#i like both foolishness and torturing my characters so something is up

[gotchaocha]

Ughh stuck on writing a scene again 

On the bright side, I already got 3 chapter of the possible-novel written! 

I try not to think about the fact that I´m trying to write a nove because I feel like understanding the long ass path of trying to acomplish such a thing will stop me from trying in the first place. You know normal stuff

[little-diable]

"Angel" He calls me – Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)

Listen, this is fucked up – even I was unsure where this came from. But I ain't sorry for it, I know y'all will love this, you filthy heathen (i love you). Shamelessly inspired by the song "The Fruits" by Paris Paloma. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Her mother accuses the reader of preparing a satanic ritual, so she hopes that Priest Riddle can free the young girl from the devil's grasp. What a shame that the young priest is even more cunning than the Devil himself.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, smut in a church, heavy dub!con, choking, wax play, blood play, Tom being Tom, religious connotations

Pairing: Priest!Tom Riddle x fem!reader (about 2k words)

My love, are you the devil? I would worship you instead of him, I have no time for confession, for I'm too busy committing sins

“Priest Riddle!” Her mother’s shrill voice echoed through the empty church, repeated with every further step she took. (Y/n) struggled against her mother’s grasp, feet dragged along the cold ground as if she prayed that the floor would open up, that something or someone would crawl from the eternal darkness to hold onto her, rescue her from the hell she would experience any moment now. “Priest Riddle!”

The tall man appeared after another loud call of his name, concern tugged on his features, a facade her mother instantly seemed to buy into; a facade (y/n) instantly saw through. Priest Riddle was a devilish handsome man, a man so handsome he easily fooled those who clung to him, distracting them from his sinful character. 

“Mathilda, (y/n), what is going on?” His bright eyes carried concern as he looked at (y/n)’s mother, concern that changed into something dark the second his gaze found (y/n)’s. Her mother’s torture was nothing against what he’d do to her, that much she was certain of after all those confessions she had been forced through – confessions that had ended with her knees having a carpet burn, with her ass bruised, and her jaw pulsing in pain from being stretched open. 

“She’s gone insane, I’ve found her worshipping the devil! He has his dark grasp on her, oh you have to free my girl, you’re my only chance of finding help for her sinning soul, Father!” Tears dripped from her mother’s eyes, tears (y/n) silently cursed. She had done no such thing, all she had done was read a book Priest Riddle had borrowed her, one of the few interests both shared – Latin prayers her mother had mistaken for satanic rituals as (y/n) had tried to pronounce the words. 

For a second, he studied (y/n), the annoyance she couldn’t shake, the wide pupils he had grown all too used to, feeling his cock twitch in his trousers at the excitement now thumping through his veins. “Leave her with me, Mathilda. She’s in good hands. I’ll take care of our girl.”

"Angel“ he calls me, does he know that I'm falling from a precipice that I tripped off long ago?

“Rituals, huh?” Her mother had left the church seconds ago, leaving the two of them behind. (Y/n)’s skin prickled, she was fighting against the need to scream, to throw a tantrum against her mother’s foolish behaviour. All because of him. 

“This is your fault! She heard me read that prayer book of yours.” Within seconds he stood in front of her, ringed hand wrapped around her throat. Her heart was pounding, blood rushing through her veins, he could feel (y/n)’s fast pulse against his fingertips, a sensation that left the man smirking. 

“My fault?” The way he spoke the words, with a voice so raspy and deep, (y/n) didn’t manage to stop her body from reacting, her thighs from trembling and her walls from clenching around nothing. For a few moments, neither of them spoke, all they did was stare at one another. “My fault, really, (y/n)?”

“I,” her words got stuck in her throat as he squeezed, cutting off her strength to pronounce any words. Priest Riddle always enjoyed silencing her, showing her how much power he held over her. (Y/n) was shoved backwards as he let go of her, watching her fall onto the stone stairs leading up to the altar. 

“You see, (y/n), your mother may think I’m the saving grace, the voice of reason, but I think you know better, don’t you? There is no saving left for you, no grace I can give you. The Devil would have tried to save you, what a shame that I’m not him.” Angry tears welled up in her eyes, tears that began to drip as a laugh clawed through him. There was no escaping him, no matter how much her mind begged her to run, to never return to these unholy walls, her body craved his touch, desperate for everything he could offer. 

“Undress, lay down on the altar, for me.” It took (y/n) a second to snap into motion, to undo the buttons of her dress with shaky fingers. Not once did her glassy eyes leave his frame, not as she stood naked, not as she slowly heaved herself onto the altar, not as she watched him alight the red candle placed next to the Holy Bible.

“Do you remember what John teaches us, (y/n)? He tells us: Whoever makes a practice of sinning is of the devil, for the devil has been sinning from the beginning. But tonight you will sin, tonight you will offer yourself to the devil, even though he will never have you. He fears me, and he will fear my precious toy once I’m done with you.”

“In nomine Patris et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.” He was standing behind the altar, with his ringed fingers holding onto the burned candle. (Y/n) was forced to watch him tilt the candle, letting the wax drip down onto the valley between her naked breasts. She hissed at the sensation, torn between excitement and fear, and yet she craved more. 

“Princeps gloriosissime caelestis militiae, sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in proelio adversus principes et potestates, adversus mundi rectores tenebrarum harum, contra spiritalia nequitiae, in caelestibus.” Priest Riddle’s voice didn’t carry any emotion as he spoke the lines of the prayer to Saint Michael, a prayer used in exorcisms, a prayer he used to mock her now. The candle kept dripping, one by one the drops of wax marked her body, leaving (y/n) moaning as his cold hand joined the wax, touching her hardening nipples with a smirk growing on his lips. 

“Veni in auxilium hominum, quos Deus ad imaginem similitudinis suae fecit, et a tyrannide diaboli emit pretio magno. Te custodem et patronum sancta veneratur Ecclesia; tibi tradidit Dominus animas redemptorum in superna felicitate locandas.” No longer did (y/n) try to keep her moans bottled in, she arched her back off the altar as he added more strength to his touch, tweaking her nipples as the wax dripped onto her stomach. It felt as if he was making an offering, sacrificing (y/n) for the sins they had committed together, giving her up for his eternal salvation. 

“Deprecare Deum pacis, ut conterat Satanam sub pedibus nostris, ne ultra valeat captivos tenere homines, et Ecclesiae nocere. Offer nostras preces in conspectu Altissimi, ut cito anticipent nos misericordiae Domini, et apprehendas draconem, serpentem antiquum, qui est diabolus et Satanas, et ligatum mittas in abyssum, ut non seducat amplius gentes. Amen.” The last drop of wax fell as Priest Riddle ended the prayer, tossing the blown-out candle aside to press his lips against (y/n)’s. Both moaned in unison as her fingers began to work on his belt, needing to free his cock with the silent hope that he’d fuck her on the altar spurring her on. 

He twitched in her grasp, a sensation so familiar, she found herself relaxing, giving her mind a few seconds to relax. Seconds he used to study her with danger laced in his gaze, danger that deepened as her eyes were drawn to his throat, watching him rip his silvery necklace from his neck. The necklace twinkled in the dim light, momentarily entrancing (y/n) as if she was studying a rare gem, an offering only God would make. 

“We have been bound together for months, you are my possession, and you will do as I say, you will let me lead you till I no longer think you’re worthy of my time.” He tightened his grasp on his necklace, and without another warning, he ran the sharp edge of the cross along his skin, instantly drawing blood. Blood so red, it looked like sacred wine, richer than Jesus’ blood, more powerful than any other offering.

He wiped his bleeding thumb along her lips, letting her taste the copper staining her skin like a tattoo made for eternity. They held eye contact as she parted her lips, letting her tongue lick his skin clean, unable to stop her moan from clawing out of her. She was nothing but a toy, someone he used to pass time with, someone to fuck whenever his body called for excitement – and she loved it, every fucked up second of their time together. 

Priest Riddle let go of her to position himself between her thighs, his fingertips dug into her skin as he wrapped her legs around his waist. Soon he’d fuck her, soon he’d remind her that she was his – his only. 

You're faithless, for you pitched me, against your holy father and it seems that I am winning

Without giving (y/n) any chance to prepare herself, he pushed into her, forcing his cock into her tightness. Her arousal allowed him to move without any struggles, moving as if their bodies had been made for one another. In some fucked up way she could have found something romantic in this, claimed in a church for all holy and unholy eyes to see, but the darkness he emanated was enough to keep her from thinking these thoughts. 

Months ago when this had happened for the first time, (y/n) had been frightened, not knowing what the man would do to her. But after the first of many orgasms had wrecked through her, she had felt like Judas, the backstabber, the liar she had been turned into. No longer held back by the fear of sinning, rather giving in – all for the promise of being punished by Priest Riddle. 

“Even the devil wouldn’t take you in, a soul filled with sins that even He would turn his back on. I’m your only rescue.” He panted his words as he buried himself deep inside of her, eyes staring down at her. Without stopping his movements, his hips from snapping against hers, he pushed the cross past her lips, forcing her to hold it between her teeth. (Y/n) could still taste his blood – heightening her senses as her walls fluttered around him. 

She hated herself for enjoying this, for being at his mercy with her legs spread and her back arched. He only spoke the truth, he was her only chance of guidance, the only one to cling to as the others had left her behind, engulfed in darkness. Her saving grace, the poison she was addicted to, the bruising grasp she couldn’t shake. 

“Cum for me, show them that there is no chance of rescuing you from me.” With the cross held between her teeth, she moaned for him. (Y/n)’s orgasm wrecked through her, leaving her shaking and panting beneath him. But the priest kept moving, searching his own high with his fingertips digging into her skin. 

A heavy moan rumbled through Priest Riddle as he came, imprinting himself on her walls without giving her a warning. Once again marked by the man who called her his own property, once again marked by the devil’s most brutal brother. 

“I need you on your knees, it’s time to beg for His forgiveness, (y/n).” 

……

Translation of the Latin prayer: 

St. Michael the Archangel, illustrious leader of the heavenly army, defend us in the battle against principalities and powers, against the rulers of the world of darkness and the spirit of wickedness in high places.

Come to the rescue of mankind, whom God has made in His own image and likeness, and purchased from Satan's tyranny at so great a price.

Holy Church venerates you as her patron and guardian. The Lord has entrusted to you the task of leading the souls of the redeemed to heavenly blessedness.

Entreat the Lord of peace to cast Satan down under our feet, so as to keep him from further holding man captive and doing harm to the Church.

Carry our prayers up to God's throne, that the mercy of the Lord may quickly come and lay hold of the beast, the serpent of old, Satan and his demons, casting him in chains into the abyss, so that he can no longer seduce the nations. Amen.

[hihello-pinky]

Sight (6)

Suna Rintarou x F! Reader

Sometimes, it takes losing someone to finally see them. He wished he knew this before, but Rintaro had to learn this the hard way.

Genre: Angst, Romance, Hurt/Comfort

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and in no way represents my views of the original anime/manga characters.

WARNINGS: fluff, angst, explicit smut (unprotected, rough sex) -> lmk if i missed anything

Word Count: 6k+

Finally, an update! Thank you for staying with this fic despite my very slow updates. There might be 2-3 parts left before the end; depends on your answer to my question at the end of this chapter! haha (wink, wink)

Kindly reblog, like, and/or leave a comment if you loved this chapter and let me know what you think! xoxo

part one ༘⋆ part two ༘⋆ part three ༘⋆ part four ༘⋆ part five

kofi for tips 💌 ~~

˚✧₊⁎⁎⁺˳✧༚ - - - ˚✧₊⁎⁎⁺˳✧༚

Twenty-five days.

Suna Rintarou swears he isn’t keeping track, but his stupid brain screams the number at him. It’s been twenty-five days of torture - his mind plagued with thoughts of wanting to kiss you.

Kiss you, kiss you, kiss you, kiss you, kiss you.

He’s had the urge in the past but all of those times were out of the haze of sexual intimacy. His current dilemma, which began 25 days ago, is something else.

It had been a mundane Saturday morning. The kids were already up and engrossed in the TV show they both loved so much. Suna was in the kitchen, trying to be of help as you prepared breakfast.

The menu for that day was sunny side-ups paired with hotdogs. You were trying to show him how to perfectly crack eggs open when he moved to stand beside you to look closer. Your hand slipped, spoon cracking against the egg and he laughed. You moved to chastise him and in turn, the egg white from the cracked shell plopped against him.

With widened eyes, you gasped and then, backed with a barely contained giggle, apologized to him. The sound of your laughter was sweet and the way your eyes turned into little crescents tugged at Suna’s heart.

At that moment, he badly wanted to kiss you - to feel your laughter through your lips.

Now, he finds himself at the balcony of your bedroom, eyes turned towards the moonless sky with a lollipop in his mouth. Through the open door, he can hear the faint sound of the shower and he groans, urging his mind to not stray towards other thoughts.

He feels foolish with these emotions that you’re bringing out of him. Granted, they’re not unfamiliar, but it’s been several years since he’s had these feelings. And truth be told, Suna never thought he’d feel this way again: wanting to love someone.

He knows what he’s feeling for you is more than just platonic. But Suna is also pretty sure that he isn’t in love with you.

Yet.

“Rin?” Your voice breaks him out of his thoughts. “Would you mind closing the door? The breeze is coming through.” He sees that you’re now done with your shower, robe wrapped around your body with a towel in your hand.

He bites off the remaining lollipop and chucks the stick at the small bin by the balcony. Shortly after, he joins you in the room but not before making sure the door is securely locked behind him.

The smell of your green-apple hair conditioner hits him almost immediately. It’s a scent he has ignored for years but now that he’s free from his pride to admire every little thing about you, he basks in the scent. He then makes his way to the vanity. “Do you need help drying your hair off?”

Your curious eyes meet his through the mirror and after a few slow blinks, you nod. He takes over the towel and you open a drawer to bring out the dryer.

For a few moments, your eyes watch him work with the towel, gently squeezing clumps of your hair for the last drops of water possible. Then, before passing the hair-blower to him, you say, “You’re gonna end up with cavities given all the candies and lollipops you’ve been having.”

“They’re working, though,” he replies. “I haven’t smoked in over a month.”

You smile at him. “I’m so proud of you.” And then, as if deciding on what to say next, you add, “I wish there is another alternative so you won’t have to take too much sweets.”

Maybe it’s the proud look on your face. Maybe it’s the way your lips pucker out in a cute pout. Or maybe, he’s just so tired of counting the days.

Finally, Suna says, “What about a kiss?”

The way your eyes immediately widen is almost comical. “W-what?”

Suna only laughs as he takes the hair dryer from you, the brief skin contact making you blush. He shakes his head, smiling. “Nothing.”

“Huh?” you try to turn around so you’re face to face but he places a hand on your shoulder.

“Stay still.”

“But…”

“Y/N. Let’s dry your hair first, okay?”

˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚ ˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚

Drying one’s hair is supposed to take around five to ten minutes only, but after Rintarou’s question, it feels like it’s taking an hour. It’s not helping that he’s standing so close to you, hands gently drying your hair, warmth radiating from his body.

Once finished, you immediately turn on the seat. “Rin.”

“Y/N.”

The question comes to the tip of your tongue but never leaves your mouth. You bite your lip instead and avoid eye contact. “N-nevermind.”

As you try to stand, Rintarou stops you. “You’re cute when you blush, did you know that?”

You don’t answer, knowing full well that his remark only made your already flushing cheeks redden even more.

Suna sighs before cupping your cheek tenderly, urging you to look at him. Once your eyes meet his, he rubs a gentle circle on your skin. “I want to kiss you.”

It feels like your heart is beating a hundred miles per minute. Did you hear him correctly? He wants to kiss you? Suna Rintarou, the man who never kissed you in the five years you’ve been married? Suna Rintarou, the man who didn’t bother to kiss you on your wedding day?

I want to kiss you.

A lot of things have changed in the past months but still, Suna manages to surprise you. You feel like a teenager navigating romance for the first time again.

Another gentle rub on your cheek brings you back to the present, where Suna is saying he wants to kiss you. “Well? Are you going to allow me to kiss you, Y/N?”

Your only response is a meek nod to which Suna shakes his head. “I want you to say it. Tell me that you want me to kiss you.”

He never once breaks eye contact as he says those words. The urge to look away is so strong, for you feel like the longer you stare into Suna’s eyes, all the emotions inside of you will break out. Burst into a bubble that would consume you. It’s going to be cool, but suffocating.

Instead, your eyes remain on him, trying to decipher if there’s any ill-intentions in them.

You only see sincerity… and pained longing. As if every minute you’re not asking him to kiss you is bringing him immense pain.

But kissing him… it’s going to be a big step in your relationship. Granted, the two of you have been sleeping with each other again. But kissing is an entire thing different from sex. You’ve never kissed during sex before. Kissing him now would mean…

Rin doesn’t speak with words, but the way his thumb grazes your cheek once more tells you that he’s waiting. Finally, you decide to pocket the fears you have about kissing him. “Kiss me, Rin.”

He exhales in relief as he leans down and the distance between your lips get smaller and smaller and smaller and you get the sweet taste of his strawberry lollipop from earlier.

˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚ ˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚

Goodbye, 25 days. Suna thinks to himself that night, as you lay sleeping beside him.

It’s just a kiss, but he can’t stop himself from feeling warm at the memory of your lips against his.

It’s just a kiss, but he feels like he’s on top of the world.

It’s just a kiss, but when he finally falls asleep that night, a stupid smile is on his face.

˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚ ˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚

In the following days, Suna learns that he has found a new addiction.

Waking up in the morning? A kiss on your lips.

Thanking you after finishing a meal? A kiss on your lips.

Saying goodbye before leaving for work? A kiss on your lips.

Seeing you after arriving at home? A kiss on your lips.

It’s not just even the feeling of your lips against his that makes him addicted to it - he’s also enamored by your reaction every time you kiss.

The way your breath hitches a little as your lips meet, and the soft sigh you let out once you part almost always bring a flood of warmth to his chest.

“Are you going out today or staying home for work?” Since you’ve been getting better, you have started to resume working again.

If it were up to Suna, he wouldn’t want you to work at all. Your current job is not demanding at all, minimal reports needed. He remembers helping you get it five years ago, when you had opened up to him about the missed opportunity after your graduation. Still, he knows you enjoy what little you do at work, so he can’t ask you to leave it.

“I’ll stay in today,” he hears your response. “I’ll visit the office on Friday.”

He makes a mental note to himself. “Okay.” And then, “Do we have any plans this weekend?”

He adjusts the cuffs of his long-sleeved shirt as he hears you hum in contemplation. “Ah! Hajime invited us for Kenta’s birthday party this coming Saturday, right?”

Of course. Suna remembers the conversation two weeks before. He remembers trying to tame the jealousy brewing deep within him as the older man talked to you. He knows he has nothing to be jealous about. You’re just naturally sweet and friendly while Iwaizumi apparently started seeing someone.

“I almost forgot,” he confesses as he approaches you to where you’re lounging at the sofa. You’re currently waiting for your laptop to finish installing its update before you start work. “Do we have a gift already?”

“I actually ordered something but it’s stuck in one of the sorting hubs. If it doesn’t arrive by Friday, maybe we can drop by the mall or something?”

“Okay. I’ll go now, then. See you later.” He crosses the short distance between you, hand already cupping your face as he kisses you goodbye.

And if Suna is smiling while driving on the way to work, thinking about your goodbye kiss, then no one has to know.

˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚ ˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚

Express delivery, as is turns out, do not always live up to its name. It’s now Friday and the package carrying your gift for Kenta has made no movement from the sorting hub. You’re at your table at work, waiting for Rin to pick you up after you texted him that you would need to drop by the mall first.

The children are at their grandparents since this morning and you’ll be picking them up when you and Rin go to their house for breakfast tomorrow. You look at the picture on your phone. Rintarou is splayed on the bed with the twins all over him. It’s from last weekend, when your kids had come to wake the two of you up.

Your heart is instantly flooded with warmth and joy. You didn’t think it’s going to be possible, but years later, here you are with a happy family despite of the circumstances. You couldn’t ask for more.

The notification on your phone alerts you that Rin is almost at your office building. You bid goodbye to your colleagues. As the door to the elevator begins to close, you see a woman rushing towards it. Luckily, you’re able to press the ‘hold door’ button immediately.

“Thank you,” the woman sighs in relief as she shoots you a grateful, sweet smile. She’s an unfamiliar face, which is not a surprise to you since you rarely visit the office and interact with people outside of your core department.

“No problem,” you reply while mirroring her smile, before turning your gaze ahead.

You’re about to settle on that elevator silence between strangers when the woman speaks. “For a building with over 30 floors, you’d think they have more than three working elevators.”

You hum in agreement. “The ‘under construction’ signs at the other two elevators have been there forever, right?”

“Oh, really? I wouldn’t know.” She lets out a small laugh. “I’ve only been here for two weeks. I’m in a contractual project, actually.”

The elevator doors open and you two walk out, still conversing. “Ah, may I ask what project?”

“Hitomi-chan’s passion project,” the woman replies with a smile. “I’m in-charge of photography.”

You feel foolish only noticing the camera bag slung on her left shoulder. “I see. You must be very good, then. Hitomi knows to pick partners well.”

A sweet laughter spills from her again, her cheeks blushing a little. “You’re too kind…”

“Y/N,” you reply, as you both approach the exit.

The woman extends a hand. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. You can call me Serin.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well, Serin.”

A security staff of the building approaches the two of you. “Your husband’s car just pulled up at the parking area, Mrs. Suna.”

Serin’s grasp on your handshake falters a little. “Oh, you need to go?”

“Yes. See you around the office, Serin.”

She gives you one last smile before waving goodbye. “See you around!”

˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚ ˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚

You’re only supposed to buy a gift for Kenta but two hours at the mall later, you and Suna are pushing one big cart of shopping carts each. You don’t talk as you navigate the parking space, but the exchange of smiles and grins speaks a lot.

“Why did we buy so much?” You ask as you watch Rin load the bags into the car. “We’re such impulsive buyers, oh god.”

“Hey, don’t feel bad splurging sometimes. We all deserve to spoil ourselves once in a while.”

“Is that why you bought a large fox plushie?” Your voice is laced with teasing. “I didn’t know you’re into stuffed toys.”

Suna loads the last bags before closing the door. “I bought that for you, though.” He takes your hand and leads you to the front passenger seat, opening its door. “And don’t act as if you weren’t looking at it with heart eyes when I showed it to you.”

You make yourself comfortable in the seat. “Sure.”

Suna scoffs playfully before shaking his head as he swats your hand away and puts the belt on you himself. “Okay, you’re never allowed to hold it ever, then.”

You fake gasp. “Really? Then that makes me sad.”

He leans in and kisses against the pout on your lips. “You’re so cute, Y/N,” he says once he pulls away.

“And you’re so silly, Rin.” This time, you’re the one who leans in and pecks his lips. As you’re about to pull away, you feel Suna’s hand on your head before he tries to deepen the kiss.

A small whine leaves your lips and gets swallowed by Suna immediately before he finally pulls away.

“Rin…”

You’re breathing heavily and he’s in no better situation. His eyes have darkened and the way he looks at you makes you squirm on the seat. You avert your gaze. “L-let’s go home.”

It takes him a beat to answer. “Yeah. Okay, sure.” He pulls back, squeezes your upper thigh, and then closes the door for you. You’re still not looking at him when he gets in the driver’s seat and maneuvers the car outside of the parking lot.

Once you’re on the road, one of his hands lets go of the wheel and reaches for you blindly before landing on your thigh. It stays there for a whole minute before you remove it. You lace your fingers together and place it on your lap instead.

Suna hums in contentment as he continues to drive, but not before squeezing your hand. You don’t even notice that he’s driving at the fastest allowable speed limit.

˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚ ˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚

You’re glad that your children are at your in-laws’ house as you hear the incessant and loud creaking sound of the bed, paired with the headboard’s rhythmic slamming against the wall. Rintarou is groaning against your lips as his hips are working overtime in thrusting against yours.

“Fuck,” he whispers before capturing your lips in another frenzied kiss. “You feel so damn good, shit.” He’s heavily breathing and making lots of noise than usual.

You would have called him out for it if you were doing any better. “Ah, Rin, ah… right there.” Your words are cut off as he kisses you again.

Tonight’s sex feels different. It’s not only because it’s the first time you two are kissing during the deed. Right now, it feels as if Rintarou wants to tell you something through his actions.

His unforgiving thrusts continue, the onslaught of pleasure throughout your body unending. You already know you’re going to be sore tomorrow, but you can’t bring yourself to ask him to be less rough. He’s hitting all the right spots and all the sounds that you’re both making are only adding heat to the room.

“It feels like your pussy wants to swallow me whole.” He pulls back slightly so he can see the probably messed up and fucked out expression on your face. “I love the way it pulls me in. Fuck, you’re so tight. Feels so fucking good!”

His words bring you to an unexpected orgasm and you whine with volume. It doesn’t deter him as he continues his hips’ movements. His lips are quick to silence you as he begins to move inside of you faster.

You should probably feel embarrassed with the sloppy, wet noises that your bodies are creating but it just feels so good. Your head is empty and all your mind can do is chant his name repeatedly.

Rintarou. Rin. Rintarou. Rin. Rin. Rintarou. So good.

“Louder,” his word snaps you out of your daze. It’s when you realize that you’re now moaning his name out loud. Ironically, you feel flustered and look away from him.

His hand starts roaming around your body and settles on your left breast before he pinches on the nipple. “Look at me, I want to see you come.”

He guides your face towards him and you two meet eye-to-eye. The room feels too hot but you ignore it, trapped in your bubble of intimacy with your husband. You’re stuck with letting out little whimpers and small exclaims of “ah, ah, ah”s as Rintarou continues to move inside you.

Unlike his earlier kisses, he plants a sweet peck on the side of your lips before pulling back. “Do you feel good? Are you okay?” His voice is now soft, a stark contrast to his rough thrusts.

You can only nod before a gasp of pleasure leaves you again.

He chuckles against your lips before aiming a single hard thrust, forcing a louder moan out of you. “Am I making you feel good, Y/N?”

You nod repeatedly, hands gripping him harder. The dig of your fingers on his skin makes him groan sexily. “Fuck, answer me. Do I feel good inside you, wife?” Another well-aimed thrust.

“Y-yes, yes!” you finally let out. A sniffle. “It’s so good. More please, Rin. I need more.”

Rintarou doesn’t deny you and quickens his pace, giving you what you want.

And everything feels right. This is what things should have been. The both of you giving and taking. The both of you feeling good and taken care of. You and Rintarou. Rintarou and you. Under a happy spell.

˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚ ˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚

The last time you were at a party setting with Hajime, things didn’t end well. However, you feel like today is a good one. For starters, you don’t have the underlying pressure of making sure everything goes smoothly. And to make things better, your husband has not left your side ever since your family arrived at the venue.

Risa and Ryuu are happily playing with all the other kids while you’re at the parents’ table, making small talk with the other guests. An older couple - Hajime’s relatives, you think - comments on how you and Rin look good together.

You thank them, turning to your husband’s shoulder to hide your blush. Instead, you see him smirk teasingly, an arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

The party goes well. Food, games, gift-giving…

Hajime finally sits next to you with a small sigh, the two of you barely exchanging more than a few words within the past hour. “This is tiring but very rewarding.” He’s staring at the direction of his son. “All for Kenta’s happiness.”

As if feeling his father’s eyes on him, the boy turns to your direction and waves, a toothy grin on his face.

“You know, in his earlier years, I only felt resentment towards his mother.” Hajime’s voice is tender. He rarely talks about the mother of his son, her being a touchy subject. “But now, all I feel is gratefulness and pity. I’m thankful because without her, I wouldn’t have Kenta. I pity her, because she’s missing out so much on how wonderful and amazing my son is.”

You can’t say you truly understand what he’s feeling. Still, you acknowledge to yourself that your children do seem to be merrier ever since Rintarou joined the three of you, bonding all the time. “Did she ever try to reach out?”

Hajime shakes his head. “No. And my attempts to talk to her were all futile.” The sad look on his face passes quickly. “You know, Y/N, I never considered dating again. Not until Kenta’s much older. But I’m glad I took the leap recently. She already adores Kenta and he likes her a lot, too.”

You perk up at the mention of his new lover. “I’m glad to hear that. Speaking of, I thought she was coming today?”

“She said she’ll catch up because something came up with the project she’s working on.” Just then, a notification pings on Hajime’s phone. “And now we’ve summoned her. I’ll go meet her at the door.”

You watch as your friend eagerly makes his way through the crowd. It’s then that you decide to go on a powder room break to freshen up. On the way, you bump into your husband who’s returning from the restroom. He tucks a hair behind your ear. “You good?”

You look up at him, smiling. “Yes.” It’s crazy, really, how a simple gesture from Rintarou makes your heart flood with happiness.

He mirrors your smile, a bit of mischief laced in it. Rin leans closer to you and asks, “You’re not too sore anymore?”

Blood rushes to your face and you swat at him. “Please, don’t.”

Through his arms around your side, you feel his body shake in laughter. “Okay, okay. Don’t be a blushing mess. We’re in public, Y/N.” He pulls you closer to him and plants a quick kiss on your temple. “Let’s behave from now on.”

You murmur chastising words as events from last night come back to you.

Suna had just forced you to finish drinking a glass of water, mumbling something about you needing to re-hydrate. You’re already washed up, dressed in a pair of fluffy cotton pajamas.

“Good girl,” he murmured before placing the empty glass on the bedside table. He then propped himself up against the headboard, making sure the blankets are covering you.

The praise made you smile like a shy young girl and Rin opened his arm. You didn’t allow yourself a moment of hesitation, immediately going towards his warmth. He squeezed the side of your waist as you snuggled against him.

The post-sex bliss was still surrounding you both. “What are you thinking?”

The sound of his heartbeat was calming, and you didn’t realize it had been slowly lulling you to sleep until Rin repeated his question. It’s been happening a lot lately - him initiating conversation, wanting the two of you to build good communication.

Maybe it’s the domesticity of snuggling in bed with your husband, or the way his hand had traveled upwards to where it’s rubbing softly against your back. You weren’t exactly sure what spurred you to answer candidly. “I’m thinking that I really like you, Rin. A lot. But I guess you already knew that.”

He hummed in confirmation. You weren’t expecting anything back, you knew it’s only been a few months. But much like he’s been doing, Rintarou surprises you. “I’m thinking I’m starting to care about you. A lot. Though it may take me a lot more moments of introspection for me to truly know what I feel. But, really, Y/N, I care about you and I want you to know it, in case I haven’t been clear.”

The hesitation in his voice almost made you melt. He didn’t need to say it, to be honest. You’ve noticed it in all the ways he had been changing in the past several weeks. Trying to quit smoking, spending more time with you and your kids. Opening more communication between you two.

Still, the verbal affirmation is welcomed.

“Thank you, Rin,” you murmured sleepily against him. “For all your efforts.”

You vaguely heard him whisper the words back to you before you drifted off to sleep.

You pull back from hiding your face against your husband’s body and crane your head back. He inspects your face briefly before saying, “All good, you no longer look like a ripe tomato.”

You fake glare at him and remember where you two are. You look around and see Hajime introducing someone to his guests. Beside you, Rintarou pulls out his phone after it pings. He begins typing his reply with one hand, the other reaching for yours.

One of the things you have learned about your husband in the past months is that he can be clingy. You grasp his hand and intertwine your fingers together.

As Hajime approaches you with his new guest, your eyes widen. “Serin?”

Two distinct sounds reach your ear.

Serin’s gasp.

And the sound of a phone crashing on the floor.

Rintarou lets go of your hand as he bends down to pick his phone up.

“Y/N? What a lovely surprise. You’re friends with Hajime?” Serin is quick to give you a hug. “Such a small world!”

You smile at her and then your at friend. “This is… wow.” You turn to Rintarou who’s now back on his feet. You reach for his hand back but he puts both his hands inside his pockets.

The look on his face tells you that his phone must have experienced serious damage.

“Serin, this is my husband, Rintarou. Rin, I met Serin at work yesterday, I didn’t know she’s the girlfriend that Hajime has been talking about. This is a nice coincidence! Don’t you think so?”

The woman blinks slowly before she smiles slightly at your husband. “Nice to meet you.”

To your surprise, Rintarou ignores her extended hand. Instead, he gives her a curt nod before promptly excusing himself outside.

You mask your concern and turn apologetically to Serin and Hajime. “Um, I’m sorry about that. Maybe he’s upset about his phone.”

Serin purses her lips in a small pout. “No worries, Y/N. Let’s talk again later, I want to go to the birthday boy now.” She shoots you a dazzling smile before dragging Hajime by the hand towards Kenta’s direction.

You sigh. As much as you’re delighted that Hajime’s girlfriend is the same nice woman you met yesterday, you can’t help but worry about Rintarou.

After a quick glance at your kids who are engrossed playing with their friends, you follow your husband outside.

Rintarou is restlessly pacing back and forth and though you’re not that physically close, you can see his brows knotted in worry.

“Rin?” He pauses at your voice and looks at you with slightly wide eyes. He doesn’t offer any words.

“Are you okay?”

He blinks a few times. “Yeah.” And then, “Just needed space to breathe.”

There’s a moment of hesitation - as if he wants to say more but decides against it. He resumes his pacing and you quietly slip back inside.

The rest of the party goes relatively well and you’re glad that you’re able to spend time and converse with the other parents from the playground. Moreover, the happy giggles and wide smiles of your children filled your heart with love.

Soon enough, Rin’s earlier actions get pushed to the back of your mind.

˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚ ˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚

It wasn’t particularly a long day but as soon as you got Risa and Ryuu to fall asleep, your body starts demanding you to rest.

You barely make it through showering. Once you’re done for the night, you move to settle on your shared bed with Rintarou to see him all quiet. He’s sitting on the bed, leg impatiently tapping on the floor.

“Rin, what’s the matter?”

He looks up, your eyes meeting briefly before he turns away. “Nothing.”

In the past, you would have let it go, afraid that you’d push the wrong buttons to set him off against you. But now, given how things have changed between the two of you, you want to talk.

“You’ve been awfully quiet since we left Kenta’s party. Is something bothering you?”

It takes Rintarou a very long time to respond. When he does, it makes you think you may have misheard him.

“Sorry? What did you say?” You ask, your voice gentle despite the tremors and dread building inside you.

His response comes again, louder and clearer this time. “You.”

“Rin?”

He looks you in the eye this time as he stands up. It’s only then that you noticed he hasn’t changed out of his clothes yet. “You. The one that’s bothering me.”

You shake your head as you begin to step closer to him. “I don’t understand.”

Rintarou scoffs. “Of course you don’t.” He swats away the hand that tries to touch him and it leaves you freeze in surprise.

He then makes his way towards the balcony. And you’re still standing there, left alone in the room, dumbfounded and confused.

Oddly enough, this feels like a deja vu.

˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚ ˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚

At the beginning of your forced marriage to Suna, you knew there was a slim chance that you two would get along. He hated you, and deep down, though you never voiced it out loud, you also resented him for taking advantage of you and getting you pregnant.

But now, looking back at the past few months, you think that your relationship might actually work. He’s no longer treating you horribly. In fact, he’d been extremely nice, getting involved in preparing for your kids’ arrival, being supportive and caring, and overall acting friendly.

For this night, you decided to cook him a simple dinner. He had texted you earlier in the day that he’d drop by Osamu’s newly-opened restaurant to give his congratulations. You had told him it’s okay if he wanted to celebrate with his friends but Rintarou insisted that he’d much rather spend the evening with you.

You knew not to get your hopes up, that he’s just being a responsible father and husband. Still, your traitorous heart beat wildly at his last message, looking forward to seeing him come home.

Four hours later, however, the dinner you prepared is cold and you’re seated alone at the living room couch. Waiting for Rintarou who never came home at the time he promised.

Your eyes were drooping, drowsiness almost winning the long battle you’ve been having against it. Finally, the door opened and Rintarou came in.

He looked utterly wasted.

You stood up in the fastest way possible for a heavily-pregnant person. “Rin, what happened? You weren’t answering my texts and calls. I was so worried.”

He looked up from tossing his shoes to the side. His hair was disheveled and his face was flushed, probably from drinking. “Fuck off.”

The words surprised you, the venom in them strong enough to make you take a step back. You were able to regain your stance nonetheless and moved closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Huh? Are you okay, Rin?”

“Don’t call me that.” He glared at you before swatting your hand away. “You ruined everything. Everything.”

Tears welled up in your eyes. “What? Rin, I’m confused. What happened?”

He didn’t answer you and instead began walking towards the stairs. You were hurt and confused but you didn’t want the night to end with him ignoring you.

Being pregnant, it took you longer to arrive at your now shared room. When you opened the door, you saw that it was already a mess. Broken things everywhere, confirming your suspicions from the sounds you heard on the way to the room.

“Rintarou, stop!” You tried to tell him but he whipped so fast to face you that your feet froze on the spot. “Leave me the fuck alone! You ruined my life, my everything!”

You remained unmoving, fists clenched at the sides. “I don’t understand. Can you calm down, please?”

He grabbed an ornamental vase that you had placed on the dresser and threw it on the floor.

You stared at the flowers from your garden. Lying, broken, and mangled. “Rin, I’m getting scared. Please, let’s talk about what’s wrong?”

“You,” he finally responded. “You’re the most wrong thing in my life.”

His words felt like dagger to your heart. You couldn’t understand what was happening. Things have been going well…

“I hate your existence in my life. I hate this. I hate that I had to marry you. I hate that you’re pregnant. I hate-”

“Please don’t say that,” you begged, tears flowing down your face. “Don’t.”

Rintarou laughed emptily. It pained you to see how angry and sad he looked like. “Isn’t this what you wanted? To talk about what’s wrong? It’s you. So here’s what’s going to happen: since you’re adamant about keeping the babies, then fine, go ahead.

“But I want you to know that this marriage will only be words on a paper. Do not expect anything from me. I will never be your husband. I will never be your friend. You will never mean anything to me. I will never love you. Understood?”

You could barely see him through the stream of your tears. You wished this was just a bad dream and that you’d wake up soon.

“Answer me!” Rintarou yelled. “Do you understand?”

“Y-yes.”

He kicked at the broken vase by his foot. “Now leave me the fuck alone.”

˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚ ˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚

The memory claws at your heart and you clutch at your chest. It seems like everything from the past is repeating but this time, the pain is multiplied ten-fold.

You can’t help but ask yourself as you stare at the fox plushie on your hands.

What really happened?

Can you really not be happy with Rintarou?

You lift a hand to wipe at your eyes. The other loses its grip on the toy and it drops onto the floor. You wipe your tears one more time before leaning over the bed to reach for it. It bounces against your strained grip, going further out of your reach.

It seems like the fox plush is mocking you.

You tiredly go down the bed to pick it up. However, once it’s back in your hands, you decide to just lean your back against the bed’s side instead of climbing back onto the bed.

You haven’t felt this tired in a long time. Not even during your recent fight with Rintarou months ago.

You close your eyes to fight off the tears that have resurfaced, tears that never really stopped forming in your eyes. To your dismay, you’re unable to ward them off, so you’re left crying, tears escaping your closed eyes.

And as you succumb to the darkness brought by your closed lids, you wish for the pain to be gone the moment you open your eyes.

˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚ ˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚

Outside, Suna shuts the balcony door behind him before he leans against the railing. He can hear the faint sounds of your crying but wills himself to ignore them.

Instead, he stares ahead at nothing, hoping something can drown out your sounds of sorrow. He curses under his breath until he reaches into his pocket, hand clenching tightly on the item.

Not long after, with the backdrop of the dark sky devoid of moon and any stars, the tip of a lit cigarette burns bright like a blaze.

to be continued.

˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚ ˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚

I hope you liked this update hehehe. Question! Do we resolve things quickly or go down the hard path (and curse Suna along the way?) LET ME KNOW!

taglist (lmk if you wanna be added or if you changed your user): @warrior-of-justice @alisa--things @wolffmaiden @kurookinnie @simp-nerd-16  @alex-is-100 @k4g3hika @harukaaaaa172993 @themoonreflectsthesun  @lvjycrow @cantbedenied @sweetlikerockcandy @sirimiripetrichor @yamiakari-chi  @noideawhothatis @nervouscoffeetaco @lovemyfamily4ever-blog nervouscoffeetaco  kamukayakmonyet  yuqixidle ieathairs  cantbedenied  gariben  beomeomgyu  esmeisdrunk-blog  123j456l  iluv-ace  semitje @justablogforreblogs @alienvarmint @itohsi @tamimemo @mshope16 @jeonsfizz @syndyj @susuarin @ssc7514 @tkooooop @lialoveskaisersomuch @dilucsleftshoelace @bakingcuriosity @appepel @arusio

[lovetei]

Heyyy,

I saw your toxic things the demon bros will do to keep you with them and i absolutely fell in love with. More of, my mental health issues felll in love with- ANYGAYSzz

I was wondering if you could maybe do the same for the side characters¿¿¿¿

Also did you drink water today? Cuz if thats a no here you go 💧💧💧💧

And some cookies just incase 🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪

Love anonymous 👑

I'm not actually supposed to post anything for tonight, because I don't know? I didn't get to start anything this morning so I crammed this post T_T

But love lots! Hope you enjoy this piece ^^

But seriously, I was like "Oh shit, the algorithm I don't have!" And proceed to finish this.

--------------------------------------------------

What are the most toxic thing they will do in a relationship just to make you stay with them?

Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters

Warnings: Manipulation, yandere themes, execution, mention of torture, psychological torture, love potions, Mentions of murder, framing, alcohol

Links: Masterlist

--------------------------------------------------

DIAVOLO will use his authority

He's already so happy to have you by his side

And by staying there you already secured the position of the next ruler that will stand beside him

So, why do you have to leave..?

And the reasons

"I'm not fit enough..."

"I don't deserve this much..!"

"There are more people out there that are more worthy than me..."

Won't cut it.

He knows your worth and he's sure you do too.

So why?

Perhaps you're just nervous that you won't be able to match his grace?

You don't need to.

His grace is unmatched among the demons and yours is too among the mortals.

You both are on the same chapter, just on different pages.

So why make things hard for yourself?!

All you need to do is say yes and everything will be taken care of.

Clothes, food, money, status, security and literally anything.

He loves you and you does too so it's not going to be a marriage with no love...

SO WHY?

You're starting to drive him insane, MC.

And he might just do the same to you

So he'll invite you over for a fancy dinner and a few drinks

You accepted, despite knowing that Diavolo might try something after he got you drunk

Thinking that Diavolo forgot that you can't get drunk by just a basic demonus

Fool

That's what you are for thinking Diavolo actually misses something, anything about you

So he changed the bottle of demonus to an actual human liquor but neutralized it's taste by the help of his one, loyal servant

Barbatos

Not even two hour passed by and you're already putty in his hands

Dancing just like how he wants it on his palms

Then he'll slide a paper into the table to you, together with a beautiful pen

He then point at an empty line with his finger and said "Look at that MC, this line right here wants your signature."

"Hmm, why?~"

"Because it's such a huge fan of you and it needs you to become something, someone better, so why don't you give it a sign?" Is what he said while smirking.

And there you are, signing the papers while your mind is clouded with alcohol

Oh what is it?

Just a marriage contract

You don't want it?

Look into rules and regulations, Claus 5

It's against your human rights?

How foolish, you're not in the human world.

You will tell the whole Devildom about it?

Lèse majesté

And what's the punishment for committing that? Simple.

Death.

BARBATOS and his timeline power

He loves you

So much actually

At first, it was fun to be in a relationship with him

It's fun, slowly opening him up like a present and seeing the gift, a part of him that only you know.

He builds up trust for you and so do you for him

Then it started to get suffocating

He won't admit it openly but you know,

You know that the one who kills anyone who dared act close with you is him

And it terrifies you

You may allow it if it actually harms you, severely

But it's not for your protection anymore

He's doing it out of pure annoyance now

He doesn't like you around the brothers

The angels

Solomon

Thirteen

Or even Lord Diavolo

In fact, he doesn't want you around anyone.

And it's making you feel more unsafe

He's starting to isolate you from everyone and everything

He's trying to isolate you from the world

So you decided to end things with him

And he doesn't seem to take it lightly like how you expected...

How did you know?

Simple.

You woke up weeks before that break up happened

You know how it happened and you know who made it happen

It's none other than your boyfriend of course

You thought that maybe if you talk nicely with him he'll actually understand the problem

But he didn't

He started to get more and more aggressive with you

Then when the week end

It repeats

And repeats

And repeats

And repeats again

And again

But it will keep going on like that until you learn

Until you learn that there's no other option than him

No other ending than him

He doesn't mind driving you crazy if it means you'll continue to love him

So good luck, MC.

SIMEON might just ask Father for help

Ho doesn't understand!

Why would you want to break up with him?!

He did everything, MC!

It's not clear!

Nothing is clear!

You just belive that you two are not fit together..?

You don't want him to end up like Lilith..?

He doesn't care!

He'll burn these precious, white wings for you!

He'll kill for you!

He'd actually prefer to end up like Lilith rather than this!

Because, at least, Lilith managed to be with her love until her life ended...

He'd rather be a demon or a human rather then live like the adored angel he is without you...

...

You'll still leave huh?

Alright then.

I guess he has no choice but to ask Father for help

What do you mean it will cause him to fall? Oh dear, it won't.

It might actually even promote him into a higher rank.

Father wants you in his side.

In fact, the whole celestial realm want you on this side

So when he asked "Father, it seems that we need to take even larger measure to have MC side with us. What do you think we can do?"

...oh?

Luke?

What a brilliant plan.

Now,

Let's see if you can still leave knowing an innocent life, Luke, will be put under danger because of this tantrum,

Because of you.

SOLOMON and his hidden antics

Oh dear, angel

His little devil

His most prized possession

His favorite concubine,

You won't be leaving him anytime soon, dear.

When you told him that "I want to break up with you."

He kept himself quite for a while before answering "Let me give it some thought, MC. For now, stay with me."

And just as he expected you listened obediently.

But then, his grip around your waits became more rough

And the hand he used to playfully wrap around your neck became more tight

It's hard...

It's hard to feed you his love laced cooking

But he found out that you just loves, adored even, Luke's baked cookies...

And since you're a human, he knows that Luke creates special cookies just for you

One that don't contain exotic ingredients that will upset your stomach

And it just made the work of latching love potions easier for him

He'll just add a few drops and it will do the magic for him

So, all he has to do sit tight

And wait for you to crawl back to his lap yourself.

RAPHAEL will use spears for example

Haha...

But he loves you, MC..?

He might just start crying if you say more

"Sure... But I'll make sure you'll come back to me..!"

At first, it sounded like a joke and it's funny enough to make you giggle

The beautiful memories of peaceful separation didn't last long after you saw a dead body pinned by spears though

His spears, to be specific

It doesn't even make sense

You don't even know this guy...

He hasn't talk to you and you don't even know him

Hell, you don't even recognize his face...

So what's the catch?

Why is he killing completely random people...

That's what have been running around your mind

You haven't seen him around RAD anymore

And if you do he refuse to answer your questions

Except his face will lightly flush and he'll even smile a little before sa say "Ah~ It's nice hearing your voice..."

His tone, the way he says it, none of theme are innocent

And he made it known that he knows what he's doing

The curiosity didn't last long

Until you found out that the corpses aren't for you from him as a threat

It was for the families of the victims

You found out that each of them have high power among the nobilities of Devildom

And he killed them to make the families think that you're telling him to do so

It's not to make you feel guilty, it for them to start attacking you

Until you're pushed back to a corner where no one else can save you

Except for him.

MEPHISTOPHELES's way only

Ha...

Man he loves you so much...

But all he do is stare at you blankly after you told him you ant to break up

Staring at you like you're just some kid throwing a tantrum

It's Mephistopheles in front of you, I mean, he's rich, handsome, tall, smart and has good family background

If he's a human everybody would have gone crazy over him already

Plus he wears heels and he has a sexy cane

What more could you ask for?

But yeah...

You don't want to be with him forever?

Sure, he'll talk to Diavolo.

"I'll buy MC's contract and I'll put them under my wing." Is all the reason he needs to say and a few more to have Diavolo selling you

What about your family?

This amount will do right?

I mean...

He paid for what your worth so don't expect it to be much.

Anyways, you're his now

By the eyes of the law, money and his

He'll never let you get away?

And if you did try to?

He'll simply frame you for treason and let's see if you won't come crawling back to him

After finding out that he can choose what type of punishment, torture method, to give you.

But don't worry.

He likes the game cat and mouse

He don't like playing it for a long time though

So be careful

His patience isn't as long as the line of money and connection ahead of him

THIRTEEN basically holds your life

Break up?

"You're not." Is all she said as she holds your candle

She's grinning widely as she let your candle melt, its 's wax falling directly in her hands

"Why would you even want to?" She asked even though she knows, no reason can separate the two of you

And if you did say "I don't care." as she holds you candle

She might just accidentally extinguish one of your loved ones candles

So be careful, MC.

Among everyone

She's the only one who won't joke around.

And just so you know

Her patience is shorter than the amount of time it requires to kill someone's fire off of their candle.

[swordfright]

Since we're talking c!Quackity...one of the interactions that fascinates me is the conversation between him, c!Wilbur, and c!Tommy when crimeboys visit Las Nevadas, because it contains this snippet of conversation:

This snippet comes in the middle of a larger conversation wherein Wilbur, more or less freshly revived, is grilling both Tommy and Q for details about how to get into the prison to see Dream. After this, the conversation moves on to navigating the visitation system. This snippet is framed within the context of Wilbur wanting to visit Dream, Tommy trying to convince him not to, and Quackity...? Well, okay, what is Quackity trying to do here? What's his goal in this conversation? He readily supplies Wilbur with info about the visitation and security systems (while Tommy actively withholds and obfuscates this info), so does that mean Q is trying to normalize his own visits by encouraging other people to visit? That's possible, but what interests me more is the question of, like, what the hell is going on here in a broader sense.

The simplest view of this conversation is that it's an argument between two people who are diametrically opposed, and Quackity is the third party here, a guy who doesn't seem particularly invested in either outcome. Which begs the question, why does he bring his own visits up at all? Q is the one who cuts in and mentions that he's been visiting Dream, which at this point isn't a secret on the server but it's also not something Q seems interested in discussing at length. The torture visits are something to be flaunted, not talked about. My assumption, given what we know about Q as a character, is that he's leveraging his experience with navigating Pandora in order to impress Wilbur. Information is something that can be negotiated, brokered, sold - so he's letting Wilbur know he has something Wilbur wants.

This is classic Q behavior right up until the end, where he gets oddly touchy about the torture being brought up. This moment has always struck me as weird, especially considering the handful of other times Quackity doesn't care whether people know (the conversation he has with George comes to mind, as well as the path he asks Foolish to build.) So there are three possibilities here:

that Q is bothered by Tommy saying the quiet part out loud;

that Q has only just found out about Wilbur's gratitude to Dream in the last 5 minutes (literally) and doesn't want to give Wilbur a reason to oppose him right now;

there's something about Tommy specifically knowing about and acknowledging the torture that rubs Q the wrong way.

Personally, I don't see option #2 as viable, given that Wilbur and Quackity are already beefing over how close to Las Nevadas Wilbur can build stuff. That's part of the reason Wilbur is here in the first place: to execute some chernobyl-grade negging. It's not world-ending beef, but given the propensity for mid-tier beef to turn into world-ending beef on this server, it's not nothing. Point is, Quackity and Wilbur have already been at odds with each other for this entire episode. Is Quackity less likely to tolerate conflict involving Dream? Absolutely, but I don't think avoiding such a conflict is his primary reason for acting the way he does here.

My current theory is that it's a combination of #1 and #3 - Quackity seemingly enjoys implying that he's been torturing Dream, but rarely talks about it outright unless it's with Sam. I can't think of many examples of him discussing the torture openly with other characters. I think it's not a stretch to say he enjoys the power of suggestion, he likes making people wonder, he likes making people scared, but he's not really prepared for someone to bring it up so boldly and directly the way Tommy does here. As for why this bothers him, my best guess is that the torture is actually kind of...difficult to talk about with people who aren't directly involved (i.e. Sam and Dream.) It's an incredibly demanding habit that takes up much of Quackity's time and energy, not to mention it's insanely intimate. Like I just don't think it's a stretch to say that Q probably just straight-up doesn't know how to talk about it in a way that's upfront, rather than gloating or flaunting or vaguely implying. Another reason it's likely difficult is that, based on the interactions we've seen, Q probably isn't used to other people bringing it up at all. Tommy's remark catches him off-guard in a very literal way.

The "Don't say that, not even as a joke," really gets me though, because it's such a defensive thing to say, coming from a guy who up until now has been very clear about how little interest he has in defending the indefensible. Is this comment a sign of remorse on Quackity's part? Fuck no, but I do think it's an admission of something. Keep in mind that Quackity's mannerisms when speaking to Tommy are almost identical to the way he speaks to c!Slime. This is evident in a number of streams from the Las Nevadas era, but especially this one: Quackity's tone of voice, language, demeanor, all of it is calculated to evoke the same kind of mentor-mentee relationship he has with Slime. And it makes sense - at this junction in the story, Q views Tommy as someone who's young and impressionable and fucks up a lot, someone who could use Q's advice, someone who's easy to manipulate.

If I were to hedge a bet, I'd say the primary reason Quackity reacts to the torture comment with defensiveness in this scene is because Tommy's remark reminds him that he needs to stay in control of the narrative. I think this is why Q brings up his visits (not the torture, but the visits) earlier in the conversation: "Tommy, you know about this, right?" He's testing Tommy to see how much he knows, and is taken aback when Tommy is prepared to bring up the nasty stuff. Q can walk around with Dream's blood on his shirt all he likes, but once the story's out, it's out - Quackity will no longer have control over who knows and, more importantly, what they think. If anything, this moment is a fleeting but noticeable admission of Quackity's insecurities surrounding the torture in specific. If he's going to properly manage his alliances, he would do well to maintain control of info surrounding, uh, how he spends his time.

[romana-after-dark]

The Wrong Way: Chapter 9

Dark!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Tommy Miller x reader (secondary)

Masterlist

Spotify playlist

Summery: You are sold to Joel to clear up some of your fathers' debts, and he takes you back to his house where him, Tommy, and high ranking members of his raiding trope stay. Joel is mean, cruel, and hash, but had small moments of softness that confuse you in your venerable state. Over time, you get to know him and Tommy, and see different sides of each, and both are hiding secrets. Was it possible to fall in love under these circumstances? Or was that just another way Joel was fucking with you?

Aka: my mom sold me to One Direction

WARNINGS FOR FULL FIC, NOT CHAPTER BY CHAPTER UNLESS SOMETHING NEW IS ADDED AFTER MASTER WARNING LIST: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Fic contains graphic depictions of sexual assault, rape, molestation, dubcon/non con. Blow Jobs, PIV sex, lose of virginity, sex trafficking, past incest, death/people dying everywhere, Stockholm syndrome, falling for your rapist, victim blaming, torcher, branding, physical abuse, rape (not Joel), somno, dub con on tommy? idk he's not really into it but feels like he has to, self-harm/depression/suicidal thoughts (not a lot) but fair warning, major age gaps, love triangle, pregnancy/birth, threats of abortion, major character death, mentions of potential csa/child abuse but does not even come close to happening, forced pregnancy, forced housewife shit, breeding, breeding kink?!?!

Pacing is a bit off for reason's I'll explain at the end so uh have mercy. I shifted thing a bit but I think it'll make the last chapter better.

*********************

If we had a daughter I'd watch and could not save her The emotional torture From the head of your high table She'd do what you taught her She'd meet the same cruel fate So now I've gotta run So I can undo this mistake At least I've gotta try... -Labour, Paris Paloma

It was cool out, and the fall leaves crunched under Joel heavy footsteps, shuttering and flittering as he pulls you across the lawn, screaming his brother's name in vain, horse shouts. 

You were supposed to rake tomorrow. 

“TOMMY! TOMMY! TOMMY!” was all you could say, all sense having left you as soon as you were thrown around in the kitchen. It was another slap that brought you back to reality, opening your eyes to come face to face with the man who had beaten and loved you in such harsh contrast this last year, pulling you both to stand on top of a chair. Your shirt felt wet from how much you cried and were still sobbing, but you have enough thought, just barely, to stop screaming for Tommy… he let go, and you wanted to run, wanted to protect your baby… but you’d get nowhere. You look down at the crowd that gathered, all men you recognized, some you liked, some you knew were just waiting for Joel to relinquish you to them… and Lorenzo, his normally droopy bedroom eyes opened wide with fear.

This is how you’d die, isn’t it?

Joel yanked your face back to him. “They ain’t gonna save yuh, little one. Not even Tommy would save you, you know that, right, for all you cry for him, he still chose me over you. He chose Maria over you, because you are NOTHING! You were nothing but a pastime to him but me?” A rush of calm as he held your chin tightly, nails digging into the skin and clawing your face open. “I love you, princess, and all you do is hurt me.” His voice was soft, small, and for a foolish moment you think maybe he already peaked in his rage… until a strong, painful punch in your sternum knocked all breath out of you... and again. and again.

You hear Lorenzo call out your name, and through your sore throat and abused body, you manage to get out and small ‘don’t’. You hope Renzo knows that’s meant for him. Don’t do it. Don’t risk your life for me, I’m not worth it.

Joel throws the rope over the tree branch, and as you look at your surroundings, you are struck with horror at the realization that this is the tree in which Nick’s skeleton lay at the foot; an area you always intentionally avoided since Joel brought you out here so, so long ago. The rope that his hands hung from as Joel skinned him alive was across from you… was that your intended fate? Would he really do that to you, 8 months pregnant? Or would he kill you and preform some sick, botched c-section?

He fashioned a noose around your neck.

“Joel, Joel please, I’m sorry”

“I don’t fucking care!”

“THE BABY, JOEL!” You sob, pleading for your child's life. “Please, please just wait until I give birth, then you can do whatever you want but they shouldn’t be punished because of me!”

“You’re right, she shouldn’t” Joel always referred to the baby as ‘she’, despite no evidence. He pulled the rope tight, causing you to choke and stand on your toes to keep breathing. “This is your fault.” He slapped you, making your head swing wildly to the right. “It’s your fault I’m hurting you.” He slapped you again, and you felt blood leave your mouth. “You hurt me!” He screamed, and another slap. The ringing in your ear doesn’t prevent you from hearing him as he tells you that you are hurting the baby yourself before delivering his final blow. You can’t focus your eyes at all… but you can hear him, although you wish you couldn’t. From the loud voice and the feel of his breath, he’s right in front of you. “I should tie us both up, little one, and kick this chair out from under us, end it all, is that what you want?”

No, absolutely not. Even after everything, you didn’t want Joel dead, and it hurt you to hear the pain in his voice, just as it hurt to see the betrayal in his eyes as he learned of Tommy… You loved him, you loved him, you loved…

“N-o!” you choke out, the harsh rope burning on your throat.

“As much as I know you want me to,” Despite the fact you said no, he was so convinced you hated him. “You don’t get to win, cheating bitch.”

He hops down, rope in hand, tying it to the bar of the chair and leaving you gagging and rasping on your tippy toes for air on the chair. He mutters his usual threats to the men, that anyone who helps you or touches you is dead, and you watch him walk away towards the house. 

So you stand there for what feels like forever, attempting to pull the noose off but you can barely breath, can barely see, can barely hear… you can, however, feel your precious baby kicking.

One by one, the men get bored and wander off inside, until two bodies are left.

You register Lorenzo’s smell, alcohol and those strange gross cigarettes he smokes, hoping up on the chair and quickly taking you down. You can’t stand, and Lorenzo barely stops you from completely collapsing on the ground. He yells at Jack to help him carry you inside, but Jack hesitates, no doubt not wanting to die… but after back and forth, another arm is lifting you up, and your heavily pregnant form is stumbling back to your home.

“Hey, stay with me sweetheart, we’re gonna get you back, okay? But I need you to stay awake, I think you’re concussed”

You don’t answer; you can’t answer, really… even as you slowly start to gain a little focus. Lorenzo is talking you through it. ‘Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot.’ Although you’re certain Lorenzo could carry you on a normal day, 8 months pregnant was another story.

You weren’t sure what his plan was, but it didn't really matter as Joel was waiting inside for you.

“Jack, take the girl.”

Lorenzo spoke up. “Joel, calm down, I know damn well you didn’t want her dead-”

“Jack, take the girl, and cover her eyes.”

You try to say no, to tell Joel to stop, but words don’t form like they should… Joel wouldn’t listen anyway.

So, there you are, stuck in Jack’s arms which were oddly tight, protective and comforting as Lorenzo’s blood splattered on you both, Joel pistol whipping him hard before shooting.

Lorenzo’s body falls to the floor as a clump of deadweight, and as Joel grabs you, dragging you into the room, all you can glimpse is Jack frantically trying to stop Lorenzo’s bleeding as your only friend screamed in pain on the floor.

When the door closes, Joel is a new person, pulling you to him and onto the bed. He was sat up against the wall, holding your back to his chest as your body wracked in sobs. Lorenzo was dead, you were in pain, and you were so, so scared for your baby. Could they survive what Joel had just done to you? You were certain it was over for now, Joel was back to his lovey, post-violence state had already set in… but what about next time? Joel had been safe for months… months where you didn’t run, you cooked and cleaned and serviced him and fucking hell, you fell in love! You loved him! You were the best possible wife you could’ve been, all while carrying his child, and even the mere suggestion of waiting on having another instead of pumping them out like he wanted, and he nearly killed you.

Was he trying to kill you?

Lorenzo said he wasn’t.

But you weren’t sure…

Lorenzo…

Despite the protruding stomach, he began to massage your core, and you were too violently ill and dizzied to protest. You’d be too scared to even try, anyway. You weren’t sure how long he tried until he gave up, but it felt like forever, minute after minute of your shaking, aching body crying in his arms as he tried to bring you to orgasm with his hands before realizing you weren’t the slightest bit wet. Your body didn’t even have it in you to attempt to betray you this time.

So Joel just held you, and held you tight, so tight you couldn’t hardly breathe again and you had no choice but to try and relax yourself until the sobs bubbled down to gentle hiccups and a steady stream of tears.

“Why do you make me do this to you?” Joel spoke, his voice croaking and you suddenly notice tears on your neck. “Why do you make me hurt you?”

“I d- I don’t know.” You gasped and tried to answer through the shaking tears.

“I don’t want to do this, you know that right?”

“Uh-uh”

“You make me act like this. I’ve been good to you, haven't I?”

“Y-y-yeah-ah.”

You almost killed me and our baby.

“I feed you, I care for you.”

“Y-yeah”

Tommy fed me. I cook for you.

“I make love to you, I make you come, don’t I?”

“Yeah.”

You rape me.

“You’re my wife”

You kidnapped me.

“I gave you a child.”

You forced this on me.

“I gave you a life here, free from your father.”

You ripped me away from Zach and June, you sent Tommy away, you killed Lorenzo.

“But still, you treat me like dirt.”

I cared for you. I’ve been a nurse, a servant, a cook, a whore

“You cheated on me with my own brother”

I was terrified of losing my virginity, and Tommy was safer than you.

“You disrespect me”

I asked a question.

“You know why I do this, right? It’s for your own good. Our baby needs a good mother, she needs a mother who will love her unconditionally, who will always be there for her, to be a good example. I can’t have you running around making her feel unwanted, can I?”

“No.”

Joel buried his wet, crying face in your hair. “So it’s not really my fault, is it?” It was like he was begging for forgiveness, for absolution, justifying it to you, to himself, maybe even to Sarah…

You answer him, sleepy, head throbbing and you feel like you could throw up. “No, it’s my fault.” and it was. It was your fault for not leaving with Zach, for not taking him up on countless offers he made in letters Lorenzo passed between you, offering to run away with you and June and Lorenzo… even continuing to beg into the pregnancy, but you ignored him, causing many fights between you and Lorenzo. It was your fault, and now Lorenzo was dead or dying and you were trapped with no way to contact Zach, no way to get to him…

He caresses your head and body. “Yeah, it’s yours, but it’s okay, I forgive you. You’ll do better, I just know it.” Joel sounded like he was about to fall asleep too. “You’ll be good for her. You’ll be a good mom for Sarah.”

If you weren’t so fucking tired, the revelatin of the extent of Joel’s dellousions would be shocking to you, but you couldn’t find anything shocking anymore.

“I spoke to Tommy the other day.” He sat up, laying you down into bed and tucking you in. “He’s doing good.” A kiss on the cheek and he continued his talking. “I was think’n, maybe after she’s born, we could see Tommy a little bit? Not much” Joel was quick to warn. “Maybe just… once every month or two… so Dolly can know her uncle?” He was back to using Dolly… “Would you like that? See’n him a little bit here and there?” He was offering you an olive branch.

“Y-yes, I’d like that.” Tommy… seeing Tommy again… You wanted him so badly, you missed him so much it hurt… Lorenzo was a blessing, he was like a brother, but Tommy was someone special. A kind, soft heart in a world of monsters…

“Go to sleep, little one. Tomorrow’s a new day.”

You thought you shouldn’t sleep, given that you were clearly concussed, but Joel was so warm beside you, big and broad and protectively wrapping his arms around you… You allow yourself to drift off; there was no use fighting it anymore.

But tomorrow wouldn’t be a new day. Tomorrow would be the same thing. Cooking, cleaning, baby, sex… every day for the rest of your fucking life.

The next morning Joel brought you eggs and toast... Breakfast in bed like a good husband… You waited until it was safe to ask about Lorenzo.

Hesitantly, Joel let you go see him… he was alive, but barely. The gunshot went straight through, thank god, but the wound on his torso was already looking infected, and his face was deeply swollen and bruised; Jack was no nurse. 

But Lorenzo was still Lorenzo. “Hey sweetheart, you look like shit” 

You smile at him. “Yeah, you’re not exactly Han Solo yourself.”

“Now, how come you know who Han Solo is but you don’t know Fleetwood Mac?”

You go on to explain the comics and Joel telling you all about it while you care for his wounds, making little jabs at each other until you are done, and he grabs your hand; sincerity in his voice.

“What happened? After he shot me… what happened?” 

Lip quivering, you answer. “Nothing, really. He took me into our room and he-he held me and cried-”

He furrowed his brow at that. “He cried or you cried?”

“B-Both” You whimpered.

“Jesus”

“And he-he-he he told me I made him do it, that it’s my fault and I was a bad mom-”

Lorenzo groaned, and went to scrub his face, but yelped and winced in pain from his pistol whip. “Sweetheart, I need you to listen to me. I know I call you stupid and dumb and… I don’t understand why you stay, I really don’t… but…” He reached out and took your hand. “But this is not your fault. Even when you stay, even when you make him mad, it’s not your fault, and you are not a bad mom.”

You allow yourself to cry as he tells you, being perhaps the first person to say…

This isn’t your fault.

Two days later was when Joel left you next. You had sworn up and down you would forgive him so long as he got Lorenzo the medicine he needed, and tried your best to give him the best makeup ‘I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, Joel, I’ll do better next time, please don’t kill me’ sex you could give to smooth it all over.

The closet was locked; he kept your shoes in there, as he did any warm coats or gloves or anything that made aid in running away, but you didn’t care. You were going to the barn, you were taking a horse, and you were getting far, far away from here. You had a tinge of remorse for leaving Lorenzo; Joel will surely take it out on him, but you had gotten him his medicine and with it, a fighting chance. 

Right now, you have to run. Nothing mattered more than your baby’s life.

It was cold, crisp, but not unbearable in your sweats, socks, shirt and jacket. You had to find your way to your family farm, find Zach and go. Joel didn’t know June existed, so she was safe from his rampage… if you were lucky, your dad might be who Joel takes it out on. Joel had told you if you tried to run, Zach was the first person he’d go to… but you wondered if now that Tommy was gone, Joel might go to wherever the hell Tommy was first.

You loved Tommy, there were few people who you loved like Tommy… but you loved your child more, and you prayed that Joel would go to Tommy first, buying you and Zach some time.

As you ran through the woods, your thoughts were scurried, desperately trying to find the barn in the darkness; there were few stars and no moon, and you had never been taught a sense of direction… You weren’t sure how to get to your family farm, but Christ, you were running for your life right now. 

SMACK! You ran into a tree, no doubt adding to the horrific bruises on your face as is, but that's nothing compared to the horror of Nick’s skeleton under your body. You barely manage to cover your mouth from the scream as you fall backwards and scramble, trying desperately to get away.

As you run into a pair of legs, a hand covers your mouth this time and you scream, loud.

You are turned around and are suddenly face to face with Jack.

“Jesus fucking christ!” He whisper-shouts. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

You immediately begin begging. “Please! Please don’t tell Joel, I’ll go back! Please Jack he’ll fucking kill me, he’ll kill my baby please don’t tell-”

“Shut up!” He hisses, standing up from his crouched position to run his fingers through his hair. “Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck FUCK!” Jack begins pacing, considering his course of action. “We’re going back to the house.”

You nod obediently.  You could figure out how to escape later, right now you needed Jack to keep a secret. You’d do whatever you needed to.

“Please don’t tell him, please” You sit up on your knees, wobbling with the belly but giving your best attempt to look pretty. “I’ll do whatever you want.” You’d suck him off, he could fuck your ass

“Jesus Christ, he’s got you fucked up.” Jack turns out, groaning, before helping you stand. “Get up, we gotta talk to Lorenzo, he’ll… fuck he’ll figure something out.”

Jack started walking, and you hesitated… you aren’t sure of you can trust him… but damn if you don’t have any other options. You look back and into the woods, debating your choices.. When you see a glint of silver in the grass near the skeleton.

A jackknife, the one Joel used to skin and castrate nick. You had no weapons… so you took it. It had a smooth wood handle with an ivory inlay, with a blunted out edge… the button struck a little as you practiced switching it in and out.

Not hearing your footsteps on the leaves, Jack turns around and urges you on.

He instructed you to stay put on the side of the house. He said Joel isn’t due back for a few hours, but just in case. Not long after, a stumbling and swearing Lorenzo is walking outside under Jack’s support.

“Of all the fucking times you wanna leave, you had to chose when I’m barely alive, huh?”

“I’m so-”

He holds up a hand. “Stahp.” His boston accent was thick with irritation and pain. “I’m just fucking with yuh, kid. Let’s get you to Tommy.” He began to walk, with Jack’s help, to the barn. 

“But Zach-”

“Tommy is closer. I know where Zach was gonna take you, I’ll give Tommy the instructions.” He turned to Jack. “You need to go. Joel is gonna kill you if she and I left on your patrol.”

Jack shakes his head. “No, I don’t think he’d”

You spoke up. “He would. He told me he… he knows you and Tommy still talk. He doesn’ trust you.”

Jack groans again, rubbing his face.

Lorenzo continues. “Swing by and get Maura, anyone in proximity to this is in danger.”

“Fine, fine. Meeting in Boston?”

“Rapid City, we’re not there in 4 days, keep going. You know the plan once you get to Boston.”

You turned to Lorenzo. “Zach, Joel said-”

“Relax, sweetheart. Jack and I’ve had an escape plan ready to go just in case, and that involves your brother.”

The plan was for Jack to go to the farm and get Zach… if all went well, you’d meet up in Boston. There they’d find a friend of one of Lorenzo’s sisters, Tess, and she’d help you… You weren’t entirely sure about all of this, but Renzo would bring you to Tommy… Tommy would keep you safe.

Lorenzo wasted no time. He saddled up quickly and he and Jack helped you on the horse. You thanked Jack as he and Lorenzo hugged goodbye, and Lorenzo took off galloping for as long as his wounded body could take. He slowed down after half an hour, his weakening body slumping up against yours, telling you how to get to Jackson and what to tell Tommy should he fall over… If Lorenzo passed out and off the horse, there was no way to get him up in your condition… 

Somewhere along the lines, you  found yourself apologizing, apologizing for causing so much trouble, uprooting his life, uprooting all their lives, Tommy’s happy life in Jackson…

“Sweetheart, knock it off, I mean it.” He said in that harsh but loving tone. “Joel… he said you were nothing, that you were nothing to Tommy but that’s not true. I love you, Zach loves you, and Tommy absolutely loves you. We are doing this to give you and that baby a chance at survival.”

You continued into the night, until a group of men on horses approached with dogs.

“Lorenzo Alverano!” He shouted, and the men looked at each other. Quickly, you and Lorenzo were sniffed out for infection and hurried off into the city limits and brought to where you sound found out was Maria and Tommy’s home, the men banging on the doors.

It was Tommy who answered. 

You didn’t look like yourself at all.

Even under the dim porchlight, Tommy could see the expanse of bruises and scratches on your face, your black eye, the hanging and strangulation marks and rope burn, the busted lip, the considerable amount of fat you’d lost… and of course, your 8 month round belly.

“Oh honey…” Tommy murmured before rushing to take you in his arms. “What did he do to you?”

You cried heavily in his arms as he guided you inside where another woman watched, questioning Lorenzo on the situation at hand. You were introduced to her, Maria, and although she was straight to business, you didn’t feel unwelcomed. Tommy would care for your emotional needs, Maria was planning your escape.

It was decided when she spoke. “Lorenzo, you’ll never make it to Casper the way you are, you’re staying here.” She turns to Tommy. “Take one of the travel bags and go.”

“Maria. ” You didn’t know if he was going to protest or what, but Maria stopped him short.

“Go. She needs you.” She looked… Sad, almost, as she turned to the men. “Get Lorenzo to a safehouse with a medic.” Back to Tommy. “You, get the horse and the bag and go. There isn't much time, Joel is gonna come barreling and we need to prove you’re gone.” 

Back and forth, Tommy looked at you, then Maria, then you, then Maria… before standing up. “Okay.” and he headed out the door in a hurry.

Maria looked at you sympathetically. “Do you remember me?”

You tried to think… she looked familiar but- oh. “The first day.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Joel… I wanted to stop him, but I was trying to broker a deal to keep Jackson out of his grasp and…” Maria shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m honestly amazed you lived, knowing Joel.”

“Yeah.” You huff out. “Me too.”

“Tommy’ll get you to Boston, get you safe, take care of you…” She looked sadder, the more she talked…

“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t help but over apologize, it was ingrained in you now. “But once my babies safe, I’ll leave you and Tommy alone. He’ll be back and you’ll never hear from me again.”

She didn’t look like she believed you. “Sure. He’ll be back…” did she believe herself?

Despite Maria and Tommy’s insistence to hurry, they took their time saying goodbye, Maria grasping tightly to his body.

“I’ll be back, Maria. I swear. Get through the winter and I’ll be back first thaw, okay?”

Maria didn’t sound like she believed Tommy either.

One hand was around you, holding you tightly to him while the other guided the horse, urging it on to run as much as it could… you needed distance, as Joel likely already returned to the house and discovered you were missing by now.

It was a long while before he spoke.

“What did he do to you, honey?” It was that soft, low, ever-calming tone he used on you that never failed to make you felt into him… “How did this happen…”

You couldn’t help but tell him the story of the last 8 months since he’s been gone. The pregnancy, Lorenzo, the freedom, and exhausting housekeeping with a giant belly… How Joel began to see you as his wife, his maid, a person to make babies and clean the house… not as a person like you had thought.

Finally, you told him how Joel beat the ever-living fuck out of you, how he hung you from the tree and left you for dead… and how you called for him in your hysteria. 

Tommy rested his head on yours, taking in the smell of your hair as he apologized for not being there for you.

When it was clear you weren’t getting much further, Tommy guided the horse to an old abandoned house he knew off in the woods. Tommy knew this area well, having made this trip many times throughout the years. The sleeping bag you were sent off with was intended to be shared between two people for body heat, but not necessarily a heavily pregnant person… the fit was tight, but nonetheless 

you were comfortable in his arms. You were always comfortable in his arms.

“I’m glad you’re here, Tommy.” You spoke softly, drifting off to sleep.

“I am too, honey.” Tommy kissed the side of your face, and as the tiniest peak of light shown through the horizon, Tommy and you drifted off to the small amount of sleep you could before continuing on your journey to Boston, to start a new life.

*************

CW For a bomb threat on kids between the *******'s

*********************I work at a day care, it's week 2, and between waking up from nap and snack time we received a bomb threat. Our building evacuated around 100 kids to a nearby church. People where there to set up a anniversary party and were incredibly kind. They set up a tv for the kids to watch a movie, brought out water and crackers for our poor kids who didn't get their snack, and tissues for the teachers who were crying. its me i was teachers. I did great getting the kids to safety butt as soon as the action ended i was a mess. not long after a bunch of people arrived. My day care does child care for workers at the nearby hospital we are a part of so pretty soon lots of people where there including the hospital president, HR, and on sight counseling which I took part in. Turns out it was a middle school pulling a "prank". Law enforcement said they have never seen a building full of children evacuated that quickly and safely. Several of us are new. **************

this being said... I am exhausted. I cried a lot and my anxiety drained me... but I wrote this chapter bc writing helps me cope. So.... it's not my best writing but that's okay.

chapter 10 will probably take a while to see, because I need it to be perfect, absolutely perfect for you guys because you all deserve it. You maaaaaayyy just a small drabble bc there was a scene i wanted to include but it just didn't fit!

I go on a trip next week where I'll finally get to see Matchbx 20 who ive had tickets for since 2020 but covid ruined it lol...

I'm also working on a joel one shot for ya'll

anyway thak you all so so so much for your continued support!!!!! I love you all very very much

Reblogs are the best way to spread and support, but comments mean the world. I know not everyone likes to share dark content on their blog, but even a kind anon is such support!

Anyone got any guesses for the grand finale? I would looooove to hear some theories!!!

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[lonesome-witching]

Chivalrous

This was a very interesting prompt to write but I hope the anonymous prompter is happy with it. The idea was Robin being a chivalrous girlfriend and that is what I tried to write here.

You can send me prompts or read my previous ones.

Things had changed.

Nancy had expected things to change. Just not like this. With Steve it had been different. But then again, it wasn’t because they were best friends (soulmates, Nance, we’re soulmates) that they were the same person. 

For the past few months, years, Robin had been chivalrous. She’d opened doors for Nancy and the sentence ‘ladies first’ almost became her catchphrase. It’s just that after they started dating Nancy had expected it to stop. She had thought it was a flirting technique, that Robin had only done that to get her to like her. Which honestly had worked.  

But instead it had… escalated. 

“Robin, did you see the prices?” Nancy’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets like she was some stupid cartoon character Holly used to watch on lazy Sunday mornings. 

Robin hummed in response. 

“We can’t afford this.” Nancy lowered her voice. The last thing she wanted was one of the waiters hearing her complain about money. 

“Of course we can.” Robin smiled over the top of her menu. 

Maybe she should have expected something like this when Robin had insisted she wore the fancy red dress she had bought for a work event a year ago. Or when Robin herself had pulled on a suit that made Nancy’s mouth water and her heart skip a beat. They perfectly fit in with the old gray haired men who took their too young girlfriends here. 

“Did you win the lottery or something?” 

“Nance.” Robin laughed. 

A waiter cleared his throat before Nancy could probe or even simply comment that Robin hadn’t actually answered the question. “Are you ready to order?” 

Robin glanced at her with a questioning look in her eyes. 

“Yes, we are.” Nancy responded. She tried to quickly check which item was the cheapest but apart from the appetizers everything was out of their price range. She ended up ordering a pasta dish with a name she couldn’t properly pronounce. 

“What has gotten into you?” Nancy asked after the waiter left with both of the menus. 

“I want to treat my girlfriend to a lovely dinner, is that so weird?” 

It wasn’t just a dinner, it was also an overpriced bottle of champagne that Nancy would end up drinking most of. 

“It’s not weird but… Robin, I know we’re not exactly poor but we also don’t have to indulge like this. I’m fine with ordering pizza and cuddling on the couch.” 

For the first time that evening Robin’s smile faltered and her shoulders fell. Nancy hated it when Robin looked like this, so beautifully defeated. The doubt in her eyes reminded her of the night that they had sat across from each other, tipsy and foolish and not thinking straight, and the words that tumbled out of Robin’s mouth changing the axis Nancy’s world turned on. I really like you, Nancy, and I think it might kill me. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I love this.” She quickly added, placing her hand on Robin’s on top of the table. Forgetting about the different couples sitting around them. 

“How about we just forget about money for the rest of the night? Instead I would love to hear about the new project they’ve given you.” Robin leaned back on her seat, her hand slowly sliding further away. Neither of them fully let go, their fingertips still brushing against each other as the waiter filled their glasses with champagne. 

“You want to hear about my job?” 

“Yes, I do. It’s important to you so therefore it’s important to me.” 

And so this time it was Nancy who rambled. She rambled about Brian who had nearly stolen her project from under her nose, she rambled about the interviews that sometimes felt like a never ending torture and that often didn’t lead anywhere, she rambled about the writing she got done earlier that day and how she was proud of how the article was coming along. And when she had said all of that she rambled about Caitlin who was sleeping with her boss just for better projects and she rambled about George who flirted with her that morning and how she had turned him down as politely as she could before laughing in the bathroom. She rambled until they had finished eating, she rambled as Robin pulled the receipt toward herself and only fell quiet for a second when Robin pulled out her wallet. 

“I can pay for my food.” Nancy said, already reaching for her own purse. 

“No, no, it’s my treat, Nance.” 

“Honestly, it’s no problem, we can split it.” 

“No! I’m paying and I don’t want you to worry about it. I want to pay for you.” 

“Okay. But I’ll pay next time.” Nancy relented and when had she started relenting in the first place? 

“Did you have fun?” Robin asked as she pushed her chair back. 

“Yes, this was incredible.” Nancy smiled as she got up. It had been more than fun. It had been a breath of fresh air after a week of barely seeing each other. It had been a moment to wrap herself in Robin’s presence and finally relax and maybe they really should make this a weekly thing. Not necessarily the fancy restaurants but the going out, the being together without instantly falling asleep. 

“Good.” Robin offered up her arm for Nancy to lean onto as they walked toward the exit. “Ladies first.” She said as she pulled open the door, motioning Nancy to walk out first. 

“You know you’re a lady too, right?” Nancy laughed as she often did. 

“I might be a woman but I am no lady, Nance.” 

Nancy shivered as they started walking back to the apartment. Robin putting her hands on Nancy’s waist to pull her away from the street. According to Robin it was safer that way and Nancy would not protest any action that got Robin to put her hands on her. 

It wasn’t a long walk, not more than fifteen minutes, yet the cold was lapping at Nancy’s bare arms and this really was not an outside dress. She hugged herself, trying to keep as much of her own body warmth in her own body. The second Robin noticed, she shrugged off her blazer and placed it over Nancy’s shoulders. Robin often ran hot, she was a living furnace at night and it wasn’t all too different now. The heat still somewhat trapped in the jacket now warming up Nancy’s shoulders and arms. 

“Thank you.” Nancy’s cheeks were hurting from all the smiling she was doing. She really was getting used to this. 

It was halfway to home that Nancy’s left heel broke off the shoe. She nearly toppled forward, the only thing keeping her upright was Robin’s strong arms. 

“Nance, you okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” She sighed, leaning down to grab the broken heel. “Shit.” 

“Let me check the damage.” And right in the middle of the sidewalk Robin sank down to her knees in front of Nancy. “Oh, yeah, these are unsalvageable, Nance.” 

Nancy wasn’t sure what to reply, the image in front of her so innocent yet so obscene. 

“I think there is only one solution for this.” Robin stood back up. 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah.” Robin swooped up her girlfriend in her arms, bridal style and Nancy didn’t want to think about what that did to her. 

“What are you doing?” Nancy asked instead, even though her arms were already hanging around Robin’s neck. 

“Carrying you home. I’m not letting you walk barefoot on this dirty pavement.” 

“You’re going to carry me all the way home?” 

“I’ll carry you anywhere you want to go.” 

And god dammit, Nancy was in love.

[anonymous-dentist]

hii! i havent been able to keep up with the lore since the theory bros and stuff. could you give a quick rundown of everything involving the eggs, binary monster cucurucho and stuff? (i didn't know who else to ask)

I'll do my best! :D

SO I'm actually going to start by talking about Arin, who is the consciousness that sometimes inhabits q!Luzu's body.

Arin says he is not an AI, but he is from "another world", and, most importantly, he can see code. He knew when the eggs arrived because of the change in code.

Arin is actively being hunted by the Binary Guys. He's also building a machine to connect his world and the qsmp so he can try and bring Tilin back to life, and that's important because that machine is one of the things that the Theory Bros are looking into.

And now, the Theory Bros.

The Theory Bros are made up of q!Bad, q!Maximus, q!Foolish, and now q!Cellbit, who is fucking smart, btw. There are also some new members who are just kinda hanging out? Like q!Phil, who is the babysitter, and q!Roier, who is just kinda hanging out tbh, and now English q!Quackity, who is notably separate from Hispanic q!Quackity.

The group was originally founded by Bad, Maximus, and Foolish shortly after Trump Egg's death, and now it's developed into a society dedicated to solving the mystery of the island and, most importantly, escaping the island.

They didn't get super far until recently when the Brazilians showed up, because it turns out that Cellbit is like a professional ARG maker and solver. His character is also just a little bit insane I think, but that's not super important.

They have a bunch of secret bases set up, and Foolish has. His living room.

But every time they've gotten anywhere, something has happened to keep them from making progress. Sometimes it's the Binary Monsters, sometimes it's Cucurucho, sometimes it's their own arguments. And sometimes? Sometimes it's the eggs.

The Eggs.

The Eggs all showed up as part of an event that started in like mid-April if I remember correctly. Basically, the island was split into a bunch of pairs- one English speaker and one Spanish speaker- and they were supposed to take care of an egg. Whoever kept their egg the happiest would get a reward when the eggs' mother, a Fucking Dragon, showed up. Whoever's eggs had died would be horribly punished.

This is fine, but it gets interesting not even a week into the event when Cucurucho tells q!Roier not to touch his egg and not to trust it. Roier has not, to my knowledge, mentioned this to anyone because he's a secretive bastard.

And then some eggs died and there was a funeral. The dead parents got to say a goodbye to their eggs in a room under the cemetery. Angel Rubius (suspicious) was there, as was Cucurucho, and the whole thing was sponsored by the QSMP Federation. At said funeral, the "dead" Trump (the Egg) said that "they" are scary, not mentioning anybody by name, but him saying that and then immediately getting shut up kinda set Maximus off on his theory stuff full-force.

Since then, the eggs have been really kinda sus, some more than others. Leonarda said that her best friend was Cucurucho, and she's also kinda been on a whole 'hey dad don't look too deep into anything' kick recently. And then there was a secret Federation torture tunnel beneath Richarlyson's house, and then there is the sudden and spontaneous appearances of both Tallulah and Richarlyson. And then there are the Weird Things.

Because the eggs were supposed to die a few weeks ago. A hijacked island announcement said as much, and then, on the day of their supposed deaths, the eggs disappeared and came back with cracks in them. Since then, they have been increasingly attacked by the Binary Monsters, and that's weird.

The Binary Monsters

So the Binary Monsters first showed up on a Philza stream from April. He and Fit killed one, and then we didn't see one again until Luzu's reappearance on the server after a hiatus. During that stream, Arin reappeared, and so did the Binary Monsters.

Since then, the Monsters have showed up attacking vulnerable eggs. They seem to go after eggs alone with one parent- case in point being Philza in a stream recently when he was alone with the eggs and then a Monster killing Bobby while he was alone with Roier in the middle of nowhere.

The Binary Monsters have Binary Names! :D They seem to be naming themselves after... things? One of them had a name that translated to '777', which was interesting because it was the one attacking Foolish and Leonarda right outside of Vegetta's house right after Vegetta had logged off.

Cellbit has the theory that the eggs and the Binary Monsters are related. He also has the theory that the Binary Monsters and Cucurucho are related.

Cucurucho

We all know Cucurucho, also known as Osito Bimbo, also known as the QSMP Census Bureau Creature. It uses it/its pronouns, and so that is what I will be using.

Cucurucho has been hanging around since day one of the server. It does Census Bureau Things. It also flirts with Roier sometimes.

But starting at around the time the eggs showed up, Cucurucho has been a bit more distant. By that, I mean that it's been stalking people in the background of their streams, teleporting around and following them and scaring the shit out of them. It's been paying close attention to the Theory Bros, especially q!Max and q!Cellbit, though it is also Leonarda's friend. It watches q!Slime sleep sometimes, which is normal behavior for sure.

It has a good time watching people suffer. It laughs when players are in pain. Sometimes it even blows bubbles. I may be biased, but I love it.

The other night, Cucurucho showed up to get Cellbit to stop building a villager farm (which is illegal on the server.) It then proceeded to chase him down a Torture Hallway, laugh when he died, laugh when he saw his corpse and freaked out, and then they had a question and answering session.

To summarize the various q and a sessions from the past few weeks: Cucurucho doesn't know what the Binary Monsters are, and it is ambiguously part of the Federation. Its purpose seems to be to make sure people are happy. When asked who's keeping everyone on the island, it responded with 'quack', and then it mentioned a 'host' in a later interrogation. It doesn't like the eggs very much, but as long as the island's inhabitants are happy, then it doesn't mind them (the eggs.)

TLDR; Weird shit is happening on the island, but don't worry, because it's all going to be fine :)

I obviously don't know everything because I can't watch every stream and I do only speak English, but I hope this recap helps a little! :D

[voidandradiance]

for the fanfic ask game: F and/or L?

(F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

and

L: How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?)

F: share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes

...Somehow, she manages to look wounded at his words, her hands coming up to cradle her own elbows. "You've changed," she says, like it's some kind of surprise. "And you're going to do something foolish, aren't you? That's why you wanted me here. That's why you asked me to come." He doesn't bother to deny it. "I won't help you be a fool, Steve," she says. "I know I can't convince you to be anything else, but I won't help you do it. This can only end badly." Steve closes his eyes, just as surely as she's closed hers. "Sometimes it's worth it," he replies, knowing even before the words are out that they won't make a difference. She isn't going to listen. He has to say it anyway, for his own sanity, for his own sake. "Aren't you tired, Martha? Aren't you tired of letting this happen? Even if you fail, don't you want to try?"

this bit from punchline. it's the only martha speech pattern that i feel fully confident in, but it's also just so telling for her and steve as characters. totally down for treason / scared of having a spine situationship forever and ever. both looking big picture but one of them has blinders and the other is just blind. everything is always about themself only.

L: how many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

lord. too many and not enough. some things languish in my drive for months or years in edits/rewrites, some things i hammer out and post in two days. anything with a death, torture, or fight scene goes through my beautiful wonderful beta and resident violence expert, but otherwise it's all over the place

[rosewritesfy]

Hi y’all! This is the First chapter of my new fanfic as seen above, it’s a Ramsay Bolton fanfic. It will switch between multiple characters povs, but mostly his and our main character my OC! Trinity Snow! ‘Bastard’ daughter of Ned Stark and younger sister to Jon, so in this fic, Jon was born a like two years before her, so he was two, when Lyanna gave them to him. Ty! Pls like, comment, and repost! I will write for any fandom, just give me names, and what you want and I’ll write it, stay safe little my roses ||🌹 🎀💕||

It was cold. Dark. The dungeons of Winterfell were underground. I couldn’t tell if it we’re night or not. How did I get here? I wondered. Only a few years ago, I’d lived here. As a bastard of course but still. I know what your thinking, Trinity how can you be so foolish? Haven’t I always been? I fell in love with a man who liked to torture people. But I knew him. He was better than this. Though that did not excuse his actions. Ramsay Bolton. A man many feared. As a kid he’d been so gentle and kind. Never mean to anyone. As he got older he became more and more obsessed with being Naturalized. Being a true Bolton. We shared this cell. And not too long ago, he’d been fighting my brother. He killed Rickon. And now I was stuck here. With a Man I should hate. Where did I go wrong? When did I make the wrong choice? Was it when I let Theon take me prisoner to save bran? No. When I offered to marry him, before he’d have to marry someone else? No. When I fled from winterfell not long ago to warn Jon? Maybe. When I let Theon kill Myranda? Someone who held the attention of the man I loved? No. When I betrayed my family to save him. Yes. But if you really think about it, it might have been that fateful day when I let my father go to kings landing. Yes let’s start there.

Two years ago;

“Arya! Give Sansa back her hair ribbon!”

“Mm, no! You’ll have to take it!”

“Arya Stark! A lady shouldn’t be running around the castle!” Said Robb, teasing of course, Arya was his favorite sibling.

“Sansa what did you do it make her take it?” I said weary. I was Sansa age of course, and I knew how she felt, Arya was tricky to handle but a joy to have around. Those two fight too much.

“I didn’t do anything, Trinity! I swear it!”

“Liar!”

“Arya did Sansa say or do something? And don’t yell, you’ll wake up Rickon and Bran.”

“Yes she did, she said I need to act more properly.” Arya said as she crossed her arms and pouted.

“Arya darling you don’t have to. Now how about you hand me the ribbon, and me and Jon will teach you how to shoot a bow, yeah?” Robb said as he knelt down to Arya’s height, hand held out.

“Fine. But only if Trinity comes too!” She said as she handed Robb the ribbon, which he then gave it Sansa who turned and walked away, with a stern look on her face.

“I’ll come just let me get changed. And you too, Arya Stark, you can’t run around your night clothes again.” I said as I got up and headed to my room. Today was going to be a long day. I made my way to my room, and grabbed the dress I’d made. Lady stark taught me and Sansa, and now she taught Arya. I was good. But I didn’t really like wearing the same type of dress over and over. So I had asked our aunt, Lysa who came to visit from the south, to borrow on of her dresses. And since then I’ve been making myself southern styled dresses instead. Sansa wanted to as well, but Lady stark said Sansa should wait. The dresses were a bit showy. Sansa pouted but I promised I teach her how once she was old enough as if we weren’t both 13.

I picked out a blue dress. It was made of a pale blue material. And a white under dress. With billowy sleeves. I was only in my chemise right now, so I threw on the under dress, then the over dress, and with the help of a made, laced it up. I brushed my hair, and slipped on my stockings and my shoes.

I walked towards the archery range, where Robb, Arya and Jon stood. Theon, Rickon and Bran, all sat on the grass as Theon supposedly told them a story. I joined Jon, on the right side of Arya, and watched as Robb tried to teach an impatient Arya the safe way ti shoot.

“What took you so long, sister?”

“I couldn’t lace up my dress on my own. I had a maid help me, brother. They seemed too occupied to notice if I slip away…”

“Are you really going to leave now? Surely you have something’s to do, sweet sister.”

“Mind you, I want to talk ti my friends. I’ll back in time to break fast with you guys.”

“Did you ask father, sweet sister?”

“I asked both him and lady stark. They said it was fine as long as I’m back soon, if Arya notices im gone cover for me, dear brother.”

“Alright.”

I nodded and made my way to stables where I saddled a horse, and set of for where the Boltons were currently staying. Not far from here. They’d been invited since the king was coming to see my father. We we’re having a feast. Once I got there, a maid answered the door, and I said I was here for Ramsay, she shyly nodded when I mentioned him, and went to fetch him. Of course Ramsay would sleep with a maid. Of all people. Ramsay came out with a grin.

“Thought I’d have to wait till the feast to see you, Trin.”

“As if. Not letting my best friend, wait to see me.”

“And how long are you staying this time? I can have them set up an extra chair at the table. You can break our fast with us?” I hated to see the hope in his eyes, must have missed his best friend.

“I can’t stay long, I’ll come and see you after our guests arrive though. Just wanted to see how you were.”

“Oh…No I understand. It’s alright, we’re fine by the way. You should probably get going. Yeah?”

“I should. Goodbye Ramsay. I’ll see you later then.” I said as I smiled and watched him go back inside and close the door. From there I left for back to winterfell. When I arrived Jon and Arya were still at the archery targets. Robb now sat with Rickon, while Bran and Theon walked up to me, as I dismounted my horse.

“And where have you been, Trinity?”

“I’ve been to see my friends, Greyjoy.” I teased him, as I saw bran smile and come to hug me.

“We must get back inside, don’t want to miss breakfast.” said Theon as we all started to walk inside. Lady stark, sat by my father at the table, and we all started to file into the room.

“Girls, I want you to be on your best behavior when we greet the king and his family later.” Lady stark said as me and Sansa sat down. Of course she was worried. Even if father was friends with the king we’d need to be good.

“We will be. Won’t we Sansa?”

“Yes mother we will be.”

Lady stark nodded and we all broke into conversations and started to eat. Later that day it was fun time to greet the king and his family. Lady stark had all of her kids, in order of oldest to youngest. Me and Jon stood behind Her and our father. The king was a fat man, with white skin, and puffy eyes. He greeted my father with a joke, and Lady stark kindly. The queen was second to arrive with their kids. She was beautiful, with golden hair, a delicate figure, and the red gown she wore was exquisite. Her son and the eldest was my age. He looked like a prick. Him and Theon would get along well. When everyone was done greeting each other. I slipped away to visit Ramsay as I promised. When I got to where him and his father were staying, he stood in the front, with a girl in his arms, they were kissing. It bothered me and I knew why. I had a crush on him. Of course I did. He was handsome. I let out a fake cough to let them know I was there. Ramsay and the girl stopped kissing and he looked at me with wide eyes, before smiling and walking towards me with the girl.

“This is Myranda, a new friend of mine.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Myranda.” I said politely, I was a good liar. Always had been, not even he could tell when I was lying. She was beautiful, more so than I could ever be. At least in my opinion.

“It is. Ramsay says only good things about you.” She said, but it wasn’t fake it was genuine kindness. Odd, most girls I met that Ramsay was with were rude to me.

“Well I must be going. Really only came to say hello. I’ll see you both at the feast then.” I said as nicely as possible before quickly getting back on my horse and riding away. Not looking back to smile at him like I usually did. Not to see the look of hurt that passed his face, not to see him tell Myranda to leave.

(Ramsay’s POV)

She left. I didn’t know if I upset her. She was my friend. My best friend of course. My only true friend. She was beautiful, and kind. And smart too. And I was completely head over heels for someone who didn’t want me. I should be able to have whoever I want. But not this time, not her. She didn’t know the many nights I lay in bed with other woman, pretending they were her. They weren’t. No one came close. And I stood there thinking maybe I should tell her at the feast.

[honda-hatch]

On Invincible "vs." The Boys

A ramble that is 100% subjective and in no way objective

It's kinda goofy how these two properties got melded together by the cultural zeitgeist that swept both of them up at similar times. Both were on Amazon, both were violent, both were seen as parodies of the current trend of superhero media (which, depending on who you ask, was starting its current downward slide in 2020 between the pandemic damaging theatre-going on top of 2019's Endgame).

Now, both Invincible and the Boys were originally post-9/11 comics, but frankly, I have no idea if these two would have been compared in their original release timeframe (with Invincible starting in 2003(?) and The Boys in 2006(?)). Now, the The Boys started in mid 2019 and Invincible in 2021, yet you'll still see memes of both used here and there (even if the Boys has three seasons and Invincible is only coming up on its second now), and I'll still see people trying to compare them, as if they're similar.

See, I never really saw it that way. The Boys (both versions of it, despite their differences) is a satire of comic book superheroes. Garth Ennis infamously hated them, and post-9/11 was full of jaded comics and media (particularly horror movies). Even if we were far from the comical violence of 80s action and horror, post-9/11 is when realistic violence and torture porn came into vogue. In my opinion, the comic is terrible. Nobody is particularly likable, it's jaded to the extreme, and is filled with lots of sexual violence, and a borderline pointless resolution. I watched and enjoyed the first two seasons of the show, but I never felt compelled to watch the third after seeing that they were going to be messing with compound V and everything (much like they did in the original comic). Now I'm not denouncing the show as overall bad because they made a creative decision or whatever, it just made me ponder why I opted to tear through all of the Invincible comics in three days instead of watching The Boys season 3.

I think, oftentimes, extended satire can kinda lose sight of what its doing. Either it just becomes self-parodying or just kinda burns itself out. I'm sure there are exceptions, but I think intense genre satire works better when its in a limited form, whether it be a limited series, a movie, or a oneshot issue/episode. It allows itself to covers everything it wants, make all the jokes it needs to, without requiring a greater investment.

I'm not saying that's a surefire way for things to work, of course. I'm barely a creative. Maybe I'm just spewing bullshit. But it does connect to why I enjoy Invincible so much in comparison to it.

Now, the Invincible comics are far from perfect. I am, admittedly, a Robert Kirkman fan, but I can't understand how he managed to write so many incredibly poor female characters in the series. There are plenty of flashes of brilliance (namely stuff like Eve's origin and a lot of Monster Girl material, but I digress),yet overall, the female characters come off as foolish and overly vulnerable, which is especially ridiculous in Eve's case. Still, Mark and his father are riveting characters. They make mistakes, they learn from them, they grow, and they have complete arcs. The comics do a great job slowly expanding the universe into something that feels like it could be expanded upon, and yet, it doesn't *need* to, and has a great ending. Even having an ending is an achievement for many pieces of serialized material, and Invincible's left me genuinely content.

The show, so far, is measurably better than the comic, with Kirkman seemingly growing from his previous experiences (or perhaps just having a clever writing room that knows how to polish his material well). Women are actually three-dimensional, and not just through breaking character! What a revelation. But the real wonder of it all is the fact that Invincible remained what it was, even in the current era: a more mature superhero story.

It's not really a satire overall. It pokes fun, parodies classic heroes, sure. But Mark's story is genuinely one of becoming an incredible superhero. Yeah, there's blood, there's gore, etc, etc. But ultimately, Mark's story is about becoming stronger to save people. Not just his whole planet, but the universe.

There is a more genuine tone to The Boys TV series. There is an idea of taking down The Man that seeks to screw over the commonfolk, but revenge takes center stage most of the time. The same idea of revenge that Ennis wanted to inflict back in 2006. Yeah, its more obvious that the human characters (or Hughie, at the very least) are more "Heroic" than most of the actual "Heroes." But that can only be displayed so many times over and over. I have no doubt that season 3 of the Boys is at least good, if not iconic, but I just find it easier these days to invest myself that have a more genuine core. I don't mind re-experiencing Mark's story because of that genuine story

Sure, both have an interesting "EVIL SUPERMAN" character (side note: 99% of the Invincible cast could instantly body homelander. Folks who think lasers are OP have not consumed Invincible). But as a good friend likes to point out, Omniman is more like "if Superman's dad was evil." Even if what made Omniman iconic to the public was his beatdown of Mark, that's just the starting point for an incredible character, one who does an excellent job of representing the story's message of hope. Homelander is interesting, but I can't find a lot of his stuff as compelling. I know its funny and cool to have so much of his freakishness culminate in perversion and cruelty, but eh. Omniman just works better for me.

I'm crazy, I'm nuts, I'm crazy, this isn't well-reseacrhed, yadda yadda. Shut up, I'm rambling about why I don't care to continue watching the Boys but I'm so jazzed about Invincible. I'll save genuine critical writing for my damn grad courses.

Anyway, this is probably all pretty dumb. Maybe I just get tired of self-referential humor. And like I said, there are great satires. But that's not what I'm rambling about right now. Fuck it

I want Mark's gloves

[dykesymmetry]

yesterday i made a poll asking people which dsmp characters were dilfs/milfs, and proceeded to get way too many anons with very strong opinions. anyway results from the poll under the cut because this one’s a long one boys

obligatory reminder that these are all jokes about the characters. don’t take it too seriously it’s all for the hahas

captain sparkles

results:

comments:

response: oh so now you fuckers wanna play the dad card. for months now i’ve been saying “stop calling philza minecraft a dilf he is my father” and you all laughed at me. and now you want my sympathy? fuck you. god may forgive your sins but i will not.

conclusion: yes, captain sparkles is a dilf

awesamdude

results:

comments:

response: i agree with both of these. same would be a milf but does not have any -ilf status on account of him being a cop. maybe you should think about that next time before sanctioning torture in your prison and chopping off your boyfriend’s arm sam.

conclusion: no, awesamdude is not a milf

foolish

results:

comments:

response: gonna be honest, this one really surprised me. i thought y’all would jump on dilf foolish but apparently being a himbo overrules that. i’m inclined to agree, but he might grow into the dilf title someday. you never know.

conclusion: no, foolish is not a dilf (yet)

captain puffy

results:

comments:

response: antfrost’s death aka top 10 girlboss moments on the dsmp

conclusion: yes, captain puffy is a dilf

wilbur soot

results:

comments:

response: this one was fun to watch because it’s been hovering around 50-50 for the entire time the poll was open. definitely the most controversial option here, and the comments just make it more confusing. this one might come down to personal taste tbh

conclusion: wilbur is the dsmp’s sluttiest absent father. up to you personally to decide whether that qualifies as dilfhood

jschlatt

results:

comments:

response: i feel the need to remind y’all that while dadschlatt may be a very popular au, it is not canon. schlatt has no kids and is simply a slutty republican (derogatory).

conclusion: no, schlatt is not a dilf

quackity

results:

comments:

response: very interesting anecdote here, but i agree with the first comment. much like schlatt, quackity only has kids in dadschlatt aus, and therefore does not qualify for milfhood.

conclusion: no, quackity is only a milf in spirit

skeppy

results:

comments:

response: not sure why eating doritos disqualifies you from milfhood, but there seems to be a pretty clear conclusion here. good job on agreeing on something for once

conclusion: no, skeppy is not a milf

badboyhalo

results:

comments:

response: nice tits demonboy

conclusion: yes, badboyhalo is a milf

niki nihachu

results:

comments:

response: the last comment here really puts into words why i was a bit reluctant to include her in this poll. while technically a step-mom to foolish, if the puffychu engagement is considered, she’s not motherly in the slightest and should be allowed to commit arson as she wishes.

conclusion: no, niki is not a milf, but she is very hot

eret

results:

comments:

response: eret deserves everything, up to and including milf status. their red banquet dress really solidified this in my opinion. have fun with foolish hope you get your memories back <3

conclusion: yes, eret is a milf

mumza/kristin/goddess of death

results:

comments:

response: gonna be honest, the only reason i included mumza is because y’all came banging on my door at 8 in the fucking morning demanding i add her to this discourse. but if hades proves anything, it’s that goddesses of death seem predisposed towards milfhood.

conclusion: yes, the goddess of death is a milf

technoblade

results:

comments:

response: ok i’ll be honest here. i did rig this question simply because i think pigboy is hot. an argument can be made, between both ranboo and wilbur, but i’m not quite motivated enough to start that. i am fascinated by the implication that you cannot be both a milf and an anarchist i’m not entirely sure that’s how that works.

conclusion: no, techno is not a milf. but he is hot

philza minecraft

results:

comments:

response: :)

conclusion: no, philza minecraft is not a dilf

final conclusion:

dilfs: captain sparkles, puffy

milfs: badboyhalo, eret

just hot: niki, technoblade

favorite comments:

[visionofhope04]

Hii I was lowkey wondering if you would do something maybe like a one shot of neglected where reader is older (18-20) and dipped out of the house and became a singer and one of her songs basically exposed them for how they treated reader and in like an interview she full on tells them how she doesn’t even talk to them and like only Jason

This is literally perfect. I love this idea! I was planning on making a singer batsis reader anyway so here you go! I'll be making this part 4 of the series instead of a one shot. There’s a bit of angst. Btw, thanks so much for your support everyone! I'm glad you enjoy this series! Feel free to request anything you'd like besides smut as well!

This is the longest thing I have ever written so there will be a part 5. I planned on this being the last part but it's just so much. It’s not proofread and neither are all of the other parts because I post at 1 am most of the time lol. Hope you like it!

f/n = friend name

Y/G/N = your group name

N/S = news station

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 (Current) Part 5

---

You were sick of it. Sick of how even after confronting them about how you felt and almost dying because of it, they still neglected you. You couldn't wait to move out at the age of 18, even if it proved to be a struggle. You had taken mini jobs since you turned 15 and saved up since then. You just couldn't see them anymore as it would remind you of how they treated you that day at that hospital. None of them apologized either. They just pretended it never happened and continued to ignore you. The media had a field day with speculation of what had happened but eventually stopped because Bruce had claimed it was “just a bad case of the flu” which they believed.

Jason was always the only one that would talk to you. He was the only one that actually cared enough to make sure you were taking proper care of yourself and that you wouldn't have a repeat of what happened. He took you places, spent time with you and gave you advice. You even had a tradition where you'd always meet up at the manor's library every week at the same time that same day every week and just have a mini book club together. He always made time for you and never bailed on you.

So on your 18th birthday, he helped you move out. You managed to rent a small apartment in Star City with the money you had saved up. It wasn’t that close to the manor which was a good thing. The neighborhood wasn’t good but it wasn’t as bad as Gotham’s neighborhoods so you would be fine. You could handle yourself with your assassin training if needed. You also managed to get hired at a cafe which was about a five minutes walking distance from your apartment.

It had taken a while but eventually, you had packed all of your belongings into color coded containers and moved them into Jason’s car with his help. You didn’t say goodbye to anyone as you had no friends to say bye to and you knew that your so called “family” couldn’t care less about what you did with your life. ‘This is it, hopefully the last time I’ll ever be near this place.’ You thought. You didn’t plan on stepping foot in Gotham ever again after you left. It would bring back too many memories you prefer to keep buried away deep inside your mind.

The car ride to Star City was entertaining. You and Jason conversed the whole time, telling jokes and listening to his funny tales with the radio playing softly in the background. Eventually, a song you both loved came on and you both started yell-singing along to the lyrics. You wished those moments could be permanent. You were both so carefree and nothing else mattered besides having fun and enjoying yourselves.

You now stood in the doorway of your new apartment, admiring your new home. Jason and yourself had just finished unpacking all of your belongings. You really liked how it looked and thought you both did an amazing job at designing the place perfectly according to your style. Jason, unfortunately, had to leave in order to avoid raising suspicions. Once you both said your byes, he left you to your apartment.

Jason drove back home in silence. He hated to admit it but he would miss you dearly. You were always there for him and helped him with anything. You tried your best to always comfort him and make him feel better on his darkest days and it would always work. Somehow you seemed to always have the right words to say or knew exactly what to do to help him. Out of everyone he was closest to you. He assumed it was because he could relate to you the most. More so how you felt. He’d felt like the black sheep of the family before you came, and he was. When you came, you took that role from him. It pained him to see how much their insults would affect you, even if you were good at hiding it. He could just tell.

Jason made it back to the manor after a while and went straight to the library. He didn't want to deal with the others. After the whole hospital situation, he'd never really bother interacting with them. He hated how they treated you as if you didn’t exist and hated how much pain they had caused you and that they didn’t even care. He guessed that they'd probably be doing something for Damian's birthday and forgot that you were his twin. They probably couldn’t even remember that Damian had a twin.

He made it to the library and pulled out one of his favorite books. He’d read it so many times you’d often joke that he could probably recite the whole book by heart at this point. Sitting down in a chair, he started to read. However, he couldn’t bring himself to stop thinking about what it would’ve been like if they treated you how they did Damian. The both of you were Bruce’s real children. You both even looked like clones of him! At first, Jason thought you would’ve been the favorite twin due to your personality. Even though you were twins, your personalities were polar opposites. You even refused to kill! You were trained by the League so why didn’t you kill as Damian did?

Jason knew you would benefit them greatly if you joined. You had self control, didn’t kill, could act perfectly, lie perfectly, do well under pressure, and not to mention your skills. Being raised by the League may have been torture, but you managed to gain incredible skills out of it. You could take on at least ten guys who doubled you in size and beat them within five minutes. You even bested Damian in spars and he was supposedly dubbed the “better twin” by Talia, so why hadn’t they let you join their nightly crusades like they had let Damian when the both of you first arrived?

Damian passed by your room but noticed something was off. He decided to take a look. He twisted the doorknob and pushed. The room which was once occupied by you now looked extremely plain and bare, stripped of all of its accessories. The only things left were the bed itself, multiple dressers, and a vanity. It looked as if it had been vacant the whole time. It might as well have been. Damian couldn’t really remember what it had looked like since he’s never paid much mind to it but he could tell there was a drastic difference. He knew that you disliked just leaving your room plain unlike himself and wanted at least something to make it look less boring.

He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. Had you finally been kicked out by Bruce? Did you get shipped off to a boarding school like he had been suggesting to your father for years? He decided to go ask. He exited the room and closed the door behind him, taking off for Bruce’s office. Walking down the hall, he suddenly remembered that he had seen you leave with Jason. This meant that you were not at a boarding school like he had originally thought. But then why was your room vacant?

Instead of going to see Bruce, he decided to go see Jason and bring up the matter with him instead. He changed directions and headed to the library where he knew he’d find Jason. It was no secret that Jason was a book worm so Damian had a fifty percent chance of finding him there.

He entered the library and was immediately greeted with the sight of Jason sitting comfortably on a chair, legs crossed with a book opened in his hands. Jason didn’t bother to look up from his book as he spoke.

“What do you want Demon Spawn?”

“I’ve come to obtain the whereabouts of my sister.”

“You mean my sister?”

“She’s not your sister!” Damian exclaimed.

“Well I act more like a brother than you do.”

“Where is Y/N? Her whole room is bare.”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“Just tell me, you imbecile!” Damian said, growing increasingly frustrated by Jason’s blunt answers.

“She’s not here.”

“Then where is she?”

“Not here.”

“Just tell me already Todd, I have no time for your foolish games!”

“She moved out.” Jason said, giving in.

“What?! Where.” Damian demanded.

“Why would I tell you?”

“Because I demand to know!”

“Okay and?”

“Tell me!”

“No.”

“Why not!”

“Because you don’t even care.”

“And you do?”

“Yes, I actually do Damian! I’m there for her when she needs me the most. I’m there for her while she’s watching you live the perfect life that she’s just a background character in! While you and the others ignore that she even exists! I’m there for her when she breaks down and has panic attacks! And what were you all doing to try and help her? Nothing! Absolutely nothing!” Jason snapped.

“Y/N’s fine, I know my twin!” Damian screamed.

“Do you even know what her favorite color is?” Jason questioned in a harsh tone.

“...” Was Damian’s reply.

“Exactly! You don’t! You and the others have never cared about her, so why all of a sudden do you care now? You don’t know anything about her so don’t act like you do!” Jason then stood up and walked out of the room in a fit of rage.

Damian stood there, shocked. Had Jason just refused to answer his question? He was about to follow him but decided against it. Why was Damian going to chase Jason down just for her? She was just an annoyance, a mistake, imperfect. He had been wanting to get rid of her for so long, so why doesn’t he feel relieved? Why does he feel guilty? He decided to stop dwelling on it and get on with life. He figured it would happen eventually if it hadn’t happened then.

---

It had been a year since that day. The day you left your old life behind and started a new life, a better one. One where you weren’t constantly ignored. One where you actually had more than one person care about you. Instead of seeing yourself as a failure and disappointment, you now saw yourself as an amazing person (which you always were). You had been going to a community college in Star City. You made many friends there and started up a music career with three of them.

Their names were f/n, f/n and f/n. You all started off by taking random gigs anywhere you could. You performed covers of songs and would receive standing ovations all the time. Seeing as your group was well liked, you decided to write and produce your own songs. At the age of 19, Y/G/N released their first album. It went viral within a day and everyone was talking about it. After a week, several articles were posted, praising your work. News Stations talked about all the records Y/G/N managed to break. People started to stream it like crazy, and you couldn’t be happier with all the positive feedback you were receiving.

You had been a Wayne once, meaning you had experience in dealing with the media. Since you had already been used to it, you knew you’d all eventually be invited to interviews. So, when you had received an email stating how N/S wanted a one on one interview with you, you weren’t sure how to feel. You weren’t looking forward to interviews with your whole group, let alone one where you would be alone. You knew how unfiltered interviewers could be and didn’t feel comfortable with it.

However, you decided it would be best to go. So here you were, sitting in front of the interviewer in an uncomfortable chair preparing for the interview to start. You had somehow managed to keep a smile plastered on your face the entire time while you were a nervous wreck on the inside. You hoped none of the questions would be sexist as they usually were towards women. However, you had no more time to think about that. You heard clicking, signaling that you were about to go live. Once you heard the last click, you knew you were live and the interview had begun.

“Hello everyone, welcome back to N/S. My name is Jerald Tangleberry and I’m here today with songwriter, singer, and celebrity, Y/N Wayne! How are you?”

You waved to the camera and then answered, “Hello everyone! I’m doing good, how about you?”

“I’m doing great, thanks for asking! So by now I’d assume everyone knows that you’ve released an album with your group. How does it feel to gain more fame?”

“It doesn’t feel any different. Fame wasn’t our goal when we released the album. It was to express ourselves.”

“Mhm, well Ms. Wayne, what inspired you to write songs?”

“Well we know people may be in a tough spot in their life right now and want them to know they aren’t alone.”

“That’s so true. Some fans have been speculating that every member has three songs that specifically relate to them since there are twelve songs in total and three of the songs have the same group member as the introduction part of the song. Is this true?”

“Yes, it is true.”

“So all three of your songs relate to family issues of some sort. Is that hinting that you have family issues?”

“Yes, actually. My family isn’t the best. They ignored me all the time, even when they weren't busy. The only person who didn’t was Jason.”

“You’re saying it in the past tense.”

“I moved out about a year ago. When I was around 14, I suffered from anorexia. My family would always ignore me since they were either busy doing work or hanging out with each other. The only family member that acknowledged me was Jason. I assumed it was because there was something wrong with me. I started to hate myself so much to the point of starvation. One day, I passed out right before a gala and my oldest brother Dick found me passed out on the floor. They took me to the hospital and when I woke up, Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian started fussing about how I’d ruin their image if the media knew what actually happened. They started to yell at me and told me how I was a useless burden. I started to have a panic attack so I kicked them out. Jason stayed behind with me and comforted me. Ever since then I made a planed to save enough money so I could move out when I turned 18, which I did.”

“Oh, wow. So Jason was the only one who interacted with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Looks like the Wayne family isn’t as perfect as they seem.”

“No family is actually perfect.”

“Did your family try contacting you at all after they found out about Y/G/N?”

“Not yet. They’re probably too busy or don’t care.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright, I got over it. What’s the next question.”

“Oh-” He cleared his throat and continued the interview. (So basically I don’t wanna bore you all lol)

---

Jason had woken up late into the afternoon that day. Patrol that morning had exhausted him. There was a huge breakout at Arkham they had assisted with. They successfully locked up every escapee, so today, Jason just wanted to relax until it would be time for patrol again. Even though he was exhausted, he knew he couldn’t take a break. The others wouldn’t and it would be unfair to them if he did.

He headed over to his couch with his phone and a bowl of popcorn in hand, ready to watch random movies the entirety of the day. He set down his phone on the coffee tables and grabbed the TV remote. When he turned on the TV, he almost dropped the popcorn and remote. You were sitting on a chair, giving an award winning smile while you politely answered the man’s questions. He was baffled. He didn’t know why you were being interviewed, let alone on TV at all! You made it clear you didn’t want to have any relations with your family any longer and you couldn’t stand publicity, so what were you doing?

He placed the bowl down and snatched his phone off the table. Unlocking his phone, he quickly dialed your phone number. However, he realized that the interview was live and that he would be interrupting it if he called you then. Deciding to wait, he placed his phone back down, picked up the bowl, and then got comfortable.

---

Tag list: @fake-id-69 @pepelachanel @loxbbg @what-0-life @yoongi-holland @omnivorousfangirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @sexysamsungl @iceddonuts @buginetye @portrait-ninja @azazel-nyx @alculai

[yandere-mc-yt]

Yandere DS/MP Slasher/Serial Killer Au

Just throwing out some hcs for a few characters off the top of my head :)

Warnings: Yandere Themes, obsessiveness, possessiveness, stalking mentioned, murder, violence mentioned, love at first sight(?), jealousy mentioned, suggestive

Dream

Alright. Throwing it out there: MANHUNT.

Dream's hunting grounds is definitely some small town with large farms or wooded areas around- just places with with not a lot of people at once.

Loves to stalk his pray for sometime but will always kill them in the same day. He tends to leave his victims where he killed them. Most likely dismembered. He likes dismembering people.

He loves the thrill of the hunt- his sole reason for killing someone is that he likes to hunt for sport.....

....which makes him stalking his darling for longer than a day after he first catches sight of them very strange. Something about this one tickles his fancy and he doesn't know why.

Dream ends up going a whole month without killing a single person becuase he's been so fixated on them and it freaks him out. He makes a sloppy kill for the first time in years..... he blames his darling. He needs to punish his darling.

Poor darling starts getting stalked a lot more and their friends start to disapear left and right- most ending up in the hospital and dying of their wounds. It'll probably take them a while to realize they're being stalked becuase Dream is that good at what he does.

When he can't take being at a distance anymore, they might wake up to a man in a smiley mask standing above them with a bloody hunting knife.

Technoblade

Reminiscent of Jason and the Texas Chainsaw killer. He's just hard to run into unless you're a member of a dumb group of friends going to abandoned cabins or camps in the middle of the woods for clout or something.

Where's a wild boarskull and a lot of animal skins/leather. Wild stinky man with an axe and a lot of bloodlust.

Its not like he goes out looking for people to butcher- Techno will almost never leave his area unless he thinks he absolutely needs to.

And when the last group of foolish young party goers looking for an abandoned camping ground to booze around on gets slaughter quickly, he suddenly has a strong need to step outside of his comfort zone.

One of his would be victims gets away because for some reason when he saw them, Techno fucking hesitated. He's never hesitated. He tracks them down out of his woods tockill them but.

He ends up dragging them back to his home and imprisons them. He's never done this before. Its not even from the voices goading him on.

He's going to keep them for a long time before he figures it out. And when he figures it out? He'll never want to let them go.

Wilbur Soot

A very urban serial killer- probably haunts the local university?

I think its obvious what type of killer he is- hidden in plain sight, charismatic and a specific agenda.

Wilbur's darling was supposed to be just another victim. Another notch on his belt.

He has no idea when he started having seconds thoughts. Maybe it was the strange domesticity- normalcy he felt when he was with them. It almost made him feel sick.

He decides to distract himself with a few other victims until the inevitable day comes when Wilbur takes a half conscious darling to the room where he ended so many other lives.

He's on top of them, gloved hands around their neck and he goes to squeeze. He can't fucking do it.

Now Wilbur is panicking- he has a still very alive person in his hideout that he can't kill. He's not supposed to let them live. He can't kill them.

It comes to him hard as an eliphany while he's having an anxiety attack: he's attached. Infatuated. In love.

Wilbur imprisons them. He has no choice too becuase he's in too deep. They likes him- maybe he can convince them to forgive the blood on his hands?

Fundy

I don't know how to classify him properly off of the top of my head. What makes him different is that what drives him to kill is love to begin with.

Fundy was just some normal shy computer nerd until he bumps into the person that he's convinced is his soulmate the brief second he made eye contact with them.

Fundy was obsessed. He starts stalking them immediately. He learns everything about them, from their date of birth, to their allergies. He also unfortunately learns about all the people that are close to his darling that like them more than in a friendly way.

He's convinced himself if he gets them out of the way, he'll have a better chance to be with them. And simply ruining their reputations by performing a few hacks wouldn't be enough.

The first time he kills one of his darlings supposed suitors he's.... brutal. He has no idea what happens to him. Maybe its becuase he lets it spill that he's doing this for his darling and his first victim mocks him.

It becomes a big habit to practically maul them and when the bodies are found, the authorities think its a freak animal attack.

Fundy is actually surprised that he manages ro cover his tracks so well. When the number to potential obstacles to get to his darlings diminishes, he finally makes his move.

Finally, bashful nerdy little Fundy has found a place in his darling's life. But as a friend. He quickly tries to push his luck with his darling. And he thinks he really has a chance until his darling introduces him to their new partner.

He doesn't even think when he follows the couple home, sneaks in and attacks them both. He's so enraged he just draws a mental blank as he violently tortures and carves apart the last person to get in his way.

When he's done he turns to his darling and switches back over to that shy boy they met before, covered in blood and pleading with them to forgive him. He did this all for them after all. And if he can't have them, then he'll make sure no one will.

[worstloki]

Okay, this is gettin’ real screwed up here.

I watch a lot of TV. Probably too much. And I’ve seen characters beaten to their knees before, sometimes even with collars. And yeah, there’s usually someone standing over them, and it’s been a woman sometimes. The kind of scene we got in episode 5 of Loki is not new ground.

But here’s the thing. In EVERY OTHER SCENE I can remember like this, the person kneeling is the hero. They’ve been brought down, fully humbled before the sneering villain, and in a few minutes something will happen to get them back on their feet again. It’s usually a tense moment, a “what if they break?” that makes you want the hero to win. You aren’t rooting for, or even liking in some cases, the person standing. You’re cheering for the person on their knees.

This doesn’t seem to be the case with the Loki show. Yes, the viewers may be rooting for Loki, but there’s no hatred for Sif there. She’s not proved herself to be a cold, heartless villain, ruthlessly pounding the hero until all he can do is kneel at her feet.

Except…she did kind of do that. But it isn’t treated as something bad. It’s treated more as something Loki deserved, in my opinion. The show wants us to feel like he deserved to get repeatedly beaten up and told horrible things, just for cutting off a lock of Sif’s hair. I’ll grant, it’s peanuts compared to what happened to him in the mythology. But it’s still bad. Especially since they had him acknowledge it, repeat her cruel words back. They’re playing it off as if Loki is still the villain by himself, and is only good because of other people- Mobius, mostly, but Sif is part of that.

That’s not the way Loki’s character is. In the comics particularly, his biggest arcs are always about reinventing the labels given to him, changing “villain” into something good, something he can use, and doing it by himself. Yes, there’s outside influence, but ultimately Loki is the one who decided to change.

The show is not letting him do that. The show is portraying him as a stubborn jackass who refuses to change until other people show him the light- either with psychological torture presented as therapy, or with beating him up a bunch of times until he gives in. The show and its characters are forcing Loki to become good- they aren’t showing him doing it by himself. He is not becoming one of the good guys, he’s being essentially enslaved by them, and the show is passing it off as somehow all that good influence finally rubbed off on Loki’s cold, villainous heart. That’s why him betraying Mobius was shown as so bad even though Loki barely knew him and had been psychologically tortured by him- Mobius is written as a character who can choose to be good, and Loki is written as a character who must be forced to be good.

And something about an entire show revolving around an independent character being treated as a villain, literally enslaved by the “good guys” (back when the show still wanted us to think the TVA weren’t shady as all hell), beaten to his knees with a collar around his neck until he accepts that he deserves to be alone because he isn’t “good” like everybody else…that doesn’t go down right for me.

The TVA being presented in not just a neutral but often reliable light is something I thought would change once Loki literally called out their propaganda and Sylvie called them fascists, but, for some reason the authoritarian genocidalists are not being presented as a bad thing and it irks me too.

It's especially weird because of the way what Loki claims to have wanted by making choices for people and what Mobius claims the TVA do ARE THE EXACT SAME THINGS, except Loki, until the show, hadn't done that of his own volition and was being tortured during the invasion and is treated terribly for something he didn't even succeed in doing, while the TVA successfully erase events on a mass scale but are presented as having a higher (or at best, - equal) moral ground.

The exact same thing was done in Ragnarok where Loki's "turning point" from a tricksy villainous scoundrel happened because Thor left him frying on the ground and gave him a pep talk filled with lies and general slander about how he could be better - and people see that as good because Thor is framed as a hero, and it's because instead of accepting Loki is a complex character they take what the narrative tells at face value and that is that Loki fights the protagonist(s) so he's bad.

I personally don't like the narrative pushing a character that is canonically an abuse victim and attempted suicide and was tortured right after as someone who needs fixing because he's lusting for power and needs it to gain a sense of control during a retcon which is occurring for the sake of calling him a complete bad guy who needs to change (probably because no actual original character development could be thought of?) after he was just confirmed as queer and colloquially (i assume) called a narcissist because of twisted love.

That he deserves to be alone was presented neutrally as a joke even as he was repeatedly getting beaten to the ground, and then both people he could call friends were removed from his immediate vicinity right after.

Loki isn't being presented as a character that has done a huge mix of good and bad in the movies, he's being presented as an oft incompetent idiot that deserves what he gets because he shouldn't have run away from captors, or he cut Sif's hair, or he killed his mother, or he dared to think he had any importance or could do something good, because the truth is he's an evil lying scourge.

"But maybe," Mobius says, "Maybe he wants to mix it up. Sometimes you get tired of playing the same part. Is that possible? He can change?" And everyone's already forgotten that moments before the mission Mobius said to Loki's face that the TVA has pruned a lot of Loki variants because he's so nice! look! he has hope in him when no one else does! It's also easy to forget the "and hey, if it doesn't work, I'll delete him myself," right after because the guy was smiling through it and the scene is followed by Loki really badly trying to explain the logic of being a trickster who everyone knows is a trickster.

A lot of people payed more attention in Ragnarok than to the other Thor movies so it's not a new retcon and people seem fine with the extremely strange take that 'loki is bad but he can do good sometimes,' because the character is more animated and acts foolish and that's generally more fun for comedy, which is fair for people to prefer imo, people find different things entertaining.

But I do solidly hope the show doesn't go that way though and takes a side with Loki on the narrative stance eventually because I've seen a lot of people who just. miss that the TVA's concept is bad. And those who think they're "reforming" Loki. As if the guy needs anything but a break at this point lmao he only got away from Thanos like 2 days ago please just let him rest for a bit he's a fail villain and it's cringe to have your supposed 1st open queer character get beaten to a pulp by Sif and then put wack sexualizing shots for it too :/

it's like the show itself is trying to sell the angle of "Loki is a villain" and I'm a clown who is still wanting that to be intentional because if it is? It could be amazing and playing with how different parties are framed would be s p e c t a cu l ar and could encourage people to reassess the hero coding in other movies including ones Loki was previously in - but we're reaching the last two episodes and I don't feel like that'll happen.

I feel like even if Loki does reach the end of the show as a transformed person it'll be done leaving the audience with "perhaps you're not so bad after all, Loki," and then also give credit to Mobius or Sylvie or whoever else was involved, simply because as even of yet Loki hasn't taken on a lead role in the show. I'd argue he hasn't really contributed anything worthwhile to plot either. As you've said, he's being shown as someone who needs to change but isn't really motivated to. Aw man they better not make romantic love the reason he wants to change.

[cherryjuicegf]

death of a poet

for @whataboutthebard september 16 whump prompt: major character death || geraskier, T, 1.8k, angst, implied/referenced suicide (kind of)

ao3

The greatest act of love, they say, is to die for it.

Jaskier laughed, always laughed at this concept. There’s no doubt, of course, one’s whole life lost as a declaration of love, the highest sacrifice. But not the only one. And it amazed him, how people never seemed to acknowledge anything else, how fairytales of noble knights ended with them throwing their lives away, and for what? For love. Always for love. There was no doubt, and if there was, who was he to utter it?

Still. He wondered, the roots of the poet he was meant to be growing inside him, blooming since childhood. And he wondered, why, why die for love, why not live for it? Why waste this blooming of hearts in the eternal darkness, in grief and the wailing complaint of what could have been? Why, when there is so much beauty in the love of living things? He wondered, always wondered. And his mother smiled, with this faint bitterness of unexpected knowledge, and whispered, you can live for love if you want, sweet child, but one day you’ll understand.

Yet he didn’t understand. And he hated it, hated that he didn’t. Hated that he couldn’t find anything to try and understand in the first place. One day he would understand, yet people smiled at him, flowers bloomed in spring, birds sang on the branches, the wine tasted so sweet and the strings of the lute sounded so magical in the evening hush. And he wondered, always wondered, when would the day come, and what greater love there is, that you’re willing to die for it, even if you don’t lay eyes upon it ever again?

The fire in the hearth suddenly goes out.

A tragic fate, the mage had laughed. True love’s kiss. No one could ever love a monster.

I love him. He’s not a monster.

He’s not?

Geralt’s eyes are glowing in a light Jaskier hasn’t seen before, in a light he never wishes to see again. They’re glowing, and something unworldly glows with them, laughs with the evil memory of fairy tales, and evil sorceresses and true love’s kisses. As the blade glistens dangerously close to his eyes, as he walks backward in trembling steps, he thinks they’re so far away from what would make a beautiful fairytale to tell children before sleep. There will be no happy ending here. Somehow he knows.

There’s a tickle on his fingertips, burning.

The sword whips beside his ear and he stumbles back once more, panting, breath coming out strained. He raises his head, looks at Geralt. Or what he remembers was Geralt. Because now what he sees seems foreign, cold, and the amber in his eyes doesn’t warm him like the sun anymore, instead burns, like a fire which he willingly, inevitably steps into. There’s a lump caught in his throat, a sob screaming to get out. And, as though on instinct, with the strongest pang of guilt numbing his bones, he has to remind himself. He’s not a monster, he’s not a monster. He’s not Geralt. Geralt is not a monster.

For a moment, for the barest of seconds, he meets Geralt’s, no, the man’s eyes and, like the fool, like the poet he is, he hopes. “Geralt,” he says and his voice shakes weakly with the terrifying hint of denial, “Geralt, it’s me, please.” The air is ripped by the blade once again, he steps back, eyes still locked with amber. A whimper. “Come back to me, love, please. I love you, come back.”

For a moment, for the barest of seconds, the sun entering from the narrow, stained window reflects on Geralt’s eyes and something familiar glints behind them, a distant scream of a heart wailing to get out. But it’s only for a moment. Because Geralt growls and lowers his sword again with maniacal force and Jaskier screams, ducks and falls on his knees in an ironic parody of a plea for mercy. There’s a feeling of wetness on his bicep and he hisses as crimson blood stains the white sleeve. Not his fault, Jaskier reminds himself, not his fault.

It’s not his fault, yet he wants to cry as he stares into his eyes, cold like the blade that threatens to tear him to pieces, cold like the countless winter nights he’s spent without him, cold like his hand as he grasps it desperately, pushes him back in a failed attempt to trap him, in a foolish, hopeless hope of making him throw the sword away.

A true love’s kiss, he thinks, and almost laughs, because it sounds more like a death wish. And he’s starting to think it will be.

And then he sees Geralt raising his hand and before he has time to think about it, he’s being swept back with the most violent wind, and falls head first on the wall behind him. And slumps to fall on his knees. But there’s a sudden sting on his abdomen and he opens his eyes just in time to see the silver blade pointed on tender skin and jolts back with a gasp, stuck on the wall. “Fuck, Geralt,” he pants and looks at him and, for some reason, he expects his stare to be requited. It is. But it’s empty. It’s empty, and the sword on his stomach tickles painfully and the room is whirling. He blinks hard, gasps again. He can’t hold on, he knows.

And as he gazes at Geralt, he remembers. Warmth. Faint smiles, fingers down his back. Lips tasting of sweet wine, and flowers on his hair, and sleepy eyes staring at him before dropping, and love, and safety, and home . And finally, finally he understands.

He hates that he understands. But then again, the blade is cold like a hug full of regrets and Geralt’s eyes are empty and, oh, what he wouldn’t give to see those eyes, familiar and warm and looking at him again, even if it’s for the last time. He hasn’t much left to give, truth be told. Only his hope, and his life, and he feels them both competing for which is going to reach the end of the line.

“Geralt,” he whispers, again, and that spare root of hope he had starts to rot. “Geralt, please, don’t...” Are those tears? His eyes are burning. “Wake up, love, it’s me.”

What hope? He knows there is not. He knows, because it’s empty, forever empty, and the blade stings deeper and he pleads, Geralt, Geralt, Geralt, as if it means anything anymore, as if it’s Geralt.

He understands. And knows, if he’s to die, he has to die the way he lived, by love, as a poet. For love, then. As a poet, and for love.

So he straightens himself, eyes steady on Geralt. And takes a step forward against the blade.

It’s numbing, the pain. Another step. He gasps, chokes on his own blood. Another step, and Geralt stares, empty, blade steady in place as though on purpose, but there’s a familiar glint somewhere in there now, a familiar fear. Jaskier is close. His feet are giving in, his breath is shortening, and it’s a pity really, such a torturous death.. He’s close. So close that he can rest on Geralt’s shoulder, and he feels the blade ripping his flesh, his insides, his everything. He coughs up blood, chokes, eyes rolling to the back of his head. And he feels the blade dripping behind him. And he feels Geralt’s breath on his skin. So he cups his face in a shaking hand, and leans in.

It’s nothing. A brush of lips, tender in all its agony. It’s nothing. The world is blurring. It’s love.

It’s nothing.

The sword slips away as he falls, leaving behind nothing but a puddle of unending blood and slowly consuming darkness and he thinks, it’s supposed to be bright, it’s supposed to hurt less now.

He thinks, he’s supposed to spare himself from Geralt’s anguished look when he comes to, and realizes.

Instead.

“Jaskier!”

He doesn’t feel the pain. Only his body, lifted from the floor, and the scorching blood and the arms, those arms that hold him so tight he wants to scream all the apologies, all the regrets of the world. He doesn’t need to. They all echo in Geralt’s eyes.

It’s sweet, the pain. It’s melodic, the plea. Jaskier, please, stay with me, you fool, you’re alright, stay with me.

He wants to laugh. He’s long gone.

The greatest act, to die for love. A fitting ending, for a poet. He wishes someone will write it, this story, their story, and maybe give it a happier ending. Maybe they will go to the coast. Maybe they’ll end up closing their eyes together, holding each other tight, and maybe there’s no blood, only bitter tears of happiness.

It’s a fairytale. It can’t be tragic.

I love you, you’ll be alright, please, please don’t leave me alone.

A forehead pressed against his and he stares at Geralt and, oh, how he misses him already, and how bright he looks in his sorrow, how beautiful behind the veil that slowly falls between them. Jaskier parts his lips, chokes. “Geralt,” he croaks and it sounds like a sob uttered by every single wilting flower in the world. “Geralt, look at me.” He raises a trembling hand on his face, his fingertips leaving smudges of blood over the falling tears.

Geralt doesn’t look. Only stares at the wound, and back at Jaskier, unfocused, horrified, numb, as though it won’t happen if he doesn’t acknowledge.

It’s darker now, and there’s a last grip holding him back, and Jaskier knows it’s the warmth of Geralt’s hug, always is. “If I die for you, will you live for me, love?” he whispers and finally, finally Geralt turns at him, eyes wide, and Jaskier smiles, something close to a wince, as though it’ll hurt less like that, letting go.

Geralt shakes his head. “If I refuse will you stay alive?”

A huff. Painful. “No. No, I don’t think so.” It’s silent like the breeze now, his voice. Jaskier wipes the rivers of tears on Geralt’s cheek and smiles again, and this time it’s genuine, probably because it’s the last one. “It’s alright, hush. You’re not alone.” Shaking, he removes silver strands away from Geralt’s eyes, and slumps, leans on his shoulder as though finally resting. “Hush now, my love. Let me look into your eyes one last time.”

He does. He looks. It’s the same eyes, same as always, warm and loving, like a tender caress.

To die for love. How tragic. But what is a poet’s love, if not the most heart-wrenching tragedy?

The bloodied hand gently falls on the floor.

There’s a streak of red light coming through the stained window, and rests on blue eyes, mistaking them for the peaceful sea after a storm in their stillness.

They stare, forever open, and somehow forever warm.

They stare, and Geralt finally stares back. And slowly, agonizingly, like a sob echoing in eternity between the pages of every promised fairytale, he screams.