, not in character, not in the kind of tragedy that they embody. I could talk for a while about just how completely different they are, but I don’t know if I really need to.

The Baker family are so tragic because they were just innocent bystanders trying to help a woman and a little girl they found in a shipwreck out in a storm. That’s the only reason they ended up in the situation that they were in. While the lords have similar origins, being victims of Mother Miranda’s experiments to bring her daughter Eva back, an important distinction between them is that in the case of the lords, all four of them are still acting of their own free will. Yes, Mother Miranda has undeniable power over them. She leads the cult they are part of, she has control over the village, she is their superior. However, I really dislike when every negative action by the lords is pushed onto her, as if the lords are not all grown adults who are for the most part acting independently of her.

With Alcina, she is the head of her own extremely brutal crimes. I think a lot of people have forgotten quite how horrifying the situations of the maidens are, possibly due to the prevalence shipping between Alcina and the maidens, and though we have minimal information what we do know is very frightening. Alcina uses her work force like livestock, draining them for their blood in a cellar full of horrific torture devices, and leaves their corpses to shamble around, armed and ready to attack any unwanted guests that have slipped out of the daughter’s clutches so that Alcina still doesn’t have to do her own dirty work, given how highly above everyone but Mother Miranda she appears to view herself as. While yes, Alcina does need human blood to survive, her methods are brutal, and none of this has been enforced upon her by Mother Miranda. Similarly to Jack on occasion, she takes a great deal of pleasure in hurting and attacking Ethan as he runs from her. Additionally, everything she does to Ethan is against Mother Miranda’s request. While yes, it is retaliation after he killed Bela, the part I often see people leave out is that Alcina is equally as upset that he entered her property and was attempting to steal from her, and she isn’t just after him to kill him.

Alcina has also been an active participant in aiding Mother Miranda with at least one experiment, considering that I’d how she got her daughters. While I’m sure her strong admiration for Mother Miranda and Mother Miranda’s power over her has absolutely had an affect in this, that’s not something I’ll deny, Alcina is still a grown woman and in her written entries about this shows no qualms about her participation in this. Her general attitude towards others, using young women as a good source and turning men into scarecrows, also leads me to believe that she does not exactly care who gets hurt or taken advantage of when it comes to her and Mother Miranda’s personal endeavours.

Donna and Moreau are the two more sympathetic people within the four lords, but they are not innocent. To start with Moreau, he’s desperate for Mother Miranda’s approval, as well as the other lords. He’s insecure and lonely, and he’s doing what he has been instructed by Mother Miranda when it comes to protecting the flask. However, he does also take quite a bit of joy in trapping Ethan in the reservoir and swimming after him with the intention to eat and kill him. Moreau though, given his conditions and circumstances, is the one I think is the least to blame for what he does.

Donna is hard to discuss because we know so little about her. Her parents are dead, as well as whoever Claudia was to her, she communicates through Angie and she can cause those who enter her house to hallucinate. According to Mother Miranda, Donna is severely mentally ill and that is what has made her an unfit vessel. I think a lot of people took this to mean that Donna is unaware of what she is doing, that the hallucinations she is showing Ethan are frightening, but after having been a fan of this game for years I just can’t agree with that anymore. Donna intentionally lures Ethan into her house with visions of his supposedly dead wife. Donna is going after fears she likely knows Ethan has, making him relive Mia’s death, take apart a mannequin of her, listen to her voice panic over something being horribly wrong with Rose, all building towards the horrifying baby that chases him through the house. There is no way Donna doesn’t understand how what she is showing Ethan is distressing, especially when you consider that, given how she can make herself appear and disappear at will within Ethan’s vision and that Angie is sitting in the hallways stationary and unspeaking, Donna was likely close by Ethan at all times and could see and hear his frightened reactions to what she was intentionally showing him.

Donna’s death is upsetting, but Ethan was not just chasing her down and killing her. Donna was attacking him, or at least she was controlling her dolls to do so. It’s still a hallucination, but Ethan doesn’t know that. When faced with a threat that is keeping you trapped and trying to end your life, you will likely try to get away or try to fight back, as Donna is doing to Ethan after he starts to attack her and Ethan is doing to Donna when he thinks his life is still in danger. I would also like to remind everybody that Donna communicates through Angie. What Angie is saying, that’s Donna. Angie doesn’t talk or move once she’s dead, it is Donna who controls her.

Lastly, Heisenberg. I think Heisenberg is the one of the four most entrenched in headcanons. Headcanons are fine, I am never in this post trying to suggest they aren’t, but my issue comes in when people use them to try and change the canon of the game. For example, it’s fine to believe that Heisenberg was experimented on by Mother Miranda as a child, but that isn’t canon. It’s fine to believe that Heisenberg mourned the deaths of his siblings, but that isn’t canon. The opposite is, with Heisenberg not viewing the cult as an actual family and being very openly mean to all three other lords, even Donna and Moreau who seemingly haven’t done anything to slight him. While his goal of killing another Miranda is a very understandable and sympathetic one given what she has done to him, using a six month old baby as a weapon and trying to bring her father into the mix only to try to get him killed when he denies him is not. I cannot overstate quite how little Heisenberg actually cared for Ethan and Rose’s safety when it came to his goal, and given that we are playing as Ethan, Rose is the priority.

Heisenberg has built an army of corpses he has presumably stolen and desecrated. This is kind of fucked up actually, and done completely independently of Mother Miranda. He also puts Ethan through a very dangerous lycan gauntlet before he even reaches the factory, which makes it even stranger to me that people seem to interpret Heisenberg’s deal as something that would have benefitted both him and Ethan and as if he ever had Ethan’s safety in mind.

All four of the lords have tragic aspects to them and there are definitely reasons to sympathise with all four. They’re victims of Mother Miranda, who knows they will all be killed. She wants them to be, giving her less to deal with by the time she has Eva back. They never meant anything to her. Not Alcina or Moreau, who were desperate for her attention. Not Donna, suffering from her unspecified but apparently severe mental illness. Not Heisenberg, who was seemingly her favourite creation. However, all of them are grown adults who do their own bad things independently of her.

And it’s fine to still like them. It’s fine for them to be your favourite character. It’s fine to have happy or nice headcanons about them or want to kiss them or be their friend or to want them to have survived. It’s fine to like characters who do shitty things. It’s to be expected in a game series like Resident Evil. It’s a horror game series. People are going to do bad things.

I just find it so boring when people take away all their bite. What makes a character like Lady Dimitrescu so fun it’s that she’s completely over the top. She’s campy and ridiculous, her castle layout makes no sense, she’s got three kids made of swarms of flies dressed like a set of goth triplets, she’s a lesbian who’s castle is full of naked statues of women, she turns into a big dragon and laughs maniacally while flying around and trying to eat you. She’s evil and it’s fun. It’s the same with Heisenberg. He’s a campy show off with a fun voice and a massive hammer he never actually uses. He can control metal. He looks like a cowboy. He pronounced Miranda in a funny way. He talks to you over an intercom while trying to get you killed. They’re fun and evil and they fight over who gets to kill Ethan like they’re two little kids. It’s absurd.

What makes a character like Donna so scary is that she’s silently working in the shadows, unassuming at a first glance and unseen for most of the time in her house. She is the least threatening of the four upon first glance, and yet she has undeniably the most frightening part of the game. Pretending as if Donna is completely unaware of what she is doing and babying her like she is an incapable child waters her down completely and takes away from the effectiveness of her character.

Villain characters are great! They’re very often the highlight of the story they are in, and they aren’t real! The four lords especially are often so completely exaggerated in what they do as well. It’s fine to like villains! It doesn’t make you bad! Characters can be bad people and you can still like them!

It’s just frustrating seeing a group of very fun and exciting villains, all designed with different aspects of horror, all over the top and campy and stupid and fun, all doing their own set of fucked up things, watered down to a set of poor innocent victims who have never done any wrong ever. If you want Jack and Marguerite, take Jack and Marguerite. Lady Dimitrescu loves killing and eating women and Karl Heisenberg turns corpses into soldiers. They’re bad people and they do comically exaggerated bad things. If you can’t stomach liking a character like that, horror is probably not the genre for you. Unless it’s Resident Evil 7, I suppose, but apparently tall women aren’t hot when it’s Marguerite Baker crawling on the walls.

[aft3rhrs]

— game over ღ

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: exes to lovers

warnings: yandere, mentions of blood and murder, kidnapping, restraints, corruption, manipulation, obsession, angst, implied imprisonment, dub con, praise, degradation, dirty talk, hints of fear kink, spanking (like once), rough sex, creampie, implied multiple orgasms

The floor creaked quietly under a pair of heavy boots. You kept your eyes on them as he moved towards you, too stubborn to look up, and too frightened not to tremble.

"Oh, sweetheart," Yoongi cooed, crouching down in front of the bed. "I'm so sorry it took so long. Can't have the cops tracing my steps, can I?"

His fingers felt cool as he grasped your chin, and yet they did nothing to soothe the heat blooming through you. He smelled like snow, his cheeks rosy from the unforgiving bite of winter air.

Tilting your head, he kissed your taped mouth with utmost tenderness, like he wanted to leave a love note on the silver.

"Cold?" He murmured, noting the chills that erupted down your arms, his fingertip tracing their journey to your elbow.

In the golden glow of candlelight, with nothing but the pearly tape adorning your body, somehow, you weren't cold. Only uncomfortable, left sitting in the same position for what seemed like hours — knees bound to your chest, wrists tied together — though that was certainly the least of your problems.

"I'll untape your mouth now. Don't scream."

You shut your eyes as he reached upwards. A quick rip followed, the sting making you wince.

"Sorry," Yoongi soothed, stroking your hair, "Sorry, baby."

You didn't scream. It was pointless. He drove a long time to get here, civilization outside the tinted windows dwindling mile after mile. You had no doubt there was nowhere you could go, no one to hear your pleads for help. You'd sooner freeze to death trudging your way through the snow.

The arrogant smile playing on Yoongi's lips was infuriating. He looked like he could devour you, a cat that has finally caught its mouse.

"Good girl," he praised lowly, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger.

Your stomach flipped.

"Let me go."

It came out as a whisper.

His eyebrows raised, head cocking to the side. Probably not the smartest thing to come out of your mouth, but what else were you supposed to do? Accept your fate as his little pet?

Yoongi released the soft strand, as if he got burned.

"I've been locked up for half a year... And this is how my girl greets me?"

His girl.

Why was he doing this to you? You barely dated for a few months before he chopped up two men who have been bold enough to bother you. Parts of their bodies were still in the process of being found all over the south of Seoul.

Were you going to end up the same?

You swallowed the knot in your throat, willing your heart to stop pounding. No words came, your thoughts too frantic to make sense of.

Yoongi clicked his tongue.

"The usual bratty attitude I can handle. But silent treatment? I can't fucking stand it. Your stupid little friends had enough time to convince you I wasn't good for you, huh?"

"You did that yourself!" you suddenly shouted, eyes brimming with tears. They spilled over, dripping down your collarbone. "You killed people, kidnapped me like some fucking lunatic!"

Yoongi stared at you as you sniffled. Once the dam broke, the fear broke loose too, pouring all over your lungs, making it hard to breathe. Panic started setting in. You had no idea if your outburst was going to be punished, even though in the short time that you knew Yoongi, he had never caused you any harm.

If you ever knew him at all.

He narrowed his eyes. You hated the vulnerable position he forced you into, hated how his gaze felt like a phantom touch.

"I didn't kill any people. I got rid of trash, and I did it all for you. To protect you."

He buried his face in his hands, hiding the shine of his own tears.

"Fuck. Are you actually scared of me right now? I would never hurt you."

What did it matter? Nothing about this love was healthy, and you longed to rip your heart out of your lungs to numb the feeling. You couldn't do this; couldn't let him taint your morals, or at least, couldn't let him see that he started.

All you had to do was convince him, and then yourself.

It didn't matter. It didn't matter. It didn't matter.

"I hate you," you whispered.

Yoongi froze for a moment, then looked back up at you slowly. You stared right back into his eyes through your wet lashes, no longer disturbed by their dark depths. A flash of uncertainty passed through his expression, promptly replaced by a cryptic calmness.

He hummed, shrugging his jacket off.

"Let's play a game, then."

Your stomach jumped when he placed his palm on your shoulder, slowly turning you away from him.

His lips inched towards your ear, hot breath brushing over its shell.

"I don't believe you, not for a fucking second. But I'll entertain you."

You stared at the shelf in front of you, the melted candle wax and golden jewelry laid out beside red roses. The bouquet looked small and miserable after you threw it at him.

You felt just about the same; small. Helpless as he hovered behind you, his intentions unclear, your fate even more so. Your pulse quickened as seconds ticked by.

A loud gasp escaped you as he pushed you forward. Your head spun from the suddenness of the action, cheeks instantly burning and knees trembling.

You fell face first into the silk sheets, ass up, like a little doll for him to use. He had to hold on to your hip so you didn't tumble. You've never felt so powerless before, so stripped of your dignity, or so hot when you heard him unbuckle his belt.

The adrenaline rush intensified your emotions, made your throat close up. Only a whimper passed through your panicked breathing.

"Look at that," Yoongi murmured. "You're dripping already."

You flinched as you felt his finger run down your folds, clenching needily. Everything was happening too fast—

"I missed you too."

No preparation, no warning; one moment you were empty, and the next you were full.

He groaned, leaning over you, dropping his forehead onto your back, and his hand in between your thighs.

The stretch hurt. You could feel his cock twitching inside you, hard and thick as you pulsed around it.

No mercy, no patience; he started fucking into you, choked groans and wet smacks filling up the room. His fingers quickly parted your slick folds, rubbing into the little nub between them to ease the pain.

It worked — it bloomed into a searing pleasure that made your tummy and your vocal cords quiver, soft, helpless whines fleeing your lips.

"Fuck," he cursed, his voice broken, "fuck, you were made for me."

You shivered, finding yourself unable to fight against the restraints he put on you. Nevermind the tape; it was your soul that was truly imprisoned, and that made everything ten times worse.

His lips touched your ear again.

"If you don't come," he whispered, panting softly, "I'll let you go. But if you do, you will stay with me forever, do you get that, baby?"

Was this the game?

Fear clutched your heart in its iron fist, mingled with your most private, forbidden desires and desperate needs, made your eyes and your pussy wetter.

He reveled in it all.

"Go on," he taunted, "show me how much you hate me."

You did hate him.

Because nothing else made you feel like this, no matter what your friends said, no matter what seemed right or wrong. The blood on his hands dripped like an offering, all for you, a threat and a promise that predators loved, too, that they'd kill to protect their own. There was no life for him without you.

You urged yourself to hold on, to not give into your weaknesses. But it was hard when you were already tightening around him, on the brink of delirium and craving more.

"Yeah, there she is," Yoongi breathed. "My dirty little slut. My good fucking girl."

You cried out, your entire body tensing up. His cock throbbed inside you, rutting into you faster.

"Almost there? Are you gonna gonna let me keep you, baby? Chain you the fuck up like a good bitch?"

He was so close, playing dirty just to tip you over the edge, just to prove that you belonged to him. Hands curling into fists, you made an effort to focus, whining out a "no" that sounded pathetic even to your own ears.

"Yeah," Yoongi moaned. "Filthy fucking liar."

His fingers dug deeper into your hips, the hard grip marking your skin, planting the memory of this moment beneath it. Bruises would blossom tomorrow, and he wished he could see them all over you, a violet garden that grew from his love. Yet all he could do was slam into you faster, abuse that little spot inside you that his cock reached with way too much ease.

"Stop fighting it," he grunted, landing a sudden slap on your ass. "You're mine."

The harsh sting, the cursed words, the heat — it was all too much. The tension stirred and coiled in your abdomen, making black dots dance around your vision. Your cunt squeezed his cock desperately, barely allowing him to continue fucking you.

As if you were under water, everything became blurred, and soaked, with tears, with sweat and the orgasm rushing through you, encouraged by his filthy groans. So wet you didn't even realize he was coming too, until he stilled entirely, spilling inside you as you limped.

You listened to his breathing slow, your body thrumming, head pulsing with blissful nothingness. Too high and too weak to do anything but breathe with him.

A kiss was pressed into your spine.

"Mm... Should I give you one more chance?"

At that, you seemed to come back to your senses, breath hitching and eyes open wide.

Yoongi smirked, running his fingers along the tape softly.

"Let me grab a knife, pretty. I'll get you nice and comfy."

You almost flinched when he leaned over you again, his cock jerking and hardening in your sensitive hole.

"You did so well," he whispered into your ear. "Such a good, little bitch. I'm so in love with you."

A weak shudder went through you, ending with an ache right in between your legs.

Yoongi nuzzled your neck.

"Yeah, there you go. Don't you worry. We have all night to play."

Was it fair to play games one was destined to lose? Probably not, but unfortunately for you, that made it all more exciting to Yoongi. He wanted you to see yourself fail over and over, realize there was no running from your love.

It seemed you were about to.

He slipped out of you gently, biting his lip and watching his cum dribble out of you. His hand slid down to your ass, giving it a few, tender pats.

"Sit tight, sweetheart."

With that, he left you on his bed, again, ruined and aching and beyond lost. You heard him rummage through his drawers somewhere in the cabin, heard your heart beating in your own skull.

For some reason, you had a feeling this was just the beginning of a whole eternity. Hit play. Lose. Repeat. Try another level. Until your bones turned to dust and you were wrapped up in each other six feet under the ground. There was a sadistic side to Yoongi that seemed to enjoy the process, the struggle, the conquering of your mind.

Not surprising in the slightest; all dangerous creatures liked to play with their prey. Even more so when they loved it... And Yoongi would never stop loving you.

taglist 💌: @baalsgurl1913 @httpsbts @hoseokshobagi @pynkgothicka @ar14dna @sweetempathprunetree @blueberryarchive @messyjk @themochiverse @minyoongiboongi @chimmisbae @crisle19 @bangtans-momma @bnagtanx1306 @get-that-brain-working @babycandy111 @shyygrl

[buckyshusband0]

𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

pairing; DarkProfessor!August Walker x M!Reader

☬— nsfw content. dark themes. body worship. degrading/praising. jealous themes. mentions of past trauma. rough sex. descriptions of violence/murder. daddy kink. knife play. verbal insults.

summary; After having a first glance at you, professor August knew he wanted to make you his. The only thing stopping him was that you were a forbidden obsession. Not only an obsession, but you were his student.

THE brightness of the sun seeped through the jet-black curtains as the morning day came to a beginning for August Walker. A slight groan escaped his lips as he pushed himself up and leaned his muscular back against the dark bed frame.

His hooded eyes looked around the bedroom as a — quiet but still audible — sigh left his mouth. His hand gestured over his beard as he got up from his bed to get ready for the day.

Once he was ready, he made his way into his jet-black car with a black hot coffee in his hand. After a 10-minute drive towards the university, August slammed his car door shut and marched his six-foot frame towards his classroom.

Attending a university when your professor is August Walker, of course, he would get all the lust-filled eyes from the girls as he walked through the halls with his slightly unbuttoned shirt and his sleeves rolled up on his muscular arms.

Why wouldn't he?

He walked around the place like he owned it. He knew he had this hold of power over everyone in the university, and he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it. The girls worshipped the ground he walked upon, wanting every but of him. But he didn't care for them.

But August only cared for one person. A person who was so naive as to not even recognize the thoughtful acts he would do for him every day. Someone he would secretly protect without his knowledge.

That person was you...

His beautiful sweet angel. You looked shy when you were not with the right people, but when you were, a beautiful smile would break out on your face. As soon as he saw you enter his classroom, August lost his breath as he knew you were going to cause him problems. He was clear that you caused him to have an obsession with wanting you.

They say "love at first sight" doesn't exist, but with August, he felt that love for you blossom out of his stone-cold heart. You were like a plague, something which invaded his mind 24/7.

He couldn't stop thinking about you.. he felt compelled to have you underneath him, to feel your soft skin under his touch. To hear your sweet moans as he gave you the pleasure you most desired. August needed you...

As time goes by, the hallway that was once flooded by people begins to become empty from people going to their lectures. Your soft lips pressed against Zayn, your boyfriend as he forcefully kissed you hard. His hands went to your arms—where bruises covered—and let his mouth form into a smirk.

Zayn was your boyfriend of 2 years.

He wasn't always like this, he was once a loving man. But something inside of him switched. Something to cause you harm. You were too naïve to notice any of his wrongs.

"We're going out tonight, baby," Zayn ordered. He never asked you, just ordered. He never asked why you would cry yourself to sleep, why you would feel like something was holding you down. Your heart clenched and your eyes would cry until they couldn't no more from the way Zayn wouldn't even reassure you.

Reassurance was all you needed...

As he spoke, you nodded before walking away to enter your lecture. When you walked into the room, your professor, August Walker, was talking to a student until his words came to a stop. Without your knowledge, your presence made August happier.

One thing ran through his wretched mind the whole time he taught everyone who stayed sat the whole time, paying attention to the words that flowed out of his mouth. You...

August couldn't help himself but picture what your beautiful body would look like under his. Your sweet angelic moans would escape your lips from the pleasure that he knew you desired — That he desired. He wanted you and only you.

The sinful thoughts that would pop up in his mind caused him to stutter while he was teaching the class that you were sitting in. How could he not? Your (e/c) eyes connected with his every time he would talk, and just by making eye contact with you, his pants tightened.

August knew that he couldn't breathe without you… You were the main cause of his morning awakening. He was aware that this forbidden obsession with you would get him into trouble, yet he didn't care. He was only aware that you were going to be his.

No matter what.

✰ -- --- --- -- ✰

The terrible smell of alcohol reeked through the club.

August felt the — almost silent — wooden floor creak under his heavy feet as he entered the place. The sight of people letting their bodies lose to the music and chugging alcohol into their system made August grimace with a scowl on his face the whole time.

He walked over to the bar — which was crowded with many slouchy men— with his broad shoulders and towering stance. He gives a sharp nod to the bartender whose eyes were glued onto him, waiting for his order and hurried to get a beer at his command.

The sound of unfunny jokes could be heard being thrown around from man to man as August's blue eyes observed the crowded place. He was here for one thing only—well someone...

August knew you would be here.

That is what he loves to believe—that he wasn't stalking or following you. He wasn't, He was protecting you. Protecting you in any way from the risks that this world might pose to you. He was aware that he had to keep his beautiful angel safe from harm.

Because if something were to happen to you at the hands of someone else, they would have seen the devil himself, only God knows. August would happily cover his hands in the blood of the person who had the audacity to harm what was rightfully his with a smile on his damn face.

His hand gestured gently to his pocket to feel for the pocket knife he always carried with him just in case someone ever tried anything with you. He knew no one would try to attack him because of his threatening build and hovering height.

And then, his eyes connected to your figure.

He felt a muscle in his jaw ticks from the scene that was happening in front of him. You were—drunkenly dancing—with another student of his from another class, Zayn.

August couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing. His face turned into a dark red and his knuckles turned white. The sudden sound of glass breaking caused him to step out of his trance and look down at his bloodied hand.

"Fuck." August whispers as his vision darkened at the sight of seeing the—used to be fixed—beer bottle now broken into little pieces in his hand. But, he could care less about his wound. What he really cared about was the anger that he had never felt when he watched you grind onto another man.

Another man who isn't him...

Jealousy hasn't been so clear before, but it was painted like a perfect picture on a canvas on August's face. His brows furrow when he could see Zayn forcefully pull you into a hallway where no one was in and that makes him stand up harshly.

He steps into the — lightly dimmed — hallway and hides behind a wall to observe what is happening. His nostrils flare with anger and envy coursing through his veins from the thought of you being with someone else. Someone who isn't him...

"C'mon, baby... stop being scared and let me touch you..." Zayn whispered drunkenly into your ear as his hands caressed your body. He had you pushed against the wall and even though you were drunk, you clearly didn't want this.

"Zayn, I-I don't want this." You muttered under your breath as you felt his slimy hands make their way under your shirt. You felt an uneasy feeling in your stomach from his touch.

You didn't like it.

You wanted this to stop. "Baby quit bitching and let your boyfriend fuck you," Zayn said with anger and impatience as you didn't let him touch you the way he wanted to. He could see that you were uncomfortable, but he didn't care.

Zayn always loved that feeling he had with you. The feeling of power. He had knowledge about how you're childhood was and why you're this naïve now — which is why he loves to take advantage of you. He loves having a sense of power over you.

But you were done with it.

"I said, stop!" You shout and roughly push Zayn off to get him far away as possible and march your way out of the exit with tears trying to fight their way to escape your eyes.

August's eyebrows lower as he sees you walk out and debates whether or not he should follow you, but he can't just let Zayn walk away feeling happy with himself. He couldn't let Zayn walk away freely after hurting his angel mentally and physically.

And with that, August steps out from behind the wall and marches his heavy feet towards Zayn whose brows furrow from seeing his professor. "Professor Walk-" His words are cut off when a straight punch connects to his jaw, sending him to the rough ground.

His face starts to get covered in crimson-red blood as August continues laying punch after punch onto this fuckers face for touching and disrespecting his sweet angel.

He was going to pay for what he did...

"If I ever hear you talk to y/n or touch him like that again, I will not hesitate to hurt you again. And so God help me, if I find out you were to hurt him again—" August lets out a low evil chuckle and lays another punch onto his broken rib. "I'll kill you with a smile on my face." He seethes through his teeth as he starts to stand up.

"F-Fuck you man!" Blood covers his ugly teeth and a smirk makes its way onto August face as Zayn coughed up more blood.

"Just know this, Zayn, and hear me clearly..." August reaches for the knife in his pocket and retracts it. He roughly injects the cold metal blade into Zayn's stomach and leans in toward his ear. He licked his soft pink lips before speaking.

"He's mine."

Zayn's brown eyes widen from the blood that was rushing out of his body. His skin turning pale, and his eyes fighting to stay open. His vision slowly turning black as the last thing he saw was August's dark shadow walk away from him. He was left there to die. Left alone.

✰ -- --- --- -- ✰

Darkness was all you could see.

The sound of crickets could be heard as you walked on the rough concrete with your arms crossed. The chilling breeze caused your body to shiver and bumps to grow on your skin.

Your thoughts were running wild as you walked to get back home. You couldn't believe what just happened. You actually stood up for yourself... sort of. The sudden sound of a loud honk and beaming lights came behind you and you started walking faster.

"No, no, no, no."

You whispered under your breath hoping the person in the jet-black car would just surpass you and not think to look back. That was until it stopped right by your side and the window rolled down and you felt your eyes widen from who you saw.

"Professor August?" You questioned the knowing face. Worry covered your professor's face as he observed the unsafe environment that you and he were currently in.

"y/n? What are you doing out here walking alone at this time? It's not safe." August said sternly with concern laced in his husky deep voice. You frown not wanting to tell him what happen, but he already knew. Hell.. he even dealt with the problem.

August could still see the way how your body didn't stand up straight, so he knew you were still drunk. "Get in, I'm taking you to my place." You were too drunk to even comprehend what he was really saying, so with that you got into his car and felt how soft the passenger seat was. His face was lightly lit up from the street lights and you couldn't help yourself but think how attractive August is. You feel your body grow with heat and your eyes widen slightly with the sinful forbidden thoughts that rush through your mind. 'Stop it y/n... he's your professor.' You thought to yourself as he drove to his apartment.

Now you were sitting on the end of his bed waiting for him to come back with a glass of water he said he would get. August let a gentle smile come onto his face at the thought of him taking care of you.

This is how it should be...

Him making sure you're safe, well-fed, cleaned, and loved. He needed to love on you like no one else could. He wanted to be yours as much as he wanted you to be his. He couldn't help the feeling of butterflies crawling their way into his stomach at the thought.

He brings the glass of water and lays it down gently on the desk. "Are you okay, angel?" August asked with a soft tone he would only use with you. You are so special to him and you don't even realize... Too blind to see the acts he has act upon for you to notice him.

He let out a soft breath as he looked down at you and saw an unfamiliar look in your (e/c) eyes. "Angel are you-" August's words were cut off when he felt a pair of lips connect with his. A bright pink shade reached his cheeks as you kissed him, and God did he love the feeling. The feeling of your soft lips on his...

He soon returned the passionate kiss and felt the butterflies he once felt, come rushing back in. Fuck he needed you so bad... Your tongues soon started to dance with each other—fighting for dominance. He backed away from the kiss to connect his lips to the soft skin of your body and gestured over every mark on your body.

"You're so beautiful..."

His tall muscular body leans in towards your ear, his hot breath exhaled towards your (s/c) skin which made unwanted goosebumps arrive. His next words left you to let out a soft whine escape your lips.

"I'm gonna fucking ruin you angel.."

August's words made a smile reach onto your face as you leaned back onto the silky sheets of the bed and reached your hands out for him to take. He threads his rough fingers into your soft-like ones and puts them over your head. He leans in for another kiss until you have to pull away—which causes a string of salvia to form—to catch the loss of breath.

Your body was in bliss as you felt nervous under his touch. His blue dilated eyes held nothing but lust and love. As you feel his hands gesture over your thighs, you look away but instantly feel a finger under your chin to reconnect your hungry gaze to his.

"Look me in my eyes as I fuck you, angel."

You swallow a growing lump in your throat and nod to the six-foot man's order. Without warning, you felt a soft pair of plump lips against your hole and your eyes widen from the euphoric feeling that made its way towards your stomach.

It was all happening so fast. Soft moans escape from your lips and your eyes roll to the back of your head as your toes curl. Your fingers thread through August's brown hair and you pull at it roughly which causes a muffled grunt to leave him.

The eye contact August was making was so real. His eyes filled with—nothing but lust and love— never stopped looking at you as he ate you out like you were his last meal. "Fuck, that feels so good!" You moaned out loud, not holding back any noises. Your body jolts up when you feel three fingers curl up inside of you and penetrate your hole roughly. Your cock leaking as you felt your orgasm rushing in already.

"Shit, I'm so close, keep going-" Your words were cut off when he yanks his fingers away from you to your wet tongue, leading them. As he forces you to suck on the fingers that are already within you, he inserts another finger. He moves them into scissor motions as he removes them from your lips to show how wet they have become.

"You're not gonna fucking cum till I say so, understand?" August growled out and all you could do was nod until you felt his thick cock push itself into you. Your eyes widen from the size of it and sweet moans escaped your lips.

"A-August..." You mumble a whisper as he thrusts deep inside of you over and over. You couldn't believe what was happening. This felt so... so real. August hands caressed your body, worshipping every part of it. Like the beauty you are. Your touch, your moans, your fucking sweet scent. August couldn't hold back any longer. He felt his cock twitch inside your pulsing hole—which signaled he was about to cum.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum! Cum with me, angel... cum with me like the good boy you are." He moaned out. The scratches that you caused on his back start to turn a dark shade of red and his eyes roll to the back of his head as he felt his sticky, white cum paint the inside of your walls— like a blank canvas waiting for its artist to perfect a masterpiece.

A masterpiece is what you are...

Letting out a huge sigh of relief, August pulls out of you and falls down onto the soft sheets. You fall onto his chest and lay a gentle kiss on his chest as you look up at him. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tight, as if you could disappear at any second.

He couldn't let that happen.

You were finally in his arms, exactly where he wanted you. The butterflies started to flutter once more as soon as he felt your presence next to him. You were, after all, his to hold, feed, care for, and protect—his beautiful forbidden obsession.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───  

[molluskmirage]

the boogeyman effect following Bbh from purgatory 1 has been a very fascinating phenomenon.

there is alot of residual and lingering opinions of Bad from both characters and fans and its been interesting because having watched Bads pov he really didnt do anything more then what others did in purgatory. Q!Phil is mad because Bad terrorized his team but bad had far less kills then Tubbo, and plenty other teams were around terrorizing others Fit slaughtered Tina and soulfires farmers (most of which then never returned)

Q!Tubbo is mad for ‘day 12’ for a poor decision Bad made, but Bad was carrying the team mostly alone for many many hours the whole 2 weeks (the most out of anyone on the team) I think he could be forgiven for not having the clearest decision making skills running ragged and getting killed.

Q!Bagi feels betrayed by bad and has been more comfortable around tubbo since p1 but tubbo murdered her before she could say a word in p1 and Bad asked for her consent first before doing so.

Q!Etoiles is salty about the 2v1 but he and Fit started it by attacking tubbo alone who then had to run to bad and it was a 2v2 before then becoming a 2v1 as Fit backed away injured

Q!Phil has also mentioned that bad has not taken responsibility for his actions and this is echoed a lot in fan spaces but Bad is constantly taking on blame for things he may have only been adjacent too. He’s said he’s killed a lot of people, he jokes that he’d do it again. He doesnt often show remorse for his actions which I think is more what some are after but he does acknowledge things he doesn’t pretend it never happened. He told Pepito he was a monster. And anytime some express anger towards bad he respects their feelings (that doesn’t mean he’d chose to act differently or feel remorse in such actions but he doesn’t tell anyone theyre not allowed to feel that way)

its a fascinating subject to me because this effect has carried over so strongly within the space despite the fact Bad didn’t even have the highest kills in p1 for soulfire (it was Tubbo by quite a margin) yet Tubbo is often unnamed as the wrongdoer. Bagi set up Bad for death, while it didn’t come to fruition she still did that to Bad. Bad could not do anything but run when red team took on the bounty system which was excruciating to watch. Red also showed no mercy when the boats arrived and killed Bad the sole player for blue leaving his body in a zone that would kill a naked player.

Bad did do wrong he spawn killed Jaiden. However his stalking home bases and killing others in general was no different then all of the other skilled players repertoire. Bad had to play offensively for his team the majority of the time as he was one of the few that could, yet the boogeyman effect holds onto him and warps even his own members perceptions after the fact. Q!Tina as an example very enthusiastic about letting Bad loose in p1 too then scolding him for actions he took under her instruction.

The fan narrative has been the most acutely difficult to manage as the effect is almost to mystic proportions and finding disdain for even mundane actions Bad takes and reading into those as disingenuously as possible always set on more then retribution but truly an end to his character. Which again having watched Bads POV I havent been able to discern anything remarkable that any other character hasnt also partook in.

The difference I have noted is that Bad will always consider himself in the wrong regardless if his actions had justifiable reason behind it. Dapper told Bad to win in purgatory. After purgatory Bad put himself and Dapper down as ‘oh thats just something Dapper would say hes just bloodthirsty, but narratively Dapper has committed self harm in order to protect his siblings and other islanders ((an issue Dapper unfortunately sees in his father and perpetuates himself)) believing he is nothing more then a tool to help those he loves, he would not risk his siblings lives for bloodthirsty humor. Bad knows this but when faced with the hate others saw in him he waves off both his and his sons merit buckling down. Bad and Dapper have dark humor but are always making gifts and finding ways to help others. There is nothing on the island Bad is more set to protect then the eggs and this thought with Dappers message, Q!Bad really thought he needed to go all out to protect them, even still he held back a lot and would 2nd guess because he wanted to be absolutely certain of the egg’s safety.

He wasnt without reason yet with the boogeyman effect looming over his reasons never seem to be able to hold a candle to the more popular characters, and he often concedes a lot to it. He says it with a laugh, tease, and is sassy with it but still he concedes to others perceptions of him as he doesnt want to override others feelings. It can be a bit exhausting as things are blown out of proportion to what they were in originality but on a social breakdown of how things and information travels its very very interesting and I have been enjoying the dive even if it stings sometimes with reflective thoughts.

[heartsforhavik]

possession (yandere bi-han/sub-zero x reader)

warnings: mentions of blood and murder, bi-han is possessive

summary: yandere bi-han takes care of your shitty ex boyfriend. reader is gender neutral.

a/n: i haven’t written a yandere character in sooo long. i chose bi-han just bc he’s easy to write as a yandere :3 anyways next one i write will be a yandere smoke x reader so stay tuned

bi-han was always possessive over you. the moment he laid eyes on you, he knew you were his. he carefully pretended to be your friend and then court you like a normal person, hiding his true colors.

he knew he would most likely scare you away if he showed his true colors too soon. he had to wait until he knew you’d never leave him. he had to be patient. but he couldn’t hold back anymore after he saw you crying.

“love.. why are you crying?” bi-han asked, gently holding you in his arms.

“it’s just..” you hesitated to tell him, knowing that he doesn’t know about your ex-boyfriend. you haven’t told him yet.

your boyfriend held you, waiting patiently for your answer, and getting ready to comfort you. if someone said something to make you cry, bi-han would rip out their spine and bring it to you. if it was anything else, he would just hold you for hours and not let go.

“my ex. i can’t stop thinking about all the shit he did to me.” you admitted, wiping your tears.

bi-han’s gaze turned cold. “your ex? who is he? what did he do to you?”

his grip on you tightened. he needed to know who it was. so he can teach the bastard a lesson.

he was also jealous of your ex. he got to hold you first, he got to kiss you first, and he got to call you his. but he fucked up by hurting you. bi-han will not let him live with those sins.

you told him all about your ex and what he did to you. you opened up to bi-han about all the trauma you endured because of your ex. and how he was the reason you were hesitant to get in another relationship.

bi-han struggled to stay calm. how dare he hurt you...

he had the audacity to hurt you? you’re so precious. so delicate, like a flower. you were so lucky to have bi-han as a boyfriend. he can protect you. he can hold you and keep you safe from harm.

“where is he?” bi-han asked, but it sounded more like a demand.

“i don’t know? he’s most likely at his house right now. why?” you questioned.

“give me his home location.” bi-han commanded.

you looked up at him in confusion. “huh?”

“don’t make me repeat myself.” bi-han sneered.

startled by his sudden anger, you blurted out your ex’s location. bi-han immediately got up and left to find the bastard and make him pay for what he did.

you couldn't sleep that night. bi-han left and still hadn't came back yet. did something happen to him?

you were worried sick, until you heard rustling and grunting outside. that had to be him, right? nobody else is awake at this time.

you walked outside, barely being able to see anything, but you saw your boyfriend slowly dragging something behind him.

"bi-han? what is that?" you whispered. your boyfriend stopped in his tracks when he heard your voice.

you took a closer look at what he was dragging. it was a dead body... but it was unrecognizable, almost as if it was beat to death. you assumed it was just some random guy the lin kuei killed, until you noticed the clothes. that dead body had your ex-boyfriend's clothes.

"by the gods.. did you kill-"

"he cannot hurt you anymore. he was a fool to put you through pain. i simply taught him a lesson. and now, you can live in peace. with me." bi-han interrupted, as he dropped the body and held you in his bloody arms.

you looked up at him, and he had a terrifying look in his eyes. this man enjoyed beating your ex to death.

"you know i will do anything for you," bi-han continued. "if i must get my hands dirty in your honor, then so be it. you need me, don’t you? without me, more people will target you and damage you. you're welcome, my flower."

he was trying to convince you not to leave him. how could you leave, when he just demonstrated what he is capable of when he is angry?

"i don't know about this, bi-han..." you whispered.

his eyebrows furrowed. "what do you mean? you know i can protect you, so why can't you trust me? if anything were to happen to you... i would tear the world apart. if you dare defy me, then i must teach you a lesson."

you panicked. you didn't want to end up like your ex. "no! i'm not defying you, love."

"good. it pleases me that you and i can live happily together now. nobody can hurt you while i am around. i will not let that happen." bi-han mumbled.

he meant every word he said. he will keep you safe from harm. he would never hurt you, so you must stay with him.

[ghostkennedy]

I HAVE A REQUEST PLEASEE MAKE ONE WHERE LEON AND READER ARE ENEMIES TO LOVERS AND HAVE A SIMILAR SCENE WHERE LEON AND MARIA ARE FIGHTING IN DEATH ISLAND. I HOPE IT MAKES SENSE.

PLEASE YOU CAN IGNORE THIS IF YOU DONT WANT TO DO IT BUT PLEASEE IM BEGGING YOUUU

Demolition Lovers

~DI! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader~

Leon and beloved Reader are our demolition lovers. Make sure you give that song by MCR a listen. I was worried about this one, but I fucking looooved writing it.

Word count: 2138

Content warnings: the girlies are fighting-physically and vocally, traumatized reader, villain reader, talk of death, attempted murder, knives, blood, strangling, choking, crying, screaming, angst, smut, sexual content, kissing, p in v sex, reader is riding, creampie, unprotected sex

!!!!!!MINORS DNI! GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+!!!!!!

“Do you always have to get in the fucking way of everything, Kennedy?”

Leon scoffs at your remark. “What am I supposed to do? Let you end the world for some personal vendetta? Is that it?”

You laugh as you step further into the giant lab, having caught Leon meddling in your plans again. The man never fucking stops, does he? He’s been in your business, getting his hands dirty with your mess for years now.

It’s funny how much he still tries to protect you, keeping your treacherous actions a secret, regardless of how many times you come back to attempt the same thing. Somehow still believing there’s a good person inside of you, perhaps a person who could still empathize with him. Maybe if you coped with the trauma, your need for revenge would subside. You’re tired of his wishy-washy bullshit.

You’ll never be satisfied until the whole world knows your pain. Knows what it feels like to lose control of yourself no matter how hard you try to fight it. To watch the world from your own fucking eyes and being locked away somewhere inside your own head. A mere spectator as your hands are controlled by something else entirely.

Every last person left on the planet after everything is said and done will know what it feels like to watch your own hands kill the people you love while there’s absolutely nothing you can do to stop it. 

You shake your head at him. “I’m sorry I have to kill you. It’s nothing personal, I promise.”

“I wish you’d been more creative. You guys always try to end the world. It’s getting repetitive if I’m being honest.”

You laugh loudly, your hand quickly grabbing the knife strapped to your leg and tossing it at the man’s forehead.

Your distraction is not nearly enough to stop Leon from dodging the hit.

He throws himself out of the way of your flying knife and you charge him, unsheathing another knife strapped to your chest.

You’re in front of him in an instant. You kick your leg up in an attempt to knock him off his balance again, but he grabs your ankle and pushes you around.

You recover quickly, spinning around until you’re back face to face with him. Your hand swings the knife towards his neck, but he grabs your wrist.

He goes to kick your feet out from under you, but you quickly jump, kneeing him hard in the abdomen. 

You both recover before either of you can even blink, both back in stable stances instantly. 

You fake out a hit to his face. When he reaches up to stop the blow, your other hand is jolting the knife towards his stomach.

His forearm stops your punch from connecting, while his free hand bashes down into your wrist brandishing the knife, forcing it to fall to the ground with a loud clang.

You pull your now knifeless fist back and go to connect with his jaw, but he arches his back, moving his face back from harm’s way.

In your frustration, you get sloppy, giving Leon the perfect opportunity to pounce.

He straightens his back as you lean down to grab your knife. When your back is curved down, he kicks his leg straight out, swinging it over top of you. His thigh connects with the back of your neck and sends your body crashing to the floor.

Before he can pin you to the floor, you quickly flip onto your back. You dig your nails into his thigh, allowing yourself to slide out from under him as his leg goes stiff. 

As you slide out, you pull his calf roughly, causing his leg to straighten out and him to lose his balance.

Before his chest can even make contact with the floor, you’re on his back. Your hands grab a fistfull of his hair and yank it back as he hits the floor.

You wrap your legs around his neck, locking your legs together as they cross at the front of his neck. 

You bring one of your forearms below his chin, pulling him up at an uncomfortable angle.

“It didn’t have to be like this, Leon.” You say in a fake empathetic voice.

He grunts and his voice comes out strained, “You’re a fucking puppet!”

“So are you!” You yell out. You can’t help but shake your head, “I guess we do have something in common after all.”

Leon flings his body, flipping you over.

Your back crashes into the ground as he straddles your abdomen, trapping your hands at your hips.

“I’m trying to fucking help you.” He gets out through gritted teeth.

Leon feels his irritation growing impossibly larger as you laugh, once again, “I didn’t ask for your help. You put yourself into this shit, that isn’t my fault.”

He stares into your eyes with a death glare and you send one of your own right back at him. 

You can feel one of your knives beneath your thigh. If you can just strain your arm enough, you could pull it closer with the tips of your fingers until you can get a proper grip on it. He’ll just think you’re trying to wiggle out, if you just stretch your fingers enough… there it is! 

In the blink of an eye, you wrap your hand around the weapon tightly and bring it up to Leon’s leg, slicing into his thigh. 

He grunts out and flinches at the sudden sting, and of course, you utilize the opportunity.

You push yourself out from underneath him, rising to your feet and he does the same, ignoring the pain in the back of his leg. 

He surges forward, reaching out to grab you. You jump up and grab a low hanging pipe swinging your legs over his shoulders. Your ankles lock behind his head, but he keeps moving forward, forcing you to let go of the pipe.

His arms reach out to try and push you off of him, but you grab onto his forearms to keep yourself from falling.

He continues forward until his hips make contact with a metal table, throwing your back against the cold surface. He wraps his hands around your throat and you pull your leg against your chest, pushing the bottom of your shoe against his face.

This doesn’t help at all, so you come up with another idea.

You wrap your legs around his waist, gripping him tightly between your thighs. His eyes widen in response and his grip on your throat loosens.

You’re able to gain the upperhand, changing positions and pushing Leon back onto the table. His feet leave the floor as you push him further down the cold metal, climbing up after him.

It’s your turn to straddle him and wrap your hands around his throat.

His hands shoot up, gripping tightly around your wrists in an attempt to pull them away from him. Your wrists feel like they’ll break between his hands, but you only allow that to fuel yourself, gripping his throat tighter.

“Why couldn’t you just stay out of my fucking way?” You yell out, frustrated and somehow devastated that it had to end up this way.

His voice is scratchy as he forces words out of his mouth despite his lack of air, “How–could I–do that? This is–just–too much–fun.”

“Just shut the fuck up!” You grit out through your clenched teeth, “I have to do this, Leon. I have to see this through.”

Leon continues to gasp for air, his face growing red and his mouth forced open. His eyelids flutter as he keeps trying to suck in a breath, but you just squeeze tighter. His hands are shaking around your wrists, his grip slowly loosening.

His eyes roll into the back of his head and a desperate, pathetic noise leaves his lips as the lack of oxygen to his brain takes over.

You don’t know what happens. You don’t know what comes over you, but you let him go. You pull your hands away from his throat and he sputters and coughs as he desperately sucks the air into his dry throat.

His eyes focus back on yours and you don’t realize you’re crying until you lick your lips and taste the salty tears on your tongue.

You’re overcome with so many emotions and for some reason, your frustration turns to pure rage. You ball your hands up into tight fists and start pounding them against his chest, hard. Over and over you punch him and he just lets you. 

You scream at the top of your lungs a banshee-like sound that you didn’t know you were capable of making. 

You don’t see him as your fists connect with his chest again and again. You see the people you lost while being controlled by a parasite. The people you loved dying from your finger on the trigger, your hand wrapped around the handle of the knife, your hands wrapped around their throats.

You’re pulled back to the present as Leon wraps his hands around your wrists and stills them. You’re panting, chest heaving as you struggle to catch your breath. 

His eyes meet yours and you squeeze yours closed, unable to meet him head on. 

“They don’t know the pain. No one knows how I fucking feel.”

Maybe you did lose your humanity to that parasite. Maybe it was too late and you’ll always be this fucked up.

You feel Leon’s warm hands cup your cheeks, “Look at me.”

You slowly open your eyes and see a concerned look in Leon’s eyes. You can’t bare it, can’t bare his worry to be about you. You can’t handle anyone worrying about you anymore. It makes them vulnerable, puts them in danger. Anyone who cares about you is immediately worse off because of the fact.

You just sit there, your face in his hands and your body straddling his hips, lost somewhere deep in your own head.

Your eyes widen when you register what he’s done.

He’s kissing you. Leon Kennedy is fucking kissing you. 

Why is he doing this? Why does it feel so fucking good? Why are you closing your eyes and leaning into the kiss? Why are you bringing your hands up to his hair and tangling your fingers in the strands?

You don’t know what possesses you to reach down between the two of you and palm his hardening cock through his pants. You don’t know what possesses him to reach down between you two as well and hastily undo his belt. You don’t know what possesses either of you and the actions you continue to take, furthering a situation that doesn’t make any fucking sense, but neither of you make any effort to stop. Quite the opposite really. 

He pushes his pants down his hips and you undo the button and zipper on yours and your fingers are shaking so much, fumbling with every move you make and all you know is that you can’t stop.

Not when you’re pushing your own pants and panties down your hips and off of your legs. Not when you grab his underwear and nearly rip them off of his body.

And especially not when you sink your wet heat down onto his hard cock and start bouncing up and down desperately as his fingers dig into your hips and make you go faster.

No. All you can think about is chasing your pleasure and his. It’s the first time in years that your mind has thought of anything besides revenge and forcing others to endure the same pain you feel every single fucking day.

You don’t feel the pain. All you can feel is the way your walls clench around his cock, trying to pull him closer, pull him deeper, until there’s not one single bit of your pussy left that hasn’t been speared on his cock.

And as you throw your head back, screaming out as your climax crashes through you, your mind goes completely foggy. You can’t think at all. All you can do is feel the tingling relief coursing through your body from your powerful release.

You feel his come flood your pussy and it feels so fucking good. Everything feels so good right now. And after nothing feeling good, not even close, for years, you know you’re addicted. 

You don’t have to give your pain to others to somehow release yourself from it. No. You’ve found a way to release it from yourself over and over and fucking over again.

God fucking dammit, Leon Kennedy. Always so determined to find a way to help you and by the grace of God or some other holy intervention, the prick has found it. He’s found it and you’re going to keep giving it to him willingly.

~masterlist~

[writerslittlelibrary]

I will help you

masterlist

summary: when your parents went to jail, you started your life in the foster system. it was never very great, and you ended up with an amount of bad coping mechanisms. to help you, you were put in a psych ward, and who happens to be your personal nurse? the woman who will stop at nothing to adopt you…

pairing: Dark!Natasha x foster teen reader

warnings: mentions of self-harm, mentions of abusive foster families, hints of kidnapping, mention of murder, mention of abuse, drugs, reader is basically not very happy…

genre: fluff, angst

words: 2884

a/n: this fic was inspired by @xanthreee thank you lovely for the suggestion and I hope you enjoy it 🫶

(please note I have no idea how psych wards work, so if anything is incorrect, I’m so sorry)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

You don’t remember much from that night. You suppose that’s how your brain protected itself from everything that happened. 

You remember the sirens, and you remember the police that invaded your home. They carried guns and were dressed in full protection gear. It was scary. That’s what you do remember. The feeling you had the moment your entire life was ruined. 

Sure, your father was never a great man, and sometimes he’d hit you, but he did it because he loved you. He needed to discipline you, because he cared. That’s what he told you. 

You never thought he was capable of something so vile, so sickening. And you could’ve never predicted your mother helped him.

You knew your father was aggressive. You knew he had sickening thoughts, but the fact he’d murder someone, just for his own enjoyment? You would’ve never thought your father was capable of such a thing. And the fact your mother helped him hide the body? You couldn’t possible process all this information at once. 

When you were put in the interrogation room at the police station, a man and a woman kept asking you questions. Had you known? Were you told to keep certain things a secret?

You hadn’t told them much. How could you? You were never allowed to tell anyone you were being hit at home. You were never allowed to tell anyone your father had some weird powder lying around. 

You were only 9 when it happened, but it had made an impression on you. 

The foster homes weren’t better than your home had been. At least you loved your parents, but now? These foster homes had people even more aggressive than your dad had been. They didn’t hit you to discipline you, they just did it because they felt like it. 

After being in the foster system for 4 years, your mental health started to go down hill. You never really visited your parents. 

You were mad at them, and you refused to let that anger slide.

After the police found a certain document, and you were called into the station to discuss it, you finally broke. That was the last straw. 

The police had found plans to pay off a debt your father had with some high important drug dealer. Apparently, he had wanted to use you as payment. Had the police not found the body when they did, you would’ve surely been in a much worse place then you were now. 

After learning that new piece of information, you broke. Your mind became darker than it already was, and your wrist became daily stained with fresh red blood. 

You had no control over your own life. Decisions were made for you, and you were thrown around from foster home to foster home with no care in the world. You didn’t have anyone that cared about you, and you needed a relief. 

Self-harming gave you back some control. After not having any control for so long, you gave yourself control over at least something, the pain. 

Controlling the pain worked, until you turned fourteen, and you became suicidal on top of it.

You started skipping school and laying in bed all day. You never did anything anymore. Your days consisted out of self-harming and scrolling on tiktok. 

You don’t exactly know how it happened, or when, but at some point, your foster parents had notified your case worker, and she had come to pay you a visit. Apparently, when foster children in your situation experienced mental health issues, and started showing signs of depression, you were immediately put in a mental health facility. 

You didn’t really care when they came for you. 

The ride in the ambulance was pretty peaceful. The man that was driving with you was very kind, and he had put up some of your favourite music to entertain you, and mostly keep you calm. 

When you arrived at the psych ward, you were terrified. 

You didn’t know what was going to happen, and you didn’t realise what you were supposed to do. The intake was one of the worst experiences you had ever had. 

It had been embarrassing and incredibly dehumanising, and when you were given paper clothes to put in, you nearly lost it. 

Luckily, after a few hours, that was over, and you were taken to your room by an old lady. 

She told you shortly how everything worked, and she gave you five minutes to change into the clothes provided for you before your personal nurse would come to assist you. 

Because you were classed as a high risk case, you were given a 24/7 nurse. She was supposed to keep her eye on you at all times, and make sure you never did or tried anything to harm yourself.

The moment the old nurse left, you quickly changed into the sweatshirt and sweatpants that were laid out on the bed. 

They weren’t the warmest clothes you had ever worn, but they were comfortable enough, and definitely better than those paper clothes you had been forced to wear. 

You changed fairly quickly, and after finishing you decided to just sit on the bed and wait. 

Your entire room was empty, and you weren’t allowed to bring anything in to entertain yourself. You had brought a bag of clothing, but apparently all of that was checked by some nurses, so you were left alone with your thoughts.

You tried to open the window, but it would barely open more than a few inches. 

You sighed and sat back down on the bed, staring out the window. You wished you could go home, but what did that even mean now? You had no home anymore. Your parents were gone. You weren’t going to see them in a long time, not that you wanted too, and your foster home basically got rid of you when they put you in the mental hospital. 

You were truly and utterly alone…

Soon, you were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the door opening. A red-headed woman walked in. She had a kind smile on her face, and she was dressed in a nurse outfit. 

“Hello, y/n. I’m Natasha. I’m here to keep my eye on you,” she explained, smiling sweetly at you. That was quite straight forward…

You simply nodded, letting your gaze fall to the floor. 

Natasha took a few steps forward, crouching down to your level and placing her hand on you knee. 

“I know you have been through a lot, but I promise you, I will do anything in my power to help you get better,” she explained, smiling sweetly as she gently rubbed your knee. 

You simply nodded, giving her a small, awkward smile before looking back to the ground. 

Natasha didn’t take any offence, instead just standing up and lending you her hand. “Your room seems kind of boring. Maybe we should go and see if we can find some colouring supplies, and we can maybe try and decorate it a little,” she suggested, and you didn’t take long before you took her hand. 

She helped you up, not letting go of your hand as she walked to the door, leaving the room, dragging you along with her. 

She led you through a few hallways, explaining where certain things were, and explaining how you didn’t need to do anything if you weren’t comfortable with it. 

To say you were relieved would be an understatement. You had heard horror stories of people in mental hospitals, where they were forced into group therapy sessions, and if they didn’t comply they’d be punished by having to stay longer. 

You were quiet as Natasha led you around, not once letting go of your hand. 

After showing you the main hallway, she led you to some kind of common area, where there were tables filled with other kids. 

All seemed a bit older than you by at least a few years, but they didn’t even acknowledge you as Natasha led you through the tables, to a closet by the wall. Some of the kids greeted Natasha, clearly having met her before and taking a liking to her. 

When you reached the closet, Natasha let go of your hand, opening the doors and letting you see all the art supplies the closet carried. 

There was yarn, crochet hooks, glue, paper, crayons, tape, and even more. 

There were also pencils and scissors, but those were in locked boxes. You figured those were only taken out when there was supervision. Natasha grabbed a blank sketchbook, asking you if you wanted pencils or crayons. 

You gave her your preference, and you watched as she took everything from the closet. 

“Let’s go back to your room. It’s a bit calmer there,” Natasha stated, and you nodded as you anxiously glanced around the room. You were never a big fan of people, but right now, you were already freaked out, and all the people you were surrounded with didn’t help in the slightest.

Once Natasha had balanced everything in one hand, she grabbed yours again, squeezing it reassuringly as she gave you another kind smile, leading you through the tables and all the way back to your room. 

Once you were back in your room, Natasha set all the supplies down on the small table, pulling a chair out and taking a seat. 

You followed her example, pulling the other chair out and accepting the paper Natasha handed you. As you started drawing, Natasha started drawing too, probably to make it less awkward and confronting. 

She asked you multiple questions about yourself. They varied from your favourite colour, to how you felt about your parents and their actions. 

You answered most of them, and tried to answer them as honest as possible. 

You liked Natasha. She made you feel safe, and she talked as if she truly cared about you. You like how she made you feel. You felt at ease around her. Besides, she told good jokes. 

After finishing your drawing, Natasha hung it up for you.

You asked if her drawing could be hung next to it, and Natasha agreed as she picked her own drawing up, hanging it next to yours. 

You smiled at the drawings, and Natasha smiled at you. Maybe staying in a psych ward wasn’t the worst thing ever. 

-------------------------------------------------------------

You had been in the psych ward for a little over a week, and until now, you were pretty much enjoying yourself. 

It was a little boring at times, and you had definitely had better things to eat in your life, but with Natasha around you almost all the time, you felt safe and cared for. You heard other people in the psych ward complain about their nurses, and about how they wanted time to themselves. 

You, on the other hand, had never felt more content. 

Wherever you went, Natasha was always there, helping you, talking with you, or just staying silent and keeping you company. 

You had grown quite fond of Natasha, and even though you didn’t know it, Natasha had grown quite fond of you too. She didn’t even want to think about the moment you would have to leave, and she would have to pick up a new patient. 

She had grown quite close to the little girl she was supposed to take care of. She cared about you, and she knew she was the only person in the world that ever would.

No one would ever care about you the way she did. 

After taking care of you for only a week, she had applied at multiple adoption agencies, wanting herself and her home to be cleared for fostering and adoption. She was told the process would go fairly quickly, seeing as though she was a licensed mental health nurse. 

If anyone was capable of adopting, it would be her. She just hoped the entire process was done before you go out. 

You had told her multiple times how much you enjoyed spending time with her, and Natasha had always told you how much she enjoyed spending time with you as well.

She had told you what a great kid you were and how you were a very nice person to be around. You were more than grateful that she was the nurse assigned to you, and you had told her that. Natasha had merely smiled and told you how nice she though that was. 

You didn’t need to know it wasn’t a coincidence…

-------------------------------------------------------------

After about two months in the psych ward, you showed massive improvement. You were almost cleared to be released, and Natasha was a bit upset. 

The adoption agency had cleared her, and she was cleared to take you in. 

She had already pitched the idea to you, that after were released from the psych ward, you would come live with her for a period of time. 

You didn’t need to know she meant forever…

You were overjoyed with the idea of spending more time with her. You had explained to her on multiple occasions you didn’t want to get out, as you would not get to spend time with her anymore. That’s when she told you, and you had hugged her and told her how happy you were. 

She simply kissed your head, holding you close as you two sat on the bed. 

Natasha was a bit upset, though. In the psych ward, she got to spend every moment with you, but if you were to come live with her, you would have to go to school, and she would have to- you would have to miss her half of the day.

She didn’t want that, and so she started setting up her place in the mountains. You trusted her, and she would make sure that trust would not be broken. 

-------------------------------------------------------------

When you were finally released from the psych ward, Natasha had made sure it was one of the best days of your life. There was cake, and presents, and all sorts of things you had not been given in a long time. 

After that day, Natasha had told you she was planning on moving up into a cottage in the mountains. 

You didn’t need to know what country she meant…

You asked her if there would be snow, and she promised you there would be. You were more than happy to pack all your stuff, excited with the idea of living somewhere peaceful.

Natasha had called in a favour with her parents, arranging a jet to take you and her to the location. You had asked her where the house was located, but she had told you not to worry about it. It would be perfect. 

You fell asleep pretty quickly on the jet, which was perfect, as Natasha didn’t have to explain why you were flying over the ocean. 

When you arrived, Natasha carried you inside, tucking you in the nice bed that was already prepared for you, before going back downstairs and getting all the stuff from the jet inside.

-------------------------------------------------------------

You woke up from the sun shining through gaps in the curtains. When did you go to bed?

You stretched slightly, laying in bed for a few minutes to process waking up, before getting up and looking around the room. 

The room was absolutely beautiful, and it matched your interests perfectly. It didn’t take you long to spot the two drawings on the wall. The were hung up in frames this time. It were the drawings you and Natasha had made the first day you were in the psych ward. 

You smiled at the memory, soon recognising the pajamas that were hung over the desk chair. 

You changed into them and left the room, finding the stairs quickly and making your way downstairs. The entire house smelled of pancakes, and it obviously was in the kitchen where you found Natasha. 

“Hello sweetheart,” she greeted you as she gave you a small side hug, giving you a kiss on the head. 

“How did you sleep?” she asked as she handed you a glass of orange juice. 

“I slept fine,” you told her as you gave her a smile and took the orange juice, taking a few sips before sitting down at the kitchen island. 

Natasha smiled at you, getting the last pancake from the pan before placing two plates on the kitchen island. She sat down on the barstool next to you, handing you the syrup as she took a bite herself. 

“The house looks very nice,” you told her as you started eating your own pancakes. 

“Only the best of the best for you,” Natasha told you and smiled softly at the slight blush that stained your cheeks. 

“Is there a school nearby or something?” you asked her, but Natasha just shook her head. 

“I figured homeschooling would fit you a lot better. There are a lot of benefits, and I think it would do wonders for your mental health,” she explained, and you nodded. 

You could almost cry at how thoughtful Natasha was. 

You didn’t need to know it was purely in her own best interest…

You were finally home. You were finally safe. You were finally loved. Natasha would finally be your mother, and you would finally get the chance at a normal life. 

Somewhat normal…

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @simp-erformarvelwomen @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000

[soulinheehee]

Okay, so I read "my body wants you bare" and OMG I liked it more than I'd like to admit, i mean, it's actually rented a triplex in my head and i loved it to much, your writing is so smooth and sweet <3333

Anyway, I would like to ask for a "continuation" (it doesn't necessarily have to be one, i just don't know exactly how to explain 😔), perhaps from Arlecchino this time? Like she's excited about the idea of getting her wife pregnant this time ( and maybe doing it...?)

Ps:: don't feel obligated to write about pregnancy if you don't want to, after all, I know that most authors don't feel comfortable writing about a pregnat reader, so just do what you want to, i have i'm sure it will be incredible

Reader having Arlecchino's child

first of all, thank you so much!!🙏 ngl i enjoyed writing that one more than i would like to admit lol. guess I also have this habit of making everything sweet when it comes to my writing 😭 idk i just feel like everything should be sweet and cute and lovely. love me some tooth rotting fluff with murderous white woman 🥰

i also understand why ppl might be uncomfortable with it, can't say i completely am, but I'm chill about it in some particular cases so i decided to answer 😇

˚⁺‧ 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘺, 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩. 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘴. 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘈𝘍𝘈𝘉!!!

So as was mentioned in the fic, you and Arlecchino are unable to have children of your own, so unless some sort of science or magic is involved, there's no way to do so, and I suppose this is what you were implying, anon.

i also had to do some googling since i wasn't sure if whatever i was thinking about was my fever dream or if it's actually real. I'm still not sure if getting pregnant from another woman is possible in the real world, but let's pretend that it is in teyvat!!!!!!

I still kinda feel like if Arlecchino could've agreed to have a child, she'd just adopt one from her orphanage. kinda see it as "there are so many children under my care that had lost their parents, what would they think if they knew that some child gets to have proper parenting, and from their caretaker!!". Maybe she's afraid playing favorites, but then again, there are Lyney, Lynette and Freminet.

So who knows, maybe the idea of having one of your own had grown onto her over the time, and in the end she agreed to your idea.

well, choose where you want to do the deed: akademiya, institute, or try to find a chill segment of your wife's coworker to help you.

Whichever one that is, there's no question who's getting pregnant, since Arlecchino has important job as a country's official, so naturally there's no time for carrying a child.

So, everything was settled. Arlecchino's stem cell was grown into a sperm that was later used to get you pregnant via IVF. It felt.. strange, as in, it wasn't the usual way people would become pregnant, but it wasn't a bad feeling. And unlike some poor cases where children were results of some sort of mistake or whatnot, your case was planned and serious. You tried so hard to follow doctors' recommendations, and Arlecchino was always there to support you.

When you felt weird, she was buying you all the weird foods you craved for (in adequate amounts and combinations. ain't no way she'd allow you to drink milk after eating fish just cause you felt funky like that). She'd reassure you when you felt down or nervous, and keep you safe from any harm. After what you both went through to get this child, Arlecchino won't let a single bad thing happen to any of you!!! This also includes taking care of your health.

Can't say I imagine Arlecchino as a person who would play with your belly. Maaaybe if you were silly enough and called for her she'd do something. But she's not talking to your belly no. Don't ask for her to read to the baby. She'll tell you it can't hear anything. But despite that you still feel how gently she rubs and caresses you as you two lie down. So what if she's not the one carrying the child? She's still a woman, and one with children (even if they aren't hers..), she understands competely what you're doing through, so of course she loves and appreciates you.

Whether you want to continue having intimacy or not is up to you. And while Arlecchino definitely isn't going to disturb you, or the child when it grows big enough, you still had your fingers in tact, and Arlecchino's job is full of stress all the time...🤭

The time was close, you noticed newly arrived nurses and accoucheurs in your mansion. Arlecchino didn't know when she'd have to leave you for a mission, she hoped she wouldn't, but just in case she invited them ahead of the time you supposedly would give birth to your child. They were also monitoring your health, so that was a plus.

But soon, the inevitable day arrived. You were scared, and everything hurt so badly, and there were so many people, and Arlecchino wasnt there. Where is your wife when you need her so badly?! The spasms were growing more and more painful, and were lasting for ao long that you were almost passing out.

You were about to give birth. At the last moment, Arlecchino rushed towards you, finally arrived from her mission. She ran to you as soon as possible, taking your hand in hers as she calmed your screams. She cast a threatening glance at the doctors, silently telling them that if they do something, anything that you might find disturbing, they won't be there tomorrow. The last thing Arlecchino would want you to suffer is accoucheur violence, be it a bad word from them or forcing you to agree to some procedure.

After so many hours, you finally gave birth to your and Arlecchino's child. Of course, since you and her are both the same sex, your child could only be the same. You still weren't sure how you would name your daughter, but this could be discussed a little later. During your pregnancy, you still couldn't decide whether you'd give her a snezhnayan or a fontainian name, but you had some good ones in mind that both you and Arlecchino liked.

She. She'll take maternal leave. No way she'd leave you on your own when you're recovering. Expect to wake in a cold bed only to realize that you don't hear your daughter screaming, since your wife is currently busy with her, wanting you to get more sleep to recover sooner.

Overall, I think Arlecchino, despite being strict and demanding, is a pretty good parent who takes care of her family. A very solid option to choose for your child ♡

also ngl I'm thinking lewd thoughts about milf reader with arlecchino, how y'all feeling about this?--

[technofantasia]

The thing about Josuke is that, since the age of four, he's had 24/7 access to a secret superpower that lets him instantly and completely fix anything that goes wrong in his life. Anything that breaks, anyone that gets hurt, anything that happens and has a negative result can be immediately rewound and brushed off as if it never happened with nobody ever the wiser; after all, it's not like anyone he's met can even SEE his stand, let alone realize he's using it to do anything. Even if he does it while someone else is present, would they really believe that Josuke has some sort of healing superpower over the idea that they were just wrong about the thing having been broken in the first place? Probably not.

What kind of effect would that power have on a developing kid?

Imagine that he's playing a video game and he's getting really frustrated because he keeps dying in the same place over and over. If that happened to you, what would you do? Maybe gear up to chuck the controller into the TV? But, wait, you can't do that! If you did, it might be satisfying for a second, but then you'd have to deal with the fallout of a broken TV and an angry parent. Not worth it. Josuke, on the other hand? If HE totally destroyed the TV, he could have that momentary satisfaction of letting the frustration out, then just quickly fix the TV and get back to the grind. No harm, no foul, no bits of glass to sweep out of the carpet or mother tearing her hair out in upset. Of COURSE he'd do it. Why wouldn't he?

Imagine that he forgets his locker combination, because oops head too full of teenage miscellany. Would he go through the effort of fumbling around to find whichever pocket he shoved the slip of paper with his combination in to open it while he's already late to class? Or would he just tear the door off its hinges, retrieve his stuff, and shove it back on in two seconds flat? Imagine that he's messing around with some friends trying to climb a huge tree, when one of them falls getting two broken bones and a concussion. Would he call the friend an ambulance and decide climbing tall trees is too dangerous? Or would he just climb down, heal the friend back up, say something to the effect of "oh wow, good thing you ended up okay!", and continue doing what he was doing safe in the knowledge that his stand could save him or cushion the fall if HE ever slipped? (He may not be able to HEAL himself, but he can certainly protect himself from the same kinds of damage other people get.)

Those are all just hypotheticals, but we do see examples of him doing those kinds of things in the series. He beats up anyone who pisses him off only to instantly heal them afterwards. He tears off Hazamada's locker door to look inside without a second thought. In the wake of his grandpa's murder, he destroys and fixes a ton of furniture in his house. He mentions fixing a friend's broken leg. He DEFINITELY doesn't shy away from anything dangerous, and not just out of general shounen recklessness. When Aqua Necklace hides inside his mother's body, he forgoes any convoluted plan to save her and just punches her through the stomach without hesitation because he knows with 100% certainty, the certainty of lived experience, that she'd be completely fine afterwards, that she wouldn't even notice. He waited to try healing his grandpa when he saw him sprawled across the floor because he didn't have a doubt in his mind that, even if he took his time getting there, as soon as he did he'd be up again like nothing happened. (He was only wrong once.)

The thing about Josuke is that, since the age of four, he's learned that being reckless almost never leads to consequences. He's learned that its okay to make mistakes because pretty much any mistake he makes can be quickly and easily fixed with no lasting damage. He's learned that, as long as he's the one who takes responsibility for something, everything turns out okay for everyone.

We can see all that easily in his personality and the way he acts. He's unbelievably chill, cool-headed and reasonable even in situations where NOBODY would be; stakes are very different for somebody who can effortlessly reverse anything short of death, so of course he doesn't panic at those sorts of things. By contrast, things like "no money" or "waded into leech pool" (or, for a more serious example that comes up in the series, "friend/family is missing") are not as easily fixed and thus are a much bigger deal.

Despite how much it takes to make him full on panic, though, he is far from careful on a regular day. Sure, he may be chill, but all that means is that he'll calmly and deliberately do something insane instead of doing it in a panicked frenzy. We see dozens of examples of Josuke casually thinking his way out of situations by coming up with a crazy reckless solution on the spot that would be a last-ditch measure by anyone else, just because he's so used to thinking with his stand's ability in mind. (While you could maybe argue this applies to most Jojo protagonists, I still think Josuke manages to be one of the most reckless on-the-spot planners in the series while also being one of the most generally well-collected AND having a solidly in-place sense of self preservation, which is still an interesting combination in contrast with the other protagonists.)

It's worth noting, of course, that Josuke DOES have a bit of a (literal) hair-trigger temper, but rages on Josuke are short, concentrated, and in a strange sense, controlled. While he's certainly much less reasonable and more destructive than usual when in rage mode, said destruction never extends past the source of the anger; he feels mad, so he lets it out, handles the situation, and almost instantly falls back to baseline. Like chucking a controller at a TV and fixing it back up. A controlled explosion.

All of this is to say that, even when Josuke does reckless or destructive things, it's not because Josuke himself is a reckless or destructive person; far from it. Josuke's top priority is keeping the peace. Why else would he choose to be so meek towards bullies on the first day of school, even knowing he could wipe the floor with them? Why else would his first reaction to being told he was the result of an affair be to humbly apologize for the trouble his existence caused, instead of any kind of personal confusion or upset? The only reason he acts how he does is because he knows from experience that inserting himself into a situation, striking fast and hard however is appropriate, then fixing up the aftermath, is the most efficient way to solve problems for himself and everyone around him. He's not a pushover. He'll stand up for himself and what's important to him when he needs to. But ultimately he just wants the best for everyone, and since he's been gifted the ability to fix things, to heal, doesn't it make sense to use it?

In that way, Josuke acts as a perfect foil to Kira. Neither of them deny themselves whatever they want, neither of them are used to experiencing consequences for their actions, and both of them just want a peaceful life; the difference is, Kira destroys problems. Josuke fixes them.

An interesting side effect of this mindset is that Josuke ends up taking on responsibility for all sorts of things that are in no way his burdens to bear. We see a number of times throughout the series that he never backs away from a situation he could potentially do something about, to the point of even inserting himself into situations he really doesn't need to. Any time he CAN heal someone, he does; in the Harvest episode, in particular, Josuke heals a number of tiny injuries Okuyasu picked up without comment as soon as he could. It's so ingrained that, during their dice game, Rohan mutilates himself in order to keep Josuke from running away, since he knew Josuke would never leave him like that even though they hate each other. Of course Josuke would consider it his responsibility to heal the hand Rohan messed up himself such that he'd stay in a terrible situation he could easily walk away from just for the opportunity to heal him. It's a no-brainer.

And because Josuke takes on so much extra responsibility, because Josuke is considered by both all his friends and himself to be the multi-purpose get out of jail free card, he takes it that much harder whenever anything seriously goes wrong. There's almost a level of existential disbelief to it. Sure, anybody would be upset when something bad happens, like, say, a family member or friend dying because of your own negligence, but with Josuke... When his grandpa dies, and then paralleled later when Okuyasu gets blown up by Killer Queen, he sounds confused. Like he just experienced something impossible. People can't die around him. It's not even a question. He has a healing superpower! People can't die around someone with a healing superpower, especially not when they're literally a few steps away!! So, then, if it really did happen, what does that say about him? When he gets the call from Koichi during the fight against Sheer Heart Attack, he panics and rushes into action immediately. It's easy to imagine what could have been flashing through his mind.

Because of his stand, the stand he got after a formative experience when he was just a small kid, he always has the unique ability to help. To help himself, to help others. All he has to do is put in the effort, show as much kindness as he can as soon as it's needed, and he can keep everyone happy and healthy. At the end of the day, if he can do something, he will. Every time.

The thing about Josuke is that, since the age of four, he decided that he wanted to be like the person who saved him when he and his mom were stranded in the snow. He saw the way that guy went out of his way to help a total stranger, showing kindness to people who needed it more than he could ever know, taking off his coat in the cold despite his own injuries just because it was the right thing to do, and he thought: "I want to be like that". Through that decision, he received the power to do just that. Over the years, he used that power again and again; for himself, for others, for everyone he could. And eventually, that's exactly the kind of person he grew into.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

hi! can you do a ethan laundry x reader where reader is ghostface too please ? (with smut if it’s possible)

Request: Riley!reader who wants to get revenge on sam for dewey’s death. She puts on the ghostface costume and is the mastermind for scream 6’s murders

I need someone to recreate this gif with

Warnings: mention of murders, scream 5 spoilers,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

After years of surviving the masked killers, your father lost his life during the last murder spree in Woodsboro. 

All because of Samantha Carpenter. If she hadn’t gone to your father’s trailer and asked for his help, he wouldn’t have died in that hospital corridor. He would still be living his quiet life as a retired police officer with a slight drinking problem and spend his days watching shitty TV while thinking of all sorts of dumb excuses to call your mother — and hopefully one day rekindle their relationship.

But now he was gone and you wanted revenge. Revenge for taking your father from you. Revenge for killing all hopes for your parents to get back together. Revenge for making your mother so heartbroken. 

You wanted to stab Samantha Carpenter and watch her bleed out. 

Once you got back to New York and started college, you crossed paths with other people who had the same dark urge. A grieving father, and his two remaining kids — Richie Kirsh’s family. 

‘’Quinn should go. She’s fast.’’ 

‘’Sam is strong,’’ the redhead reminded them, knowing her roommate better than everyone else around the table.

‘’Then Ethan should go.’’ You glanced at Ethan, sitting before you. ‘’Can you take Sam?’’ 

He hesitated. He was confident about the elder Carpenter, but what if someone else was at the apartment? ‘’What if Chad’s there? He’s getting close with Tara and Sam is not letting Tara out of her sight since the new wave of murders.’’ 

Chad could bring a challenge for Ethan. Amber was able to take him to the ground last year, but it was dark and she took him by surprise. You’d rather not take a chance. 

‘’I think it would be better if we went for Gale next,’’ Bailey said, not agreeing with your plan. ‘’We have to finish Richie’s movie—’’

The second victim was going to be killed using Amber Freeman’s mask.  The same mask that was used to kill your father. 

You slammed your knife on the table you were all sitting at, making the faux-detective and his son jump. ‘’She’s my mother, you sick fuck,’’ you reminded the older man, not letting him finish his sentence. ‘’You will not touch a single hair on my mother’s head, got it? It’s Sam we wants, not her.’’ 

Although they were crime partners, they were disposable. If any of them dared touching Gale Weathers, it’s their blood that will spill next. There’s enough rage in your small body to take them down.

‘’And Tara,’’ Quinn added.

You shrugged, not really caring for the other Carpenter sister. 

After everyone was dismissed, Quinn went back to her and Sam’s apartment and Bailey to the police station. You could see on his face that he was mad at you, but you were the one in charge.  

A chair screeched on the old wood floor and Ethan came up to you, a dark look in his eyes. He looked like a mommy’s boy in his preppy polo from the Gap. You didn’t understand why he chose to dress up in a ‘character’. All he had to do was use a fake name and pretend to be nice to Chad. 

‘’The way you talked to my dad gave me a boner,’’ he informed you, not even embarrassed by it. You glanced down, seeing the tent in Ethan’s pants. ‘’He might be okay with killing his wife, but I would never harm my mother,’’ you said. Your eyes shifted back to Ethan’s face as you grabbed his belt to pull him closer. ‘’Besides, I’m the brain of the operation. I make the calls.’’

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana  @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys @die4niyahhh  @sl4sh3rfuck3r @radiant-whore  @Meadzy21 @luci1fer @nomorespahgetti  @bloodyhw  @depthsofdespairr  @bellysbeach @wilmalovegood @loupiotesworld  @wenvierismycomfort @t-candy  @s-al-em  @darylscvmdumpster  @tommysaxes  @adaydreamaway08 @johannelis2302nely @aqshua @lynbubble @luiise @planetkt @vampyrgoff @adrluvh @mymultiveres  @miqi-16 @not-liah  @lovenats01 @doestalker @lonelywitchv2 @lausley336  @arinexeisnotworking @halforangecuts @l3ndryz  @ilovelandry  @your-platonic-gay-lover @danniackerman  @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam  @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam @zoeynicolas @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @pumkinnroses @cruzgrecia @sunnysunny133696 @aesthetixhoe  @gizmodecaprio

All and more taglist:  @kenqki  @hawkegfs  @gillybear17   @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade   @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3   @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs  @lexasaurs634  @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634  @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis  @katherinejess  @rafesgirlstuff  @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity

[nemastraea]

Doormat extraordinaire: Andrew Graves is down horrendous for his own sister | Part 2

Here's a link to the previous half of the essay: Part 1 Here's a link to the AO3 version for archive purposes: The doormat extraordinaire has a bit of a romantic streak,

Content warning: This will heavily feature spoilers from Episodes 1 & 2 of The Coffin of Andy and Leyley. Trigger warning: Abuse, cannibalism, child neglect, codependency, harassment, incest, murder, self-harm, and suicide. Disclaimer: I will occasionally reference an extremely normal essay from Sufficient Velocity commenter Leyleyfication (here). It would be a lot easier to read this essay first as Leyleyfication does a pretty good job establishing the following: - Ashley is dependent on Andrew to assure and validate her of her own insecurities, and - The game heavily implies that Andrew wants to fuck his own sister.

So in the previous half of the essay, I got to talk about how, yes, why we can comfortably say Andrew wants to fuck his own sister. We also got into how that attraction manifests as his desire to exert his control, and domination, of Ashley. Hopefully, that's the bulk of the essay (I think).

But what about the possessive aspect that I mentioned?

That's what this half of the essay will get into and hopefully, the fatalist aspect of Andrew's attraction.

Episode 2, common route. I had to throw this screenie in somewhere for how out of pocket it is as a thought.

Wow, you're both possessive and jealous!

Thankfully, it's actually a lot easier to list the situations wherein he's possessive and jealous of Ashley. Unfortunately, I don't have all of the necessary screenshots (and I am fucking crying over it).

In Episode 1, Andrew is immediately upset by Ashley loudly wondering if getting pregnant would get the wardens to call help for the siblings.

In Episode 1, Andrew is offended that Ashley is offended that the wardens didn't find her attractive like the Lady from Room 302 to bargain food in exchange of sexual favors.

Again, in Episode 2, Andrew 'lightly' threatens to backhand Ashley when she jokingly suggests being a call girl.

These ones... are almost easy to dismiss. It's actually very easy to reason it's Andrew being a protective older brother: after all, who would want to be in the same apartment when their sibling is having sex somewhere else? That's the answer that Andrew gives to pacify Ashley after leaving Room 302. Having sex with someone who's brother is walking around the apartment is very, very awkward.

And that's even before we factor in that the two share their childhood room. The game plays into what is likely our real-life mortification and discomfort regarding similar scenarios.

But there are times when it's both in our face, and inexcusable. When it doesn't really fall under that notion of brotherly protectiveness: Andrew's dream and memories from Episode 2. The first is when Andrew reflects on the people he's killed up to this point, particularly the warden he killed in the cultist's apartment.

Episode 2, common route. The warden here is likely Malcom. If you compare Ashley's reaction to the wardens' arrangement with the Lady from Room 302 to this moment, we can probably read this as Ashley being so disinterested in others that she doesn't notice attraction and leering. Andrew, meanwhile, can.

The second is when we learn what happened after the siblings left the Bitch in the Box to, yanno, die from her asthma in a likely moldy box in an abandoned warehouse.

When Andy sees Nina's body, he's not wracked with the guilt of her death. He doesn't care about whether or not that reflects on his morals as conveniently forgetting Nina was asthmatic and begged for help, only for Andy to prioritize Leyley. No, Andy's train of thought went from "I don't want people to find the body" to "I don't want people to know it was [us] who killed her" to this.

Episode 2, common route. Leyleyfication pointed out that this outburst precedes Leyley weaponizing the moral consequences of Nina's death against Andy. Andy, even now with Andrew, doesn't particularly care about moral consequences. Although, getting into Andrew's moral framework as driven by appearances and the fear of legal and societal consequences is a whole different word vomit.

Of course, Andrew being concerned that he'll lose Ashley can be chalked up to the fact that he's been her primary caretaker and the third parent (the most active one, mind you) all his life. To take Ashley away is to upend the foundations of Andrew's sense of normalcy. But that doesn't really align with how Andrew repeatedly emphasizes his candid closeness with Ashley, or his preoccupation with her fat tits (their words, not mine).

Episode 2, common route. When you pair this with the optional interactions of Ashley repeatedly blocking Andrew's view of the TV at the motel, it's actually kinda funny how Andrew's eyes trail to her chest.

Ashley is Andrew's pride and joy ("my Ashley") and he also doesn't like being away from her long enough to spy on a failed attempt at summoning demons. He takes sadistic pleasure in being able to kill the warden who leers at her, Andy uncharacteristically has violent outbursts at the notion of losing Leyley.

Ashley's insecurity and jealousy is almost always front and center throughout the game. But the game also takes care to weave Andrew's obsession with Ashley whenever it can. It's a lot more subtle, and perhaps missable, since Ashley almost never shows interest in anyone but Andrew.

We can possibly argue that Andrew finds comfort in this, that he is 'secure' in the sense that Ashley looks at no one else but him. But even something as Ashley simply expressing wonder at alternative scenarios is deeply upsetting to Andrew, enough to provoke his threat of violence.

Whether or not that comes up in either route for Episode 3 (Burial and Decay) is up in the air, but my immediate impression is that Andrew will be forced to dredge up his obsessive need for Ashley to be by his side, to be his, and his alone. It's not really that different from Ashley's desire and love for him. Really, the only difference is Andrew doesn't really mind having acquaintances or a social life outside of Ashley, but Ashley does. If Andrew deludes us into assuming he isn't in love with his sister, there's a good chance he's denying it to himself, too.

(I do want to hark back on Leyleyfication's essay again, when Andrew asks Ashley to reassure him that they won't end up sleeping together. In that regard, not only is Ashley the one he allows to 'veto' that possible outcome, but we can infer that Andrew wouldn't know how to walk away if ever the opportunity presents itself. He's hoping that Ashley's restraint is what keeps them from crossing that line, because god knows Andrew can't help himself.)

Episode 2, Burial route. Andrew values Ashley's opinion; usually when it conveniences him and what he wants. But if you choose, "never say never," although Andrew doubles down on his show of disgust and mortification, he doesn't get pissed at her or start emotionally distancing himself from her.

Andrew is a tragic romantic, hallelujah!

When I first played the game, the first thing that struck me about Andrew's behavior wasn't when Ashley woke up in his lap. It's not when he throws her the balcony key because he'll follow her to check on the cultist if she'd like. It's when, completely unprompted, he goes on about how romantic it would be if they died in a double suicide:

What? You don't see it? Just imagine hitting the ground together. And with such force our bodies turn into a pile of gory mush. Never to be separated! Our remains would get so tangled up they'd have to bury us together in the same coffin.

Episode 1, common route. You live on the fourth floor, Andrew.

This resurfaces when Ashley doesn't first wake up in the car in Episode 2. He confesses that if she had not woken up, he would have brought her to the hospital. Admittedly, doing so would alert the authorities to their identities: hospital staff would be concerned as to why they look like they're recovering from being emaciated, they're likely paler than the average person, and so forth. They'll ask for a means to identify Ashley, at least, and then they'll find out that both Graves siblings were legally pronounced dead three months prior to Andrew walking into the emergency room.

That is the pronounced risk that Ashley points out and the same risk that Andrew readily dismisses in his panic and worry. And in a way, it would make sense: if Andy was so terrified of upsetting Leyley that he'd willingly keep a girl trapped overnight, if Andy was so terrified of losing Leyley that he'd rather hide Nina's body, why wouldn't Andrew say fuckit, let's risk getting jailed if Ashley isn't waking up?

But this sense of fatalism is more pronounced in the Decay route, of all places. You know, the one where Andrew resents and blames Ashley for everything and hates her so much she dreams of him killing her some way or another. Jesus.

Episode 2, Decay route. When Andrew doesn't see a point in planning their next steps, he admits he has a strong urge to kill them both.

Barring Ashley's first vision of the hitman killing them both, or even the hidden Steam achievement where Ashley finds the hitman in the closet, Ashley's death is a subject only ever thrown around in the context of dying with Andrew, or by Andrew. Just the same, it's almost always succeeded (or preceded; again: hitman vision) by Andrew's hypothetical death.

Ashley starts and ends with Andrew; he's how she's survived for this long, and she's okay with that. But Andrew starts and ends with Ashley, too. His self-preservation goes out the window where the threat of fatally losing Ashley is concerned, and his morals bend where being separated from Ashley is also concerned.

In Decay, Andrew can loathe and resent Ashley as much as he wants. He can blame her as the motivation and reason for why he does what he does. But he genuinely cannot live without her. The consequences of his actions don't bother him insofar as they don't jeopardize his and Ashley's relationship, or Ashley's well-being. That's what matters to Andrew, ultimately.

He lashes out at her, yes, but he consistently feels awful when his behavior drives Ashley away somehow. There is regret in hurting her (verbally, or physically) even when he hates and loathes her so deeply.

Perhaps the most telling, however, is the pay-off of the gun (I told you we'd come back to that eventually!!). In the chase sequence of Ashley's vision in Decay, she has the opportunity to defend herself. But only if Andrew didn't use up all of the ammo when he goes to find and deal with the hitman at the park.

The player is presented with a choice: either Ashley shoots Andrew with the gun, or lets Andrew kill her. The option of Ashley killing Andrew in self-defense is very interesting (but again, that's a different essay entirely). But what happens if Ashley chooses to let Andrew kill her is also just as interesting:

Episode 2, Decay route. Andrew's hand that restrained Ashley by the hair shifts to cradle her face by the jaw. This moment is also preceded by the first time Ashley's little heart bubble is colored a light pink.

When Andrew kills Ashley through this outcome, he does so efficiently: it's visualized by a single blood splatter. In contrast, Andrew killing Ashley because she can't even choose to defend herself is pure viscera: there are more blood splatters, violent as they come onto the screen, and excessive in contrast to him killing the first warden in Ashley's defense. It's pure loathing.

In this outcome, Andrew kills her in what he promises will be a murder-suicide. Perhaps he frees the both of them from the constant threat of evading law authorities, but his last words suggest he expects to rejoin her in whatever conception of the afterlife he has.

As of either route divergence from Episode 2, Andrew is someone who's both in love with his own sister—and someone unwilling to separate himself from her. Perhaps in the more platonic Burial route, Andrew is a bit more relaxed and is seemingly less troubled by his nightmares; he doesn't depend on Ashley as much. But what remains constant is his attempt to plan for the future with Ashley in tow; platonic Burial Andrew won't leave Ashley for the foreseeable future, either.

So yeah, Andrew wants to fuck, own, and have his sister and he's kinda crazy. He's so batshit. As Leyleyfication put it, I also want to dissect this man in a lab.

Episode 1, common route. Ashley doesn't seem to fully grasp that Andrew (even Andy, back then) loves her so much that he genuinely cannot fathom being separated from her. In her defense, though, Andrew implies he can leave her and routinely suggests he loathes having to put up with her. His mixed signals would drive anyone crazy, man.

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

Today, the IDF is beginning its internal investigation into the failure to prevent the Hamas massacre on Oct 7. The investigation will check the way the army handled all relevant aspects, covering the period of 2018 until Oct 10, 2023. The investigation is operative in nature, it's not meant to single out and punish the guilty (there will likely be a separate investigation for that later, after the war), it'll be more focused on understanding mistakes that were made, in order to prevent them from occurring again.

It's kind of ironic, how quick westerners are to accuse Israel of genociding Arabs, meanwhile Arab countries (even ones that say similar things) are still looking to collaborate with Israel. In its peace treaty with Jordan, Israel agreed to supply its eastern Arab neighbor with an annual amount of water, but has in reality implemented a deal, where it supplies Jordan with twice the amount it's obligated to. Now, Jordan is asking Israel to extend this water deal by at least another year. Jordan has been one of the more hostile Arab countries when it comes to Israel since the start of the war in Gaza (which is no surprise, since it's the Arab country with the most substantial Palestinian population). Jordan has even gone so far as to back up South Africa in its ICJ case blaming Israel of committing genocide. If Jordan really believed that Israel seeks to genocide Arabs, would this Arab kingdom really be asking the Jewish state to supply it with water? Would it allow itself to depend on Israel for its water supply? Would it be able to say, "please extend this water deal," showing it has in the past trusted Israel with its water supply, and has gotten exactly what it was asking for? Israel is asking Jordan in return to tone down its anti-Israel rhetoric.

There are reports coming out of Russia, that today, an ISIS cell was stopped before committing a terrorist attack against a local synagogue in Moscow.

In the Netherlands, anti-Israel activists have demanded the arrest of the Israeli president when he arrives in the country for a state visit. I have to point out two things. First, the president's role in Israel is mainly a ceremonial one, he has almost no executive power (the most meaningful action he can take, is in pardoning, or refusing to pardon, prisoners). Second, there are Hamas seniors living in and traveling to Europe freely. People who are leading the genocidal, antisemitic Islamist terrorist organization which committed the Oct 7 atrocities are free to come and go as they please, while Israeli officials, even ceremonial ones, have to be worried about their freedoms. This is a twisted reality we are living in.

This:

vs this:

Remember how many countries froze their UNRWA funding, after info started coming out that its employees had participated in the Hamas massacre, and how many of them have ties to Hamas and other Palestinian terrorist organizations? Turns out that this only froze about half of UNRWA's annual budget, that quietly some of these countries have begun trickling money back to UNRWA, and that Canada is about to unfreeze its funding for this UN agency. Ask Canadian Prime Minister Trudeau where is the body of Yonatan Samerano, kidnapped by an UNRWA member. Ask him where are our hostages, and how many of them are still held captive because of UNRWA's complicity. Ask him how many Canadian citizens murdered or otherwise harmed on Oct 7 or since, were targeted by an UNRWA member, or because of the pro-terrorist education UNRWA supplies. Ask him how will he say "Never again" on the next Holocaust Remembrance Day with a straight face.

This is 19 years old Naama Levi.

On Oct 7, the second vid that Twitter pushed at me, was the one in which she was seen, being dragged by her hair out of the back of a Jeep, her hands cuffed, and her sweatpants soaked with blood. Not the last pair of bloodied pants or skirt or dress I've seen from that day, but the first, and the biggest shock. Naama is still in Hamas captivity. This is her mother, speaking about this ordeal:

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[spiderlandry]

Murder Party — ethan landry

Description: You’re the only one who knows where Ethan’s costume is from. You quickly realize you both have more in common than you originally thought.

Pairing: Ethan Landry x GN!Reader

Warnings: ghostface ethan is implied, also some sinister energy coming from reader, alcohol consumption (not by reader), mentions of canon typical violence/mentions of murder

Word Count: 1.2k

Author’s note: thank u for the support ive been getting lately!! i appreciate all ur comments and likes and reblogs :] also has anyone else seen murder party? i feel like im the only one lol

At Chad’s request, you attended the one of the frat parties being held for the upcoming Halloween. It wasn’t unusual, you often got invited to parties because of your connection to some people in the football team, like Chad, who you’ve tutored a few times. However, you almost always never went to any of them—except this one.

You were willing to give it a chance. One, because it was almost Halloween and nobody deserved to be alone during that. And two, because Chad said, I have somebody I wanna set you up with.

Chad didn’t know you too well besides what you’ve talked about in the tutoring sessions, so you wondered what could’ve possibly made him think he had the ability to set you up. But you went anyway, out of morbid curiosity. What was the harm?

That’s what brought you to this moment, in the dimly lit kitchen of this random house, the smell of sweat and alcohol floating through the air as you raided the fridge for a soda. The red jumpsuit you wore was just a tad bit too tight and restricted your movement, and you held your scissors in one hand while you took a coke from the shelf.

Ethan wandered the unfamiliar hallways of the house until he found escape from the mass of moving bodies, ones dancing to the music and stumbling around like a bunch of newborn deer. That was how he ended up in the kitchen, leaning against a cabinet, thankful for some space. The kitchen was empty.

“There’s no guy with an axe after you, is there?”

He was wrong. His head snapped to the voice, a sweet sound almost music to his ears, and saw somebody sitting on the counter right at the corner. How could he not have seen you?

“I’m sorry, what?” He didn’t catch it the first time, frankly because he didn’t think anyone was there at all.

You laughed, an even sweeter sound that he must’ve missed out on all his life. “Your costume,” You sipped from a coke in your hand then nodded to his makeshift knight outfit. “It’s Christopher. From Murder Party.”

He looked down at himself, as if he didn’t know what he was wearing. But he met your eyes once more when he realized someone finally knew it. “Yeah!” Cringing at sounding too excited, he toned it down. “Yeah. It is. And no, there’s no guy with an axe after me.”

“No Bill?”

“God, no.” He shook his head, flashing you with a wide grin, unable to help himself. He walked closer toward you. “You know, you’re the only who knows my costume.”

“To be fair,” You smirked. “It is kind of niche. You a big fan of horror comedy?”

He nodded, “Grew up with them. You?”

You shook your head. “More of a fan of elevated horror.”

That was when he processed what you were wearing, and saw the large scissors on the spot beside you. “You’re a tethered. From Us, right?”

“Yep,” You pursed your lips into a thin smile. “Can’t really beat Jordan Peele.”

Something, like a shadow, passed over your face for a singular moment that was difficult to miss. But you recovered quickly and continued the conversation.

“You don’t seem like a party guy,” You commented, more of an observation.

“I’m not, no. Not at all.”

“Me neither. Hate drinking.”

“Why are you here, then?”

You rolled your eyes at the reminder. “Some guy on the football team said he wanted to set me up with somebody. Don’t know where he is.”

“How do you know he didn’t just invite you here for himself?” Ethan got more confident as time went on, maybe it was the shots Chad had him take.

“He doesn’t seem like that guy.”

“How do you know he is who he says he is?”

By then, Ethan had gotten a little bit closer since the music was turned up. You didn’t mind the proximity though, and it seemed that he liked it.

“I don’t,” Your eyes narrowed. “But I’m a pretty good judge of character.”

He raised his brows. “Are you?”

It dawned on you that you never asked for his name. “What’s your name?”

“Ethan,” he breathed shallowly, seeing that you were only a few inches away from him. “You?”

“Y/N.” You held out your free hand, “Nice to meet you.”

Despite his sweaty hands, he took it.

A booming voice interrupted your slowly inching faces, to both of your disappointment.

“There you are!” You saw Chad at the end of the hall, then he did a double take. “And you! You guys know each other?” He was definitely a little drunk, from the slurring of his words.

“N—no, we don’t. We just met.” Ethan replied. Was he supposed to know you?

Chad strutted closer and gestured to you with a solo cup in his hand. “So, thoughts?”

You were taken aback. “Thoughts on what?” There was no way he was asking what you thought he was asking.

“On Ethan!” He shouted over the music. “He’s the one I wanted you to meet.”

He was. You sighed, biting your lip. You looked at Ethan, who was gaping and clueless right next to you.

Before you could say anything, a woman in an orange jack o’lantern top tapped Chad on the shoulder. “Hey, big guy.” He turned around. “You’re needed.”

Chad left on fast feet, leaving you and Ethan.

“For the record,” you tilted your head, leaning closer to him again. “I was gonna say I liked talking to you. I don’t know you that well yet, but I think we’d get along.”

He was relieved upon hearing that, to say the least. “I—I liked talking to you, too.”

You took out your phone from your back pocket, unlocking it, and pushing it in his direction. It was a few seconds until he understood, mainly because nobody had ever done that to him before.

“You want my number?” He needed to clarify that.

“Why else would I give you my phone?”

Ethan laughed. He may be nervous, but not once has he felt embarrassed in your presence. There was no one in the world who could do that to him, besides you.

He put his contact as ‘Ethan :)’ and saved it, closing the phone. As he handed it back to you, it lit up and something caught his eye in that millisecond that he saw your lockscreen. It was you with someone else.

“Who’s that?” He asked out of curiosity. Why did the woman in your lockscreen look familiar?

“Oh,” you sighed. “That’s Amber. She’s my best friend.” You didn’t feel like going into it right now, but by Ethan’s name and matching the description in your head, you had a feeling he was the one you were looking for. Richie’s family that Amber told you about who were just as crazy as him.

It dawned on Ethan. But there was a commotion by the stairs that caught both your ears—one of them sounded like Chad’s voice.

You checked it out, standing right next to Ethan when you finally saw the woman you’d been waiting for—the sole reason you offered to tutor Chad.

Tara Carpenter, the one who killed your best friend.

—————

Additional A/N: i didnt know where this was going when i began writing so it ended up here…for some reason. originally it was non-gf ethan and reader meet cute but i thought i’d switch it up. the backstory here is that amber and y/n are childhood friends and went to different schools, hence why core four doesnt know them. kind of a plot hole but! its whatever. idk. i also wrote in past tense bc it just felt right