nunafilms

[thezodiacco]

.

[charliemwrites]

хозяин

Nobody. You wish it weren’t so apt. But he’s not a person, not anything of Earth.

Content: Dub-Con, Biting, Scratching, Exhibitionism, Possessive Behavior, Toxic Behavior

You must have pissed something off in a past life. Or they’re planning on giving you something really good in the next one. Because this… this is too much. He’s too much.

We are exactly right for you, khozyain.

It’s not just the taste of leather and oil on the back of your tongue each morning. Or the crimson smears on your sheets before bed. You could live with the shit sleep, the centuries of foreign memories, and the occasional hankering for raw meat that thins your appetite to nothing.

“You’re KorTac’s best operative?”

It’s a question you’ve heard a dozen times before – and will likely hear a dozen times more. The criticism is valid. You’re not an imposing figure; nothing impressive about you. Look more like a child in a Halloween costume than anything resembling a soldier. The question never bothers you because the unofficial title is as ill-fitting as the gun strapped to your thigh.

It’s not you they need to worry about bothering.

“We are. Problem, soldat?”

“There’s no problem, Nikto,” you answer in Sebastian Krueger’s place.

No, Krueger is too busy wondering where the big, dark figure behind your shoulder just came from. He could have sworn you stepped out of the transport alone. In broad daylight, no less. (That doesn’t mean there aren’t shadows.)

Nikto grunts, nearly tripping you with how closely he walks, toes of his boots nipping at the heels of yours. A stride twice the length of your own but doggedly following, not leading.

“Thought there was only one ‘a ya,” Declan O’Conor muses.

“Paperwork issue,” you lie, smiling.

Nikto grunts, pressing into your back as you stop in front of your temporary captain. You have to brace against his oppressive weight, feel yourself flush a bit when you don’t quite manage.

“Who’re you, then?” Declan asks, eyes on your shadow.

“Nikto,” comes the gruff reply.

Nobody.

You wish it weren’t so apt.

But he’s not a person, not anything of Earth. You don’t know if he ever was; he never gives you a straight answer when you pluck up the courage (or frustration) to ask. Last time, he told you that if he ever wanted to feel human, he’d just be inside you. (You’d flushed, didn’t know if he meant in your mind, where he often takes up unwanted residence, or… elsewhere. Couldn’t make yourself ask him to clarify, afraid of the answer. Jumped whenever he touched you for a week.)

You don’t know the exact bounds of this pact either. He listens to you only sometimes. When it suits him – or when it least suits you. And you’re not immune to his cruelty either, as the bruises and bitemarks and scratches can attest. Nothing like the romanticized crossroads deals you see in tv shows and movies.

Truthfully, you’re not even sure if he’s a punishment for you or if you’re a reward for him. What’s that line you read online once? Dog heaven is squirrel hell. Did he make a deal with you, or did he make a deal with something else, and you’re just collateral?

You never bother to ask. He’ll just click his forked tongue and tell you that it won’t get rid of him either way. The worst part is that he’ll be right. You’re pretty sure the Christian God as you know Him has nothing to do with any of this.

The mission doesn’t matter, not really. You only listen for objectives. Whoever needs killing, whatever information needs gathering, wherever the hostages are. The rest is all useless extra, so much noise to Nikto, not even listening. He’s too busy bullying his way between your thighs, sinking his teeth into the meat through your cargos.

You’re never sure if he’s visible or the other operatives just avoid looking at him in these moments. Regardless, you flush and kick at him when his jaw locks too hard. It’ll bruise livid and ugly, and he’ll fuck the head of his cock into the aching ring of teeth prints left behind.

He’s insistent when the briefing is over, riled up by the promise of bloodshed. Pushy and growling, nearly snapping through his “mask” as he herds you like a rabid shepherd to your temporary quarters.

He fucks you in the doorway though, using one thick arm to bounce you like a personal fleshlight. The other keeps your jaw forced open so he can spit and lick into your mouth, obscene and filthy.

You push and squirm, but he just laughs that awful, maniacal rattle and grinds your clit into his pelvis. Until you start to mean it when you whimper “no” and “stop.” It always makes him cum so hard that you taste ichor in the back of your throat.

It’s too much to hope that you’ll eat in the mess hall uninterrupted. Nikto’s presence attracts the worst, and Krueger is compelled to pick at the weakness you exude. It’s no question that he’s a bigger, stronger, meaner beast than you. But like a dying soldier left to scream in the field, there’s a muzzle hidden out of sight, awaiting whatever is lured in – for mercy or to feast.

Krueger takes the seat across from you, one of his boots landing heavy and threatening on top of yours. You eat quietly, picking at your mashed potatoes and rubbery chicken. Listen to him jab and jeer.

Nikto is there but he’s not. He’s laughing in your ear at all the true but derisive things Krueger is taunting you with. All the sins he boasts of and the reactions he takes as proof of your inadequacy for the assignment you’ve been brought for. It would hurt more of you didn’t know it was true – and if your nerves weren’t rattling.

There’s a line, always a line. Some fault hidden beneath the surface that you don’t see until the ground splits and swallows up the unfortunate soul above.

This time, it’s a comment about how much more useful you’d be as a cockwarmer.

The plastic fork is an inch from his eye by the time you finish blinking.

“Nikto, stop!”

It snaps in his tight fist – but stops. Krueger hasn’t even processed how close he was to losing half his sight before you’re yanking Nikto back by the straps. He’s growling, snarling, half-crazed over a comment he’s made himself. You abandon your mostly full tray and the table altogether, putting all your weight and strength into dragging him from the cafeteria.

“Calm down, that’s enough!” you shout over the animalistic sounds ripping from his throat.

He turns on you instead. Pins you to the wall just outside, in full view of anyone passing on their way to dinner.

“Mine, mine, mine,” he’s chanting. Ripping through your pants (that’s the second pair this week) and thrusting against the seam of your ass. Already leaking precum from an obsidian tip at the small of your back, the corpse-pale base nestled between your cheeks. If he had the coordination through the frenzy, he’d stuff it into you dry and tight. As it is, it’s all he can do to buck against you, fingers digging divots into the cement wall, dust raining down on your face.

Mine, mine, mine, he chants inside your skull in languages known and unknown. You’re leaking through your underwear, too overwhelmed and bewildered to be anything but turned on. Fear is synonymous with attraction, those two wires soldered together and circuited to your pussy.

Copper fills your nose, warmth drips down your lips. Nikto scents it like a hound, yanks your head back to lap at the blood, groaning into your mouth.

Yours, yours, yours as his cock splutters against your spine, too hot. Tingly, almost caustic. You can barely breathe and he’s hauling you over one big shoulder, scooping your slick to prod at the hole he was just grinding against.

Us as you’re pinned with nowhere to go and no voice to praise or protest. In a room darker than a void. Suspended on an endless continuum of pleasure and pain, phantom claws raking your skin and phantom mouths filling whatever holes his cock isn’t occupying.

Sometimes you wonder if the plural “we” and “us” he tends to use is in reference to you and him, or…

The mission is going to be a success, it always is. You separate from the rest of the KorTac squad, shooing Nikto’s hands out from under your shirt. The claw marks still sting; the sooner you can get out of tac gear, the better.

He cracks his neck as the two of you approach the infil point. It sounds like snapping bone. A crescent moon carves into the night sky, sharp enough to cut yourself on.

“Is it time, khozyain?”

Those cajoling whispers caress your ears again. To let him run rampant, to let him fill your bath with blood. He’d be a scourge on the earth if you let him, a one-man apocalypse. The death of the world for a slip of the tongue.

Your hold on his leash is so tight that it’s imprinted past the skin, down into muscle. But on nights like tonight, for things like this… you let out the lead.

“Stay clear of Point B,” you remind into your com.

“Roger,” all others agree.

If they know what’s good for them, they’ll abide by the plan like holy writ. Not even you can promise their lives if they stray.

Shadow looms behind you, grows with each beat of your heart, spills over your shoulders, threads down your arms. You don’t dare glance at the inhuman head hovering right by yours, the maw parting for vicious, pearlescent teeth and pooling saliva. Hungry. Starving.

“Nikto.”

A rolling, ravenous churr vibrates through your skull. The lowest windows of your target begin to crack.

“Hunt.”

[stopaskinf]

“Love you just a little too much.”

Summary: Taehyung really likes you.

Genre: Yandere Taehyung, Dark? Fic

CW: Cursing, clingy behavior, overbearing Tae, description of bodily stuff, smut lowkey, Tae has sub tendencies argue with the mirror

Word Count: 0.5K

A/N: This was kinda hard to write for me. I apologize to the Tae girlies I made him insufferable😅.

Kim Taehyung is clingy.

Within him lies the purest form of anxious attachment.

A wriggling parasite who chews up solitude to shit out buzzing noise instead.

He never seems to know what’s going on, but watch his head do a 360 when he hears your name or footsteps.

He’ll follow you around the room like he’s your tail until you sit down.

Once you’re seated, he’ll invade any idea of personal space you have.

His long slender fingers will cage your shoulders as his pointed black irises will bore into you. You think the only time this man stops looking at you is when he blinks.

His cologne will seize all other scents in the room as he practically lays on you. It used to be a musky, almost spicy scent that used to follow him, but that’s changed. He offhandedly heard someone say you like “Woody, less intense” scents and now he walks around smelling vaguely of roses and sandalwood.

He’s fucking smothering.

He would sit on your lap and fully cage you within his long limbs if he could. You’d carry him around like a human backpack.

Or, if he feels more salacious, he imagines sitting on your lap and humping your thigh or shoes. You always said he acted like a loyal dog around you. He’d be more than happy to prove you right. He would prefer your genitals, but he needs to take what he can get.

God forbid he can’t be in your presence. When you leave, there lies a man so abhorrent in body and soul.

God forbid you give him any way to contact you to avoid the dread he brings upon his members.

I miss you.💜

Come over. Yeotan wants to see you.

Why aren’t you answering? Don’t you like me?

Good Morning, did you sleep in? You’d usually be awake by now. 💜

Can you lend me a hoodie? No, I didn’t forget mine, I just miss your scent. 💜

I think I like you too much. Do you like me?

I had a dream about you last night. Do you ever dream about me?

I wish you slept over. The bed feels empty when you’re not here. The night is overwhelming.

Answering back almost seems like a losing game. Every text or call you try to answer increases within a second. Him in person is almost preferable. At least in person, you can leave his home and feel a sense of freedom. Of reminding yourself that you are one person, instead of the forced conjoined monster that Tae has made you both into.

You can sense that Tae hates it when you leave, but he’ll at least pretend to be reasonable. If you squeeze too tight, eventually it’ll burst.

Still, in those late nights laying in bed alone, he can’t help but let his mind wander.

What if you two were closer?

The idea of you two fusing, your pupils doubling and your irises splitting. Yours and his thoughts ringing in your shared mind, forever drowning in noise until they surely meld together.

God, he needs that.

He’ll try and subtly slip it into conversation tomorrow.

You wouldn’t mind, would you?

[rpstartersinc]

* 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 ( 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑. )

feel free to change pronouns / wording!

" it's amazing how physically exhausting it can be to do nothing. "

" if you are unable to endure boredom, this work is not for you. "

" i am what i am. "

" i'm not exceptional, i'm just a part. "

" consider yourself lucky if our paths never cross. "

" luck isn't real, nor is karma, or sadly - justice. "

" one is born, lives their life and eventually, one dies. "

" most people refuse to believe that the great beyond is no more than a cold, infinite void. "

" avoid being seen, which is impossible in the twenty-first century, so at least avoid being memorable. "

" keep calm, keep moving. "

" it's a dog-eat-dog world. "

" every man for himself. "

" kill or be killed. "

" survival of the fittest, isn't it all just human nature? "

" it's the idle hours that most often lead a man to ruin. "

" i'm aided and abetted by law enforcement fatigue. "

" vigilance is essential, even the most disciplined mind can become weary, impatient, hurried, sloppy. "

" i find music a useful distraction. "

" i'm not here to take sides. "

" it's not my place to formulate any opinion. "

" no one who can afford me needs to waste time winning me to some cause. "

" i serve no god or country. "

" if i'm effective, it's because of one simple fact - i don't give a fuck. "

" each and every step of the way, ask yourself - what's in it for me? "

" you've done what you can do. "

" calm, breathe. "

" obviously it's a fucking problem to say the least. "

" there were two of them. "

" i've learned not to pry. "

" i was so afraid, afraid i might say something. "

" you'd have been proud, i was strong. "

" i don't know who they are, don't wanna know who you are either. "

" care to explain yourself? "

" who do you think you're trying to intimidate? "

" i need that information, and you are running outta time. "

" need any help getting rid of that body? "

" i'm not a bad person. "

" hope they're not planning a sleepover. "

" how's 'i don't give a fuck' going? "

" fight only the battle you're paid to fight. "

" you picked the wrong house, motherfucker. "

" it's common knowledge when a female is found slain, the prime suspect is always the husband or boyfriend. "

" well, maybe not common knowledge. "

" i've been so good for so long. "

" tell me he went horribly. "

" you would be very impolite to refuse to join in my last supper. "

" afraid it's tainted? "

" what happened to her, i had no part in. "

" i objected to his methods and i told him so. "

" it's nothing personal. "

" we've all had to work through the occasional civilian who's stood between eyes and the prize. "

" i was surprised at what i was capable of. "

" how easy it was. "

" i assured myself there were some things i would never do. "

" less you know, the better. "

" one man's cruelty is another man's pragmatism. "

" you're here because you couldn't help yourself. "

" you expected to sit across from me and feel nothing but reassured. "

" how is it possible? having prepared myself for this moment for so long, i have failed to believe that it would ever arrive. "

" i wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy, who, come to think of it, at this moment, is you. "

" you'll remember our conversation. "

" help a girl out, won't you? "

" trust no one. "

" this is what it takes, if you want to succeed. "

" good enough for james bond. "

" i told you this, and you don't listen to me. "

" once i see his eyes, i'll have a pretty good idea of how this is gonna go. "

" i'm not going to be disappointed in you. "

" i came to show you how easily one might get to you. "

" do you and i have a problem? "

" nobody's perfect. "

" the need to feel secure, it's a slippery slope. "

" fate is a placebo. "

" maybe you're not one of the few. "

[mysoncookie]

BNHA Dabi-Centric fic recs

Artificial Parenthood, Affectionate Brotherhood by cereal_whore

Teen & Up, Gen, No Archive Warnings

Available on Ao3, On Going | Wordcount: 208,780

Has an On Going Series Called "Dabi says fuck the human species: artificial natural selection addition"

Summary: 22-year-old dabi switches place with ten-year-old touya todoroki in their timeline Bakugou, a single child with the social skills of an apathetic gamer, runs into a cellular mass of anxiety that vibrates the same murderous rage of a chihuahua. Said kid is as problematic as Bakugou himself, is a ginger, does not fear the laws of this land, and doesn't even seem to be from this land- or more accurately, time. Between Bakugou's homicidal urges, Todoroki Shouto's lack of filter, and God's middle finger, lies the Pandora's Box of the Todoroki's household secrets, in the form of a child named Touya Todoroki, who hates fish and has never heard of Minecraft. Todoroki Shouto just wants joint custody over his own older brother who's now inexplicably ten-years-old. So clearly, the only effective solution would be to force Bakugou to adopt him and all his other siblings. Meanwhile, Dabi, still in a world that never wanted him, learns that maybe an old dog can't learn new tricks (a truth he realises, when he finds himself reunited with a nine-year-old Shigaraki, who might not be past saving, the way he will be a decade later).

Lay Me on a Pyre (Sacrifice me for your sins) by RadioSilencer

General Audience, Gen, No Archive Warnings Apply

Available on Ao3, On Going | Wordcount: 29,126

Summary: “Ah, and I hate to do this to you, but there’s a couple questions we have to ask since you’re awake now. Is that all right?” Wondering why his input was needed for that, Touya nodded. Anything they wanted. Whatever he could do to be less of an embarrassment. “Okay then, tell me if you need a moment whenever,” the woman started, “your name.” “Todoroki.” Even if he wished it wasn’t (and everyone else probably did too). “Todoroki Touya.” (A bystander loses control, and Todoroki Touya opens his eyes to a brighter world than he left behind.)

By Any Other Name by SatelliteBlue

Teen & Up, M/M, No Archive Warnings Apply

Available on Ao3, Complete | Wordcount: 258,617

Has an On Going series called "Will you accept this rose?"

Summary: Through some freak accident of the universe, Dabi has been invited to compete on The Bachelorette. Have they actually seen his face? Surprisingly yes, and they still want him. For this season they apparently need a ‘bad boy’ to both balance out the hero contestant (why in hell is Hawks involved?) and to trash talk the show in interviews to appeal to audiences who don’t like the scripting. Getting sent on a vacation away from his annoying bandmates to complain and eat as much free food as he wants? Sold.

The Difference Between an Heir and a Son by ofHeartmateAndSoulbeats

General Audience, Gen, No Archive Warning Apply

Available on Ao3, On Going | Wordcount: 11,774

Summary: ...because if Enji had ever loved any of his children, it would have been Touya

Brother by Dreamy_Cel_100

Teen & Up, M/M, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Available on Ao3, Complete | Wordcount: 79,561

Summary: Todoroki Touya has never known comfort. He just didn’t realize he wasn’t the only one. Or When Touya runs away, he decides to take his kid brother. And instead of joining villainy he attempts to create the home he never had.

Sins of the Father by kanekki

Teen & Up, M/M, No Archive Warnings Apply

Available on Ao3, Complete | Wordcount: 32,411

Has a Complete Series called "the hellish todoroki family"

Summary: Shouto’s lower lip wobbles as he cries. “M-Momma hurt me and Father sent her away. I m-miss you Touya, please come home. It’s scary without you.”

“Alright,” Dabi says soothingly while he glares at the heroes, “We’re going to my place then. Your nii-san’s going to protect you now, okay?”

Shouto is accidentally rewound by Eri’s quirk in the middle of a villain attack, reverting him to a small child with no memories of his future. Dabi takes the opportunity to bring Shouto with him to the League of Villains headquarters to remove him from Endeavor’s clutches.

little brother, we are all grieving by jurassicqueer (kukurosaki)

Mature, Gen, M/M, No Archive Warnings Apply

Available on Ao3, Complete | Wordcount: 29,561

Summary: When a teenager is dragged into a police station by someone with a self-proclaimed de-aging quirk, it seems too improbable that one of the most notorious villains in Japan could actually be reverted to a scrawny sixteen year old.

But then the blood tests come back, and the quirk labs hand in their results, and it seems that Dabi really is a teenager again- and claiming to be the dead Todoroki Touya, of all things.

OR: Touya never expected to wake up a wanted fugitive, but with his luck, he's hardly surprised.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

as per requested from my previous post I updated my fic recs on dabi and ofc I added the bachelorette au that y'all been talking about tnx to @attackontreason for recommending it ksksks

[doktorzephyr]

hi im fucking insane and ultrakill somehow got me into angelology. heres some stuff on the archangel gabriel in reference to the occult/abrahamic magick

edit; added the meanings of the tarot at the bottom have fun ;)

As the Divine Herald, he is an angel of guidance, prophecies and revelations. He is also the Patron Saint of Messengers; mail carriers, news outlets, radio stations or any outlet that messages can be delivered through, he’s the one that can aid the most. As the angel who will blow the first horn of the final judgment, he is seen to also represent judgment. He is sometimes even seen as an angel of motherhood due to his announcement of the birth of Christ and John the Baptist. He represents the spiritual power of God, His ideals and principles of spirituality. As a result, he is seen as an angel of spirituality, dreams, divination and even magick.

He can be invoked for:

Guidance

Faith

Hope

Strength

Spiritual aid

Dreaming/dream interpretation

Theology

Understanding scripture

Birth

Here’s symbols he is associated with:

Element; Water (Spirituality, change, emotions)

Planet; Moon (Spirituality, magick, guidance)

Day of the week; Monday

Colors; White, silver

Animal; White dove (Holy Spirit)

Tarot; House of Cups, The Star, The High Priestess, Temperance, The Moon, Judgment*

Cardinal direction; West

Season; Winter

Other symbols; White lilies, trumpet, banner, feathers

How to connect with him:

Devotional Activities

Praying

Meditation

Fasting

Reading the Bible

Studying theology

Educating yourself about religion/sprituality

Material Offerings

Flowers (White lilies, white roses, lavender)

Incense (Jasmine, frankincense, lavender, rose)

White wine

Feathers

Perfume

Candles (White or silver)

Prayer cards

Bible verses

Poems/art

Moon, water, magick or religion associated items (moonstone, holy water, tarot card, etc.)

Archangels prefer devotional activities as offerings over material ones, though they will not reject them.

He can help with;

Lucid dreaming

Receiving visions

Developing divination skills and spiritual awareness

Lack of belief

Communication issues

Magick workings

When you feel lost/don’t know how to continue/unsure of how to move forward

His Kabbalistic sigil

His seal from the Heptameron

All in all, Gabriel is a very firm but merciful angel. He can be a bit pushy when you are not doing the right thing, but he is less rough about it than, say, Michael. He has a better understanding of human emotions than most angels and will act a bit more accordingly. When you don’t know where to go in life or have no ideas on how to move on, he is the one that should be contacted. He is also sometimes associated with the divine feminine due to his associations withe the moon and motherhood. He is usually seen as 3rd to God, with Michael or Sandalphon being 2nd.

Some extras about the archangels in general;

Angels mostly see humans like how we see dogs and often have a lesser understanding of human egos. It should be noted that angels have a bit of a reputation of being more difficult to work with due to them expecting a lot of discipline. They will not give you what you want, they will make you work for what you need. If one wishes to work with the archangels, they expect constant self improvement.

bit of a p.s; despite Archangel being the 2nd lowest on the hierarchy, they are the most powerful angels. Archangel is a rank and it means “governing angel” or “ruling angel”, they rule over other parts of the hierarchy (i.e Michael rules over the seraphim, Gabriel rules over the cherubim). Archangels are often called “the great princes”, however, Michael is the only one in the Bible to actually receive that title. The only reason why they are so low on the hierarchy is because they are physically far from God, as they spend their time on Earth helping humanity.

* What each of the tarot cards mean

House of Cups- relates to emotions and matters of the heart. Associated with love, feeling and inner conflict, they ask us to consider what is deeply important to us

The Star- the embodiment of hope and healing brings a message of renewal, optimism, and inspiration. When pulled, remember that the universe is working in your favor, and is encouraging you to have faith in where you are being taken.

The High Priestess- listen to your inner voice and follow your instincts, your mind knows far more than you think. When pulled, stop looking for answers around you and start looking within yourself for the guidance you seek.

Temperance- encourages peace and patience, reminds you to go with the flow of life instead of trying to force a pace and direction. When pulled, it is a message to take things as they come, and remain flexible enough to change with the changes.

The Moon- represents hidden thoughts, feelings, doubts, and fears. When pulled, you may be letting fear overtake your faith in the future. Do not be fooled, you cannot believe everything that you see, hear, or think. Once you bring your feelings to the surface and face them, only then can you rid yourself of worry.

Judgment- your past and future come together. When pulled, reflect on your decisions and actions you have made up until now and make sure that they are bringing you in the direction you want. Remember, your future is not set in stone, and it's never too late to make a change for the better.

thanks for listening to my madman ramblings baiiiii

[meorb]

Guys forewarning I have an absolute obsession with Valeria Garza also this is super sloppy sooo my bad if it sucks

Warnings: Nsfw, toxic relationship, cheating, dependence, worship, situationship sort of?? Idk I don't think anything else.

It was still morning. The sun has barely risen and the soft glow of the sunrise is casting through the windows onto the prettiest woman in the world, who's pulling her shirt over her freshly clasped bra. You wished she would stay a bit longer. That she wouldn't leave every morning and come back in the middle of the night, naked and standing over you, trying to let out steam. But you didn't have a say in that. It didn't matter who you were, you couldn't tell Valeria what to do. She was in control of everything in Las Almas, even the police. She could feel you staring at her back, could practically taste the ache in your body and the self restraint as to not grab her and force her to stay with you for just a bit longer, to keep her close and pretend like you weren't just the toy she came back to at night. She was bad for you, but you were whipped for her. She could say anything to you and you would come crawling back to her the moment she snapped her fingers, like a well trained dog. Sure, she never outwardly said anything too rude to you, and you had only caught her in bed with two other guys, so even if it wasn't official, you two were practically dating. You lift your hand slightly off of the bed, wanting to reach out to her, to touch her skin, but you hesitated and sat your hand back down as she turned to you.

"You're up early." No you weren't. For the past year you've been waking up right before she did just so you could stare at her a little before she left.

"I wanted to see you." Not a lie, but still a brave thing to say. If she hasn't noticed for the past year, why would she care today? She lets out a low hum and sits on the bed, facing away from you, and there's some glimmer of hope that she'll lay in your arms and her body would be less stiff, as if she was human instead of some ruthless cartel leader. You reach out again, your hand lightly resting against her waist, but she doesn't react. She just continues putting her boots on, seemingly ignoring you. It wasn't your turn to have her. You were just her stress relief, something she could fuck and hold at night and nothing else. More of a pet than a lover. "You should stay a bit longer," you murmured, and she turned to look at you, her gaze not nearly as soft as yours. You were curled in the sheets, the sunlight and silk making you look like a god. But she was God. Even as she squinted from the sunlight and gave you a grimace, you felt like God herself had given you the only blessing you would ever ask for.

"I have a meeting." It was no surprise, she had meetings everyday, from what she said. Sometimes you thought she was running away from you. That maybe she regretted that she was, by all means, running back to you as much as you did her. Even after she "cheated", she would still end up sleeping with you tucked into the bed beside her. Sure, she didn't care how you felt, but that wasn't even close to meaning that she didn't need you. She wouldn't have kept you around this long if she didn't. You sighed and slipped your hand off of her waist, slipping back into the safety of her silk sheets.

"Can't you postpone? Just this once?" You were starting to agitate her. You were just as needy as she was, maybe even less, but you were the only one vocal about it. She couldn't stand it. She didn't want you to be soft, she didn't want you to have feelings. She didn't want to feel bad when she left you in the dust.

"No," she said flatly. The dull ache in your chest worsened, and you gave a small sigh, then nodded slightly. Right. You weren't even close to being the most important thing in her life. You were only higher than the dirt she stepped on. You flipped onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. The fan needed dusted, maybe you could clean while she was gone, make some use of yourself besides your tongue and your cock.

"You know, you wouldn't have to worry about meetings and leaving so early if you-" She cut you off with a dry laugh, rolling her eyes. You couldn't see her doing it, but you could just tell. You had been more adamant recently about having her move with you, so that you could go somewhere nice and have an actual relationship. She didn't want that. She wanted her cartel.

"Dios mío, we aren't moving," she grumbled, turning to you with a sour expression. You were trying to make her soft. You were trying to widdle her down to be dependent so you could take power, weren't you? She takes a deep breath, then sighs. "Now shut up about it." Her tone is sharp, commanding, and you know it isn't a request. She's telling you to shut up, and you best follow. So you do. You stay silent, holding in your frustration as you stare up at the ceiling, wishing and praying that something would convince her. You were praying to her. You were praying for her. She left the room silently, not even bothering to say goodbye. You turned around and fell back asleep.

You were in the bathroom brushing your teeth when she finally came back, earlier than always. She had a small grin on her face as she snuck up behind you, predatory as always, but with a tinge of something different this time. She lifted your shirt, running her fingers over your stomach and looking at you through the mirror as you put the toothpaste on your toothbrush. She slipped it out of your hand, sitting it down on the countertop of the sink.

"I postponed a meeting so I could come back earlier." all it took was that sentence and every ounce of frustration you had with her slipped out of the window to never be seen again. You flushed, and turned around, looking down at her and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Thank you," you said, cupping her cheek with your soft hand. She smiled slightly more, seeming more genuine this time. What happened that made her like this? It was worrying in a way, she was never this soft towards you. Maybe she had seen something today. Maybe she was drunk. Her hands were slowly slipping down from your stomach, running over the waistband of your boxers to lightly rub the inside of your thigh. She dragged you to her bed, slipping under you on the sheets and looking up at you, smiling more than you had ever seen her smile. "I love you." You knew she wouldn't say it back. She never did. She thought it made her weak.

"You look so pretty on me." Her voice was low, and she wrapped her hands around your neck, feeling you prod against her thigh. She giggles, clearly on something, and pulls your boxers down, then pulls her pants and panties down, her slick shining in the light. You let out a low whine as she wrapped her warm hand around your cock, hissing as you immediately feel the warmth of her greedy pussy sucking your tip in.

"F-fuck, Val. Shouldn't we do prep first? I-I mean, I know you love me eating you out-" You weren't sure you would last long if she toke you raw. And that would be...more than embarrassing. Despite your protest, she only tugged on your cock, which you gratefully followed, your cock filling her so pleasantly with a squelch and a moan as you closed your eyes, feeling her warm cunt encapsulate you, a long with the drip of cum down your thigh. What the fuck? You look down, panting as your gaze meets with her freshly shaven pussy, then the cum leaking out of her cunt. "A-are you fucking serious?" You say, trying to hold back tears and pull out, but she only wrapped his legs around you to keep your tip pressing against her cervix.

"C'mon...good boy, fuck me right." She grins, and you try and pull away, but she only manhandles you onto your back, her ass and leaky cunt flush against your thighs and stomach.

"Val, I trusted you. I thought you wouldnt-" you let out a load gasp of pleasure as she pulls off, then slams back down onto your cock, her soaked cunt squelching with each new bounce of her hips. Technically she never said she wouldn't ever cheat again, she hadn't even said they were officially dating. She only ignored you, desperately rutting against you and smearing another man's cum onto your thighs, your hands shaking and your mouth open as gasps and moans fall from your lips. You felt so close already, and by the way she was getting sloppier, you could tell she was, too.

"So goddamn big...filling me so full." It was like you had snapped again, and you abruptly grab her hips and keep her pulled down on your cock, spilling thick ropes of cum into her and arching your back as you felt the pressure against your stomach of her squirting from your dick. It was so wonderful you honestly thought you would still be hard when she pulled off. You had never came in her like that. You hoped she didn't have birth control. There was a sick part of you that was hoping she would get pregnant with your baby. That way you could force her to stay and just accept that you loved her and that she would have to be loved. But you couldn't do that to her. You felt her pull off and roll onto the bed beside you, wrapping a leg around you and holding you close, her still soaked pussy flat against your side.

"Mine," she murmured.

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - The Little Toaster Who Could, Is An Asshole

@lovelyunknown @princessfanonanona @fangirlwriting-stories @fentoaster @axion-labs @turtlesnails @littlebadger

Toaster powers go! Terrorise the half-dead teen that hates toast! He deserves it! According to Wes at least.

Wes glares at Danny, Danny stares back in unbridled glee.

Wes flips him off, Danny flips him off right back… before doing double finger guns and sticking out his tongue.

Wes slams down the notebook he’d been using in an attempt to ‘write down’ his ‘proof’, not that written shit counted for shit with any of this shit, pointing aggressively at Danny; Danny points at himself too just very mockingly.

“Would you two stop making all my staff laugh? They have jobs to do and you’re half way to me just kicking you out”.

Wes rounds on the manager or owner lady, “but he is dead! He threw eggs at me! Invisible eggs!”.

Danny’s grin from the front doorway is a bit manic, “where would I even get invisible eggs! Huh Wes! Ever think about that one!”.

“Fuck you!”.

“Fuck yourself!”.

“You dated a damn harpy!”.

“Are you saying I unalived my own eggs!”.

“Why are you censoring yourself!”.

“Because you’re a weak little baby boy bitch!”.

“We are the SAME AGE!”.

“Say that to time daddy’s face! I dare you!”.

The owner lady throws her hands up, snapping, “out! Get out!”, at Wes.

Wes looks afronted, because he is, “what? Just me?!”, gesturing at Danny aggressively, “him????”.

She sighs, “he’s not actually inside my store, you are. Out”. She’s thankfully when Wes actually leaves, even if the teen hurls his ‘research’ at the Fenton boy first and runs after the Fenton kid when said Fenton starts sticking the notebook in his mouth and shaking his head back and forth like a feral dog.

There was something very wrong with both of those boys. Something very very wrong. The Fenton boy was definitely not dead though, that would be far too normal for a Fenton so unhinged.

Wes grabs the end of his notebook, Danny does not stop shaking his head though, resulting in Wes’s lanky ass getting flung and smacked around. Danny intentionally makes his mouth frothy for added rabies effect. Making Wes have to shake off, and pull a tooth out of, his notebook once he does successfully rip it out of Danny’s mouth. “Your existence is a crime and affront to god”.

Danny open mouth grins cheerily, “I thought I already established that the day I was reborn into death”.

Wes immediately writes that ‘quote’ down in his book.

Danny stares judgingly, “are you writing all my word weavy bullshit down? Really? That’s kinda sad, man”.

Wes scowls back, “that’s the thirty-second different way you’ve described being dead, one day that will add up and people won’t be able to deny me”.

“You’re gonna be great for my Wikipedia article one day, when you work for me as my maid”.

“Fuck you”.

“It’s still easier for you to fuck yourself you know”.

Wes tackles him, “oh how I wish someone else had to see you and your bullshit!”.

Danny scowls with feeling, slapping Wes a couple of times as they roll around on the ground getting muddy as fuck since it was raining out, “why would you say that! The curs-ed word! Banishment to the sinner! Boo!”.

“BOO YOURSELF!”.

“HOW DARE YOU! THAT’S MY LINE!”.

“YOU STARTED IT, I’LL FINISH IT!”.

“YOU CAN’T FINISH THE EXISTENCE OF A PHRASE YOU DIPSHIT!”.

“JUST LIKE YOU COULDN'T FINISH OFF YOURSELF PROPERLY!”.

Danny snarls, “I’m going to break you like a toothpick”, and pins Wes down using more arms than humanly possible.

Wes wishes he had his camera.

Wes does not have his camera.

At least Danny’s stupid ass ain’t heavy enough to break his ribs. “You weigh less than a bag of potatoes, go ahead and try”.

Now if Wes was a ghost, and thus could just reform a torn off limb, Danny would actually break his arm. But Wes is human and thus can’t do that. Meaning Danny can’t do that to him. Oh the woes of being morally in the right. If Wes were Vlad and a billionaire then Danny’d just burn down his house in recompense. Is he mentally using the word wildly wrong? Mostly likely, shut up Jazz.

Besides, Vlad would take the arson as a compliment and praise him.

Wes huffs, tired, “are you going to clean me off or not?”. Danny smirks and turns the teen intangible, all the muck falling through the teen… as well as all of his clothing except his underwear. Danny running off immediately while sticking his tongue out and cackling; all while Wes is scrambling up off the ground, wadding his re-soaked muddy clothes up, and hurling them after Danny.

They nail Danny in the head, making the stupid half-ghost face-plant into a streetlight. Wes shouting, “HA!”.

But Danny scrambles up himself, grabs the clothing, and holds them above his head, “mine now bitch! THE SPOILS OF WAR BELONG TO THE VICTOR!”.

Leaving Wes huffing, panting, by himself, slowly realizing that now he has to walk home muddy and practically naked… “Zone DAMN IT PHANTOM!”.

Danny, in distance, can be heard shouting, “GET WRECKED!”, by more than a handful of people. Everyone and their mother knowing that means the Fenton and Weston kids had gone at it again.

Danny floats down through the rarely used ‘attic’ grinning to himself, he felt like he accomplished a lot today. Looking around for an empty box, he is absolutely packaging up Wes’s clothes -without washing them- and mailing them through the post back to him. They were gonna be rank when the guy opened it up. Ha! What fun!

Transforming back as he finds a suitable box and some packing tape; dropping the clothing in unceremoniously with a feral grin.

Unfortunately it looks like today’s tomfuckery wasn’t quite done with him, as a voice he’s never heard (he thinks) shouts, “oh what the freshy fruity fuck!”.

Danny jumping up and spinning around, right, fuck, Wes saying a stupid wish. Fucking asshole! He should know better! And of course Danny would have been too distracted tormenting Wes to have noticed his ghost sense going off. Ancients end him entirely.

Thing is though? There’s no one. Like, actually no one, “what the?”. Oh is someone spying on him again? Someone who’s not Vlad?

And whom probably doesn’t have positive-ish motives for it?

That would be his luck after all.

The voice pipes back up again, “how the Hell do I! Me! Find this massive crap out! Are you always so pissy wissy with your shitty shit!”.

Danny starts pushing stuff around to figure out where the Zone the Voice is coming from.

It’s…

It’s a fucking toaster???

A TOASTER?????

The toaster seems disgruntled, the toaster flings itself at Danny’s face.

Danny promptly swats it into a wall.

Why is a toaster talking to him? How is a toaster talking to him? It attacked him! Sure that last part wasn’t super weird since Technus assaulted him with random appliances all the time, but still.

“Oh cool, a wall, as if being a toaster wasn’t hard enough”.

“Why are you talking?! How!”.

The toaster flops from side to side in a weird version of walking at Danny vaguely aggressively, “oh you know, only your happy pappy toasterifying me for the fuckin’ lolly lols or some somersault shit”, it uses its cord to throw a picture frame vaguely in Danny’s direction. Apparently the toaster had some pent up rage.

Fair.

So did Danny.

Danny side steps the picture frame, “and when did he do this? How even? You are like a whole ass person in there?”.

The toaster seems infuriated, slapping its cord around, “of course I am, numbnuts! I wasn’t born as no tinker toy bullshit! Who the fuck would give birth to a toaster!”, the toaster spits toast at him.

Danny is highly offended. He really hates toast.

Like if the universe had created one true evil it would be in the form of toast and only toast. Always toast. “Don’t spit toast at me! You absolute heathen!”.

“I’ll spit what I diddly darn wanna! Fuck you! I’m your upperclassman any ways, Fenton! So deally wheelly!”.

Oh ancients his dad turned one of his classmates into a fucking toaster. A toaster that’s spitting more roasted toast at him likely out of spite. Danny impales a piece into the wall with an ice spear.

The toaster snares, “don’t abuse my creations!”.

“Like Hell I won’t! Fuck toast!”, Danny tries tackling the toaster, it uses its cord to grab on to a lamp and effectively flee from Danny’s would be constrictive grasp. Danny shouting, “do you want to be detoasted or not!”.

“Oh it’s too late for that, you douchey canoey! Your poopy poppy sold that ‘ish to a Cullen Family wannabe actor with rich sauce for flavouring!”

Fucking Vlad! Ancients. Danny swears that, the sometimes vaguely evil, ‘mentor’/‘uncle’ of his gets into more weird shit than Danny did. And Danny’s the one who more or less infected an entire town with death, so that’s a feat and a half. Danny grinning, “I know that cash money bitch, I can take you there if you!”, another piece of toast is fired off, “just!”, more toast spit, “stop!”, again! Toast!, “assaulting!”, more toast, “me!”, you guessed it! Toast, “with!”, annnnnnd TOAST, “toast!”.

The toaster growls, it sounds like the metal shit inside it is clanging around violently, but Danny does manage to tackle it and walk through the attic wall all while holding it at arms length like it’s a bomb.

More than a couple people see the Fenton boy just… walking down the street screaming shrieking practically incoherently at a toaster he’s holding as far away from himself as possible; the toaster is firing toast haphazardly into the air and shaking wildly every so often… as if there’s some kind of demonic possession fuelled conversation going on.

Absolutely no one approaches to ask. And that was only partly because a random construction worker got thrown by the toaster cord at one point.

One person did shout, “watcha got there?!?”, at the teen though. Who had just responded with, “A SMOOTHIE! AN ANGRY TOAST SMOOTHIE!”.

Wes saw a video of it, Wes cackled meanly. He might have had an embarrassing walk home but at least he had a new phone background photo.

Danny hurls the toaster at the door in lieu of knocking, at least his coordination does not suck and he catches the toaster as it bounces back at him. The toaster shrieking, “I will bake you like a crispy spaghetti bolognese!”.

“Are you a fucking toaster or an oven!”.

“I’m a McHeaty McMaddy bitch either way!”.

Vlad opens the door with, “‘Maddie’?”, he is clearly extremely confused.

Danny grumbling, figures, “of course you heard the ‘maddy’ part and no not mom, this thing just speaks like a fucking lunatic”, and practically shoves the toaster at Vlad’s chest, “here, I… I need your help. I have a sentient toaster, that knows I’m vaguely dead-ish, ‘cause I do not look out for fucking toasters when transforming and shit”.

The toaster vibrates against Vlad’s chest and fancy suit, “then you’re a stupidy stopidy bibidy bopidy fool!”. Vlad looks offended.

Fucking good, honestly. Danny huffing and continuing like he hadn’t been interrupted, “and apparently Jack toasterified this toaster that used to not be a toaster and instead be a person, and apparently mailed a ‘Cullen Family actor wannabe with rich sauce for flavouring’ -which must be you- the invention dad did this with because he no longer, and I quote, ‘trusty-wustied him selfie-welfie’. Please tell me you have more tolerance for toaster spit than I do”.

Vlad sighs heavily, it’s both fond and annoyed. The man lets him and the toaster in at least.

Of course then the toaster instantly flees from his grasp. Like a dick.

Both him and Vlad just watch the thing fling itself around the mansion with its cord and ‘feet’. Vlad blinking, “this is somehow the strangest thing I’ve ever had to help you with”.

“I know right?”.

…”why is it a toaster?”, the toaster attempts to toast some of Vlad‘s paperwork, it unfortunately works. “I’ll admit to not believing that odd letter Jack sent about making a teenage toaster, I regret that decision deeply”.

“That’s fair”.

They both have to rush to put out the fire the toaster’s started, Danny shouting, “there is something seriously wrong with you!”.

“I’VE BEEN A TOASTER FOR A YEAR! HOW WOULD YOU FUCKY WHUCKY FEELY ABOUT THAT!”.

Danny nods acceptingly while chasing the thing, “I’d cry”. It’s true. He would.

Vlad actually laughs while helping with the chase, “yes the horror of being something that near exclusively creates your one true hate and fear”.

“Says the alcoholic!”.

“I thought you liked drinking with me?”.

Danny stops and shrugs at the man, “I mean yeah, but you kinda got a bit of an issue that we should probably sort out some day”, eyeing the toaster sucking in one of the portraits Vlad had done of them together. Vlad was going to kill this toaster at this rate, and fuck Danny might let him. “Preferably not now though, Sweet Ancients”.

Vlad hits the toaster with a broom, “bad! No! You spit that out right now!”.

“It’s not a cat, Vlad”.

“Well then it should not behave like one”.

The toaster escapes from the broom, knocking over a fancy glass top table shaped like a jaguar.

Danny grumbling and slipping on some glass, “at least it can’t vomit a painting up like a fucking hairball!”.

“I would absolutely make you clean that up, consider it a lesson on responsibility”.

“I do enough chores at home, Vladdie!”.

“And how many times have I offered to come and help?”.

“And how many times have I told you the labs too dangerous?”. Danny glares at the toaster as it bounces up and down on a fancy keurig, “hey! Leave the superior appliance alone!”. The coffee machine blows up.

“Die coffeefee!”

Oh yeah, fuck this toaster majorly. It spits more toast at Danny as if hearing his mental insult.

Vlad rolls up his sleeves, hands glowing some and stalking ominous after the feral machine. Danny throwing a pillow at him and at the toaster, a couple cat toys going sailing as well; one goes right into the toaster even. “Don’t actually kill it! That’s a person! Unfortunately!”.

“Y’all couldn’t killy billy me even if ya tried anyway!”.

“Do you want to die!”.

Vlad frowns at Danny, “somethings do, in fact, deserve to die. This is one of them”.

“No!”.

Ah say hello to the one thing neither of them can ever actually agree upon. Meanwhile the fucking toaster jingles, cat toy must have had a bell on it then.

Maddie the cat comes out of nowhere and bodily tackles the toaster, batting at it wildly.

She desires her toy. It has her toy. It will now be her toy!

The toaster shrieks and waddles away on its ‘feet’ rapidly, Maddie the cat smacking the ground after it trying to attack its cord, butt wiggling and paws flailing.

Vlad looks incredibly proud, “atta girl, Maddie”. Hell, even Danny’s incredibly proud, what a good cat. Fluffy and ferocious.

Vlad absolutely punts the toaster into the corner of wall mounted oil candle when it tries to shoot Maddie the cat with toast. Snarling, “I will end you”. Unfortunately he’s not quick enough with the ecto-blast to even singe the thing. It was one fast toaster.

Danny putting his hands on his knees and wheezing, toaster assaulting the chandelier, “how, how are we, getting the runaround, by a, by a fucking, toaster?”.

Vlad huffing with his hands on his hips, “when is anything your father messes with easy to resolve?”.

“Never?”.

“That’s what I thought”.

“Fuck, you”.

“I love you too Daniel”.

“Ancients you are, a weird uncle”.

“And you’re a weird godson”.

Which was probably the only reason this mentorship shit even worked at all. Both of them were way too fucking weird. Everything around them was always way too fucking weird.

Case and point?

The toaster managed to unhook the chandelier, which has now crashed down to the ground in a hail of tiny expensive diamonds.

But Maddie the cat is on a mission. A mission that shall not be deterred by any mess or wonton destruction. She bites the toasters cord and flings it around wildly like it’s a mouse she’s playing with.

A mouse she will keep playing with until it dies and stops moving.

She flings it up in the air and catches it by the cord again, regardless of the toaster trying to avoid that. “MAKE THE BATTY’S CATTY STOP!”.

“No”.

“Naw”.

To be fair, it was kind of hilarious. And Vlad and Danny were telekinetically moving anything sharp out of Maddie the cat’s way so she wouldn’t get hurt while she had her fun.

“Maybe I like being a toaster! Ever think about that!”

Both Vlad and Danny give simultaneous deadpanned, “why?”’s.

Maddie the cat flops herself on the toaster body, its cord still in her mouth, as she purrs happily and swishes her tail around lazily. She doesn’t look like she has any intention of releasing the toaster.

So the two halfa’s walk over and stare down at the toaster. The toaster pipes up dejectedly, “okay maybe that was a lie. I am angry and touch starved”.

“Fuckin’ mood”.

“That I can understand, to a degree”.

Danny and Vlad eye each other before both chuckling fondly.

“…help?”.

Maddie the cat purrs loudly.

Vlad smirks down at the thing, “oh I don’t know about that, Maddie looks quite content were she is”.

“I concur”.

Vlad blinks and grins wide, “glad to see your vocabularies improved”.

“You hired me a tutor, how couldn’t it?”.

“Money well spent, then”.

“HELLO! You CUCKY DUCKY’S gonna HELP!”.

Vlad makes a face, “I think you’d benefit from a tutor as well”, straightening his suit, and huffing, “but very well, I suppose”.

Danny chuckling, “I’ll keep an eye on murder mittens and her prey”. More so for Maddie the cat’s well being and not the toaster from Satan’s asshole’s well being.

…

Vlad gets the thing Jack mailed him, he never threw out anything Daniel’s parents sent him, in case he one day needed to use it to prove their neglect to outright abuse in a court of law. Someday CPS was going to have a field day with the case of a lifetime and then some.

Danny glances at the… rubber duck? As Vlad comes back over. “What?”.

Vlad rubs his forehead, “I was confused as well. It actually gets worse, some how”. Vlad bops the things on the head, causing it to inflate into a twenty foot tall rubber duck.

The toaster snarls, “damn you, ducky fucky! Damn you!”.

Danny picks Maddie the cat up off of the toaster while making ‘I’m watching you’ motions with his free hand at the toaster.

The toaster, knowing it’s beat and fearing the cat, does not move.

Vlad picks up the massive duck and drops it on the toaster, it absorbs the toaster and promptly spits a teenager out of its beak. The teenager landing on his back in a crumbled heap.

Danny blinks, “what the fuck dad? I have way too many questions”. The teen coughs up a jingly ball cat toy and Maddie the cat launches herself out of Danny’s arm at the ball as it rolls away; fluffy legs trying to carry her faster than she can go.

The teen stands up, hunched over with his limbs all spread apart like he’s attempting to take a fighting pose while also being extremely grossed out.

Danny blinks, “sooooo, you gonna tell anyone?”. Vlad sighs in exasperation.

The teen slowly looks to Danny, who gives him a hopeful look. “Fucking why? I got turned into a toaster, accosted two deady teddy’s, beat up by a cat, and vomited out of a duck. Ain’t no one believing shit dick all”.

Danny chuckles, “that’s fair. Wes tries but everyone thinks he’s crazy and he ain’t claiming shit that weird”.

The teen raises an eyebrow at him, still having not moved any other part of him a single inch, “ya got another fucker who found out and is now trying to exposey woosey you? Ha! You suck”.

“Fuck you”.

Vlad ruffles Danny’s hair, “and my offer to sue the boy into silence or provide hush money still stands”.

“I’m kinda having fun with it honestly”.

“I’ve noticed, and support you terrorizing him entirely”.

The teen spits out a toast on to the floor, looks down and stares at it, then does it again. More toast flopping onto the floor, “huh. Yeah no. Fuck this shit I’m out”, and waddles back and forth out the front door like he still can’t move his legs.

…

Danny sighs slowly, “dad is so going to have to write an apology letter to that kid”.

Vlad rolls his eyes, “that man couldn’t be bothered to send me a single generic ‘get well soon’ card, you know he won’t do that”.

“Ugh”.

Danny absolutely has to get Jazz to write the apology letter, because Danny’s still to miffed about the toast assault to not come off as incredibly snide. Danny also collects as many toasts from Vlad’s place as he could and promptly dumped them on Wes in his sleep; he also finally mailed the box of muddy clothes.

The teen, meanwhile, absolutely spits toast at Jack the next time he sees the elder Fenton, it is absolutely caught on video. Said teen also turned out to be on the football team, which in typical Casper-high fashion, accepted him back on the team immediately. The Raven’s opponents were not prepared for the feral ex-toaster or his toast-related cruelty. Dash also later high-fived Danny, in the face, with a slice of toast as ‘gift’; Danny bit him without hesitation.

End.

PRompts: Danny's identity is found out in the funniest way possible. "Whatch'a got there?" "A smoothie" An unexpected person finds out Danny’s identity. (By unexpected I mean less his parents or Mr Lancer and more like, Star. Or Aunt Alicia. The more out there the better.) "I..I need your help." BadgerCereal Maybe Danny had been having a bit too much fun taunting Wes and even transforming in front of him. It was definitely coming back to bite him now…To be fair though, no one knew Desiree was right there. Maddie (the cat) saves the day Anything Badger Cereal (Vlad and Danny platonic father/son , mentor/apprentice )

[cherrieguroo]

being "violent" but scared of confrontation is such a combo. mentally im like "oh my god kill yourself you stupid asshole. your father should have pulled out. your mother should have aborted you. you are the most annoying cabbage-brained motherfucker to walk this earth. you have the personality of a deflated, vaguely dog shaped balloon. generic, overdone, not fun anymore. you are no longer in your peak and in fact you never were since you're so damn useless to humanity. when i kill you with my bare fucking hands and these scissors i will take all your undeserved belongings and give them to the less fortunate since im so much better than you. you are pathetic, worthless trash and i wish you nothing but despair, hijo de puta. you think you're cute, what you are is a fraud. youre so fucking cheap i could find you at a convenience store and your shelf would be fully stocked since you're so horribly boring i cant think of a single person who would actually enjoy your presence and wanna buy you. die die die." but then irl im just silent

[luceafarul-de-dimineata]

Asmodeus' trip to the human world - Part 2

Asmodeus was left alone in the human world, the only step back was that he had to write letters to Lucifer every now and again. Since demons can't lie, this was a full-proof plan from Lucifer's perspective. Asmodeus was dropped off in Wallachia at the age of a forest.

It was dark outside, the silence only broken by some barks in the distance. Asmodeus woke up with a mild headache and layed on the ground for a bit longer, taking in the unfamiliar scents and feelings. Abbadon had no grass, neither did Paradise Lost... now that he thinks about it, only Gehenna had any greenary. Asmodeus began to stroke the grass like the back of a family dog. The blades of grass between his digits sending shivers down his spine. He should order grass be planted all over Abbadon when he gets home. Suddently, he heard a melodic song coming from the forest, and when he turned to figure out what was going on, he spotted a group of women holding hands and dancing. Asmodeus thought himself lucky for so easily getting some wonderful women right next to where he spawned, but as Asmodeus got up, they stopped dancing.

"Oh, are you all so impressed by my beauty that you stopped your dancing. Please don't, I only wished to join you, ladies. But it's kind of dull dancing to no music at all, maybe I could get you to sing my name." Asmodeus tried using his charm ability, but the women glared him down. Without warning they started lunging at him and screeching. As Asmodeus was taken by surprised and tryed to run, he yelled "This is not what I ment! What was Lucifer on when he fell in love with you?"

Asmodeus ran towards the small village near-by and the women followed. The women's lust for blood went directly to Asmodeus' dick and he tried desprately to get it to stop. "This is not the time for fucking, dick! Think, Asmodeus, think, something that's very unappealing. Um... shit, I don't know! Lucifer! That's right, do these women know him?" Asmodeus turned to the women and screamed back, even louder than them "Voi stiti cine-i tata?! My daddy is Lucifer himself!"

The repulsion to Asmodeus' statement made the women stop chasing him. They were disgusted by his obcenity and seeming arousal by his father. They wouldn't dirty their hands with his blood.

Seeing himself alone, Asmodeus sighed in releaf before he realised that he was walking on gravel. Asmodeus hated the feeling of his feet touching anything, much less something as harsh as gravel. He started to flout like usual. Wherever he walked, the dogs would stop barking, leaving the town feeling dead. Bored, he decided to visit the biggest building in the village, the church. He heard from Lucifer that churches were made by humans to worship God, his true father. But even God was sometimes repulsed by Asmodeus, even when he did normal tasks like bending over or licking ice cream. Asmodeus never liked God, so seeing a place of worship for him felt out of place. Only Lucifer would build something like this. Humans really were a lot like Lucifer, always praying to a father that would never listen.

Asmodeus' sad reflection ended when a man with a lantern in hand went inside the building.

"Tulai! Sariti, un demon in biserica! Sculati pe Popa! Doriane, adu agheazma!" The man yelled to the quiet village, which slowly but surely started walking outside to see what was happening. Asmodeus' glowing red eyes and horn wheren't helping his case. He tried to speak with the people but none of them listened and called the priest on him. The priest started spraying Asmodeus with scented water, which was one of his biggest icks. The feeling of small dropplets of water slithering down his skin, the scent of lavander overpowering his senses. He covered his ears and screamed, running away once more from the priest. Everyone was gawking at his missery, but the overstimulation of his senses was to overpowering for him to care about humiliation. They chased him two towns over before Asmodeus once more ran into the forest where he proceeded to cry and screech like a dying animal from the unpleasant feelings.

[halliescomut]

Naughty Babe Ramble

There's gonna be spoilers up to episode 4...just so you're aware.

I've been really stuck thinking about this past episode and sort of where we are about half-way through. I know for a lot of people, Naughty Babe is just silly fun, and there's also plenty who just wave it off as campy semi-BS. And while the show is certainly set up to be more silly than serious, I really have been engrossed by the new glimpses we've gotten into Yi and Diao now that they're at the center.

I loved them as a couple in the Cutie Pie series, though I had some concerns, mostly things that I've been able to abandon now that we've gotten a bit more insight into Yi's mind specifically. Cutie Pie is very much Kuea's perspective, and therefore pretty knowledgeable of Diao's personality, but less so of Yi.

And while I was somewhat suspicious of what we were going to see after the trailers, knowing about the whole amnesia thing, I'm actually pretty satisfied overall. Both because the amnesia didn't last for the whole season, but also because they clearly recognize that Diao knows Yi well enough to figure out he's lying. Like I do agree that both Lian and his dad would figure it out first, just because Yi doesn't hide so much from them, but I was concerned they would set Diao up to look a bit like an imbecile, and he is so not.

I'm gonna start by talking about Diao, mostly because he's my favorite, but also because if we recognize that this show is mostly Yi's perspective, then I'm so happy they're still showing Diao as feisty, and cute. He's still shown as a little shy, but I think he's definitely guarded around Yi, especially right in this time, so it makes sense, that he sort of reads it that way. One of my favorite things about Diao in Cutie Pie was that he was clearly just as strong-willed and self-aware as Kuea, but where Kuea is more brash, Diao is just a tad softer. But his softness isn't weakness (I fucking hate when people think that) and we're continually given glimpses of his strength, both mentally and physically.

His practice and teaching of Taekwondo is clearly part of that, it's a martial arts style that has a heavy focus on meditation and mindfulness, but also philosophy of how you should behave as a citizen of humanity. It's also listed often as a potentially good option for self-defense in those that are of smaller stature (which Diao is). It's a martial art that I think is well-matched to the character, in that it's both strong and elegant, with a focus on moral character.

The series so far shows Diao as mainly admirable...which is great, but it also speaks to what Diao is so frustrated by. He's not a piece of art, he doesn't want to be set on a pedestal and admired, he wants to be loved. He's been clear in his passion to Yi in the past, but it's Yi's that's stuck in his own head about what if's and so they aren't able to progress. And so now we're 3 years in the future, and Diao's wondering if he read everything all wrong.

So moving on to hia Yi...I know you're trying, but god, do I wish that you would just get it together. I understand that the root of his behavior is all fear. He's afraid that the past coming to light, and his connection to Diao's trauma will cause DIao to hate him...and dude...if you pulled your head out of your ass and actually took in the person that Diao has become you'd see that it would never happen. I know he's drowning in the guilt of what happened with the tiger/puma/dog/jackalope (depending on when and where the story's being told)...but if you think Diao would learn that and not recognize that you were a 15 year old child who made a horrible mistake??? Diao has so much empathy, and Yi knows that, but he's still can't comprehend that that empathy also extends to him for some reason.

As flawed as the man is, and honestly as poorly as he sees himself sometimes, though usually glossed over by the sheen of narcissism, he can be such a good man. In all of this universe, I've always been a bit meh on Max's acting, I'll be honest. He's fine, but I've always felt like because his character was so staid that I wasn't engaged, especially when Zee and Nunew and Nat were given so much more expression and emotion. But this last couple of episodes really, but especially number four, he has really been doing some great work.

He's both solidified a lot of aspects of the character as well as bringing new depth. The nightmares talk and panic attack scene were really so good. Him just laying there as Diao talks about his nightmares and his eyes are just full of so many different emotions. and then when the panic attack really kicks in, his overall concern is not disturbing Diao. You don't have to have an internal monologue to know exactly where this panic attack comes from, and it's portrayed really well in my opinion. Of course everyone's experience will differ, but my sister has an anxiety disorder, and really her feelings as she's described them and her physical condition as I've watched her experience these attacks...they match up pretty well.

In a lot of ways I do feel like we are seeing a little bit of the same character arc for the couple here that we saw for Lian and Kuea in Cutie Pie, with both Lian and Yi afraid that somehow they're being selfish in wanting their relationships with Kuea and Diao respectively. I think it's something that stems from their age difference, this knowing that there is a lot of opportunity out there for them, and are they sort of clipping their wings? It's a bit different for Kuea and Diao, but it does boil down to both wanting to be truly seen for who they are. For Kuea it was about reconciling his 'true self' and knowing that Lian loved him still. With Diao, I think it's about being seen as himself, but also being seen as someone worthy of being a true partner to Yi, to stand beside him. I think Yi's tendency to coddle him and lie to him has caused him to assume that Yi doesn't believe he's capable of handling the truth. And in a bit of a match to Kuea, since they've always been these sort of biddable, polite people (which is based around the cultural expectations especially in relation to their age difference), will there still be love and affection if they're assertive of their own needs/desires? For Kuea the answer was clearly yes, which Diao knows, but I think Lian was also a lot easier to read for Diao than Yi. It's also complicated by the fact that Diao is also afraid of what he might see, and so I think he chooses not to.

My last little part isn't really about character, but more about how wildly uncomfortable I was watching the interactions between Diao's family and Yi and Diao. It was both awkward and insanely infuriating. I felt so insulted on Yi's behalf, watching this family treat him like little more than an open wallet. And don't even get me started on Diao, the way I know he was so embarrassed by their behavior, not just because it's so icky, but also because it makes him wonder "Does hia Yi think that I'm in this for his money??" I also kind of hated it because hia Yi clearly values family, and I know for certain that he's glad that his own father has such strong love and affection for Diao, to not be seen equally by Diao's family probably really hurts.

(I'm sorry this was such a ramble, but I have a lot of random feelings about the show.)

[elrondhalfelven]

Rocket for the ask game, please!

1. favorite thing about them

how he genuinely is quite sensitive to the needs of his friends - he’s hell when dealing with strangers, and maybe isn’t the best at reading the room, but he DOES care. he’ll be kicking and screaming about it and denying it but if something is not right he’s not one to sit by and ignore the problem

2. least favorite thing about them

it probably ties into the first thing in that just cause he recognises a problem it doesn’t mean he knows the right way to go about fixing it. try telling him that though. i’ve noticed a lot over the years (and obviously different writers too so this is all subjective) that rocket’s version of arguing back tends to hinge on being louder than the other person and getting the last word. he needs to learn to shut the fuck up sometimes (affectionate). (wouldn’t be him if he wasn’t like this though! it shouldn’t change!)

that being said, kind of a tangent, I dislike it when some writers choose rocket arguing back as just him being an asshole. i haven’t played the telltale game in a long time, but i seem to remember their rocket falling into this trap. sometimes he would be contrary just cause…. the writers called for it i guess? so he came across as a dick for no reason. eidos rocket meanwhile was kind of a dick but always a dick who was trying to make a point and had legitimate quibbles. for his two page appearance in star-lord grounded rocket also blew up at peter - but had objectively good reasons to! and was willing to listen when pete met him on his level.

so long story short - he’ll snark back, might blow his top a bit but in his mind he always has his reasons and when you look at them they’re mostly legit from his perspective.

a lot of writers unfortunately just make him angry for no reason and it’s really, really, REALLY annoying /rantover

3. favorite line

rocket probably makes me laugh the most out of any character he has so many ridiculous lines there’s too many to count. “that’s how we do things in the raccooniverse”lmfao. that being said I’ve always liked the dialogue between him and Pete at the end of vol. 2. Rocket’s hardly an optimist but it kind of ties into my answer for 1. He knows Peter is beating himself up and when Peter tentatively reaches out, Rocket knows what he needs to hear. Hell, Rocket himself probably also needs to tell himself but they did good!

Peter: This guarding the galaxy thing sure comes at a price.

Rocket: You knew that when you put this team together, Pete.

Peter: Yeah… but Adam? Phyla? The cosmos will be a poorer place without them.

Rocket: What about Mantis? The Major? Gamora? God help me, even that damn dog. We thought they were dead. Life and death. The trick is to keep the books balanced.

4. brOTP

groot obviously. Pete.

5. OTP

none

6. nOTP

none

7. random headcanon

he and gamora are actually closer than you’d suspect - he quite often will help her deal with her implants if they’re becoming painful, or even take out ones she doesn’t need anymore. raccoons having weirdly small human hands comes in handy (ha!) for that. she’s surprised at first - he’s more capable of serious conversation than she initially thought - they have way more in common than both of them originally thought. he knows all too well how painful it is when your implants start bugging out, but he didn’t expect one of the most famous assassins in the universe, who should by all means have the best, to be almost as cobbled together as him.

it’s sad, though neither would admit that, but it makes the two of them feel less alone.

8. unpopular opinion

i feel like a lot of this is just wider MCU fandomy stuff that i’m not part of but, like i said, generally rocket ISN’T just an asshole for no reason.

9. song I associate with him

Mr Roboto by Styx

10. favorite picture of them

I wish i had a screencap of that selfie that he took of him and the team that’s in pete’s room in the eidos gotg game because it’s too cute. that one.

[charlesdesvoeux]

terror rewatch time!!! i'll be using this post to comment on ep. 9 "the c the c the open c" block the tag terrorwatch2 if you'd like :-)

sophia almost dissociating at certain points and lady jane having tears in her eyes by the end of the scene...

also interesting to highlight that, you know, this is a woman doing something very public and refusing to stay within the confines of the private sphere even if this work/advocacy is in benefit of her husband making it perhaps less "improper" for her to step into the public sphere. and of course she's doing it bc the admiralty won't.

tom hartnell 🥰🥰🥰

and one of the saddest things is that crozier did eventually become the captain he needed to be. but it was just too fucking late.

"more than god loves them" indeed! i mean. it didn't change anything. it didn't save anyone. but the love was there.

someone already said that but yeah it's interesting how hickey wearing irving's coat makes hodge speak to him as an equal in a way he probably wouldn't before. all this rank shit is just performance, it's just wearing the right clothes.

the denial. "this shot will murder me yet" "if it doesn't it'll make that story you like even longer to tell" and it's like. so delusional. jfj at this point is a living dead man. but crozier can't face that yet. "there's time, there's time". but james knows.

interesting highlight of the class divide- hodge, an upper class British man, thinks of the probably very nice wedding he attended which served a ham from Virginia. Hickey thinks about what could be in the tins, behind the polite and vague "veal cutlet tomata"- pieces of horse? a street dog? things he maybe even saw people eating in the squalor of victorian cities

hickey voice-over priming them for cannibalism over a shot of billy going to goodsir.....

the second to last hickeygibson scene, oh my god. the way there's genuine tenderness, the way hickey truly tries to comfort him, and I do think I saw his eyes watering. re: "can he still haul?" I'm reminded of the rat wedding scene. the way there's both genuine love but also a transactional element. but the existence of one doesn't negate the existence of the other. so yeah of course there are practical considerations in his decision to kill him. but there's also the idea that this is a mercy.

also the way hickey allows himself to be very tender with billy and not giving a fuck that goodsir is there and could infer that they are lovers- bc. "civilization" is not a thing here. the bullshit victorian idea of propriety is not a thing here. they're on death's door, who gives a fuck if they're buggerers? (is it buggerer ou bugger. i don't remember)

I love how ANGRY hickey looks at goodsir once he's performing the killing of billy. like. "this is our moment. this is the last moment I'll share with the man I love. you are a intruder. and you think I'm a monster. but I'm not. I'm doing this out of love" and I absolutely get why goodsir had to be present but sometimes I also wish he wasn't??? so we could get maybe a more genuine depiction of their relationship??? like. cornelius holding him tenderly as life flows out of him. whispering sweet nothings in an attempt at comfort. maybe even fucking saying "billy, I love you", and these being the last words he ever hears.

the "orphans that we are" scene.... it's like. the survival instinct kicks in to the point that yes, you will want to abandon your friends because you want to LIVE. but this also means forsaking something of your humanity and crozier just. just can't allow that. but the survival instinct leading to such extremes is also a very human thing, too. and God how HEARTBROKEN little looks in this scene. matthew mcnulty the actor that you are.

there are very few scenes that we get from an inuit perspective in the series so the ones we do get are very very important in terms of illuminating the themes of the show. and of course nive nielsen is just outstanding

bridgens' heartbreak in the jfj death scene..... both bc he's genuinely fond of him and bc he knows that this will probably happen to henry too.

francis just raising his head in desperation and weeping once blanky proposes his plan. "i will not say goodbye to 2 friends in one day". "we both know what's coming for me now. at least love me enough to admit it". the idea that their deaths have to be faced, when just earlier he was desperately running away from the reality of james' state...

death is imminent and they hug, they hug like the old friends that they are, they touch one another openly and lovingly. they allow themselves to be human.

"john, can we sleep?" and I started crying. and the way he carries him so tenderly to the boat- yeah, everyone's watching, so what? who the fuck cares. we're dying buddy. and how after henry is in the boat jopson looks away, always attuned to what other people need, always discreet.

not that hickey wasn't crazy before but. i think billy's death is what tips him from "dangerous narcissist" into "full on god delusions"

"if I'm reading right your accent, Mr. Hickey, you grew up in a home where you would have to use every part of any meat or fowl your mam could procure" now I think this really pierces into him because- that was E.C. in his mind cornelius hickey never had to do that, but E.C. did. and he cannot be reminded of what he used to be- what he still is, really- but he carries it with him, how could he not? even on the other end of the world- someone knows E.C.

"don't indulge your morals over your practicals" if that isn't hickey's motto.

and sol at this point just. a broken fucking shell of a man. reduced to hickey's dog.

the way he wore the ring to the end. to the very end.

the way each of them look as they're eating billy!!!! sol very obviously disturbed, troubled, but also hungry. des voeux cold, calm and pragmatic. hickey with a strange sort of curiosity on his face, chewing slowly, almost savoring the last time he'll have his lover's flesh within his mouth.

hickey sits at the head of the table. hodge sits away, china in hand, trying to pretend this is normal and in a very clear way trying to maintain rank.

i think there's an interesting contrast to be found here with des voeux. he wasn't a lieutenant yet, but he was in the "officer track" so to speak- hierarchically high above a caulkers mate like hickey or a marine like tozer; irl des voeux was promoted to lieutenant in absentia while they were lost. but he absolutely realizes that right here right now rank does not fucking matter, and so he makes no attempt to still perform within the confines of what an officer is supposed to be.

hodge's monologue, I mean. here's how christos lawton can still win an emmy

THE SOL AND HICKEY SCENE

the way hickey offers him a smoke and he declines and hickey is like uh that's odd. the way he calls him "cornelius"- were he and billy the only ones to call him cornelius??? and his plan... it's like. to him it's still about survival and hickey. well. to him it's about becoming a literal fucking god.

the way he uses sol's name...... and "that's a queer melody for a marine" manipulating his devotion to what it means to be a marine for his own ends... when sol confesses what he saw and then tries to steel himself and go back to strategy...... THE TOUCH HOW DESPERATE SOL LOOKS TO BE TOUCHED

"do we need permission from him?" "no" except like. i think sol is in so deep that he does feel like he needs permission. "we'll do what we have to do, tommy, but we'll do it tomorrow" and the look of devastation on Tommy's face. "this is not sol tozer. not the sol tozer i knew, admired, and loved. and yet- i still know him, admire him, and love him".

hartnell :-((( bridgens :-(((

[loved2]

Today marks 4 years since my mother passed. Haha so cliche but it truly feels just like yesterday. Everything has changed and yet i can’t remember a time it didn’t feel like this. I don’t know who i was before this. I know who i am now tho, luckily. This month has been so transformative. I haven’t felt this good since August. Everything after that was either depressive + burnt out or fun but chaotic. Feb brought me balance and finally some peace. I did a lot of little things this month instead of my usual Big Productive Energy and it has truly made me feel content. I don’t feel like i’m fighting for anything anymore. I just am. And god i have been waiting for this feeling for so long. I also finally am ready to relaunch my main business again and i am so excited to see how it goes. I’m feeling very secure & calm. I also found some love.. it’s too early to speak on it but it has made my days far more beautiful. Been journaling & reading more than usual and i love it. I’ve been very present. I remember almost everything that happened. This feels so good. I wish i could feel this way more often.. hoping i will. Also did a lot of inner work and i have never felt more safe in my body + absolutely unfazed by anything physical like who gives a fuck about this shit anyway. Idk how to explain it but in the simplest terms, i finally feel spiritual again. Yknow when everything seems out of alignment or life is just very stagnant and you’re just looking for something revolutionary to happen or a full circle moment to gain some momentum again and just a brief “oh.. god does exist” yeah.. i finally had my moment lol. Beyond grateful. Hoping and praying for March to be beautiful. 4 years ago and last year March were the absolute worst for me. 369 haha lets hope thats why it was so fucked. 4 years ago my mother passed unexpectedly and last year my (ex)bestie moved across the globe and 2 days later i got robbed at gunpoint in my home and lost everything including everything i inherited from my mother, which was a lot to say the least. Absolutely devasting but life goes on i guess. Reflecting on this time last year i don’t think i could care any less about material things than i already did. Like i adore all of this but what is it really. But oh well i will continue to have a beautiful human experience whenever i can so yes i still deeply value these things but also who cares you know. This is also the first time in a year that i don’t have lashes, biab, toe ext & my hair done for longer than a month and i finally know what i truly look like again & feel comfortable in my skin. Lots of cooking & baking too thats when i know i’m in love lmaooo yikes. This new month also marks a year that i’ve had my little baby angel Jupiter (my dog) and life has been beautiful ever since and alsooo my little (FIRST) niece is turning 1 on the 5th eeekkk and we’re having an out of town party so excited. N e way wishing you all a beautiful, fruitful March love youuu 🤍

[nascenterror]

Finally at a very traditional church and not sure how I feel about it because they said don't be a seductress.

And when I was sexually active it was the the only time in my life I received any "intimacy". I don't... I can feel how fucking empty I am sometimes and it's a fun reminder that I was neglected and mistreated and I have to make up for it lol. Even though, I don't know how to.

I'll do my best. I hoped religion could help fill that hole but sometimes it feels as if it's packing on more rules and setting me up for dashed hopes. I know God is real. But I don't know if God's plan includes me having meaningful human connection or love or not constantly dealing with emotional abuse and people lying about me. I desperately want to heal. To get a new start with my wrecked reputation but that is not guaranteed.

The pastor mentioned last Sunday looking to God to get what we want(as a bad thing) and I'll be honest that's why I turned to Christianity. I hope(d?)God would give me a job or someway to leave my current living situation. That and it's familiar. It reminds me of my childhood and Sunday school and being less afraid and less lonely. Of stories about justice and wrongs being righted and queens saving the day. But that's not present-day reality. Even the Bible admits that you may be long gone before justice is exacted. In this day and age when most people don't care about their lineage or legacy... is that really justice? If you believe it has to be enough.

It has to be enough that I have enough to live and I have God. Like any employer or master I'm sure They don't want to want to watch folks be miserable while working for them. But it's also frustrating because I don't need the reward of God or heaven to be kind and honest, to apologize and forgive others and repent when I wrong someone. Hell I've done that at my most miserable and will continue to do so. The draw is supposed to be getting into heaven. (It's really meant to be God's glory but let's be honest how many will say that when asked about why they worship?) But even that is reserved for the best of the best. I know I won't be going. I'm sure there's some sin I missed. that I'm missing.

I hate to say it but my big question is what's in it for me? Not going to Hell or Limbo? Not being punished? I'm already being punished. I can't know if it's worse but this is pretty bad. There are plenty of times I wished just not to be here fully aware I don't know what if anything comes after death. Eternal torment... can't be as bad as being unloved or despised by everyone around you. All I've known(excluding when I deluded myself) is the torment of being treated like a stray dog begging for scraps. Hell could just be more of this. That's not a threat it's my life. I'd rather be burnt alive than continue like this for much longer so if Hell is worse than this I still doubt it could be that bad. I doubt I want to be in heaven with the people who were good so other's would like them or they'd be popular. Those are typically the worst types to be around but do they get into heaven? Yea they do. So how great is heaven if they're there? If heaven is endless sermons and gaudy gold and jewels and McMansions? The only upside I see is no more periods lol. But what is pleasure without pain? Monotony? I guess I'm asking. What is the upside to worshiping God here on earth?

[vampiromano]

Ew. Feelings

idk man. how valid is being upset i fight and idiot if you married an idiot and then had a kid who turned out like said idiot. kinda your fault. kinda on you for being a stupid horny adult. kinda on you for having a kid you do not know how to raise. kinda on you for expecting me to bow down to a guy who hurts my dog then acts like he didn't.

you and the idiot keep forcing me into having this conversation as if anything you say will change my mind. I know I'll never change yours so I leave it be and I try to be civil and I try to let it go and it's only every once in a while that I can't so why are you so adamant on talking about it again. why do you insist on having me listen to you ramble about how much of an idiot I am. why do you expect me not to repeat my points when you do. why you insist on repeating this shouting match over and over again like we're characters in a fucking play. as if I will agree this time. as if you will listen this time. as if you respect me. as if either of us isn't too stubborn to let someone who hurt us win.

(though i do think it's worse that you hurt me. not because you're stronger or because I'm not downright mean. you taught me that. but because I was weaker when you first did. why am I the one who has to say sorry if you never have?) (i know why you think i should. it's another one of those things we will never agree on.) (i simply don't think I owe you absolute submission just because you take care of me. I owe you respect, yes, but respect does not mean blind obedience and accepting the worst of you when it's directed at me.) (you do think respect means this.)

my point: you married an idiot. he's gonna keep on being an idiot and I'm gonna keep on treating him like one whenever he takes it out on someone weaker than him, because I'm stubborn like you but with more of a backbone against people in charge and far less of a wish to reach old age. you will continue to fail changing him or me, because he's rageful like I am and I'm stubborn like you are, and I treat others like they treat me, remember? it's you who taught me self-respect. but you do not know that it applies to you, too.

I will never allow you or the idiot to escape your mistakes so long as you keep making them despite my incessant asking of your changing them. I will not let you escape your mistakes because I am your son and that's basically a son's job. a son you raise is a manifestation of your best and your worst. but I will not push it if you don't. despite everything, I like the peace. I tolerate the peace.

yet the idiot keeps pushing it. keeps hurting my dogs and refusing to back down and refusing to understand. and you love the idiot so you defend him, or you understand him, or you simply refuse to try.

I am not a pushover here or anywhere. I am cursed with a desire for superiors to respect their inferiors and I am cursed with stubbornness like my mother's and a rage like my father's.

so I push back, because I too am an idiot.

(but I do not plan to have kids.) (i know what parents like me do to their kids.) (you, too, know what parents like you do to your kids.) ((why did you two have kids?))

if what you want is peace, the best you can hope for is I kill myself. (I know you won't change your mind. I won't even try.) but you do not want me to kill myself. I'm not sure I want to kill myself, either. I am too stubborn for that. too rageful for that. too alive for that.

so the best you can hope for is learning to fucking cope. if I can, being rageful, being stubborn, being ill in a way I think you must be, too, because we're parent and child, why can't you?

(you don't want to cope. you want me to submit.)

(God could come from the fucking heavens with an angelic army and I would still go down screaming then.) (why would i then submit to you?) (two idiots. two creators. two humans with nothing better to do.)

(you too taught me not to let people stomp all over me.)

(you are people too.)

I did not force you to marry an idiot. I did not force you to fuck an idiot. i did not force you to have a kid.

you did force me to be born here. you did force me to stay alive for long enough to value it. you did condemn me to having self-respect and the rage of an idiot.

you will now have to reap what you sew.

(yet you will insist it is my duty to bend myself over a thousand times for your and the idiot's satisfaction.) (I won't ask why anymore. i have learned.)

(it is because you see me as lesser. it is because your parents saw you as lesser and you just up and took it. it is because your boss sees you as lesser and part of you agrees.)

(but I am still not you.)

(you taught me a bit too well what self-respect was.)

you sew this: i do not think myself lesser than anyone. I do not think myself better than anyone. not really, even if I'll jest. because you taught me that. you taught me to respect.

but you do not respect me, and you think because I think you as valuable as I, I must be disrespecting this bond you've made in your mind. and so my self-respect irks you. but it's not me who's wrong for valuing myself. it's not me who's bad when I ask to be treated well. when I ask my dogs to be treated well.

I'm sorry you don't respect yourself in the face of your elders, your superiors, your brethren with more authority than you.

but it is not my fault.

i was not the one who fucked you into existence. I was not the one who made the choice to marry an idiot. I am simply the byproduct of the life you chose. which is often good. but sometimes you just have to understand that when you teach a kid to value themselves and make themselves heard when they feel disrespected, this will too apply to you, and the disrespectful idiot you chose to marry so many years ago.

I am your kid, but I am not your toy, and you may be my elder but you are not better for it.

we are the same.

that idiot, too, is the same as me.

and until you don't get that, or until you don't let it rest, there will not be peace.

I'm sorry you think I hurt you today by having a fight with the other idiot living in the house. I'm sorry you feel like I did something wrong.

(again, I say, I am no better than you.)

(i too can't in good conscience say sorry to a person I think is in the wrong.)

(this might be why we'll never truly get along, after all.)

(it is because you are my mother, and he is my father, and I am your son.)