#and fucked up found family dynamic with stockholm syndrome

[lasymit]

The Dawn AU Masterpost

Short summary: after the Day of Unity, Philip spent ten years in prison under a sleeping spell. He has forgotten a lot, he barely remembers himself. But he is still remembered by Luz and Hunter, who need help from the former emperor.

Fanfic "At the dawn of the light":

Original text

English translation

Early access to unpublished chapters on my Boosty

Arts:

Comics: 1

Arts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Memes: 1, 2, 3

AUs (yes, AUs on AU): 1, 2, 3, 4

Playlist

[writinginpinkpink]

The Price of Life. [0.1]

homelander x fem!reader

summary: Homelander saved you and gave you life, but with one rule: be utterly loyal to him. Despite this, you went beyond mere obedience and provided him with what he needed most: love.

warnings: homelander, violence, swearing, smut (eventually), a bit of stockholm syndrome?

masterlist | requests open! | next

You didn't expect this mission to be your last. It wasn't like this was your first time stealing Temp-V for Butcher. But something clearly went wrong as the last thing your eyes could register before your mind went blank was a Cape with the American fucking flag on it.

You felt your body give up, as if you could actually feel the life draining out of you, until a stinging sensation surged through you. Suddenly, everything felt painfully alive. Every nerve burned, and you felt everything. Your muscles relaxed and contracted, your heart pumped with such force it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest.

Your eyes slowly opened, only to find a pair of intense blue eyes staring at you. The man was holding your head close to his chest. When he realized you were awake, he gave you an eerie smile, laughing to himself. Only now did you notice that the sleeve of his shirt was rolled up, blood dripping from his arm.

And only after noticing him did you see the needle still attached to your arm. You instantly got up, realizing what he had done.

"What the fuck did you do to me?" you yelled, even though you already knew the answer. You wanted to hear him say it.

"What about a 'thank you, Homelander! You saved my life' first?" he said, rising as well. You noticed the floor around you was covered in blood—your blood.

"For what? You tried to kill me just to save me?" you screamed, knowing that shouting at him was dangerous, but with his blood circulating through your veins, you felt every emotion sharply. "I tried to kill you? Believe me, if I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. I made you. I gave you life. I'm fucking Jesus to you. The Butcher didn’t save you, Starlight didn’t save you, not even fucking Hughie. And now you are blood of my blood, you are my family now, do you understand? It wasn't rhetorical. Answer it."

He yelled, getting closer with each sentence until you hit the wall. His hands found their way to your neck, squeezing it just hard enough to send a message, but not to kill you. You struggled to nod.

"Exactly. You are now mine, and I will carry you around. We will be the fucking face of America. You and me. We are the example this country wants. I'm your hero, and now you will dedicate your life to me." You weren't surprised by his words. Since you joined the Seven, Homelander had seemed infatuated with you, for whatever reason.

"I hope you understand that I gave you life and, with the same ease, I can take it from you." He said, releasing your neck and kissing your cheek, as if he genuinely believed the twisted couple dynamic he had created in his mind.

"Go take a shower," he demanded, pointing to the bathroom. Still confused about what this new relationship meant, you complied, your burning throat serving as a stark reminder to avoid angering him again.

As you showered, you tried to connect the dots. What did he mean by "suicide mission"? Hadn’t Butcher and Starlight tried to save you? You weren’t sure if it was his blood making you feel this way, but resentment began to grow in your chest. It always annoyed you how Butcher bossed you around and treated everyone as though they were merely stepping stones to his goals.

Besides, you couldn’t deny that Starlight pissed you off a bit. She constantly forced you into the role of her shadow, making you the supportive friend rather than the protagonist. Every autograph you signed was alongside hers, and if her popularity faltered, so did yours. You tried not to let it bother you, as people enjoyed seeing your friendship, but it infuriated you that you were seen as the weakest female member. You knew you could break Tinker Bell in half if you wanted to, especially now that you felt stronger than ever.

As you dried yourself off before leaving the shower, you realized that this relationship with Homelander might not be the worst deal. You would finally receive the recognition you deserved and maybe even inspire some young girls to be like you. Besides, Homelander did save your life—he didn’t just keep you alive, but he made you stronger.

[theloganator101]

The Great BNHA Review: Characters or Check Lists?

Oh Characters...

The bread and butter to all stories.

The thing that gets a story from Point A to Point B, the thing that allows us to connect with the story and helps it feel alive. You can pretty much make any character for your story, from the gentle and kindhearted to the more rough around the edges... to making them likable or unlikable. There are many ways to write a character and how they can make your story come to life.

And by bringing this up you know where this is headed... that BNHA utterly failed at expanding their characters into being people we're supposed to care about.

I could make a long fucking list of how BNHA failed every single one of it's characters it introduced but to keep that from happening, I'm just going to either list certain characters or just group them together since some of them share one common thing that's holding them back from being good.

Starting off with!

Shota Aizawa:

He was supposed to a hardass with a hidden heart of gold for his students, but what he ENDED up as was a walking hypocrite who hated Izuku for no other than he was associated with All Might and couldn't control his quirk... and then CONTINUED to give Izuku a hard time and labeled him as the "problem child" like... I don't even have the energy to get mad here, I'm saving THAT for another time in this review.

Oh and then there's him holding up this ridiculously high standard for his students to reach or else he fails them... which is exactly what happened when he failed Sero in the finals but allowed Bakugou to pass for doing the same.

Which again his hypocrisy gets in the way of that!

And not once does he ever get called out or punished for his blantant abuse in power and instead gets complimented and praised for his methods as if he's the next Einstein.

Fucking end me.

The Todoroki Family:

Oh how Hori totally fucked you guys over in the end... Natsu I'd give a pass since he ended on a more believable note, but sadly I can't say the same for Rei and Fuyumi.

As they were never allowed to think bad of the guy that made their lives hell and were instead to jump on the forgiveness train and take Endeavor's side so they can be a "Happy family" again. Which... no, that's literally stockholm syndrome.

Class 1-A:

... (Sighs)

Oh my babies... oh my favorites... look how that monster Hori ruined you all...

He tried to have this found family dynamic for them all, only for it all to fall apart since... you know, they barely interacted at all and got any screentime.

And it also didn't help that Hori had all of them as bystanders to Izuku's suffering, make fun of his interests, and follow Bakugou when he led them to beat him into coming back. So it really doesn't work when you have these things on your mind and fails to convince you that they give a shit about Izuku and his wellbeing.

And the worst part is that they ALL look like they have stories waiting to be told, but we don't get any of that. At most they're only used to fight against the minions while the Cash Cow Triplets fight the big hero.

Every Female Character in this Series:

Oh boy what even is there to talk about? Since they barely have any personality of their own and are only made to be fanservice for the pervs that likes watching anime girls in bikinis. They definitely deserves much better and to be in a story that'll treat them with respect and dignity.

ESPECIALLY to those like Hagakure and Miruko.

All Might:

Oh All Might, how the story did you dirty.

If there's anyone in this story that I feel sorry for the most (That isn't Izuku) It's All Might.

All because of how he started off at the beginning, people clung to the idea that he's a quirkest asshole who Izuku needs to steer clear from... even though he's literally the one to save Izuku from literally living in misery.

All Might deserves to be an actual mentor and father figure for Izuku, not fucking Aizawa who openly expressed his hatred for the boy.

The League of Villains:

I already made a post on how the narrative did them dirty and I don't feel like repeating myself, so I'm just gonna leave a link here while adding this.

What was even the point of building them up to be forgiven by their foils if they were just gonna die in the end? It was all just a big time waster.

And of course, we can't talk about characters and how the author failed them without talking about...

Izuku Midoriya:

Oh Izuku... the most tragic and wasted main character I've ever seen in an anime series.

He started off so strong only to get worse as the series went on. He should've been the shining definition of what a hero SHOULD be! He should've been the one to realize how fucked their world was and strive to change it for the better and to prevent others like him from suffering like he did.

But... we didn't get any of that.

We don't get acknowledgment of his past, we don't get him rising from his pain and become something more. Instead we get a watered down version of him at the beginning who has NO reaction or introspection to anything whatsoever, not to the world they live in, to the way things are handled, and even to him losing OFA.

For some odd fucking reason, Izuku is never allowed to grow out "I'm worthless" mindset or realization that everyone in his life has failed him in one way or another. He just praises it all like the fanboy he is and just stays where he is.

And then there's the fact that he just flat out refuses to ever acknowledge his past in any meaningful way, as whenever he DOES bring it up, he talks about his past self as if he's a different person from him. To which I can kinda see how this could be symbolic of something... But it just doesn't work as it only makes him look horrible for forgetting his roots and just wanting to fit in with the other people with quirks. To which it somewhat feels like "Fuck the quirkless they're useless so why even focus on them?"

He's a hollow version of the idea of his character, just blankly reacting to things in front of him and praising Bakugou for being the best thing to come around. He honestly deserves better and deserves to be with a writer that won't bully him and give him the depth and development he needs.

Now who else am I missing...?

...

Oh yeah!

Katsuki Bakugou is still trash.

Look forward to the next part.

(Roundabout starts playing)

[royalsweetteaa]

Good intent

Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x Homeless!Reader

Chapter 1

ONLY 18+ | MINORS DNI

WARNING - This story contains the following: dark & suggesting themes such as kidnapping, non-con, explicit smut, obsessive behavior/possessive behavior/delusional behavior on Ransom’s part, Ransom being a creep in general, unbalanced power dynamic, Stockholm syndrome on reader’s part, classism, size kink, manipulation, angst, a bit of sad!Ransom, eventual fluff.

Ch. | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

Summary: Ransom is going through a mid-life crisis where he’s miserable and he wants to change things up to make his daily life more interesting. The change involves taking the freedom of someone who he deems is beneath societal suitability.

Narrator POV

For the past few weeks, Ransom Drysdale had taken notice of a new piece to his repetitive - and quite frankly, boring pattern of a routine.

Every Saturday evening, he and a couple of his so-called friends, who conveniently only hung out with him on occasions where he felt like wasting a lot of money, would go to the nightclub to get drunk, sometimes snort cocaine given the chance, then go their separate ways to hook up with whores when the evening came to an end.

This used to be Ransom’s highlight of the week, and it still was compared to what he did any other day.

He didn’t do much else at home other than occasionally picking up girls to go on a ride on the Beamer - one of his most precious possessions, to then end up at his house to hot sex. His sex drive had been indefinitely high ever since he started his trust fund of a life style. Being alone in a big house with too much money and no job to keep him occupied had led him to feel lonely, frustrated and lastly concluding - lust.

He used to love the attention he was given by the women who so easily spread their legs for him, but eventually he felt empty from them. Because despite how much they would beg him to use them like they were his personal sextoys in the heat of the moment, he knew deep down they didn’t rely on him as much as he relied on them. They were just as much after a good fuck as him, but as soon as he kicked them out of his house the morning after, they were off doing whatever ‘normal people’ do.

They probably had family, friends,…- he on the other hand was left to ponder on what to do next to entertain himself. He had yet to find that one thing that could bring some sort of stability and could satisfy his thirst for a lifelong entertainment. Getting a job was not one of them, no matter how much he sometimes considered it. He only had to remind himself of how miserable he was the few weeks he worked for Harlan at the publishing company.

No, he wanted something else.

And tonight, he thinks he might have found it.

A young woman had caught his eye each time he drove past the street that led to the nightclub. It was obvious enough that she was homeless, given that he had seen her laying against the wall of an apartment building, snuggling in her sleeping bag - reasonably so because it was the end of October. The nights were only getting colder as winter was right around the corner. She wasn’t wearing anything appropriate for the weather either - a thin jacket with no gloves and a hat barely covering her ears to keep her warm.

Her appearance alone wasn’t something he found eye catching. It was simply how there were rarely, if any homeless people around. This small town was known for people of high class, with the exception of lower classes visiting the area to spend the little extra money they had earned from their minimum wage paying job to have a once in a life time experience in the 5 star restaurants or in the luxurious nightclub. The few homeless people who did end up here would be kicked out days later, due to complaints from the rich of how they were ruining the reputation the town tries to uphold.

Ransom couldn’t stay more neutral on the case as he cared little to nothing about what the town decided to do with the less fortunate - as long as his money and property wasn’t personally affected, it didn’t matter to him.

But for once, he couldn’t help but be a little confused as to how this woman had lasted as long as she had. It had been more than a week, and she still hadn’t moved from her spot. Maybe the people who lived in the apartment didn’t mind her presence, or were too occupied to even notice her. She kept her spot pretty tidy too, making sure to not let any trash she may have to spread out on the pavement. She wasn’t the average homeless man who would beg for a penny either, which led Ransom to assume she had some money to cover a few basic needs but not enough to sleep somewhere.

These thoughts kept him preoccupied while he slowly downed the whiskey he had kept in his hand for the longest time. His friends seemed to take notice of how quiet he was the whole time, and tried to ignite his usual enthusiasm.

“See that chick over there? She’s come all this way from Missouri and I heard she gives the best head. Think it’d be good for you to let off some steam and give it a shot, pal.” One of the guys said smugly and pointed to the blonde who seemed to have already been checking out Ransom as she bit her bottom lip seductively.

Ransom sighed and sunk his shoulders. “Sure, why the fuck not.”

He walked up to the woman with a smirk on his face to keep up the same facade he’s had for a while. They flirted with each other - Ransom commented how her filthy words coming from her mouth was turning him on, though it was hardly the truth, and the woman replied with; “wanna see what other filthy things my mouth can do?”

One thing led to another, and he found himself in the handicap restroom with the woman between his legs sucking him off. It was good, - great even, but he felt nothing. This has been going on and on - he practically knows how the night is going to end and it makes him feel miserable. How would this spiral ever end if he kept on letting it happen?

“Fuck-! Stop, just stop.” Ransom said hastily while pushing the woman off of him. “I can’t fucking do this right now.” The blonde had an offended look on her face, but he paid no mind as he tucked his dick back in his boxers and zipped up his trousers. As he left the restroom he could hear her shout after him “you piece of shit!”

It caught the attention of one of his buddies, and they asked if something went wrong, to which he muttered: “I’m leaving. M’tired of this fuckin’ place.”

None of them bothered to go after him after that. Of course they wouldn’t.

He walked towards his car that was parked only feet away from the nightclub entrance. The little alcohol in his system wasn’t enough to make him not sober, so he was confident to drive home safely. Though, his plan wasn’t to drive straight home even if he tried to convince himself it was all the reason he left early.

Driving closer to the all too familiar street, he scanned alongside the pavement, grinning mischievously when his eyes landed on the mysterious homeless woman.

There she is.

Slowing the car down, he came to a full stop when his car reached alongside her. She seemed to have awoken abruptly from the car’s rumbling engine, and glanced up to be met by the driver’s eyes. His gaze was on her through the whole process of him turning off the engine to him stepping out of his car.

He has never been this close to her, and so he took his time to study her face. Upon a closer look, he found her to be quite pretty. Cute even. Dare he say attractive if it wasn’t for the dust on her cheeks, her greasy hair and fashionably outdated clothes. In a sense, he felt dominant as his tall frame seemed to threaten her. Maybe it was the cold temperature, but he liked to think her sudden stiff composure was because of him.

“What’s your name?” Ransom asked, deciding to finally break the silence.

She gave him a cautious look before mumbling her name. One could easily miss it, but Ransom had sharp ears when he really wanted to listen.

“Y/N, huh..pretty name. Name’s Hugh Drysdale. I live not far from here and have seen you a couple times while driving by. Care to tell me how you ended up here?”

“Why? Do I bother you?” She asked condescendingly.

He frowned, slightly irritated. “No, just wanna know because I might be of help. No need for the attitude.” He said. Ransom surprised himself by saying the word ‘I’ and ‘help’ in the same sentence. Guess there’s a first time for everything.

Y/N’s face softened immediately at the mention of help, lowering her guard. “Oh, I see.. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I just assumed the worst coming from a guy who has just been at a nightclub.”

So she’s noticed me too. Neat. He thought to himself. “Yeah, I go there from time to time but decided to leave early. Didn’t feel up for it today and I’m still sober, which led me to you.” Ransom explained himself. “You were gonna tell me what happened?”

Y/N sighed and lowered her head as though the mere reminder of her life story made her tired. “If you insist….- I got kicked out from my parents’ house two years ago when I turned 18 because they thought it was the perfect opportunity to let me go without legal consequences. I never had a good relationship with them to begin with as I was always seen as a burden than anything else. I then moved in with an ex-friend but it didn’t work out in the long run. Never found a job either which refrained me from finding a place and paying pay rent. I moved around a lot, from state to state. I used to live in my car but eventually had to sell it to have money for food and other things - and that leads me to where I am right now.”

Ransom shook his head, “Damn, you’ve been through a lot. All this time…having to deal with so much on your own. Must have been hard.” He said, leaning against the same wall beside her with his arms crossed. Deep down he scoffed at how little he could relate to her.

The only thing Ransom felt like he could personally relate to was on the topic of having a troubling relationship with parents. Sure, he wasn’t kicked out of his parents’ house without a bank account containing a large sum of money, but he felt the part where he was also unwanted by his parents, - not to mention by his whole family.

They all hated him and saw him as the black sheep of the family. Harlan was more patient with Ransom compared to the rest, since He was still getting his monthly allowance to continue with his foolery. In the end however, he was left by himself, which led him to realize another thing -

She has no one. Just like me.

He looked down at her from where he was standing, taking in how fragile she looked. How small and weak she was compared to him. He has - and could have anything he wanted, while she has nothing. The contrast between them made him feel something he has never felt before.

“Yeah, it sucks...I don’t want you to feel bad for me though. I have been very lucky to not have been robbed or experience…worse things. People seem to be too busy here and haven’t bothered me. It has made my time out here so much easier. I know I’ll find my place once I get out of here.” Y/N said with a smile.

Ransom hummed contently. He liked her voice. He could get used to hearing her talking about anything her heart desired. “…you know, I can tell you’re freezing just by looking at you. It would be inhumane of me to leave you here for another night. I have a spare guest room and a bathroom you could use for as much as you’d like, till you…figure out where to go from there I guess.”

She looked up at him with doe eyes that made his mind go wild with scenarios - most of them being in a sexual manner. Her in his arms as he kissed her and made her go down on her knees, looking at him with those same eyes while she sucked his-

“Oh, I really appreciate the offer Hugh, but I really don’t need your help. As of tomorrow early, I’ll be on my way to Pennsylvania where I have been offered a place.-“

The fuck?

“Its a shelter for the homeless youth, and the bus I’m taking goes in about…” she checks her watch for a brief moment. It was currently midnight. “..six hours, so I think I’ll do just fine until then. It’s exclusively on its way to where I need to be and it’d be a disaster if I missed it.” She said and chuckled to herself at the mere thought. “But like I said, it was nice of you to-!”

Before she finished her sentence, Ransom straightened his posture, moved away from the wall without sparing her a glance and walked towards his car. The car door was swung open and he slammed it closed once he was behind the wheel. Within seconds, he was back on the main road and drove his way home. His grip on the steering wheel was tight. He was trying to remain calm but he was bad at it. Thoughts and questions were irking him up even more as he got closer to his house.

SHE doesn’t NEED my help? Who the fuck did she think she was talking to? The CEO of charity case? Get the fuck out of here.

Can’t believe she’s picking a fucking homeless shelter over my offer. Ungrateful cunt. Guess she thrives on living in a shithole.

She’s a nobody. She’s nothing. She’s below what is considered a decent member of society, and yet -

she doesn’t need me.

Ransom was fueled with anger at this point. His ego was painfully bruised. He has never offered someone like her any type of service, and when he does for the first time, he’s rejected.

Furthermore, he found himself disappointed that he thought this would go somewhere. He fantasized that if she accepted, he could give her everything and she would see him as her savior from a pitiful life. And in return, he would have her as his thing. The thing that would provide him a satisfactory life. He wanted to be the only reason for her entire livelihood and her to be nothing without him. The mere thought aroused him and made him realize how sick he was, but he didn’t care. He had seen her face and it was enough for him to be sure that he wants that with her. A nobody that had nothing other than him - Hugh Ransom Drysdale.

So what’s stopping him? Who said he had to leave it at her meek rejection? His inner thoughts asked.

It was then when he decided. He was going to get her for his own pleasure, and add good intent to it.

Ransom had taken a few shots at home to calm his nerves while plotting the unthinkable inside his head.

He has had many sinister thoughts in the past during desperate times, but he never acted upon them as he always found a way around it. This time wasn’t like those other times though. It felt like a higher calling was telling him that he had to take action or else he would miss what’s right in front of him. His ticket out of a miserable spiral.

It was 02:30 in the morning, and after taking in careful consideration, he backs out of his driveway and drives downtown once again. A handkerchief and a bottle of chloroform is neatly placed on the passenger seat.

The party at the nightclub had died down by now, and most people had departed. All the lights except for the head lights were off across the whole street where Y/N was resting. She was slotted in the dark between two head lights and could barely be seen from a distance. This was a huge advantage on Ransom’s part. He parked the Beamer a little further away not to wake her. Only for a few minutes did he wait to be sure it was the right time to approach.

He picked up the bottle of chloroform, holding it away from his face as much as possible while opening it and making the handkerchief ready for use. A few drops of sweat had appeared on his forehead, probably from nervousness. This has to go as swiftly as possible or I’m out of luck.

With quiet steps he approached her, with the handkerchief sprayed with a dose of the drug in his hand.

When he was close enough, he shoved the handkerchief onto Y/N’s nose and mouth, holding her body down with his other hand causing her whole body to jolt awake, her eyes wide open and whimpering out of distress. She tried to resist and push him off but her strength was quickly drained from the drug and her eyes twitched, trying to have them remain open.

“Shhhh, it’s alright sweetheart, go back to sleep..” he cooed. Her body started to slump downwards to the ground again, but he held her back steadily and lifted her up with both of his arms. She was completely knocked out, and while he cautiously looked around for any witnesses - only to see none, he hooked her backpack on his arm with her and rushed back to the Beamer, putting her in the passenger seat. He left her sleeping bag behind, secretly hoping that It’ll add fuel to the fire and piss some people off that a homeless person had left their stuff behind like many times before.

While driving back, Ransom took quick glances at the woman he had taken while still maintaining concentration to the road. His thumb reached out to her cheek and he attempted to smear off the dust, unsuccessfully doing so.

“Don’t worry, kitten. We’ll get you all cleaned up.” He mumbled, more to himself than to her.

He laid her body in the guest room and gathered supplies for her to use in the morning. Towels, bottles of shampoo with different fragrances, a deodorant, toothpaste and a toothbrush - everything a person would need. He knew he would have to buy clothes for her too, but he wouldn’t be able to do that until tomorrow. She can wear his clothes in the meantime.

He had these extra supplies stored after his mother complained relentlessly on how little personalized the guest room was. He would argue that the extra stash was useless because he wouldn’t have any guests over in the near future.

Guess he could finally admit he was wrong. Those silly soaps with different scents would come to great use in the hands of Y/N. Or maybe in the use of his own hands roaming around her body.

While he expected her to clean herself by her own when the morning arose, he figured he could do the easy task of cleaning her face.

Fetching a clean cloak and soaking it up in semi hot water, he brought it to Y/N’s face, gently rubbing at the spots where the dust had stained her skin. He touched her hair out of curiosity and leaned in to smell if she had any odor.

He smelled something that he couldn’t quite pinpoint, and upon closer look he noticed her roots were stained with a tint of white. He put one and one together - she had been using baby powder to keep her hair from turning greasy and smelly after assumingely going weeks off washing her hair. Poor little thing, he thought. And she thought she would be better off at a shelter than be with me. As if that would make her life any better. How pathetic.

In a less discreet way, he removed her jacket and unbuttoned her shirt to remove her bra. The countless of women that have been over at his place would always complain leaving their bras on for the whole night, leaving their breasts sore from the restraint. With this knowledge, he had an excuse to take a peek at her breasts.

Once Ransom figured out how to remove the straps, he was met by two perky nipples staring right back at him. His mouth watered at the sight. He felt the restraint of his trousers tightening.

Less than 24 hours ago, he could be found having a threesome with two prostitutes in his king sized bed - yet, this somehow made him more easily riled up compared to the last several intercourses he has had.

His hand reached out to squeeze one of her tits. They were so soft. So beautiful. His other hand reached to his bulge, palming it with slow strokes. His breath hitched and he abruptly stopped both acts.

Fuck, get it together, Ransom. There will be a time to have her, but that will have to be after she has showered.

Buttoning her shirt back together and taking her bra with him to the dirty laundry basket, he left the guest room and went straight to his bedroom.

Through his wardrobe of clothes was an access control panel controlling the level of security he wanted the house to be on. Most doors and openable windows relied on the level of security the control panel was set to. In this case scenario, Ransom had now maximized the level of security - meaning all windows were now completely sealed and all doors leading outside would remain locked at all times - unless he typed in the code. That way, Y/N would be free to roam around the house without him being worried she might run away. The system was secured enough for her to never figure out the code. His house had large glass exterior, but thankfully there were blenders to block the outside world.

He didn’t have to worry about passerby’s seeing Y/N when he wasn’t around to keep her in check. There were hardly any people around where he lived, but he didn’t want to risk it.

He did have a basement he could put her in as well, but that would be too cruel. After all, he’s not a monster. He only has good intentions, even though some of them may be morally questionable.

Finally tucking himself into bed, he kept a smirk on his face as he let his eyes finally rest. The morning excited him. He was prepared that Y/N would be defensive and show resistance, but he was determined to put her in her place and make her see his way. -

Make her realize she needs him, make her crave him for his riches and understand that only through him she can be a somebody.

Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated! <3

[theravenclawlover]

🎃Kinktober Day 30🎃

Day Prompt: Master & Slave/Teratophilia/tit fucking

Word Count: 1,624

Warnings: +18 (MDNI), dark!Din (?), sexual content, blowjob, slave/master dynamics, the reader is a slave, accidental voyeurism, Stockholm syndrome (? the reader has a thing for Din so idk), takes place during the first season because Din still has the Razor Crest, and my shit writing as usual.

A/N: This is just me really wanting to suck off Din, also this is shit but the type that still has a kick ya know?

Dark!Din Djarin x GN!Reader

You had no family, no family name to carry as you were the child of a common whore. And your mother had gotten rid of you by handing you over to be raised as nothing more than a slave. And that implied of all sorts, so to you, it was no surprise when one day—out of the blue—you had been ‘gifted’ to a Mandalorian who had saved your people from a ferocious beast. He’d been in the passing, and he’d been paid for his time. Credits and you.

He'd tried to not accept you, knowing what you were by just your clothes, but your old Master had pushed for it, making you sound like a fine meal when they treated you like the leftovers eaten by the street animals.

Ultimately, the Mandalorian gave in and took you to his ship. And now, many cycles later, you were still under his ownership. With the way he’d tried to refuse at first you wondered now if it all had been a mild courtesy to seem not too thrilled about owning a person. Because he was more than happy to boss you around, telling you to clean, cook with what he found, and help with his child whenever he had a job. And to make sure you didn’t think about running for it on whatever next planet you landed, he’d put a collar on you, and wrist bracelets that would shock you if you stepped out of the ship.

But oddly enough, you knew you couldn’t run. Not because you had a soft spot for the little green creature that cooed at you to be picked up or to just watch you cook. No. You stayed because there was something about your Master that intrigued you, something that made you stare at him and his shiny Beskar armor, something about his deep and distorted voice when commanded you.

It was odd, but maybe it all had led you to this moment. Maybe all those questions of why you had stayed were being answered right now.

You hadn’t meant to disrupt him, it was routine for you to check for any mess the child had made in the cockpit. How could you have known your Master had removed some of his armor that covered his pelvic area, reveling black clothes underneath that allowed him to take out his cock, to then grab it and tug at it until he gasping, trying his best to not let any distorted sound carry so you knew.

And when you had walked in, you had seen just how close he’d been—if the twitching and rapid breathing were any hints.

But he saw you, and he let out a cuss, stopping in movements to look at you through his helmet, and it had rendered you motionless. Not even watching him masturbate had shocked you, but his eyes on you had sent a shiver down your spine. Your hands were in fists as you tried to pant as it settled on you that you were turned on. Watching him had turned you on, and his gaze on you with his hand still around his hard and wet cock had only made you feel what arousal was meant to feel like. Or at least you guessed as your intimates were throbbing like they had become a beacon to anyone that could hear it.

You didn’t move, and neither did he. But as you attempted a meek apology, he leaned back against his chair, spreading his legs even more. Exposing to you more of his cock and his hands began to give small and slow strokes.

“Kneel.”

It shouldn’t have made you feel like it did. You’ve been ordered most of your adult life to offer relief to anyone who saw fit, and all those times your stomach had felt sick, but his simple command had made your throbbing more difficult to ignore.

You moved to kneel between his legs, making sure not to touch him as you did. You tried to look nonchalant as you stared at the dick in front of you, all slick with saliva and precum, all pent up from an unfinished chase to orgasm. Your mouth watered as you pictured yourself sucking him clean when asked you to swallow, or maybe he’ll just make it land on your face, your tongue catching whatever it could before you dared to lick around your cum-stained lips.

A distorted hum made you look up, and your mouth shut closed. You hadn’t even noticed you had it slightly open as your tongue poked out to lick your upper lip in thought.

“Eager to please your Master?” he said in a mocking tone, voice deep but labored as his pace picked up just a notch to tease himself.

“Yes, Master. Always pleased to serve you, Master,” you said like you meant it, and maybe you did. Perhaps you meant it here. Not when you were cleaning grease stains, but maybe whenever he decided to use you again because there had to be, you needed it to be.

“Good,” he stopped and gripped his cock, and his other—still gloved—hand grabbed at your chin bringing your face closer to his crotch until you could practically feel the heat of his body. “Open up, slave.”

Your mouth opened quickly, tongue sticking out as if to you ask him to use you however he liked. Your eyes were hopeful and needy.

The Mandalorian gave a dark chuckle as he tapped the tip of his cock on your tongue, and as he groaned at the contact of something other than his hand, you moaned while your eyes fluttered.

He tapped it a few more times before he pushed it in, letting hit your throat. Your eyes fluttered as you suppressed the need to gag, a moan erupting instead to match his groan.

“That’s it,” he moaned, his hands grabbing at your head as he moved to test how good you could take him, little by little forcing you to take him until your lips were touching his pelvis and your nose was buried in the curls of hair that remained slick and wild. Your hands gripped at your shirt as you sucked. Practiced moves helping you please in ways you hadn’t cared much for, only learning to spare yourself insults of horny men. But now you were trying to show off, make sure just how good of a slave he had, how good you were for him. No one to replace you.

After minutes of him putting you to an initial test, he pulled you back all the way, and you gasped, taking in all the oxygen you could. Your cheeks were wet from tears, the corners of your mouth slick with spit and pre-cum. Your tongue darted to clean it off out of instinct to get rid of the stain. Your tastebuds were received with more saltiness, drowning yourself in his taste.

Without a warning, your Master pulled you back, and this time he didn’t hold back. It was time for him to finish what you had interrupted, and it was only fitting that you helped with it.

His groans and moans were loud and deep through the codifier, making it feel like it rang in the enclosed space, and all you could do was take everything he was giving you to the point of feeling and hearing nothing but him.

His fingers dug into your scalp as his hips snapped every so often as he fucked your mouth, saliva now spilling down your chin to your shirt, your hands clawing at your thighs as your hips moved against nothing in search to qualm your throbbing needs.

“Such a good slave, kriff, takin’ my cock so well, so eager to please your Master, ready to take my cock like a good pet.” You moaned and whined as you nodded your head, a choked moan escaping him. You were doing so good.

When his thrusting and bobbing of your head turned erratic, his cock began to hit deeper down your throat and this time the gags couldn’t be held back. But the panic at your mistake felt uncalled for when your Master threw his head back, a louder groan as he hit your throat again. Another gag was pulled from you, and he seemed to look for that, and as you cried and moaned like a wanton whore, you quivered in need. For him.

A groan of a curse left his mouth as he shoved you down his cock to keep you there. The pulsing of his cock in your throat was obscene as you tried to not choke and move, swallowing the ropes of cum being dumped inside of you. Your nails dug into your skin through your pants as you felt air cutting short, but then your Master was pulling you back with a harsh tug.

You gasped loudly as you coughed, tears escaping you in relief, need, and whatever else your body couldn’t quite comprehend at the moment.

“Show me,” he demanded as he brought you close, pulling your head back to lift your head for him. You opened your mouth, sticking your tongue to show that you had taken his cum.

“Good, slave. Very good,” he let go of you, fixing himself as you remained on your knees and expecting his commands.

“Thank you, Master.”

“Off you go,” he said. You moved to stand, a small feeling of disappointment as he hadn’t needed more from you. And you opened the door to go down, he called back. “Finish whatever you must before coming back to me. Naked.”

The throbbing reassumed, and you clenched your hands to hide your eagerness.

“Yes, Master.”

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

Day 16: No Way Out, with some influence from the extra prompt Paralytic Drugs.

A snippet into normal life (unlife?) for Tommy in the Immortal Primeboys universe, his hidden resentments, and how little they seem to matter when Dream won’t even let him leave his room. Warnings for forced family dynamics, incredibly toxic family dynamics, abuse, dehumanisation, infantilisation, forced codependency, referenced torture, victim blaming, violent outbursts, drugging (with Minecraft potions), manipulation, gaslighting, severe Stockholm and Lima syndrome, and an extremely unreliable narrator.

AO3 link, if you prefer.

Please don’t find me, please don’t find me, please don’t find me.

Tommy repeated the words in his head like a prayer to the Primes, even though he knew full well they wouldn’t listen. After all, no Gods nor Primes could hold dominion over him, not anymore. He belonged to Dream, mind, body and soul.

Things had gotten a lot easier once he’d accepted that. He and Dream weren’t separate in this world; they were two parts of a greater whole. Beyond life and death, undying but certainly not living, they were the only people who could ever understand each other. They were brothers, in every way that mattered.

Which was why Tommy was, presently, breaking the rules. After all, what’s a little brother who’s not a troublemaker?

That’s what they reckoned, at least. Tommy had never had any family other than Dream- well, except fucking Wilbur, and that shithead didn’t count, and Dream had XD and Drista, but as Gods, they weren’t exactly normal siblings, so they’d had to improvise. They’d watched so many movies, read so many books, taken detailed notes and worked them into a fully defined system. It wasn’t normal, but there was very little about the two that was, really. It was close enough, and it made them happier than anyone else, so it was fine. It was fine.

It’s not like Dream would even hurt him that bad if he found him, anyway. He was meant to be recovering from their latest round of Manhunt, and that was one of the few times Tommy could guarantee avoiding Dream’s wrath. It was simply a fair exchange- Tommy always got banged up pretty bad, since, as immortals, they didn’t need to hold back while playing, so in the weeks it took to heal, Dream would spoil the shit out of him, play whatever less hurty games he wanted, bring him food and drink, spend hours by his side, anything he wanted.

Except letting him have some fucking independence.

Yeah, of course Dream was doing what was best, but that didn’t mean Tommy had to like it. Dream smothered him at the best of times, but it always got so much worse while he was healing. Tommy liked being helpful. Sure, there wasn’t much he could do all fucked up like this, but he could still help with the cooking and cleaning, maybe do some sewing. Not all of it, like he insisted upon when he was fully healthy, but he could do something. He wanted to, desperately. Being like this made him feel like a burden, reliant on his big brother for everything, and it pissed him off to no end.

Creeping from the nest (nesting was an instinct he’d picked up some time alone in the wilds as a very little kid, and Dream always built one on the floor for him because he wailed all night when he was alone) to the door, Tommy did his best to stay quiet as his body ached. Last week’s round was… well, intense.

Tommy didn’t do terribly, else he’d probably be far too injured to even sit, let alone stand after Dream took out his frustration on him, but he still didn’t do well enough, and Dream had taken some extra time to punish him for that. Honestly, Tommy had the sneaking suspicion it was as much to be able to dote on him longer as much as anything else, though, of course, Dream also just loved to see Tommy squirm. What big brother didn’t bully their little siblings every once in a while, right?

Still, he flinched at the way the wounded soles of his feet touched the ground, as the deep gashes in his legs slowly stitched themselves together. He told himself that maybe that’d serve as a reminder to be more entertaining next time. That was part of his job- to amuse Dream- as much as it was Dream’s job to ground him, keep him safe and out of trouble and securely locked in their gilded cage. What kind of brother was he if he couldn’t fulfil his end of the bargain?

It was all his fault, really.

He didn’t even know where he was going, just that he couldn’t lie still and wait anymore. The idea was intolerable, even if Dream was just a call away and he had books on the side to occupy himself. He didn’t want to fucking occupy himself, he wanted to do something worthwhile. The garden must be overflowing with weeds by now, and he had so many sewing projects to do, and things to cook and clean. For a second, just a single second, he could pretend he was anything more than a lost puppy desperately waiting for his master to return.

He could pretend he was his own person.

It was a delusion, to pretend he was anything more than a silly kid who needed his big brother for anything, who was fucked up with so many Wrong Memories and outbursts he couldn’t be trusted with any more independence than doing the dishes, and even then while on a tight leash (not literally, not anymore). It was silly, and wrong, and it felt worse than breaking a million rules. Tommy let himself do it anyway.

It was dangerous and selfish, but he’d let himself have one dangerous and selfish moment. Just one. It’s not like anyone would notice.

“Tommy?”

Shit. Shitshitshitshitshitshit.

Agonisingly turning himself around, hoping to maybe get back to the blankets before Dream noticed anything, he instead found himself staring directly into his worried face, golden eyes and scars gleaming. Faintly, it made him remember the ichor in his veins, and he flushed slightly, imagining how he’d accidentally soaked the poor floor in golden blood. If he’d done it on purpose, he’d probably get in trouble, but now it’d probably just remain an annoyance until they moved. That stuff didn’t scrub out of anything, even centuries down the line, and Tommy had tried.

(Why was he thinking about bloodstains and cleaning now, of all times? With the terrifying face of the man who was all but God to him, his power unquestionable and unending, staring straight at him?)

“Tommy, are you okay? You’re meant to be resting.” Dream’s voice was soft, but it made Tommy’s hair stand on end automatically. If there was anything he felt more than love for his brother, it was fear. “What do you need? I’ll get it for you, just, let’s get you back to bed, hmm?”

“I don’t wanna lie in bed all day.” When he said those words, it felt like releasing a dam, like a flood of frustration and anger suddenly rushed out of him from Prime knows where. The thought was terrifying and confusing. Sure, he was somewhat frustrated at Dream, but he wasn’t angry. He wasn’t stupid enough to feel angry at Dream.

“Well, you need to, to get better-“

“Maybe I don’t want to get better!” A powder keg would be a firework in relation to the sudden explosion Tommy had, his voice raising suddenly into a shout. “Maybe I’d rather fucking hurt forever than be your fucking pet to spoil, a toddler to coo over! I’m- I’m sixteen, not a fucking infant. You can’t go from hunting me down like I’m prey to treating me like I’m made of glass. You can’t keep treating me like I’m not even a person and expect me to play happy family with you!”

The words out of his mouth felt twisted, wrong, yet so, so cathartic. Like he was letting out some deeply hidden part of himself. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was the Wrong Memories disappearing, and he’d be able to be good once this was all done. Or maybe he was such a failure that he couldn’t even love his family properly.

Dream raised his arm, reaching towards Tommy’s shoulder. “Tommy, calm-“

Tommy clawed at the arm, hissing like a wild animal. “Don’t touch me! Don’t fucking touch me, you prick! You’re not my brother. You’re not my fucking friend. You’re my jailer; that’s what you are. I hate you. I hate you!” Wet tears stung at his eyes, and dimly he noted he hadn’t cried without forcing himself in so long until now.

Dream sighed, tightening his grasp, as Tommy struggled and yelled and screamed.

“Fuck off! Fuck you! You- you’re a fucking liar, man! I don’t know how I believed all that bullshit you pulled. You don’t even care about me, do you? I’m just- I’m just your fucking punching bag for you to torture. You say all this shit about me being special, and then you treat me like a glorified fucking lapdog, a doll to play happy fucking families with and carry around and show off.” No, no, no. This was all wrong. Tommy loved Dream, and Dream loved him. “You hate me. You fucking hate me. Just admit it! Because, y’know, I hate you-“

The sting of the needle was barely even enough to register as pain at this point. Tommy would be lying if he said he was unfamiliar with it- sometimes, he had such violent panic attacks Dream needed to sedate him, but never an outburst quite this bad. The concentrated mix of Slowness and Weakness worked quickly, sending Tommy bucking to his knees as tendrils of fog invaded his brain, the fire in his heart dulling to a pleasant warm feeling.

“There you go,” Dream said quietly enough Tommy could barely hear it over the roaring static in his ears, and he picked him up effortlessly like he was made of knitting. He felt warm and safe, and the feeling made Tommy start to tear up again.

“I hate you.” he sobbed into Dream’s shoulder. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do!” Tommy wailed, his voice choked and sounding like the least hateful thing possible. “I hate you. Let me go.”

“You’d be crawling back to me in a week. No chance.” Gently, Dream set Tommy back down in a mound of pillows. Tommy tried to throw one at him, but his arm barely twitched.

“Try me.”

“I don’t think I will, not when you’re like this.” Dream chuckled. “You need rest, comfort, and since I am your guardian, I’ll provide you with it no matter what you say.”

“Just leave me alone.” Tommy’s voice was barely above a scratchy whisper at this point, and he thanked Prime for letting him stop. Maybe he’d been cursed to say the most un-Tommylike things possible.

Dream laughed again. “Not with that little stunt you pulled. I was just in the other room, honestly. I’m not letting you out of my sight again.” He reached down to ruffle the brittle-white of Tommy’s hair. “Now look, your braids got all undone in your tantrum. I put so much time into them, y’know. Guess I’m gonna have to do them all again, right?”

Tommy was happy. Tommy was fine with this. The sobbing, the shaking, that was the horrible fake thing he hated. It was the Wrong Memories returning and screwing everything over again. Prime, he was such a failure.

But Dream loved him for some reason, and he could take pride in that. Being Dream’s little brother was all he wanted in the world.

[ao3feed-crimeboys]

It's A Very Checkmate Christmas

by Love_Lucigoosey

Tommy hummed softly in agreement, smiling, and then paused.

His eyes widened. "Oh my fucking god, it's Christmas-"

"Yeah!" Wilbur laughed, spinning around to face him again. He was still grinning, all smiles, eyes sparkling. Tommy would be lying if he said his brother's excitement wasn't contagious; he found a rather wide smile growing on his own face as Wilbur wandered back over to him, clasping his hands together. "Come on, let's wake everyone up! I wanna open our presents first before everybody else gets here."

Words: 8800, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 37 of ♚♛ Checkmate ♛♚

Fandoms: Dream SMP, Minecraft (Video Game)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: Gen

Characters: TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot, Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Ghostbur (Dream SMP), Cara | CaptainPuffy, Bloom The Moobloom, Sunshine the Moobloom, Toby Smith | Tubbo, Jack Manifold, Fundy (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Sam | Awesamdude, Phil Watson | Philza, Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Jeffrey the Crow, Michael the Piglin (Dream SMP), Niki | Nihachu, Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF)

Relationships: TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF) & Everyone, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Ghostbur (Dream SMP) & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Captain Puffy & Tommy Innit, TommyInnit & Bloom the Moobloom, TommyInnit & Sunshine the Moobloom, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit

Additional Tags: dsmp stockholm syndrome au, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Christmas Presents, Happy TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Happy Wilbur Soot, Happy Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit is Loved (Video Blogging RPF), Family Fluff, Found Family, Family Dynamics, Soft TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Soft Wilbur Soot, Soft Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Healing, Recovery

[i-make-fun-of-spn-characters]

I feel like you've given most spn related things some lil spice but I always love the spice on this : hot spicy take on the "Dean is the most horrible character and ruins everyone's life and Sam and Cas are poor little meow meows who only do bad things sometimes because tyran Dean farted in their direction" takes that are not really only said by anti-Dean peeps ? Obsessed with that incredible thesis and would love the added spice ❤

SPICY HOT HOT GHOST PEPPERS CAROLINA REAPERS HELP I'M BURNING

I really try to respect other people’s opinions, and I believe there are a wealth of ways to interpret a story, and I think that’s a deeply beautiful thing. This applies to interpretations I don't agree with and outright dislike as well. That said, some opinions are simply and objectively bad, dishonest, and/or demonstrably false, and I truly do not believe you can sit down and honestly watch through the show with an open mind about all the characters, truly pay attention to what they do, say, and believe, and come to the conclusion that this show is about an evil manipulative abusive man terrorizing his pure and sinless brother and friend. It is an interpretation built from cherry picking facts to suit an ugly, miserable theory, making Mount Everest out of a bunch of the tiny mole hills, making the worst possible presumptions of feelings and intentions, and holding characters to completely different standards in order to neatly divide them into "abused" and "abuser" in a way that, frankly, fetishizes the abused person. I despise this interpretation of the story with every fiber of my being, and I have absolutely no respect for the opinion of anyone who peddles it, regardless of who they cast as villain/victim (because people have also done this with the others—it’s just more “popular” to do it with Dean... I mean... does anyone else remember how people were shitting on Sam after his emotional reaction in 14.12? Calling him an evil abuser? Because I do).

The thing that always gets me about this take isn't just how dishonest, unfair, mean-spirited, and compassionless it is in its treatment of Dean’s feelings, circumstances, and intentions... but how deeply reductive and offensive it is toward Sam and Castiel, sucking away their identities to turn them into effigies to mourn for their sad, Stockholm syndrome-esque attachment to their "abuser". Further, it grips the heart of the show—the relationship between Sam and Dean, and then the relationship among TFW as a whole—in a tight, uncompromising fist and pulverizes it. It literally rips out the heart of the show (the RELATIONSHIPS) and replaces it with something unprepossessing of any merit: A miserable, 15 years long story about a malicious abuser getting away with terrorizing those closest to him for his entire life, while his poor abuse victims suffer through until they die for him/happy to be reunited with him because they “don’t know any better” and never ever learned better, I guess. What a stupid, sad sack of a story.

Castiel is a thousands of years old celestial being who has literally beaten Dean into the pavement under no form of mind control, and has shown over and over again that he will do whatever the hell he wants, regardless of whatever Dean thinks about being sidelined. If he thinks whatever he is doing is in Dean's best interest, he literally does not care how Dean feels about it. He will nod and smile and then fly off and swallow thousands of souls with Dean begging him not to, shove Dean out of the way to attack the big bad, leave Dean alone in Purgatory, refuse to come out of Purgatory so he can self-flagellate, fly off with the angel tablet, help Sam with the Book of the Damned, let Lucifer possess him without anyone's knowledge or agreement, come into Dean's room under the guise of apologizing for ghosting him so that he can steal The Colt out from under his pillow and murder someone, decide not to murder that person and still prevent Sam and Dean from helping by knocking them both unconscious, get himself killed, make a deal to trade his life for Jack's and never tell anyone, hide information and worries and ignore phone calls, ghost Sam and Dean, and bicker and fight with Dean as if they are a married couple. Love sickness and feelings of worthlessness (which Cas has a wealth of reasons to feel—many of which aren’t even related to Dean but to his heavenly family) are reinterpreted as the result of some sort of constant, terrorizing emotional abuse. Power and authority that Dean does not actually have is forced into his hands by these fans. Maybe listen when Cas says, “Hey—not everything is your fault.” Maybe listen when he says “I loved the whole world because of you”, calls Dean a role model, says he enjoys their conversations, offers to die with him and dies for him multiple times. Maybe treat these feelings as genuine and valid and HIS and not as the delusions of some poor manipulated baby. 

Sam is framed this way even more often than Cas, and it's a damn shame, because what I typically see is this: Sam’s development into a mediator and peacemaker is twisted and reinterpreted as coming from a place of weakness and/or fear. Rationality, maturity, wisdom, and compassion are not the traits of a scared, powerless child. They are the traits of a mature adult, who has been beaten down by life, and fought and raged against his circumstances, and somehow come out of it with more kindness and understanding and strength instead of less. He has made his own decisions whenever it was possible, within the set of circumstances doled out to him. From telling his dad to go fuck himself and going to college, to getting back into hunting to avenge Jess (NOT because of Dean—Dean took him home without complaint at the end of the woman in white case), to continuing to hunt after their father died because he wanted to feel close to him (Dean was actually weirded out and sort of disgusted by this), raging and fighting to save Dean from his deal against Dean’s wishes, continuing to hunt and working with Ruby (directly against Dean’s dying wish), drinking demon blood, jumping in the cage, leaving hunting to go be with Amelia, coming back to hunting to save Kevin, fighting with Dean over what he had with Amelia and threatening to leave if Dean didn't shut his mouth, leaving Amelia to go back to hunting (Dean ultimately suggests he go back to her—Sam chooses to stay), trying to kill Benny, demanding to be the one to do The Trials and saying he is going to SURVIVE them—that being the ENTIRE POINT, losing that resolve in a fit of depression but choosing to drop the knife, demanding space from Dean (and being given it), fighting to save Demon Dean who didn’t want to be found or saved, using the Book of the Damned against Dean’s wishes, telling Charlie that this is what he wants—that he used to want normal but now all he wants is to hunt with Dean and that he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he can’t have that, unleashing the Darkness in his desperation to keep Dean with him and even saying, “I would do it again” in the aftermath, saving the town being destroyed by Amara, getting into The Cage with Lucifer, leading a team against the British Men of Letters, nurturing Jack, punching Dean in the face when he was going to sacrifice himself, leading more hunters, wielding a gun against Chuck... and that’s just some highlights. Sam Fucking Winchester does not need your bullshit about him being some sad, scared, helpless baby lorded over by mean old Dean who has never let him do anything he wants. 

Yes, in the text itself, there is jealousy and resentment at times, and there is legitimate and righteous anger on Sam’s part on a few occasions. There is blame cast on Dean by Sam for some of these choices/circumstances. Some of those moments where Dean is blamed are legitimate, and some of them... frankly, are not. Within the framework of the fucked up dynamics of the way they were raised, Sam and some fans bristle when they feel Dean is casting himself as the parent he is not, but Sam also has been guilty in the past of trying to reframe himself as Dean’s child when things got tough. Neither of them is responsible for the origin of that dynamic, but they BOTH have responsibility to change it, and they both, ultimately, succeed in doing so. For Sam, his part comes in recognizing and learning to fully own his own choices. Recognizing that he is not a child, and he is certainly not Dean’s child, and it isn’t just “Mummy—loosen the grip”, but Sam has to too—not claim independence only to blame Dean for his choices when his own decisions have an ultimate outcome he is unhappy with. That is a legitimate arc that Sam goes through imo, but he comes out the other side of it, and he and Dean relate to each other much better as peers from then on—and I’d like to note that throughout the entire series, when they don’t relate as perfect peers and teammates, it isn’t always Dean “bossing Sam around”, but Sam also trying to sideline Dean and yes—boss him around. And when they lied and hurt each other and yes, even manipulated each other, Dean most certainly wasn't always the one doing the lying and hurting and manipulating. Always, always, ALWAYS, they both had an understandable point of view, and it was complex, and you could understand why they made the choices they did, even if you thought of those choices as being wrong ones. 

I also would like to point out (because this is basically what I see all of the time) that Dean being hurt by someone or simply voicing his feelings or opinion is in no way abusive or manipulative. Dean is certainly charismatic and loved and his returning love and respect is often deeply desired, but he is not an actual siren, who bends people to his will simply by speaking or being. People are, in fact, able to tell him “no”, and frequently FREQUENTLY do. Further more, no one is owed his affection, his unwavering loyalty, or his trust. He has a right to his boundaries, regardless of if it makes some poor sad sap feel deprived of the “wellspring of coveted love” while he works through things. He can be hurt and angry, and he can wear his heart on his sleeve at times, and he can be flawed, and broken. [Insert Castiel's speech from 15.18 here]. So can Sam. So can Cas. None of them are manipulating each other by virtue of getting angry, feeling hurt, being traumatized, needing space, or having differing opinions or feelings. Sam didn’t punch Dean in the face in 14.12 because he's a cruel, manipulative abuser trying to force Dean under his thumb. He didn’t work behind Dean’s back with Ruby, insist on doing The Trials, beg Dean to use Doc Benton’s alchemy, use the Book of the Damned to cure Dean, pump him full of blood to cure him of being a demon despite the fact that it might kill him, or scream at him and fight him for wanting to get in the Ma’lak box because he “doesn’t respect his autonomy” and “wants to control him” and “doesn’t respect his right to his own body”. He did it because he loves him desperately, and Dean could stand to fucking hate himself less, and he fiercely wanted Dean to live even when Dean didn’t want to or couldn’t picture what that could be like. He didn’t force Dean to do anything simply by opening his mouth to voice disagreement and swaying Dean when he did so. Now reverse that. 

Cas didn't beat Dean into the ground in season 5 because he wanted to terrorize him into never going against Castiel ever again. He didn’t go behind his back dozens of times, sideline him, go MIA, all because he wanted to manipulate and control Dean and punish him. He didn’t throw sassy remarks at him to shatter his self-esteem. Now reverse that. 

*Breathes*

Anyway, fuck "X is abusive” interpretations. 

[rabidpotato]

I have Castlevania brain rot send help

Ho boy. I have FEELINGS.

Season 4 spoilers and (longwinded) Discourse(TM) below the cut

A happy ending? In MY Castlevanias? It’s more likely than you think. With as grimdark as the series has been I fully expected to have my heart torn out and shat on, so to get an actual satisfying happy ending was a whole lungful of fresh air. Gimme that sweet sweet rush of Everybody Lives Nobody Dies, I need that shit pumped straight into my poor serotonin-starved brain.

What a hell of a season. There was enough material there for at least two seasons (and I would have LOVED to have two seasons, but that’s just because I’m greedy and want more…) and I was skeptical that they could even try to wrap up all those threads..and then they DID IT. Hot damn.

Hot Takes:

In this house we stan Greta and will tolerate no disrespect against our sword-and-hammer wielding queen. I love her, and I love her and Alucard’s dynamic with the deliberate parallels to Dracula and Lisa. I think she’s good for him.

TREVOR AND SYPHA UGH I JUST LOVE THEM SO MUCH I’m out here crying ugly tears at how much this stinky himbo and tiny nuke love each other ;______; Battle Couple OTP.

I would watch the shit out of an entire season of everybody building the new village and Trevor and Sypha learning how to be parents and Alucard and Greta getting closer and everybody just being HAPPY. This is because I am trash, not because there would actually be any storytelling value in such a thing. Same thing with onscreen kisses between Trevor and Sypha. Is it necessary? No. Doesn’t mean I don’t want it. But hey, that’s what fandom is for, right? I’ll just be over here drawing beetus-inducing fluff and being vaguely disgusted with myself.

Papa Trevor would be so soft. I think my ovaries just exploded.

I 100% expected Trevor to die and leave Sypha grieving and pregnant with the way they teased it in the trailer and the way it would have thematically fit with the rest of the series, and I am SO GLAD he didn’t. I’m tired of sad endings. I really love that he gets to be part of this world of people who know how to build things.

“I love you.” “I know.”

That single flash of Sypha’s face as he’s fading out knowing he’s going to die and being at peace with it, augh my fucking heart. T_T

Horse is secret MVP. That horse knows things.

Isaac confirmed for a) stand user and b) monster fucker. King out here living his best life, you love to see it.

But for reals tho, Isaac’s arc was one of my favorites. Nice fakeout with the conquest line in the trailer. The philosophical discussions on the nature of humans and night creatures, the way he comes to realize that he (and Hector, and by extension his own night creatures) is/are more than a tool to be used in the hands of others, the way he reclaims his own agency and decides he’s going to live...I fucking loved it. (Also paves the way for post-series forgehusbands…)

SO FUCKING HAPPY FOR STRIGA AND MORANA. I was holding my breath expecting them to get horribly killed the entire time and then they just...weren’t. The hot vampire wives got to literally ride off into the sunset (sunrise?) together, in a way that made sense. The General and the Organizer looked at the data on the ground, discussed, and made the calculated decision to stick with what really matters to them, not just Carmilla’s ambitions. More of this, please! Would have loved to see Striga fight more than once, though. Also I would shank a man for Morana’s cape.

Respect for Carmilla for going out on her own terms, even if it did feel a little heavy-handed. The cinematography of her and Isaac’s fight sure as hell made up for it though- that was one of the prettiest fights of the series.

Reunited trio’s fight was the other prettiest fight of the series. Holy fuck, what gorgeous animation.

I actually liked that St Germain’s lady friend never spoke- it reinforced the way that he has mythologized her to the point where she’s not even a person, just an ideal. It was also exactly what he deserved that she turned her back on him in the end. She’s just not that into you, bro.

Varney is a hoot. A greasy, flea-infested slimy hoot. Nice twist, too. Death’s design is *chef kiss*

Loved the themes of moving on and rebuilding and change and how there’s a pretty clear split between the people who are able to adapt and change (and live), and those “relics of the old world” who can’t or won’t. Ratko was criminally underused in this respect. I think there just wasn’t enough time.

Quibbles:

Pacing. I know Castlevania is notorious for uneven pacing, but in this case I think this is on Netflix- they should have been given a full two seasons to wrap this up, just to give things a chance to breathe. As it was, though, I think the writers did the best possible job given the constraints they were under.

Zamfir should have lived to learn the lesson about caring for the people who are still alive, and been the one to take charge of rebuilding Targoviste for the living. Having her die was straight-up pointless in a predictable way.

Did Trevor just straight-up forget he has TWO weapons with range when fighting Ratko? You have like a 30 foot reach what are you doing bro

Lenore is Problematic, and I wish there had been more tension between her and Hector. Like, I know Stockholm Syndrome is a thing, but he’s weirdly chill with her in a way that glosses over just what she did to him. Also I would have liked to see more self-awareness of “Oh, being a pet in a cage really is shitty, no matter how nice the cage. Now I know why what I did to you was wrong” before she dips. Her ending sure was poetic, though.

Wasn’t Trevor’s left arm broken in that last fight? How the heck is he even able to use it at the end? Also damn dude it’s been two weeks you should probably at least have washed those gaping wounds by now. Do you want sepsis? Because that’s how you get sepsis.

Unpopular Opinions:

Look I love Dracula/Lisa as much as the next shipper but “Hey we’re alive again for some reason!!” was totally out of left field. It felt like something out of a fix-it fic and it was just kinda baffling and jarring. Also go see your fucking kid, jfc you two are terrible parents.

Is Lisa just...kinda fine with the fact that Dracula tried to commit genocide in her name and almost killed their son? That must have been an awkward conversation.

I’m actually cool with Alucard spilling his life story to Greta on the march. He’s starving for human interaction, who’s to say he wouldn’t just want to TALK about what he’s been through? It’s treated in a way that’s a bit flippant for my taste, but we’ve seen enough of his trauma onscreen. I want to focus on his healing.

I’m hesitant to kick this particular hornet’s nest, but I really don’t think the ot3 has to be sexual? If it is, it damn well be an ot4 polycule with Greta. I see them more as two couples that are close friends and found family. But that’s the great thing about fandom! Rock on, shippers of all flavors, there’s room enough for everybody.

In Conclusion (jesus fuck how much did I write)

Castlevania pretty

Have you seen my braincell I think I misplaced it

Moar plz

[everything-laito]

the FBI agent looking at my computer must be so incredibly concerned. Here’s Laito and Cordelia analysis, Part II

Hiya, Corn here! This is Part II of this analysis series! Part one’s here! 

Not getting into the trauma part of it yet. Just explaining abusive power dynamics and how incestuous relationships work. As well as Stockholm syndrome. Lovely! Lovely combo! Fuck!!!

Same trigger warnings as last time still apply!

As always, rant under the cuuuuut!

Ok, from last time, we’ve established the elements that were set in place for Cordelia to do this to Laito, when Laito’s trauma began, and the possible fact that he was groomed as a child for sexual exploitation. Wow. Yay. Amazing. This is so gross!!! Thanks, I hate it!!!! I know I usually cary these topics with just an informational tone but I just can’t with this ;lskfjklsajf But I’m here typing this, you’re here reading this, so let’s just get on with the grossness!

Section 3: Legal Definitions of Incest and Power Dynamics 

Now we’re gonna get into the flesh of the problem, and what we know happened. From last time, and common DL knowledge, Laito was coerced into having sex with Cordelia. I say coerced, rather than forced, because it’s not like Laito seemed to resist it. He seems to “willingly” give Cordelia that. Is dubious consent, consent? Oh fuck no, and dubious or coerced consent shouldn’t even count in here considering it’s straight up incest. Any type of incest, most especially between a parent and a child, is not considered consensual, even if it “technically is.” That’s how it’s handled in a court of law, at least in America (where I’m from and reside in), and I do agree with that morally as well. A “romantic” and sexual relationship between a parent (or adult family member; aunt, grandfather, etc) and a child (is just gross) preys upon the power dynamic between them. This isn’t any consensual BDSM power dynamic (obviously), or a constructive power dynamic in the workplace; it’s just a power dynamic already instilled into the relationship where it is taken advantage of. That’s not just fucked up incest, that’s an example of a toxic relationship from the get go. Also, there’s a power dynamic usually between a parent and child, but that doesn’t mean it’s always toxic. It just needs to be done responsibly, which good parents (or any adult in power) know how to maneuver around it and not take advantage of it for manipulation etc. 

In healthy relationships, you both start on equal ground. It usually never works out if you don’t see the other as an equal, whether you have a predisposed power dynamic at the beginning or not. I’m talking any relationship; family relationships, friendships, romantic, sexual, etc. Although you older folks might know about BDSM and how there’s a “power dynamic” instilled in the relationship, a chosen and consensual “power dynamic” still involves both parties seeing the other one as an equal––intrinsically. It’s just very different than a predisposed power dynamic. That even goes with friendship too! Or any kind of healthy, nontoxic social interaction! Taken directly from Psychology Today, “Shared power creates happy individuals and satisfying interactions.” People need to be on equal ground in order to have a healthy relationship. Which,,,, we know does not happen with Cordelia and Laito (and Laito and Yui for that matter, but that’s during another part of this series). An article I saw during the research of this explains further about how power dynamics can be constructive. This focuses more on the workplace, but it applies to this because it’s looking at the other person as another person (an equal) but uses that predisposed power for encouragement, empowerment, and constructiveness (like a good parent or adult role model would do). I hope this makes sense!

Basically Cordelia is abusing her power in order to do all this to Laito. That’s why grooming would make a lot of sense in this as well, because we know it’s definitely not the first time Cordelia has taken advantage of a power imbalance to her own selfish benefit. That’s why incest isn’t really explained with the same science as pedophilia. I forget if I’ve mentioned it before, but one way pedophilia can occur in a person if their brain was originally biologically wired in a way that sees children as sexual objects. With incest, it could also work like that as well, but it is mainly power abuse, like most sexual exploitation, harassment, assault, etc is. 

Section 4: Incest (I’d make a sweet home Alabama joke but that’s low hanging fruit)

Ok so now that we’ve gone over the legality of incest, and how power dynamics can be taken advantage of, we’re gonna look into the type of incest (yes apparently there are types) that Cordelia and Laito fits into. Also if this already wasn’t clear or anything, hi incest and pedophilia etc are forms of abuse, there is no justifying it at all. It’s abuse, no matter what’s said. I know these are fictional characters but I sometimes see Ayato x Cordelia and Laito x Cordelia etc posts and I kinda just wanna commit heinous crimes whenever I see that. Just the idea of that absolutely sickens me (on top of the abuse shown in DL already). Anyways, after all of that out of the way, let’s go into this. 

Since Laito is biologically 17, I’d say that he’s considered as a child (teenager) by demon world standards. We don’t know his age when Cordelia first physically exploited him, but we do know that his same “teenage” sprite is used during the flashbacks. Since his trauma fits so well with the aftermath definition of parent/child incest, I’m just gonna give y’all information on that. This is also called “child incestuous abuse,” which is also a form of child sexual abuse. 

I learned an interesting factoid researching this, and that is in Japan, the most commonly believed incestuous relationship was between mothers and sons. In the West, we think of fathers/daughters. In Japan, the media covers more on mother/son incestuous acts; while statistically, more father/daughter incestuous acts are taken place. Just something interesting(?) I found, and probably why DL chose that for storytelling too. 

In this Wikipedia article, taken from a scientific paper (I’d take it directly from the source but you need an account to get in and I think you need to pay for it), it says this:

A study of victims of father–daughter incest in the 1970s showed that there were "common features" within families before the occurrence of incest: estrangement between the mother and the daughter, extreme paternal dominance, and reassignment of some of the mother's traditional major family responsibility to the daughter.

Sure, this talks about father/daughter incestuous relationships, but if we take this and reverse most of the roles, it shows Laito’s situation to a T:

Estrangement between Karlheinz and Laito 

Extreme maternal dominance (aka Cordelia being very abusive/manipulative)

Reassignment of some of the parental responsibility to Laito (there’s many examples of “big bro Laito,” and Ayato and Kanato considers that they used Laito as a “sacrifice”––as a “shield” for the both of them. Sure this isn’t explicit parental responsibility shown through Laito but I’d say he acts more like a family member to Ayato and Kanato too)

Section 5: Stockholm syndrome? With parental figures? 

Laito had some interesting situations occur during this whole thing with Cordelia. One of the most infamous scenes from the game (that’s also illustrated in the HDB manga) is a flashback Laito has where he’s locked up, forced to see Cordelia and Richter have sex. He’s appalled by the fact at first, but then attempts to convince himself that he’s into it. However, I won’t get into the effects until the next part. 

I didn’t find much about Stockholm syndrome being in this specific case with incest and kidnapping a child etc. When you look up Stockholm syndrome related to parents you get quite the sexist “article” that definitely mocks the whole Stockholm syndrome thing and makes fun of guys being into Glee and such,,,, so that wasn’t a very helpful article. However, I’m just gonna mish mash and put a lot of concepts that we’ve learned together. But first, a look into Stockholm syndrome.

Stockholm syndrome occurs when an abuse victim develops empathy or even intimate feelings for their abuser or captor. This happens because any bit of kindness the abuser enacts towards their victim is taken so positively, that the victim “forgets” all the negative actions, and focuses on the positive ones. This isn’t some sort of “oh ya gotta think positive!” kind of thing, it’s how abusers get away with their bullshit and how someone can be so trapped in a relationship with them. It’s also called traumatic bonding or victim brainwashing (source). This doesn’t always happen with people who are held hostage, like in Stockholm syndrome’s name origin.

A parent’s influence can be a strong one. Doesn’t even have to be related to by blood. But a figure that is supposed to be nurturing—whether they are or not—still has power over the “child.” He definitely went through Stockholm Syndrome himself with Cordelia, considering the grooming and the “love”/hate relationship he has with Cordelia. I did some more digging, and apparently Stockholm Syndrome can still occur more commonly with sexually abused victims. Which we all know he is. With the possible grooming, on top of the power abuse and sexual abuse, creates an incredibly toxic concoction. Here we go. The (rotten) cherry on top. Directly from my HDB notes, here’s a snippet from his Maniac Prologue: 

Cordelia: Nnn…Hey, Laito. You are a good boy. Laito: …!! Cordelia: Right, Laito? Laito: Yeah, that’s right. I’m…I’m a good boy after all.  ーー Besides, I’m the type of person who only get more aroused from this kind of thing.

(from my notes:) Basically Laito convinces himself to be a “cuckhold.” It’s definitely implied how he just wants approval from Cordelia; this is how this abuse prolongs. 

(Also, if I ever said that Laito was locked up by Cordelia, my bad; it was Karlheinz who gave that order. I’m unsure where I ever said this, but I feel like I said it before, so I’m gonna clarify that right now too, oops! My memory hath failed me.)

Cordelia’s praise effects Laito in such a visceral way that he tries so hard to cope with the trauma in her favor. It’s incredibly messed up. But that’s the defining factor in this. From this, I do believe Laito has Stockholm syndrome on top of all of his issues. 

I think I’m gonna end it here for now. Didn’t expect to be this long, oops. Stay tuned for next time, where I’m gonna go over Laito’s trauma and how he’s been effected by it. Thanks for reading, FBI agent! And oh, you as well, dear reader! 

If you’ve read this far holy fuck I commend you -Corn

[tahitianmangoes]

TM’s Masterlist

I finally made a masterlist! I hope it’s helpful and I’ll do my best to keep it updated. Please be sure to read tags/warnings etc wherever possible!

• Pairings which are in bold are the main pairings of the fic if there are multiple pairings • Reader is always gender neutral unless stated otherwise.

All fics (other than headcanons) can also be found on my Ao3 if you prefer to read there.

Chaptered fics

Look On My Works - Complete  Arthur x Edmund Lowry Jr | NSFW | Kidnapping| Stalking| Murder| Drug Abuse | Stockholm Syndrome | Non Canon Compliant

To Be Dominated - WIP Arthur x Unnamed Master | NSFW | BDSM| Dom/sub dynamics | Master/pet dynamics

All I Have - Complete Dutch x Arthur, past!Dutch x Hosea | NSFW | Non-con | Dark fic | Angst | Character Death

The Beast In Me - Complete Arthur x reader, John x Abigail, Kieran x Mary-Beth | SFW | Werewolf AU | mild horror

Absolution- WIP Micah x Arthur | NSFW | Pining | Enemies to Lovers | Hurt/Angst

Oneshots

NSFW

Bark Like a Dog F!Reader x Dutch | NSFW | Pegging

Voyeur Dutch x Reader | NSFW | Daddy kink | Brat | Mafia AU

You’re Everything a Big Bad Wolf Could Want Dutch x F!Reader | |NSFW| Incubus/demon AU

Snow Falls Charles x Arthur | NSFW 

Rope Burns Charles x Arthur | NSFW | Rope Bondage

Won't You Be My Pet? Arthur x Dutch | NSFW | Spanking | Daddy Kink | Master - Pet

The Puppet Master Arthur x Dutch x John | NSFW | Threesome

Butterflies and Hurricanes F!Reader x Dutch x Arthur | NSFW | Daddy kink, |squirting |threesome |praise kink

We All Like a Bad Boy, Don’t We? (Not A Fucking Outlaw Though, Chris) F!Reader x Micah | NSFW

If you can't do the time, don't do the crime Arthur x Dutch x Charles | NSFW | Threesome | Praise Kink

Beg Me Micah x Arthur| NSFW | Hate-fuck

A Moment to Recuperate Dutch x Arthur | NSFW | Piss Kink | Desperation |

SFW

A Bullet with Your Name on it Micah x Dutch| SFW | Past relationships

Lilac Dutch x Hosea | SFW | 

Mending Clothes Reader x Charles| SFW

I Suppose Not Arthur x Albert | SFW | Drabble

Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark No pairing | SFW | drabble/ficlet

Hard to Say Charles x Arthur | SFW | Fluff |

Sanctuary Dutch x Reader | SFW | Hurt/Comfort

The Sisters Grimshaw Dutch x Susan | SFW | Family Dynamics 

Headcanons

Put Him on His Knees, Give Him Something to Believe in Reader x The VDL Boys | Oral Sex | NSFW

Sad Reader Headcanons Reader x Arthur / Reader x Dutch / Reader x Hosea | SFW

Sub!Charles Headcanon Reader x Charles | NSFW | Light BDSM

Choking Headcanon F!Reader x Dutch / F! Reader x Arthur/ F! Reader x Javier / F! Reader x Charles | NSFW | Choking

Beginning of Relationship Headcanons Javier x Charles | NSFW | Sex

Pent Up Arthur Reader x Arthur | NSFW | Oral 

Smut Headcanons Arthur x Reader/Charles x Reader/ Javier x Reader | NSFW | Spanking, sex, oral

Requests

Tying Dutch up after Bronte's party Reader x Dutch | NSFW(ish) | Master/sub, light BDSM

Daddy Dutch Reader x Dutch | NSFW | Daddy kink| Master/sub

Dutch and Hosea teaching young Arthur to read and shoot No Pairing | SFW

Charles teaching f!reader to hunt (but she already knows how!) F!Reader x Charles | NSFW | Oral

I Know Who You Are Arthur x Trelawny | SFW | Angst

Charles Comforting Reader Reader x Charles | SFW | Comfort

Giveaways

Ferryboat F!Reader x Micah | NSFW

Stay By My Side Charles x Javier | SFW | Hurt/Comfort

He's A Little Tied Up Right Now... F!Reader x Dutch| NSFW | Gunplay| Oral sex

OC Content

The Story of Clementine Quinn Graphic Violence | Sad

How Clementine Got Her Name SFW | Sad 

Curiosity Killed the Cat Clementine x Micah | NFSW(ish) 

Alien SFW | Loneliness

Our Time Out East Clementine + Black Belle | SFW

When George Met Clementine Clementine x George | SFW

For more OC content, check out the tag

[spnfanficpond]

April Angel Fish Awards

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words.

The monthly Angel Fish Awards are peer-nominated, meaning ANYONE IN THE POND CAN NOMINATE ANY POND MEMBER’S FIC. While the Pond was founded to support the Guppies, everyone in this community deserves to be showered with love and feedback, and we hope that by opening this up as a Pond wide system, we’ll be able to share the love as far as it can go.

NOTE: WE’VE BEEN HAVING OCCASIONAL PROBLEMS WITH ASKS GOING MISSING. Please use the Submit button when submitting your nominations and make sure you’re signed into Tumblr or your URL won’t show. (If the form asks for your name and email address, then you’re not signed in.) If you like, you can also send a message to Michelle or Mana to check and make sure we got your submission.

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, HERE ARE APRIL’S ANGEL FISH AWARDS!

Nominated by @kittenofdoomage

Known by @stusbunker 

I haven’t finished reading it yet but it’s a really unique story, very dark and gritty. It’s brilliant so far and I can’t wait to read the rest. I’m not usually one to read OC’s either but the mix of OC and reader is so well done… anyway, I love it lol

As I Live and Breathe by @katehuntington 

This is an awesome Dean x reader. Her writing style is really good, she’s got so much potential, everyone should check out her masterlist.

Nominated by @slytherkins 

Hell and Apathy by @risingphoenix761 

Oh. My. Glob. I do not even have words to adequately describe how much I love this fic. It’s like dying and going to fanfic heaven. This. This is what they would serve there. It’s so well written. So in character. For something so short, it’s breathtakingly dark and angsty. There is instant mood. BAM. MOOD. It’s the perfect length, too. It could have easily been overdone or underdone, but it is just right. It brings up all the right questions. It. Is. Hawt. Like, not a little bit. Like, all the way. It is surface-of-the-sun scorching.  This fic…this fic is perfection. 

St. Fergus by @risingphoenix761 

This fix-it fic is amazeballs. Part crack, part existential reflection. There be banter, and it’s all marvelously In Character.  (Pre-s14 finale In Character, that is. *shakes fist at Chuck*) It’s funny. It’s heartwarming. It better have a sequel or I’m going to die.

Nominated by @mrswhozeewhatsis 

His Princess (series) by @georgialouisea

At first, I thought I’d like this just because I do love a good royal AU, but in the most recent part, the story took a turn that I truly wasn’t expecting!! I always love me some protective Winchesters, and bodyguard!Dean is wonderful, but this story has a few extra elements to it that I can’t help but wonder if they’re going to play into the story. I can’t wait to find out!!

Sweet Reunion by @wi-deangirl77 

This is the part of the 300th episode that the Show forgot to show us. What exactly did John and Mary get up to while the boys were in town picking up groceries and discovering TEDTalk!Sam was a thing? Heh heh heh. You know. *wink*Wink*nudge*nudge* This is sweet and romantic without getting NSFW and it gave me all the John and Mary feels!!!

House of the Rising Sun (series) by @kittenofdoomage 

I mean, of course, everything Rhi writes is fabulous, and her smut is top shelf, but this series is making me ask questions about Stockholm Syndrome and consent and other issues presented in this story. There’s a million directions this story could go and I can’t wait to see which one Rhi picks!!

Bed of Roses (series) by @crispychrissy 

This is a mobster AU where the first thing Dean does is torture our heroine for information. The second thing he does is fall for her. Things just go downhill from there, with twists and turns you might not expect. I can’t wait to find out if she can ever get past everything and love Dean! I literally grin every time I see an update!

Control and Release (series) by @thecleverdame 

HOLY HOTNESS, BATMAN!! TEDTalk!Sam has some control issues and likes to exert most of them over the reader. In public. I don’t know if this will ever take a turn for the soft and romantic, but even if it doesn’t, this story is STEAMING!!

Dear Dean (series) by @purpleskiesandcherrypies 

I wasn’t sure if I could really get into a WWII AU since I’m not much of a history buff, then I read the first chapter and nearly busted! Jamie Blum, only sister in a family of brothers, parents long since dead, decides to follow her brothers when they all go off to war. But instead of becoming a nurse, she cuts off her hair, puts on her brother’s clothes, and goes to fight under the command of Lt. Dean Winchester. POV switches between the two, AND I LOVE IT. This is a must read!!

Splintered Flames, Burning Dreamer by @thedevilinthedetails 

Part 1 of this is your typical ABO fuck-or-die scenario, with a good amount of angst layered into it. Part 2, however, takes that angst, multiplies it, and stabs you right in the heart with it. Then, just when you think you’re done, it rips your heart right out and stomps on it. A lot. SO GOOD!!!!

Nominated by @thelittleredwhocould 

Crazy Love by @saxxxology

This series is hot AF. Saxxy fucking killed it. Plus, as someone who’s part-Native American, this fic is extra awesome to me.

Take the Edge Off by @saxxxology 

For all your TED!Sam needs. Delicious.

Bitten (series) by @saxxxology 

I haven’t seen many monster!Winchester fics and this is one of my favs. I absolutely love the spin Saxxy puts on A/B/O in this verse. Plus, smut. Sexy sexy smut.

Faith and Amazing Grace by @mrswhozeewhatsis 

I absolutely love this revisiting of a s1 episode. So angsty. So good.

I Know Your Wife (She Wouldn’t Mind) (series) by @teamfreewill-imagine 

This is a fic that will never get old, imo. I don’t read RPF (like, ever), but Jamie has created such beautiful dynamics between all the characters and this fic gives me life.

Forever by @bamby0304 

Feelings. Aaaaaaallllll the feeliings. So many feelings. I might have cried a little.

Her Saviours (series) by @bamby0304 

I am adoring this rewrite. The relationships between the reader and the boys are such a mess, and watching them work through familiar cases together is so much fun. The very sexy sex is a nice bonus ;D

Spanner in the Works (series) by @bamby0304 

This is probably one of my favorite series I’ve read so far this year. This is also the fic that first really introduced me to Amber’s writing and I can’t wait to see how it goes.

Nominated by @manawhaat

We Kill and We Fuck (oneshot) by @jayankles

Well, fuck me! I am a sucker for serial killer kink, through and through, and this fun twist of A/B/O, AND Alpha Ruby with the two of them... hot damn!

 I Have A Dream (oneshot) by @idreamofplaid

It’s so fluffy!!! I absolutely love tattoo artist Jared, love the tattoos you described on his body, love the sea shells and that he does it on you in the comfort of your own place. It’s soft and warm and ugh, just so Jared. 

Thank you all for the awesome work and great feedback!

As with the BFAs, these are not actual awards! This system is set up so everyone in the pond has a chance to share the love and promote a fic/author that has grabbed your attention. The more people that participate, and the more everyone remembers to submit their own fics after posting, the better this will be :D

THANK YOU ALL AGAIN, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!

[be-the-sammy-to-my-dean-blog]

A city of wind

Title: A city of wind

Ship: Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Mentions of rape/non-con, graphic sexual scenes, mild bondage, dom/sub dynamics, stockholm syndrome, physical abuse, graphic injuries, mentions eating disorders

Tags: dom/sub dynamics, ownership, strange sex positions

Summary: Sam meets Dean the powerful Mafia boss of Chicago.

Word Count: 4682

Created for: @spnkinkbingo and the Wincest Writing Challenge round 19

My partner was: @soaringthroughthesky

Prompt: Unusual Sex Positions/Threesome

Dean is a powerful mafia boss. Everyone in the city of Chicago fears him. He has been looking for a toy to keep at home. Someone for him to spoil and take care of. He sent out 2 of his men to find him a man with specific qualities. He wanted a tall man with dark hair and light eyes, younger than him, to be submissive... so submissive. They think they found one, Sam Wesson. Deans pov I looked down at the picture on my desk, he was what I wanted. Tall, thin, pretty, gay, comes from a fucked up life, never had more than 10 bucks to his name, and his job is a security guard for a jewelry store that sells fake diamonds. I should know, after a simple task of killing the owner's wife I wanted to be paid in diamonds. What I got were cheap crystals. Let's just say I let him off easy. I looked up at the two men in the room, and when I met their gaze, they looked down with respect. "Boys, berry, and Ryan. Please go get sam Wesson, don't scare the kid he will need to be drugged, and no harm should come to him if he shows up with so much as a scratch you both will be punished." They nodded in unison and Ryan spoke slowly. "What drug can we use?" I rolled my eyes and kinda laughed. "Just a mild sedative." Both men left, and I sat behind my desk and began to wait for my boy to show up. ~~~~~~~~~~~~time skip 4 hours~~~~~~~~~~~ I hear shuffling and then the sound of my office door opening. And then my boy was dumped onto the floor obviously unconscious. I looked down happily and then up to my men. "Fantastic job boys. The man at the steakhouse owes me one go get yourself a nice dinner." They both smiled and said a quick thank you and left. I looked at the man on the floor. And walked over to him and picked him up. He was surprisingly light. I walked him out of the office and into my bedroom. I laid him on the bed and pulled off his shirt and jeans. He was fat to skinny, his ribs showed, and he looked too pale. He was very poor before this. I dressed him in one of my shirts and then one of my sweats to make sure he was comfortable.he shifted in his sleep on cuddled up to a pillow and moaned and smiled smelling it. I stripped out of my silk suit and laid down next him and wrapped my arms around him. This is what I want. He snuggled into my arms and chest, and I smiled and leaned down and kissed the top of his head before drifting off to sleep myself. I woke up around 3 am and looked down to see my boy still fast asleep, the dose of sedative was small, but due to him being extremely underweight it probably packed more of a punch. I tried to move out of his grasp but a loud whimper escaped his mouth as he tried to cling to me, I watched as his eyes slowly opened and he groaned. He looked around the large, dark bedroom suddenly becoming panicked. He stood up but fell to the floor and pushed himself into a corner. He looked up at met my gaze. "Y-you're Mr.s-s-smith... I'm really sorry sir for whatever I did, I-i amp-poor I have nothing you would we want." He said as his eyes welled up. And his stomach growled. I sighed knowing this was going to happen. "Sam, my name is dean. I know what you have probably heard about me, and I want you to know all the murders, the robberies, the gangs in Chicago are all controlled by me. I'm not mad at you or want anything from you. I've had my men watch you for a while. I learned about you, you live off of food stamps, but they forgot to give you more, you live in a shitty little apartment that the rent is 5 months overdue, you obviously don't have enough money to eat, and you're gay, and your whole family is dead. I also learned that you really like me, Sammy, baby boy, I think you're the prettiest boy ever, and I want you to be mine. With me, you will never go hungry again never have to work again, say you're my boy, and anything you want is yours. I know it's a lot to take in and you may have your own room if you like but-" I was cut off by him practically throwing himself into my arms and clinging to me. He let out a loud sob, and I held him tight. He had failed to notice the 4 guards in my room that started above us not caring about what was happening. I looked up at one and spoke softly to not disturb Sam. "Get the chef to make my boy some food, call the doctor on the oak street he needs medication, and get someone to his apartment to get all of his things out." The guard nodded and walked out of my room ready to take care of everything. "Mr.s-Smith I'm s-sorry I am not respectful. I-I have an anxiety c-condition a-and I ran out of my m-medication a-and I need someone to hold onto r-right n-now." I pulled him up into my chest and smoothed his ruffled hair as he let go and just cried utterly overwhelmed. "Sam you're my boy now okay? I'm going to take good care of you. I want you to tell me when something is wrong and let it out, I'm going to spoil you and make sure you're well fed. And no more Mr. Smith. You can call me whatever you want baby boy, whatever you want." He nodded his head and sniffled as he calmed himself down. "Dean... c-can I call you d-daddy?" I felt my heart swell and knew this is what he wanted. "Sure thing baby boy, sure thing." He looked up when I said yes and smiled a small, lopsided smile. The chef knocked on the door and walked in carrying a tray of bacon, eggs, French toast, and syrup. Sam slowly pulled away from me and sat back up on my bed. I took the plate of food and waved the chef off. I walked the tray over to Sam and sat it down next to him, and his eyes widened in surprise. "I....I-is this a-all form-me?" He asked as his voice shook. I nodded and smiled once he began to eat quickly. Obviously starved. He finished everything in the tray and leaned back on the bed sighing happily. He yawned and crawled over to me and curled up in my lap. This boy is my life now. He soon fell asleep, and I called the doctor in who did some necessary tests. He told me he suffers from other mental illness he handed me his file and left me with his anxiety medication and some mild sleeping pills. I read through the file slowly and kept him sleeping in my arms. 4 failed suicide attempts. Self-harm scars on thighs wrists and stomach. Recovered anorexic. Co-dependent disorder. Separation anxiety. Severe trust issues. My poor baby boy. I thought to myself as he cuddled my chest. I laid down again and pulled the blankets up around us and held him close to my body as he slept.  He is so broken. But he seems to be warming up to me. This will be good; however, tomorrow I have to go kill a guy. It's personal. He beat my new boy up in an alley just 3 days ago. Pretty bad too, my boy didn't even fight back he just took it. He groaned in his sleep and pulled himself further into my arms. I protectively held him and fell back to sleep. When I woke up, it was because my boy was trying to quietly slip out of bed. I looked at him, and he looked at me. "What's wrong baby boy? Do you need something?" He shook his head and looked down at his feet. "W-where is the b-bathroom?" He said while his face turned a bright red. I chuckled and stood and kissed his cheek. I showed him the door, and he thanked me walked in and then walking back out 4 minutes later. He shuffled over to me and kissed my cheek. "Thank you, dean." I smiled and ran a hand through this hair. "No problem baby." I pulled him into a hug but abruptly stopped when he meat out a scream of pain.  I let go and looked at him. His eyes filled with tears again. I gingerly pulled him into a hug and heard one of my guards leave again to fetch a doctor. I slowly peeled his shirt off and gasped at the sight of black and blue ribs. I ran my fingers over the marks, and I grimaced when I felt broken ribs. "Who did this to you." I said my voice deadly and cold. "I ummm, ummm d-dean I-I'm sorry." I pulled my hands away from his body and looked directly into his eyes. "Who. Did. This." His eyes watered more. "M-my ex b-boyfriend. I-I'm sorry." I chuckled a deep laugh. He was going to die. "What is his name baby." I said a statement, not a question. "R-Ross." I ran the pass of my fingers over his ribs again and felt the breaks in his bones. "Why did he do this to you baby?" I asked my voice comforting and assertive. "H-he umm he s-said that I wasn't g-good enough and he d-drugged me, and I barely remember him stomping on m-my ribs." "Okay baby okay, I would never do anything like that to you. I have some anxiety medicine for you, and the doctor is coming to patch you up, and we will get you some pain medicine too. Does that sound good?" He nodded helplessly, and I picked him up. Walking him to my bed and placing him on the thick dark red blanket. He sprawled himself across the bed and groaned trying to find a comfortable position. The doctor walked back into the barely lit room. He now carried a black briefcase presumably full of drugs and other prescriptions. Sam was in a space between sleep and wakefulness. I pulled the doctor aside. "No sedatives, just do what you need to do with his ribs and a mild painkiller would be nice." I spoke my voice void of any emotion. A voice I would never use on sam. He walked to Sam and gently spoke directions at him. Sam obliged quickly and obediently. He sat up wincing as he did so and then pulled his shirt completely off. His beautiful body exposed. His chest was littered with small circular scars that resembled a cigarette, and now his perfect ribs covered in an ugly black and blue bruise. The doctor felt his ribs with gentle hands and then walked back to me. "I'm going to tape his ribs. Make sure he gets plenty of rest and takes these painkillers. Now he can take them on an empty stomach, and he has to take them 2 times a day. He will make a full recovery Mr.smith." I nodded not allowing any of my relief show on my face. Instead, I walked over to Sam and sat on the bed near him. "Hey baby, this doctor is going to tape your ribs up okay? It's going to hurt a little, but I'll be right here." I spoke in a soft voice. Sam nodded and reached out a tentative hand. "Hold my hand?" I pulled his hand to my face and kissed his knuckles. The doctor was fast and productive with his work. Sam squeezed my hand through the whole time. The doctor left in haste and Sam sighed. I pulled the drapes apart to let the early light through the window. The room now lit up made Sam shiver, and I could see why. The walls were a deep red that matched the bed sheets. On one wall a picture of my mother hung, and on the other, an armada of weapons stood on display, my personal favorites were there. Then on the wall with a window picture after picture of people who have helped me stood, proud. A constant reminder that I got here with help. Sam's eyes darted to the four guards. Each easily over 6 2' and easily over two hundred pounds. They all wore the usual expressionless faces. They all had open carry pistols on thigh holsters, and each was holding a rifle in their hands. All were dressed in black suits as well. It was quite a scene. Sam squeaked and whimpered at the sight of it all. I waved my hand in the direction of the guards, and they all left. Each leaving through the white French doors with gold handles. They all stood on the other side ready for an intruder. Sam I looked around the now empty room. I now got to look at Dean, I don't remember much of last night only that I had been taken from my cold apartment and dropped into the waiting arms of a handsome man. I'm not sure what I'd said, however, all I know is that I was being held by dean. I looked at him now, green eyes and pretty freckles. He kept an alpha like stance. Did I mention I was not only dirt fucking poor but also flaming gay? Yeah, that too. I can take a lot I've been raped around 7 times within the past few months. All men. Dean didn't seem like he would do that though. I hadn't noticed the tears that streaked down my face until dean was wiping the tears off my face with the pads of his fingers. "Shhh, Sam," Dean said while pulling my head to his chest and petting my hair and massaging the scalp. My anxiety was a bitch. It always made me feel like I was helpless. But right now I wanted to do was cling to the attractive alpha who was holding me. "Dean, dean I wanna talk," I said through the shake in my voice. He stopped hugging me and. Dropped to sit next to me on the bed. He slid an arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his lap. "Yes, baby?" He asked quietly in my ear. "Keep me safe," I said so low I was surprised he heard it. He suddenly jumped up, walking to stand in front of me and pulling his sleeve up to reveal a gold cuff with an M carved into it. "Anyone who is part of my family wears one of these. Anyone outside of my family knows not to touch anyone with these. When I'm with you-you are always safe. You're mine." I reached out and ran my fingers of the warm metal on his bicep. Freckles were even littered down to his elbow. It was a thick band with a lock on the back that I presumed dean had a key too. "I have one for you, with an M on it. Anyone who sees it knows you're a direct belonging to me. This way you can go anywhere, and none will hurt you. Ever." He spoke before clipping a gold band onto my arm and locking it with a key that was hung over his neck. "I'm yours now. Really. Owned. DeanI said while looking at the band. A possessive growl escaped dean. "My fucking boy. Fucking mine. No one else's." He said with a hiss. There is something oddly reassuring about someone being so possessive over you. He ran his fingers over my ribs once again, his face twisting in anger. "I have to tell you something Dean," I said while looking at the ground. "Yes," Dean said while placing a hand on my own clasped ones. "I've... I've been raped. 7 times in the last month. Alleyways, my apartment, and even my job. I tried to fight them off. I did alpha." I said while more tears streamed down my face. Dean stifled an angry yell but pushed his forehead against mine and nodded. Understanding me. "That doesn't change a thing sam, you're mine. What happened to you wasn't your fault, I want you here anyway. I need you here Sam." I nestled myself into his chest, not wanting to be anywhere else. I breathed in, he smelled like spices and whiskey and a scent of something that was sweet. Like perfume, but not, it was just him. I quickly realized that he was shirtless. His perfect abs and beautiful body pressed against my own gross one. How could he possibly be attracted to me? Ever. I'm boney, and he's muscled. He has a beautiful face and mine is sharp in all the wrong places. Yet he still holds me in his arms like I am everything. I rested my cheek against his muscles chest and sighed happily. "Sam" Dean spoke. "Dean," I responded in a half daze. "We need to go over rules while you will be living with me. There just here to keep you safe, and for you to feel protected. Not in any way for me to hurt you. Okay?" Dean mumbled while resting his chin on the top of my head. "What are they?" I asked while closing my eyes slightly. The warmth and safety I was feeling just by being in the presence of dean made me happily sleepy. My arms hung lazily around deans muscled middle and my leg as were splayed around his hips. My half hard length resting against his lower belly. And my head rested against his chest. Deans arms, however, were possessively wrapped around my bare back. "Okay baby. The first and most important rule is to tell me when you feel sad or upset, tell me how you feel when I ask baby boy. The second rule is to tell me when you want to go anywhere and if you want me to go with, and don't lie I wanna make you happy. The third rule is that you remain loyal to me, and only me and when you are ready we will mate, and you will become mine. Those are the only rules sweetheart." Dean spoke in a whiskey-smooth voice while running his fingers through my hair. "Yes dear," I spoke, "I will follow those rules." I settled into dean's arms when suddenly I felt a familiar pain in my lower stomach. Oh god, I guess that after months of being alone I wanted someone. Now. I wanted dean, I knew we wanted me too. I couldn't bring myself to care at this moment because of how safe I felt. But within moments the pain began to hit me like a truck. And I let a long pornographic moan slip from my lips. Dean responded immediately. Deans cock was high and hard within seconds, but he remained still not wanting to do anything until I let him. "Sam-omega..fucken hell. Do you want me to mate you? My gorgeous, beautiful boy." Dean moaned while aggressively nuzzling my hair. My mind was foggy now, just the mere scent of a dean gave me a high, and sitting on his rigid cock pushed me close to the edge. "Dean- I I need you. I want you deep inside me... please I need you, I need this." I said before another embarrassingly loud. Moan. Fuck I wanted him. I wanted him bad. "Sam... ugh sam. Do you really want this?" Dean struggled to faint eh composure to speak. "Yes. Fuck dean. Yes!" I moaned. And ground down on his lap. This feeling was overwhelming. I had never felt like this. Never felt pure want, never felt pure lust. I guess it was because of dean, anyone who saw the man would feel the same. "I have rules when it comes to fucking," Dean spoke while dragging a heavy hand over my thighs. "Yes. What?" I said impatiently while rubbing on his lap. "If you're okay with it. I love tying my bitches down. I love getting you down. To The point where you're mine. And that's it. Remember this area is safe, no one will do anything you don't want. This is all for you. For you to feel good. For you to feel better. I want you to feel fucking safe." Dean finished while rubbing my thighs. "Just get fucking started," I said while looking wantonly into dean's lap. Deans pov I let a growl escape my mouth as I pulled sam over to the next room. I held him bridal style and walked him to the equally large room. This room was my favorite. The room was a deep red similar to my bedroom. On the walls were elegant red curtains and maroon carpets, then there were the toys, the walls were lined with dildos of all sizes. Plastic, silicone, glass, crystal, and even some casts of my cock. Then there was the furniture. If you can even call it that. Cages, couches and a stretcher with leather straps on it. And my personal favorite the fucking bench. It was black leather with straps and had armrests in the front and knee pads as well. But seeing that Sam was pretty new to this, I'm going to keep it simple. But, I know this boy can bend, he's flexible, stunning and everything I've wanted in a bitch. He's hurt I know that, broken ribs and a broken mind. Which is why I've decided to neglect my toys and fun furniture. "Get over here," I said as Sam stood and looked around at the toys in awe. He trotted over to me and practically jumped into my open arms and wrapped his legs around my waist. I dropped him on the bed in the corner. Yes, I don't fuck on my bed, cuddling is fine but fucking a bitch on my bed just doesn't seem sanitary. I care about this one a lot. I want to keep him, and he's never going back to that dark ass hole he called a life. This bed was different, it was stirrups hanging from the ceiling that sam could put his feet into if he wanted. But today I'm thinking of gently stretching him. I want to have him in my lap, but his legs up in the stirrups and his face against my chest. Yeah, I got a bit of a kink for difficult positions. I pulled sams sweats off and his shirt off revealing his taped ribs and thin stature. I pulled my sleep pant off as well as my briefs. I looked at Sam who had the most dilated pupils I have ever seen. He looked at me the way a dog would look at a treat, the way a prisoner would look if he thought of freedom. He looked at me like he wanted me. "Off," I said while lightly tugging on his boxers. He eagerly pulled them off revealing his large leaking cock. He turned 6 shades of red when he saw me staring hungrily at his body. "What?" he said with a small giggle as he tried to use his hands to cover his dick. "you're stunning." I breathed out before grabbing sam and tossing him effortlessly onto the bed. I walked to him and stroked my dick with one hand while I did the same to him. He moaned gorgeously and spread his legs wider. I tugged the stirrups down from the ceiling and looked into sams still heavily lidded eyes. "You put your legs in here. And then you face me and hold onto my shoulders. Your safe word is Impala. Understand?" I instructed while he nodded eagerly. Sam put his feet in the stirrups and sat on my lap, I groaned at his weight on my already throbbing cock. His rested his head on my shoulder and held my shoulders like he had done this a million times. "You want me to prep you or do you want the pain?" I asked while nuzzling into his neck. "Pain," he responded while trying to move his hips on my lap. I moaned and pulled a condom onto my cock and slid in. He let out a hiss of pain, but it soon turned into a moan. His legs on either side of me high in the air with his arms wrapped tightly around me I almost burst looking at him all spread out like this for me. I was on my knees as I started to thrust slowly into his tight hot sex. I started slowly as Sam kept trying to move his legs. "Don't try to move your legs. That's the point of them." I said while looking at his stunning flushed face. I thrust in again deeper this time, and a long moan from sam filled the air. I moved back and groaned in ecstasy at the pure pleasure I was getting. The dark lights in the room complemented his stunning face and body. I moved again then again and began to get a rhythm. I moved back and forth bouncing on my knees. Sam gripped my shoulders harder and drew blood with his blunt nails causing a growl to fall from my lips. "So fucking hot Sam," I whispered into his ear as I continued to move in and out of his tight fluttering hole. "Faster. Faster dean. Fucking give it to me. I wanna feel full, I wanna be full of you, fuck me harder!" He cried out. That was one thing I did not expect from him, I knew he had a dark side but not a deep dark hot mouth like that. I obliged and began to move faster. In and out as his legs bumped up and down in the stirrups. His head pressed firmly against my chest. I continued to move and felt the pain in my lower stomach grow. I want to go to last. I reached in between our bodies and started to pull on his cock in long strokes, his eyes rolled back into his head. A long high pitched moan escaped him, and I did so, and this he clenched as he spurts long white ropes onto his own chest and mine. his hole fluttered as I thrust up and down with no rhythm now and felt him clench as hard as he could, I came hard. Harder than I ever have in my whole life. I saw stars as I moan and shoved my face further into his neck. I pulled out and removed his thin legs from the stirrups and smiled at how pretty he looked now, all fucked out and stunning. He laid on the bed with a smile on his face and his legs still spread wide. I pulled my condom off and painted into the now damp air. I picked his fragile body up[ off the bed. "Are you okay sam? Did I hurt you?" I asked mildly concerned I hurt him when I lost my control towards the end. "That's the best I've ever had." he laughed, and I smiled. "What'd you think about the stirrups?" I asked for a smalls mile. "Interesting, I think my knees are shot for the next few days though," he said with a smile while he pushed himself further into my chest. I chuckled lowly and held him tighter. "shower?" I asked. "Shower." Sam agreed -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- No one thought there could be a love story like Harley Quinn and joker in real life. That was until the city of Chicago met the boss' boy Sam. The most protected boy in the city. Deans pride and joy. His boy. Sam and Dean are the powerful mafia bosses of the city of Chicago. Everyone fears them. And no one dared mess with the baby of Dean Smith.

[ao3feed-crimeboys]

Beware The Forest (Its Darker Than You Know)

by Eighth_Wonder

“There's a story,” Jack started, splaying his hands out on the table in front of him. “That everyone that grows up in the town hears growing up. A story about what happened to the travelers that pass through here” Suddenly Tommy was much less interested in hearing Jack's story.

“They say, when a traveler takes the road out, they never arrive at their destination. Instead, the Boar of the Woods finds them. Legend says he stands 8 feet tall, with blood red hair and huge, sharp white tusks. He lures travelers out of the safety of their cars and chases them down through the woods, hunting them and wearing them down until they have to stop. Then he circles, and circles, watching the terror set into the travelers face before finally..'' Jack slammed on the table, making Everyone aside from Niki jump.

“He guts them and eats their insides!!” He yelled. Tommy stared with his eyes wide. Maybe he was just tired, but a pool of dread sat stubborn in his gut as he swallowed dryly. It wasn't even that scary of a story… Right?

Or

Tommy and Wilbur ignore every warning sign and go into the scary woods. When their car breaks down, and they stumble upon a mansion they learn their hosts are a little less than human...

Words: 9833, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Video Blogging RPF, Minecraft (Video Game), Dream SMP - Fandom

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot, Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Cara | CaptainPuffy, Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Sam | Awesamdude, Alexis | Quackity, Jack Manifold, Niki | Nihachu

Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)

Additional Tags: Vampires, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Dark Sleepy Bois Inc, Dark SBI, Kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome, Surprise Adoption, Manipulation, Possessive Behavior, Family Dynamics, I read Dracula for the first time and this was the result, Found Family, In a fucked kinda way, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot Needs Help, TommyInnit is Not Okay (Video Blogging RPF), Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Vampire Turning

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/38568276

[effervescentmind]

Entry 23b: 04.10.20@11:14pm

I’m back. Freshly peeled lol. 

Towards the end of last night’s post, I talked about wanting to put my love life on hold and focusing on my schooling and career. That hasn’t changed, especially not overnight lol. There’s just more I want to get into on the subject. It’s part of my personal growth and vulnerability that I haven’t shared with anyone. The last few months of my relationship with P, I was going through a huge depression and was feeling lost. Because of the emotional codependency, I lost myself. I no longer had the small sense of self before getting involved with him. I say small because I was still on a journey from all my childhood abuse. Anyway, the last few months were hell on earth, and he was constantly beating me down in every aspect imaginable. I was starting to fall out of love and hate him. In that process, I stopped having sex with him and after about a month or two, sought out others for satisfaction. At first, guilt filled me but was quickly replaced with...idk..spite? Anger? I’m not sure what to call it but I rationalized my infidelity because I wanted out. I knew I hated him and was looking to escape. I just wasn’t brave enough yet. Looking back at it, I should have just left and told my family what I had been going through. They would have helped me, but I was so afraid and guilty...I felt like a lot was my fault and that I was overreacting. I wasn���t but you know...Stockholm syndrome is one hell of a bitch. 

I do want to say that cheating is bad, and I don’t condone it. If you’re going to cheat just leave all together. Break it off and leave the person alone. A lesson, I have learned but back to what this post is really about. I was having sex with strangers. Loveless, no strings attached relations with people that weren’t friends or had an ounce of respect for me. Of course, at the time, I didn’t see it that way. I was rebounding and bought into the whole “no feelings” bullshit that society shoves down our throats. My body, vulnerability and energy were being shared with individuals that didn’t deserve it. Individuals that didn’t understand the beautiful ritual sex is. Individuals that were perverse and selfish in their motives. They just wanted to use me as a masturbation tool, as a piece of ass they could brag to their friends about. They didn’t make love to me, they fucked me. They lived their Pornhub fantasies and stroked their broken egos through me. 

I’m worth so much more than that. Every encounter made me feel less and less human. Every fuck turned me more into an object. It started changing how I viewed myself. If I was desirable, I was worth something, right? No. NO. The answer was noooooo. My depression came back quickly. My confidence was waning and I couldn’t get a hold of it. I realized that the only time I felt happy was during the flirting phase with a person. They were giving me attention and making me feel special and sexy. I craved that; it was like a drug. The sexting, flirting and compliments made me feel alive and I chased it, not really the sex. I still engaged in it because of my abusive childhood. I was conditioned to not think of myself and feel guilty about making others feel some type of way which in-turn, forced me to have sex I didn’t want when I was older. Toxic mommy issues that I’ve since worked through. 

My addiction to sexual encounters isn’t as prevalent as it once was. One day I blocked everyone I was talking to, talked to in the past and started working inward. I cleansed myself and my home. I stopped masturbating and put myself on a routine. I went to bed early, woke up early so that I could work out and shower before work. I found hobbies, read more and finally began working on all the ignored pain from my past. I wrote and cried a lot and it all helped. It was three months before I had sex again. He is the guy that I’ve been talking to these last eight months. 

Now, I do feel that I want to purge myself of this whole “friend with benefits” dynamic and for the most part have. He is the only one I’ve been having sex with, we are friends and care for each other but, there is no real connection. We aren’t in love and he doesn’t want a relationship right now. After getting to know him, I am starting to realize that not only is he not ready for commitment, but I don’t think he is a good match for me. If we got together, I wouldn’t be happy after a while. He finds it difficult to express himself, he’s prideful and arrogant. I think we are better off being friends and nothing more. I just hate that I allowed myself to stress over him and get hurt before I saw it. This humility and pain lead me to realize that sex is special and sacred. It is a bonding ritual and should only be done with the person that respects and loves you. Sex is vulnerability and sharing that vulnerability led me to ignore red flags and allow others to hurt me. I don’t want that anymore. I want to know the person I share myself with. I want them to know and love me before we decide to be intimate. I want our hearts to bleed for one another so that when the time comes, I feel whole. I feel safe, beautiful and happy. I don’t want to be fucked; I want to be loved. 

Therefore, I don’t mind putting my love life on hold. I don’t want to be blinded by another man that doesn’t care to treat me with respect and admiration. I’m an amazing, wonderful, loving woman and deserve to be seen and treated as such. I understand and am fully aware that human beings are sexual beings. Sex is a ritual that has been written about for ages. It can be used for enlightenment, boosted creativity and drive, if done properly. With that being said, I want to tie in the research mentioned earlier.

Last night, I was looking for a way to turn my sexual energy and needs into something productive. I came across articles on redirecting orgasmic energy back into your body for boosted energy and productivity. I feel like I’m not ready for that yet and my current sexual partner isn’t someone that makes me comfortable enough to try it with. Also, he is temporary, I’ll be moving away soon and starting my abstinent journey. I found an article saying that addictive sexual urges stem from something broken within ourselves and to pay attention to it. Being horny is natural and a part of what we are. There is no need to be ashamed, but you do need to understand it. When the feeling comes, let it. Acknowledge it and don’t act. Instead let it pass over you and analyze the other factors in that moment. Why are you feeling this way? What is going on in your life right now? Being aware and practicing this exercise will help you heal yourself sexually. If we can control and understand our urges, we can accomplish so much with our lives. 

This is where I am on my sexual journey and in turn self-discovery. I want healing and understanding of who I am. I want to love myself to the fullest so that no one can ever again love me wrong. I want my energy to demand and command respect from others. The only way to do it is to love and respect myself first. That’s my love life right now, I guess. It’s not on hold, I’m just dating me right now. Showing myself what love truly is.