#goodbye i felt motivated after what felt like forever

[cherubispunk]

CHERUB (PART III) - Dealer!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

summary: the devil has a funny habit of making you want your own suffering.

a note from Lucy: Well, this is it folks. The third and final instalment of the unholy trinity that is cherub. The fic that i had no idea would get this amount of traction. The fic that gave me my username, blog theme, the majority of my mutuals and the freedom to explore more taboo areas of writing that I never felt comfortable with doing before. I just wanted to thank you all for all the kind words you’ve shared with me. Comments, reblogs, messages, they all mean the utter world. But i also want to specifically thank @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin who was such a huge help for motivation when wrting each of these. She's been there since the first day of cherub and always let me obsess over dealer!joel with her. Ange, i love you baby. Out of all my fandom experiences, this has definitely been one of the best. I know this sounds a lot like a goodbye completely, but it's not i swear! I just never really knew where this was going, but I think this is a pretty good way to end the series and I hope you agree too. Part of me isn't ready to let go after such a short run, but I honestly have no idea where to go from here so I think I did it as much justice as I could. Regardless, Cherub and Dealer!Joel will forever have a place in my heart all thanks to you lovely lot! Your love means the world to me and you are all so easy to share this with, you've given me an environment to flourish creatively and I'm eternally grateful for that. I wish you all the love, hugs, kisses, and angel wishes in the world! 

playlist 

wc: 5548 Warnings: 18+ MDNI! DARK CONTENT! Unedited for now, no outbreak, no use of y/n but joel calls the reader ‘Cherub’, plot? what plot? we all know we're here for the porn anyway, bombastic age gap (reader is in her early 20’s and Joel is in his late 50s), gore imagry, religious imagry, Smut, very dubcon in theory but both want it bad, grafic smut, P in V sex (unprotected — pleaseee don’t do tis irl i beg of you), teasing, sort of edging? (idk what to call it but he doesnt fuck you until you beg for it lol). nipple play, biting biting biting!!!!!, references to domestic violence, use of pet names, manipulative! joel, stupid stupid cherub, stockholm syndrome, oral (f receiving), cum eating, pussy slapping, Joel being foul mouthed, cursing, dirty talk, overstimulation. Again, some of the most animalistic, disgustingly wretched and vile vile vile porn I have written thus far…with so little plot that this earned me my place in hell, i have my own circle now. Big Dick Joel Miller comes as his own warning.

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The danger didn't lie in his hands. It didn't sit in his closed first to be suffocated. Choked out until the life of it was compressed. Until its face was blue, then purple and its eyes were bloodshot and streaked with red. The danger lay in your heart. And it thrived off the beating.

What is ‘it’, you ask? Mania.

The Greeks had it nailed down when they split love seven different ways. To the crucifix through its punctured and bleeding palms. All equal, but different. They understood that one love is different to the other. That love can be either obsession, or lingering in the quiet parts of a person's mind. You cannot hold up a mirror to one and deceive into believing it is another. No matter how sweet the lie seeps into the ear. They don't work that way. You were not Lucifer, you had no forked tongue. And your mania wasn't Eve. There was no apple to devour. Only the strong arm of Joel Miller to cling to like a noose.

Some love passionately. Find it in the scathing friction of flesh upon flesh. The heat two bodies make only in sex. You were no body anymore. Merely a corpse for him to dig up and breathe life into whenever he needed relief. So it was not Eros. Some love playfully. In the back and forth of a conversation that makes the mind and heart float in the clouds among the soul. Entwine them together until you are too sedated to know the difference between the three pillars of personal holy trinity. There was nothing lighthearted about Joel Miller. So there was no Ludus. Affection. The subtle, it-is-there-even-when-it-is-not weight of lovers hand in lovers hand. Joel clutched your throat with his heavy hand. He didn't lace your fingers in his like tapestry threads. And he was anything but friendly. So it could never be Philia. He was not unconditional. Familial. Constant. Committed. Long lasting. Selfless. He crept in through the backdoor and took. Then slipped back out. So the thick blood red line was drawn through Storge. Agape. Pragma. The love you had was not for yourself. Without him you hated yourself. Hated how you didn’t feel needed. Or wanted. So Philautia was buried six feet under hot earth, the final nail in the coffin that was lowered into the rotting, thick-with-decaying-mulch, stenching ground. By none other than Mania.

This was something you came to realise as you stumbled from his truck back to your room. His come dribbling down your leg. Luke asleep on the sofa. Months passed of the same thing. He’d take you home from work, only letting you go once he'd had his fill. Played out the sick fantasy from mind to matter, let it bleed through his fingers into fruition. You let it happen for mania. It was the thing inside you that kept you going. Before you thought mania fed off your heartbeat. But now you realised mania fed your heartbeat. The kick it got every second fired the next muted pulse. That's what kept it alive. Energy for energy. You were never one to bite the hand that feeds. That’s a sinner's duty.

—

The usual sight of Luke slumped in his lazy boy, guzzling beer was what you expected. The liquor once again swigged past his lips and dribbling down his stubbled chin. Wiry greying hair greasy on his head, balding. Thinning. Residue from a line on the coffee table. You were never tempted by it before. And you were determined never be a Angel dust statistic like him.

Instead, you opened the flimsy door of your trailer to see him hunched over a small collapsible table. His hand running over his sunken eyes, dragging purple eye bags down with his fingertips in shame. Cards in his other. It had your breath catching in your throat like a hare in a wire snare trap. This time around the small collapsible round table. Cards in his hand. And two other men shared a knowing glance and a grim smile of satisfaction. Him.

Joel Miller.

The tension was thicker than molasses in the room. You only wished it was as sweet. You swallowed it down thickly. It stretched your throat. You watched in morbid fascination when he lay his hand on the table in a fan for all to horror at, a sly smirk slithering over his lips and curling the one corner of it up like a scorpion's tail.

“Full house.”

“Fuck!” And Luke’s hand slapped the tabletop as he folded.

The door clicked. All three looked up to see you. Luke, Joel, and the man who held a familiar resemblance to your own personal devil. With eyes on you, you felt more like that hare in the snare than ever. Clapping eyes on the hungry wolf as mutton dripped bloody from his sneer. Cruel and hungry. You imagined him as that wolf, hyde thick and bristled under your soft fingers as he led you to some deep, dark, thorny place. A place only lit by the eyes of owls who observed while he had his way with you. Ripped your stockings to get to sweet fruit.

“Great, the cunt is home.” Luke spat to the room but you, looking over the table again as he bit his thumb nervously to the edge of the hangnail. “Get me a beer.” Your nostrils flared in defiance at his demand, knuckles pale as fingers furled into a fist. An army of goosebumps had stood to attention all along your arms and the back of your neck. A shiver shattering down your spine. Your heart had enough of its prison of your ribcage in your anger, ramming into it over and over in a frantic hammering. And when that wasn't enough, you felt it in your throat. Among the tightening of your airways. “You hear me girl?” He asked, looking at you. He stood, chair scraping against the floor and you staggered back to the point your shoulderblades hit the door. While he was a thin, wiry man, he had a vicious backhand that stung. Like a vengeful aftertaste. “Y’need me to beat some sense inta ya girl, huh?!” You dared to spare a glance at Joel who was too busy collecting his winnings. You soon to be among them.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, looking to the floor and cowering off to the kitchen to get him his beer.

“Y’short, Luke.” You heard from the doorway, straining to hear the tail end of the conversation. Something about your uncle having it by monday. And then Joel telling him he shouldn’t raise a bet he doesn't have the dough to cover.

It took a second to catch your breath. Tears strung in your eyes and your chest threatened to split in two. Your sternum felt like it was cracking down the middle into clean halves under the weight of your chest. A hand clasped over your quivering lips to bite back a horrible sob and muffle it. Only your palm could know you were crying miserably. So you took a beer from the fridge, heard the hiss as the lid gave way and popped off. It clattered to the linoleum and you bared your teeth at the grating sound, picking it up and tossing it in the bin.

“Here.” You mumbled, placing it unceremoniously on the table in front of Luke.

“Y’got any spare cash on you, girl?” Luke asked, beady eyes staring you down as he raised the bottle to his lips and took a drink. You grimaced inwardly at the sight of his yellow teeth when he made a satisfied sigh.

“No.”

Joel’s brow raised. You should know by now not to lie to a man who can read you like a book. That's the thing about narcissists. They have a way of being able to understand you like a one word sentence on paper. A quick glance and you’re unravelling with concealed meaning and connotation.

“C’mon, Cherub…gotta have something from workin’ this late in that diner of yours…” You dared to challenge Joel with a look. A look that retreated soon after the advance of the glare of his eye. The same glare of the hungry wolf. Of the cheated man. It was unkind, and unyielding, and did not hold mercy upon the souls of the enthralled, the damned, or the harrowed. You might try to cross through the sentence, or turn the page. Or shut the book entirely. But the truth is still the truth even when you chose not to look. This was the man that knew your mind. Knew your body. And coaxed his will out of you each time. His word was all it took to cave, so you took the folded bills from your apron, flicking through them with a bitten back scowl,

“How much does he owe you?” Joel smiled with amusement, counting through his winnings to see what was short.

“Ninety-eight.”

‘What?” you asked, eyes wide, hurt. Disheartened. Fingers stilling halfway through the small stack. And Joel smirked.

“You heard me, Cherub.”

“Give Joel his money.” Luke warned.

“But it’s not his money! And it’s not yours to give!” You tried, and saw the warning tick of your uncle's narrow jaw. It was always set on edge before he threw a hand. Cast a palm across your cheek in a brandishing. It had you cowering. Relenting. Tossing the money in front of him. If it fell to the floor in its flurry he could pick it up and grovel about it. But Joel never grovelled. Only relished. Then reminded Luke of the money he still owed for the drugs.

And you walked back to the kitchen, biting into your lip again. With the devil and your demon in the next room over, you were sure this could be hell. A buzz filled your ears. Like the constant thrum of flies over roadkill. In festering flesh wounds where broken white of bone poked through gaping, bleeding holes. Blood matted in the hyde of the animal helpless and scattered across the road. A leg here, smashed teeth there. You were the roadkill. Joel was at the wheel of that which mowed you down. Luke was howling in the passenger side.

His boots thumped clumsily over the linoleum and he let out a huff through his nose while he adjusted his low slung jeans in the doorway.

“Cherub?” He asked, clearing his throat huskily — a consequence of the smokes he used religiously. You stood with your back to him, palms flat to the countertop and head hung low to fight the sting of tears simmering from within.

“He threatened to hit me.” You whispered, not turning to face him. If you mattered his ears would strain to meet you halfway. “And you did nothing.”

“Come on, Cherub…don't be like that.” he sighed, and you imagined him pinching the bridge of his hooked nose.

“He took my money. You took my money. How am I gonna get out of here without it?” You croaked, your tired eyes seeing faces of gaping mouths and slate black eyes in the speckled linoleum of the counter.

No reply came from the door. And when you turned it was empty. He had left. The other man had left. The tv was on again with the scream of a woman murdered. And Luke fell asleep in his lazy boy.

—

Another day, another shift. And more horror ensued. At first, what set the nerves thrumming was there was no sign of Luke. His truck was gone from its spot. No drunk slumped on the worn leather settee. No scream or grotesque image on the TV. Merely an empty bottle on the coffee table.

You swallowed, shutting the door cautiously with a muffled click of the latch. You didn't dare call his name. Just pushed it down into your stomach for it to churn the thought up in acid. But the horror jumped back up your throat into a lurid scream at the sight of your mattress tossed to the side. The moth bitten pillowcase on the floor, void of money. Your money. Gone. Someone had rifled through your belongings. Turned your only space into a mess. Strewn clothes, bed sheets, pillows in their haste. All your work. All the nights of living off bitter coffee from the pot at work, scrounging together tips. It made you seethe. The heat was an inferno at your fingertips, nails embedding crescents into your palms. You searched all over for it. But to no avail.

When Uncle Luke came home, he smelled of hard liquor. It was a miracle – or curse – he hadn't wrapped his car around a tree. He gloated, and sneered, and shoved it down your throat in his intoxication that he’d found it under the mattress. Joel had called him, told him you planned on leaving. And he connected the dots. Ransacked your room. Oh, how the man would hate his loose lips when you gave him hellfire.

You expected Luke’s reaction. You knew if he were to ever find out he’d snatch it up in his greedy, grimy hands and take it for himself. He spent all of it. Paid his debt to Joel, gambled some on bad luck bets, drank with the rest. Slugged liquor down his throat and got drunk off your labour. And then left you on your floor with tear stained cheeks and a heart of heavy lead.

You wanted your money. But would you take from the man who gave you your everything? Your sense of being. A religion and faith. You believed in nothing more than the way he held your name between his teeth. You forgot what your real name felt like in the same place. And it occurred to you that he had never said it. Did he know it? You weren't them anymore. You were Cherub.

The sweet and mourning lamb in you wanted to go over just to be his again, and not carry out the plan of taking back what was yours. That which he would see as sin. You felt guilt claw up your throat at the thought alone. It seemed blasphemous to conspire against him. Why do you insist on protecting yourself. You who was the sacrificial lamb?

If you did go – and you let him have you again – you were whole. But at what cost? Could you stand another night of temporary hell under the guise of heaven. Of touch so cold, like ivory or black ice. To have him thumb your skin with blunt endearments and the croon of ‘cherub’ past his chapped lips. Definite like black and white. No escape. What he’d do and how. Whispering them in the stone deaf shells of your ears like they were a sculpture. Pygmalion’s Bride. He’d made you all you were today. Took chisel to marble and carved out his masterpiece. Cherub.

You were soft, and pliable. Wax heated by his flame. You kissed back. You moaned for him. Begged him for his release and not your own. Bruised with his handprint. The warmth of life under flesh. But without him…you returned to marble. Another pretty thing to be gawked at. He tempted you with it because he knew more than anyone, more than god himself who watches these exchanges, that you can't live without him. It was like telling a child not to slip off to the woods in the dead of night. That was a pointless warning. You knew what lay there anyway, what threat it would be. That wolf in his thick bristled hyde. Curled up in his den. You would see it as innocence and vulnerability if you weren't so scared. But you knew when he woke up the teeth would shine again. And they’d tear flesh. Let blood. Gnash bone. Dripping from the glaring white once he finished with your carcass. Your matter between them and your crimson lacing his gums. Who knew being eaten alive could be so pleasurable.

But then again, how could bering alone really be hell if the devil wasn't there?

There is mania in your body. But you can't get it out. It rattles in your head and lungs and glues to the backs of your gnashers. No matter how much you wish to spit it out. It infects your tongue. It welds itself to the matter of your bones. Melts into the cracks between your teeth. Claggy against your tongue. All to show the sweetest of words have the bitterest of tastes. You can feel it swell underneath your skin. In the gap between muscles where it festers and heats you up. Like fever it burns, like the fire that consumes and the pillars that hold the temple up crack, the ground shakes, and the beast rears its ugly head at you. You’re losing your body to him. It's a fight you try to win. You dare to. You give your all, tooth and nail each time in the gaps between. In the silence and hollow that nestles in the middle of the meetings. In the quiet, where no one is around but the cracked plaster of your room. You stopped caring who fired the gun first. You were always the one who got shot down in the end. Right in the stomach. Blood gurgling up your throat in a grotesque plea for help.

All these weeks you had shrunk yourself to the size of a bird in his hands, sang a sweet sweet song of his name, until the squeeze of his first closest off your throat. And the sound stopped altogether. Laid there after the warning. Patient while you had your wings clipped and your freedom taken. And he took more. Took the beating of your heart with his teeth. Took the will to want. The will to love. The will to need anything else, as well as the need to have better. Below you were the foundations. Only now you saw them for what they were, a decaying mess of fragments, the stench of wood rot hot in your nose. A musk like no other. His musk. So in your anger you took an axe to a willow to see how it would weep. You slipped past the sleeping drunk you call Uncle Luke. Out the door, over gravel, past the truck he coaxed you to without the need of a sweet treat. You’d yank the axe from the bark of the weeping willow, its sob echoing in the wind that rustled its drapery of lush green leaves. Leaves that will wilt as sap bleeds from its severed trunk. Take the axe to the wolf. Cut him. Scrotum to throat.

Take back what was yours. And leave those woods skipping.

—

Your knocks descend upon his door in quick raps until he opened it with a grumble. Then a smirk. “Evenin’, Cherub.”

No salvation. No going back. No space among the clouds. Just the fall. You pushed past him into his front room. “Where is it?’ You hissed, tossing the cushions of the couch up. Nothing there. So you left them on the floor and did the same for the airchair. Nothing there either.

“Woah, calm down, girl!’ Joel huffed, reaching for your arm, which you tugged back from him in a new found strength surging you forward, out of his arms. “Where’s what?”

“My damn money, Miller!” You bit back with venom laced spit. A hunger for revenge making you salivate like a bad dog.

“The fuck you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I'm talking about, dickhead!” And he recoiled at your bared teeth, your verbal assault and battery, but went in for his own.

“Watch your damn foul language, girl!” He warned, reaching the end of his already short tether.

“You know how much he stole from me? Three hundred dollars of my hard earned chash. Forget my fucking ticket out of this shithole, I ain’t even paying rent now! And for what? Your god awful drugs!” His nostrils flared, and you watched the vein in his neck bulge under the sweltering heat of his own anger. Coiling inside him. Wounded bitch about to bite back.

“You didn’t have much of a probelm with my drugs after I fucked that pretty little hole of yours. All dumb and needy f’me, Cherub.” You grimaced at the sneer. But the feeling made your knees buckle. The name again. Cherub. You were Cherub. His cherub. “You want ya money back, huh? You can have it.”

That made you stutter. Thoughts skidding to halt at the sight of a brick wall. Crumpled matter as it smashed into it anyway. “What?”

“I ain't giving it to you for free though.”

“You're sick! It’s my fucking money!”

“Not in the eyes of the law its not.” And he folded his great oaks of arms over his chest in satisfaction. Once again one upping you.

“The eyes of the law? Says the fucking drug dealer. I bet you got way worse than coke in duffel over there. Wonder what the law would say about that?” It was said dismissively over your shoulder as you turned to leave. Alas, once again his large hand encompassed your wrist and squeezed. Pulled you back flush to his broad chest. His breath was hot on your neck as he whispered sweetly into your ear.

“Come on now, Cherub. You wouldn't do me in like that would ya? Not when I love ya…”

The way he said it…it didn't seem real. It was false. Comforting but not real. You knew it was a lie. This wasn't love. He didnt love. If he loved you he'd ask for your number then call you. Take you out. Let you cry on his shoulder and drive you home after. Kiss you in the dark for only the walls to see. Let you stay a night or two, or a whole damn week. Give you your damn money back. Stand up to Luke with a closed fist to the face. Leave swelling and a deep bruise on his cheekbone as a first and final warning.

“You love me?” You asked, voice small and hollow in your chest.

“Yeah, Cherub. I love you too.” He cooed, as if he knew you loved him already. All this and nose running over the curve of the side of your neck, tongue trailing hot in pursuit, it had you keeling over in confession at his feet. “You’re so cute when you're angry. Come on now, lemme make those tears go away…and you can have your money back, and we can forget this ever happened.” That tone…it was patronising. It made the sense in you rattle the cage of your ribs. Claw at the bars of bone and run into them like a caged animal. Because that’s what it was. A caged animal. But your heart was holding its hand over its mouth in a trance as it let his words ebb deeper. Somewhere between desperate and divine. But what was his motive?

God, Jesus, all above that is holy, you didn't care! After all this time, it was still no secret, or hushed uttering that Joel Miller was now everywhere in you. Scraping the backs of your teeth, festering like a virus in your bloodstream. Melding to the marrow of your bones. The walls of your cunt.

He still had a devastating habit of seeping through the cracks of your closed lids. Still ready to pillage and plunder his way through your head in its numbed state of sleep. When you could have finally— finally stopped and not felt. But he ebbs deeper. Always would. Always will.

It's what got you here. It would end you if it could. Snuff out your heartbeat and the fire inside of you. All he need do was lick his fingers and press them to the wick. And leave the smoke to string out and curl. You thought you were hungry for love before. But now you realised you were just hungry for the sight of your blood on his lips. The gnashing of you between his teeth. The curl you made of his brow. If it wasn’t devastating, reaping its agony in your silly little fractured chest— you didn’t dare need, nor crave it. You came for the pleasure but you stayed for the pain. And he took again, and again.

So you let him ‘make it up to you’. Let him claw at your clothes until they were scraps on the floor. Tore your stockings. Showed you those gleaming teeth. The wolf. And you, his sacrificial lamb. His Cherub.

“Feel that?’ He asked, with the slow drag back and forth of him inside you, parting you. This wasn’t fast, or rough. This was slow. And it made you need more. Need it faster. Need him hurtling you towards the edge of harrowing oblivion. He knew that. It’s why he took his time with it this time around. “Yeah. You do.” Joel answered for you. You never had to answer. But often he made you say it from your own quivering lips. Just to have the taste of the words from your tongue bleed into his. The neverending praise. “Why would you wanna leave that Cherub?” You couldn't answer, only let out a soft sob. “Huh? Answer me, Cherub. Why’d you wanna fuckin’ leave that?” And he punctuated it with pulling out to the bulbous head of his clock, then slamming back in with one sharp thrust. And then he was still.

You whined a shallow gasp into his mouth. But he didn’t kiss you. Joel never kissed you. His teeth sinking into your bottom lip shut you right up before his tongue delved deeper into it. The thumb of the hand that slithered between your legs rolled over your clit, making you mewl over the buzz of electricity causing you to clamp down on his thick, full cock. You were so eager for more. Anything more than what he was giving you. He smirked into your mouth when he felt your hips buck forward, trying your damn hardest to push his cock deeper into you. Silly little cherub. You should know better than to defy God. “See? Felt good didn’t it?” You nodded as much as you could in your current piston.

“Mhm.”

“See what you can have if you stay. Why fight it cherub?”

“Yes, Joel.”

“You gonna listen then, Cherub?”

“Yes. Yes! I’ll listen, just-” You shuddered at the thought of it, tears brimming at the the threshold of your eye. ”Please.”

“Say it.” He waited, wanting you to beg for it in the pretty way he knew you could. The choir voice. The songbirds hymn. The whole time his eyes did nothing but stare you down hungry at the sight of you falling apart from nothing but a hand to your throat and a single his throbbing dick buried in your aching cunt. It all pooled down into your centre, creating a rush your head had trouble keeping up with. “Tell me why you wanted to leave.”

“I dunno-” You stuttered, once again rolling your hips up. His hand at your throat pressed into your skin again, harder. It choked you. It had you drawing in a sharp, meagre breath. And he pulled out, running the underside of himself through the hot, drooling seam of your cunt. You shivered when the tip brushed up to your clit momentarily. The bead of precome at his slit smearing into your sex, mixing with your slick. “I dunno, Joel. I- I just wanted my money. I just wanted out. I hate it.” You babbled through closed eyes, chest heaving with sobs, and hot tears ran thick down your flushed cheeks.

“You hate it, huh?” He mocked and crooned, still catching your clit with the tip of his cock, hips waxing and waning in a slow roll. “You hate me too?” He knew the answer. But again, it was the satisfaction of knowing you were wrapped around his finger. Ready to bend over backwards for him. Him seeping into you through the cracks of your ribs, the gaps between your teeth. The opening of yourself to the twisting knot of denial within you. Your back arched like the lofty roof of a chapel, legs parting like its heavy doors. He followed you with hunger. You opened your mouth to speak but he squeezed momentarily on your throat again, oxygen starvation and the smell of him dizzying you. He relished in the whimper that he garnered from you. That and how he left you breathless just from his cruel touch.

“No.” You garbled as his thumb unhinged your jaw. Saliva in your mouth pooling while his thumb pressed your tongue down, bitter with a smokers telltale tobacco staining. It slipped past your lips, dribbled down his digits making a sticky mess at the curve of his thick wrist. He drew up a glob of saliva in his throat, watching as it drooled thickly, gluttonously, past his lips into your waiting mouth. He watched as you gagged on it, and then he let your jaw go so you could close your mouth. You swallowed eagerly, savouring the taste on your tongue. For what did it matter anymore? One day, you’ll be nothing but dust. Bronchioles in lungs will mimic roots. Navels will copy trunks. Organs will feed worms. Ribs will fossilise and lips that are kissed will mould back to Mother Nature. It's all you have ever been. Quick. Convenient. Easy to please, eager to help. Waiting lips, wanting cunt. Warm, never warm enough. But he kept you like a butterfly in a glass jar. He let you see freedom but never experience it. Why need it when you had the stretch of him inside you. The feeling of him, heat to heat with your sex.

“You want this, cherub? Wanna be stuffed full of me again?”

“Always wanted it, Joel.” You mumbled into his mouth, sniffing back the last this spurt of tears, hypnotised. His hand wrapped around his cock, the large splay of his palm did nothing to dwarf its size with he jacked himself once, twice, three times to the sight of you. He squeezed the base with hiss, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth after cursing under his bated breath. He was thick, flushed, the tip swollen and leaking, drooling greedily with a rivulet of precum down the underside of his length. He trod a path with his hands down to your breasts, kneading each one between his palms with a pinch before guiding himself back into the mouth of your heat, your cunt swallowing him down to the base. The needy roll of your hips into his showed just how desperate you were. He groaned at the start of the friction between you, and slowly dragged back out of you, moving just as slowly back inside. He repeated this twice, and then he let loose. The motion turned into a needy clash of his hips to yours. Again. Again. Again. Somewhere along the sting of passion and heat, his hand wrapped around your throat, feeling the flex of it as you swallowed under his palm. He bit down into your neck, reaching out from you as his hips slammed erratically. His heavy balls slapping against your ass with each rut forward of his unrelenting. The way he fucked you, was like holding a knife to your throat. It grounded you in the most harrowing way to each of his breaths. His panting in your ear. It swallowed you whole. Mad your legs wrap around his waist and your hips keen up into him.

Your cunt drooled down his shaft, down to the base, down the sensitive skin of his cock. He growled and hissed in your ear, teeth closing around your earlobe, his hand dragging back up and grip tightening around your neck. Getting off on the feeling of your pulse under his thumb.

You felt the knot tighten. And tighten. Right in the pit of your stomach, deep in your sopping wet cunt where the mouth of your cervix met his fucking. The walls of your cunt sucking him back in as the angle of his hips snapped up into the spot that had you seeing entire constellations. They darted to and fro across your vision. It blurred the edge, spots of dark matter, deep black, the colour of oblivion slinging over the back of your eyes that now burned with tears of pleasure. His fingers dug deeper into malleable flesh, gripped tightly at your hip with his free hand, thumb brushing over your hip bone down your mound to toy with your clit after a slap to it. And it was the action that sent you spiralling, babbling his name nonsensically among a string of curse words. So pretty and fucked out beneath him. Joel couldn’t help but stare smugly as your eyes rolled back into your head when your orgasm hit like a freight train. He came undone soon after, his climax hitting a crescendo with a growl bitten into your shoulder, bruising and brandishing you with his mark again.

He pulled back, leaving you to the mercy of the cold. Watching was his hips moved again to fuck his release back into you. Your hole quivered in protest, and you squirmed under him. “Don’t be fucking ungreatful now, Cherub.” You relented, going still and boneless on the mattress. Limbs unfurling from their tension. “That's it. Take it. Take it all.” He groaned smoothly. Just like the roll of his hips. He fucked it slowly back into you. And you took his release inside you to keep. “Good girl, Cherub.” He whispered, kissing your lips in a tender dichotomy. Not letting you rest until he was satisfied you took every drop of him. Afterall, it was all you’d have left of him until he next chose to pick you up. All the while, he trailed his tongue back down to your breasts, pressing the flat of it to your nipple, drawing it with a sharp suck into his mouth. Pressing the blunt of his teeth into your flesh. Letting the taste melt on his tongue. Salty with your sweat. He did the same to the others. When he went soft inside of you, and his hips stilled. He slipped out of you with hitched breath, the pad of his fingertips tracing your abused, used sex. Your legs twitching when he rolled your clit under two fingers. “I said stop squirming.” He grunted, landing another slap to your pussy. It made an obscene wet sound. His come dribbling out slowly.

“Open your mouth.” Joel commanded, and you did. Waiting for whatever he had planned. He licked a hot strip from your asshole to your cunt, pressing his tongue in to drag out some of his release. And he climbed back up to spit it into your mouth. A hand clamping down on your jaw. “Don’t swallow. Close your mouth.” And you did with the side of his thumb clamping it shut for you. “Taste that?” You nodded in response. It was hot, heavy and thick and salty to taste. Divine. “Show me.” You opened again, his creamy spend diluted amongst your saliva and he smirked. Clamping your jaw shut again. “Swallow.”

Joel watched in open mouthed amusement as the delicate column of your throat rippled under muscle contract. “Good girl, Cherub. Remember that taste next time y’feel like leaving again.” He warned in a growl. And you nodded, swallowing your pride. Your fear. Your mania aiding in shoving it down your throat to dissolve in acid. Once again you were in those deep dark woods. The one where the wolf lay. Remnants of you in his teeth. The willow is still weeping, slashed in half. The axe free of his bloodshed by the entrance of his den. The owls' eyes still lit the scene of sin where overhead the starlight was snuffed out by the tangle of branches thick in their black greenery.

You never got your money back. Maybe one day you'd get out of this town. But the devil has a funny habit of making you want your own suffering. Even angels can’t resist a slice of that heaven. Fallen angel. Wounded bitch. Cherub.

[ennas-aesthetic]

Dream, Orpheus, and the Constellation Lyra

One of my favorite Sandman headcanons involves the constellation Lyra, and I'll explain why.

-- Also, fair warning: this is a SANDMAN COMICS SPOILERS ZONE from here on out. --

Lyra is a small constellation located in the Northern Celestial Hemisphere. It is mostly seen in the northern sky from June through October, and while it is considered a relatively dim constellation, contains Vega, one of the brightest stars in the night sky.

Lyra, also known as The Lyre, is often associated with the myth of the Greek musician and poet Orpheus. Specifically, it was his lyre: the one he brought to the Underworld to get Eurydice back. According to legend, after Orpheus was mutilated and killed by the maenads, a deity (often thought to be Zeus), took his lyre and hung it in the heavens.

Now, of course I'm not saying that the stars in the constellation Lyra ONLY appeared after Orpheus' death. What I AM saying is that constellations are, more often than not, effigies of stories: markers of tales that are immortalized, set in stone, thought to live forever. Because what is more Endless than the stars that shine in the night sky? (The illusion of permanence, Destruction had waxed poetically.) And though one does not control the placement and (seeming) permanence of the stars, one CAN control the stories assigned to a particular asterism. Used in memoriam. And there is only one anthropomorphic personification who has both the motive and the power to do so.

Dream, after all, is the Prince of Stories.

He is also often mistaken to be the Greek God Apollo - Orpheus' father who, legend says, gave Orpheus his lyre.

He is, in fact, Orpheus' father.

And just... the implication of Dream figuratively hanging his son's lyre in the heavens by immortalizing the myths and tales that spurned from it is soo compelling and incredibly heartbreaking for me. Even more so if you actually think about when he might have done it -- if he had started to immortalize the story behind the asterism right after he said his goodbyes to Orpheus, told him he would never see him again. That he wasn't his father anymore. The action tells such a secret, heart-rending pain and ache, showing that perhaps Dream wasn't as unaffected by the falling apart as he appeared to be. That there is still a bitter kind of love in there, somewhere. That Dream, too, wished that things had been otherwise, no matter how much he tries to deny it.

What's even better is that this does not seem to be Dream's first time putting up memorials to preserve stories that MEAN something to him. In the Netflix show, the Gates of Horn and Ivory contain bas-relief sculptures of what looked like him and a girl. Anyone who has read Overture, of course, would immediately know that the bas-relief is HIS AND ALIANORA'S LOVE STORY. Unto the Gates of Horn and Ivory Dream has carved the story of a girl of light who saved him, and who - like most of his lovers - eventually felt abandoned and forsaken by him.

There's just SO MUCH to unpack in this if he has done the memorial bit more than once. Why does he do it? Is it to remind him of his shortcomings? To torture himself for all the mistakes he has done, to remember to keep everyone at arm's length lest his love shatters and ruins them? A stark, solid admonishment to continue pushing his feelings down, to never mourn or grieve, or feel, lest it destroys the collective unconscious entirely? Perhaps we'll never find out. All we'll know is that those stars will continue to shine and that Orpheus' tale will probably last, as permanent as the lyre his father has lovingly crafted, then hung in the heavens. A tale of pride, love, regret, and tragedy.

We'll tell it again. And again. And again.

And in that way, he lives.

[jusalle]

☆ Richarlison Imagine ☆

• That was you Anjo? •

(I thought this was cute so I hope yall enjoy🤍)

At a young age you've loved to play football. It was basically everything to you. Your dream was to eventually make it pro. You wanted to make you family proud.

Eventually you made all that reality, it was definitely difficult to achieve it but you always used motivation if it was either from your family or just to be the best.

But there was that one thing that kept you keep moving, oddly enough it was a memory you had.

There was one memory that stuck with you forever.

As you remembered you were maybe around 9.

Since you loved to play football and practice, there was a huge field where you used to practice, it even had goals on both sides of the field.

You practically went there every. single. day.

You were practicing one day and practicing your dribbling and focused on new tricks.

As you were practicing how to do a bicycle kick you heard a voice and you turned around.

You completely zoned out and analyzed this person. It was a boy, maybe around the same age as you.

He has bueatiful brown eyes and wore some shorts and a regular t shirt and he wore football cleats so you guessed that he was also liked to play football.

You noticed he said something but you zoned out.

"Eu sinto Muito ( I'm sorry), I zoned out for a bit but what were you saying?" You said softly as you stared at the boy

The boy chuckled lightly and your chest began to ache. The boy had a handsome smile and bueatiful laugh.

" I was saying that the bicycle kick was nice" The boy said with a smile as he gave you a thumbs up

You didn't know the boy was watching you while you were practicing your bicycle kick, you became flustered because you knew it wasn't the best kick but the boy was complimenting you.

" I- thank you, I know its not the best but I practice" You said softly

" You have skills Anjo, your better than many people I've seen but anyways do you wanna practice together Anjo?" The boy said grinning.

Your whole face flushed when you heard the nickname he gave you. You definitely didn't expect him to call you that, but did you like it?...yes

As the two of you practiced, the boy observed you.

Once he first saw you practicing he liked your playing style almost as if he admired you.

When he got a glimpse of the girl, she was gorgeous in his opinion. The way her hair moved,her gorgeous features and the way she moved with ball so effortlessly.

The two of you did a little match against eachother. Usually the boy would beat anyone in a match but for you he couldn't simply do it.

He simply couldn't beat you even though he tried his best, but you two were both end in a draw.

In the end the two of you were exhausted as the both of you lay on the grass next to eachother panting, trying to calm down.

" it's getting late Anjo, I have to get going" the boy said as he got up as you did the same.

" You were probably the best person I've played against Anjo!.You'll probably make it big one day." The boy said smiling

" You too, you played well against me, I think you'll make it big one day to." You said softly as you smiled back at the boy

" I better see you playing for a pro team Anjo, once you get older." He said

Before you knew, the both of you blurted out somthing.

"Eu acredito em você" the both of you said at the same time.

(I believe in you)

The both of you laughed at the coincidence.

" Goodbye Mi Anjo, I'll see you soon" the boy said as he left.

Your body felt as ease when you played with him. Then you realized you didn't get his name but the time you tried to look for him he was already gone.

After that you never saw the boy again.

☆☆☆☆

Now you were 25, you played in the Manchester women's team. You have a boyfriend and it was the one and only Richarlison De Andrade who played for Spurs and Brazil.

You two have been together for 3 years now. Richarlison adores you, he loves to you to death. As for you, it was a mutual feeling.

When you first met Richarlison, he felt familiar, for some odd reason. His features look familiar but you brushed it off.

Little did you know that, he also got the same feeling. To him you looked familiar but he brushed it off too.

But once you and Richarlison got together, he loved to call you Anjo which meant Angel. You were in love with the nickname but when he first called you that, the memory you had from long ago appeared in your head.

You were confused why suddenly you remembered it but then you began to speculate. You tried to think and you thought maybe if that boy from long ago was Richarlison?.

But it sounded impossible to you, it sounded crazy.

The boy that encouraged you so much and you havnt seen in years was your now boyfriend of 3 years?.

To you it sounded crazy so you quickly brushed it off, and tried not to worry about it.

Currently now you and Richarlison were current making dinner together. You and him loved to make dinner together since the both of you can bond together.

Everytime you two made dinner, you guys liked to ask questions so you two can learn new things about eachother.

" What's your favorite football trick Anjo?" Your boyfriend as he cut up some vegetables.

" Maybe either the Bicycle trick or Scissor trick" You said smiling.

" Your turn Meu Amor" Richarlison said as he kissed your forehead as he went to the fridge to grab something.

" What's your favorite Memory Amor?, it can be any" you asked randomly not thinking anything of it.

" Well, when I was kid, I met a girl. She was good at football. She was practicing some trick. I forgot what it was but it was impressive. So I decided go up to the girl, I didn't even know her but I still went up up her. We did a friendly match" Richarlison said as he continued to rambled on but you completely froze.

That memory was exactly like yous. You began to think if Richarlison was really that boy.

Then you came out of your thoughts when you heard him say somthing.

" Then after I told her I hope she makes it pro then we said-"

"Eu acredito em você" you said.

( I believe in you)

Richarlison looked at confused.

You smiled instantly and you felt estatic

" Meu Amor, that was me all those years ago" You said chuckling.

You couldn't belive it.

" That was you Anjo?" Richarlison said stunned, he couldn't belive it either.

Then he instantly smiled the brightest you've seen and walk up to you and put his finger under your chin and made you look up at him.

" I see, I've found my Anjo after all these years" Richarlison said as he whispered into your ear.

••••

I thought this was cute but I feel like it's eh now, I hope yall enjoy though. Also I'll be posting more so don't be suprised if yall see more post of mine!.🤍🤍

[yourbelgianthings]

taz november celebration fic 3: prompt laugh

contrary to what you may think for this prompt, this is sad for like 3/4 of it lol but the end is happy, it’s tres horny boys and about 850 words

Magnus Burnsides's laugh was deep and hearty, but he wasn't used to hearing it by itself; he had always been laughing with Julia. Their life together was perfect, working with their hands and having something to show for it at the end of the day, then coming home to each other. Julia made dinner, Magnus did the dishes, their routine was consistent and comforting. They even thought about having a baby, although they were in no rush. Of course, that never happened, and when Magnus hugged Julia goodbye the day he left town, neither of them knew it would be the last. His friends brought dinners, went for walks, and spent evenings on the porch with Magnus after Julia's death, but he actually chose to bury her alone. The physical act of digging the grave was satisfying in a sick way, it grounded his soul in his body despite its countless attempts to break out through his ribs and fly away. A simple granite slab laid on top, reading: Julia Burnsides, We Love You Forever. His tears darkened the stone in little circles until the sun began to set, and he wouldn't laugh again for some time.

Merle Highchurch always did his best to keep a positive outlook, but it was hard to find reasons to laugh without his kids around. Apparently his sense of humor consisted of a lot of "dad jokes", and those weren't really a big hit with anyone else, especially when he was out trying to preach the word of Pan. He constantly struggled with his choice to leave after he was gone, if it was only the arranged marriage that was the problem, things would have been so much simpler. However, Hecuba and he had Mavis and Mookie, who he loved dearly. That didn't change the fact that he wasn't a very good dad, though, intentions don't count for much in that regard. So, he decided they would be better off without him; if you love something let it go and all that. Cycling through feelings of freedom, guilt, regret, apathy, and more, he wandered the world, presumably to share the word of Pan, but really just wishing to be able to laugh again.

Taako Taaco was very hard to make laugh. He and Lup used to do just that when they were bored, whoever laughed first lost and then they would just be in a fit of giggles for a while anyway. They found things funny between themselves that nobody else understood, but it didn't matter, because it made perfect sense to them. Not that he remembered any of this, of course. The Taako who forgot could be very cynical, and often saw humor from others as an attempt to conceal their true attitudes or motives. On stage for Sizzle It Up With Taako, he laughed and told jokes, but that was about as fake as it got. Hearing the applause and cheers from the audience, seeing the excitement in their eyes, and being complimented as he signed autographs and posed for pictures gave Taako energy and kept him going. He thrived on the attention, but some days, it wasn't enough and there was nothing else. Getting out of bed seemed impossible as his body simultaneously felt heavy and hollow. After Glamor Springs, this set in for several weeks until he suddenly thought: I'm fuckin' Taako from TV, I can go do whatever I want, and if anyone has a problem wit h that, I'll just laugh in their face and keep going.

One night, several months later, in their dorm at the Bureau of Balance, Tres Horny Boys were having a sleepover. Technically, they always did this by virtue of sharing a room, but they had decided to make a night of it, just for fun. Taako cooked the most delicious popcorn the other two had ever had, with the perfect amounts of butter and salt, and he also bought some nail polish from the Fantasy Costco. Magnus realized that Pringles had left some of his stuff in the room, so they had some cool old CDs to listen to, and Merle had found some candles for more ambient lighting. They were all set for the perfect sleepover, and as Taako was painting Magnus's nails shiny silver by candlelight, Merle set down the big bowl of popcorn he had been snacking on and asked, "What did everyone say to the kernel when he finally popped?"

Taako snorted and said,

"Merle, I am not even going to entertain this one," but there was a smile on his face.

Magnus gave in, "I don't know, Merle, what?"

"CORN-GRATULATIONS!"

Magnus immediately burst out laughing, which made Merle join in and Taako shout,

"Mags, you're going to mess up your nails!" although he couldn't help laughing too. It was just so ridiculous and Merle's confidence in the delivery was what really got them. The three of them flopped onto each other, slightly out of breath the way the best fits of laughter leave you, Taako leaning on Magnus's shoulder and Merle leaning on his stomach on the other side. They all smiled, and for the moment, things were okay.

[giggles-and-freckles]

Tag Game To Better Know You

I have been tagged in so many things by so many of you lovely people in the midst of my sorta-hiatus and I would break the internet if I tried to catch up...but I like this one because it feels like a good little re-intro into the Tumblr world. :-)

What book are you currently reading?

The Writing Revolution...I can't in good conscience recommend it unless you also happen to find yourself as a teacher trying to capture teenagers' imaginations and get them to produce complete sentences! Hahahaha. Miserable toil.

What’s your favourite movie you saw in theatres this year?

Ooh, this one's easy--The Little Mermaid!! I have seen it with my family twice and then with my friends once. (I felt a little freer to lust after Prince Eric when my husband and two children weren't sitting there with me...)

What do you usually wear?

These days, some form of athleisure. During the school year, I've been told my teacher style is "Jessica Day if she didn't care so much" and...that about sums it up.

How tall are you?

5′5″ AND A HALF (alternatively: taller than @stolen-pen-name23 which is all that truly matters in this world)

What’s your star sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event?

Cancer...I think? Malala Yousafzai and Henry David Thoreau!

Do you go by your name or a nickname?

Most folks IRL call me Abigail. It's just my brothers, husband, and you guys who call me Abi!

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child?

Absolutely not. I wanted to be a lawyer my entire life. My undergrad was pre-law and then life had other plans for me and now I'm teaching 8th grade American History. And LOVING IT. I start grad school in the fall and I'll be getting my Principal's Certification with that, so I suppose I'm in this education world for the long haul.

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one?

I am tragically married. Sorry to all interested parties!

What’s something you’re good at vs. something you’re bad at?

I'm fairly good with piano and singing. I'm terrible at cooking.

Dogs or cats?

Dogs forever and ever!

If you draw/write, or create in any way, what’s your favourite picture/favourite line/favourite etc. from something you created this year?

Oh my. I haven't written as much as I'd like to this year (although I'm hoping to post something before the weekend!!) so I'm choosing to interpret this as the last 12 months. Maybe this bit from walking by her side, talking by her side, have pity?

He holds out his hand, wondering if she’ll bare touching him. “Goodbye, Leia.”

She is not a girl of gentleness—this, he can tell. But she accepts the hand like she’s afraid to shatter it. “Goodbye.”

“Saying my name won’t hurt you, you know,” he says, refusing to be the first to let go.

“Remind me?”

He rolls his eyes. “Anakin Skywalker.”

“Skywalker, you said?” she echoes, and lets their hands fall between them. She opens the door and smiles teasingly at him, tilting her head. “Interesting. That was my father’s name.”

What’s something you’d like to create content for?

I think I'm forever stuck in my prequels hell!

What’s something you’re currently obsessed with?

Ur mom. Okay...sorry. Ahem. I've been sewing more lately. I used ot dabble in high school, but I'm finding more motivation to make things for my toddler than I did to make things for myself.

What’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?

The weather recently! It was supposed to rain the past couple weeks and we've not gotten much more than a few minutes of sprinkling. I looooove rainy days, so that's bummed me out quite a bit.

What’s a hidden talent of yours?

I'm excellent at whistling. It's completely useless, but I'll get compared to a Disney princess occasionally, so I guess that's something.

Are you religious?

Yes. My faith is very important to me, but it's *my* faith, so I don't feel the need to bring it up with strangers unless asked about it. (Crazy concept, right?)

What’s something you wish to have at this moment?

A cuppa tea...so I think I'll go put the kettle on byeeeee

No pressure tags: @pandora15 @stolen-pen-name23 @tessiete @ilonga @kckenobi & anyone who wants to join in the fun!

[sparklymuses]

hey everyone, been a while. i hope you're all well and doing what you love. i think it's finally time i had a talk about why i'm never really here. it's not anything serious in real life, it's just a personal reason to me.

my absence isn't only out of no motivation and why i've yet to really respond to most of anything sent to me.

i like being here, i like writing my favourite characters, and i like thinking up scenarios for ones that didn't get as much spotlight as the main cast did. i did it from my childhood and i still fantasize about it here. the people i met from a website that was described back in the day as ❛ hell on earth ❜ ( or modern day twitter ) ended up being a very pleasant place. however, i've feel more disconnected from it and i don't think i really knew why or just didn't want to acknowledge it.

the reason why i liked roleplaying with friends was a sense of community. to connect with one another to share your love for the subjects or just play with your characters as if they were action figures with other kids. it made everything worth it to me. i didn't really grow up with many friends, so this felt like an escape.

when i got older and moved to such a larger site like deviantart or here, i made a few friends here but that's when i started having burnout. not just from life, but from a sense that something was different that didn't capture the feeling from before.

i was lonely.

the people i met were great, we had good times, good laughs, and then they were gone the next.

the people i met were wonderful, happy, and very expressive. but not having a strong connection or a group to be with. i've gotten used to discord and found a group that i kept going on with for hours, weeks, months ... and then it was gone. and i realized how empty it was after.

despite the good times i had, at the end - all i had was the silence. with the silence did come good memories to look back on, but the more i began to wonder how different it would all be if i just reached out to the ones i wanted to be friends with. to put down my guard and finally just lend out a hand.

of course it's easy to not forget to be cautious, especially on this day and age of what kind of people can be behind a screen, but being protective shouldn't come at this cost of being isolated. it's no better than a prison.

not every friend comes with a group, or a long winded explanation from childhood. sometimes it's just a nice person you meet on the streets, cafe, or internet forum. it doesn't have to keep a deep meaning or last forever, sometimes it's just beautiful as is.

maybe sometime i'll go back to it all again, but maybe sometimes it'll be long inactive periods like this. my biggest regret wasn't writing more, it was not telling people that i loved being around them.

this isn't goodbye, but i wanted to finally sit down and explain it all. maybe even give the few people who read this some self reflection and give them the push to really be friends with one another.

thank you all for listening, writing, and being with me. i hope to talk with you all soon. have a great day or night.

love those who call you their friend.

[draggged-leer]

SEE YOU AGAIN?

Jake mason x Michael yew

Timeline — during the battle of manhattan/TLO

_________

Right after Percy divided the campers to go their separate ways, Michael Yew the new head counselor of cabin 7, was watching his younger siblings hug their friends goodbye and wishing them luck as some of the Apollo kids would stay behind to help heal the wounded.

When Michael was about to gather his siblings up, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He was about to shove the person away until the random kid spoke.

“Don’t be stupid, I can’t lose you either.” Michael turned to look who was speaking to him, it was his boyfriend, technically secret boyfriend since they haven’t came out yet but it was obvious they have a thing for each other.

“When am I ever stupid?” Michael said, Jake gave him that look.

“Fine yeah whatever I won’t, and don’t think your losing me, I’ll be that annoying mosquito that won’t leave you alone, I’m always gonna be by your side, just not in the bathroom and when you’re sleeping or that’ll be creepy.” Michael grinned, Jake rolled his eyes and shook his head before pulling Michael into a hug.

“Just please be careful, for me?” Michael blushed, jake always had Michael on chokehold every time he did those puppy dog eyes, and would they work on Michael? Yes, all the time.

“Fine, just stop doing those eyes.” Jake smiled. “Same goes to you, be safe.” Michael said, jake nodded.

“I will. Now we have to get going.” Jake started walking away Michael stopped him.

“Jake!” Michael yelled to get his attention

“Yeah?” Jake said turned around to see a mischievous smile on Michael face.

“Can I get a kiss?” Michael said as he walked closer to Jake with that flirtatious look on his face. Jake rolled his eyes at Michael, with a small smile, then leaned down to kiss Michael, it was a short kiss.

“Man, can you make it last forever?” Michael said as Jake pulled back, Jake looked at him confused.

“What do you mean if I can make it last forever?”

“It was too short, I need it longer.” Michael said as his cheeks grew pink.

Jake smirked, it was funny seeing Michael ask for more since he wasn’t really big in physical touch. “And why would I do that?” Jake said as he started fixing Michael’s hair.

“Im about to go to War, Jake. I need something to keep me motivated.” Michael cupped Jake’s face and making him lean down to be face to face. “And kissing you is what keeps me on track.”

Michael was always the flirty one, he would always get Jake flustered, occasionally Jake would flirt back and he found laugh every time he would see how Michael’s face would get, his cheeks go bright red, his eyes would dilate and he would sometimes stutter over his own word even if it was just a simple pick up line.

Jake kissed him, again. This time a little longer, he still had his hands in Michael’s hair as Michael had his hands holding Jake’s face.

“Now why would you want me to kiss you? Like in public where anyone can see?”jake said as he fixed his posture.

Michael sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know if I’ma see you again, and so I just want to experience that one last time.” Michael grabbed Jake’s hand and squeezed it.

“I love you.”

Jake felt like he was about to burst into tears, he didn’t know why Michael was talking like he was going to die, he couldn’t. They both were going to stay head counselors together, and Michael would never let 13 year old Will take all the responsibility now. So Jake just sighed.

Jake grabbed Michael’s left hand and pulled up to his lips before leaving a small peck on it.

“I love you too.”

[shankschewtoy]

Hi.. hello... can I ask for a good luck helmet kiss headcannon (or lil' scenario) with Killer from one piece? Please and thank you very much.

a/n - Hi Kero!! I’m so glad you loved the killer hcs from my last post 🥺 I’ll do both a scenario and some headcanons <3

Warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, fluff

Good luck

- When you hopped onto your tippy toes to give his helmet a kiss, I think you might’ve broken him

- “Good luck, I love you!”

- He swore he fainted at least twice standing up

- Underneath his helmet, he turned into every possible shade of red

- His heart melted that you would give him a good luck kiss 🥺

- He bent down to you and wrapped his arms around you, tightly squeezing your body against his own

- “I’ll be back soon, I love you.”

- Man I think he’ll win the whole battle just by himself because of you 👍

- Kid was so confused

- “Killer why the hell are you so motivated today?!”

- “I have someone to get back to, unlike you.”

- “DON’T GIVE ME THAT ATTITUDE FUCK YOU 👹”

- my man’s so confident abt having someone as wonderful as you lmao

- he ONLY brags about you to kid tho 👌

- The spot you kissed on his helmet will forever stay there because he knows the exact place, and will never wipe it off 💀

- this man now expects a good luck kiss everytime he leaves 🥺

- pls give him kisses in general <3

——— >

Scenario - Lucky goodbyes

You watched Killer start to walk down the path towards his ship where his captain awaited. You couldn’t help but think that you needed to say something different this time.. What if this would be the last time you saw him..? Worry set into your mind, and you ran after him, grabbing his arm, quickly turning the man around. He made a noise of shock before you hopped onto your tippy toes, placing your lips on the side of his helmet. “Good luck.. I love you Killer.” You would say with a smile, plopping down on your feet again, your heels touching the ground. He froze, and didn’t move for a couple seconds before he quickly embraced you tightly, leaning his head in the crook of your neck. “Acting like I won’t be back-? I’ll never leave ya, I love you too.” He would reply close to your ear, his low voice tickling your ear slightly. When you felt him pull away, you felt a more lonely sensation, but when you saw him wave goodbye to you… Your face turned into a warm smile, one that always made Killer happy to see. He’d be back, you knew it.

a/n - this was so cute oml 😭 (cough I haven’t even passed ep 144 yet cough) so I might’ve captured Killer and Kid kinda wrong- 💀 I hope y’all liked it tho <3

<3

[myjunkisyuzuruhanyu]

Let's talk about Shoma...NHK edition...

Two 2nd places and Shoma is in the GPF. He had a much better free skate than at CoC. So it should be something to be happy about. But clearly I am not.

If you have seen my post from CoC you know that I am not upset about Shoma getting 2nd, I am upset about the way he got 2nd. Fight me on this but in any other tech panel of the season he would have a 195+ score for his skate, if not even 200. (And if you looked at the tech box it was 106 TES and that would have given him a 198 score even with those PCS) I don't want to speculate about any political games or anything, for now I simply want to believe Shoma was simply disliked by the tech panel ppl.

(And btw I like Yuma a lot and I am happy he is back! Iif one is winning over Shoma, I am happy if it's Yuma just not like this and this isn't Yuma's fault ofc, so nothing against Yuma.)

What's most sad about Shoma's silver today is that it made him question competing and his abilties. 😭😭😭

He felt good about his performance and then tech panel completely deflated all positive feelings. His comments are so defeated. Ofc he is Shoma so his reaction is still polite and everything and he smiled at Yuma and interacted like normal. But still this is a new low. He perfomed good, he did all combos, landed the 4F and Axels that he was insecure about in the practice, even yoloed a 4T which alone shows his superiority bc who else can do that??? And yet it wasn't enough for the fcking judges to give him high scores.

We all knew Shoma wasn't gonna skate forever and I always knew that it could very well be his last season, but his comments didn't sound so final, so I thought there was maybe a tiny bit hope he'd still continue. But today I am not even sure he will not retire after Nats. I have my doubt he would neglect the opportunity if he's selected for Worlds but if you'd ask him today he probably won't go. Pulling a Tatsuki Machida never seemed more real...and part of me wouldn't even mind. I would lie if I say I won't be sad about Shoma's retirement, but all I really want is him happy and if competing isn't making him happy anymore...better retire on own terms than the Jfed and ISU waving you goodbye by lowballing you...

I hope though that while his comments now are negative, that he will rethink the attitude bc it's not him who has reached a limit or who isn't capable of better scores, it's a fcking judging mishap. Keiji said his 4Loop was brilliant and rotation clean, Shoma himself said he was surprised about the 4Lo and 4T being called (as he could see his landing), Stephane shook his head at the score, no it's not your fault Shoma. And I hope he gets the prep talks of his life by his surroundings!

There are two ways this could lead to, Shoma being on the verve of retiring and motivation for competition is completely lost or Shoma is fired up and rebounds stronger than ever from this disappointment with new fire. As Shoma fans we have seen many ups and downs of Shoma and usually Shoma always came back stronger. Ppl saying that's the end for him after IdF 2019 -he went on to win JNats, ppl saying he is done at WTT 2021 proceeds to win an Olympic medal and World Gold 2022, let's see what happens now...atm a positive way seems impossible but after a few days the world may not seem as dark...

I am truly furious for his 2nd place and petty me who thought I could stand seeing Shoma in 2nd is now completely on skating gods pls let Shoma win all Gold medals from now on as perfect revenge arc 🔥🔥🔥

[theonewhoisnotknown]

hey finally came on here in who knows how long. im bored lol so here’s a story/fanfic idea for good omens. anyone who sees this is free to write from it, I don’t have the energy or motivation to write it myself lol so have fun.

basically 20-50 years pass on and Aziraphale had done everything in his power to delay/stop the second coming. he obviously failed and realized Crowley was right about Heaven. second coming was happening soon (in the next 100 hundred yrs but soon to beings like him).

he’s grown tired mentally/physically/spiritually/everything he is, is exhausted. he’s tried for many years to change, delay, or stop the second coming in hopes of saving the earth. his home. those 20-50 yrs that’s passed on feels like an eternity instead. he never got the chance to actually let himself cry or let out everything he’s been feeling. he hasn’t had anyone to talk to or connect with. even with all the angels in Heaven at his side whenever he needs something done, he never got close with any of them except Muriel.

But even with Muriel he didn’t feel that exposed, he couldn’t be. not when he wasn’t sure it was totally safe. he looks back on his time with crowley both with happiness and extreme pain/hurt. he wants to cry every time he remembers the way they broke up but can’t. not around other Angels, he never rlly gets a moment to himself either.

the only time he’s ever felt safe, happy, and so exposed was with crowley. Crowley could still be on earth so he felt the need to protect it. their earth, their home.

but his excuses and all the effort he’s putting into stopping Heaven seems to be in vain and completely hopeless. they are set in their path for earths destruction. that’s what going to happen and there was no stopping it, not like Armageddon last time. there was nothing he could do.

so he makes a plan for his future. all his energy and motivation to keep going is running out so he wishes for eternal peace. he did everything he could in his mind. he planned to visit crowley one last time as a final goodbye before going to the cosmos and turning into a star.

yes very cheesy but I imagine Aziraphale turning into a star by wrapping himself up in a ball, shutting his eyes as to slumber forever, and then be wrapped up in his warm wings like a blanket. then turning into a star, a ball of light. but he’d shine the brightest out of all the stars, a star u could see at any point from any part of the world.

but this would mean giving up his memories and everything he is. it would be called the angels death (cheesy again ik but I love angst) but he wouldn’t have to have a painful death like putting himself in hellfire.

so in short to stop my ranting he goes into his office one day, cries to himself since he has the chance to, writes a long letter to crowley of all the things he wished he said “I love you” and all that, sees crowley, they both are devastated to see each other again, it’s awkward asf with silence so Aziraphale puts the letter on the table, he states that this is their final meeting, and almost leaves until he’s stopped by crowley, they talk for a bit about everything, Aziraphale says what he’s doing (turning into a star) and that he won’t bother Crowley anymore, and crowley yet again stops him. he’s shocked by that but then sees how worn out Aziraphale looks and feels sm pain from the past/concern for him.

Aziraphale’s like hell no bc that could put crowley in danger but crowley then admitted that if Aziraphale didn’t come today he would’ve probably gotten the courage to drink the holy water he had stored somewhere. they both stand in shock, esp Aziraphale. Crowley looks away.

Aziraphale’s unsure of what to do but crowley wants to leave with Aziraphale or wants to do whatever he wished to do. then they both live in a house in space like in Zathura happy ever after the end. (Ofc not lol if anyone writes a fan fic based off this, make it as angst as possible but also throw in some very sweet/personal moments in there.) also if they do all this, make sure crowley keeps some spare holy water too just in case things go wrong and Aziraphale later finds it, just an extra angst scenario for u to add haha.

now that my rants over this should be more than enough inspo for anyone. have fun and byee

[wack-ashimself]

'Code 46', or as I call it...

"Psychic in the dystopian fascist multicultural future investigates fake passport making, finds the criminal, falls in love with her, frames an innocent man for her crimes, knocks up the criminal 19 years his senior in a one night stand, comes back when his frame job doesn't work, finds out the criminal (cuz she did get some people killed even unintentionally) had a forced abortion AND mind wipe with a virus because they broke code 46 (sharing 50% DNA! She somehow was a clone of his mom...?), then he ditches his completely innocent wife and kid to run off to a shady city with his new love after he breaks her out...the end."

No, not really. The ONLY redeeming part of this shit show was the ending. Everything up to the ending was fucking dumb.

<or the new title: 'Millennium minder reading mother fucker, literally." lmfao>

I'll get to the ending, but this movie was uneasy in a 'who the fuck needed to tell this story?' Like, a dad, happily married (never shows ANY signs otherwise), falls in love with someone, who could be his kid based on age, for a one night stand whom he is attracted to because they share 1/2 the same DNA, because she's a 100% clone of his mom, BUT because she...went thru some shit (they basically say that) she's only 1/2 his mom? WHAT KIND OF FUCKED UP BRAIN NEEDS THIS STORY TO BE TOLD?

You don't understand. I found this by looking for unknown trippy movies. And tho poor ratings, tons of people said this was an 'unknown classic' and a 'great love story.' Tho haters on it said the leads had no chemistry. I would say that they didn't have chemistry AND it's a FUCKED UP LOVE STORY. Like, who gives it all up for a one night stand when he isn't unhappy? Just spur of the moment cheating? I dunno. "They're naturally attracted." HE WAS BORN OF ANOTHER VERSION OF HER VAGINA!

So since I am bitching, I'll say the good parts. Great background and side actors. Set pieces, theme, and shots were perfect. They created a world you genuinely felt surrounded by. There wasn't anything that felt off, ya know? And they had this melting pot of the world. Not just culture, but language. They interwove, smoothly, between so many languages. <And with no captioning because the captions were like 2 minutes further than the movie (never saw anything like it), I had to guess what they were saying, but posture, tone, and facial features actually made me feel like I was learning a few new key phrases in other languages.> And it was consistent with that. Everyone would say the same hellos, goodbyes, and greetings. It was back and forth between one language and another, and not in an unnatural (for the audience) way.

Now back to why it's shit. lol

At the beginning they say 'if you are 25, 50, or 75% DNA match, it is a crime.' So....if we were 77% related, it'd be ok? Why didn't you just say 25% and above? Like, it makes more fucking sense.

They set up this beautiful world (i mean, terrible, but it looked realistic), but never explained a fucking thing. Ever. Why is there worldwide accept fascism? Why clones; I mean, if you monitor who fucks, why are you still cloning? Shouldn't you also be monitoring the cloning more, based on this EXACT situation? How do you control these viruses <it's how he can read minds>? You get extremely limited travel passes; they expire, you're stuck? FOREVER? Like, what? "I'm going for milk honey." Be back in 30 or you're stuck on that side of town for at least a couple weeks...

And they just shrug off how both of the leads are TERRIBLE fucking people. Actually, more the psychic cop than the criminal. The criminal did the passports to help people get to their dreams. People died cuz they didn't prepare for where they were going. Not really her fault. The guy? Cheats, twice. Frames an innocent guy. Lies to everyone. And looks like he EASILY would abandon his kid. For absolutely no god damn reason. His motivations were ALL over the place. Like someone rolling the dice and doing whatever it says. He was inconsistent and selfish. Love story my ass.

So, finally, to my probably 3 people over 5 years that like this, here's the fucking ending that made this shit show decent (cuz I like being surprised, and I was.)

I didn't mention, the female criminal was narrating the whole movie. Never understood exactly how/why. Remember that...

They run. Skeezy hotel. She asks about his family, he tells her, and again shows no fucking remorse like the bitch he is. They try to make love but, WAIT! In addition to wiping her memory, the virus they put in her made her subconsciously NEVER want to have sex with the man who impregnated her again. She fights and squirms like...she's being raped. So....BDSM comes in. I'm fucking serious. Her line? "Make me want to make love to you." UGH. So he ties her up, she screams the whole time, till slowly she just repeats 'I love you.' YOU JUST REMEMBERED HIM! WTF. And you barely knew him before also. Oh and they showed her vagina. Guess I don't look for movies like that, but I swear, I didn't think you could do that rated R. <I thought it was boobs only...but wait, boogie nights showed his dick, right?>

<Anyways, after that, THIS is where I started to like it. And it was funny cuz I saw this moment in the trailer, KNEW it was said, but....didn't put 2 and 2 together.>

Morning. She wakes up like a robot. Marches downstairs. Calls the cops on herself and the man for a code 46 violation, and walks back up to bed and falls asleep. The guy is watching the whole time in shock. Turn out, the virus she was given also forces her to do that after a code 46 (also, WHY not immediately? Why wait till morning?) WHAT!? OMFG! She narc'd on herself! WHAT! Guy spends the rest of his money on a car, and they flee. With the cops hot in tow (in a helicopter, in a desert: they don't have a chance.) They flip the car (tho it was avoidable if they just slowed down for 2 seconds), crash, and are caught.

BUT THAT'S NOT ALL!

Guy is waking up from the accident, criminal narrates that because of his virus to mind read, they think he went haywire. So with other viruses they delete the mind reader virus, delete memories of the girl, and made it look like he solved the case and simply got into a car crash. The WEIRD part of this all? His wife knows EVERYTHING (or at least MOST of it), and just makes out with him and fucks him later at home (which, by the way he touches her, subconsciously, he is still thinking of the criminal). He...he left you and your son.....you're that desperate to get back to what you had? How could you? Cuz, IMO, logically they would let the wife know the basics of the situation if only to make sure those two 'lovebirds' don't ever meet up again. So his wife will forever know what he did; he won't. That's fucked up.

And FINALLY...criminal was banished outside the walls again, but LEFT with her memories (since she can't get into the city). And she was narrating the whole movie cuz the memories of him were the only thing that kept her going...(they, ya know, less than a week they knew each other.)

So that's it.

Worth it, barely, cuz of the special effects, sets, and ending. The rest, including most of Tim Robbins's acting, was kinda like 'well, they got the job done. Not good, but done.'

'Code 46': 5.9/10. <I give these reviews & numbers so you can judge if you wanna watch it>

ps-best part? Hm...can't say fav scene, but most memorable was them, singing terribly, while she's taking a piss. Like...you can't say you see that in every movie. lol Piss singing.

side note: I just think with this universe alone, the fascism, multicultures, and especially those viruses, you could write a whole other fucking movie! I just felt like they ruined their own world with a boring story. Oh, and it's called code 46 cuz of chromosomes. They don't say that in the movie, but I found out while looking into it. Kinda smart.

[aleksa-sims]

RL Simself-Story (18+)

⚠ CW: addiction, drugs, depression

As you can see, my daily morning routine had become a real ordeal for me. Every morning I woke up with terrible fears, that I couldn’t explain exactly? The answer to this, I will soon get in my dreams. Not just my anxiety made life difficult for me, but also the farewell to Philip.💔 😢 Remember how bad I felt when Nico left me?? If so, I don’t have to explain much about how I felt. Just then, I didn’t have to go to work, even though I loved my job at the time. 

Now everything was different and I also had other difficulties, my addiction! This drug just destroyed me. 😔 🤷‍♀️.....Thankfully I had Daniel with me, who took care of me. 💗 💗 I was so ashamed! 😔 I felt totally stupid! Like a defiant baby he had to take care of. But Daniel was so sweet and understanding. That motivated me to face my job and all the everyday tasks, I had so panicked. He himself was not well, too! He’s also struggling with the same damn thing I am. How much our addiction burdened him, I will see at the end of this day. We’ll both go down together...😢 😰

Ma day started at 06:20 a.m. For Daniel, a bit earlier since I had such a hard time getting up in the morning. He knew it will take a while to get me out of bed. So he got dressed & ready to have enough time for me. After Daniel somehow got me out of bed, we sat together on the couch in the living room. I started crying. I couldn’t bear his sad look. He looked at me like I was wrecked. I told Daniel yesterday, that Philip said goodbye to me.😭

Daniel: You can talk to me about him. What exactly happend? 🙁 🤷‍♂️

Me: I don’t want you to think I’d regret it with you. I’d do anything for you! You’re all I ever wanted. I just wish, I’d met you much earlier. Before my heart was so broken.

Daniel: I don’t care, I can handle it! The main thing is we are together! Ily!  You’ll see, soon you’ll be better.....But why are you so sad about Philip? 

Me: He ended our friendship. I’ll never see Philip again! He left me forever.😭 😭

Daniel: I’m so sorry, babe! Maybe you don’t believe me, but I’m really sorry! 😟 I’ll make it up to you, I swear!.... Don’t cry, everything will be fine, but now you have to go to work.

Me: I don’t want to! Please Daniel, leave me at home. 😭 😰 I’m gonna stay here with our kitty and wait for you. I’m not leaving or meeting Sofia.

Daniel: You know we’re a team and I would do anything for you to feel better. But NOW, you have to help me and do what I tell you. I’m not gonna let you lose your job, your education! And besides, that would only worsen our situation.😟 We’re going down slowly! I-....I can’t keep ourselves afloat alone. I need you! 🙁 😔 I don’t want us both to lose everything, because of our fucking addiction! 🤦‍♂️

Me: I hate my life! 😩 😩.....The only thing that matters to me is you! And I’m afraid to lose you.

Daniel: Why? I’m here! I won’t leave.....You told me you were taking antidepressants, but since you moved in with me, I’ve never seen you take any. 😕

Me: I had panic attacks a year ago....But I was afraid to continue taking them, because we are constantly high.

Daniel: You can’t just stop your meds without telling a doc! That’s why you feel so bad now, plus you’re constantly having withdrawal.

Me: Yea....I still have almost a full pack at my parents in my room.

Daniel: After work, we’ll pick up your pills.

Me: I’m so tired! I feel ill every day and I am constantly cold. I don’t want to go out, why don’t you understand me? 😢

Daniel: Please, come with me to the bathroom. Do it for me. I get you have no desire and strength. I’m helping you and I’ll drive you to work and pick you up.🙁

Me: I don’t even know what to wear? Everything overwhelms me! 😩

Daniel: I already picked you something. So don’t worry about it!

Before I went to the bathroom, I did a line. Daniel and I didn’t actually do that before we went to work, but since I wasn’t well, he gave me something. I felt better right away! But I got so high, that I fell asleep in the bathtub and Daniel had to help me out to get dressed.

Me: I am so ashamed...

Daniel: Why? You are so beautiful! Actually, I would like to undress you 😉 but...later! I don’t want to risk you being late.

Me: I’m so useless! 🤦‍♀️ I wonder how long it’s gonna take you to leave me too.

Daniel: All this, I don’t mind! Honestly not!...I see the struggle you're going through but you’re still doing your best. Otherwise you would have stayed in bed. But I don’t care, I just don’t want you to lose everything. And nothing can separate me from you except-.... it’s something I cannot.....influence.

Me: You mean....if something happens to you? 😟

Daniel: Yea. 

Me: I think that’s what scares me. That’s why I don’t want to go out or leave the apartment.

Daniel: We just stay together all the time, so nothing will separate us.

Me: Ok. Ily! 💗

We both felt the same, something bad is going to happen to us. 

In the office I finally met my trainer who was not there for so long. She was totally disappointed with me, because she got wrong information. She thought I didn’t do my job while she wasn’t there. But as you know, nobody told me what I have to do or where my office was actually, which is why I sorted files for Martha and the disgusting Mr. B., wanted me constantly in his office. He saw that I had nothing to do and also let me sort his files. But I was glad about that! He gave me something to do, a task, and he helped me when that stupid Martha attacked me again for NO reason! 😩 When my trainer accused me of not doing my job, I was totally shocked! This was simply not true!! But instead of defending myself, I fell silent. As always, I couldn’t get my mouth open when it was necessary. I was so pissed with myself that I started crying as she left the office. But Mr. B. noticed this and told my trainer that I had worked for him in the last few days. I really thought Mr B. was okay. And yes, that was nice of him. But why Mr. B. became disgusting to me, I tell soon.

Previous / Next

Start

[winterfireblond]

Dearest One

Larissa Weems X Alura (OC) Grim Reaper

TW: Mention of Death (undetailed),etc.

->->-> It's been years since the last time you did a job of collecting a soul from Jericho, Nevermore Academy to be particular. And now your back, but with another grimmer job to do.

A/N: might become a series if motivation comes my way.. English is not my native language so bear with my writing.. Writing this just to fill some gaps in my page.. Took me so long to write something again. (not particularly fond of TW, mention it in the comment incase theres another)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I never thought I'd come back to Nevermore Academy not after the last time, which I'll never forget.

It had been years since I lost contact with Larissa, the beautiful principal who had captivated my heart. Whom I have loved before, and for sure until now. But as a Grim Reaper, my job is to collect souls, and this time, I found out my target was one dear to her.

I don't have a name of whom will I be escorting to the other side until the time comes or the reason of their demise, until their time of death. But I know that this time the soul is from someone she hold dear.

I entered the academy, half-wondering if I'd see her again. My heart leaped when I spotted her in the distance talking to a student. She never changed a bit since the last time I saw her from her window with tears in her eyes. And it was my fault, and I'm ashamed of being the reason for those tears.

She looked up at me, and for a moment, time stood still.

"Alura!" she exclaimed. "Larissa," I said, unable to hide my excitement. "It's been too long." ...

"How about we catch up tonight over dinner?" she suggested. We went to dinner at a nearby restaurant and talked about our lives since we last saw each other. Despite the years that have passed since we last saw each other like it was just yesterday. Our relationship before was complicated since the beginning, as a Grim reaper who travel from place to place and her love for the outcast community that ties her to Nevermore Academy.

As we walked back into the academy grounds after dinner, Larissa suddenly fell silent. "What's wrong?" I asked with concern. "That soul you're here for... it's someone who means everything to me," she said with tears in her eyes.

"Who is it?". I ask, can't utter any more words, suddenly feeling cold from the suspense.

"My daughter," she stated as sniffs escaped from her lips.

I felt sickened suddenly imagining how hard it would be for such an unexpected twist of fate fall on someone so close.

"But how do you know that? I didn't even have a name until the time comes" I ask her, is this some kind of sick joke from my employer? from ABOVE?

"She told me herself, she have the gifts of vision. And, and it never falters since we discovered her gifts" She told me between tears and sobs.

I can't do anything about it, the news itself was like a bomb drop directly at me and bursting me into pieces. Larissa having a child with another, with a man. And I came back to Nevermore to escort her child, whom I was supposed to be caring for if I didn't leave Larissa that day.

I felt suffocated despite the open space where we are standing. I have to leave immediately, I can't bare to see the tears that keep coming from those pretty but sad blue eyes of the person I love.

I silently bid goodbye and turned around knowing what needed to be done next left an impressionable remark on Larissa life forever . It was hard enough collecting souls in Nevermore Academy but ones close to your love interest tore at your endless being each time replaying moments spent together .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Request is open. But pls, know that I'm still practicing to enhance my writing style and all. Apologies for the grammatical errors and spelling mistakes. I don't do proofreading fyi.. <3

[mooshs-crack-headcanons]

Shadow's characterization

Now, this is a subject I've discussed a few times on here but I would like to make it another post going into more detail on the matter and going fully on exactly what made his original character work and why it resignated (at least with me personally) so much and exactly what the fuck Sega has been missing about the certain important aspects of his character since 2006. Yes, 2006.

2001-2006, 5 years, 4 games, and a whole character saga revolving around identity. This was Shadow's peak era and my personal favorite era of any sonic game, yes with a few downsides (06. We'll get there.) but even with a few glaring issues this is the point of time I was personally introduced to Sonic and I couldn't have fallen in love with it any more than that period of time and yes the game with the "edgy" hedgehog with a gun was the catalyst to that.

Anyway, let's break down this character saga game by game. Everything shown in game or just taken from easy subtext and in between lines speculation.

Sonic adventure 2

Shadow the hedgehog is a very angry vengeful person. Being trapped in stasis for 50 years after just watching your best friend, your sister figure, your one person connecting you to humanity - shot down before your very eyes and saving your life from the governmental slaughter by shooting you down to the tiny blue marble you two had always dreamed about going down there before succumbing to her injuries? Yeah that will tend to do it.

He remembers that moment, however, it's only partial of the memory. He remembers before being shot down to earth her making him promise something... but for the love of him he can't piece together entirely what it is - but given context and her being shot down as he dragged her through the halls of the ARK to escape and then ending up in that chamber... it has to be for revenge right? They destroyed everything, they shot her and ultimately made them forever separate without even a proper goodbye? Just felting words of a hazy promise before shooting him down to earth. They - GUN, government agents from that blue marble earth did all this. Humanity did this.

This is the "promise" Maria made him take - is what he convinces himself - this is his mindset for the beginning of the game. Not even a minute after he's awake and is met with Gerald's (and Maria's) kin he's already hatched a motive to go with the Doctor's plan as he sees fit with deeper intentions behind the scenes. Afterall he doesn't care about Ivo's plans to build his "Empire of Eggman" - he just wants to see everything burn.

Then he meets a blue hedgehog.

Sonic has been excused of Shadow's crimes and is on the run from GUN, during the end of his run he meets Shadow who has a Chaos Emerald. Shadow at that moment has the opportunity to potentially just use Chaos Control and teleport away at that very moment but he doesn't, he just stands on top of the mech amused at the inferior blue rodent's words and calls that he's been excused for Shadow's crimes. Then the blue rodent dares to calls Shadow a "fake hedgehog." This strikes a very heavy nerve, and thrashes against a sudden pelt of insecurity. Fake? Him? He could leave right then and there but something deep in him feels the nerve to show this pest off and uses Chaos Control a few times just to show off just how much power the Ultimate Lifeform has over Chaos energy just to make a point who is the ""fake"" one here. Then he leaves Sonic behind to deal with not only the GUN squad that were originally chasing after him during city escape but also the ones trailing Shadow during radical highway with puts him behind bars at Prison Island.

Their second encounter is a bit different than the first - one they actually get to fight instead of Shadow just showing off and Controlling away when the blue blur throws the "fake hedgehog" calling at him - this time it doesn't bother him as much in fact the blue inferior one makes a utter fool of himself with the name calling ("I'll make you eat those words!") however he does in fact very much surprise him with just how well he can keep up - call him surprised even. But the interaction is cut short when the Doctor's radio cuts end with the news the islands about to blow up.

Things in Shadow's mind remain mostly the same at this point on... that is until he gets a call in from the treasure hunter Rouge that she's locked in and stuck with the Chaos Emeralds in the GUN facility security hall that with the rest of the island is about to blow up.

This is the first moment out of three distinct moments his facade begins to break down.

Up to the point him and Rouge have only had very few interactions with one another. Yes, their both working with the Doctor for very both different reasons but... while she may be a thief and he has suspicions that she may be a government spy he's heard of passing she doesn't deserve to just die as gruesome like this. Maria didn't either. He isn't sure why exactly in those moments he makes that comparison but once he did his mind just clicks and his feet are already moving as he curses himself that this might bite him back in the ass if that bat woman is actually a spy.

After the fact he tells himself he did it for the emeralds - not out of compassion. Hell he even tells Rouge this when she comes to confront him about it. But deep down they both know the truth. It's both kept unsaid but Rouge is very much grateful for this save and this with fuel their loyality Team Dark dynamic in upcoming sections.

The second crack happens when he runs into that blue hedgehog again, Sonic, for the third time. It's much different from the last two times - less insecure than the first encounter, less prideful and arrogant than the second, no this time Shadow's more... curious of his rival. He didn't die in the capsule, he used a fake emerald to Chaos Control, there's more to him but exactly what? What the hell is he? "Just a guy that loves adventuring." What the hell does that even mean? He isn't sure. But it sticks with him.

The third crack in his facade comes when the Eclipse Canon is on track for earth. He did it. He fulfilled his promise to her. He watches out the same window where he and Maria used to stare out into space and daydream about what it would be like on the blue marble below. He did it, while he is more than sure he'll die as well in the extinction level impact but that's okay to him. He fulfilled his promise... that's all that should matter, right? But something still feels... off. He isn't sure what that is until a pink hedgehog comes into the room.

Amy of course mistook him for Sonic during their first meeting but not this time. Everyone is doing so much and she knows she has to do her part too however she can.. she pleas him for his help knowing how strong he is and talks to him about how she knows there is good in people, humanity, and that saving them is the good and right thing to do if he only can give them a chance to. Her words sound so familiar to Shadow the further he searches to remember from where.

Then he remembers - the fog from his last moments with Maria fade away and he remembers word for word the promise she made him take. Not revenge on those who took her away from him. A better feature. A better feature for all those on that blue marble they spent their days gazing down at, the purpose she told him he was made for. To make people happy.

It's an earth shattering revelation.

Everything he's done up to this point has been devastatingly wrong, he has to make up for it. And he promises both Maria and Amy that as he runs out the room. Make this right.

Live and learn.

This is exactly what Shadow does, his super transformation is visible personification of his swoop of redemption. At the start he was so angry and vengeful all for the loss of his sister and wanted the whole world to burn because of it, his justification placed on mis misremembered probably brought due to his 50 year stasis. Now he fights side by side with his rival to take on his prototype - the Biolizard, what was originally supposed to be him - taking his past in a way head on.

With the Biolizard defeated then all that's left is the ARK that is still falling on course to Earth.

Gerald Robotnik made this plan in his grief for Maria before he was executed, what was supposed to be against the Black Arms he turned to humanity. This plan that Shadow also in his grief was more than ready to let go through. Now he was stopping it, he knows now it's exactly what Maria wouldn't have wanted - the opposite in fact. As the ARK falls further and further he and Sonic struggled to prevent it from continuing it's course and then in one burst of Chaos energy Shadow teleports the whole thing far away from earth. With consequences.

Sonic reaches out to try to save him as he falls (we know from one of the past Twitter takeovers) but is to late as Shadow shutters out of super form as all the energy being too much to handle leaves his body and he plummets to earth. But he's okay with it, unlike that moment in the window room where he had thought revenge was Maria's promise when he felt off and unfilled, here he doesn't. Here he feels he made the right choice and his actual promise fulfilled.

That's what makes Shadow a redeemed character.

But as we know that doesn't end his story, and while the choice to bring him back and seemingly erase his mentioned redemption is controversial to some fans. I don't think entirely so, mostly because exactly the set up the next game brings.

-

Sonic Heroes

After SA2 and pre Heroes is a very foggy blurry period. However, given a certain subject in the next section I think to a certain degree it works. For now that's important is to first establish the Shadow in this game IS the Shadow from SA2, Eggman literally confirms it in the final fight of the Shadow 05 game but this is something we'll come back to but what's important to remember this IS the real same Shadow from SA2.

Shadow is freed by Rouge from one of Eggman's bases and was guarded by E-123 Omega, who has spite for Eggman for trapping him in here for all this time. This creates the (family) Team Dark.

Shadow has amnesia - this is very important to note - with absolutely no memory of what or who he is or anything that happened in the previous game. He is a blank slate and his motivation for this game is to find out exactly who he is.

But Rouge knows who he is! Kind of... going off the little time see got to know him and exactly what all the government files said about project Shadow, but most of that was about the Biolizard so it isn't exactly much help there anyway. However, Rouge is still very appreciative of Shadow saving her from the explosion on the island and given he's straight up supposed to be dead right now she's more than willing to help her friend out and get behind all this mess for some answers and now they have a trigger happy robot to accompany them and help them out as they all set out for Eggman.

Sonic Heroes given it's a game revolving around four teams which each of their own campaigns, each story campaign unsurprisingly isn't as fleshed out as it could be so of course Shadow doesn't really get to say all that much in the game, however but probably unintentional, that works. Like I said Shadow here while bits of personality does peak through at times he's just seems... lost. And given context, again, I think that works. He's a blank slate, confused, zero idea who or what the hell he is... and this becomes more ever impactful once his major conflict comes up.

The Shadow Androids.

Now a lot of people hate them, I get it. But they do have purpose and they leave the ending if this Shadow we play as in this game is real or not (REMEMBER THIS I'M COMING BACK TO IT LATER) Now, given Eggman's confirmation in the 05 game and the Twitter takeover question it confirms either way the Shadow we have right now in canon IS the one from SA2 so he DID survive and that's why the one in Heroes IS the one from SA2 and while we do know this still that just a period of time post SA2 pre heroes of after Shadow fell is still... hazy and could definitely be touched more upon. (Maybe a future movie might cover it 👀)

But the Shadow Androids kick off what I call the "Identity crisis arc" in Shadow's story. The question in heroes is never answered at least in that game and the rest of Heroes story doesn't matter with the other team's campaigns its the fact this identity crisis AND his memory loss pin points in this game is the most important part of this game when it comes to Shadow's development.

-

Shadow the hedgehog 2005

There is an important fact about this game I can't stress enough:

The last story and it's ending with The. Cg. Animated. Ending. Is. The. Canon. One.

The one Sega PURPOSEFULLY put more money on to animate? THAT ONE IS THE ONLY ONE THAT MATTERS TO CANON.

The other endings? And how you get to them I see them as hypotheticals.

People go on and on about Shadow's character in THIS game with the different endings being very inconsistent. THERE SUPPOSED TO BE. THEY'RE DIFFERENT ALLIGNMETS AND OUTCOMES.

This game builds off the fact Shadow is a fucking blank slate for his character given his amnesia in heroes that its your choices and how you play the game effect his character and how he molds to be who he is with each different ending you get. ITS ON PURPOSE FOR THE ALIGNMENT MECHANIC.

Everyone hates the Shadow Androids endings and this is why I call them "hypotheticals" right now in canon its confirmed Shadow is the same Shadow from SA2, but the Shadow Android endings are clearly IF the Shadow from heroes was an Android. Making it - say it with me - a hypothetical. It's not canon. None of the endings except the fancy one with the fancy animation of a HERO ENDING are canon therefore they should not matter in the scheme of Shadow's portrayal. Only the canon one should.

Sorry this argument gets me heated, anyway.

Shadow works perfectly as how he was at the ending of Heroes - confused who and what he is with only flashes of memories now here and there. Then suddenly the sky turns dark and a shadowy alien claiming to know who he is appears out of nowhere and offers to tell him if he gets the chaos emeralds for him. Is it a foolish decision? Probably. But he has no other choice but to follow this guy because he's that desperate to learn about his past and himself.

Then, following the canon ending, he does slowly and slowly relearn who he is and further learning details about his Black Arms heritage and further about his creation. He relearns about Maria and the true promise they made.

The CG ending is basically SA2's all over again - except this time he can overcome it on his own and this time he comes to let go of everything holding onto him of the past and live for the future, a better future he's determined to make himself and seeing Maria's promise through as he uses his full power of his super to stop the comit.

Is it somewhat a rehash of his redemption in SA2? Maybe. But I think it's proof that no matter what there is good in Shadow that wants to fight for the side of humanity - no matter how many times he looses his memory or whatever of the sort always he'll eventually find his way back to its defense even if he stumbles back into the "dark" a bit. And that's an extremely important part of Shadow's character.

-

Sonic 2006

Bet you weren't expecting to see this?

If there's one good this 06 did, one thing at all, it would be Team Dark's story. And unfortunately this is the last of Shadow's character development that isn't.... "modern" Shadow.

Shadow is working for GUN, which in of itself is a development but however given circumstances in 06 (this one I'm less memorized on and refuse to replay it so stay with me here)

Mephiles forms himself to look in Shadow's image and tries to convince Shadow to join his side, using the information Shadow becomes a large threat in the future and believes to have awaken Iblis (which is also fueled by the... shenanigans Shadow got up to in the 05 game if I remember correctly) as fuel for his convincing and to "take revenge" but Shadow sees through it immediately, stating even if the world fought against him he would still fight to protect it - while he let go the bitterness of his past he still is determined to keep his true promise to Maria in protecting humanity.

After all of this new information comes to light, Omega is tasked to "stabilize him". This is certainly... for Shadow and Team Dark but Shadow brushes it off saying he'll fight like he always has and Rouge pops in saying she'll stick by his side no matter what happens (true family goals) and while he doesn't say it out loud he acknowledges it and you can tell it means a lot to him.

And my God just the scene where he fucking absolutely wrecks the hoard of Mephiles' after taking of his Inhibitor rings is one of the most fucking hype cutscene fights I've ever seen in a video game and just... how he and Team Dark carrying themselves in it - hell in this entire game - is just one of the most satisfying things to see and you can practically FEEL their comradry.

It really sucks this is one of the last truly good moments we have of all of them together being truly well written, for the rest of the game and the rest of the series to this day.

And sadly given the context of the ending of 06 you can sadly forget about this last section with the whole erasing of time where the whole game didn't happen thing... it's very unfortunate given Shadow and Team Dark's story was like one of maybe a very very few things good about this game.

-

Conclusion

Shadow is a complex character that goes through three character arcs: his grief to his redemption in SA2, his identity crisis and learning exactly who/what he is (both literally and figuratively) and how he comes to accept and move past his trauma in Heroes and the 05 game, and finally from 06; his dedication thrive to his new purpose in maintaining his promise - he doesn't want to be a hero or a villain, he just wants to keep his promise to his sister with doing the right thing and protecting and defending the future of humanity no matter what it takes or what opinion humanity, what he's promised to protect, has on him.

And even with the events of 06 erased, he still has that motivation deep down, it's just Sega that's ignoring it with their bullshit outdated "sonic bible" or whatever. He's not some edgy bullshit rival character, he's had his character development and is no longer the angry vegenful person that looked down on humanity that he was at the beginning of SA2 - and he's not the lost in identity crisis he was in heroes/05 game either - Sonic 06 did a lot of hurt to this franchise both in and out but honestly? If there's ever a good way to look to where Shadow's character should at bare minimum be working off of its from who is was at the end (of his story anyway) of Sonic 06. He's not the type of person to claim himself to be a hero and most definitely not a villain, he just wants to do the right thing and protect the world that Maria loved so much and maybe have a bit of fun with back and forth rivalry with a certain blue hedgehog to keep him busy here and there from time to time.

He's been through a lot and has transformed as a person, I just wish Sega would see that. Not whatever the fuck they wrote him in Boom or in Forces.

Maybe movie 3 with help fix this.

[buzzbcuzz]

So. um. my singing monsters. au. fanfiction. im gay guys.

ive been having this au for a while now but seeing other msm au's (PLUSHII AND BEAR IM LOOKING RIGHT AT YALL /POS) gave me the motivation and inspiration to finally put my gay creatures on the internet

anyway its called Hideaway

this is part one ig jbfdsjsosj

"Oh shit. Oh shit. Shit shit shit shit shit fuck shit piss. Fuck. Shit."

The peacefulness of plant island was obsolete at this point. The reason why? Monopoly. It was a strange practice introduced by humans in their more recent comings to the realm of the Monstrous. The strange hairless creatures had brought a lot of suffering, but new joys were discovered as well. This was not one of them.

"Dixxie you piece of shit. YOU LANDED ON MY GODDAMN PROPERTY. GIVE ME THE FUCKING MONEY DIPSHIT." Auro, an epic furcorn who was clearly not having good luck in this round, was ranting about how Dixxie wasn't following the rules of the game. The shrubb was obviously not listening. "Auro, that counts as mugging me you know," she said with a smug grin. "NO IT FUCKING DOESN'T??? WHAT ??" Auro was making a scene about how he was about to flip the board, to the annoyance of the others, when a voice stopped them.

"Guys, can you please uh, be quieter? I keep getting startled by your yelling and it's messing up my work and--"

"Shut the fuck up Ricky. Do your work someplace else, I'm too busy getting fucking mugged by Auro."

"STOP FUCKING SAYING THAT, I WILL BITE YOU."

"Ahem: Nuh uh."

"Uhh.. O-okie dokie then. Yeah. ...Goodbye."

Ricky decided it wasn't a good idea to stay in the commotion. Just the thought of staying there made him more anxious and made his face reflexively wince. It's funny that humans believe the concept that 4-element monsters are the commanders or rulers of their home islands. And then, we have Ricky. Entbrats are usually loud, obnoxious, confident, and not always the brightest of the bunch. But Ricky was the opposite from his peers. A socially anxious but highly intelligent monster. He walked and walked for what felt like forever, past corner stores, a hospital, and a school. His cabin was small, but it was his little world. This was what he saw when he isolated himself from the other monsters. It was safe here. It was warm, and comforting, along with the fact that he could conduct his studies in peace. What did he even study? Who fucking knows. Some nerdy science biology fucking shit. Fucking nerd. Fucking goober. He had just sat down when something struck his mind.

Usha!

He needed to feed his pet bird. The plant island critters need to eat a lot to survive with their small, frail bodies. And Usha in particular was very, very fussy when she was hungry. The critters are also just loud and chaotic in general. It's a wonder how he even managed to tame one and convince her to stay with him. He didn't like the human concept of keeping your pet companions in cages and confining them, so she just sort of hung out in his house, free to fly around in any room she wanted. Speaking of which, where was she?

"Usha! Here!"

Silence.

"Well then."

He poured a portion of various flower seeds from a paper bag into a small tin and shook it for a few seconds. Sure enough, the small bird zoomed towards him at the familiar sound. He placed the tin down on the side of his work table, where Usha quickly followed. He sat down and opened one of his textbooks, setting his notepad next to it. A few hours passed by. After a while, the words became blurred and the letters seemed to move in on each other. His body felt as if he was melting into his chair, and he rested his head in his hand, putting his elbow on the table.

-Well, I don't see any harm in closing my eyes for a few minutes...-

He shut his eyes and set his pen down, his papers a jumbled mess. His knee stopped bouncing, and after a short time the entbrat was asleep. Usha perched on his shoulder, ruffling herself in the warmth of his oddly fluffy leaves. The moon looked down on its world. The clock read "1:27 AM." Tomorrow was a new day.

[bluestarfangs]

I'm looking for beta readers for my fanfics, so here is a chapter of my Alice in Borderland fic, Stars, We Wish Upon that I had uploaded on AO3. The fanfic will have some mature themes so there's your warning. I think it might stretch on, hell even i don't know for how long the fic will go. The fanfic has Arisu x Usagi pairing (i love those two). So, for demo you can read the below chapter. On how to do this fanfic beta reader thing, let's figure it out.

1. Prologue

“I’m surprised you gave up so easily.”

The room remained completely dark, silence bouncing off the space around them. It was difficult for someone with a sane mind to figure out how tall the room was or even if it stretched on for miles. Then, a chuckle was heard.

“I would be lying if I say I wasn’t trying my best,” She still had her ghost smile, a flicker of blood stain on her neck. “He was almost close to defeat. He was easy to manipulate for a ‘Hearts’ player.”

“But you got defeated.”

She nodded her head dreamily. “More like, they proved worthy enough to win the game.”

“I don’t think I have ever heard you talk about any other player like that.”

She smiled. “Well, if you have been here as long as I have, people slowly turn from living breathing bodies to mere dots moving around the Borderlands.”

“So, what made you lose?”

She thought back to the moment she had seen. The fiery glare she had received by her, trying to protect him even though she was on the verge of death. After years of having studied the human mind and the people around her, nothing ever happened out of the ordinary. Humans were capable of feeling emotions. And that’s what makes them vulnerable to manipulation. So, she wasn’t surprised when she saw the glass shard in her hand, piercing her skin due to the tight grip.

Such a display of emotions unfazed her. Until . . .

‘You promised you'd protect me, no matter what’

‘I want to feel your hand. Just one more time. . .’

“A beautiful act of love.”

The air was filled with a burst of foreign laughter. “If I hadn’t known you, then your words might have felt like a joke.”

She remained silent. The warm sunset’s rays fell on his face, his eyes cleared away with the illusion she had put them in. Never had she felt such overwhelming emotions. She could feel herself close to tears, a true act of love in front of her.

“Leave that, we can discuss my ultimate failure later,” She still had her smile on. “Tell me, what choice did they make?”

A thoughtful hum was heard as if drowned in thought. “What do you think? What choice could have they made?”

She let out a chuckle, void of any signs of forced action. She looked up, the dark room slowly getting filled with light.

She knew that after making her final choice, she would either forever be here, toying with those who attempted to leave or be killed by that one player who could be worthy of it. There weren’t any regrets. No painful goodbyes. No stable allies, friends or lovers. That is what the Borderlands reduced each citizen to.

“I feel like one game would be enough for them,” Speaking them out loud felt different. “To understand what life truly is and the answer they are looking for.”

“What type of a game would you have wanted to play then?”

“It doesn’t hurt much to play a Hearts’ game.” She smiled, void of any alter motives. “By the way, you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Don’t tell me the laser also knocked out your logical mind.” Sarcasm was always their speciality.

This was it. Her role in the games had ended, and now it was time to leave.

“Well, it would have been a waste of such an act had they decided to stay here,” She could already feel her existence slowly getting wiped away. “But then again, what guarantee do they have that they would even meet again?”

“That’s up to them to decide.”

This was it.

“Life is a mystery, even a hell one wants an escape from. But maybe, the ultimate solution to your life might just be around the corner. In the places you visit. In the memories you share. In the small things you desire.”

'Game on.'

‘I won’t forfeit the game.’

“So, hang in there now, won’t you?”