#as long as it isnt unpleasant he's down for just about anything

[autistictaylorhebert]

So Alex is the youngest of four siblings, being raised by a single dad, and theres never enough food to go around. Their dad is always bargain hunting, sometimes getting food past its expiration date for cheap or free. Hes very careful about checking for mold and stuff, and tells them to never eat food past the date unless hes approved it. Theyre always hungry, but just in the way thats unhealthy long term and is unpleasant, not had enough to cause immediate health effects. Then their siblings hit puberty, and start hogging the food. Their dad tries to make sure Alex still gets a fair share, but hes working two jobs and just isnt able to keep on top of four kids, so Alex starts going hungrier and hungrier. One night, stomach aching with hunger, they sneak down to see if they can find anything. They finds a container with one entrie uneaten muffin, and theyre so hungry they just dig in. Afterwards they go back to bed, but soon has to run to the bathroom to throw up. As they realize they were an idiot, that they ignored their dad, and that now theyre going to be even hungrier, they trigger. (Trigger focus is when they starts throwing up, and the realization that they fucked up, and how theyre going to be even Hungrier, rather than on the long term hunger in general).

Striker, with minor brute elements. I like repression brute (enemies dissuaded from attacking brute through something ambient/contextual/meta), especially as it's easy to make it a subtle aspect of a striker power.

There's an argument for thinker, as they're realising something they didn't know before, but they're not uncovering a long term secret, and the fact that they know the muffin was bad doesn't solve their main problem.

Themes of experiencing (about to experience) the consequences of doing something wrong, and the knowledge that those consequences are going to continue for a while.

Nausea, vomit, hunger, tiredness, all work as "elements". Maybe more hunger and tiredness as they were consistent things in the run up to the trigger.

Alex has an aura of hunger and fatigue, appearing as a whispy, vague, sickly green/yellow glow. The aura that covers their clothes and hands, and extends about 20 or so cm away from them before fading hazily. Alex can turn the aura off, with concentration, but it reactivates whenever they're hungry.

When Alex touches someone, or someone touches them, the aura erupts, inflicting debilitating levels of hunger and fatigue (and often nausea/vomiting, depending on the person). When people strike Alex with more force or from further away, the eruption is greater in size, with a chance of hitting people using ranged weaponry.

Finally, the effects of the aura linger, taking days of rest and real meals before those effected feel better.

[kazooiesart]

revived ultimate stuff

this'll prolly be added to my au doc but just in case it isnt heres the info (feel free to send asks :]!)

the reset only affected v3. i'm unsure if this'll be changed later but for now its only v3

the reveal of ch6 isn't canon to the reset, everyone is actually who they are, no show or anything

there's probably a faint bloodstain on the floor in front of the school lol

there aren't 'ultimates,' everyone is just really good in a particular field

the hidden bookcase room is untouched, and no one is aware of it. there's extra precautions on it so no one can stumble on it, but otherwise, its looks just like it did prior to the events of the game

there is no evidence of the killing game. kokichi's room is still a mess, but it consists of random items he stole across the school, for little to no reason

everyone's ultimate room is referred to as their personal rooms, and look pretty much the same. rantaro's is the only one to look different, instead reflecting themes of travel

there are elevators across the school and a nurse's office. the elevators are for everyone's use, and at least one leads all the way up to the top floor. monokuma will always show up dressed as a nurse in the nurse's office. its a unpleasant experience for whoever entered

despite there being no killing game, there still isn't a actual school semester, nor a dating game, monokuma just lets everyone run around the school doing whatever, as long as it doesn't break any rules

the kubs still show up at random to chat, announcing themselves every time

the students don't remember where they lived, so it isn't too much of a bother that they cant leave

shuichi tends to follow kaede around, though he does do activities on his own or with kaito and maki

mainly, he still trains with the two at night

he's getting stronger

students who died during the killing game were revived with related health issues after the reset

students who bled upon death will sometimes bleed from the scars left behind, confusing them greatly

rantaro won't usually notice if he's bleeding as the pain blends in and he fails to register the feeling of blood

kokichi won't notice his back or arm bleeding for the same reason, but he will notice if his head bleeds as the blood drips into his eyes and mouth

rantaro and kokichi have memory issues

students who were culprits will become wary by those they killed/think they killed

if the victim is aware who killed them, the feeling is returned

students who were victims are wary in rooms they died in

rantaro constantly has bad headaches that range from 'somewhat manageable' to 'cannot focus at all'

rantaro's headaches usually keep him up at night so sometimes he dozes off in random places across the school (he's also often seen against a wall with his head buried in his arms)

this combined with his occasional bleeding will make it look like he's dead

kokichi enjoys lying on the floor face down when his head starts bleeding

kokichi's cane and chair has stickers on it from himself and the kubs

students tend to leave rantaro alone when they find him asleep, unless he's bleeding, to where they either wake him up, or attempt to bandage him while he's asleep

students who were culprits have nightmares about their executions. kaede will read books about music when she can't sleep due to them

kaede and miu have issues breathing and loose their breath easily

ryoma has minor headaches every now and again, alongside angie

he also immediately starts drowning in water

kirumi is just as dedicated to being a maid despite the occasional stabbing pain throughout her body

angie and tenko have neck pains, and they will notice if the scars on their necks start bleeding

kiyo and gonta are always really warm. gonta is also a target to be stung, but it doesn't make him like insects any less

kaito usually has a cold or flu, very rarely will he cough up blood

kokichi's entire body is in pain, he has scars on his back, arm, and head, and his body right below the arms will sometimes go out without warning. he also can't walk well without support, and needs something to lean on in order to stand

the kubs don't have the same associated emotions when it comes to dying pre-reset. they view each other the same as they did prior to the game starting. monosuke and monokid don't feel wary around monodam the same way kaede feels wary around rantaro

the kubs like snuggling with students should they find them sleeping around campus (though most of them wont admit it)

kokichi has been caught attempting to balance in his chair to reach things numerous times

kokichi will sometimes see gonta strangling miu if he's alone in the room with them. he'll then collapse

tsumugi was not brought back

[machinedramon]

presenting something no one asked for

since emmet and ingo are very much parallels with the twins and reshiram and zekrom, my brain decided it can't rest until the Tao trio is completed with a third brother to represent kyurem.

so. enter Aubin.

middle child syndrome to the max, and absolutely zero drive of his own. does excellent when given instructions though, and incredibly reliable so long as there aren't extra decisions involved. goes along with what the other two decide, and suffers extreme decision paralysis when asked what he wants to do.

isn't very competitive, so he doesn't participate in the battle subway. he keeps the standard trains running, and he is Tired of dealing with the general public. he does have a team of his own (umbreon, cofagrigus, magnezone and vanilluxe) and only uses them when needed, but also doesn't really know when to stop and is not above simply overwhelming troublemakers into compliance, lawsuits be damned.

a bit of a slob but not really on purpose. he just Doesn't Get It and he's got an assistant who is fixing his uniform constantly. lives separately from his brothers for his own mental health bc they keep trying to get him to tiebreak their discussions and will wait the eternity it takes for him to make a decision while his panic steadily increases, staring at him the whole time.

100% just a silly thing I needed to get out of my head. also he climbs into cofagrigus as a prank bc his Pokémon wouldn't hurt him, and his brothers fall for it every time.

edit: if u like him, consider reblogging! 💖

Edit 2: Updated team to be more generation compliant

[threepointseven]

Home(Dinner Part 2)

Im shortening the exchange students name to S/N AKA student name

Sorry i forgot to answer the person who actually requested this @kurooandkarmaswife thank you sm for requesting! I hope you enjoy 😩

Also lets pretend you cant have more than 1 pact with a human cause yeah. If you havent read Dinner yet go read it since you’ll really only understand this if u read the first part

Fandom: Obey me!

Pairing: not really with anyone but has subtle undertones of solomon & Simeon x reader

Length: sort of long

Genre: Angst with comfort

Gn! Reader and exchange student!

Part three!

Dinner last night, was, well...pretty terrible. I ended up waking up at 2 am to the brothers STILL not home. Apparently even Diavolo had taken a liking to the new exchange student.

A day goes by and finally i get to meet the new exchange student.

Whoah

Is all i can think. I walk into the living room unnoticed as everyone is talking to the new exchange student, i wouldnt blame them.

They look incredible.

I felt a hint of jealousy wash over me. Seeing Mammon, Asmo’s and Beel’s joyful laughs as they talk to them. Their voice was ever so gentle, it’s what i imagine spring to sound like.

I tried forgetting about my distasteful thoughts of jealousy and walked over to them.

“Goodmorning!”

I called out to try and grab their attention

“Oh, MC! I didnt see you there;;”

Asmo said to me as he was taking selfies with the new exchange student

“This is the new exchange student”

Beel smiled

“Hi! My name is MC”

I happily introduced myself

“My name is S/N”

They brought their hand out and i shook it in return. Their eyes were ever so sweet, i felt the sadness come over me as i wore a soft smile.

Something tells me this wont end well.

Weeks go by as i barely get to see the brothers anymore. They’re always around S/N. I find myself longing the brothers touch. The random emergency texts i get from mammon, calls from Asmo asking me if i wanted to go to a club, Belphie always dragging me to his room to take a nap, Beel’s adorable goodnight texts, Lucifer’s complaints about work, Satan’s library dates, And levi’s rants about a certain anime he just watched.. i missed it all.

I guess i missed the warmth and the constant attention i got from them. The attention thats now being directed at S/N.

The new feeling of emptiness leads me to the Purgatory hall, a place i’ve been to quite often after S/N had won over the brothers.

I enter the room praying that i dont see S/N hogging Luke, Solomon, and Simeon’s attention....

What?

Did i just think that?

Am i that jealous?

Have i gotten so used to being in the spotlight that suddenly i become like this when not in the center?

Its an unpleasant feeling and i try to snap myself out of it as i see Simeon, Luke, and Solomon all happily seated on the couch drinking tea and eating pastries Luke made.

“MC! Hey!!”

Luke happily greets me as well as Solomon and Simeon. Im pulled to the couch as im seated next to Luke. I take a bite of the pastry and embrace the comfort of the sugary sweets.

The conversation goes on for a long time as hours go by. Soon enough the entire tray of pastries and tea are long gone.

As the clock hits 8 PM i realize ive been at the Purgatory hall for too long now. Excusing myself i go back to the house of Lamentation to be once again greeted by smiling faces and S/N laying out plates filled with food for the brothers.

The brothers quarrels, Satan’s face of annoyance, Asmo’s whining... The smell of warm food on the dinner table being handed out....

As i hide from the view of the brothers and S/N i look back to when it would to be me that made everyone dinner and calmed them down.

My chair.

My chair had been occupied by S/N,

What?

Did they expect me to sit on the floor for dinner or something?

As i slowly walked to my room i heard the deep voice of Lucifer

“Oh MC,,, sorry S/N is sitting on your spot, we thought you were gonna go to the purgatory hall for dinner tonight. We do apologize”

As i feel my throat closing up i smile and say in a bubbly tone

“Oh it’s fine! I was actually gonna go out with my friends for dinner anyways! I was just getting something from my room, i’ll be out in a sec!”

Lucifer gave me a warm smile and continued conversing with S/N

As i went to my room i started to realize the situation here. I’ve been replaced. I mean who wouldn’t replace me when the actual definition of an angel was right in front of them with their welcoming arms open.

As soon as i got to my room salty tears trailed down my cheeks,

Jealousy?

Sadness?

Anger?

Whatever the emotion was i wasn’t having it. Unlocking my DDD to be greeted by the wallpaper of me and the brothers all dressed up for a ball we went to together once. i tried to hold back my few tears as i called Solomon, a dear friend of mine.

“Hey solomon!!”

“Oh, yes MC? Is there anything you need?”

“I know i just left the purgatory hall but could I possibly stay there for the night?”

“Oh, of course! I dont exactly know why but Luke’s already whining about how you stayed for too little.”

“I’ll be right over”

I hung up the phone, my tears stopping after i heard that comforting voice of his.

That night i stayed at the purgatory hall, happily sleeping next to Luke, lulling him to sleep.

The purgatory hall became my escape. Solomon always made me laugh, Simeon always made sure i felt welcome there and Luke was practically my adopted son after how long i could stay with him.

As i went about the kitchen helping Luke make a pastry i showed him from the human world a strange feeling washed over me. The feeling of something being erased from my my soul, something was fading away. That something felt like it was piercing my soul.

I look around my body to see what it is. As i look around i see it.

My pact marks are starting to fade

I panic as i excuse myself and go back to the house of lamentation.

As i silently enter the room i hear the faint sound of the brothers, they’re discussing something.

“Cmon Satan you’ve gotta be quick! What if they find out?!”

“Removing a pact isnt that easy Mammon.”

As i listen more i realize what it is.

They’re trying to break my pact with me.

And for what exactly?

Because they want one with someone else.

That someone being S/N

It hurt. Who wouldn’t be hurt? tears flowed from my eyes in record time as i tiredly walk outside.

Devildom was a place the brothers always told me to beware of, but right now i couldnt care less.

While i walked around the town with puffy eyes and the stinging feeling of my pact marks being removed, i hear a certain group of people call my name, i look back to see Luke, Solomon and Simeon’s smiles quickly turn into frowns as they see my tears

“What’s wrong MC?!”

Luke worriedly asks

Unable to hold it in i tell Them.

“The brothers are trying to break my pact with them, they want one with S/N apparently. Im afraid i’ve been replaced by that saint..”

Solomon and Simeon’s face turn into faces of empathy while Luke’s turned quite sour

As Simeon came closer to me and pulled me close into a hugged he mumbles out a comforting phrase

“Whatever happens MC, you’ll always be welcome at the purgatory hall.”

The sentence made my stomach overflow with butterflies. I happily hug back, quickly accepting the purgatory hall as my new and improved home.

[cdroloisms]

Dream tried to stop Wil from creating L'Manburg, Phil tried to stop him from blowing it up, BOTH value people over items and builds, Phil has said that they're replaceable but people aren't, Dream traded spirit for his best friends fishes (we kno he's not someone to talk abt feelings:[) BOTH were kind and selfless but used by almost if not everyone, BOTH were ready to be THE VILLAINS if it meant everyone else could live better after. ONE of them always had someone there, ONE didn't. Intentional?

aaaa sorry for the really inconsistent posts ,, im gonna try to post a little more in the next few days. i have a few things written up, so look out for them? maybe? for now, have this *gestures vaguely* thing ,, it’s kinda a mess but *shrug*

phil is such a fun character, anon, especially for all the reasons that you mentioned in the ask!! he’s a really fun character with a lot of complexities that go (sadly) overlooked by a large portion of the fandom, but he’s super cool even tho i havent analyzed him too much. hope you enjoy (and i hope my interpretation of c!phil isnt too ooc lmao) 

tw: mentioned blood, injury, implied torture/abuse, starvation, trauma, mentioned death, prison arc/pandora’s vault

When Techno first brings Dream back from the prison, Phil doesn’t quite know what to think.

“I don’t trust him either,” Techno assures him, but there’s a flickering anger in the backs of his eyes, one that had emerged ever since he came back from the prison with the other man in his arms, and Phil knows his friend well enough to know that the words are empty in the face of the piglin hybrid’s particular brand of to-the-death loyalty. He shakes his head in reply, refusing to voice his thoughts for Techno’s sake, at least, but the look that the other slants at him suggests that he’s caught onto them all the same.

At first, the work is thankfully mindless; even if Phil has reservations on the man that Techno has more or less dumped into his house, he would hardly wish the clear suffering he’s been through on anyone. The first few days pass in a flurry of brewing potions, wrapping and rewrapping dressings, stitching up cuts and setting broken bones straight. The damage is extensive; Phil has to take more than a few breaks to just leave the house and breathe - he’s far from a stranger to blood and carnage, had received the title of ‘Angel of Death’ for a reason, but even he had never been particularly familiar with this form of cruelty. Torture was a level of violence that extended beyond what even he was willing to bestow - his hands may have caused many deaths, and the weight of each one would continue to haunt him for the rest of his life, but even those had the mercy of being a quick end. The wounds and scars that ripple over Dream’s skin, thin and stretched tightly over his bones with little muscle and fat left to cushion them, speak of horrors that were anything but merciful.

“I didn’t know they were capable of all of this,” Techno says, once, as they huddle of Dream, wringing towels in cold water to wipe his feverish skin. Techno’s hand reaches for the ribboning gold-filled scars that remain from the execution - carefully, Phil raises his hand to let his fingertips brush over them as well. “I mean, I knew he was dangerous and all, but-”

“I know, mate,” Phil looks back at Dream’s face, tight even in unconsciousness, at the darkened, hand-shaped bruises that remain around his throat, at the scar that runs over his left eye, clearly meant to mirror the same one that makes its way down the duck hybrid’s own face. “You said that Quackity and Sam were working together?”

“Yeah,” Techno’s expression darkens, eyes focused somewhere on the wall, seemingly very far away. He said that nothing happened to him in the prison, and he seemed relatively unharmed when Phil activated the stasis chamber, but ever since he came back, sometimes he’ll have moments, and Phil can’t help but - wonder. “Quackity does the dirty work, Sam gives him the way in and out, probably also the tools to do it. It’s-” he huffs a short, self-recriminating laugh. “It’s bad, Phil.”

“Mate-”

Techno shoots him a look, and Phil cringes, knowing already that he’d used the wrong tone. Even with the execution, Techno had been adamant to hide all traces of his own terror and fear away from him, masking it all with fury for Phil’s own sake. He knows, just from the way his old friend looks at the ribboning scars that remain sometimes, that he is far from as over the whole ordeal as he acts, but Techno never wants to talk and Phil never knows the right time to ask and they smooth it all behind plans and explosions and hope that the TNT can blow apart the trauma, too. He’s got a sneaking suspicion that the same thing is going to happen, here.

“As soon as we can,” Techno starts again, pointedly shifting his eyes away from Phil’s face, “we’re calling a Syndicate meeting to figure out what we’re going to do about the prison. Like- come on, man, you couldn’t make a more transparent abuse of institutional power if you tried, really-” he looks over, uncharacteristic uncertainty warring over his features. “If you think that’s good, I mean-“

“Of course, mate.” Phil’s voice softens. “Whenever you’re ready.”

‘Whenever he’s ready,’ as it turns out, is easier said than done, becoming even more evident when their charge wakes up from his days long spell of unconsciousness. The worst of his injuries have, under their careful care and the benefit of many potions, healed enough to no longer directly threaten his life, but the vast majority have quite some time to go before being healed completely. Being as the goal was torture and not death, most of his injuries weren’t made to be life-threatening, but rather to cause as much pain as possible - from the grimace that twists Dream’s face when he struggles to force himself awake, they’re doing their jobs.

“Hey, mate, slow down,” Phil murmurs, pressing the man down by his shoulder when Dream weakly tries to push himself up and off the bed, and his struggling only lasts for a few more minutes before he gives up and slumps against his pillow, eyes cracking open and seeming surprisingly lucid.

“Where-“ his voice is wrecked, and Phil reaches for the glass of water at the bedside as Dream coughs. “Where am I?”

“You’re at Techno’s house,” Dream’s eyes widen and then slip closed as he processes the information, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows as they knit together. “We broke you out, after Techno escaped with a stasis chamber with your book. Do you remember?”

Dream gnaws on his bottom lip. “Um- yeah. I think.” His head turns as his eyes crack open again- “Techno-“

“He’s out, right now. He’ll be back in a bit.”

“Oh.” Dream falls back into the bed, strength seemingly sapped from the short conversation. His breathing stutters, then steadies. “Okay.”

Recovery is slow. Phil doesn’t actually find himself seeing the man very often; now that he doesn’t need around-the-clock care anymore, he’s moved back into his own house, letting Techno do most of the work when it comes to rehabilitating the escaped convict crashing at his house. As he begins to spend more of his time awake and aware, he brings a whole slew of new problems; Phil catches him screaming one day, blurting harsh, angry words as Techno reads, unbothered from the other side of the room, and he stops in his tracks standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Um-“ he winces when Dream curses, smashes something against the floor, and then curls into himself at the sound. Techno doesn’t even flinch. “Am I interrupting something?”

Dream stomps away, face flushed, arms wrapped around himself. Techno raises an eyebrow.

“You lookin’ for something, Phil?” he asks, and the unpleasant knot in Phil’s chest refuses to unwind.

The episodes, unfortunately, don’t seem to get much better. Though he’s rarely outright violent, Dream looks constantly murderous, usually muttering underneath his breath about something or another while he stalks the grounds of Techno’s house. It’s not too long before Techno sends him out to work around the house instead of just moping within the cottage, which also means that Phil sees him a lot more - tending to a small farm behind the house, feeding the dogs, hacking away at mobs, and usually complaining the entire time. It’s unnerving, even as injured and unarmored as the man is, to see him walking around like this; despite his rather pathetic appearance, swamped in sweaters that dwarf him thoroughly and thin enough to look like the slightest breeze will knock him over, his eyes are flinty and intelligent and bubble with promises of revenge.

“FUCK!” Phil turns to see him slamming a shovel into the snow, stomping away into the woods, and his hands tighten around his cup of tea. Next to him, Techno shrugs.

“Nerd’s got a few issues,” he drawls, and Phil laughs shortly.

“That seems like an understatement.”

“He’ll ease up in time,” Techno sounds surprisingly confident, completely content despite the muffled curses that come from the woods next to them. He’s probably used to it, with Chat and all, but Phil can’t quite seem to find the same calm.

“I just don’t know, mate,” Phil shakes his head. “You sure having him around is the best idea? He doesn’t seem...stable.”

Techno looks up at him over the rim of his cup of coffee. His head tilts, considering, but there’s a small smile on his face that tells Phil that Techno, inexplicably, doesn’t share the same sentiments. There was always a part of him that was, for the lack of a better word, softer than the rest of the server for his self-proclaimed rival, a sort of understanding that Phil could hardly hope (nor would really want to) understand.

“Don’t worry, Phil, if he tries anything I can always just tie him up in the attic or something,” Phil huffs a small laugh, amused, and nods to concede the point. “And- well, call it intuition. You could really try talkin’ to him, you know. He reminds me of you, sometimes.”

The words stick in his head despite his best efforts, rattling in his skull when he tries to sleep, lingering when he catches glimpses of the green-clothed man stalking around their properties. He can’t imagine what would’ve prompted his old friend to make the comparison, can’t think of a single thing (besides their affinity for the color green) that would mark him as similar to the - from what he’s heard - deranged menace with a particular penchant for destruction (not that his rants and fits of anger are doing anything to correct that impression). Even so, Techno had sounded so sure when he’d made the comparison, the words offhand like he’d thought them a million times before, like it was a simple observation that held no more weight than commenting on the color of the sky. Phil watches as Dream lugs a pile of logs behind him, huffing at one of Techno’s dogs that comes to chase and nip at his feet and grumbling loudly before faceplanting into the snow. He just...can’t see it.

Days later, Wilbur comes to visit, a grin on his lips as he dramatically recounts his newest exploit: a nation by Las Nevadas, a supposed safe haven away from the glitter and glory of Quackity’s city; it sounds brilliant, it sounds lovely, and more than anything it sounds stupid, and Phil tells him as such immediately.

“You’re being reckless,” he rants at his son, wings flaring outwards and only barely noticing Dream watching from the corner of his eye, “What are you doing- picking fights with Quackity? Starting another nation- didn’t you see what happened to the first two you made? You’re going to get yourself killed, Wil!”

“Well, I’ve already seen what’s on the other side of death, and it’s really not that bad-“

“You’re my son!” The words are angrier than Phil would’ve liked, and he knows that he looks ridiculous and overbearing, criticizing the actions of his fully grown son, but all he can see is Wilbur’s face, slack with pain and grief, stained with ash and soot as his eyes flutter to half-mast in the midst of the rubble of a country he loved and destroyed and destroyed him in turn. “I can’t lose you again, Wil!”

Wilbur doesn’t quite storm out, but it’s a near thing, leaving with a clipped goodbye and leaving Phil seething on his doorstep. He spends the rest of the night pacing around the house in a sort of mad frenzy, wings stretching and folding over and over. Not for the first time, he longs for the sky, to feel the air through his wings and let the world fall into pinpricks below him; it’s this that leads him to the roof of his house, staring stubbornly at the clouds as the sun sinks down to the horizon.

“Hey.”

Phil startles; there, down below him, is Dream. He rocks back on his heels, seeming awkward, before clambering up the wall (Phil rolls his eyes at the ease with which he scales it, the feeling in his chest almost fond) and settling himself on the shingles at Phil’s side.

“Hey, mate,” Phil shakes his head. The fondness leaves, and the irritation that had risen at Wilbur’s words, earlier, comes back full-force. “Sorry- Wil came to visit, we talked. I just needed some time to think.”

Dream hums in acknowledgement, and they fall into a comfortable silence, watching as the sun dipping down past the mountains in the distance.

“You know,” Dream starts, sudden, “I told him the same thing.” He looks up at Phil, eyes faraway with old memories. “Wilbur, I mean. When he made L’manburg- I told him he was being reckless.” He shrugs. “I guess he never listened.”

Phil pauses, Techno’s words ringing in his ears. He reminds me of you, sometimes.

Dream looks surprisingly normal up close - face no longer reddened with fever or pale from blood loss, even the scars fail to really take from the boyishness of his face. He bites his lips, eyes falling away at Phil’s scrutiny, golden blond hair flopping over his forehead, newly trimmed to be something a little closer to his old length, at least in the front, the back pulled into a small ponytail. He’s young, and shockingly awkward, teeth worrying his lip, hands fiddling with each other, shifting his weight from one foot to the other several times a minute. He looks like a kid.

“He never does,” Phil lets himself smile, watches as Dream smiles back, almost like they’re sharing a joke. He wonders how well he really knows the man behind the mask. “Want to come in for some tea?”

Dream smiles wider, and something old and worn in Phils chest, knocked loose ever since he felt his son fall limp in his arms with his own sword shoved between his ribs, falls back into place.

“That would be great,” Dream replies, the words almost hopeful, and they go inside.

[pandapupremade]

✨✨✨✨ MORE.

Send me ✨ for a random thing about one of my OCs! (Optional: You can specify one!)

thank u for sending mwa mwa here's some facts about Cedric (left with cape) and Fore (right with hat)

✨ These two are brothers! Cedric is an age I haven’t decided on but he’s around 25, and fore is 15. despite being brothers, they literally hate each other and are uh kinda trying to kill each other - or Fore is trying to kill Cedric and Cedric doesn’t give a shit but isnt against fighting back

✨ Fore is a bounty hunter of sorts. He’s a skilled swordsman, but not very quick on his feet. Cedric, on the other hand, is a shapeshifter and very quick on his feet. Fore has it out for Cedric for personal reasons, but also because Cedric has quite a large bounty on his head for various crimes

✨ Cedric’s appearance is actually not his own. His shapeshifting is extremely detailed and can copy someone down to the smallest details, but at the expense that whatever he transforms into leaves at least one physical feature. E.G the cat ears from transforming into a cat, his different colored eyes, etc. His skintone is also different from his brother’s for this reason

✨ As if to fit with his shapeshifting, Cedric is very much an unpleasant, manipulative personality whose true nature not even Fore probably knows, because he’s never the same person. He’s not some sort of ableist ‘multiple personaltiy’ thing dont worry, its literally just. Cedric has never been honest in his life in any way and acts different depending on the people and situation, but its always for his own gain. On the other hand, Fore is a very serious, but honest and well meaning individual. Fore isn’t great with communication or social skills or anything because he’s spent a long time training and not making friends but its fine

[samwinchestersgf]

obsession (part three)

prompt: “oh my god! he’s obsessed with you!”

warnings: horror, gore, obsessive weirdo, protective sam. language. nothing worse than what’s in the show, but still unsettling

read part one (here) and part two (here)

another cold slice of the blade makes me thrash in my seat. i could give up. i could give him what he wants, but that wouldn’t end the pain. besides, external pain in easier to deal with than internal pain.

my head slumps and my chin is almost touching my chest. bryan tilts my chin up with the knife. “you can always just tell me you love me, not sam. this can all stop.”

“it seems like you’re enjoying this too much. i’ll pass.” i glare.

i cry out as he cuts through my jeans for the fourth time. he yells, “say it!”

“go to hell!” i yell back.

he lowers himself, so that he’s eye level to me. “darling, it’s been a day. sam isn’t coming. so, you can either keep wasting both of our time, or admit that you love me.”

“i’m not a liar.” my voice is pure venom.

he grabs me by my cheek. “so say you love me.”

i spit at him. he wipes the spit off of his cheek and walks away, his hands behind his head. “i don’t know what to do with you.”

“you could let me go.” i propose.

“and have to go to the police, no way.” he scoffs.

“you’re really amateur at this.” i remark.

“i’ve never fucking kidnapped someone before.” he pauses. “i’ve never felt this way about someone before.”

i look at him pensively. “i don’t know if you know this or not, but this is not normal.”

“being in love in normal,” he argues.

“it’s beyond that, now. you’re not in love with me; you’re obsessed with me.” i correct.

“is there really that big of a difference?” he rolls his eyes.

“huge difference.” i laugh.

he pulls up a chair. “teach me.”

“teach you?” i raise an eyebrow.

“teach me the difference.” he demands again, sitting down.

“well, first of all, when you love someone, you don’t speak to them like that.” i start, deciding to play along. “because you’d never hurt them on purpose, even if it was for their own good.”

“you’re making things up,” he scoffs.

“i’m not. when you love someone, it hurts you to see them in pain. so, if you love someone, you learn to let them go.” i tell him.

i remember back to the time i had to let someone go. sam liked this other girl, and even though it killed me, i stayed quiet. sure, it was partially because i didn’t have the nerve to do anything else, but even if i did, i wouldn��t have. he was happy. i consider telling bryan this story, but it would only make him mad.

“what does being in love feel like?” he asks.

“calm.” i answer. “you can still get butterflies, but being in love with someone means you’re comfortable enough around them to be yourself.”

bryan raises an eyebrow, “are you in love with sam?”

i laugh darkly. i feel my mental walls breaking. it’s been a day. it’s dark, and cold, and dusty. warm, red liquid is everywhere, and i taste copper. i don’t have the energy to keep fighting.

“sam isnt even my boyfriend.” i blurt. “we’re not in love yet, but i love him.”

“you lied?” he stands up.

“yes, i fucking lied. i’m stupid enough to get into a stranger’s car, but i’m not stupid enough to let him think i’m single.” i laugh again.

he cuts my hand. “that’s for lying.”

“cut my tongue out.” i roll my eyes.

“that’s disgusting.” he drops the knife and walks away.

“what? am i too much for you now?” i call out.

“yes! you’re too fucking much for me right now.” he blows up. “it wasn’t supposed to be like this!”

“love isn’t all roses, bryan.” his name is like belladonna.

“well, it’s gonna be. you’re gonna crack, okay?” he yells.

“can you put up with me that long? i can be more annoying, just wait.” i match his volume.

“i don’t know! will you shut up?” he rubs his temples.

i hum, “you don’t love me.”

he marches over and grabs my face roughly, slamming his lips against mine in the most unpleasant way. i stay still, not breathing, not blinking, not moving, until he pulls away. it doesn’t feel anywhere near the feeling i had when sam kissed me.

“why won’t you kiss me?” he looks offended.

“you fucking cut me.” i scoff.

he pinches his nose. “i’m not patient enough for this.”

“let me go?”

“or i could just leave.”

“further proving my point that you don’t actually love me.” i call out to him.

“i do love you, and i always will. i want you stop saying i don’t, because you don’t know how i’m feeling.” he blows up again.

i shake my head. i can’t even respond to him anymore. i’m tired, and cold. i’m starting lose hope. i’m starting to lose faith in sam.

he picks up the knife again, sighing. he lazily runs in across my left cheek, making the two gashes that are already there sting even more.

suddenly, i can hear sirens. i lift my head up and look at bryan. “think they’re coming here?”

“you better hope they aren’t.” he knicks my jaw.

the sirens grow closer and closer, until it’s evident that they’re right outside. bryan freezes, dropping the knife. he looks around, frantic. there’s a door behind me, but he’s not that stupid. he knows they’ll catch him.

“what are you gonna do, buddy?” i ask, smug.

“shut up!” he shouts, “i can’t think!”

the door is kicked down. a swarm of police officers walk in, catching bryan red handed. “hands up!”

he throws his hands up. “i can explain.”

“step away from the girl!” the police officers shout.

i let myself relax a little bit, until bryan speaks. “i was just coming in here to save her.”

“is that true, ma’am?” they ask.

“no.” i say coldly.

the police whisk him away, and emergency responders rush in, untying me and helping me outside. the bright sun outside makes my eyes sting and water. in the corner of my eye, i see sam stand up and get out of his car. they walk me over to him.

“do you think we need to take her to the hospital, mr. winchester? she’s not in any medical danger.” one emergency responder asks.

“i’ve got her, thank you.” he nods. he slips his arm under my shoulders and helps me into the passenger seat of his car.

he doesn’t speak until the door is shut. his voice is tender, and quiet. “what did he do to you?”

i can’t even look at him. “nothing too bad.”

“you’re exactly like dean...” he shakes his head, huffing gently. i want to respond, but i don’t know what i’d say.

“i’m-“

“don’t say your sorry.” he stops me. “just stop.”

i shake my head and sigh. the buzzing of the engine and the low hum of the radio lures me dangerously close to falling asleep. my body dares me to try to stay awake, but i decline. i let my body have what it wants. i sleep.

—————————————

“ah... damnit.” i hiss, eyes still closed.

“i was hoping you’d stay asleep for this part.” sam remarks quietly.

“i’m fine, i’m fine.” i open my eyes and look down at him. he’s cleaning the cuts on my legs with alcohol, and damn, it hurts. “we... we obviously need to have a conversation.”

“do you really want to do that now?” he raises an eyebrow, not pausing.

“might as well rip off both bandaids at once.” i joke. “go ahead, yell.”

“i’m not gonna yell.” he states calmly.

“you want to.” i insist.

“i don’t want to yell,” he restates. “are you gonna listen if i don’t?”

“i’ll listen.” i nod quietly, taking a sharp inhale when he starts cleaning the next wound.

“i care about you, so, so much. i thought you understood that.” he doesn’t look at me yet. i remember two nights ago when he kissed me.

“i understand it, sam.” i respond.

“then, why would you go out and do something reckless like that? do you have any idea how terrified i was all day?” his voice breaks. “i tracked your phone to his house, and i tracked it to that abandonded place, and the whole time, i was terrified.”

“i’m sorry, sam.” my chest drops.

“why did you do it?” he asks, bandages a cut.

“i wanted to let him know that i wasn’t gonna talk to him anymore,” i swallow.

“you couldn’t have texted him? or, waited for me get home? or, hell, at least have told me where you were going?” he questions.

“i wasn’t thinking,” i admit.

“i know that,” he sighs and finally looks up at me. “i’m not even mad.”

“it would be easier if you were,” my voice breaks in sync with my heart when i see his eyes. his expression is hard, but there’s a hint of softness and worry that makes me want to crumble.

“i already have someone in my life that is stupidly brave, y/n.” he drops his cleaning supplies and grabs my hand.

i squeeze his hand ever so slightly. “yeah?”

“i... i don’t want you to be that person. i want you to be cautious.” he rubs my hand with his thumb.

“that’s just not me.” i swallow.

“i don’t wanna lose you. i just got you; i can’t lose you.” he reiterates.

i sit all the way up. i hesitate, my eyes flicking from his eyes to his lips, and in one swift motion, i close the distance. despite the butterflies in my stomach, i’m calm. i pull back quietly, letting out a slow breath.

he doesn’t say a word. we both already know what he’s thinking. he’s extra gentle when he resumes cleaning my wound. when he’s finished, he just looks at me for a second, and then gets up to go put the supplies away.

nerves course through my. i clear my throat and call out. “sam?”

he turns around. “hm?”

“don’t leave me.” i shake.

he walks back over and wraps me in a tight hug, kissing my forehead. “i won’t.”

—————————————

thank you guys sooo much for the overwhelming support on this series! if you like what you see, you could go ahead and follow me ;)

here’s my tag list for this series!@patrickfluegers @vicmc624 @vampire7595 @heyyy-hey-babyyy @eternal-maniac

[spitefulqueenofdemons]

https://spitefulqueenofdemons.tumblr.com/post/643713435650113536/sleep-deprived part 2

Pushing Up Daisies chapter 3

Tw: language, murder, guns, cops, mentions of drugs

Word count: 1373

Summary: After having woken up tied to a chunk of concrete under water and doing an unspeakable act (for your survival??) You find yourself out of options and people to help. Well almost, the only one you think might be able to help is the one who got you in this situation in the first place

After a long shower and several hours on the internet searching for anything that could tell you what was going on. Apart from a few hundred movies and books with undead content the most concrete actual zombie anything you could find was mostly about the voodoo dust that people used to put others under control. And back in the 18, and 1900s people accidentally being buried alive. 

There was virtually nothing about zombies in Seattle. All you knew for sure was what had happened to you. You confronted Blaine, he grabbed you, shot you, dumped you in a lake and you woke up you dont know how long after underwater with no need to breath. 

As you thought and absently read yet another article about 'Haitian Zombies' you rubbed your hand against your wrist that Blaine had grabbed you with. The scratch marks on your arm were as faint as old scars but you could feel them still.

And just like that realization hit. The red eyes made sense. Blaine was a zombie, and that lady who was working the front counter probably was too. It had to be some sort of virus or something that could be transferred through scratch. The teenager in you was thrilled that zombies were real and not mindless corpses that just wandered around destroying everything it came across. Sure when you first emerged from the lake you couldnt control yourself and killed that poor innocent man but you were literally starving. 

Perhaps that was the down side. The hunger is enough to blind you from any moral standing. Even more unfortunate, you didnt know how long what brains you did eat earlier would keep you satiated and you didnt have a way to get more without committing more murder. You didnt know anything about the zombieism other than the scratch causes it. 

You really only had an one option. Go back to Blaine. He had options. Once you got there he could kill you, or turn you away, or kill you. You had gone in only, according to your microwave, 8 hours ago guns blazing accusing him of being a utopium dealer. How could you expect him to help. 

Now you also knew you couldnt go to the police. As an officer you knew they would either freak out or hide it. And by hiding it you knew that would mean hiding you, IE killing you and sweeping it under the rug. They might turn you over to some higher part of the government. The type that does a bunch of invasive and usually very painful experiments and research. 

You could just drop it. Leave town and change your name. But then again that brings up the issue of how will you eat? Murder is just too horrible an option for you. Grave robbing coukd be viable but half decomposed chemically drowned brain is almost as bad as the moral stand still of murder. 

Deciding on your course of action you breezed to your closet, choosing a simple black hoodie, dark jeans and boots, and a ball cap to hide your snowy hair to wear. You grabbed a glock 19. Not the gun you had when you went to visit Blaine in the first place. That one was gone, probably in Debeers' personal stash now. This time though if he pulled so would you. 

Without a vehicle, you assumed it would no longer be parked where you left it in front of MEATchute, you were instead forced to catch a bus to the opposite side of town. The open sign was off but you could see people behind the counter. It looked like they were counting the drawer.

You beat on the glass with an open palm, hard enough for it to make a lot of noise but not hard enough to shatter the glass. The older woman from when you first came was the one to open the door. She looked like she had seen a ghost, but still somehow like she didnt care. 

"Cant you read the sign? We are closed. That means you dont have to go home but you sure as shit cant stay here." She half growled. 

You rolled your eyes, half willing to punch her in the face if she wanted to get cocky. "Move. Wheres Debeers?" You demanded, eyes flashing past the stumpy woman and to the counter where a large man with dark hair stood sizing you up. "You," you said. You recognized him as one of the names that gave a name that then gave you Debeers. "You work for him. I shouldnt be surprised." 

He cocked an eyebrow. "Cissie, let her through." The man said. He looked like a knock off version of Patrick Warburton. "You are supposed to be dead little lady. You got lungs of steal or are you one of us?" 

You scoffed, wanting to hit them all. You knew it wasnt a part of the zombieism either. These fuckers were all instrumental in your death. That enough was reason for a slight beating. "I got nothing to say to you Julian. I'm here for Blaine and I'm not leaving till I get to talk to him." You demanded, stomping up to the counter. 

The man sighed as if this was one of the last things he wanted to deal with. "Well he isnt here but I'll call him. See if he wants to talk to you. Follow me." He said, gesturing to you. 

Not exactly happy, but pleased you were getting what you want, you followed the man behind the counter. He took you further into the building and finally into a room off the kitchen that actually looked like a real office. The large mahogany desk was a mess with files and papers, on top of them all was the stolen file from your apartment. There was a few random art pieces. 

"Wait here. Someone will be by soon." He instructed, leaving you in the room alone. Trusting that you wouldnt snoop. Normally you would but this situation was not the time. You needed help, and had already pissed off two of the three people you knew had a hand in that. Snooping through Blaine's real office would be like flipping the bird after you already spit on and slapped someone. Definitely not a good idea on your part. 

It took less than 20 minutes before the door opened again and a familiar blond haired blue eyed gangster opened the door. "Ah Detective. What an unpleasant surprise. I didnt know you walked amongst the undead." He said with an air of genuine shock. "When Julian told me I really didnt believe him. You took those bullets like a mortal. What happened?" 

You laid out your wrist on the desk, the marks almost completely gone. He crossed to the other side and sat down, moving the little lamp that was sitting at the corner of the table. He shone the lamp over my arm and the little pink marks showed up. 

Blaine 'tsk'ed. "Was it me?" He had a fake look of disgust on his face. "It was me wasnt it. Damn it, I knew I shouldnt have blown off my manicure appointment this morning." He shook his head. "Thats why you arent dead. You gotta be starving though. Would you like a snack? Pudding? Crackers and cheese? Brains?" He questioned. 

You looked at the mark on your wrist in the light, your jaw clenched a little. "No thanks I already ate, but that is part of what I would like to discus." 

At that his eyes widened with actual shock. "Um, you already ate? Did you kill someone or dig up a body?" When I didnt answer he nodded knowingly. "You killed someone. Oh I bet that was a sight. Sorry about the cinderblock by the way. I didnt think you would be waking up. Im sure it wasnt the best alarm." 

You scoffed, a little thankful he stopped asking about your food source. "Waking up underwater was definitely a new experience, but then again so far my whole evening has been new experiences." You told him. 

"Well, allow me to formally welcome you to the land of Zombies. I'll explain everything."

[rosenmarille]

First of all: that One Day bit is quality content. Second of all I read "3.5 for Holly" and am Highly Interested

HI yes! i will explain, however i first have to correct myself. its actually a part 2.5, not 3.5. like i mentioned in the other post, the part is called “heart unbound”, this is about 25 years after battle tendency, when holly is in her early 20s!!

the rest of this im gonna put under the cut

so the setting. joseph (43), suzie, and holly (21) live in new york, smokey is in georgia, lisa lisa (75) is Somewhere in the states, erina and speedwagon have passed away (sad). its 1963! the speedwagon foundation has continued expanding, with joseph and lisa lisa closely involved after speedwagons death. they’ve mostly moved their attention into new territory, but still have all their old research kept. stands aren't a thing yeeet, but its been long enough that the pillarmen have faded into unpleasant memory.

until one night the power at the swf hq goes out for just a moment too long, and santana manages to escape.

joseph and lisa lisa are contacted asap, and they decide to travel down to texas and find him (preferably take him out for good this time). holly, who has grown up hearing about jojo’s wild escapades, really wants to come along. she knows some hamon! she can defend herself! come on!! (yes i said it, holly learned hamon, do you think having lisa lisa for a grandmother would result in anything less?) anyway, joseph and lisa lisa Really don't want her to come since it could be really dangerous and they'd rather not put her in harm’s way.

so holly (rich, unsupervised) books a plane and goes after them.

we skip to texas!! joseph and lisa lisa investigate at hq and the surrounding area and find practically no trace of santana or where he might have gone. when holly arrives, she decides that since she can't look into hq without getting caught, she’ll ask around with locals, and manages to hear rumours about a new sort of cryptid (only appears at night, weird anatomy etc), both cattle and people have been disappearing, but on a very small scale. she looks into similar stories and realizes that santana must be moving south, though what he's planning, she doesn't know. but she will follow!! (and leave breadcrumbs for her family to pick up on this pattern too, she guesses. not so helpless now, huh?)

so this goes for a while, taking her down into mexico, until she is pretty sure that she can triangulate the missing people reports accurately enough to actually Find him. holly isnt stupid, she doesnt think she can win in a battle against a pillarman. what she’s hoping to do is prove herself to joseph and lisa lisa by prepping and helping out enough for them to then take care of the problem. she's an adult now and she doesnt appreciate being treated like a child. (you may say this contradicts how she behaved towards joseph in part 3, but to that i counter: she's in her 40s in that one, and her being an adult is established enough that she knows she can act a lil silli without that being put in question)

but hey!! she does find him!! she decides to stalk him for a bit, see what he does. so she happens to be there when santana attacks a young woman (midnight snack), who pulls a KNIFE instead of running away, so Holly rushes in and deflects an attack with a quick hamon swipe. santana has learned from his previous hamon encounter and instead of sticking around, he decides it isn't worth it and absconds instead (smart). (at this point you might notice this is the first fight of the part. yeah it be like that in this one. call it battle untendency) 

holly and the woman (who later introduces herself as Maria (no last name yet; but named after Maria Maria by Santana (lol)) also get out of dodge and hide out in an alley, where maria decides that she needs to know what the fuck that Thing was, yesterday. magic?? sparkling?? hello??? and hollys like uhh hah yes so. that's an ancient semi immortal vampire creature? and this is sunlight breathing magic, which he's allergic to. yea. and maria is like ................yeah okay i buy it. teach me sunlight breathing magic, i wanna come.

maria side paragraph! she's our oc and we love her. remember that awful scene from the santana arc with all those prisoners and the one kid who doesn't get sacrificed? that's her older brother. he was “let go” but “let go” basically did just mean “free to wander the desert and find civilisation maybe”, so when he did eventually find his way back home, he'd been severely traumatized, plus on death's door. other prisoners had been turned into vampires to test on the pillarman discovery, so the word “vampire” is something he'd have heard and conveyed to his family, who didn’t. really believe him. he also hasn't really recovered from that experience :( then the war happened and maria's dad served in it, and afterwards decided that his other child needed to know how to defend herself, and maria learned how to handle a knife, as well as how to physically fight. their family managed to avoid post war financial problems for the most part, and maria was able to finish her studies! she's a pilot :)  she is, however, harbouring very deep anger and resentment for what happened to her brother, and has not really had a face to direct that anger towards, so it's been on a relatively low burner for the most part, but now there’s talk of vampires and a person she can blame for her family’s trauma.

they exchange notes and she realizes that yeahh, that is pretty much exactly what her brother had told them, so it was true. hah :) yes actually, i would like to learn vampire killing magic please holly. and holly, who didn't really want to bring someone with her, but kind of does believe in accidents not being a thing, decides that yeah, she probably should bring maria along. and sure!! if they have to deal with sanata again, why not teach her hamon!! they share stories and continue to follow the trail while they train together, and become really close friends! jobro time.

we've now reached the first third of the story.

we travel further south!! soon, holly begins to realize......... ohh..... the temple they found santana in.. that's south of here, isn't it? oh huh. what could he want there?? the masks have been destroyed as far as she knows?? she doesn't know enough first hand to know what significance there could be, but the girls prepare for anything. maybe a big weapon the researchers had not been able to identify?? MOre pillarmen, secretly living underneath the temple??? 

(there are gonna be some scenes that involve lisa lisa and joseph figuring out where they need to go, and maybe also realizing who set that trail, maybe they have smth else going on, who knows) 

holly and maria follow santana and eventually do find the temple, and prepare to stake it out, hopefully hopefully not alerting him to their presence, because that would be.........bad. (tho tbh marias kinda itching to try out vampire begone magic. wouldn't You want to if you suddenly learned how?) neither of them have ever been here so they're honestly pretty floored by the temple interior, the tunnel that leads into the main chamber dark and uninviting, with who knows what hidden dangers are lurking about. 

and then they see him. santana is investigating the place where the pillar had been cut out of the structure, the stone masks crushed and broken, strewn around the floor, running his hands over the broken stone. Then he walks to one of the murals carved into the wall, a large one, similar to the one speedwagon had been investigating, with the 4 faces representing the pillarmen, and he lingers there. dips his head, then walks back to the empty space of the pillar and sits down where it was, crosslegged, and closes his eyes. and then he stays still. what does That mean?? 

the girls decide this is enough, they should fall back and formulate a proper plan, maybe wait for joseph and lisa lisa to catch up. buuuut we can't have that be the end of it, and so something happens, maybe one of them trips? steps on rubble that falls loose? they make a noise. and get noticed. 

change of plans! fight now! except there isn't an attack? they stay still but “i know you're there.” damn it. battle formation, stances ready, they make their way into the chamber, where santana hasn't moved at all. he's still sitting there, but he's looking at them now. holly asks what he's doing here, he asks the same back. she says not to play dumb, hes been killing people this whole time, he has to answer for that! and to that, santana honestly looks a bit confused because. has he? in his defense, he's not human, his prey is humans. pillarboy has to eat.

marias like “well? aren't you going to attack us?” and he's like “not unless you bother me.” and closes his eyes again. the girls aren't sure what to make of this.

santana side paragraph: first of all, this is a santana stan account. name one (1) thing he's done wrong, canonically. woke up in a strange place. captured?? got his bearings, tried to Leave and was accosted! shot some nazis (go king), and finally only snapped when joseph got mad he didn't laugh at his clownery. anyone would get murderous as a result. tried to escape further, ultimately was stopped and detained Again! morally, he's above joseph. 

so they're just standing now. since their earlier encounter where holly used hamon, santana refuses to talk more at first, but holly has the bright idea to get his trust by having maria restrain her and then stand back with her weapon -- a show of putting herself in a helpless position and promise she wont attack. that’s enough for santana to agree to come closer and have a proper conversation.

holly asks again why he's here exactly? what's here? and he tells her that if she Must know, he's waiting. waiting for what, she asks. and maria looks back at the carvings and realizes “oh. there should be 4 of them.” now santana looks mildly uncomfortable, and holly rememebers that “oh fuck, dad killed all of them.” and then “wait they were evil tho??” and then again “wait fuuck, didn't the leader guy say they left this one behind in mexico on purpose? oh man does he Know?” holly finds herself in the position of “not only do i have to tell this guy his friends aren't coming because they're Dead, they also kinda abandoned him.” yikes.

meanwhile maria is kinda pissed that her one chance at revenge might have just been taken from her. she still blames santana for what happened to her brother, and she refuses to let that go. she’s too stubborn and proud for that. and now, especally since holly seems to be focused on creating a bond, it feels like a slap in the face. so she kinda… snaps, ruining their chance at resolving this peacefully and causing santana to run off again. she and holly have a fight. it sucks.

soon after that joseph does find holly and he Does send her home. maria, after explaining her intentions, stays with them. holly is heartbroken :( after shes gone, joseph and lisa lisa make a plan to trap santana, aimed to go off in a few days prep, and during this, maria is starting to realize that that... really isnt the right thing to do... shes now had some time to sit alone with her guilt and regret about how she handled the situation, ssso she gets an idea on how to make up for it...

meanwhile holly is sitting at home and is sad, until suzie drives her somewhere in guise of going to a fancy lunch with smokey (whos in town), but really she drives her to the joestars airpad where her friend marua(!!) is already waiting in front of joseph’s plane, which, turns out, she hijacked in the south and flew all the way up here, and suzie tosses holly a bag with clothes and stuff and tells her to hurry up and get going :3

and hollys all "but what about lunch with mr smokey? :o" and suzie winks at her and says "don't worry, he's waiting for me to tell him everything went well at the restaurant ;)" and then holly gives her a big hug, runs to her friend and hugs Her, and they are off to fly back south to save some lives. on the way, maria apologizes and explains -- how she had harboured this resentment for so long that the sudden target for her blame put in front of her, plus the immediate removal of it were so jarring that she acted impulsively... she knows santana isnt at fault for what happened with her brother... and now she just hopes they make it in time.

as luck would have it, they catch up with joseph and lisa lisa just in time to jump between them and santana (maria accidentally cuts off joseph’s prosthetic hand in the process and freaks the fuck out before realizing it’s fine) and try to talk it out. it’s a tense few minutes, but holly is determined and stubborn, and she manages to get her dad and grandma to see her side of things and santana is saved! they find something for him to eat, giving him the energy to heal his wounds. pillarmen absorbing shit never gets old.

And from there it’s mostly just everything getting settled down and smoothed out. they get back in touch with the swf and tell them the problem is handled. santana turns out to be a relatively peaceful dude when his life isn’t being threatened, and he becomes a good friend with all four of them, but especially holly and maria. they help teach him about the modern world and he decides that he’s going to do some travelling and learn about the history of his culture and other ancient mesoamerican cultures he interacted with in his youth, and he shares the things he learns with the swf so they can get the info about where theyre needed etc.  maria gets hooked up with one of the many therapists we decided work at the swf that has experience with the supernatural things she and her brother have gone through. holly, maria, and santana stay in touch and go on regular trips together. holly receives many post cards.

it’s all really good and happy :) thats heart unbound baybee!! <33

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Forging A Heart (Ivar the Boneless) 5- Replaceable

Pairings: Ivar x Artemis (OFC)

Word Count: 2154

Warnings: Light dream violence?

4- Distaste

...

She could hear herself breathing, her heart rate accelerating at inhuman speed. Her eyes were closed. She was afraid to open them in fear of seeing the horrors of a living hell.

She felt a wetness about her bare feet that seeped between her toes, warm and sticky. The scent of iron was strong in the air. Glancing down she opened her eyes slowly, gagging at the sight of the pools of rich blood surrounding her, as well as the bodies of the holy men thrown about with arrows embedded into them. She stared wide eyed at the massacre, lifting up the hem of her white dress to see it covered in the red of the monks.

The pristine walls of the monestary were covered in the blood of its men that worshipped within its walls. The statues of the saints melt away into the bloody mess on the marble floors, and the gold she had welded with her own two hands were gone.

Artemis let's out a sob, willing the screams in the distance to stop, for the madness to stop...and then there was silence.

Somehow the silence was worse than the screams.

"It is beautiful, don't you agree?" She whipped around quickly, staring into eyes of endless blue oceans that would surely drown her.

Ivar stood tall, looming over her like a great oak tree, a long bow in his hands. Blood streamed down his face and into his eyes, but he didn't seem to care.

To see him at his full height and not crawling about on the ground set a fear in her heart. Before she could do anything, he stretches the bow string as far as he could with a wild grin, releasing the arrow with lightning speed, and then, she saw nothing.

...

"Wake up, you lazy cunt, you're dreaming again!" The hits of the wooden spoon were enough to jolt Artemis into conscienceness. Sweat rolled down her brow and her breathing was erratic. It was still dark out, not yet sunrise.

"There she is, now get up, the Prince's should be waking soon and the hall must be spotless. Wouldn't want Ivar to cut that pretty little face of yours, hmm?"

Artemis rubbed the sleep from her eyes, doing her best to ignore Edda, the head thrall of the household. She was a feisty older woman with an unpleasant tone who had worked under Queen Asluag in the days when the boys were young. She was round, with a build as large as her personality. They must have fed her well these past years. Edda was quite fond of her late Queen and had resented Lagertha, but those were the old days, and a new era was upon them. Perhaps the murder had affected her just as it did the sons.

The main hall had been empty that morning, except for the few slaves that lingered about. Edda, that old hag, had sent her to clean up mess after mess. Artemis supposed that was her main purpose there, besides tending to the crippled prince. Cleaning up messes was tedious, but at least she wasn't forced upon the fortifications of the wall. The monks of Crete served that purpose.

Artemis blinked tiredly, slowly dragging her feet to the hall. It was to her surprise that not much needed to be cleaned and tended to. The brothers had thrown a small feast among themselves, and the remainders of last night hung in the air and draped over Artemis' shoulders like a cloak. Articles of clothing were thrown about, and horns of ale sat untouched on the table. She collected the clothing and cups, passing them off to one of the kitchen maids and the laundress.

She sighs, tending to the hearth before going over to wipe spilled ale off the large table. On the center of the table was what looked like a lute. It was a beautifully crafted instrument, the wood carved to perfection. Patterns were etched on its front with the same strategic lines she had seen carved on the rocks and boulders around the village.

She tossed the cleaning rag to the side, momentarily forgetting her task and letting her fingers brush atop the smooth wooden surface. The wood was soomth to the touch upon her heated fingers, just as she expected. She then passed her fingers over the thin strings that were rough to the touch. She plucked one of them, and the resonating sound made her smile. The sound was a comfort to her, a nostalgic ringing in her ears that made her want to pluck another string just to bring the feeling back.

"Do you play?"

Artemis turned quickly, suppressing a shriek of surprise. Behind her stood one of the princes, Sigurd, who bore a tired smile. When she remained quiet, he stepped forward slowly, ignoring the look she gave him.

"Do you play?" He asked again, this time a bit slower, assuming she didn't understand. He points at the lute. He gave no air of a threat, but Artemis could not be too sure, so she didn't let her guard down. She didn't know this prince as well as the others. Ubbe was sensible and kind, Hvitserk was extremely playful, and Ivar crazy, so where did Sigurd fit into?

She realizes he was waiting for an answer, and she quickly cleared her throat before putting her hands behind her back and setting her gaze to the floor.

"I'm not very skilled, Prince," She spoke quietly but firmly, and almost jerked back when he gently grasped her chin, pushing her face up towards him. Her eyes bore into his odd blue ones and his smile could be described as blinding.

"Your eyes," He begins, "Has anyone ever told you that you have beautiful eyes?"

"No." She replies flatly, shaking herself from his grip.

Sigurd wasn't angry.

He stepped past her, grabbing the lute and plucking a few strings to create a tune. He smiled at her again before handing her the instrument.

"You try,"

She looks at him with uncertainty before grasping the lute, cradling it softly within her arms like a child. She plucked one string, then another, bringing back a tune from deep within her memory.

She remembered her mother was a skilled musician, trying her best to pass on the knowledge to her, but Artemis never really cared for it. She always gravitated towards the work of her father and brother. Her mother always joked that she bore two sons. The thought made Artemis smile as she continued to play, just as her mother had taught her, a lullaby played to her when she was a little girl. It had been so long since she'd heard it, yet somehow it remained fresh in her mind.

She stopped abruptly, fingers hooking over the strings as mixed emotions ran through her. She felt angry hot tears swell in her eyes, blurring her vision. She choked back a sob that threatened to spill from her lips. The memories of her old life resurfaced and hit her like a crashing wave. She fought so hard to keep them at bay.

Overwhelmed, Artemis placed the lute back on the table with shaking hands. She spared a glance at Sigurd, wet eyes revealing the resentment swimming within. It wasn't his fault she was there, but he was associated with the ones who did, and that was enough for her soul to be gripped with animosity.

"Why do you cry?" Sigurd seemed genuinely confused. The idiot. He steps closer, raising a hand in an attempt to dry her tears, but right before she made a move to shift away from his touch again, they were interrupted by a growl all too familiar.

It had grown silent, even the crackling embers of the building fire had grown silent as if fearful.

"Ivar," Sigurd says his name with an annoyed sigh, not bothering to turn around. He knew his youngest brother had the eyes of a vulture.

"What can I do for you, little brother?"

Ivar had the habit of appearing from the shadows unnoticed despite the scraping of the metal buckles round his legs, but he quite liked it that way. He crawls across the floors in an eerie manner as he slowly approached the pair with eyes that was nothing short of murder.

"I just wonder brother," He began softly, continuing to drag himself ever so slowly until he reached Sigurds boots, "I wonder who gave you the authority to touch my thrall, if it was not I who gave the order?" Ivar feigned confusion, lifting himself up to sit at the table. He watched Artemis intently, noticing how rigid her posture was, as if ready to pounce on the defense if need be. Sigurd held his ground as he always did.

"Must I ask permission to command a slave, Ivar?" Ivar hums in response, drumming his fingers harshly against the table that resonated throughout the hall. Sigurd was never a good liar, even now, Ivar could see how his brow twitched, a sign of Sigurd's obvious dishonesty. He had fooled Ivar as a child many times, but he wouldn't be misguided as easily as before.

"Command? This isnt an ordinary slave, dear Sigurd, this is my slave. Would you like it if someone else were trying to toy with your property, hmm?" His tone was condescending, a ploy to bring Sigurd to his boiling point. It had almost worked, and the youngest brother watched with glee as Sigurd moved to react, hands turning to fists, but it was Ivar's slave that reacted first.

"I was never a man's property, not in my homeland, and certainly not here," Artemis growled, hands bawling into fists at her sides. Whatever ounce of fear she had of Ivar had disappeared, as rage clouded her vision. All thoughts of potential punishment had ceased from her mind, nose flaring and eyebrows arched.

She faces Ivar with a hardness in her eyes, shining like pearls ready to be plucked from the sea. Perhaps it was her nightmare that ignited the fire, the image of Ivar ready to kill her was implanted in her mind. Ivar grinned madly, a reaction he was not expecting from her, but a reaction he enjoyed nonetheless.

Sigurd watches on with wide eyes, speechless at her outburst. It was only moments ago in which she almost appeared as a mute. Leave it to Ivar to make even the most silent of persons angry.

"My, how your vocabulary has expanded!" Ivar taunts, "I'm impressed, really," He slams his hand against the table with a loud smack, and the force of the hit sent the lute crashing to the ground, forgotten in the tense silence of the hall. Then he gets deadly serious.

"The fact of the matter is that you are now a slave! To hel with your past life, it does not matter anymore. Here you are nothing but a slave under my command. Relinquish your thoughts of your homeland, you have no use for it here,"

"You are much too cruel, brother." Sigurd sighs, glancing at Artemis before taking a seat across from Ivar. He was in no mood to argue.

"The truth can be quite cruel," Ivar says, glaring at his brother before turning his gaze to Artemis. He brings a dagger between his fingers, the same one he put to her throat only days ago. It seemed to glitter in the light of the fire, as if mocking her mortality.

"Well? Will you not fetch us food? It is nearly time for breakfast," Ivar smiled, quickly driving the dagger into the wood of the table with a hard stab. Artemis, fuming with anger, remains silent. Her hands shook and she felt the heat rising to her cheeks. Sigurd sent her a sorrowful look, but she ignored it, snatching the rag in a tight grip and turning on her heel to exit the hall. How infuriating Ivar was, to constantly express his superiority. He compensates weak legs with extreme pride, and uses fear as a way to control.

Hvitserk and Ubbe walked past to meet their youngest with Margarthe in tow. Hvitserk winks at her as he usually did at but Ubbe's eyes were hard. He grabbed her forearm tightly, succeeding in emiting a squeal from her.

"Obey him, Artemis," She blinked. It was the first time he'd given her some form of scolding, "You may have never been a slave before, but that is what you are now, and that is the path the gods have chosen for you. If you value your life, obey him. You are replaceable."

With that, Ubbe leaves as if no words have been exchanged at all. Margarthe sends her a look as if warning her, but disappeared with her husband and lover into the hall.

Angry tears escape her eyes and she wipes them away furiously. Tears wouldn't help her.

...

@heavenly1927

[lovelessmotel]

hello ma’am may i get one (1) chim whump please (obvs no pressure tho 💕)

(anything for you!!! whump isnt something i do often and this is probably more fluffy then whumpy but i hope it makes you smile)

“Mads, I don’t need help, I swear.”

“That’s not what Hen told me.”

Chim groans, head in his hand as he sits on the edge of the slowly filling tub. Heat curls around the room and fogs the mirror up while Maddie dumps a cup of epsom salt into the bath, swishing it around with her hand.

“Hen’s a worrier-”

“And I’m your girlfriend who is also a worrier, so no complaints. Let me take care of you.”

Chim makes a face, but he knows this isn’t a battle he’s going to win. He stands up slowly, stopping when he can’t seem to lift his arm over his head. Chim grumbles as he struggles, until Maddie places a soft hand on his elbow. “Let me.”

It takes them some time to remove his shirt and the dark bruises along Chim’s chest and arms make Maddie frown.

“God, you really took a spill today didn’t you?” Chim chuckles, but winces at the pain in his side. There’s a large bruise on his right side right on his ribs, a splotchy thing that’s covered in purple and black. There’s more on his back, and one on his hip that’s already turned an unpleasant shade of green. 

“You’d be surprised how slippery a rocky cliffside can be when you aren’t paying attention. It’s what got those hikers in trouble in the first place anyway.”

Maddie reaches down, undoing the button and zipper of Chim’s pants.

“You know, if I weren’t in so much pain I’d think you were coming onto me Miss Buckley.” Maddie rolls her eyes and smiles, helping him shimmy out of the jeans, avoiding the purple bruise that encompasses his knee. 

She reaches for his briefs when Chim groans. “Babe, I can take off my own underwear, promise.” Maddie relents, letting him take care of it himself, but is pleased when he lets her help him into the tub. 

It’s filled to just the right level and he moans softly as the heat envelopes his body and aching muscles. Chim lets his head rest against the wall, enjoying the first bit of relaxation he’s had all day. There’s a large bruise on his shoulder that he wishes he could also submerge into the hot bath, but while their tub was big it wasn’t that big. He’s letting his eyes close when he feels Maddie brush his hair back off his forehead with a cool hand. 

“Ah ah ah, no sleeping just yet. Concussion watch, remember?”

Chim frowns but nods, both thankful for his girlfriends and best friends worries, but also dying to close his eyes for just a few minutes. He’s exhausted and achey and he’s glad that he’s got tomorrow off because doing anything that involves extraneous movement sounds like torture. The bath will help, and so will lots of advil and a nice long sleep. Once he’s allowed to, that is. 

Maddie sits herself down on the floor next to the tub, resting her arm on the edge, propping her chin on her forearm.

Chim runs a hand through the water, skin already starting to prune. “Are you really gonna sit here and watch me the whole time?”

Maddie nods. “Oh you know it.” 

Chim knows better than to argue with Maddie about things like this, when they’ve both done this song and dance before. They’re natural caretakers, both of them, and Chim knows that no matter what he says, Maddie will sit by his side all night. 

“Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Maddie leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to his bruised shoulder.

“Well you have me.” 

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

Ruin

Summary: An attempt to get Roman and Remus to get along fails and leaves Remus reeling. Indulging in a bad habit to try and keep the thoughts away from Thomas leads to Logan finding out, though instead of the ridicule he's expecting, he receives kindness instead.

Warnings: self harm, slight unsympathetic Roman, slight disassociation, hurt with happy ending

Please do not read with the intention if triggering yourself. If you are triggered by self harm I and other authors have others stories for you to read. Stay safe.

Ships: platonic intrulogical, Logan x Remus

WC: 2, 140

"You're just useless! Nothing you do has any purpose other than to torment and I'm so sick of it!"

Remus recoiled from his brothers harsh words, cookies spilled on the floor from where he had swept them away. He had been rather pleased with how vague the penis shape actually was, chocolate chips painstakedly placed so you'd only notice if you looked closely. Roman had looked closely.

Sometimes Remus genuinely couldn't help doing things impulsively; the idea had come to his mind and he had done it without a thought to any possible repercussions and now Roman was mad and it had actually been going well for once but now he had ruined it just like he always did and what if he just stabbed him to get rid of the problem?

The thought came abruptly and without prompt, making him blink back to reality as Roman continued to rant before noticing he hadn't been paying attention.

"But of course you don't care. You aren't even paying attention to a word I'm saying. You ruin everything and I don't understand why I even try!" Ever the dramatic, Roman sunk out with a final huff and throw of his arms, leaving Remus stuck standing trembling in the middle of a mess. No one else was around, leaving the twins alone for "bonding time". Wasn't that a laugh and a half.

'I wonder if the cookies could act like marbles in those old cartoons and I'd slip and fall and crack my head open and-' Drawing a shaky breath his busied himself with cleaning to try and dispell the unwanted thoughts. It was in his nature to be impulsive, brash. He was loud and insistant, truly the living embodiment of Intrusive Thoughts that plagued Thomas' mind when it got to be too much to hold in.

'What if you smashed your hand in the oven?' He turned the oven off and went to grab a broom. 'How hard would you have to fall for a broom to stab through your intestines? How fast would you have to run to stab someone else's?'

Kitchen relatively clean he spun around once more to make sure. 'Just grab a knife. You don't have to use it, just feel it.'

If he sunk out while holding the fridge could he smash Roman with it?

Roman's dark blood staining the carpet an even deeper red.

Remus standing by as the other screamed.

How easy would those screams be to shut up.

How easily would he be to shut up.

Could fascets die? Was it worth trying to find out?

Subconsciously he realized he was walking down the hall to his room, eyed glazed over as the thoughts continued making him feel spacey and fake. He shut the door behind him and stood for what felt like hours, head going everywhere and no where at once until one thought forced him to snap out of it slightly.

'You're going to hurt Thomas. You're going to make him want to hurt others.'

He embodied intrusive thoughts and bad creativity but most of the time those thoughts were just remembering unpleasant sensations or thinking of a crude or out of context joke that would be inappropriate to say out loud. It was random, harmless thought spirals that most of the time you could shake your way out of and Remus simply did whatever random thing there was to do around the mind scape to get rid of excess energy. When he was upset however, the thought spirals grew darker, more suggestive, supplying ghastly images that he wouldn't mind seeing if it was sat in front of a horror movie but as it was...

Persistent thoughts continued to pound through his head, flicking between hurt to angry to apathetic and back before he could breathe. He wanted to hurt something, someone, and he could practically feel the toxic mindset leaching into Thomas' thought process even as he struggled to contain it. He ripped through his desk drawers desperately, everything neat despite his chaotic nature though the desperation rose as hiding spot after hiding spot came up empty. Chewed nails scraped at the underside of the bed frame then groped in the darkest corners of his room. His eyes landed on a small picture frame, a drawing he had done that Janus had framed long ago before any of this had been a problem and quickly went to rip it off the wall.

Taped to the back a small blade glinted passively in the dull light, making his breath hitch in relief as he grabbed it out of its confines. His sleeve went up without a thought until he forced all of concentration on the task at hand.

The first few, well several, cuts were nothing. His skin tingled numbly as straight lines were drawn across it, taking a second or two to well up with blood but by then he had already moved on. Just a small patch, right below his elbow on his outer arm. Thicker skin made for more lines. It wasn't until they began to overlap that he truly felt it, minutes later, stinging and angry and flowing and...

Quiet.

His mind was silent for once. Blissful peace after the turmoil of not ten minutes before hand. The razor fell to the floor as he bit his lip tiredly and stared at the slow growing puddle on the floor. The blood flow slowed, just barely pulsing out with his heartbeat. Looking around reality set itself in place and the slight whooshing in his ears abated just enough for him to hear persistent knocking at the door.

Wait.

Scrambling in a half panic Remus yanked his sleeve back down, letting out a hiss before shoving a blanket to the floor and stumbling over to the door, nearly getting a fist to his face when he got it open.

Logan's startled face quickly knitted into concern as he glanced Remus over, pursing his lips in thought.

"What is it Nerdy Wolverine." His tone was flat but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"I overheard your argument, I thought it would be alright to assume you may need some level of...comfort."

Remus laughed tiredly. "Did Ro not open his door?"

Logan had the decency to look confused. "I don't know, I didn't check."

"You didn't....check on Roman? You came for me first?" It had to be a trick, some idiotic set up Patton had created. Check on the evil twin first to make sure he isnt wrecking havoc then check the better one to be sure he's okay. "Get out."

He slammed the door unceremoniously in the logical sides face, leaning against it heavily.

"Remus." His voice came through muffled. "I assure you I mean well. Roman can be...a lot. I simply wish to make sure everything is alright."

Remus didn't answer.

"Remus I will be frank," and Remus could barely make out the added 'though my name is Logan' mumbled as an afterthought. "I smelled the blood. Either you tell me why or I will come in and figure it out myself."

Swallowing Remus called out weakly. "It was an experiment Google Dex, it's fine."

"The fact that there was not one disturbing punchline in that sentence says otherwise."

"You can't come in."

"I could."

"I might hurt you."

"You won't."

"I'm dangerous."

"You're not."

"You don't know that."

"I do."

"I ruin everything."

"You aren't ruining anything."

"You've said that before. To Virgil"

"Yes. But saying it before to a different person doesn't make the statement any less true."

Remus gripped at his still bleeding arm, knocking his head against the door softly before rocking himself to his feet and stepping back. "Fine."

The door opened and Logan immediately swept the room before settling on first the tipped drawers, then the blanket still heaped on the floor and finally settling on Remus himself. He zeroed in on the arm he was still holding, prompting the darker side to drop it immediately even though it was too late. Silently Logan held out his hand and looked imploringly at Remus, starting him to comply.

"I know. And it's alright Remus it truly is. I just want to help."

Confused but intrigued Rrmus let his hands be taken and tugged to the bed, giving a half hearted eye brow wiggled that earned a small smirk from Logan before he snapped up a first aid kit. He carefully rolled up the sleeve, not even flinching as the mess was revealed to him. Five babywipes and a roll of gauze later his arm was bandaged neatly, causing him to look questioningly at the other.

"How are you so calm about this? You don't"

"No. But I know basic first aid." Logan sat back and looked up at him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Remus looked up and away, tugging his sleeve back down and wincing at the dull ache the action caused. "I made Roman mad because I was being stupid-"

"Falsehood. Try again."

Snapping his head back he opened and shut his mouth before blurting out another excuse. "Roman yelled because I was being impulsive-"

"Nope. Again."

"I was-"

"Remus." Logans tone effectively shutting him up he couldn't help but squirm in confusion. "You didn't do anything. Maybe you could have discussed the....creative take you were going with with your design, but you had split the batch had you not? Roman should have stayed out of what you were doing with yours."

"You were watching?"

"I wanted to make sure no one got hurt. You two tend to become physical and I was there to expel any conflict should it turn violent. I was not however, prepared for a one sided screaming match. Roman has been stressed and while that isn't an excuse it isn't a new occurrence. Why was this-" Logan gestured to his arm. "Done as a stress response? You've argued before haven't you?"

Remus twisted his fingers together. "My head gets loud. And bad. Sometimes I'm afraid I'll make Thomas hurt something, so I hurt instead to calm it for a while."

Logan nodded. "That's perfectly understandable."

"It is?"

"Unhealthy. But yes, understandable. I will ask that you try finding a less destructive way to calm these thoughts. You may think this is helping Thomas but I assure you he'd much rather work with you in a healthy way than you destroying yourself in the background."

Slowly, Remus blinked down at him. "What?"

"I said-"

"I know what you said I just...why do you care?"

Logan stood. "Why wouldn't I? You are an integral part of who we are and as unconventional as you may be at times, you are still apart of the family. I care a great deal."

He said this flippantly, as if it was obvious, completely oblivious to the way it took Remus' breath and heart and soul and made him want to projectile vomit it onto the floor in front of the other man's feet.

"You really care?" Remus blurts out quietly.

"Of course." Logams reply is simple, logical. Clipped but with an undertone that was unmistakably kind even with the impassivity he was attempting to pull off. He sucked in a breath as a hand was extended to him, looking up with a raised eyebrow.

"I thought you might like company, and it might be a good idea to not be in this room right now. Staying in a place of hurt often makes you want to continue the hurt and I'd rather it cease for today."

Hesitantly Remus took the offered hand and followed Logan out the door and into another room lined with books and posters and odd sciencey bits and baubles. He immediately gravitated towards the bookshelf after getting a nod of consent from the owner, plopping down and curling to the side to read the spines. Feeling a nudge he turned and was met with a plate with a few of his cookie creations placed neatly on it.

"Some weren't knocked down and were salvageable. The chip placement makes for a very symmetrical taste experience that I quite enjoy." Remus looked on in amazement as Logan prattled on, taking a cookie for himself and watching Logan take two before sitting down at his desk to eat and work. Grinning to himself he stuffed the rest of the treats in his mouth and bent at a different angle to read book titles again, sharing the silence with the other side contentedly.

He still felt bad and useless and a million other things at once that crawled beneath his skin and raged against his nerves. He looked over at Logan happily munching away at the crude cookie making him smile wider.

He still felt shitty but maybe there were things he didnt ruin after all.

This work and others is available on AO3!

Please do not tag duke don't look.

[misterbitches]

Hello! @flootweed replying to the post from before. the long format was killing me. why does tumblr look like this...

I haven’t watched episode 8 yet...or have I? If it’s the most recent one. No.

Is the hornbill a bird? It probably is but I have a terrible memory and I’m dumb so. I skipped the last few weeks because I’m scawwed. How are you liking it? I did see someone say that the hornbill makes sense (without knowing what it is...at all) bc heart transplant patients only live like 5-15 years after but someone in those comments pointed out that he was so young when he got his and that’s pretty rare so he has a higher likelihood of survival. Frankly, this is the only way I will proceed. Since when did shows ever care about the heart transplant health? Never and it needs to stay that way!

What did we think of ep 6? LMAO. I need opinions! And omg it makes me feel special when I can point things out to people because I so...rarely get to LOL. Editing is like one of my favorite things ever so I can be super particular about it but I try to do the thing you do when you’re supposed to see if it works within its context. I’d like to go in with scissors and glue but alas. 

THe mic covering....the rustling....it’s like guys...please. Ironically the audio today wasn’t great. I don’t know why. IDK if you watch c-dramas but I am not even sure what’s worse between them because they dub their dramas. But actually no it’s best to have the dubbing because even tho it is painful they have to put a lot of effort into it. LOL. 

Right? @ Aey! It’s just weird if they would show us more about what he’s done instead of saying he’s done sth bad and not even explaining that....like you could even do some shitty exposition. I think if he is to be a true villain then we really need to be privvy. All the warnings make it seem like he’s a fuckin’ serial killer so when we get the scene of him at home it’s like....actually this is really serious? Maybe his pain is like...for a reason. Althought you won’t even TELL US WHAT HE’S DONE WRONG BESIDES BE JUST FUCKING WEIRD AND ANNOYING! So from what we have it’s just a realllllllll fucked up sad person lol. god i forgot about the dinner! and i totally agree. he really needs them to succeed. i like your theory because it would make the scene where he like blocks the twitter user make more sense. he also says they dont really know each other etc so it’s realllllyyyyy probable that he just sees it as a way out. if not then we shall pretend u wrote it :)

god yea i wouldnt say it is art but i also guess we technically have to since it is technically. in the way that technically performance artists are artists but mostly i uh technically ignore them. Also one of my fav BLs is called the best twins. If you do not know what it is I will not elaborate further.t 

i want to know more abt poli sci majors lmao but they sound DRAMATIC/ hopefully most ppl in ur cohort arent losers! 

hahahha i understand. there was just a thing on twitter about DSA and then the day before about reading discourse. the same thiings. over. and over. and over. and over. we are our own worst enemies but also our own best friends? but i hate tankies and that wont change. but hasan’s a decent guy. he said sth abt black ppl during biden’s primaries in GA or whatever and i was like chill. but he’s insecure and has adhd which means ur more open to being wrong and changing otherwise u will suffocate and die. 

and totally about hiding fuck ups. i’ve tried really hard bc of organizing IRL to like...be honest, question, etc but also like...approach it naturally? because if you’re trying to be perfect and so worried you’ll fuck up you don’t realize that puts  more stress on you, makes you seem like a robot, and could potentially not make you realize the mistkaes you made. also if we’re privileged in certain spaces there is just no possible way we won’t get something wrong. im light and i know that honestly any way to speak up on colorism is going to be difficult and that’s a space where i have power so i just have to figure it out. we should be uncomfortable because we have to sit with unpleasant feelings and sort through our own whatever. that just makes the next time even better and people can trust u more.  i think some people sweat it sooo much or maybe they think their personal life and what theyve been through is more the norm? on the other hand people can be sf reactionary in the worst way and idk what their issue is. there was also a user who said sth very inch arresting about tankies which i thoroughly enjoyed (how like violent lefitsts or tankies / ppl who are like ooh a gun whatever just want to be violent in another space so they have shit tendencies from jump and nothing of substance which i think i agree with tbh fo ra lottttt of ppl. like their anger is actually like “no im about to beat that ass” instead of what we actually want to get done) 

sort of in the same vein re: taking it easy...we coudl all be more understanding too. to slow it down like you mentioned about not being privvy to fucking eveyrthing and saying anything on our mind. i saw this person talk about y2k which was a huge deal while happening bc it was the turn of the millenium (bruh were u even alive?) but this twitter user grew up in a super super SUPER religious household and was like why do ppl make jokes about Y2K it was insanely traumatizing? though my first instinct was confused ive tried hard to like look more before i judge especially thanks to a friend of mine. turns out that with the further reading the more we found out he was just really traumatized; it was very common in religious households to be afraid of 2000. so we could have come at him with no understanding and he could have thought that everyone had the same experience with that year that he did. his feelings sit precedent though but i think it was just very hard for him to fathom. 

i didnt reply bc he didnt need that and what could i have said? he’ll see what the truth is with exposure and unfortunately this was something he really did go through. 

and that’s what makes most people think others could be over the top. because it sounded ridiculous but then it was this huge traumatic thing that we could have never known about. so maybe when someone sounds like actually crazy they have an explanation? of course some ppl are just batshit or annoying but that’s anywhere not just leftists it’ just means more i guess when a ~~librul is annoyed~ but it can be easy to want to make fun of ppl too. lmao.  basically what i am saying is the internet? especially twitter? for leftists? in this economy? bitch it’s the wild west out here.

i am 29! idk if i said it or not. i am OLD u probably werent even born in the year i was talking about wah. i know not old-old or old at all but compared to you i’m due for a colonoscopy.

omg i hope u can get vaxxed soon! are you wfh rn? i hope ur also not in a bad state as in state state not state as in ur being :| bleh what a fucking time. it sucks that you have to fucking do work. well unless u like school. which i hope u do. i just assume everyone hates it cos i did lmao

was it the lindsay ellis drama? that bitch is dumb. if there was other drama oh wait the drama i was referring to it all happened on the same day. idk book twitter that well but i saw something from someone who was abt that shit and wowie! the american people are not that.....intelligent to put it lightly.

i’ll get better. ppl tell me they miss me and im like aw. i have insanellllyyy bad insomnia and a lot of stuff happened this year HOWEVER I SLEPT FOR TWO DAYS FOR 8 HOURS AT A REASONABLE TIME. im a new woman.  anyways you too! i hope ur not too burnt out with school. we just dont know when the burnout is or we just dont know we are burnt out until we are. the panaramiciccici hit and all the things i was ignoring kind of just fell on me and sooo much happened at once. and frankly it’s hard to take care of ourselves. lord. 

Like if you aren’t interested in expanding on the issue in a way that hasn’t been done before all you gotta do it like… spread resources and donate if you can. I dont see the point in having to say something about every issue especially if you (not at you specifically just in general) aren’t immediately impacted by the issue. Like is the 14 yr old white marxist named sarah on twitter really gonna have meaningful insight on anti-asian violence ?

this is part of why i cannot telecommunicate. i dont want to do shit on the internet. i am able bodied so i know that this time has been of such ease for other people. but mentally i just can’t. i don’t have a comment on hand like that and i hvae no desire to engage with ppl that way. i am a super super super solitary person but thats bc it’s MY time so when it’s like all this effort with other people i dont ever want to be alone. it’s the same with the way i approach filmmaking. it isnt a sole thing so i hate it not together. that’s part of how u can get so sucked in and repeat doom scrolling. i was in this webinar last may after [redacted] and this black woman prof said “read with a community and talk” because otherwise she said we are torturing ourselves. you can’t carry that weight all on your own. unfortunately i hate zoom, discord, slack, signal, whatsapp, facetime. you name it this panera has made it evi.. L

you make a really excellent point. i think the young young gen zers are really really just interesting because it’s like this whole new world for them with leftist politics and they just can’t grasp the horrors of the world and the kind of freedom being a leftist can bring. and so many people don’t grow out of it. those people so happen to be the “least productive” in terms of how much time they spend IRL withe these issues. naturally, younger kids are gonna have a harder time. they are not as mobile as well so the internet becomes this place. but then it’s this echo chamber. and many times just things posted without sources. and social media NEEDS that to exist.

i think of the irony of leftist kids on tik tok and while i am happy it’s reaching them it’s just....different. very different. the growth of social media is so good but also so fucking sad, it’s too much! i think the point about not writing everything is major. even i have to do this which is part of the disappearing.y ou need to detach and make sure your head is on straight again. but when you think eveyrone has to be privvy to every thought and you can’t just sit back....which twitter and social media doesn’t encourage. you have to join in. that’s often why when i have something to say it is dense because i don’t feel like repeating it. ever. lmao ust ever. i cant pay attn. social media is a fucking minefield for my brain u can get so lost in it and absorb it but once u start talking you may not be able to stop. 

i think a big part of that is it not being a leisurely thing but sort of just in our lives always. this sounds like a grandpa rant but ykwim. We dont have to see the same thing over and over again. And eventually it gets sincerely diluted or its diluted bc of capitalism or whatever. Or if theyre very young or maybe they don’t have like the greatest way of sharing the knowledge? then it can be butchered. I hope this is making sense...i’m talking beyoond the boring surface-level milquetoast shit. i see really ahistorical stuff on there from leftists (like this thing about NK + africa and it being a beneficial rship as opposed to a um not beneficial one. and it isn’t.  beneficial but this young black girl was talking abt it and noname rtd and i was like it’s just too complex. there’s no good/bad here just bc it’s not america. dont get me started on this.)

but Lol that was kinda off topic but I think what I meant in my last reply about not turning off the voice in my head is about when I consume media, not necessarily when I’m online talking about. Even if I have criticism for something, I’m usually pretty chill when consuming fandom content bc I think being serious online all the time is kinda boring. Like sometimes I’m analyzing theme and shit but really most of the time im memeing.

exactly.........gotta laugh. thats why sometimes im like i cant think lmao. unfrotunately i have been ARGUING with ppl on the internet for rly no reason when  i could have replied to ur very nice fun wholesome message. i love torture. i miss memes.

“ i think the people who get the least enjoyment out of that are those so obsessed with getting upset with anyone thinking outside of their lines as if it equates to them “ EXACTLYYYYY

kekekekeke im glad u got it. it’s like with conservatives throwing around snowflake. now im beginning to question who the real complainers are. 

LMAO exactlyyyy. i posted a screenshot of this writer from twitter saying that exact thing. Like first of all, I’m...an adult? and if you are as well uh? i’m sorry for you but are we 12? But how is it affecting u this viscerally? And if it does why dont u...do...research? pihgofuaipoajghou but honestly everything u said. we’re trained to go into it with nothing. i was only around ur age when i started to get more serious about this stuff but you’re like lightyears ahead of where i was at 21. did i say this but i’m in iww and literally i can tell u in 2016 i did not think 2019 me would be in a union bc i told my friend in a train station that we don’t need unions. i was 23...but the thing is i didnt know what i was talking about. at all. and i knew i didnt know and she knew i didnt know and now i am the clown.

also yes at critical engagement. i had to learn so much through experience and this is tuff that i coudlnt be shielded from. there’s an empathy you kinda have to develop and this understanding that you move through the world as this person who is “nowhere and everywhere; nothing and everything” so i’ve always had to think about things differently just to survive. that’s also what can drag a lot of people towards it like theres so many black kpop fans bc i think a lot of the pain in SK can be mirrored (sort of) through our history. and theres currently a history now but it had to be forged. uh what was my point oh yea however i wouldnt have been able to move further if i didnt have my background to go off of  bc i knew something was off when i started getting into all these things (ill give u a hint) but if i had no prior knowledge and didnt have to think about it then the critical approach is either stale or stupid. 

i had to research but i dont understand how ppl are so bold with little to no research and understanding? thhey just inherently know with also like ZERO experience in what they need experience in. engaging critically means “how i see the world” with dashes of trying to be open adn understanding or whatever. actually that’s another thing like being afraid of criticizing things bc theyre foreign to you so u give it a pass (like we discussed) but it doesnt hAVE TO BEEEE JUST REAAAAAD and then take all the info ur teensy brain and apply it. be a normal human being and dont be fucking rude and racist. thats it! u can complain abt literally anything without being a dick.

as we start with LW and end with LW.....what do we think (i asked this already) omg please share wbl thoughts i THINK i know what ur talking about. well it could be two things; their rship when they came back and the physicality and then pei shou yi. i almost dont even want to use my brain to fucking look at that. i think wbl can get away with more bc of visual~*~*~* reasons (like literally, the look of the show. there’s more space to get lost in the frames. many thai dramas are a lot more literal? this isn’t the right word but it’s very heavily character focused particularly bc of $ i think) though good production also underscores flaws so i am also wrong. but like do u know what i mean? u have to kinda focus on it? or maybe it’s just cos like.....ur so used to it in thai bl idek. i’ve seen tw bl ofc. 

look i swear i will justify this forever bc there are some things we miss right but if u feel like someone’s a bad actor....theyre bad. it’s about tone movement etc etc etc and since most thai bl productions have 0 interest in that....well. they take these newbies and put them in these situations. we dont understand thai but if we see them and we’re like “wow this is really bad” then they’re bad lmao. IDC i will never be like cos idk what theyre saying NO WHY HE LOOK LIKE A ROBOT???????? DOES HE EMOTE? why is he CRYING WITH NO TEARS? and it’s not even a total requisite to cry with tears(i mean for me it is) but it’s just like what is happening on ur face right now young man????????

painful.

the inflection stuff is very valid ooh good point tho but that’s only a part of the piece. plus we get used to the way they communicate. like the ppl from sotus were prtty bad. i dont like that show but thats an ex of ppl liing the actors and the person i thought was better other ppl dont think that? well apparently hes a shitty guy but. um. so when theres decent acting its so glaring.

although i must say even tho i dont care for 2gether anymore and would never like to be reminded about its existence (only bc i just cringe lol) i honestly....didnt think bright was a bad actor? but people keep saying he is and i am much more inclined to believe them than myself. though i am not often dickmatized that could have been it. until he opened his mouth and ruined it and then i stopped paying attn.

although honestly i’m so much more critical than i could be positive. i have ben stumped for the last day about how i wasnt mad at his acting in the show. is it me? is it him? who’s......the wrong one.....(me) 

oh shit they have been denied? i haven’t been paying attn to whats been going on recently. i just got into it on MDL because of snowdrop. sometimes i literally cannot engage bc ill just be like alright well im black so this power button in my head is going off when ppl talk abt that shit. back in the day when kpop jawns were saying some real outta pocket anti black shit (now everyone is slick with it) it’d always be THEY DONT HAVE GOOGLE THEYVE NEVER SEEN A BLACK PERSON but really it’s like no...maybe they are just racist? that’s ok too.

also the past 2 weeks have been um atrocious bc how fucking easily people fell into the pit of white supremacy and started to turn their ire towards black people and making a competition between our groups just like they wanted. it’s not about the women who are dead anymore, who were sex workers, their womanhood, being asian, being poor anymore. it’s about how much black people get attention and why people only pay attn to us. i am not feeling very generous this week for ppl to excuse that hsit.

on a lighter note, ppl say that abt the whole husband and wife thing. i dont know how to explain how angry that shit makes me but maybe it’s because i do not want to think of my body in relation to a fucking penis at all hours of the day. if bls could kindly not do that it would be nice lmao 

yes there are a lot of those. who are only there to gawk lmao. and just idk worship bc of the cult of personality thing bc of how weird and open they have to be as actors. some of the others are people who /think/ theyre really smart (i think im asmart but i also think i am very dumb and i have adhd to prove that MEDICALLY!!!) but are actually not? or their observations arent great? or idk if they are they arent interesting? but i think well..........we have more refined palettes :P

jk also theres just different personalities. you and  i mesh more bc we have a lot of the same beliefs and are coming from the same place. that makes it easier to understand as well. i really try to remember that but some people are really weird so. again just...the perception of certain things even down to acting skills. but i also dont like.......believe this genre can really do anything at all. on one hand i want them to do it right bc it’s a piece of work so they should. be proud of it. cos most things arent advancing us bc representation and culturalism are a lie bla bla. it’s just that when the depictions are negative or not done well it adds to the problem as opposed to the things that are well done are fairly benign and can’t really pull us back (perf example is the black panther film. i woudl definitely not say it was transgressive as a literal work but visually it’s just stunning. and it’s sad that it’s stunning and surprising but still with basically an all black cast of mostly dark people abd like what it means in the zeitgeist yes. it’s also just a good movie. but it’s still imperialist prop and unfortunately and this is fucking pathetic to say it “opened eyes” in other countries where they hate black ppl and ignore their own racialized minorities HENNYWAYSSSS a better ex is moonlight except moonlight isnt mainstream and is indie tho...still thru a funnel of capital bc a24 but who cares bleed the fuckers dry is my motto. my point is moonlight is both a great work and doesnt bring any failures to the table and its existence helps in ways outside of art but they arent the defining things giving us material advancement sooooo i mean it’s complex (this is my conclusion to everything um guys it’s complex) 

er i had one more point in conjunction to above. oh yea so i like dont need all these extra things to make it progressive. like people really want more women in the show and i am honestly like i really dont. i dont want them to actively do this. if they cant do it naturally then let someone else do it. i am not asking for more bc i dont want it from them. when something comes along i embrace it but i do not see why women should be represented when the genre RELIES on patriarchy. there is no complete satisfying existence for the women in these series. i dont want it. i dont ask people to show us~*~* or respect~* like fuck no the people who make it make it and hopefully more will make it in the future but i will not beg bc THEY DONT WANT TO DO IT SO WOULD FORCING IT MAKE IT BETTER? just fucking leave them out entirely. that’s the answer if theyre gonna make nasty female characters then those bitches can geaux. we have other plcaes to be. booked. and. BUSY!

[sunflowersunshinevol6]

Hello Harry

Part 2

Pairing: Harry Styles x Fem OC

Warnings: smut, prostitution, infidelity

A/N: hope you all enjoy this. Feedback always appreciated

-Shay

Part one

Camille's in the kitchen when he gets home. The moment he sees her the guilt he has felt plaguing him the whole drive home disappears, replaced with the hurt and anger yet again.

"Welcome home baby," she says cheerfully, as if she hasn't a care in the world. She comes to him, arms open, only to give a confused 'hmm' when he rejects her arms.

"We need to talk." He says flatly. She can tell something's wrong.

"Anything baby-"

"Don' call me tha'." He snaps. He sighs, rubbing his hand over his face, trying to figure out how to have this conversation. :I met Marie today." He uses her fake name, wondering if she had ever told Camille her real one. From the look on her face he can tell she never did.

"Oh...Harry please let me-"

"Why weren't you honest with me?"

"What could I say? That I paid a prostitute to teach me how to please you? Do you realize how humiliating that is?"

"If you wanted tips you could have read a fucking Cosmo for fucks sake Camille! You paid her to teach you tricks. Did you really do that for me or-" he can't bring himself to say it, his whole body rolling with rage, his hands shake at his sides, eyes burning with unshed tears.

"Harry." She reaches up but he jerks just out of her reach. "Harry it was for you...I never....I would never-"

"I'm moving out." He says flatly, surprising even himself. "I can't....I can't be here." He pushes past her towards the bedroom they once shared, painful memories of love and laughter, intimacy fill his mind as he packs a bag and throws it over his shoulder.

"Harry please dont do this," she begs as he walks towards the door. The slamming of it as he leaves his final word on the matter.

He doesn't really have anywhere to go, not at the moment. But he knows the motels around the place well enough to find somewhere to sleep. Or not sleep as the case may be. He can't really imagine resting right now, he feels too much to let go of wakefulness.

He can't really see being with Camille anymore, even though he still loves her, he can't look at her without thinking of Prudence, of what she's paid her for.

And what he has paid her to do.

He feels...not bad about it, his relationship was over before he paid a stranger to blow him. But he feels weird, like there was more to it, something about their meeting that wasn't finished when he found out the truth about Camile, and came down Rudi's throat. Something that hung there in the air after they'd said goodbye.

Rudi.

Where the hell did that come from?

Harry flips a thin motel pillow over his face, blocking out the flashing neon.

Sleep.

Sleep. Now.

Fuck.

Doors bang along the balcony of the motel the ice machine rumbles to itself and cars howl past on the freeway. Harry flips onto his front and buries his face in the stale bedding, the sheets itch at his naked back. He misses his bed, but missing that leads to missing other things. His home, his girl, his entire previous existence.

He wishes he'd gone for a place with a mini-bar. If he's going to be this pathetic he might as well be drunk.

Voices cross the walkway outside of his room. He cracks an eye at the clock on the wall – 4 am. The voices get nearer, a deep rough voice, taunting and cruel.

"C'mon Jezebel...come here..." indistinct shuffling and the bang of a thin door crashing against the wall in the room next to his own. Great. A lighter thud as someone, presumably the 'Jezebel' in question – "How much? How much for you...like this?" A man growled almost against the the paper thin walls "You suddenly worth more? Someone been filling your head with nonesense?" the laugh again. "Get on your knees, two hundred girl, you're going to work for it." Harry officially gives up on sleep at the first moan.

It's unpleasant, the guys voice is like a raspy like he smokes too many cigarettes. He keeps up a steady commentary, barking the occasional 'Faster' or the slightly more unpleasant 'God like that, fuck' which ruins about eight of Harry's childhood memories. After a long long time, the strangled groans of appreciation grown in both volume and frequency, ending in a growled out 'Fuck!' and then, blissful silence until...

"Swallow."

Harry wishes for death, or at least alcohol, now with more sincerity than before. He really should have factored in cheap hotel = hookers and loud sex. Clearly he wasn't thinking. Since he's going to be awake he figures he might as well stop pretending. He noticed a coke machine at the end of the walkway earlier and so he gets up, flicks on the TV and pulls on his pants, searching for change. He's ducking out the door when he hears it, on the walkway.

"Not worth two hundred, was it Jezebel" the voice has gotten, if anything, more unpleasant. Pressing and dangerously low. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Nothing you haven't paid for." Replies a a sharp and annoyed tone. Harry freezes, because it isn't a bimbo's voice, it's Prudence.

Small fucking world huh?

"You should only be using that mouth to suck my dick." Snarls the man.

Harry opens the door, telling himself that this isn't his business, but that he has to intervene.

A man, a little taller than Prudence, but thicker with muscle and wearing the long dark coat and expensive suit of a businessman has her backed against the railing just outside his door. Prudence is bravely trying not to shiver in the night air, despite the fact that it's drizzling and she's still in the thin T-shirt and jeans she was wearing earlier.

"Can I help you?" the asshole snaps. Prudence looks at Harry with faint surprise and perhaps a trace of relief.

"No but..." Harry's mind works quickly. "well...'Jezebel' and I? We have an outstanding appointment...don't we?" he tries to be gross and sleezy, slightly smirking, hoping he's pulled it off. The guy looks at him a moment longer, then backs away, scoffing.

"This bitch isnt worth it." He confides, he slaps Prudence's ass, causing her to flinch, jerking away.

Harry ignores him, waiting instead for the man to leave, getting into a silver BMW on the other side of the parking lot.

"You ok Rudi?" Prudence frowns at the name but nods, a smile curving her mouth but not reaching her eyes.

"Yes, thank you...I always expect the worst from Benjamin."

"He seems like a dick"

Harry doesn't really know what to say to that. Because sleeping with reasonable, nice person is one thing, getting shoved around by vicious pricks at the break of dawn in a sleazy motel...he feels sorry for her.

"You want to...I don't know, come in, for a while?" She pauses, hesitating on the walkway. "Not for...just to get it together? I'll give you a ride home if you want."

A genuine smile, small but bright, spread across her face.

"Thank you Harry"

It's a little awkward. She stands just inside the doorway, the tv on low, the glowing light illuminating her face with shadows. Harry can see she's shivering.

"You can use the blanket if you wan'" he says, gesturing towards the bed. She smiles with gratitude, not saying anything she walks over to the bed, pulling the cheap duvet up and around herself. Harry clears his throat. "I'm sorry...I don't know what to say."

"It's alright. You don't have to say anything." Harry nods, a thick knot growing in his throat, he swallows hard, thinking about her mouth, the way she had worked him to release earlier, his lip twitches. She seems to sense where his mind is going.

"Do you-?" She doesn't finish. He knows what she's asking.

"No. No I'm okay." He mentally slaps himself. He doesnt want to be that guy. He won't be.

"You don't have to be a gentleman."

"I take it you're not used to that?" She shrugs.

"Some of the guys are nice. The women can be sweet sometimes....but it's like a facade. They don't want to 'be like the rest' they play a game but we both know what they're there for and after a few minutes it's all the same."

"Why do it? I mean...do you enjoy it?" His cheeks heat up awkwardly. He's not sure why he's asking her this.

"Are you asking because of our encounter earlier?" Shit. She caught him.

"You seemed pretty into it." She smiles, laughing lightly. It's nice, helps him relax a bit.

"I was. It's rare that I get to enjoy myself like that but....it's more of a job to pay for what I really do."

"And what's that?"

"I paint." This surprises him. He never expected that she could be....so normal. Is that the right word. "My dad....he always encouraged me to follow my heart."

"Does he know what you do to support yourself?" She shakes her head.

"No. My dad....we havent talked in a while." The way she says it leaves no room for more questions. She shuts down the conversation. Harry nods. Rudi lays back, opening the duvet to him. "Do you mind if I sleep here? Just for a few hours? I'm exhausted. I promise to keep my hands to myself." He chuckles, laughing for the first time in what felt like ages.

"A few hours." He agrees. He lays down, making sure to keep his distance as best he can. He stares at the ceiling, listening to her as she quickly falls asleep. He turns his head. She looks peaceful, the dark shadows under her eyes standing out against her skin but she almost looks like a child sleeping soundly. It doesn't take him long to follow suit, falling into fitful slumber.

[adonis-koo]

Missy :( I cant send you messages anymore. Anyway. I read Tease 16. Had to reread it tn bc of how negatively it affected me. Imma sum up some stuff. I. Diego with MC: fucking kill me 2. JK saying he loved MC when with Eva, Win. But strangle hold on his past -WHAT? Also in admitting MC love, I hope JK doesnt get hurt with his revelation. Also, his off limit thing? Intimate kissing? 3. MAIN THING: MC was anally raped by Diego. (More to come)

+ Why is JK not more affected? She was in that ordeal for at least 10 minutes while continuously crying out and sharing her pleads and safe words just for it to stop hurting. Does JKs head just not go that far? I feel people arent looking into it as much. All im picturing is myself crying while im anally raped and how horrific the pain and experience are. I KNOW MC is feeling the same. But it feels so swept under the rug. Could you just help me please make sense of the anal rape in this story

First and foremost I really am sorry this chapter affected you so negatively baby, it’s a lot of heavy subjects! During the draft I actually wrote out MCs smut scenes (albeit they weren’t depicted as harshly as this), and I decided to not as it just made me uncomfortable thinking about it in this context. Please feel free to skip any scenes that trigger anything unpleasant love! 🖤

Now as for Jungkook not being heavily affected- or at least showing it. Truthfully, I didn’t intentionally plan this but the more I look at his story as a whole, it makes sense that while this is upsetting, in a way, Jungkook is rather desensitized. I can’t go into details for multiple reasons pertaining to the plot but let’s just say he’s desensitized to sexual harassment as a whole. Is it upsetting?

Absolutely, but when Jungkook gets upset, he gets upset. And if it’s over something he’s powerless over, Jungkook would rather give what physically and emotional energy he has left after his own long night to comforting MC, as you said, she’s had a horrific night and she needs his support, rather then possibly stress her out further with threats of killing Diego Jungkook chooses to spend what’s left of his energy comforting her as best he can. So in a way, yes, Jungkook doesn’t think that far, because the moment he does is the moment he’ll lose his cool.

If you’re asking me to make sense on why I put it in the story; I don’t really have an intricate reason. The thing about assault, dub/non con or rape is that in real life, Theres rarely ever a reason it happens. It just happens and it’s disgusting. Part of the reason I chose this to happen was to really emphasize the reality of what they as strippers are dealing with at Seasonella and MC isn’t an exception, that this isnt okay. That, if MC didn’t have reason before to want Seasonella to get shut down she sure as hell does now. Again, this doesn’t really serve any purpose. I never want to use something like dub con or rape as a plot device in my fics. These are real traumas that many people struggle with.

As I’ve said in previous asks, the line of consent is heavily blurred in her implied scene with Diego, she definitely didn’t consent to it, but she never told Diego no. She very easily could’ve, but somewhere inside her brain, she chose to just grit her teeth and deal with it. She never gave him a safe word to use if things became to much. Maybe it was the shock? Some people feel like it was just her stupidity. Who knows. Some even consider it rape. It’s up to the readers interpretation of the scene. But I will say; this will definitely leave some sort of trauma with MC.

Maybe it doesn’t affect her everyday life, maybe she can still easily have sex with Jungkook. But it’s still there, it’ll still haunt her in those silent moments in the dark. It was excruciatingly painful and that’s something she’ll never forget. Seasonella is an arc that was intended to shine a darker reality on sex workers lives, for this story at least. It’s not all fun and games. People get hurt, people get assaulted. While I wrote this arc for other reasons this was one of many.

[janustrash1]

my sides (masterpost)

hey, sorry that i haven't been posting at all recently. life has taken a bit of a slip downhill and things like my sleep schedule have been really out of wack.  to make up for it i’ve decided to talk about and introduce you guys to some very special characters of mine. my sides.

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before i introduce them, i’d like to talk about what they mean to me.  i got really into sanders sides at a very low point in my life. at this point i already had four characters that i considered my version of the main four sides. they didnt represent anything yet. i only knew that each of them were my version of a respective side. i had also started counselling at this point, and ended up talking to my councillor about sanders sides and how much i love the show and the dynamic. she encouraged me to take these characters and break them down into their essentials. making my first four sides. 

i would talk to my sides whenever i needed to figure something out. i was able to take the multitude of thoughts going through my head and divide them off into things that each side was saying. this made everything much easier to manage in my head as it was basically the equivalent of talking to friends. however a year passed and a new train of thought started occurring. i tried applying it to an existing side but that didnt work so, i made a new one, my fifth side. 

more recently, around the start of this year, i started having some, unpleasant, things happen with my mental state. i would hyper focus on too many things at once, meaning that i got little to no work done, i started having worsening intrusive thoughts, and i just all around felt a bad presence. once again, none of my sides were the ones causing this so, a new onw was made. my sixth and as of writing this, newest side.

my sides are a genuine coping mechanism for me. i have a rare profile of autism that makes it hard to understand my own emotions, and the sides help with that. they also act as someone i can tell everything to, and just generally help me feel less alone from time to time. im putting a lot out here to share a secret that i keep from most with the world, i would appreciate it if you guys would treat me just the same as always.  side note: yes my sides have different genders and some arent the same as me biologically. they are made like this to capture how some of these aspects of me can sometimes be more prevalent depending on how i present myself. it also just made sense to me. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

anyways, now that we know where they came from. i would like to introduce you to them. first up, The four Main sides

Opal (Optimism)

opal is probably the happiest side in the mindscape. she represents my happiness and excitement, as well as some of the content and calm feelings, often relating to my image. before Allison, she was the one to offer words of encouragement when things slipped up. some of the sides refer to her as “Mom” and Allison will often just call her “Wife” Opal wears a lot of pale pink and soft greys, not really one for bright or bold colours, she has an assortment of different headbands and bows but is most often seen wearing a pink cat ear headband. she is a Pan Cis Woman and uses She/Her pronouns

Ray (Reasoning)

Ray represents everything about me that doesnt revolve around my imagination, as well as some things that do. they are my sense of reasoning, there to talk me out of an impossible situation and ground me back to reality. they are here to make plans and help me stay physically and mentally well in the most efficient way possible. i would say that they are the most like a canon side out of all of them, having an uncanny resemblance to Logan as far as function is concerned. they are the “left brain” of the sides. they wear a light blue polo shirt, keeping the collar in place with a neatly knotted scouts neckerchief. they are the only side to actually wear glasses, even though i myself need them but often dont wear them. they are biologically genderless and use Them/They pronouns.

Cameron (Confidence)

Cameron is the most eccentric of all the sides, constantly bellowing his ideas in the most sing-songy, theatrical voice. he is the brightest and most determined, constantly suggesting new and “foolproof” plans to get big and become famous. unfortunately, these “foolproof” plans are often made by a fool. He doesnt always see the bigger picture, much like Opal, he always keeps his eyes on the prize, to such an extent that he often skips steps in his plan. he often wears fancy blue jackets, but his more casual wear is a royal blue button up over a white t shirt. He is a Cis man who uses He/Him pronouns. 

Percival (Paranoia)

Percival, or as we all call them, Percy, is the most quiet and reserved out of all of the sides, only kicking off when something could go wrong. when they were first created, they would do this constantly, however as time has progressed they have realised how this can be a hinderance more than a help, and has taken to not really speaking unless necessary. they are one of the ImagiSiblings, along with Ivory, they were temporarily separated as i got older however, and now they are quite scared of what ivory has become and will keep their distance when possible, but has shown that they very much can still be a brilliant older sibling to the younger side. they are often wrapped in a red blanket, with a black long sleeved shirt and leggings poking out from underneath. when they have to leave the house however, they throw on a red plaid hoodie and a black facemask, a new addition to their wardrobe. they are also biologically genderless and use Them/They pronouns.

now, my fifth side, created around a year and a half after the main 4

Allison (Protection) (Formerly Anger)

Allison was first created as a way to filter out some of the more angry and violent thoughts in my head and make sense of them. they never really seemed like the violent type, more like a protective mother, a role that they very much fulfil better, therefore they were recently changed and allowed to focus more on protecting me and my friends. they have a lot of.... violent suggestions, but they do genuinely care for me and  often stay up with me during sleepless nights, helping me get through the following day. they often wear an oversized blue shirt under an even more oversized black cardigan with a black trilby/fedora hat, sometimes switching the hat out for a plain beanie in the winter. they also carry my headphones in case i need a reminder that i always have music as a way to control my thoughts. they are an AFAB Demigirl and uses Them/They pronouns with female titles (miss, mom etc.)

and finally, my newest side, created around march of this year

Ivory (Impulse)

Ivory was created to explain the constant creative itch i get whenever there are too many ideas. they started off as a sweet, excitable child, but are quick to change when they dont get their way. they are able to shapeshift and will sometimes become threatening and scary if the creative itch isnt met to their standards. they are also the source of most of my intrusive thoughts, often thinking that their suggestions will help. overall they are probably the most dangerous side and we still do not know much about them. their clothes often change but one thing that always remains is a jacket that i actually own covered in various embroidery and collected patches. sometimes this will be worn over a simple t-shirt, sometimes over a black button up. they are the youngest of the sides, being around 10 physically. im not yet sure of their gender  but they seem to like Them/They pronouns

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and there you have it. theres my sides. it honestly feels good to have written this all down and have it in a convenient place to be able to show people. i hope you like them just as much as i do, if you have any further questions feel free to send me an ask or re-blog this post.

thank you so much to any of you who have read this far, i really appreciate it.