#expect this to be gross in future chapters

[shrimpybbq]

Blessing in Disguise (2)

Abstract: A war-torn Gwayne is presented with an opportunity when the dragon of a Targaryen Princess is shot down near his camp. A once devout follower of his Knight's oath, Gwayne no longer sees much point when Criston Cole gifts him Princess, his only requirement being to keep her alive. The Hightower Knight has suppressed his own urges for so long, but now, he no longer wishes to, not when he's been given a sweet Princess just for himself.

Warnings: abuse of power, prisoner/captor dynamics, gross men, restraints, Gwayne is growing more delulu, future dubcon/noncon (not proof read)

Author’s Note: this chapter is seriously diving into just how much Gwayne is loosing it, and building up his motives and morals. He thinks of himself as a saviour and all his actions are rooted in this need to keep protecting the Princess.

Tag List: @torchbearerkyle @beautifultacodragon

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Two days had passed since the Princess was captured, and two days had passed since Gwayne had been given the responsibility of keeping her alive. For the first day, he’d faced little trouble as the still unconscious girl slumbered in his tent, her frame draped across his own makeshift bed. The turmoil was rife within the knight however; for he knew little of what to do with the girl. To keep her hidden away in his tent for the rest of the campaign seemed cruel, but letting the Princess roam around the camp was a risk that could bring doom to the army. While he didn’t know for certain of her likely reaction upon waking, Gwayne felt that the Princess would not take kindly to her newfound position as captive.

The second day helped the knight make up his mind, for the Princess began to rouse herself from her state. He’d been eating the claggy paste they called oatmeal when movement caught his eye from across the tent. With sluggish movements, the girl pushed her weak and frail body up to a somewhat seated position as her eyes took in her surroundings. Gwayne found the confused expression on her face amusing, but sighed deeply as her eyes widened in alarm upon laying her sights on the Hightower Green of his doublet and the red of his hair. He watches as she begins to sputter and gasp as she tries to speak, but despite her best efforts, her brain fails to deliver a coherent question to the knight.

“You are in no position to run, or much less even argue, so I suggest you still yourself whilst I explain the predicament you’ve found yourself in,” Gwayne’s lilting voice cutting across the tent, his words stilling any movement from the Princess. Though he’s attempted to make his tone lighter, it’s clear that his tone carries a subtle warning.

The Princess nods softly before speaking, her voice hoarse and croaky due to disuse, “Wh-who are you?”

She fears she knows and yet some part of her hopes that perhaps it has been a case of mistaken identity - that this man across from her, whose tent she lays in, is not the brother to the Queen Dowager.

“Ser Gwayne Hightower, Princess.” It’s all he says. Gwayne notices the crestfallen expression on her face deepen, her fingers beginning to play with the threads of the blanket. “Your dragon was slain after it flew above our territory, the scorpion striking it down with great accuracy. It was not expected that Rhaenyra would have sent her only daughter on dragonback and yet, there you were.”

“M-my drag-”

Gwayne doesn’t let her speak and instead continues his recounting. “Criston Cole made the decision that your life should be spared. He wishes to use you as tool to garner your mother’s surrender, and in turn, has granted you the most esteemed opportunity of a true camp experience.”

The sweet Princess can only listen silently and a small twinge strikes at Gwayne’s heart as tears begin to fall down her cheeks. He lets her process his words, scraping the last remnants of his oatmeal from the wooden bowl. When she says no more, the knight moves to leave the tent when a timid voice stops him in his tracks.

“What will you do with me?”

The Princess watches the man freeze, his broad back tense and rigid. He stays near the entrance, arms clutching the fabric of the tent as he seems to ponder his answer. She had heard stories of the honourable Ser Gwayne Hightower and yet, chills crash over her at his next words.

“Whatever I so wish, I suppose, as long as your heart still beats in your chest.”

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That night the princess remains in his bed, her hands bound and tied to the wooden post holding up the tents fabric. He’s given her some tether, at least allowing her to relax her arms and continue to rest. The Princess had almost drifted into an unpeaceful slumber when a rustling sound echoed around the tent, and a disheveled Hightower strode through the entrance. She had little time to process his intentions as the knight flung off his boots and undid his doublet, leaving him only in his trousers and tunic, watching wide-eyed as he stalked over to the makeshift bed.

“What are you doing?!” The princess shrieked as Gwayne lowered his body next to hers, the flimsy material dipping with his body weight.

“I am sleeping, or at least I hope to be.”

“Get away from me! How dare you,” the girl cried, her body tense as she flung her body out of the bed.

“You may struggle to recall this, but this is my tent. You have been sleeping in my bed and as much as it pleases me to see you enjoying it so, I too wish to rest,” Gwayne bites out, his tone laced with sarcasm and thinly veiled contempt. She could’ve been sleeping on the dirt floor and here she still complains.

Gwayne hears her muttering “no, no” and finds little inside of himself to care, instead tugging on the restraints binding her hands. The squeal as she falls back into the bed makes him smirk, pushing the girl into the fabric and covering her with a blanket.

“Sleep. And keep any foolish ideas you may have of escaping to yourself, for you have no dragon or the faintest idea of your location.”

Gwayne rolls away from the Princess, feeling smug with himself at the lack of response he receives, though the rigid frame of the girl seems to be conveying enough to him. She knows her hopes of escape will not come to fruition tonight, not with the Hightower sleeping by her side. She can’t even retaliate when his heavy frame drapes over her own during the night, arms slung across her stomach as he clings to her body heat. Restless, she lies there listening to his languid breaths, her own heart pounding with anxiety.

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The Princess had been in the camp for what felt like months, though her stay had only totalled five days. It seemed that her and her captor had fallen into a somewhat amicable routine: Gwyane would venture down with the Princess to the nearby lake to allow bathe, and the pair would break their fast with the rest of the soldiers. He would then return her to his tent while he talked strategy with Criston, leaving the girl alone, but not unsupervised. He’d given up use of the rope that had attached to her ankle after the first night in the bed, but the knight was still wary of the Princess trying to escape. In the evenings the two would sit by a small fire in the common area of the camp and eat their meager meals, Gwayne even allowing the girl her own cup of mead to wash the bread down. Gwayne couldn’t deny that it felt comforting to have another’s presence as a constant, especially after such long periods of loneliness and isolation. He even begins to warm to his captive, small chuckles leaving his lips more often as they conversed.

And yet their moments of ambivalence seemed to come crashing down as Gwayne left to fetch more mead, only to return and see a common soldier leering over the Princess. His stout body crowded into her space, his hands clutching at her shoulders, the fabric ripping in his harsh grip. From a distance it was difficult for Gwayne to hear the man’s words, though he held strong suspicions of their nature, however as he covered ground his ears picked up more and more.

“Mmm… do you think you could handle the cock of a real man, Princess?” the man muttered sleazily, “I don’t think you could. All you Royal cunts act like you’re above us, but maybe you just need a little demonstration.”

The Princess’s discomfort was plain for all to see, no more so than Gwayne. Her shaking frame and teary eyes look around broadly, pleading for an intervention as her bottom lip trembles in fear. It only takes him a moment to unsheath his sword, raising it to the neck of the soldier.

“Remove your vile hands before I do so for you,” he demands, his tone firm and gaze locked on the scum in front of him. Gwayne revels in the shock that crosses the soldier’s face and his disappearance from his sight shortly after. Common-born folk always aim far above their station, coveting what should never be sullied by them, Gwayne thinks.

The Hightower is caught up in his thoughts as he brings the Princess back to his tent. His chest feels as if it’s filling up with anger, breathing growing heavy at the feeling of the Princess trembling under his grip. Many soldiers had been invited to fight with a great army in the name of the King, and yet here they stood leering and preying on the King’s own niece. Such depravity should be expected of commoners but to dare even suggest of defiling a Princess of the Realm would ordinarily be treason.

It’s only the wide, teary eyes that finally snap Gwayne out of his thoughts. The Princess is clutching his arm, her body pressed into his side as she looks up, lower lip still trembling. The girl had been scared out of her mind, too weak and powerless to stop any advances, and now here she stood a wreck because of it. To see the Princess looking up at him in such a way sends a new series of thoughts running through Gwayne’s mind, tightening his breeches and quickening his breathing.

The men in the camp were only acting in such a depraved way due to a misguided conception that the Princess was not spoken for. They believed that she was free for the taking, for any common man to use and keep. She was his captive though no man seemed to acknowledge his stake of claim over her. She slept in his tent each night, in his bed, by his side. If that would not convince these vile men to back away, then only one thing would. Gwayne was a flawed man, he himself could acknowledge that, but he would protect the Princess as was asked of him, in any way he could. And if that meant he would need to make his position clearer to the camp then he would.

The Princess would understand the actions he needed to take, he thinks, as his hand begins to brush at the exposed skin on her shoulder where her dress had torn. As her breath hitches at the contact, Gwayne can’t help his growing smirk - she’s so responsive to him, not even aware of how she’s pushing her body closer to him unconscionably. He can feel her plush breasts press against his chest and her hips against his own, though she seems unaware of the growing hardness pressing against her stomach.

The Hightower knight assures himself that he won’t enjoy his next actions, for it is only his duty to keep the Princess safe and protected from those who wish to do her harm. He assures himself that the Seven will grant him forgiveness, for he is only acting as any nobleman would. Finally, Gwayne assures himself that the Princess would forgive him for what he was about to do - soon she would understand that becoming his own spoil of war would keep her safe from other men of less valiant intentions. She would thank him sooner or later - she would, he reassures himself over and over again as he begins to lead the Princess over to his makeshift bed. He ignores the thought in the back of his mind telling him that even if she withheld her forgiveness, he wouldn’t mind too much - he would care much less than he should.

[maggotbxby]

Coup De Grâce - Deadite Ellie x OC/Reader - Chapter One

"and the devil who had deceived them was thrown into the lake of fire and sulfur where the beast and the false prophet were, and they will be tormented day and night forever and ever" Revelation 20:10

Or...

Greta is a God-fearing, wannabe actress with a particularly strange family history, and an impressive talent of stumbling upon disgusting scenes. When tragedy strikes her home in an old LA high-rise, she quickly realizes her fate may be much more twisted than she was brought up to believe.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6,349

TW: Religious Trauma; Gore; Suicidal Thoughts; Violence; Everything in Evil Dead Rise.

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This building is dead.

It died a month ago when the landlord dropped letters in our mail slots letting us all know we have to be out by next month. He didn't even give us the courtesy of calling, just a print and copied half-assed apology letter to the tenants who pay out their livelihoods every month in rent so he can buy a new Ferrari and not fix the lights.

It’s not that I want to be here, particularly. There is just no other apartment on this side of LA that I would be able to afford. No others would even consider me, if I could. No stable job and a 480 credit score doesn't bode well with most landlords.

A category 5 earthquake was just a death blow, and exactly what I needed to truly understand it was, in fact, God's will for me to return to Tennessee.

The apartment is nearly pitch dark, even with the couple of candles I lit. A blackout coming with the aftershocks while I was packing explains a lot about how my luck has been the past few weeks. It’s as quiet as the dead, aside from the typical moans and groans of the old building. If my neighbors weren't stomping around, I would consider it eerie. 

I sit on a rickety stool that came with the place as I sort through my papers. Every tiny shift in my body causes the stool to creak and groan, just like the rest of the wretched building, so I try to be perfectly still.

The candlelight picks up my papers just enough for me to sort through them and chuck them into boxes- or the trash. It's nearly 10:00 and on a normal night I wouldn't keep packing, especially during a post-earthquake blackout, but I want out of this place as quickly as possible, and if I have to suffer for a while to do that, I will. 

I pick up a folder on my desk, and even in the dark I recognize it as my portfolio- or my pathetic excuse of one. I open it up to see my year-old headshots and my resume. I’ve never been a bad actress, particularly, I’ve just been bad at landing roles. Sure, maybe I didn't work hard enough to find a manager, but even if I had, my off-screen charisma has always been lacking. I scored one decent role in a film, only for it to be scrapped halfway through production. But I have kept trying, I tried theater, I tried commercials, I even tried volunteering into the musical theater at my local church; I’ve tried lots of things.

Because my father left me on this earth alone, and try is all that I can do.

I need to keep living, for reasons undisclosed to even my own mind.

I tell myself that my father left because God wanted him to come home. He spent years of his life driving out evil spirits, freeing tormented souls from the clutches of the Devil, and maybe God thought his work was done? I like to believe that over the probable truth that his fear overcame him; that what he has been running from his entire life finally caught up to him. There is a devotion to God and, with it, a fear of the Devil that has been passed down for generations throughout my family. My father, and many men before him, suffered because of it. 

But if God called my father home, what does that tell me about our home? Does God not care about our family? Why wouldn't he take both of us? No matter what I have done to myself after he died, the agony I have both endured and inflicted upon myself, I am still here. So maybe I do have a purpose on this earth. Or maybe God doesn't want me in His Kingdom at all. 

I remain faithful that these thoughts are untrue. I pray to God every day and every night. I spread His word to those I meet, and I follow His guidance in everything I do, so maybe that’s why I'm still here. 

Packing my, and the rest of my fathers belongings a second time has my mind cruelly bogged with memories, scents, feelings; just pure sentimentality. I have never been host to it before, being estranged from the rest of my family young never granted me the privilege. I do not have the patience for it. My body aches as I look at my shattered dreams, and I feel something cold and awful prick at the throbbing muscle inside my chest, frigid claws that dig deep into my being and tear away so subtly.

My anger gets the better of me and I throw the folder into the trash, causing it to topple over and spill papers and garbage all over the floor. Tears of exhaustion and frustration well up in my eyes, and I grip the sides of my head in my hands and bite back a scream. I will not let myself cry over this. I created this problem, I have to dig -or well, clean- myself out of it. 

I admit, I am an exposed nerve, and have been for the last year, my father's death having ripped off my epineurium.

I hop up from the stool, making it creak wretchedly, scraping the wooden floor, and I grab a broom from the kitchen to clean up the mess.

It’s because it is so quiet that I hear footsteps outside my door.

In most apartments, this wouldn't come as a surprise but considering I live around a corner, at the end of the hall, on the top floor, it’s a bit odd to have foot traffic this late. I tend to be left alone down here, no one vying to get in aside from the rats and dust bunnies.

I keep cleaning, because if someone has come to rob me, they will surely be disappointed, and if they have come to kidnap or kill me, my weak body and dry-rotten broomstick surely aren't going to stop them.

The steps draw closer, and I can hear their breathing; sharp, heavy, fast. The pattering footsteps stop but the breathing doesn't, however it draws farther away.

My curiosity gets the best of me, and I slowly approach the peephole in the door. I take in a deep breath only to relax when I see it’s one of the neighbor kids, peering around my little back corner out into the long-stretched hallway with the other apartments. I can’t see that hallway from my room, however.

The moment of relaxation is cut short as I realize the kid is crying. His eyes are wide and red, and his breath is quick, like a rabbit being hunted by a fox.

Then I hear a scream coming from the hallway.

Then another.

Then another.

The child is still hiding around the corner and even though I can’t see what he’s hiding from, everything in my nature tells me it is something he needs to get away from, now. I go to open the door and before I can unlock the deadbolt, the kid takes a mad dash down the long hallway.

…

……

...……

Another scream.

A thud.

My eyes well up in tears of panic and fear as I stand frozen, staring out of the peephole. I see nothing, but I hear everything.

Screaming, crying, ripping, squelching, banging, a gunshot.

Laughing.

Across that sequence of events, which lasted all of 3 minutes, I decided to make peace with death. Because it is all that I can do.

Then it goes quiet again. This time the quiet is eerie. No loud neighbors, no footsteps, nothing.

The air at the top of the high rise is thin, always has been, but trying to breathe it in during a panic feels like there is no air left at all. My hands shake, my chest feels as if it is about to explode. I unlock my cell phone and dial 911 only to be met with a repetitive beep. The earthquake took out the cell towers, of course. Self-preservatory panic overstimulates my senses and I drop to my knees at the door in a terrified heap. I cannot stop the sobs that choke out of my throat, and I fear even my body knows that whoever- or whatever is out there is going to come for me soon.

I clasp my hands and bow my head as I sob out the only thing I can “The lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside still waters; He restores my soul. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death; I fear no evil; for you are with me.”

I whisper prayers until my voice is hoarse. Because that is all that I can do. If anyone saw me at this moment I would be mortified. My neighbors are being attacked just outside my door and I have done nothing . But what can I do? Face a mass murderer by myself. Whoever is out there hasn't been stopped by the entire floor of people. They're a predator, and I am just as much a lamb to be slaughtered as anyone.

What I do need, is to get out of this place.

My mind is frequently unreliable, especially with time, however I have been hyperfocused on sounds tonight and I can confidently say the hallway has been pretty silent for at least 10 minutes now.

This can mean one of two things:

Everyone here except me got the hell out of this building, because they didn’t hide in their apartments like cowards, and the authorities are on their way.

Or everyone here except me has been killed, because they didn’t hide in their apartments, and ran out like idiots, and I am just waiting for my turn to face death as well.

Regardless of the right answer, staying in my apartment is going to get me nowhere. The only available exits are the elevator -which is a terrible option post-earthquake- or the stairs, both of which are at the end of the hall.

I get up from my heap on the floor and scour my apartment to grab the rest of my essentials to get out of here. I toss my phone, keys, wallet, and bible all into my purse, and I slowly and quietly unlock the deadbolt.

The moment I put my hand on the door handle to pull it open I feel my stomach sink and my body tense. The narrow hallway feels like a chute, and I feel as soon as I turn the corner my executioner will be waiting with a captive bolt ready to be driven into my skull. 

I take two quiet steps outside my door towards the other hallway and I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and my heart threatens to crash its way out of my chest, sending a painful wave of thunder to my wrists and my neck. The sheer force of my blood pressure reverberates into my ears. I keep my body to the wall and clutch my bag to satisfy my brain’s need to have leverage and I use every ounce of courage in my body to peer around the corner into the hallway and-

Corpses.

There are corpses.

Horrifying, mutilated corpses of my neighbors. The corpse of the child who, if I was a second faster, could have been brought into my apartment.

Skin sloughed from muscle, muscle from bone and I am sick sick sick sick si-

The putrid, infectious scent of bile, blood, and exposed flesh makes its way to me, and by some miracle I do not vomit but my body doubles over, and my eyes and mouth are pooling while a black haze creeps into the borders of my field of view.

When I glance up, the sensible part of my brain makes my obscured vision focus on the only thing still moving in the hallway.

I, as anyone who knew her would, recognize her from the tattoos on her exposed flesh and the distinct red hair on her head, Ellie Bixler.

But very much not Ellie Bixler.

Her skin is pale and gray with death, and she is caked in blood and bits of everything that are no longer inside my neighbors' bodies. The curve of her arm is made jagged, and My God limbs are not meant to bend that way.

I suddenly believe that every prayer I have ever spoken has come to protect me at this moment, as she somehow does not notice me while she is focused on what I think is the door to her own apartment. I do not let my luck go to waste as I rush back behind the wall, out of sight of anyone in that hallway.

The quiet I got too comfortable with finally comes to an end in what I assume is the sound of her breaking, or trying to break through her door.

I peer around the corner like an idiot in some sick daze of infatuation when I hear the scream of a child.

Ellie is pushed halfway into her apartment, holding onto what I can only imagine is her youngest daughter, Kassie. Someone else inside the room comes to help as the door is slammed onto Ellie’s arm and she recoils back into the hallway.

She then throws herself into the door, furiously banging on it.

  “OPEN THE DOOR LIKE YOU OPEN YOUR LEGS YOU STINKING GROUPIE SLUT!”

 The voice sounds like a twisted, savage, faux version of my neighbor’s and I feel the overwhelming urge to vomit again as I dart back into hiding, and I take the opportunity of the noise to rush back to my apartment.

The contents of my stomach do end up on my floor after I close and lock the apartment behind myself.

I despise vomiting. Tragically, I was cursed with a weak stomach and an impressive ability to stumble upon revolting sights. A deadly combination only I could be so lucky to have. 

I do not think to clean up the vomit on the floor that will soon be covered in my own blood when I am inevitably found.

I quickly realize as my body autopilots into my bedroom, that spilling my guts combined with a severe spike in adrenaline has given me three things; sharp chest pain, energy renewal, and a massive degree of mania.

I now know what I need to do.

I haven't touched these books since I moved out of Tennessee, not that I should have. Every time they have been opened they consume the one who opens them. My father was constantly buried in these writings, wasting his life trying to make something of them. Something that would allow our family to repent from the sins of our ancestors. I have never been so unlucky to read them, until now.

I know exactly where I hid them. I drop to the floor in front of the old, dusty armoire that came with the apartment, that definitely should have been thrown out years before I moved in here.

I flatten myself on the splintery floor and snake an arm under it, finding what I was looking for. I pull out the wooden box and rise to my knees as I pop open the latch. There is a stack of 3 handwritten journals. Journals scrawled by my great-great Grandfather, Marcus Littleton.

My body quivers, and adrenaline and fear flow through my veins as I pull one of the journals out of the box, illuminated by the moonlight.

I take the box and journal to my desk. I re-light the candle upon my desk and I open the treacherous tome up. My heart is frightened; however, my mind is set.

I have heard my father describe demons for the entirety of my life. ‘Twisted, rotting corpses intent on causing chaos, destruction, and pain everywhere they are found.’

I never fully believed his tales. Of course I didn’t, there was never any public recordings of such events. His stories were from the 1920’s, it could have been nothing but hearsay. Hearsay that he lived and died for. Hearsay that, if I do nothing, I will also die for. 

He never let me touch these books when he was alive, he kept them hidden for himself. When I inherited them, I never opened the box. Partially because I respected my fathers wishes, partially because I didn't want to become consumed in them as he was. My father and I always were alike.

The handwriting of my great-great grandfather is sloppy, and every word is abbreviated, shortened, or misspelled. These books were scrawled in a panic. I knew this. I was, however, never told the extent. I skim through the most legible parts of the pages, many words and phrases unreadable.

“The words I uttered have unleashed a demonic entity beyond my darkest nightmares”

“The book, it cannot be destroyed.”

“Their bodies twisted, decaying.”

“Rotted from the inside out.”

“It does not stop.”

“The possession will spread.”

“They will tear you apart, and bathe in your guts.”

“Run.”

“It cannot be stopped until innocence is destroyed.”

“I cannot escape this.”

“It's going to get me soon.”

I slam the book shut. My body trembles so wildly I begin to spasm. My heart is beating as fast as a racehorse’s and my breathing refuses to slow. The fear of being discovered from the thing just outside my apartment is the only thing keeping me from screaming.

The chicken scratch writing described a book. I have heard about this book for years. A book that was hidden away for the good of humanity. My father wanted to keep us as far away from Los Angeles for a reason. He never knew where the book was hidden away, but he knew it had to be here.

And of course, it would make total, logical sense, that by some absolute joke from God, out of all the old buildings in this city, I manage to land an apartment in the one the book was being held at.

Or perhaps I really am cursed, and some sick string of fate brought me here to die and end my family's bloodline.

The only way this could be happening is if someone found the book. My father always said, ‘They have no power without the book, so long as the words aren't spoken.’ I’m hoping he is right. If he is, maybe there is something in the book that can be used to save whoever is left in the building. Something my great-great grandfather missed.

There is only one problem.

I have absolutely no idea where the book is.

This building has 14 floors, and hundreds of tenants. It would be nearly impossible for me to find it without a mass murderer trying to kill everything in its sight. 

The chaos does seem to be contained to this floor, and by the looks of it, Ellie is the only one causing it. That could potentially narrow it down to someone on this floor having it, unless of course Ellie was just the unlucky one, in the wrong place at the wrong time. It could have been anyone. 

Ellie Bixler didn't deserve this. The journal said the souls of those taken were corrupted by the demon, damning them to burn in hell while their body and partial consciousness remains to wreak havoc among men. Ellie Bixler does not deserve hell.

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Ellie Bixler was one of the first faces I saw when I moved to this treacherous place. Moving alone was a nightmare, especially moving alone into the top floor of a high-rise, into the apartment farthest from the elevator. 

I thought the nightmare was ending when I got to the last boxes in the truck. However, when I picked them up, and almost toppled over with the weight of them, I realized my bad luck streak continued. I glanced at the label on the top box and sighed—of course it would be my dishes. I hear the ding of the elevator and feel a sudden whoosh of thankfulness.

“Hold the elevator!” I called, hoping that whoever was inside of it heard me. But seeing as I didn’t run into the doors, they must have. “Thank you," I said breathlessly, in passing, and then slumped against the wall of the elevator, balancing the bottom box on my thighs.

“Do you need some help?”

I peered around my stack of boxes to see the woman who had been kind enough to hold the elevator door for me; she was still standing there, dressed in a Guns N’ Roses t-shirt, dark blue ripped jeans, and leather boots. She wasn't dressed like the women I grew up around in the Bible Belt, that's for sure. And judging by her dyed red hair and tattoos, I would guess she didn't act like them either. She was staring at me hesitantly with blue eyes that looked as exhausted as I felt.

“Oh, no, I’ve got it,” I said quickly, disappearing back behind the boxes once I realized I had been staring a few moments too long at the gorgeous, courteous stranger while looking like I had been hit by a bus. “Thank you, though.”

There was a soft hum of contemplation, and then, a few moments later, a swish of the elevator doors sliding closed. I slumped against the elevator wall, thankful that I wouldn't have to converse with my new neighbor while coated with dirt and sweat.

“I think I have to insist, then.”

I jolted up so quickly that the box on the top wobbled precariously, only for it to be slipped off the stack and into the arms of the tall stranger. I stared at her, eyes wide, as the woman slouched under the weight of the box and flushed, before straightening up and smiling at me. 

“Um.” I cringed at myself. What a way to be eloquent. “Thank you, but you really didn’t—”

“I know,” the woman smiled back. “What’s your number?”

I blinked in surprise.

“Excuse me?” There was no way this lady just asked for my number. Who did she think she was?

The woman’s mouth fell open and she was immediately blushing. Her brow furrowed and she chuckled awkwardly, shaking her head. “Your floor… Number. Is what I meant. For the elevator?”

Oh . I looked over at the rows of glowing white buttons; I hadn’t pressed the floor number when I rushed in.

“Oh, yeah! Right!” I replied awkwardly, still not looking at the woman. I shouldn’t have felt bad—after all, this stranger is the one who said it—but I couldn’t help feeling like I was the one who made everything uncomfortable.

“Fourteen,” I finally replied, sighing, after clearing my throat. The woman grinned, a big beautiful smile, and pressed the button.

“Well hello neighbor! I’m on 14 as well, apartment 85.” I looked back over at her sheepishly. “Expect to climb a lot of stairs. This elevator is out of order more often than it’s working.”

“Of course it is,” I commented dryly. Well, at least it appeared to be working on the day I needed it to be. Hopefully that luck holds true for grocery days, too. I thought. “Stairs aren’t a problem. Besides, it gives me an excuse to drink a third cup of coffee in the mornings.”

The woman laughed. “Sometimes I need at least five. Don’t have kids.” the stranger joked.

“You have kids?” I asked.

“Three.” She started, “Two sweet girls, Bridget and Kassie. And my boy, Danny, who is always the culprit if you hear loud music coming from my place.”

“Wow you've got a handful then.” I replied. “I’ve always wanted kids… but it doesn’t seem in my cards anymore.” I winced, and wanted to kick myself so bad for accidentally sounding super melancholic. 

The woman nodded kindly, smart enough not to pry. Or maybe she just didn't want to entertain depressing, deep conversation with someone she met less than 3 minutes ago. 

“I’d shake your hand…” the woman said, her voice hesitant as if she could sense the awkward tension in the elevator, “but…” she glanced pointedly at the box, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“I appreciate the concern for my dishes.”

“Dishes,” she said, staring at the box. “Well, that explains things.”

Like the fact that it’s a lot heavier than you thought it would be , I thought, and couldn't hold in my chuckle.

“My name’s Ellie.” The stranger—or Ellie, apparently—looked over at me. “By the way. Since we’re… Going to be neighbors.” This time, Ellie was the one who cringed.

“Well then, neighbor.” I stressed the word around my smile. “I’m Greta.”

“Greta.” Ellie said. My name sounded so pleasant coming from her lips compared to my own. I quickly eliminated that thought from my mind. 

“Ellie.” I intoned in the same manner, and Ellie laughed. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open; Ellie inclined her head, as if to say you first , and I nod as I step through the doors. 

“I probably should have warned you that I live all the way at the end of the hall.” I shifted the box in my arms and glanced over at Ellie. “Before you decided to be a good samaritan.”

“I’m always a good samaritan,” Ellie responded, her tone of voice slightly defensive.

“Careful. You told me where you live. I might abuse that.” That sounded a lot creepier than I meant it, but Ellie just laughed, which slightly lifted my embarrassment.

I stepped through the doors of my apartment. I didn’t expect Ellie to be impressed—chances are we had the same exact apartment, hers just… properly decorated—so rather than trying to play the role of host, I simply led Ellie straight to where I put the box containing my disassembled Ikea kitchen table.

Ellie did, however, let out a low whistle as she looked around.

“Wow, you’ve been at this all day, haven't you?” She slipped the box on top of the Ikea box while I laid mine on the floor. 

“Yes, tragically. I slept on the floor and left the truck full of my non-essential stuff last night. Looking back, I definitely should have gotten robbed.”

“Long drive then?”

“You could say that.. Knoxville.” I sighed.

“You're telling me you drove here… from Tennessee?” She looked at me, eyes wide in shock. “With seemingly no help?”

“Just me and god.” Ellie laughed at that, but then caught herself when she noticed my expression, and the cross on my necklace, and realized I was serious.

“Well, then… I’d be happy to help, if you’d like?”

“That’s really nice of you, Ellie, but I’m afraid you're just too late. Those were my last boxes.”

“I have impeccable timing, huh?”

“Seems like it.” We both laughed, a bit awkwardly.

“What brought you all the way to the City of Angels?” Ellie interjected, cutting the awkward tension once again.

I breathed a heavy sigh, “It’s a long story…”

“Well, you could tell it, if you come have dinner with me.”

I recoiled, “I couldn’t- No. No thank you, I really should start putting all this stuff away.”

Ellie put her hand on my arm, “I insist. My husband, Jay, is making steak tonight and when he cooks, he cooks for a village.” Not that 3 children isn't a village.

I flinched, then relaxed slightly under the hand on my arm, I looked up at Ellie, contemplating, but there was little I would do to argue. I was exhausted, and I shouldn’t decline free food, even from a stranger. “I suppose I can't say no.”

  ------------

That night was the first, and the only time in a long time I felt safe. 

I didn’t spend a lot of time with Ellie outside of that night. She was a very busy woman, and I was constantly trying to find work, or locking myself in my apartment stressing about trying to find work. I often passed her in the hallway, or stopped to chat while doing laundry, but that was the extent. For the most part.

We were also very different, spiritually and morally. She wasn’t religious and I was not going to try and convert an entire family of 5. Our lives were just very different, as much as I felt drawn to her. I often, for some reason, constantly had the gnawing ache to go back to her apartment and spend time with her, and just be in her presence more than I should. It’s a feeling I have felt before, when I was young, and something deep rooted in my consciousness told me I shouldn’t give into that ache.

‘For god cannot be tempted by desire, nor does he tempt anyone; but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed.’

I found out about her divorce when we crossed paths in the hall. It came as a shock, to an extent. Externally they seemed like the perfect couple, but being their neighbor, I had heard a fair number of screaming matches between the two of them. Divorce is something my family has always been against, especially when there are children involved; however, I believe that God would forgive Ellie if her husband abandoned her.

Ellie was a kind person; Ellie does not deserve Hell.

Ellie’s family –by the looks of it– is still alive in her apartment. As long as no one in the apartment has been possessed, it is possible they can be saved.

I just have to, you know, get there, without the demon in the hall ripping me to shreds before I take a step.

I sit at my desk, chewing on my cheek as I think out the most insane, ludicrous plan to save my neighbors, and to free my family from this book that has haunted us for generations. 

There is an estimated 10 percent chance of getting out of this alive, but there are little alternative options.

There was a shotgun in the hallway. 

If I can get ahold of it, and subdue Ellie long enough for her family to let me in, I can get ahold of the book, and with it, and my great-great grandfather's journals, I could find a way to get us all out alive.

That is, if they will even let me in, and if the book is even with Ellie’s family. This is where my odds drop further.

This plan is flawed. It is dangerous. It is stupid.

But I am all of those things, yet God has kept me alive, so perhaps there is hope to be found somewhere.

As I pack the journals into my bag, and I pull my largest and sharpest knife from the kitchen, I feel the full weight of my mortality sit upon my chest. 

I am mad for this.

But what is my life going to be otherwise? What did God keep me alive through so much for? I have to have faith.

I bear the knife in my hand, and wrap a rosary around my arm and wrist. My bible is held in my bag and I stand before the door to my death once again, praying for my father’s forgiveness if I mess this up.

As I carefully unlock the piece of wood separating me and the Devil, I go white-knuckled on my knife, and I feel bile begin to creep up. I am already out of breath due to panic, dissociating out of my mind, and trembling so forcefully that my teeth chatter. I bite my tongue until I taste blood, and I push open the door.

I am not sure how I want to do this, but planning now would only exhaust me further, and I need to think on my feet. 

Grab the gun, shoot the demon, get inside. 

I take a few, quiet, petrified steps into the hallway and look around the corner when I see-

Kassie?

Ellie’s youngest daughter is standing in the hallway, moving to help a young, dark-haired woman off the ground. From what I have heard, this is Ellie’s sister, Beth, whom I have heard referred to as ‘The Groupie’ from various neighbors.

Their attention turns to me, Beth looks shocked, eyes wide, as she moves to grab the shotgun from what I now sickeningly realize is the corpse of Mr. Fonda. 

The smell, Christ. I have sworn off vomiting again, but my body desperately wants to overrun my mind at this moment. I fight bile and slowly approach them. Kassie puts a finger over her lips, assuring I know to stay quiet.

Where are Bridget and Danny? I already know, at least, I should already know. My twisted mind does not choose to process that in the moment, only focusing on the two people merely 20 feet from me.

It is my fear that allows me a keenness to sound -even over my heartbeat in my ears- and I hear the cracking of glass and bone behind me as I begin to pass Ellie’s apartment.

No.

Please, God, don’t let this happen to me now. Not when I’m this close.

I freeze, because I am a prey animal, no matter what anyone says, in this building, right now, I am prey, and as a prey animal, I have developed the intuition of knowing when I am being watched. 

Its gaze is fixed on me, and I am all taut muscle and dilated pupils underneath it. I know it is behind me, and I know with every fiber of my being that I am going to die if I do not move.

But my body will not allow my muscles to relax enough to bend my limbs.

I am gripping the knife in my hand for dear life and my eyes are locked with Beth’s, who is, currently, my only hope in surviving this. The groupie raises the shotgun, and points it behind me. It is then that I decide to turn and look at-

There is a hand on my neck.

There is a hand on my neck. There is a hand on my neck. There is a hand on my neck. 

It is cold and wet and awful and I set my jaw and every muscle in my throat tenses more than they already were. My teeth threaten to break each other under the force caused by my fear. 

I attempt to drive the knife into the flesh behind me, when my arm is caught in the grasp of another hand. The grip is tighter than the sickeningly gentle hold on my neck, and its claws dig deep into the tendons of my wrist, making me scream out in pain, my eyes screwing shut as my hand involuntarily releases the knife.

There is a wet, breathy, crackling chuckle behind me, and the grip on my neck releases, and I open my tear-filled eyes, only to be thrown into the door across from Ellie's apartment. 

It is on me swiftly after that. It grabs my wrist again and pins it against the door, like it’s body alone wasn’t doing that enough. 

Its stare is predatory and piercing, nothing like Ellie’s once was. It is feral, and it's burning into me. Wide, consuming and unblinking as it stares down at me, I am drowning in it. Pupils like a pinpoint amongst a pale blue, scleras dark and bloodshot. 

It leans down for an awful moment, a pit forms in my stomach and I want to vomit as it licks the blood dripping down my forearm from its claws.

I look over its shoulder at Beth, who Kassie is hiding behind and gripping for dear life.

“Please.” It is my voice that pleads, but I have never heard myself so breathless nor shrill.

“Pl…ease.” The demon's voice mocks me, eyes still burning into mine. It's voice hoarse and deep and repulsive, but the thing that makes me want to upchuck more than anything, is that I can still hear Ellie's voice underneath it. Sweet, funny, no-bullshit Ellie Bixler, consumed by the Devil. 

Beth is looking at me now, fear in her wide eyes, as she aims the gun down sight for a moment, aiming directly at the demon. 

Pull the trigger.

PULL THE GODDAMN TRIGGER.

This is my apex of disaster. This is all that my mind has been made to handle. I have hit the limit of my unluckiness and hit it so damn hard I might as well have heard a comedically timed ‘bang’ and seen stars dancing around my head. 

Beth is unmoving, and my breath catches in my throat as I choke out a strangled sob when I see the woman mouth ‘I’m sorry’ before the shotgun it aimed at the door to apartment 82, and it is blasted open.

The demon before me jolts upright, but doesn't take its smothering gaze off of me, even when Beth grabs Kassie and runs through the door. 

My fate is sealed as the door slams behind her, and all that is heard is the clanking of the security chain lock, as Beth well and truly escapes.

Then there is a deafening silence…

…A pattering of footsteps…

…Heavy, excited, wheezy, panting.

An excited panting that is coming from the creature before me.

This is where my faith in God has led me. Like my father, and his father, and the father before him. All of my life, and all of their lives, have led to this very moment. My death will be the fated coup de grâce of our cursed bloodline.

I am crucified to my place, paralyzed from the neck down as it looks upon me. I am fated to be consumed by this monster. This is my destiny.

[pastel-greene]

The Daughter | king!sukuna x curse user!reader

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Summary: The mother of curses happens upon a blind child and decides to impart a portion of her power to them as an experiment of sorts. The power morphs the child in their image until they are part curse and part human. So what happens when they get employed by the King of Curses? Will humanity bloom as newfound emotions flow between the two? Or will they usher in an era of never ending terror?

Notes: not all of this will be canon, it will be loosely based off of the jjk universe :) taglist is open, comment on any chapter to be tagged in future ones

Genre: female reader, fluff, angst, ‘loads’ of smut, violence, sukuna true form but like not with the weird face lmao just double set of eyes and arms, dark reader

Warnings: profanity, explicit smut (two dick sukuna, sadistic sex, biting, oral m & f receiving, pet names, more to be added), violence, depictions of gore, dark minds cause yk, mentions of rape, toxic relationships, chaotic neutral reader, trauma, possessiveness from reader and sukuna, torture, vampire themes (reader’s blood is infused with the Mother of curses so if a curse user is to drink it it basically gives them a temporary stat boost bc what can i say vampire sukuna seems hot), and more to be added as story progresses

Word count: 1.4k

This work contains mature content, so absolutely no minors I will block you if I find out :)

The battlefield roars around her as she lets out a feral laugh. The scent of blood bathes her skin as enemies around her burst at their seams as if allergic to their own viscera. Her power curls around her in dark tendrils, shadowy mist traveling from her feet and from it monstrosities spawn. From her being they are born, from her existence cursed energy sprawls damning the world. Humans and socerers alike flood to exterminate her like the blight she is, but their hatred and fear only makes her stronger. Their infected emotions only allow her entry into their minds, allow her new hosts for her children. With each minute, more and more of them succumb to the sickness and from their corpses new curses rise and fight. She is the unending threat, the undying plague, the Mother of Curses.

This was her life for an uncountable number of millenia for her existence started with the creation of light, for light could not exist with darkness. A life full of death, misery, and sadistic pleasure. That was until, she fell in love with a human. Not in a romantic sense, but in a maternal sense. It happened after a particularly interesting battle with a man donning white hair and crystal blue eyes. His technique and mastery over cursed energy was a sight she never expected. It left her more wounded than she had ever been. Of course, she wouldn’t die from it, but it still hurt like hell. So she found herself stumbling across the snowy expanse and upon a run down hut. It was warm and smelled of a hearty soup begging to calm her ailments. She approached the hut with little trepidation and swung the door open ready to evict whoever was inside, but she didn’t see anyone. She stepped further in and looked around but the place was empty. A trap perhaps? She thought. But where is the trapper? Is the food meant to lure victims in only to poison them? She again stepped further into the abode, further towards the food, but she sensed a presence. It seemed to lurch from nowhere straight towards her. She turned quicker than the being could register and grabbed them by the collar of their shirt and held them up.

“Let me go you you thieving piece of shit before I strangle you with your own damn innards, add you to the fucking stew, and drink it through your hollowed out eye sockets!”

….before you what? The mother of curses had never heard such a threat to her. Never heard something as unhinged and quite frankly gross as that, especially from what seemed to be a child. Yes, a child it was, one with white hair and eyes to match.

”What are you fucking deaf? Unhand me and get the fuck out!”

The Mother of Curses started laughing as she moved her hand to grab the child by the jaw, her shadows unarming the girl of the knife she thrashed throughout the air. Defiance sat on the child's face as she spat right on the Mother. Ohhh you are so fucking close to dying. You think being made into stew is bad? Just you fucking wait. I will show you the true reaches of pain. Up came the Mother’s free hand to wipe the spit off of her face before using the girl’s hair to dry it off. Then went her finger into the girl’s skull. A strangled scream ripped from her and she writhed in plea of escape.

Within her mind was vile. Her memories were dark scapes filled with throat wrenching smells and unknown touches. Her fear of being touched without being able to see stained each and every rotten corner of her mind. But as the Mother dug deeper, she could make out silhouettes, each with a different feeling. The child had learned to feel people’s energy and had used that to navigate.

That must be how she sensed me coming. And knowing she can sense other’s energies means that she can probably sense her own. Which would explain why I didn’t sense her at first because she has most likely learned to mute her presence altogether. Cheeky little assassin, yeah?

In her memories the Mother feels and smells a very familiar substance—blood. She pulls herself towards the memory drenched in it. A memory of the girl’s first kill. It starts with screams and sobs overpowered by hungry laughs and hands. It wasn’t the first time the girl had been in this predicament, but this time is what changed her. Something in her snapped and all of the beauty made by the Mother herself started pouring into the girl. Strength she hadn’t known before surged through her body and before she knew it her hands were slicing through people like butter. Now it was her hungry laugh drowning out their screams and sobs. Some pleaded which only earned them an audience with her teeth as a wicked smile pulled back her lips to introduce them. Into flesh they sank, blood pouring down her face and throat and dousing the room as she ripped back. A feral beast finally liberated from its cage.

The Mother had originally intended to pump her with cursed energy until she popped, but another idea came into her head. She decided to add onto the cursed energy the girl already possessed but not to kill her. To enhance her. To make her a spawn of the Mother of curses in human form. Her proven survival instinct and bloodlust were promising aspects for a spawn and her cooking smelled decent enough that she could at least cook for her if nothing else. The girl’s writhing calmed down as she felt the power flowing into her. Everything felt as if it was exploding inside her as her very makeup was being altered. Her bones grew denser, her blood grew richer, her muscles grew stronger, her hair grew darker until only a section of the light remained, and within her eyes bloomed irises of blood.

The Mother withdrew her finger and released the girl to collapse on the floor as she headed towards a pile of blankets in the corner. Her state haggard after parting with energy after being in such a state already. The girl sat there on her knees looking at her hands.

”You are going to overcook the soup. Hurry and serve it already,” she said whilst stretching out her legs under the small covers.

The girl looked back towards her, finally seeing the mask that hid the bone chilling aura she felt. She stared for a long minute before getting up and pouring the woman a bowl of her soup. She continued to stare at many things as she ate, things she had never seen before. It was beautiful. She would have cried if her intruder was not still present.

From that day on, the Mother stayed in that little run down abode with the girl. Teaching her how to use her new body, showing her the secrets to her ever growing powers. It was something the Mother never saw herself doing, but an experiment that had her shaking with anticipation. She had started to consider what it would be like to withdraw to her domain and leave her spawn behind to rule. She wanted to see the chaos that would ensue without her, wanted to see what curses would be born from a human with her powers. Someone with a different mind, someone hardwired differently. She knew her curses would always be stronger, but would hers be more adaptable? The Mother knew nature would create stronger sorcerers like that white haired prick, so she knew curses would need to evolve as well. They needed to possess intelligence as well as strength, needed to be able to amass followings behind them.

For this to happen, the Mother kicked the girl out of her own house 10 years after their meeting and out into the world on her 18th birthday. Most children would have screamed and cried, but she was excited. She knew from the past how to get by and figured if she could do it blind and basically powerless, that it would be exponentially easier now. She bowed to her Mother as they laid their hands on her.

“Show me you are worthy of my blessings. Make the heaven’s weep at your monstrosities and the realm beg for your pardon. Make me proud or take this dagger and bury it in your heart,” the Mother said with her usual smile as she unveiled her final present to the girl. The girl looked at the gift in awe as she took it into her hands.

“Don’t worry Mother, I will make you prouder than you can ever imagine.”

Notes: ahh hehe my writing is so rusty but I am really excited to write this idea. Updates should be (relatively?) frequent and I am determined to finish it lol. The following chapters will be told in first-person with (Y/N) tags. Canon in this story is that the reader has mostly black hair with only a small white section left and their irises are blood red. Going forward though I will use (h/c) and (e/c) so that it can suite whatever you want for your reading purposes. I hope you all have a wonderful day, see you in the next one muahhh~

[theyanderespecialist]

Abel's Baby Mama (Headcanons) Yandere Baby Daddy SCP-076/Abel X Pregnant Reader

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am running late on writing this, so sorry if I am a bit rushed. Anyways let's do this! hope you enjoy this!]

(Disclaimer: Abel is most likely AROACE in canon and does not need or have the urge for or have a desire for Romantic or Sexual Relationships. But in this let's pretend the fighting machine can feel it kk? Anyway, he is not yandere in canon! This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine! Just do not be illegal or gross about it! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life. Remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon! thank you!]

-Headcanons With Abel Aka SCP 076-2 X Pregnant Reader From the SCP Foundation Online Community-

.Abel had never wanted anyone in his life. That was until he met you. 

.he wanted you and wanted you to be pregnant with his children. 

.so he had been quick to impregnate you. 

.You are the woman of his desires and he would easily want to have offspring with you. 

.Which he will train them to be strong warriors.  

He would be the type of yandere to be very protective over you while you are pregnant. 

.He was raised being one of the first children of Adam and Eve. So he has some old-fashioned ways. 

.Such as being the provider and the protector and that as the woman in his life, you needed to have the children and be his support. 

.So he would want some of those traditional values. 

.His WAY protective side is extreme! In which he does not like to have anyone near you. 

.He also does not like you away from him so he would want to have you by his side at all times. 

.He would end up doing his best to work with the foundation so he can get his containment cell upgraded and that he can have a nice little home for you, him, and both of your children. 

.If anyone tries to get too close to you he gets very possessive and pulls you close to him glaring at the person. 

.If the foundation tried to take you away from him he would go on a murdering spree until he can get to you and keep you safe and sound. 

.He also only wants you and becomes very jealous and very serious. 

.Who does not want to share you with anyone and he demands to be with you in all doctor appointments. 

.If those doctors did anything wrong they would at least have a broken hand or worse case be dead. 

.He would also do a shit ton of research on a healthy pregnancy as he knows that times have changed and he wants the best for his children. 

.He does not mind if the babies are girls or boys, he will treat them the same and raise them to be warriors. 

.Of course, he is going to be protective of them as well and not expect them to go into battle until they are adults. 

.He is realistic with this. 

.When you have morning sickness he is not grossed out about it, instead, he is helping you feel good and holding your hair back. 

.He also would take care of you in any way shape or form. 

.May it be cooking healthy meals for you, and massaging any aches you have. 

.He unlocks a very caregiving side as he is obsessed and in love with you, and you have the amazing job of carrying future warriors. 

.So he needs to be the man and to support you when you have the job to carry his kids. 

.He paces a lot when you do have to leave without him. 

.He cannot stand being away from you and would sometimes break out of containment to find you. 

.He is still very murderous but being with you does mellow him out a bit. 

.Which the foundation takes advantage of. If they can control Abel with his girlfriend aka baby mama aka you and his future kids then they will throw you to him and he will be able to keep you. 

.Your fate is sealed once Abel knows you are pregnant, so maybe do not tell him that you are. 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter done! I hope that you all enjoyed this! 

I will maybe do a scenario on my youtube ASMR reading of this! So check it out and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!] 

[birdkatze]

"But werewolves aren't real?" || werewolf! 141 x werewolf! reader Part 7

Future pairings = poly 141 x reader

Chapter pairings = everyone/reader

Words = 1.7k

[Chapter 6] --- [Chapter 8]

Summery: After moving out of the big city and into the forest, you meet some men that might have some awners about whats been causing your pain.

Explicit under the cut

The drive into town wasn't terrible. Price decided to take you into the smaller town that was only a 15 minute drive instead of the large one.

“They have a lot of handmade stuff here, it's better than the stuff in the big box store…”

Nodding you look out the window as you parked, the town was very picturesque with everything in very good condition. It surprised you, you had definitely expected it to be a bit more run down.

Price, as if reading your mind huffed “Me and the others help keep the town running, we do a lot of repairs and construction..” he grasped your hand and looked at you with a more wolfish expression before licking your face.

You gasp and look at him feeling not as grossed out as before but still…You look at him confused and indignant “Whyyyyy do y’all keep doing that!”

“Gotta scent you..” Price replied, leading you away from the car and into the stores. “There are a few other wolf packs and other occult around..”

Price held the door into a shop and nonchalantly dropped “They need to know you're ours.”

Blue screening for a moment you look at Price shocked, but he quickly leads you into the back of the store. “Wait, are you the guy I talked to on the phone about the construction?”

“Mhhmh, I was wondering when ya’d pick up on that” Price smirked “Pick a few n’ then we'll grab some pillows and get some late lunch.”

You browse through the different fabrics, you pick up a few but set them down as soon as you feel the textures you set them down. You smile after you find three each plush and soft, you show them to Price “Are these ones good?”

He looks at you fondly and nods, “If you like them then they work..now let's grab a few pillows and some pillow covers.”

You nod and let Price lead you around the store again.

“What types do you guys like?” You ask, glancing up at Price.

“Why?”

“Well I assume you guys are gonna spend some time at my house and I want y’all to be comfortable.”

“I’ll grab them, you just pick what you like, yeah?” Price ran his hand gently up and down your back for a moment before moving on to grab the pillows like you asked. You grab a few longer ones and call it a day, trying to find Price only to get stopped by Ghost.

He froze like a deer in headlights. “Uh sorry for this morning…It was wrong of me to say the thi-” he glanced down at his hand and looked flustered for a second “-ngs I did, I am very sorry…?”

Looking closely you could see the smudges of black marker on his hand and wrist.

Ghost’s face was pink from blushing knowing he was caught, he turned away “Sorry my face goes red at random, it's because of how alpha I am.” His deadpan voice carried a hint of sarcasm which caused you to let out a breathless laugh.

“Alright…um do you know where Price is?” Ghost looked around for a second before leading you over to Price. Glancing you see smudged ink all over his hand. Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t tell if he didn’t mean the apology or if he needed to write it down.

“Figure your shit out Simon?”

“Yes Price..” Ghost gave Price a bit of an exaggerated look of exacerbation, his face still tinged with pink.

“Okay, well wring us up…” Gesturing at the cash register, Price glanced around. “Had a lotta traffic today?”

“A very angry Gaz and a group of vampires…”

“Like twilight?” You ask curiously.

“Not quite, duck” Simon replies in a mellow tone. “We don’t have a tiff with them at’ll, quite a good group of blokes most of the time…”

“It’s the fae you have to watch for, Linnie is an ass that’s for true..” Simon huffed as he started to wrap up your order, he paused looking at one of the blankets fondly “I like this one, was a pain to make with the embroidered bits on the corners but its beautiful, I hope this does in your nest”

You nod “It looks really pretty…I take it you make a lotta the stuff in here?”

“It’s hard to find stuff that fits occult bodies at times so I try to make it easy…” Nodding Simon gives you and Price a soft smile before he packs everything up and gives the paper bags to you and Price.

It wasn’t till you and Price got into the car to set the stuff inside did you realize that Price had paid for your stuff. “I can buy lunch..” you offer quickly “Since you paid for that stuff..”

“Duck,” Price paused. “Unless you don’t want this and we’d understand if you didn’t, you are a part of our pack and we take care of each other. Plus I just had to do that so it didn’t look like Simon was embezzling money or something…I can’t remember, it was a hundred years ago when he almost got in trouble for that..”

“Well let me take care of you and pay for your lunch?”

Thinking for a moment, Price begrudgingly nods. “Alright duckie.”

“Yay!” You smile at him happily.

Price leads you into the smaller restaurant “Do you like fish and chips?” he asks as he sits you down. “They have other stuff but it’s my favorite by far.”

“Yeah I think it’s good, I like the tarter sauce!” Smiling you add “It’s also good with lemon…I think I had them with brown gravy one time in the south and mmhmmm, orgasmic” you describe in a deadpan voice.

Price snorts “‘I’ll have to try them with gravy sometime.”

“Can I get either of you anything to drink, perhaps a round of water?” the waitress gives you an odd look but smiles kindly to Price, “I’m Linnie but you know that~ and I’ll be serving you both today~”

“Can I get a lemonade..?” Price asks

The waitress nods and gives a flirty smile to Price. “Sure thing sugar~”

“Can I get the raspberry lemonade?”

“Sure.” The waitress gives you a tight smile before leaving.

“I just want to ask how you are holdin’ up luv.” Price clasped your hands in his. “I know this is a lot, do you have any questions or any reservations? I want to make up for last night and make you as comfortable as possible with all of this..”

“Um, it is a lot…” You trap Price’s boot between your sneakers “It’s very nice to not be in pain though-”

“Do y’all know what you want to eat?” the waitress cuts in.

“We will both take the fish n’ chips.” Price hands the menus back to the waitress.

“Coming right up!”

“Please continue, duck.” Price gave you a genuine smile.

“I do like y’all, it should be alarming but it’s like everything kinda clicked into place? I love spending time with you guys and I've never felt safer…It feels quick. I mean I met y’all yesterday…”

Price nods along. “That’s how it goes with werewolves…either you click or you don't with a pack. Gaz I think would be good to talk to about this because of his experience with his second pack.”

The waitress places the fish and chips in front of you both. Price’s looked really good whereas yours were burned and over cooked. You almost frown but go to shrug it off, it looked edible still.

“Linnie” Price spoke in a flat tone “Would you mind if we could get a different plate, this one looks burned and the lemon smells rotten…”

“Oh! Oops..” Linnie grabbed the plate and went back to the kitchen, she gave you a side eye before leaving.

“Thanks” You say quietly to Price.

“No problem duckie.” Price smiled.

You both ate your food, the fish and chips were really good which pulled a smile onto your face. You sucked down your lemonade and water quickly, you felt oddly really thirsty and almost famished which made sense since you hadn’t really eaten or drank much in the past week. As you both finished up you excused yourself to the bathroom.

You felt oddly warm as you washed your hands. Looking in the mirror you notice your appearance looked a little wild, you also seemed a bit warmer than usual. Shrugging it off you go back out only to find Price had paid much to your protest.

“You really didn't need to do that..” You pout as you get out to the car “I-”

“Love, I just wanna get you back to your house.”

“Why…?”

“I think your pre-heat is starting sweetheart…”

“It is?”

“Mhhm..” Price hums, looking at you concerned. “What’s going on in your head?”

“I’m kinda scared to be honest.” You explain, watching the view out the window as Price drove. “You guys are still okay with taking care of me right?”

“I think Gaz would kill me if we don’t.” Price set one of his hands on your thigh and squeezed your thigh twice, giving you a fond look. “We also like you duck, you seem like a very good person.”

“Even though you’ve only known me for like a day?”

“Yes duck.” Price glanced over at you tilting his head slightly. “Werewolves are good judges of character for the most part and pack bonds are easily formed when people are compatible.”

“Oh.”

“You alright, love? I know this is a lot in a very short time, it was similar for me n’ Ghost. We just clicked instantly, n’ same with Gaz and Soap.”

Nodding, you see the cottage pull into view “That makes sense..”

As the car pulls to a stop Price runs out of the truck to open your door.

“Here ya’ go duck.” Price smiles at you genuinely.

You climb out of the truck and smile back at Price. All four of the men, for the most part, had been very sweet to you and it made you feel so soft and special.

“Can I kiss ya’ duck?”

You blush and smile. “You promise not to lick my face?”

“Yes duck, I won’t lick your fa-”

You cut Price off and press a chaste kiss to his lips as soon as you have confirmation he will not be licking your face. He freezes for a second and you think you’ve done something wrong up until he pulls you back into a deeper kiss.

As you two part you hear a wolf-whistle from Gaz as he stands in the doorway to the front door. “Let’s get you set up duck! I can smell you from here..”

You blush and follow Gaz inside the house feeling treasured.

[fadedin2u]

pick up and roll the dice (ch. 1)

read in between the lines, i know you love me…

Summary: You’ve been best friends with Ellie since she moved into your neighborhood in elementary school, and now, you’re sharing a dorm room together at college. What could go wrong when you both start reading between the lines? Based on the song Hold On by The Internet.

word count: 2.5k

content: childhood best friends!au, dealer!ellie, fem!reader, college!au, modern!au, hurt/comfort, ellie’s a little bit of a player, ellie is a simp (not surprising), art major!ellie, kinda slow burn??

warnings: sexual harassment (mentioned), drug usage (weed), lots of cursing (what do you expect), men (mentioned), expect nsfw chapters in the future so MDNI 18+

notes: this is my first fic i’ve written for tlou, and it’s about damn time bc i’ve been lurking in the ellie williams x reader tags for months lmao, hope you enjoy! next chapter should be out by the end of the weekend! reblogs/likes are much appreciated :) let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

You’re welcomed into your dorm room by the smell of pot smoke. You walk in, already in a foul mood, shaking with adrenaline and anxiety. You drop your bag on the floor and kick off your shoes.

Ellie, your roommate and close friend since childhood, is sitting on her twin bed, leaning out the window as she smokes a joint. She’s dressed casually in a pair of old sweatpants and a t-shirt, her auburn hair haphazardly thrown up into a half-bun, most strands too short to all be gathered into a single bun. When she catches sight of you, she immediately can tell something is up.

“You okay?” Ellie asks, tapping the ash from her joint out the window.

You walk over to Ellie’s bed and melodramatically collapse face-first with a “Hmmph.”

“I’m dropping out.” You deadpan, your voice muffled by Ellie’s duvet.

Ellie takes a long drag from her joint and exhales a puff of smoke before turning to you, her eyebrows raised. “Huh? What?”

She sits up, holding the joint between her fingers before she gestures for you to clarify.

“You can’t drop out. What’re you gonna do all day? Sit around and eat Oreos?”

You stay face-planted onto Ellie’s bed.

“Yup. And I’ll be lazy and happy.” You say.

It takes every ounce of self-restraint inside of Ellie to not shove you off of her bed right this second. Instead, she leans forward and nudges your shoulder with her knee.

"Babe. Honey. Sweetie. Angel-Face. Get up. You sound like a dumbass right now.”

You roll over, and Ellie notices that your eyes are red and puffy, clearly having cried before coming back to the dorm.

“Hey! I’m having a crisis!” You exclaim, folding your arms over your chest.

Ellie’s face softens and her eyebrows furrow, concerned. “Hey… What’s going on? Want some of this?” She offers the joint to you.

You take it gratefully, taking a long drag. You shake her head, looking down at your miniskirt. “I really need to stop wearing this skirt in public… When I was walking back here, two dudes started following me and saying weird, gross shit. I tried telling them off, but I must have looked so pathetic that they just laughed… They followed me almost the whole way here.”

You pass the joint back to Ellie, saying sarcastically, “So, yes. In conclusion, I’m dropping out.”

Ellie is stunned silent. Her high buzz instantly fades and she reaches out to put a comforting hand on your shoulder. Ellie doesn't say anything at first, but she looks down at you with a worried expression on her face.

She puts out her half-finished joint, and scoots forward on the bed towards you. Her expression is stern and angry, and she seems utterly furious on your behalf.

“Did those fucking pieces of shit touch you? Did you call the cops?”

As she’s speaking, Ellie’s entire demeanor changes, and it’s obvious how upset these men made her. Ellie always seems to have a lot of rage built-up inside of her, but it’s amplified now.

You bite your lip, looking down.

“They didn’t touch me… I didn’t call the cops. I wasn’t thinking clearly, I should have called someone, but I was so freaked out, and… I’m sorry, Els.” You say quietly.

Ellie grabs your arm and pulls you towards her.

"It's okay, babe. It's not your fault."

Ellie leans forward to hug you tightly, rubbing your back.

"Those dickwipes should have never said anything to you. Let alone touched you. If they ever do that again, you tell me, and I'll take care of it."

Ellie takes a deep breath and sighs. She leans back against the wall and pulls you with her, keeping you close. You allow yourself to be pulled into Ellie’s hold, grateful, and you feel tears press at the back of your eyes.

“I’m sorry, I really don’t want to cry again.” You say, hiding your face in Ellie’s shoulder.

Ellie wraps her arms around you tighter, comforting you.

"Hey. It's alright to cry. Let it all out." She murmurs soothingly. "Don't be ashamed. You were just fucking harassed."

She holds you, continuing to rub your back and kissing the top of your head. Ellie feels sick at the thought of you hurting or struggling alone.

You sniffle as a few tears run down your cheeks, still hiding your face in Ellie’s shoulder.

“I just don’t understand what I can possibly do in those situations. And I feel like they happen all the fucking time.”

You wipe your face, “Like fucking yesterday! When I got catcalled at 8AM by the construction workers working on the new science building, and I was just trying to get to class!”

You shake your head, “I just feel so helpless in those situations, because they don’t even see me as a real person.”

"Well, you gotta make them see you as a force to be reckoned with." Ellie says, her voice stern.

She pauses, and lets out an exhale.

"These guys obviously aren't going to stop catcalling and harassing women, so either we ignore the comments, or we learn how to respond. It's a fucking shame that it has to be this way but..."

Ellie sighs and leans back. She rubs your shoulder with one hand, and her other hand gently rests on your thigh.

You feel your cheeks go hot, hyper-focused on Ellie’s hand on your leg.

“But, Els… I can’t fight for shit. There’s no way those guys could ever be intimidated by me the way you can intimidate them.”

You wipe your face, embarrassed by your tears. “Like, how could they possibly see me as anything other than a ‘slut who’s asking for it’, if I recall what they wouldn’t stop saying to me correctly.” You say, quoting the men who followed you home.

Ellie leans in a little closer and rests her head on your shoulder.

"I think that my girl can kick ass and dish it out as good as she takes it." Ellie's expression looks serious, and she gently squeezes your thigh as she speaks.

"Like, have you ever seen those videos on Instagram where girls absolutely own some big dudes? That'll be you, dude. Trust me, I know exactly what you're capable of. You just gotta learn how to take up space."

You laugh a little, wiping your face again.

“Is this you telling me that I need to take a boxing class?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

Ellie chuckles, and smiles as she squeezes your leg again.

"Hell yeah. Take a boxing class. I wanna see you punch a fuckin' guy's lights out the next time he wants to harass you."

Ellie pauses and takes a deep breath.

"If you're worried about money for lessons or fuck-all, you know I got your back, right?" Ellie says earnestly. "And if there's any guy who's giving you problems, just say the fucking word and I'll kick their ass for you."

You laugh again, sniffling as you hug Ellie.

“My knight in shining armor.” You joke.

You pull back, taking a breath. “Thank you though, seriously. Today was just an overall shitty day, and I’m just glad that I get to come back to our dorm and be with my best friend.”

"Anytime." Ellie's expression is soft as she smiles at you.

Ellie glances at the joint on her bedside table, and glances back at you.

"Wanna hit that? Or are you tapped-out?"

You go to pick up the joint, and use Ellie’s lighter to re-light it.

“Me? Tapping out? Please-“ You say as you smile at Ellie, taking a drag.

Ellie chuckles, watching you with a fond smile.

You pass the joint to Ellie. “Besides, I’m chilling the fuck out tonight. Today was garbage, and I don’t want to keep thinking about anything.”

Ellie chuckles and shakes her head as she takes the joint.

"I feel so bad that you had such a fucking awful day. I know you've been going through some stuff recently, so today was the absolute last thing you needed."

Ellie inhales a long drag, and looks down at you.

"Can I ask you something, though?"

You nod, “Yeah, what’s up?”

You take the joint, hit it, and pass it back to Ellie.

Ellie takes another inhale and holds the smoke in for a moment.

"Do you ever just... like... hate men?" she looks at you. "I mean, you know... with everything you experience, and the guys you described today. Like, you ever just look at a guy, and immediately start hating him?"

Ellie pauses, taking another hit, "I mean, it's all I can think about, half the time, and I just... I can't fucking stand them most of the time."

You sigh, taking a hit from the joint and nodding.

“Yeah. I wish I didn’t. I wish that most men didn’t act the way they do, but they do. It’s kinda hard not to hate people who objectify and demean you every day of your life just for existing.”

Ellie pauses before speaking, "Do you think that Joel might ever be like that? I mean, I don't think so. He's a good guy and all. Just... you never know."

Ellie pauses and sighs. She's obviously been worrying about this for a while.

"Am I being dumb? Am I being stupid for thinking like that? I don't know. I just… I'm worried that, one day, people I love like Jesse and my dad are going to turn out to be a couple of fucking perverts."

You pause, having known Joel for years, taking a hit from the joint.

“I- I don’t know. I think they’re good people, especially Joel, but you never really know, until they slip up,” You say.

You squeeze Ellie’s shoulder, “I do really think that Joel is one of my favorite people I’ve gotten the chance to know, and I have crazy high standards for men. Your dad would never do anything to hurt you, and I don’t think he’d do anything to any one else either.”

You pass the joint to Ellie.

Ellie takes the joint and inhales, then passes it back to you.

"Yeah, you're right. You're totally right, and I know that. It's just hard, because I have such a negative image of guys right now, but you're right."

Ellie leans back and relaxes, "I just feel like I've been having some trust issues lately, and it sucks, and I've been… paranoid about people."

She pauses, and her voice starts to falter. "I just don't want to be let down like I have, you know?”

You nudge Ellie’s leg with your knee, “Hey. I won’t let you down. Or, at least, I’ll always try to not let you down, no matter what.”

You smile at Ellie, “We’re a team. Always have been, always will be.”

Ellie's eyes light up, “That's right. We will always have each other's backs. We’re always going to be there for each other."

Ellie takes a hit from the joint, and leans back. "I love you, you know that? Even though I've been a total bitch, these last few weeks… I need you more than you could possibly know."

Ellie pauses and looks down at you. "You are, without a doubt, the best friend I've ever had in my whole life."

You take the joint from Ellie, hitting it with a smile on your face as you internally curse yourself for getting flustered. Your head feels fuzzy from the weed.

“The feeling is mutual.” You say, passing Ellie the joint.

“I never got to ask, by the way, but how was your date with that girl… Kaylee? Karlie?” You ask to change the subject, trying to remember the name of Ellie’s latest of many campus flings.

Ellie laughs, "It's Kylie." she corrects, smirking and nudging your thigh.

"The date was a fun distraction, even though Kylie is a complete airhead. And, uh..." Ellie pauses, her face warming with embarrassment.

"...she tried to kiss me, and I completely froze.”

Ellie takes a hit and shakes her head, "I can't believe that I turned her down! She's cute and a fuckin’ cheerleader. I should have gone for it, I probably ruined my chances with her."

You laugh a little, pushing down the spikes of jealousy piercing your chest.

“Ellie Williams froze when a girl tried to kiss her?” You tease, knowing that Ellie is normally fairly bold.

“What happened? Were you too nervous or something?” You ask, taking a hit from the joint and passing it back to Ellie.

Ellie's face is a mix of embarrassment and frustration as you tease her. Ellie pauses, thinking.

"...Well, I froze because... I… I don't know. She seemed like a nice girl, but she's so... shallow."

Ellie sighs, taking a hit from the joint, and leans back.

"I'm a horrible dater, I know. I just have such a hard time connecting with people, I don't know."

You frown, “Hey. Don’t beat yourself up. She just doesn’t sound like the right girl, and that’s totally fine. You don’t need to get mad at yourself for not having an instant connection with a girl just because she’s hot.”

You pass the joint to Ellie, “Okay, you have the rest.”

Ellie smiles at you as she takes a hit and holds it in.

Ellie lets it out and shakes her head. "...Yeah, you're right. I just think I'm just trying so hard to find a connection with someone, y'know?"

"It's just hard to really trust someone new… I've been hurt by a lot of people in my life, and the last thing I want is to get hurt again." Ellie explains, her freckled cheeks rosy.

You sigh, “It is really scary to be vulnerable like that with people, I… I really fucking get that.”

You play with the hem of your skirt as you talk, “But there are people who are good, and trustworthy, and won’t leave you in the dust. I mean, you’re proof of that for me.”

Ellie's expression softens as she looks over at you

"I guess we are really similar in that way. We're both traumatized, we're both paranoid, and we're both distrustful. Fuck, who could blame us?" Ellie says with a shrug.

Ellie pauses, "I'm just glad I have you. You're the only people who I think I can really be myself around. Everyone else can fuck off. But not you."

Your stoned, hazy mind is thankfully quiet as you lean against Ellie, the two of you sat side-by-side on her bed.

Ellie’s cheeks get more pink as you do, her eyes half-lidded and red as she pulls you into her.

“Just… Relax. You really fucking deserve it.” Ellie says softly, her voice low and raspy from the smoke.

You nuzzle your face into her shirt, closing your eyes as you melt into her, and everything is good.

Ellie looks down at you, her pupils dilated and cheeks flushed. She looks back up at the ceiling, clenching her eyes shut as she thinks, I’m fucked.

chapter 2

texts with ellie and reader

[olivianyx]

WAKE UP CALL CUS Y'ALLS THICK ASS SKULLS NEED IT

⚠️ tough love rant, I prob won't be nice to y'all atp, swearing ⚠️

Y'all better stop asking others to manifest for you. Like wtf? You're the fucking creator. Tf are you asking to create it for the creator?? You're God. Just stop whining and complaining. Omfg just stop. Who said you can't manifest? Who said you can't have all the things you desire?? Nobody but you. Like aren't you stupid asshole just tired of that shitty life you're living?? How long are you gonna fucking live this life? It doesn't even benefit you, and you dumbass just keep complaining and thinking about the same old story again and again, and are repeating the same shit again in the 3d 🤦‍♀️ but still would go on complaining and complaining. Who's the ultimate power in here? YOU.

If you don't keep your thoughts in check and change your reality, who else will? You think a prince Charming or Flynn rider or Marilyn Monroe or mulan will walk into your life and change your entire destiny?? Gross. You're the one in charge and you should work on your mind set. You are the ultimate problem. And with this mindset you're never going anywhere but stay in the same loop until fAtE decides what's gonna happen to you. BULLSHIT. You only gotta work on your mindset alone. Like you don't have to climb the goddamn mount Everest or run 40 miles or do 1000 pushups a day to change yourself. Tf, you only just need to ignore unwanted thoughts and feed in thoughts which is favourable and live in the end, keep yourself fulfilled, that's it. No more bullshit.

Is it that hard?? Like just switching a thought with something favourable is hard? Bitch don't gimme that shit anymore. Trust yourself and move on. You are the only problem here. You don't focus on improving yourself and tell others to manifest or affirm for you. Like tf??? Why tf would you give free will to someone else that's not you? Why do you trust that person so much that you don't trust yourself? Nobody's gonna come with you till the end. Everybody and everything is a chapter and it'll keep moving forward, and you'll still be left behind still figuring out what went wrong.

STOP. JUST. STOP. STOP WITH THAT AND DECIDE THAT YOUR DESIRES ARE HERE AND EVERYTHING IS GOING ON IN YOUR FAVOUR.

Even if you're doing everything and nothing is working out, you haven't fulfilled yourself internally and just forcing the 3d to change. Wtf? You know the 3d obeys the 4d, then why are you inducing disgusting thoughts in the 4d and expect something like a miracle to happen in the 3d?? Make it make sense. You dumb dip shit, I'm gonna slap you in your dreams. I mean you're really dumb. Like just think whatever you want is already yours and it is. Cus the 3d should obey. Like whatever tf you want to happen is possible. Everything is possible. You ugly ass bitch just stop with that complaining and just go do whatever you want to change your thoughts.

Just fucking decide that whatever you want is already yours. It doesn't matter at all. The past doesn't matter at all. What you did 10 years ago doesn't matter. What you did 5 months ago doesn't matter. What you did 4 minutes ago doesn't matter. Only now exists. No past, no future. Just the present moment and that motherfucking concept called time doesn't fucking exist so stop stressing about that shit. Just decide. Bitch just decide that you just have what you want and the past doesn't matter. Just fucking be as if you already have it, don't stress about it. Suppose you have your phone with you, do you affirm for it everyday that it's yours? Or visualize? Hell no. Your phone is just yours. How do feel about it? Actually you'd feel nothing, you just KNOW it's yours. The same concept here you absolute idiot.

If you forgot to do sats, or you didn't affirm or if you wavered 3 minutes ago, or you had negative thoughts, like bitch those things don't matter as long as you come back to the track. It doesn't matter. Stop fucking stressing about methods or affirming. You already have it. Get that shit into your skull. I don't care what you do, I want y'all to start it today, start now. Just decide that's it. You're so dumb that you don't even make mental efforts that lead you to experiencing miracles dumbass. You're like really really dumb that I'm done. Like gimme a break.

JUST FUCKING DECIDE LIKE RN THAT YOU HAVE WHAT YOU WANT, AND WHATEVER YOU'RE STRESSING ABOUT DOESN'T MATTER.

YOU ALREADY HAVE YOUR DESIRES BITCH.

Like why would you assume that nothing is changing?? There's always movement and you dumbass don't notice it. Even if you see that there's no movement, that's because you idiot assumed there wasn't any. You gotta take matters in your own hand you dip shit. Don't fucking get triggered by the 3d cus it's just your older thoughts and nothing else. Your new thoughts that you focus on should also be reflected in the 3d like instantly. There's no time in between, like really fuck that shit. The minute you affirm, it's already manifested in the 4d bitch. You don't gotta stress at all you dumb ass. The 4d is the ultimate reality. You just gotta be fulfilled here. How? By LIVING AS IF YOU ALREADY HAVE IT OR LIVING IN THE END. The 3d will catch up as you remain fulfilled in the 4d, like almost instantly. Is this a harder concept to understand?? For example, you wear a green dress and look in the mirror, you see the reflection wearing green dress too. Cus it's a fucking mirror and it shows you what you wear. Suddenly you wanna wear a purple dress, and you change your dress and look in the mirror and the mirror shows you purple dress cus you're wearing it. THE SAME FUCKING CONCEPT HERE. THE GREEN DRESS IS THE 4D AND THE MIRROR IS THE 3D. YOU CHANGE THE 4D (DRESS) FIRST IN ORDER TO SEE DRESS YOU'RE WEARING IN THE MIRROR (3D). HOWEVER, YOU GOTTA CHANGE THE DRESS TO SEE THE CHANGE IN THE REFLECTION. What y'all do is, go fucking break or beg the mirror to show you that you're wearing a purple dress when infact you're still wearing the green one 🙄🤦‍♀️ and complain that it's not showing what you want. Like which planet are exactly from?? Like tf is wrong with your dumbass brain?? Make it make sense. Change the dress and go see the changed reflection of the dress.

Just fucking stop with that bullshit and go fucking have whatever you want. You're God. Like what validation do you fucking need?? You're the validation. Your validation is enough. If your desires don't manifest instantly or like in less than a day, then you aren't fulfilling yourself internally. You aren't fulfilled yet. Cus it's impossible for the delay. Time doesn't exist. There's no fucking delay. It should be instant. Like just fulfill yourself, do whatever you think works. Don't go so something someone posted on the internet and complain about not getting results dumbass. You already have it all. You're the main character, so stop behaving like a stray dog.

Peace out <3

[vivwritesfics]

Waiting For The Sun

Chapter Two

Rhett Abbott has been hearing his soulmate in his head for ten years. She's the sweetest thing, nicknamed Muffin after her love of baking. Rhett doesn't know who Muffin is, doesn't know where she is, but hearing her voice always makes his day better. But then Trevor Tillerson is killed and Rhett's life is thrown into chaos. Through it all, Muffin in there for her soulmate. She wants nothing more than to find him, even through the chaos.

Soulmate AU

a/n: timeline might be out of canon order but fuck it

Series Masterlist

Fifteen year old Rhett Abbott hated Shakespeare. He sat in his room, his usually messy room, and attempted to write this essay. But his handwriting was chicken scratch and his soulmate wasn't responding to him.

He swore, if she'd gone to bed...

Well, Rhett couldn't blame her. It had gone midnight and, after near a year of being in each others heads, he knew her routine. But he also knew how much she loved Shakespeare.

Come on, wake up, he thought. But, if he woke her up, he never would have forgiven himself.

Without her there to keep him company while he struggled through his homework, Rhett gave up. He capped his pen, dropped it onto his paper, and stood from his desk. That was a problem for Tomorrow Rhett to deal with, even if the thought of getting detention terrified him. Well, not getting detention, but he knew his mom would never let him go to the rodeo if he got detention.

Are you okay?

He hadn't expected her voice in his head. What're you doing awake? Rhett asked his soulmate as he crawled beneath his bedsheets. They needed changing, he knew, but he was a gross teenaged boy. They always needed changing.

There was a pause before she responded, so long that Rhett thought she had gone back to sleep. Are you okay? She asked again. Even in his head, she sounded so damn tired. Guilt hit Rhett at all angles, but he couldn't deny how warm hearing her voice made him feel.

I'm okay, he answered, and her sigh filled his head. It wasn't of annoyance, though. No, she was relieved. Just doin' homework.

Do you need help with it? She asked, voice sweet in his head.

That was the thing about his soulmate. Ever since her voice had entered his head a year ago, she'd been so damn sweet. She'd helped him with so much homework over the past year. Now, Rhett wasn't stupid, but working on the ranch and training with his dad to be a future bull riding champion took up most of his time.

Tomorrow, if you can, he replied. Get some sleep, darlin'.

That woke her up slightly. The first time her soulmate had ever given her some sort of nickname. Riddled with exhaustion, Rhett didn't even noticed that the nickname had slipped. She didn't mind, though, not in the slightest.

Somehow, Rhett knew she hadn't yet gone back to sleep. Something in him could just feel that she was still awake. What were you dreamin' about? He asked, hands behind his head as he stared up at the popcorn ceiling. On the few instances that they spoke late into the night, Rhett stared at the ceiling and tried to imagine what she looked like. The sound of her voice gave him no indicators, but it didn't stop him from trying.

I dreamt that the sky opened up and the stars were raining down on us, she said in his head.

Rhett could see it, laying in the south pasture with a faceless girl as vibrant stairs began shooting across the sky, falling down around them and illuminating the Abbott Ranch. Sounds beautiful, he said to her, a yawn leaving his lips.

'm getting tired. In his head, her voice came out as groggy, and Rhett let the scene in his head change. A faceless girl, struggling to stay awake as she spoke to him.

Sleep, Rhett said to her.

Are you gonna sleep, too? She asked and Rhett gave a hum. Before you go, what's your homework? I can think about it while I'm waiting for you to wake up.

Rhett told her. Not long after that, the two of them were asleep. Rhett couldn't help but dream of himself as a young Leonardo DiCaprio in the nineties, falling for a faceless girl he couldn't have, a facless girl that kissed the poison from his lips and took a knife to his own chest before collapsing on top of him.

***

Twenty four year old Rhett woke up to the smell of bacon filling his nose. He opened his eyes and shut them immediately. Trust him to be too drunk to close his curtains. Mornin' Muffin, he said in his mind, praying he didn't sound too much like he was hanging out of his ass.

Her melodic giggle filled his mind. Almost immediately his day brightened up and he pushed himself out of bed. Well, good morning, she said to him. How does that head feel?

Suddenly, dread filled him. He had gotten pretty good at playing sober on the instances that she was still awake while he was out drinking. But, not last night, apparently. Ah, fuck. What did I say?

You were trying to tell me things about yourself and then getting frustrated when it working work. Even in his head, he could hear the amusement in her voice. You're cute when you're drunk and frustrated.

He groaned, audibly, as he walked out of his bedroom. How do you put up with me? He asked, somewhat rhetorically, as he wandered into the kitchen and greeted his family.

Believe it or not, you were made for me, bucko, she replied as he stole the bacon from Amy's plate. She complained, but Rhett didn't hear it as he took his own plate from his mother and sat down at the table.

Me? Made for you? How do you know you weren't made for me?

She laughed as his family found out just how hungover he was. But with that laugh filling his head, all was right in the world.

She was there through the morning as Rhett worked. She kept him company as he fed the cattle and tacked up for the morning. All the while she was making bread or reading a book. When the Tillerson boys showed up at the fence that separated them from the Abbott's, she was quiet, let him do what he needed to do. But, the moment he was grumbling, her soothing voice filled his head, calming him down.

I'm riding tonight, he said as he untacked his horse for the night. He brushed over her back, brushing away any loose and uncomfortable hairs.

Oh.

It was no secret to Rhett how much his bull riding worried her. For the first two years of his career to had listened as he fell off and hurt himself. It had taken Rhett those two years to learn how to quiet his mind when he was riding, for the soul purpose of not making her panic.

Tell me where you place, she said to him.

Of course, Muffin, he replied and headed back to the house for dinner.

Rhett loved it when his family watched him ride, of course he did. But he always felt like something was missing. He knew exactly what was missing, and couldn't wait for the day she was sitting there, between his mom and Perry. He'd ride better with her watching, he knew.

I'm going out with my friends tonight, she told him as he waited for his turn to ride.

Rhett couldn't help but grin to himself. She always had fun when she went out, always got drunk rather quickly. Every time she would ramble about their future together and he didn't mind that one bit.

Gonna celebrate my win?

You know it, cowboy.

Those were the words that played in his head as he sat on Twister. Fucking Twister. Everybody knew that the bull hadn't ridden well in weeks. But Rhett tried. With all of his might, he tried. But that bull tossed him around like a ragdoll, until he was pushing himself up from the sand and picking up his hat.

Muffin, you there? He asked as he walked over to the fence, footsteps sluggish.

Rhett waited a moment before she answered him. Yeah, I'm here. How did it go?

Rhett could have lied, could have told her everything was hunky dory, that he'd placed well and made it through to the next round. But she always seemed to know when he was lying to her. Maybe he sounded different when he lied. No matter what it was, she knew.

He sucked in a breath. I didn't place.

Oh, baby. He couldn't help but grimace at the sympathy. Bad bull?

He breathed through his nose as his father approached the fence. Maybe, he answered. I don't know Muffin. I just... But, as his dad started speaking, the words died in his mind.

When his dad and the rest of his family stepped back from the fence, gave him some space, his eyes met those of Maria Olivares.

Maria Olivares. There was a time that Rhett thought Maria was his soulmate. He was sixteen and connected the dots in his head to make it so. It didn't matter that the pieces didn't entirely fit or that she didn't look his way. Sixteen year old Rhett made it work.

But seeing her now, something inside of him sparked to life. He raised his hand towards her slightly. She was his Muffin, even if she didn't realise it. Maria smiled back and his heart seemingly skipped a beat.

It didn't much help that his Muffin had disappeared. But he'd seen that Maria was busy, and it made sense in his mind. She turned away from him and Rhett climbed out of the ring. Fuck, he needed a drink after that ride. Have fun, Muffin, he said as he climbed into his truck and began driving home.

It was a sucky night for Rhett. He didn't make it through and his girl was too busy to talk to him. He'd never fault her for it, though. She was having fun, and that was all that mattered.

Perry was having a night as shitty as his own. After Joy had stopped by earlier with the news about the FBI dropping Rebecca's case, he'd been in an understandably sour mood. That was why Rhett invited him out to the Pit Bar. That was how he found himself slamming back tequila shots in the Pit Bar with Perry.

Drunk Rhett was a rambler. He'd been drunk enough to now and Perry had seen him drunk often enough to know it, too. The topic of Rhett's drunken ramblings were almost always his bull riding career and his soulmate. Now, sober Rhett would never speak to Perry about his soulmate, not after Perry had gone ahead and married a woman that wasn't his soulmate.

But drunk Rhett couldn't help himself as he told Perry all about the last ten years with her. And then Maria Olivares walked into the Pit Bar.

She was out with her friends and his Muffin was out with her friends. It made so much sense to Rhett that this woman was his soulmate, but then why was she hanging onto Trevor Tillerson?

Perry saw the way Rhett looked at Maria. "You've been convinced this girl is your soulmate since you were sixteen years old," he said. "Go speak to her," he insisted.

When she approached the bar, Rhett did. But there so no opportunity to speak to her that time. The next time, their conversation was shirt, but that conversation was enough to reaffirm it to Rhett that Maria really was his soulmate. But then she went back to Trevor, and Perry joined him at the bar.

Drunk Rhett said whatever he wanted. Drunk Rhett made his big brother cry. He knew he shouldn't have said it the second the words left his lips. "I'm sorry, man," he said as he caught Maria's eye. "Go on, go get some air."

You look really pretty tonight, he said to no response. Maria still looked at him, though. And, with no Trevor Tillerson holding his arm around her shoulders, Maria joined him.

"Hey," she said to him for the second time that night.

Rhett tapped his fingers against the green neck of his beer bottle. "Hey," he repeated, but then that single word was slurred. There was so much he wanted to say, stuff about how she couldn't swear until she was fourteen or that, at sixteen, he had to teach her what a handjob was. All things Rhett had been through with his soulmate.

But enough doubt lingered in the back of his mind that he said nothing. What if Maria wasn't his soulmate and he blurted all of that out? They were memories between him, his soulmate, and nobody else.

Maria led the conversation, but Rhett didn't much mind. He sipped his beer and listened, his usual polite but somewhat shy smile playing on his lips. For a split second he turned to the door, tried to catch a glimpse of Perry through glass pane.

"Ah shit," he said as he stood. Maria said nothing. Certainly didn't scold him for his language as he headed outside. But Rhett wasn't thinking about that. As soon as he stepped into the cool night air, he was pushing Trevor Tillerson away from his brother.

He didn't know that Maria was watching the scuffle, didn't know she was there when Rhett put Trevor on the ground. Not without coming away with his own scrapes and bruises, of course. His hand fucking killed from where it had connected with Trevor's face.

As soon as Trevor was on the ground, Rhett turned back to the bar, back towards Maria. "That guy is the biggest asshole you're ever gonna meet," he said and headed back inside.

Muffin? He tried, but there was no response. Either she'd heard everything he'd been thinking through the fight and was disgusted, or she'd fallen asleep hours ago. But she wasn't Maria, Rhett knew that much.

He didn't know what happened between Perry and Trevor while he was pulling the truck around. But Rhett didn't need to know as he helped Perry load the body of Trevor Tillerson into his truck. Perry had fucking killed someone, and his finger prints were now on the body.

Fuck.

But he knew for a fact that he'd never been this panicked before. This was the kind of panic that would have her waking up to check on him, if she was even asleep. The breaths Rhett took in were deep and calming. He kept his emotions in check as he drove himself, Perry, and the body back to the Abbott ranch.

Fuck, he hoped his Muffin was sleeping.

Rhett Taglist: @finnydraws

@writtingrose

@nurse-sainz

@xoxabs88xox

@afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff

Series Taglist: @nessjo

@butterflykale1doscope

@eternallyvenus

[messedupfan]

Chapter 17

Summary: Wanda looks over her plans for her future after standing up to Vision. You discover something shocking about your friend on a night out. And the kids join you for a special haircut as Wanda collects her prize.

A/n: Hello! I didn't plan on posting this so soon but eh what the hell. Hope y'all don't kill me. Enjoy!

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Wanda stands in the middle of the large empty property that she now owns. She walks around the area as she visualizes a house. She sees the walls and the windows. She thinks about where the kitchen would be and the kitchen table for breakfasts and intimate family meals. Then she walks into a dining room where she’ll host holidays and birthdays. She pretends to climb a beautiful staircase as she envisions the separate rooms for her boys. A couple more rooms, maybe one of them is a guest room and the other is an office space. Then she sees a master bedroom. The image of climbing into bed after a long day has her heart racing as she pictures collapsing into your arms. 

Her phone ringing breaks her away from her fantasy world and back to the land with overgrown grass. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and sighs. “Hello Vision,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “What can I help you with?”

“Mom?” Tommy's voice has Wanda softening her tone almost instantly. 

“Tommy, hi, why are you calling me with your dad's phone? Is everything okay?” She asks as she starts to fill with worry. 

“Dad says he has to go out of town for something… for work! I mean um… I mean he has to go out of town for work. Can you come pick us up?” Wanda sighs when she can hear Vision correcting their son. She doesn't understand the man. He is constantly making a big racket about being in Tommy and Billy’s life but this is the third time in the last couple of months that he has had her pick up the boys halfway through the week. 

“I'll be there soon,” Wanda says in a soft tone. She does her best to not let her frustrations with his father affect her tone. Vision is being harsh enough as it is. “I love you, sweetheart. Let your brother know that I love him too, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Tommy says. “Bye, mom.”

Wanda hangs up the phone. She takes one last glance around the empty land and sighs. One day, she will be able to fulfill her dream. But that is years away. 

“Vision, you can't keep doing this to them,” she says quietly once the boys are in her car. 

“It's my work, Wanda. It's what pays the bills,” he says with a roll of his eyes. 

“Oh I'm very familiar with your work,” Wanda retorts. “Who is she this time? Another TA? No, that pairing has to bore you by now. Besides, you don't need a dating profile in order to date a student.” 

“You've been stalking me?” He asks, he's more intrigued than anything. 

Wanda makes a face, “Gross. No. That would mean I gave a shit about your personal life. I have friends that use dating apps. And you weren't exactly discrete about it on your profile.” 

Vision’s face starts to get red and Wanda knows that she has struck a nerve. Not only did she reveal that she knows he isn't being faithful in his current marriage, she revealed how she found out. She is almost certain that the mention of her friends being involved has painted a mental picture of her having a laugh about him with them. She’d put good money on Vision picturing you as the friend, causing him to grow even more upset. 

“Vis, I don't care what you do in your free time. I care that it affects my kids,” she states firmly. “Either end the affair or give me full custody. Because I will not allow you to keep hurting them with this deadbeat father act you have going on.” She starts to walk towards her car expecting him to slam the door shut but instead, he follows her. 

“Oh you'd love to have me out of the picture, wouldn't you? So that you can live happily ever after with, Y/n! That's it, isn't it?” He shouts behind her. Wanda stops and spins as she lets out a malicious laugh.

“What is with your obsession with Y/n? They have been nothing but kind to our boys when you fail them time and time again. They are always there for the twins when you've abandoned our boys. Y/n has covered for your ass over and over,” she takes steps towards Vision as she defends her friend to him. “They do nothing but try to make you look better to those boys. You should be thanking them instead of threatening them! You have no idea the kind of person they are. And it's not their fault that you are such a sorry excuse for a father. Gosh, your own family finds it difficult to be related to you.” 

Vision shakes his head, “You are a vindictive cunt.” 

“Call me all of the names you want. You can't hurt me anymore,” Wanda glares at her former husband defiantly. She scoffs. “You're a pitiful man. I hope karma gets you one day.” She walks away and doesn't turn back once as he continues to shout profanities at her. She does, however, raise her middle finger at him. 

“Mom, are you okay?” Billy asks from the backseat once Wanda has joined her boys in the car. She turns back and reaches out to hold his hand. She smiles at him and squeezes his hand. 

“Mommy is more than okay,” she says confidently. She doesn't recognize herself at this moment and it's a fantastic feeling. “Are you boys ready to go? You didn't leave behind any important homework or school books right?” 

“Right,” the boys say at the same time. 

“Okay, let's go home then,” she smiles at each of her kids before starting her car and driving away from Vision’s house. When she pulls into the driveway of her current home she can feel the ghost of the person she used to be. The woman that once believed living a life on eggshells was normal. That she was always meant to be careful around her husband. That her children were to be completely obedient and quiet. That woman and that life haunt every corner of the house. They start to hide when the boys laugh loudly at something that happens in the movie they’re watching. But when you stop by to return the tupperware, the ghosts seem to disappear instantly. As if they were never there.

“You know, Y/n,” Wanda starts as she closes the door behind you. “We are friends, you don't need an excuse to see me.”

“Okay, you caught me but we never really got a chance to ourselves last week and I thought since,” you are cut off when the boys come running towards you and wrap their arms around you as they crash into your body. “Oh! Hi guys! What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be with your dad this week?” You keep your tone light, you would hate to ever make them feel unwanted. You hug them back just as tight. 

“Dad had a work thing,” Billy answers with a smile. “What are you doing here? Rachel isn't here.” 

You look at Wanda, not sure how to answer. “That’s right, Rachel is not here. But Y/n had my container and I asked them to bring it back,” Wanda answers for you. “Come on boys, I'm sure Y/n has to get back home and you two need to get ready for bed.” 

“Can you stay and read us a bedtime story?” Tommy asks with wide eyes filled with excitement as he steps back.

“Yeah? Can you?” Billy asks as he jumps back, just as excited. 

You hesitate and that causes the two kids to start begging. “Please? You and mom tell the stories really well together!” You look at Wanda as you reminisce about the couple of times the two of you read bedtime stories for the three kids when you and Rachel were staying here. 

“I thought you said bedtime stories were for babies?” Wanda says as she messes with her son's hair. 

“They are but not when you and Y/n tell them,” Tommy defends. Wanda gives you a look that says ‘I tried,’ and it makes you laugh. 

“Okay boys, go finish getting ready for bed and I'll join your mom for story time,” you agree and the kids cheer as they run up the stairs. 

“Thank you for that. You know, you don't have to stay,” Wanda says as she tests the waters and puts her hand on your bicep. You shrug as your arm warms up from her touch. 

“They think we're good together,” you say with slight innuendo. “Besides, it won't be long before they despise my presence. I'm sure their dad will poison them against me as soon as puberty hits. I have to enjoy their praises while I still can.” You smile at her as you maintain eye contact and stand a little closer to her. 

Wanda bites her lower lip as her eyes travel to your lips. It's been a week and a half since the two of you kissed. You had been by every day since but neither of you have had a moment alone long enough to discuss anything. She had so much that she wanted to tell you that she couldn't. Not when the kids are so close. She would hate it if the kids got excited about something that may or may not happen. “I wish their father thought about the fact that we only have a few precious years left with them before they become moody teenagers. But,” Wanda shrugs. “I guess that's my fault for falling for a selfish man before my frontal lobe developed.” Wanda’s eyes meet yours again as she flashes you a sad smile. 

You reach out and hold her shoulder. You open your mouth to say something but you're interrupted by a loud screech of, “We're ready!” from Tommy and Billy. You laugh. 

“I guess that's our cue,” you say as you drop your hand from her shoulder. 

“You go first, I have to put this away,” she holds up the tupperware and you nod then you climb the stairs and warn the boys that you are on your way. Wanda takes a deep breath as her body craves your touch. It was an innocent touch but it made her mind wander to not so innocent thoughts and she needed a second. She serves herself a cold glass of water and chugs half of it. 

“Mom! Mom! Mom!” She hears you chanting with the boys and hearing you call her that almost makes her spit out her water from laughter. 

“Okay! I'm coming!” She shouts as she gets to the bottom of the staircase. The chants don't stop until she walks through the door. You and the boys clap and cheer as she comes in. Wanda stops for a moment and poses. You start whistling as the boys cheer louder. “Alright, settle down. Settle down. What story are we reading tonight?” 

The boys fall asleep halfway through the story. You were so engrossed in the storytelling that Wanda had to stop you in order for you to notice that they had fallen asleep. You shut the book and the two of you carefully snuck out of the room. You waited for her in the hallway as she shut off the lights and closed the door. 

When the door was shut she turned to face you. The two of you stand there, both wanting to embrace each other. Maybe even share another sober kiss that would intoxicate each of you. Wanda wants to thank you for helping her find her strength. You want to thank her for always being there for you and your daughter. You want to tell her the deep feelings you've developed for her over the months. You want to hold her in your arms and never let go. 

“Can I show you something before you go?” Wanda whispers. 

“Uh, yeah, sure,” you answer, feeling a little awkward. You clear your throat and gesture for her to lead the way. Wanda takes your hand and laces her finger through yours as she guides you to her office. You were a little surprised that she led you here but you were more surprised with yourself that part of you anticipated her taking you to any other room. Especially with her kids here. 

Wanda lets go of you and walks around her desk to shuffle through her files in the drawer. When she finds what she's looking for she looks up at you with a grin. “Close the door and come closer. It's a secret,” she says with a playfulness to her voice. You smile and shut the door to her office before joining her side. “So I have a plot of land,” she starts as she opens the folder. “And I want to build my dream house on it. These are some of the ideas that I have so far.” She shows you printed-out mood boards and detailed sketches along with images and measurements of the land. 

“Wow, I think this is great,” you say as you flip through the pages. You look at her with a curious glance. “What inspired this?” 

Wanda shrugs, “I'm tired of living under someone else's guidelines of what my house is supposed to have or not have. I'm a very overqualified architect, I know what I can and cannot do.” Her confidence makes you smile. “Besides, this is Vision-free land. He's never owned it. He's never lived on it. He's never traumatized me or the kids here. It's a land that is free to have an unlimited amount of good memories and none of them have to be tarnished by him.” Her grin widens and her shoulders relax at the thought. 

“That's wonderful,” you tell her softly. “So, why are you sharing this with me?” 

A blush appears on Wanda's cheeks and your heart picks up speed in anticipation for her answer. “I um, I could use your expertise in building it. Not anytime soon. I still have to get the money to fund the project but, there isn't anyone I'd rather have build it for me than you,” she smiles up at you. 

You lick your lips as you consider kissing her. But you think better of it. Billy or Tommy could walk in at any moment and catch the two of you. It's enough to make you stand up straighter instead of hovering close to her. “I'd be honored to build your dream house for you, Wanda.” 

Wanda rises from her chair and pulls you in for a warm embrace. “Thank you,” she says against your chest. 

“Of course,” you respond quietly as you wrap your arms around her. You close your eyes as you embrace the moment. “I should get going. It's pretty late,” you state without letting her go. Wanda hums in agreement as she also makes no motion to break away. 

Eventually, the two of you do break away and she offers to walk you to your car. You feel giddy as you remember the night of the kiss. Wanda’s mind is thinking about the same thing as she walks with you arm in arm. 

“I don't know if this is weird to mention but we did make a bet on it so I feel as though I kind of have to tell you about this,” you ramble nervously as the two of you get close to the car. “Uh, you win the bet. That volunteer texted me the other day.” Wanda's smile drops and her demeanor shifts a little. 

“Oh? And what did she have to say?” Wanda asks as she starts to feel her positive energy waiver. 

“Nothing worth mentioning,” you say in an attempt to let her know that you're not interested in Nebula as you reach your truck. “Anyway, I'm thinking about getting my haircut on Sunday after I pick up Rachel. Should I give you a call?” You lean against the door as you watch Wanda. She gives you a tight smile and you know that whatever you thought might happen isn't going to. 

“Yeah, I um, I think I have a few ideas ready. Just let me know where to be on Sunday,” she doesn't look at you as she speaks and you want to slap yourself for even mentioning another woman. 

“Okay, I'll make the appointment and text you the details,” you fiddle with your keys awkwardly. “I'll see you on Sunday,” you say as you climb into your truck. Disappointed in yourself. This was not at all how this was supposed to go. It was starting to feel like there are forces out there trying to keep the two of you apart. 

On Friday night, you stare at the message from Nebula as you consider responding while you sit at a booth with Darcy. It's becoming a common occurrence, hanging out with Darcy, Steve, and Bucky. Your coworker is typically the one inviting everyone out. You're surprised that he doesn't invite his girlfriend. In fact, you don't think you've seen Natasha since Wanda's New Years Eve party. And Steve hasn’t talked about Peggy in some time either. But you don't think about it too much. 

“I know that face,” Darcy says as she steals a couple of fries from your plate. 

“I don't know what you're talking about,” you put your phone in your pocket. 

“You have many faces, Y/n. That face is one of regret and frustration,” Darcy continues to steal your fries. You shake your head and look around the bar to avoid looking at your friend. “Come on, lay it on me. Is Wanda seeing someone finally? Did your former child-bride reach out to you?” 

“Daisy wasn't that much younger than me,” you defend as you take a sip from the beer bottle. “Besides, you never got to meet her. You don't get to judge.”

Darcy leans in closer with wide eyes, “She dumped you when your kid was in the hospital! What more do I need to know about her?” You shake your head. Then your eyes widen as they land on Steve and Bucky kissing. Your eyebrows knit together from the shock. “What?” Darcy spins around to search for what you could be seeing. Then she sees them. “Oh, yeah. That,” she turns back to you with a shrug. “I've known about that. Now back to you.” Darcy snaps her fingers in your face and waves until you look back to her. “Hello? What's going on with you?”

“What do you mean you knew about them?” You ask instead. “They both have girlfriends! They're cheaters! I didn't know I was friends with cheaters!”

Darcy sighs and rolls her eyes. “Calm down. The way I understand it, Steve and Peggy broke up sometime after that party at Wanda’s place. And Bucky and Natasha have an understanding. I don't know if it's an open relationship situation or a throuple or what. I don't ask them questions because I don't care. What I do care about is you. So, what's wrong?” 

You shake your head before running your fingers through your hair and sigh. “I fucked up,” you go on to explain the bet you made with Wanda about Nebula. “Then we kissed and before I could get a chance to talk to her about the kiss, I mentioned that she won the bet and she completely pulled away. I haven't been able to get a hold of her since. I didn’t mean anything by it. I just, she likes to win. I thought she'd like to know that she won and she gets to choose my next haircut.” You shrug then shake your head and then rub your face. 

Darcy reaches across the table and holds your wrist as a way to provide some sort of comfort. The two of you sit in silence for a moment. Darcy hasn't gotten to know Wanda enough to be able to explain her behavior. But she's known you for some time now and she knows that sometimes all you need is support. No encouraging words. No solutions to your problems. Just someone's presence. 

Steve and Bucky rejoin the two of you. Steve sits next to you and Bucky sits across the table next to Darcy. “What’d we miss?” Steve asks as he throws his arm around your shoulders. You shrug in response. 

“I'm an idiot,” you mutter. 

“Oh come on, I asked what I missed. Not what I already know,” he teases and with her free hand, Darcy throws some fries at him. “Ow, hey!” She snaps her fingers and points to you and you start to feel a little ridiculous. “Oh, I'm sorry Y/n,” he says once he is paying attention. You shake your head and stand up muttering something about leaving. “Hey, no, come on. It was a bad joke. Stay, Y/n,” he tries to call you back to the table. 

“You're so full of yourself, Steve!” Darcy says before she catches up with you. “Hey, lets-” 

“No, it’s fine. I'm fine. It wasn’t about Steve. He's always like that. I’m just…” you shake your head. “I need to go home.” You tell her calmly. “I won't do anything stupid, I promise.”

Darcy sighs then nods, “Yeah, okay. I'll see you soon. Oh! That reminds me, I will be moving to Germany to join a research team for a year. I leave in three months.” 

“Oh my goodness! Way to bury the lead!” You pull her into a quick hug. “Congratulations! That sounds like an amazing opportunity!” You pull away and admire her for a second. “You are possibly the coolest person I know.” 

Darcy closes her eyes, tilts her head, and smiles. “I know I am,” she says happily. She opens her eyes and pats your arm. “Get out of here. And tell Wanda I said hi.” 

You make a face, “Why would I tell Wanda-” 

“Oh please, you think I actually believe that you're going to your apartment? She is your home. And I better be receiving an invitation to the wedding by the time I come home from Germany.” 

You shake your head as you give her a final hug goodbye. You get in your car and consider driving to Wanda’s house. Her boys are with her so you try to not think about it. But as you're driving, you suddenly realize that you're close to her neighborhood. You sigh as you think about what Darcy said. Wanda is your home. You take the turn into her neighborhood and start to think about what you're going to tell her when you see her. 

As you pull up, you notice the time and frown as you see that the house is dark. You put the car in park and stare at her house. It was pretty late. You shouldn't have expected that she would be awake just because it was a Friday night. You don't even let Rachel stay up past eleven at night. But you know that sometimes Wanda likes to enjoy a glass of wine and catch up on her favorite reality show before going to bed. 

So you take your chances and call her. The phone rings a couple of times before you finally hear her voice. “Hey you,” she is speaking softly. You wonder if her boys are near her. Awake or asleep, there's a reason she is so quiet. 

“Hey, did I wake you?” You ask as you start to regret being here. 

“No, no,” Wanda says, her voice still low. “I’m catching up on my show. But um Billy had a nightmare. He’s sleeping next to me and I'm trying to not wake him.” Your eyes travel up to her window as you see the faint glow of the television through the blinds. “Are you okay? Do you need something?” 

You don’t respond right away. You just think about her. “No, I'm okay. I just,” you sigh. “I never responded to that volunteer. I want you to know that. I’m sorry if I-” 

“Y/n I don’t think now is a good time,” she interrupts. 

“I’m parked in the driveway. If you don't want Billy to hear,” you tell her quickly. You watch the shadows of the curtains move and the blinds open after a couple of minutes. Her silhouette stands in the middle of the window. “I think we have a lot to talk about.” 

Wanda is quiet as she stands still. You hope that she accepts your invitation. “Go home, Y/n. It's late and,” she trails off as she closes the blinds. “We don't have anything to talk about.” Your heart breaks at her words. 

“Wanda please,” you beg, “let's talk about this. Maybe not tonight but soon.” 

“Y/n, I,” her words seem to fail her as she goes quiet. You sit in your truck patiently waiting for her to continue. To say something. Anything. After a while you wonder if she hung up so you lift the phone off of your face and are slightly relieved to see that the call is still going. Then you watch the call end. Your eyes travel to the front door as it opens. 

Wanda walks out and you step out of the truck to meet her halfway but she holds her hands up to stop you. You stay close to the truck. “Wanda, can you explain to me what I did wrong? Because I don't feel like I-” 

Wanda waves her hand to cut you off, “Stop, you didn't do anything wrong. It's me. I'm… I wanted our friendship… I want us to…” she closes her eyes and shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I practiced this speech to myself since Wednesday but,” she sighs as she runs her fingers through her hair. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. “When we kissed, I did want us to explore the possibility of more between us. Hell, I deleted all of the dating apps I was on and blocked every person I hooked up with that night. I thought I was ready. But I'm not. And it's not because of you. You are great. You're great to me, you're great to my kids, to my entire family actually.” She opens her eyes and you can see the tears building up. “I'm in a better place than I was when we first met but I’m not ready for anything more than your friendship. At least not right now.” 

You cast your eyes down to the ground for a moment to allow your heart to break. You bite your lips to keep from letting the emotions show on your face. Then, when you feel ready, you swallow your feelings and you nod. “Okay, yeah,” you look at her as you try to hide your sadness. “I can do that. I can be your friend. It’s okay, I understand that you still have a lot of healing or whatever to work through. It's okay, Wanda. I lo-” 

“Don't,” Wanda cuts you off and you nod with your mouth shut. “I know that you care about me. A lot. I care about you too. A lot. But I… I don't expect you to wait for me to be ready. No. Let me rephrase,” she steps closer and holds your hands. “Don't wait for me. Don’t put your life on hold for me.” 

You want to argue and fight for her but if this is what she wants then there isn't much else that you can do. You look her in the eye and ask, “Are you sure this is what you want?” Wanda nods. “Okay. I won't um I won't wait and I won't bring this up again. Not until you do. I understand.” 

“Thank you,” she says softly. 

“Will I still see you on Sunday?” You ask as you think about the bet again. “You still have a prize to collect,” you remind her playfully. 

“Yeah, I'll be there,” she flashes you a small smile that drops as fast as it appears. You drop her hand and shove your hand into your pockets. 

“Darcy wanted me to tell you that she said hi. I was hanging out with her before this,” you tell her. 

“That's nice, how is she doing?” Wanda crosses her arms over her chest to keep her body warm as a cool breeze comes by. 

“She's good, she'll be gone for a year. She got a big opportunity in Germany. But she's got three more months of being stuck here,” you inform her conversationally. Trying to move past the emotionally heightened moment. 

“Wow, that sounds fascinating. I'll have to reach out to her. I liked meeting her,” Wanda says. 

“I'm sure she'd love that,” you nod then you look at your watch. “I'll let you go back inside. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-”

“No, I'm glad you did. I'll see you on Sunday,” Wanda kisses your cheek before she walks away. “Goodnight, drive safe,” she shouts over her shoulder as she continues walking to her front door. You climb back into your car and drive to your apartment. 

You allow yourself to cry and feel the heartbreak. You don't drink alcohol to forget it or make it easier. You don't smoke from the pack of cigarettes that you purchased on the way home. You just lie on your bed and clutch a pillow to your chest. 

On Sunday you pick up Rachel from her mom's house and tell her that you lost a bet to Wanda and that she is going to pick out your new haircut. Rachel giggles with excitement. 

“A mullet? Really?” You look at Wanda like she is crazy. “Are you trying to sabotage my dating life?” 

Wanda laughs with a shrug, “It's not my fault your hair is long enough for it. Besides, I hear it's a very popular style for the They/Thems of the world.” You shake your head as she plays with your hair. The hairdresser laughs at the request as well before promising that the style is coming back. You tell him to just get it over with. 

In the end, you don't completely hate it but you still don't feel like it's your style. However, Wanda's boys love it. “Mom, I want my hair like Y/n's! Mom, can we get our haircut too?” 

“Oh, I'm sure that the schedule is busy and we didn't make an appointment for you two,” Wanda tried to tell them.

“Oh we have a couple hours free, I don't mind giving them a cut. The kids want to match their parent,” Clint says. 

“Oh I'm not,” you stutter. 

“We’re just friends,” Wanda corrects. 

Clint nods as he eyes the two of you with a knowing smirk. “So am I cutting the kids' hair or not?” he asks a little loud, drawing the attention of the boys. The twins begin to beg over and over until Wanda caves. They cheer as they each hop into a chair. Clint disappears into the back to collect his wife to cut Billy's hair while he works on Tommy. 

You sit next to your daughter and Wanda sits on the other side of her. “What about you? Do you want to get a haircut?” Wanda asks. 

Rachel shakes her head with a scrunched-up face. “No, I'm okay.” 

“Her hair doesn't grow back fast. It took a while for it to get this long,” you explain. “That's her mom's genetics,” you say lightly as you mess with Rachel's hair. She swats her hand away and goes back to playing games on your phone. 

When the boys are done with their haircuts the group of you decide to grab some ice cream together and enjoy the treats at a nearby park. 

Wanda is messing with your hair as you watch the kids play on the playground. “Why are you suddenly so obsessed with my hair?” You ask with a laugh.

“I don't know, I've never seen a mullet in person. It looks so… touchable. I don't know. I can't explain it,” Wanda replies as she continues to move her fingers through your hair. “Business in the front,” she touches the front of your hair and then moves her hand down to the back, “party in the back!”

You shake your head slightly, “You're insufferable, you know that right?”

“I know,” she says. As much as you are giving off the impression that you don't want her to touch your hair, you're happy that she is. 

“I'm starting to rethink this whole friendship thing,” you grouch with a playfulness to your tone. 

“Whatever, Uncle Jesse,” she pulls her hand out of your hair and holds her phone up. “Say cheese!” You roll your eyes as she takes candid pictures of you. Then she calls her boys over to pose with you. The three of you show off your new haircuts. 

After going to a fast food restaurant for dinner, you and Wanda decide it's best to split from each other so that the kids can get ready for school on Monday. Everyone hugs each other goodbye. 

“Baba?” Rachel asks for your attention as you're driving home. You hum to let her know that she has your attention. “When you do fall in love again. I hope it's with someone like Wanda.”  You don't say anything as you keep your eyes on the road.

Chapter 18

Taglist: @princessprudy @sayah13 @agaymilflover @awkwardmandalorian @bentleywolf29 @thatshyboy1998 @artisannat @thisischaismagic @wqndanat @madamevirgo @likefirenrain @tearsofglitter @feltlikethat @the-writer-arcane @natashasilverfox @karsonromanoff @aloneodi @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @jovialsublimecomputer @natasha-maximoff @iliketozoneout @doudouneverte @druggedduck @notbornbutforged @when-wolves-howl @lifespectator @justyourwritter69 @wandaromamoff69 @awesomelygayasf @nekoannie-chan @diaryoflife @wuwu96 @wandanats-goodgirl @sincerely-indi @blueredg52 @sisiofthemultifandom @fuzzyuniversityeclipsefriend @arcturusseer @scarlettwidow34 @chasethemoon @raven-ss @canyonyodeler @sokovianbaby @alexawynters @bittysworld @hopeless-romantic17177 @spongebobtentacles @the-ox-fan20

[ofmermaidstories]

some bnha thoughts, on this sunny monday morning (or lunchtime, by the time i finish typing sdlkfjdlsk):

💥 got walloped with a return of the post-362 grief, with the latest episode of the anime lmao. unfortunately this means i am currently in my feelies, so thank u for bearing with me as i cycle through them in the form of shitposting. 🥹

💥 speaking of the anime, i’m sad they didn’t adapt one of my favourite panels from 360, where bakugou (or shiggy? it’s never really stated, but tbh i’ve always kinda assumed it’s shiggy imagining it LOL, maybe they both are? a joint moment of horror/delight where everyone knows exactly what’s about to happen 🥹) are imagining bakugou being torn apart by shiggy’s gross giant maggot fingers sdlkjlsdjflksdjf. i mean, i get why bones didn’t adapt it (bc they’re cheapskates and and also bc it is a show for children LMFAOOOO) but it’s a really cool example of how hard hori’s art can go, and also what im chalking up as his secret wish to write a horror story lmaoooo.

🪱🧵 i am biting my nails the closer we get to the end of the manga. chapter 428 was fun—bakugou and todoroki hiding behind iida as iida gently berates their newfound fangirls was so cute, lmao. also the revelation that edgeshot is slowly… regenerating? is….. interesting. i’m disappointed that hori didn’t kill him for a couple of reasons: the first one is my most selfish, and it’s bc i planned on edgeshot being dead for my halloween fic lmfao, now i gotta rework that whole angle. 💀😪 but the second reason is more pressing and that’s bc hori is a COWARD who NEVER kills off ANYONE that has INTERESTING CONSEQUENCES. and also bc he only likes killing off girls 💀 (we’ll circle back to this point). idk, i mean, for as much as i act like the grim reaper and whinge about mha not being depressing enough (lmao), the story that hori’s been writing has always been like, pretty easy to understand. hope connection blah blah blah (i say that lovingly).

HOWEVER,

💚🍵🩸 there are a few deaths i’ve always kinda expected, in the series, with the top of that list being shiggy and dabi. i was like, hopeful toga wouldn’t die, mostly bc i wanted hori to prove me wrong with his GIRL MURDERER AGENDA, but. 💀 cue the clown music, ig. and hey, maybe toga isn’t dead—maybe she’s just in a coma or in prison and ochako’s being emo bc she wants the world to see toga as a teenage girl and not a blood-sucking murdering psycho, and i HOPE that’s the case!!! i do!!!! like, are you seriously going to tell me dabi is somehow still alive (for now, anyways. do NOT come for me, that man got deep fried in the deepest oil vats of McHell!!!!) but toga gets the chop? 😒 like i actually fully expect tenko to come stumbling back (literally!!!) so you cannot tell me you save the dustpile AND the deepfriend mctodo just to axe the blood sucker!!!!! let them all live if ur gonna be a coward about it, hori!!!!! this is what i mean about interesting consequences. 😔 the only consequence we’re getting so far is deku and ochako both kinda 🫤🥺😦ing their way into a confession LOL. i’m being mean—i think the next chapter will be them both confronting their guilt over like, not being able to “save” their villains, and that if we do get a confession of feelies it’ll be something like ochako saying, “i like you deku, and/but i want to be a great hero too, to save people like toga in the future”. 🥹 maybe??? guess we’ll see. 🥺

🌇💀 my pet theory for the vaguely-tenko shaped rando that’s stumbling through the rumble is that it is indeed tenko, and that deku will somehow find him to help him and that’s how deku will get his powers back. and if he doesn’t and hori ends the series with deku being quirkless i will actually, and i mean this very sincerely, stop writing fanfic LMFAOOOO. ok im maybe like, half joking. 😒 but i have never been a fan of the quirkless deku ending and now im getting scared that’s what we’re gonna get!!!!! 😦 in one of his latest interviews, hori mentions something about wanting to strip away labels from people (characters) to see the human underneath them? soooo i guess we’ll just have to trust in him and these next two (TWO) chapters. 🥹

for all my whinging i do like bnha lmao. i whinge because i like it, and tbh i probably wouldn’t change a thing of it. 🥺 all the frustrating gaps—like those perceived consequences i keep getting worked up over the lack of—are what makes it fun to write and read fic for. 🥹 and it’s been fun watching the characters change!!! i was in a bookstore, yesterday, picking up a copy of volume 38 and the girl at the counter and i started talking about the series—the pros and cons of binging it vs keeping up weekly, the change in bakugou’s character and how reading over fics with him and his older characterisation can be kinda hard, now. how scary it was that it’s coming to an end!!! she and i have talked before—when i was buying volume 36 lmao—about whether bakugou could be canonically read as queer vs asexual, and like, idk any other series that has such a mainstream reach that you could have these outside conversations with other people in your day to day, outside of a twitter or tumblr sphere! that’s the power of my hero. and im glad to be here for the ride. and no matter how it ends, it’ll be fun, and worth it. 🥹

[casualhedonists]

okay holy SHIT you guys are wild thank you so much for 1k?? feels like i’ve not been around here long at all (think i made the blog in november?) and i’m so so honored and grateful you’re enjoying what i’ve written so far <3

as my way of saying thank you here are some wips i hope to expand and post in the (hopefully near) future!!

⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒ ⭒

all fics are 18+.

⭒ i want roses, set on fire ⭒

a longer oneshot where the reader is a district rebel with plans to infiltrate the Capitol and assassinate President Snow, except when she gets there she’s surprised to learn he’s been expecting her, and has some plans of his own

⭒ young gods and monsters ⭒

sex pollen oneshot!! post tbosas and pre-snow presidency, is a student at the Academy and Dr Gaul assigns Snow as a TA in one of her classes, they get trapped together in a lab, smut ensues

⭒ i know your wife (and she wouldn’t mind) ⭒

multi-chaptered fic, dub con with gross power dynamics

academy!reader secures a highly sought-after position interning for President Snow’s wife, but when he takes an interest in the young, seemingly innocent protégé, and finds out about a certain secret of hers, he uses it as leverage to either pursue an affair with her, or ruin her life

(i’m v excited for this one)

⭒ finally: an update on attention! ⭒

i also want to confirm there will be two more chapters before the series comes to an end (chapters five and six) and i’m vvv excited to show you what’s to come!

the next update should be out at some point next week! (i’m back home to my laptop tomorrow) 🤍

once again thank you lovely people, i’m so happy you’re here, i haven’t felt this at home in a fandom in quite a few years 🤍🤍

[kyouka-supremacy]

Yeah, Teruko was the one that made me realize the sexisim that existed in BSD when I first binged it. Or, more accurate, what TYPE we're dealing with. The female characters can exist and have their own moments, but they can never outshine the male characters and Asagiri can also allow himself to forget them if he needs to. When I read Stormbringer, one of the things that stood out to me is the fact that no female character has any prominent role until like, 200+ pages in, and what role Kouyou got was so minimal she might as well not have shown up at all. Yosano has a huge important backstory that doesn't become relevant until SEASON 4 while most of her male companions have had theirs explored way before her. It's disappointing, but I genuinely find Teruko intolerable and find her to be the worst written character in the entire series. It's not her fault, but her behaviour around Fukuchi and her ability was just horrid to me. Her ending here just enhances all the issues that already existed in her character for me. She's the only female character in this series I can't stand and that SUCKS because I want to love them all, but Asagiri is making that mighty difficult when he pulls stuff like this :/

(´；ω；｀)

The almost complete lack of female characters is personally my greatest disincentive to reading Stormbringer (together with the lack of ss/kk. Discredit where it's due).

Teruko's role this whole doa arc has been.. Saddening? I feel all the hd have a lot of untapped potential; but whereas with Fukuchi and Tachihara and even Jouno it's like, you know what's their deal, there's so little we know about Teruko and Tetchou's motivations and backstory. And even when both had their occasional times to shine - I like Teruko's scenes in the Sky Casino arc! A lot! I think they make for a very cool character! -, there's the whole deal with Teruko in the airport arc which is just :/// Like, she's just there to move the plot forward. She was very pretty in chapter 105 and made me feel like she had some further insight in the whole picture, like she had taken a stand and had a motive, but in the end it was never elaborated on, and I'm very sorry for that. Way worse, she was exclusively delegated to the role of numbly moving the plot forward, which is just wholly unfortunate. Why did she let Atsushi go just like that, like, really?? Oftentimes women's role in this franchise is truly meaningless. I don't really care for what side she was going to take in the end, I just wish she was just handled more sensibility, more respectfully. But alas. Hoping she'll get some spotlight in the future, because I really like her.

I like Teruko! Like, I genuinely get where you're coming from, and your reasons for not liking her are very valid. To me it's more about straight-up ignoring some stuff I don't like (REALLY can't vibe with the Fukuchi worshipping, I find it quite gross to be honest) and emphasizing the aspects I do like. I like how she's unapologetically mean - honestly, not many female characters get to do that. She gets to be a villain -, but I also like how it's compensated with a very strong moral code and genuine intent to protect citizens. I love lots of her scenes in the Sky Casino arc: her interactions with Tachihara are funny and vaguely wholesome, her determination and resourcefulness to win over Sigma is so cool, and her reluctance to hurt citizens, and the scene where she stopped an aircraft with her bare hands!!!! Honestly, banger after banger after banger, looking back at it that's probably why I held such high expectations for her character. Despite personally wholly disagreeing with bsd's morale, even Teruko's enouncement of her Hobbesian principles is enjoyable for me, because it's quite rare to see a woman preach such realist, cynical worldviews; if anything, it's refreshing. I think her ability is super cool and original, I love it tons!! I really like her character design, too. I like how she's of the highest grade compared to all other hd members minus Fukuchi and I like how she can be childish and keep them in line at the same time. I like how more mature and savvy she looked in her latest airport arc appearances, how she looked tired of war on par with Fukuchi. I wish she was given more screentime and importance and agency, and I wish the mess of the last chapter didn't happen, but I like her personality.

On her ability, I think it's pretty cool, and neutrally problematic by its own; but I do agree that between Teruko having child appearances and being obsessed with a grown-up man, the whole Mori deal, Aya proposing to Kunikida in chapter 40, the chapter 107.5 page that left everyone perplexed and was only later on clarified by the anime, (and, regretfully, even how the Kyouka / Atsushi dynamics are framed in some of the earlier chapters), it creates a very distasteful pattern.

I really like Yosano's backstory (really. I've said it a lot of times before, but I think chapters 65-66 are the best written chapters in the whole manga.), but it's not like just because of two small chapters that center around a woman after 15 volumes of male spotlight bsd suddenly stops being sexist lol. And that's something I've already said before, but: Yosano's chapters are beautiful! But they don't really help empower female characters in this franchise. Yosano completely lacks agency in the story, which is FINE for the story on its own, yet in the context it simply does nothing but reinforce the fact that women can't be masters of their fate.

I also strongly agree with the fact that female characters are accurately written as to never outshine their male counterparts. As someone else has pointed out before, both Kyouka and Higuchi have respectively saved Atsushi and Akutagawa's lives (in Kyouka's case, multiple times), so why is it that Atsushi and Akutagawa don't serve them the same respect and admiration that they hold for them? The double standard is really blatant once you start seeing it.

I've written more on bsd's sexism here, if you'd like to check it out. Even though it's very important to read things critically and acknowledge franchises' faults, I still can't help but feel bad for spreading negativity (╥﹏╥) Here's to hoping the bsd writing of female characters will improve in the future!!

[pessimisticpigeonsworld]

In this post, I talked a bit about how the removal of magic in GOT destroyed the character of Euron Greyjoy. Now I'm going to talk about how it negatively impacted Daenerys' character.

Magic is fundamental to Dany's storyline, which is why her story is one of the only ones that still has magic in it on the show. However, that magic is drastically reduced, there's now simply hatching the dragons, the calling she feels to do so, and like two visions in the House of the Undying. Meaning, aside from dragon riding, Dany's magic is only in the first two seasons.

I want to talk first about how they reduced her dreams. In AGOT, we have almost a dream per chapter for Dany, each of them pointing to her future as the Mother of Dragons, a dragon rider, and her later story points. In ACOK, her visions in the House of the Undying point to not only her future, but those of other characters (i.e. the Red Wedding, Tyrion, Jon, the Others, etc). ASOS sees the first appearance of Quaithe in Dany's dreams, and in ADWD, Dany dreams in the Dothraki Sea and sees Quaithe a few more times. That's a pretty big difference from the show's portrayal.

The removal of these dreams serve to make Dany seem much more similar to the rest of her family than she really is. It's a way for them to make her seem less remarkable and force their "parallels" with Aerys. In the books, while other Targaryens have dragon dreams, none of them are quite to the same level as Dany, with the exception of maybe Daenys (we don't actually know). She's meant to be set apart, just like the other main five. She, Jon, Bran, Arya, and even Tyrion are meant to have stronger connections to magic than any other main characters.

Jumping back to Quaithe, removing her really shows how little they cared about George's plans for Dany's character. Her connection to the resurgence of magic is touched on in the show, but not to the same extent as it is in the books. Quaithe is constantly telling Dany to go to Assai, one of the magical centers of the world. Obviously there is something important in Asshai that has to do with magic and the dragons. But apparently, D&D decided to fuck around and drop that whole idea, leaving Dany with an easy and pretty boring storyline after Meereen.

Finally, the show removed most of the prophecies. I did cover this partially in the dreams section, but there's more to be said about erasing the prophecies. Mainly the Prince that was Promised/Azor Ahai prophecy. Obviously, in the show, it was decided that the prophecy should be completely thrown aside and Arya should kill the Night King and the War for the Dawn be over in a few hours. This is a gross mishandling of the themes, which makes sense given who the head writers were. Prophecies are a key part of ASOIAF, and the Prince that was Promised/Azor Ahai is definitely the most important. Targaryens throughout history made unwise decisions in the name of the prophecy: Viserys II forced Aegon IV and Naerys to marry, Jaegaerys II forced Aerys and Rhaella to marry, (according to HoTD) Viserys I killed Aemma for a son, and Aegon conquered Westeros. Clearly this is important, writing it out in the name of "subverting expectations" is the dumbest fucking idea ever, right after mad queen Dany.

D&D also wrote out many magical objects that clearly are meant to have importance to the story. The glass candles and the dragon binder are magical objects that will change the course of Dany's life as she knows it. Whether the dragon binder Victarion has will work or not is irrelevant, its very existence could drive Dany off course from Westeros to Asshai. Maester Marwyn is bringing a glass candles to Dany and Quaithe warned her that they are burning again. The magic the glass candles have would have a massive impact on how Dany will proceed. After all, they could allow her to communicate with people in Westeros or Asshai or enhance her dragon dreams. They will also put her in direct conflict with the Citadel, as the Maesters use the glass candles as examples for magic's nonexistence.

Magic is integral to the ASOIAF universe. Removing it makes the story so much more boring and damages or destroys character arcs. Daenerys suffered so much in the adaptation, and one of the greatest blows was the removal of magic in her story. It shows how lazy D&D were, since they couldn't be bothered to figure out the magic system of the world they are adapting. It removes the interesting ideas George came up with, making it into someone's historical fiction smut fic when mixed with the other ideas D&D put in.

[theyanderespecialist]

Crimson's Human (Headcanons) Yandere Crimson X Female Human Reader (Helluva Boss)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am back with a new chapter! This one is where you are a female human and that Crimson is yandere for you. So good luck! I hope that you all enjoy this chapter!]

(Disclaimer: Crimson is not yandere in canon, this is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all. Simping for fictional characters and fictional yanderes is fine, just do not be illegal or gross about it. Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life. Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon.)

(Once Again, Please Enjoy this!)

-Yandere Headcanons With Crimson X Female Human Reader-

.It does not matter how Crimson met you, not at all.

.Once he came across you he knew he had to have you.

.His love for you is pure obsession at times.

.Since you are human you are easier to break, so he tries to hold back a bit with you.

.He does not want to break you more than he can fix.

.Though he is most like going to keep you locked up in his home.

.For various reasons.

.One humans do not belong in hell, he is doing his best to keep you safe and keep you from being taken from him.

.The other reason he does not want you to leave him or look at anyone else.

.He is very easily jealous.

.He is also not afraid of punishing you if he has to.

.Super possessive, you belong to him, no one else should even look at you.

.He would only trust a certain few around you.

.He is not completely cruel. He does want to make you enjoy your time here.

.So he will spoil you a bit.

.But most likely when he is angry at you for wanting to leave him he will say something like. "After all I have done for you? You think you can just walk away from me!?!"

.He will make you love him, no matter what, even if he has to break you.

.He is very much a controlling yandere.

.So he will control who you see, who you talk to, and sometimes what you do.

.Has no chill when it comes to dealing with his rivals, he will be the type to take trophies of their bodies after killing them.

.That way he can have a wall of all the rivals he has gotten rid of to keep you by his side.

.Will also have a wall of art of you naked in pictures with him. But that is in the bedroom.

.Is a passionate yandere, who adores and worships you, but expects you to worship him in return.

.You are a brad, which means to him your job is to be home, have kids, and warm his bed.

.You better do as he says and everything will be okay.

.He will not kill you but he will teach you a lesson in obedience if you break his rules.

.He confesses as soon as you get home, more or less telling you that you are now his and belong to him.

.You really do not get a choice in the matter.

.You are his and that is that the quicker you learn that lesson the better off you will be.

.Anyone tries to hurt you or take you from him?

.They are as good as dead.

.You are his prize, a human, his future wife, and his trophy.

.No one better think about taking you from him, and you better not think about leaving him.

.He will put them and you in your places. That way everyone knows that you are his.

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter is done! I hope that you all enjoyed this, and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!]

[eternityservedcold]

an extremely thorough list of content warnings for jojos bizarre adventure

because the old one was made by a deleted blog so it isnt easily accessible any more (and i dont think it was good enough to begin with)

btw if you say anything to the effect of "why do people like jojo when it has x" or "you guys really excuse y?" on this post im just gonna block you. people who get angry about me saying to skip parts/episodes will also get blocked.

feel free to reply/send an ask with anything i missed, preferably with a chapter or episode number. parts 7 and 8 wont be on here in full until i finish reading them but feel free to send me cws for them and ill add them. also the warnings are just in the order they appear, and more specifically when they appear in the anime, so as to not have weird "x is more important than y" nonsense

general warnings

these are things that…. basically if youre triggered by these i think you should just sit this out tbh. its an amazing series but its not worth repeatedly triggering yourself. this ones just ordered alphabetically bc its throughout (read: in at least 3 parts)

blood, violence, body horror, gore, and death -amputation -animal abuse and death (especially of dogs) -decapitation -eye, nail, and mouth horror -impalement -parental and sibling death -police brutality -suicide and self harm

child abuse -child abandonment -corporal punishment -leering shots of minors bodies -pedophilia (still gets a warning every time) -physical abuse

christian themes and symbolism

drug use -alcohol -tobacco -underage drug use -unspecified white powder

fire and explosions

gambling

misogyny, both in-universe and on the part of the author

racism (gets specific warnings every time)

sexual misconduct -catcalling -rape (still gets a warning every time) -sexual assault -sexual harassment

unsanitary -eating/drinking gross things —being forced to eat/drink gross things -pee -poop -snot -vomit

vehicle accidents -car accidents -plane crashes

part 1: phantom blood

(manga only) ritual sacrifice

restricted eating

non-consensual kissing

(manga only) a dog is shown on fire

poisoning

chinese ethnic stereotypes

a baby gets eaten

part 2: battle tendency

okay im gonna rip the bandaid off now. there are nazis in this one, and its significantly worse than youd expect just reading that. im gonna quote the old list here: "there are so many nazis in this part and they’re not condemned like at all tbh". i would almost say its glorified, one of the main allies is a nazi and another main ally directly praises a different nazi. in the manga, hitler and swastikas are explicitly shown as well as nazis being called by name, but in the anime, they are removed and simply called german soldiers.

almost nothing from this part comes back in the future and what does come back is explained as it comes up or is understandable from context. so please. if you need to skip this part, just do it. i even understand if you skip the whole series because of this.

its possible some may find the mesoamerican aesthetic of the villains in this part to be insensitive or offensive. im mexican and i personally dont, but i could see why someone would

racism toward: -black people -mexican people —slavery and degradation of mexican women is explicitly shown -japanese people

hostage situation

kidnapping

human experimentation

ritual sacrifice

"man in a dress" gag and subsequent transmisogyny

unintentional incest. there are only two scenes of this, which are: -a character spying on someone (later revealed to be their mother) in the bath -going through said mothers belongings and talking about her panties

animal cannibalism

part 3: stardust crusaders

since fights in this part are much more self-contained than the other parts, its possible to skip some of these if youre triggered by them. those will be marked with chapter and episode numbers

a woman gets spontaneously undressed in the middle of a fight (only her bra shows but it happens against her will)

jotaro, a 17 year old, kisses an adult woman to save her from possession. i wouldnt really say this is pedophilia and it lasts for 1 panel/less than 10 seconds but i found it uncomfortable

while incapacitated from sickness, holly will randomly be shown naked with weird leering camera angles. this happens many more times in the anime than the manga

pedophilia (depicted as a bad thing and the victim is saved before anything happens) (skip chapters 17-19/episode 7)

native american stereotypes (skip chapters 20-22/episode 8)

"person gets replaced" trope (skip chapters 23-6/episode 9; chapters 76-79/episode 27)

infection

suffocation

drowning

"child acting like a pervert" trope (skip chapters 92-96/episodes 32-33) -in the same episodes, the child spends the entire fight naked which might be uncomfortable for some

stardust crusaders ova

this gets its own subsection due to being so different that i was having to say "this doesnt apply to the ova" for a lot of the warnings. unlike the main sdc section, since this ova is extremely pared down, there wont be skippable warnings. also note that this is in "manga order", so its 2000 ova then 1993 ova

the english voice actor for avdol (a black/egyptian character) is a white guy doing a vaguely "ethnic" accent

the non-consensual kissing thing above, here its with a girl jotaros age though

infection

suffocation

ritual sacrifice (used as the intro animation for the 1993 portion)

drowning

part 4: diamond is unbreakable

rape, pedophilia, and kidnapping mentions

physical abuse

electrocution

blackmail

yandere trope -emotional abuse -isolation -stalking -kidnapping

restricted eating

skin picking

(anime only) jumpscare

invasion of privacy (skip this part if this bothers you because one of the main allies power is just, doing this, and its constant)

"child acting like a pervert" trope

bodysnatching/"person gets replaced" trope

theres an uncomfortable scene where a child gets attacked in the bath (non-sexually). both the child and the attacker are naked for the duration of the scene

part 5: vento aureo/golden wind

gang violence/the mafia (main crux of the plot)

bullying

(anime only) racism toward japanese people

reckless driving

torture

rape (not shown just heavily implied)

terminal illness/infection/disease

(anime only) pedophilia

forced childbirth (its like, magical childbirth and the mother doesnt register it)

possibly offensive depiction of systems (systems, feel free to correct me on this)

medical malpractice

a guy gets swapped into a girls body and gropes it

part 6: stone ocean

(anime only) heavy use of chromatic aberration, which may be eye straining for some

this part is really horny, comparatively speaking. this isnt really a bad thing but depending on your level of comfort with that you may want to skip

(manga only) misgendering a trans man

hallucinations

memory loss

abuse of religious authority

(manga only, only in some translations) homophobic slur

grooming

gang violence

"disposable sex worker" trope

creepy stalker-ish behavior (the person who does it becomes a main ally & never stops or eases up)

cult

drowning

electrocution

unintentional incest

the kkk (in the anime its a generic racist mob) -lynching

part 7: steel ball run

possibly offensive depiction of native americans (feel free to correct me if youre native)

a 14 year old girl: -is a child bride and im pretty sure this isnt condemned at all -gets hit on by adults -experiences a rape attempt? -gets pregnant?

the entire plot is about curing a disability

medical malpractice

capital punishment

(only in some translations) r slur variant

homophobic slur

attempted pedophilia/rape?

"bisexual sex pest" trope (grown woman making advances toward a minor/trying to rape her)?

part 8: jojolion

ableism?

rape?

part 9: the jojolands

"unsettling gender reveal" trope

pedophilia

[troperrific]

/ekuoto chapters 67 + 68 spoilers/

The asshole is back! Finally! I love how needlessly dramatic the Demon Lords are… of course Mammon would choose something this ridiculous for his big entrance! Of course!!

To no one’s surprise, Mammon and Tachibana stole the spotlight these past two chapters.

I can’t help but wonder if there’s going to be a future conflict between those two. Tachibana is still incredibly loyal to him, but I do wonder if the rise to power she experienced during those 9 months she gathered “greed” for the sake of bringing him back will eventually get to her. It could be guilt, it could be her missing being the most powerful person in the room, but surely there is bound to be some discomfort (?) regarding her returning to the status quo from before, right?

Not to mention, her way of doing things was mentioned twice in the text as being “adult-like”, contrasting with Mammon being called a “manchild” by Imuri. Tachibana’s tactics could be seen as more underhanded when compared to Mammon’s more straightforward way of fighting. This difference in how they think or act might prove more serious in the future.

Finally, Tachibana was looking more… serious, or rather, less enthusiastic in this chapter than I expected, considering Mammon is so close to resurfacing. Especially compared to the previous chapters, where she was all smiles at the simple thought of gaining power so she could see Mammon again.

I wonder if Tachibana feels a little frustrated that Mammon is prioritizing his fight with a teenager again. I wonder if, in her mind, she feels she worked so hard to make their reunion possible and is still playing second fiddle to Mammon’s need to challenge himself and get attention from God-Daddy Dearest.

According to the information we got from the extras, we can gather that Tachibana was probably a very capable student in her younger years, but due to uncertain circumstances got labeled as the “stain” on her family’s name, was reduced to eye-candy by her employers/co-workers and considered herself to be “unloved” by her country. There’s a lot that can be speculated about her relationship with her family, but one of the recurring themes of ekuoto is that people will lash out when they feel unloved. So maybe, who knows, Tachibana also worked very hard to meet her family’s expectations and be a good daughter, only to feel that her devotion and love weren’t reciprocated. Thus, “I don’t have to love a country that doesn’t love me”.

Still, I do recognize that this analysis doesn’t have much basis, so take this as me merely wondering out loud lol.

(But, you know. At this point, the Demon Lords shooting themselves on the foot and being dumped is what I always expect, so.)

Also, this is kinda unrelated, but Mammon referring Tachibana as his “beloved subordinate” was very cute to me!! He has a soft spot for her, I know it!

Other than that, there just a few other things that caught my eye or amused me:

The beginning of chapter 68 explicitly states that there was a 3-month time skip between this and the last chapter. Before that, when they first got their former base, it was stated that 6 months had passed since Mammon’s defeat, making it a total of 9 months he took to recover.

You know, the usual gestation period for humans.

This isn’t the first time the Demon Lords get cheeky with symbolism and their “rebirths”. We had Asmodeus in the first chapter, who forced her succubus subordinate to “give birth” to her (and pointedly made the wound she made from said subordinate’s torso closely resemble a vagina to match her statement. also because Asmodeus is gross), and Beelzebub in chapter 25, where the mashed bodies of most of Leah’s village he used to regain full power were made to vaguely resemble an uterus (which was also surrounded by those damn vagina dentata mouths. because Beelzebub is also gross). Hopefully Mammon will stop at the 9 months thing and won’t do anything worse!! Please!

(No such promises for Belphegor though.)

This painting in Mr. Priest’s room is interesting:

An olive branch. It’s usually a symbol of peace, but considering the placement, it comes off as ironic to me.

Being cooped up in his room is currently the only form of quiet and peace that Mr. Priest has, as the outside world is getting more and more chaotic and “ugly”. Mammon demanding to fight him again might just push Mr. Priest to give into Belphegor’s temptation of an eternal sleepover, which itself is a rather artificial form of peace, as it doesn’t come from people settling their differences, but rather forcefully isolating everyone into their own little cocoons.

Basically, the painting comes off to me as both the temptation Bel’s sloth represents and how pretty he dresses it up to Mr. Priest, while the messy state of the room and the still present eye-bags in his face show us the sordid reality of depression.

Meanwhile, the witches’ suffer the consequences of Vir’s arrogance:

No one cares, but I really do like how Charlotte is just observing and staying in the background while the others are reassuring Vir.

If Vir was previously judging Tachibana’s methods as something he does not agree with (and ONLY Tachibana’s methods), then I do wonder if Charlotte’s not starting to silently question Vir’s leadership.

In Part 4 she was shocked at his initial retreat when Mikhail arrived and caused a commotion, she looked weirdly at him when he told her of his plan to capture Aria (who neither of them knew to be Asmodeus in disguise), she probably doubts his statement that Beelzebub entrusted his little finger to him, she was the only one to state that he still is a “newbie”, and now, this.

I don’t think the witches will remain this united for too long.

Now, for two things I found funny:

Daniel simultaneously being his usual stoic robotic self and a little shit was way funnier than it should’ve been.

It also reminded me of Dante in chapter 1, “Uh-huh”, “yeah”, “okay” lol

The little details of the close-ups to Daniel’s face (and the outlines getting “sketchier” as the guy with the megaphone shouts) and Leah and Mr. Priest reacting to the accusations they were involved in (Leah asked the passengers she rescued to keep quiet about the use of supernatural powers, Mr. Priest quite literally made “Aria” disappear) just added to the scene. Too funny.

On another note, considering this was the only guy to be drawn with a more detailed face and to keep a cool head during the protest, I wonder if he’s supposed to be the journalist from the extras or at least the friend he mentioned in one of the notes.

I hope you all know I’ll always be amused that Arima-sensei and Fukayama-sensei chose to draw Mammon to make a reference to The Thinker.

Mammon as The Thinker as the opening for a chapter that partially criticizes mob thinking. Amazing. The Demon Lords canonically liking Rodin’s work is weirdly funny and cute. Good taste.

Also, I’m still not over this:

Amazing. Show-stopping. The amount of drip is immeasurable. (lol)

I think it goes without saying that there a good chance that these disguises were Mikhail’s idea. I also think he provided the majority of the clothes.

A few things I’d like to note:

Everyone and their mother already noticed this, but Imuri and Mr. Priest are wearing matching hats (which, going by the “M” with the ribbon, means it’s from Mikhail’s merch/brand) and jackets;

Upon closer inspection, Daniel’s clothes seem a bit tight on him in this scene;

Leah is the one Mikhail (?) worked the most on (?) it seems. Not only is her outfit the most detailed of the group, she also had her hair done (her bangs were brushed to the side to help her hide her eyepatch and some of the strands are curled tighter around her cheek), she’s wearing makeup and earrings;

If Mammon’s inviting Mr. Priest to the same place (which apparently requires formal wear if Imuri’s dress during that fight is anything to go by) and they can’t go in uniform because of the protests, does that mean we’ll get a Part 2 of Mikhail giving the gang drip? Please, Arima-sensei and Fukayama-sensei?? It will be funny!!