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yoondles · 3 years

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Unholy - P.JM

Devil! P.JM x Reader

Summary: The Devil doesn’t ask for repentance, he punishes those who fail to repent.

Themes: A few religious hints here and there but it’s just porn without plot

Word Count: 5k, edited if you close your eyes

Inspo: nothing but ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵒˡʸ ᵇᶦᵇˡᵉ jk

Warnings: Degradation (he calls you a whore), huge dick like hUge, fingering, oral (m receiving), bondage, unprotected seggs, rough seggs?, teasing/edging, creampie, mature language, mentions of murder, drug dealing, and Jimin is a 🤏 cunty.

A yawn. It was what had woken you up, it was ironic however, the person who yawned must’ve pulled something from his muscles that he had to yell loudly. His bones cracked as your eyes opened, lashes fluttering as you sneaked a glance towards his direction. He cocked one of his eyebrows up, giving you a look that he was indeed better than you. You tried your best to move around, only to find out that you were held locked against the mattress.

The chains repeatedly moved against the wooden frame of the large bed. Your legs were locked up, but most importantly, you were naked. Cheeks tinted a pink hue as your observed the entirety of the room, your heart was pounding against your chest as you tried to cover yourself. Your eyes avoided his, gazing at the dark hues of red that scattered around the room.

The cold air did nothing but remind you of your current form, knees quivering as your nipples went hard from the cool breeze. Breath halting as you felt the man beside you breath against your neck. “Where am I?” You dared to ask, after all, your mouth had not been forced shut, might as well put it to use.

“Ah, the pure innocence humans have when they’ve finally reached my domain.” He muttered, his shoes clacking against the tile of the room. Pushing his tongue in his cheek as he fixed his coat, gently placing it behind the chair as he dragged it lazily in front of you. “You’re in hell, darling!” He exclaimed, eyes turning bright as he met your terrified eyes, pearly white teeth glowing brightly in enthusiasm. “No, seriously, where the fuck am I?”

“Well, aren’t you a crude little brat?”

“This is fantastic, you little grievances just keep on getting cocky,” He was annoyed, licking his lips as he gazed at the corner of the room, as if he were trying to calm himself down. He pushed his hair back, cracking his neck before gently placing both of his hands in his hips. A derisive gaze lingered on your body as he eyed your entirety.

The silver from his ears glowed brightly under the light that illuminated the room, his prominent cheek bones were highlighted, his plump lips were slightly open as he finally moved to meet your eyes. “Having the time of your life, aren’t you?” You wondered how long you’ve been staring at him, nitpicking, trying hard to find a flaw in his image. His mood was quick to change as he leaned forward, hands reaching your neck before enclosing it in a inhumane grasp, limiting the oxygen that flowed within you. “Always so fragile.” He muttered under his breath, watching the way your veins would appear.

You choked out a breath. You coughed out as his hands began travelling south, touching the area around your hard nipples but being careful to the point that he doesn’t allow himself to touch them. “Get your hands off of me, freak!” You yelled, the sound of metal rattling blasting the entire room.

He seemed unfazed. “You’re a feisty little bitch for someone who’s supposed to be punished, very ill-mannered if I may add. I’ll talk to God about this design flaw,” he was shaking his head as he grabbed a small notebook from his coat pocket, alongside a pen, writing down his observations as he muttered against his lips. “What?” You yelled once again, chains rattling loudly as you did your best to run away from this lunatic. “God, as in G, O, D. Father of almighty, creator of heaven and earth, do you want me to continue reciting the Apostles’ Creed?”

“Stop playing around, just — let’s get this over with, I want to go home.” He was confused, completely taken aback by your sudden submission, closing your eyes as if you were waiting for something to happen. Thunder rumbled from the outside, as the ground slightly shook. “Completely lost will to live, shows lack of loyalty...” the sound his pen made against the grain of the paper brought you back to reality, you couldn’t help but laugh at how much he took this seriously. Sure, it was one thing to live in your fantasy, but to write things as if this were reality? What type of weed did he smoke to get this high?

You let out a yelp as his fingers hit your exposed cunt, wincing as he shifted the pen back to its’ original position, closing the notebook with his pen inside. “May I remind you, you’re in hell, darling. You don’t get to boss me around, most importantly, you don’t get to push me into listening to your orders.”

The tone of his voice never faltered, “you’ve been quite a naughty little bitch out there, criminal records going quite far. You’re going to love it here, maybe you’d roam around as a middle class woman, especially with that reputation.” You shut your mouth, pulling once more as you tried your best to break free. No one knew about your criminal records, no one knew that you did illegal work. So who the hell was he, coming out here and telling you about this? You suppose he was a man of power, or maybe the police had finally caught you, you had no idea. “Normally I’d approve of it, you know, living your own life. However, you brought this hellhole, quite literally, so many souls. Imagine having to get in a queue to enter hell. All the drug dealing, corruption of innocent souls, let’s not forget about the old woman you forced your subordinates to run over.”

“H-how?”

“I rule hell! For someone who’s been living a life as lavish as yours, you’re quite dumb.”

His fingers were tracing small circles in your stomach, pinching it every once in a while as you moved your hips trying to avoid his warm hands. “So, you’re Satan?” He pulled his hand away, rolling his eyes. “Of course, that’s what you would say...” he pushed his slick hair back situating himself in the chair near your bed. “Whichever you prefer, however, the lilt the name Jimin has is something I’m quite fond of.”

It was distracting trying to listen to him as his fingers slapped your cunt once more, forcing you to hold your breath. You tried your best to limit your reactions, trying to not feed into his ego as you were already held captive and bound. Whether he was lying or not, you had to at least play safely around him. His hands travelled towards your thighs, quietly observing the way you would react. The way you would shiver every moment he inched up closer to your weeping vulva. “You’re such fragile creatures, y/n.” Closing your eyes as you felt him inch closer, his breath fanned over your clavicle. “Fragile enough to be tempted by the devil himself, aren’t we?” You whispered in his ear, breath shaking as his skin came in contact with yours. He let out a laugh, hands flying towards your needy breasts as he drew lines with his finger. “That’s a common misconception, darling.”

His eyes failed to meet yours as he continued to harvest reactions and small almost undetectable movements from your body. He was left in awe with the way you responded, shivers ran up and down your spine, breath hitching, the small goosebumps that formed, you were intriguing. “The devil doesn’t tempt you. You imbeciles try so hard to find someone to accuse of your haughty little actions. May I remind you, you’re in control.”

“Well, not right now.” His dark eyes held fire within them as he found yours, gaze burning holes in your body as you finally stopped resisting. There was something about the way he talked, the way he felt so close to you, the way he focused on you and you alone. You felt something from deep within you combust.

“You do everything just to avoid responsibility for your own actions, tell me, y/n. How does it feel to become powerless now that you’re here?” You closed your eyes tight, toes curling as one of his fingers found your clit. His voice dropping octaves as he rolled the pads of his fingers against the wet bundle of nerves. Your eyes rolled back as your limbs rattled the chains in protest.

“Is there a flush of regret? Maybe a hint of happiness because you’re a masochist? Tell me,” you shook your head, still refusing to fall into his hands as he moved faster. Failure to elicit sound lead to a sudden halt in his movements, a whine would emanate from your lips, before he started to move his fingers once more. A sexual punishment where you never reach the peak, a mixture of annoyance, pleasure and humiliation bubbled inside you.

“Your mouth shuts itself off, doesn’t it?” Fingers moving lower, and lower, and lower, finally penetrating your hole as your lips parted. Slick coating it before accepting it with the warmth of your unexplored cavern, he let out a sigh out of satisfaction. You were clueless, you had no idea when you had become this wet, but you were thankful for the penetration. Sighing, you pushed yourself towards his finger as you tried to reach for more, to push him even further inside you. “Oh my,” he was amused, laughing at the humiliating actions you made just to feel more of him.

“Humans tend to break so easily. This time around, I’d be honoured to tell you that maybe I did tempt you. But all I did was fuel the sexual drive you had, nothing more.” You tried to shut him off, your hips grinding harder against the single finger deep within you. Moaning ever so silently, desperate to climax on your own. He remained motionless, doing nothing to help you. You were eager to feel the knot inside your stomach unravel before him. “I wish you’d see how pathetic you look, y/n.” Still you didn’t stop, tears rimmed your eyes as you tried to chase something far away from you. You felt yourself moving closer to the edge, the lack of stimulation from both your clit and your insides had been nothing but excruciating.

Despite the many whines you let loose, he still wouldn’t budge. He left you fending for yourself as the rough spot from within you begged for any form of contact. His fingers were deep enough, but due to the restraints you weren’t able to angle yourself to the perfect position. Hence, his fingers danced around the spot, never touching it. Absentmindedly pushed yourself, you never reached what you had been searching for. The corners of your eyes were starting to fill up with tears due to the pent up frustration that’s been keeping you grounded. Jimin watched in amusement, one of his eyebrows perked upwards as he let his smile loose.

“I c-can’t.” Your elbows were shaking, using them as leverage in order to get into the angle you needed in order to push yourself. In the end, you were nothing but a puddle of your own arousal and sweat. “Please, just— move,” your words were nothing but a whisper, but he heard your pleas. After all, the Devil was always listening.

“Let’s get things straight, y/n. I’m not here to ask you for repentance, you’re beyond that point. You’re here for punishment, not for pleasure.” The tears finally managed to escape your eyes, crying as you did your best to get off. However, with your lack of mobility plus his unforgiving form of punishment, you grew more impatient and far more frustrated. “Please, please, please...” you begged, pleas growing far more silent as seconds passed by. He huffed, pulling has hand away as you uncontrollably shook your head in protest. He grabbed a handkerchief, wiping his finger diligently. “Begging won’t do anything, darling. The devil never settles for bare minimum.”

Maybe it was the touch he cared to give you earlier, maybe it was how the wind carressed your bare figure, you didn’t know which one it was that put you in this situation. You normally had a lot of self control, why were you fallinng apart? The warmth from within you slowly crawling out of your skin in forms of tiny little droplets of precipitation, your breathing came in small gasps, neck craning as you followed the man claiming to be the devil himself. “You want this to be over, just so you could go home... Normally, that would mean I’d finish my business with you, blah, blah, blah... But I’ll need something a little more straightforward. Something I could take as a green flag.” his pearly white teeth appeared right in front of you, smiling in a mocking way. “I’ve got all eternity y/n.” he crossed his legs as he sat down the chair. Opening a bottle of wine, and pouring himself a generous glass.

Thunder rumbled from the outside, and once again the floor shook. Jimin was amused with the way you moved in the bed. Your eyes calculating possible escape routes, as they glossed over the entire room. The sound of the chains echoed in the empty room, repeatedly yanking on them in a small attempt to at least get them off of you. Letting out a huff the moment you realised that this was getting you nowhere. Your little hole was twitching from the cold air that surrounded the entire area, reaching your nipples making them hard once again. Hearing him drink the glass of wine he poured himself had driven you over the edge, somehow, it managed to reflect something so carnal.

You whined in frustration, it was obvious enough that at least one of your worries needed to be eased. “I’ll need words, I’d never hear the end of it if you don’t consent.” Raising your brows up in curiosity, the devil took a step, rising above you with the wine glass directly on top of you. “God might get pissed at me, circumstances like that... Honestly, if his disciples made me look so bad in their little book, I might as well play the part.” He shrugged, talking to himself as he inhaled the scent of the alcoholic beverage. His mere presence tempting you as your vulva weeped for more, shivering against the cold gust of air, in the midst of talking to you, he accidentally tipped over the glass, spilling a little bit on your stomach.

The liquid was enough to send a jolt running through your body. “Goodness me,” he muttered as he grabbed a piece of cloth from his coat pocket. Wiping it down, moving towards the direction of your cunt, wiping a little bit of the wetness off. You whimpered unintentionally, “you were messing the sheets.” he scrunched his nose towards your direction. You tried your best to close your legs, chains producing more noise, before you finally gave in. “Please, use me. I need you.” It happened quickly, Jimin’s ears were trained and hadn’t missed a best. He raised his brows, glass long forgotten, setting it aside. “A little louder please,” a tone danced with his voice, as if the excitement finally had erupted from within him. “Use me as you will, please.” It wasdegrading, but it was worth it when you felt him squeezing in two of his delicate fingers. Pushing past your walls, finally gaining the courage to breach further and dwell deeper inside of you.

You arched your back, the desperation had finally reached you. “Fuck me,” you silently whispered, his palm hitting your tiny bundle of nerves, as he continued to pound his fingers against you. “Look at your little cunt,” he was astonished, the way your tight walls enveloped his fingers, it would restrict him from spreading his fingers apart. “You must have a sinful mind, I’ve barely done anything to you, and yet, here you are.” His eyes widened as he smiled, a small ember flame growing larger, reflecting his heightened need for sexual attention. He was getting far more excited as he felt your walls grow wetter, and even tighter. He could feel your orgasm coming, the way your short gasps would erupt from your mouth, how your stomach moved in an attempt to ease the knot you feel inside of you, the way your legs shaked, with the noise of your restraints moving against the bed posts. “Faster,” and yet, you howled for more. He tore his gaze away from your dripping vulva, observing the way your face would contort.

The way your mouth was left agape, how small lines appeared from beside your eyes as you shut them tightly, how your neck tilted, exposing flesh he’s desperate to mark. And so, you came undone. The pleasure rippled from your core, reverberating throughout the expanse of your body. Your legs quivered in a desperate attempt to close your legs.

He let you ride your high, finally, pulling his fingers away. “Open wide, y/n. I’m teaching you how you must clean up after yourself.” He laughed at his own comment, happily obliging you opened up for his fingers. Sucking off remnants of your arousal, not minding the salty taste of your release, indulging. “For a human in hell, you’re quite decent. You know how to follow orders,” he pulled his fingers away with a pop, being the diligent man he was, he cleaned his fingers with the same handkerchief he used earlier. Discarding the fabric, letting it flop in the table.

“Such a pretty little figure. A shame humans had gotten their hands on you,” he bit his plump lips, walking slowly from one side to another as he watched your naked figure. Presented in a way so delicately, so small, and yet your eyes burned with a far cry from innocence. He could break you, have you begging for his dick all night long, but he too had limits. Just with how tight his pants felt, he knew at least by the next few hours he needed to be inside of you. Your lustful gaze never left his figure, the scent that erupted from your sex had been too intoxicating that even the finest wine couldn’t compete. You were far too precious to be laying down here, all prepped up just for him and no one else.

The area below you slowly sunk down, informing you that someone had occupied the empty space. The heat that emanated from his body was noticeable, but it was nothing unusual. The pads of his fingers danced around your face, holding your jaw tightly as he forced you to look up to him. You held your breath as you waited for his next move. His hand trailed downwards, finally giving your soft mounds the attention that they deserved. Perky nipples greeting him once more, flicking his finger against one of them just so he could hear your moans once again. Giving the other a harsh slap, quickly turning in a shade of red due to the sensitivity of your skin. “How should I have my way with you, y/n?” Although he addressed you, you were certain he’d been talking to himself as he experimented with your body.

Hands moving south as he drew circles on your stomach, your cunt managed to produce more wetness, making it look like an appetite underneath the single lightbulb from the room. Leaning down as he gave the area just above your pussy a small quick peck, before inhaling your scent. Closing his eyes as he tried his best to imprint the unique smell only you could make. “You’re a fucking sin, y/n. You’re the embodiment of everything unholy,” he found the area between your legs the most enticing to him. For the first time tonight, he let himself have you. He let himself fall under your temptations.

You felt butterflies, the juices you released finally had purpose. No longer discarding the liquid you brewed for him. Maybe it was the validation that he, too, wanted you, the humiliation that even the devil didn’t want to have a piece of you was beginning to eat you away. One quick flick of his tongue was enough to erase any harsh feelings. His lips wrapped around your clit as your mouth did their best to put emphasis on the two syllables that represented his name.

Just as quick as it had happened, he was pulling away. Slowly prying the buttons open to his shirt, coat long discarded in the ground as he gave you an exclusive show. The way his biceps would flex in front of you. His chest moving along with his harsh breathing. Never missing the way his shoulders would move, and how the veins would protrude as he discarded his clothing. Soon followed his belt, the latch hooking against the chain, making it pull on your leg slightly, reminding you how bare you were in front of him. Gently pulling the zipper down as his huge dick finally showed itself. Sporting a few tattoos here and there, as he threw the last of his garments somewhere across the room. You bit your lips, as you unconsciously moaned just when you take in everything presented to you. Your breathing grew far more harsh.

You took in his entire figure. His dick long enough to go past his belly button, thick enough to make his hands look very small. His tip was glistening with precum, tiny droplets that glowed, licking your lips as all you could do was fantasise about drinking him all up. You didn’t really expect that he’d be merciless with you, but when you felt his presence right above you, and his tip just below your lips. You opened your mouth greedily, moving your head forward, eager to finally have him down your throat. “Well aren’t you a good little bitch,” he muttered under his breath as he held your hair with a makeshift ponytail. Pulling onto it as he moved forward. “Open wider, darling. You and I both know I’m not gonna fit,” chuckling as he continued to instruct you.

He held your head in place as you opened your mouth as wide as you can, slowly he entered you. Your teeth barely missed his length, experimenting as you moved your tongue below his shaft, loving the way you could easily make him moan. He was sensitive. “Good grief,”

He pulled back out, your greedy lips encasing him in, just as his tip was about to leave your mouth. Your mouth was left agape as your eyes followed the direction of his tip, finally close enough just so you could kiss it, licking a stripe as you tasted his precum. Sighing out of satisfaction as you bobbed your head even further down. He was barely halfway in when you felt him hit the back of your throat. “You’re greedy aren’t you?” He pushed himself even further down, making your body jolt due to the sudden movement. “Avid little mouth sucking me just back in, you’ve barely prepared yourself and yet here you are, sucking my cock like a fucking whore, letting me hit your throat.” You tried to nod, however the obvious intrusion didn’t allow you.

Your tears welled up, as you tried your best to make him proud of you. “Shit,” he cursed under his breath as he felt your tight throat constricting around him. Quickly he was pulling away, your lips had remnants of his precum, mixed with your own saliva as you held your mouth open for him to inspect. Your eyes shed tears due to how deep he went inside of you. Lashes turning heavy as droplets of tears continued to house themselves there. You were breathing heavily. “The devil isn’t usually rewarding, but I’ll make an exception for you.” Another shift in your positions as he stood up. Proudly walking around with a body sculpted by the greatest sculptors, his back muscles to tight, his sweat doing him justice making every single part of him far more contoured, emphasising every movement he made as he was finally setting himself in between your legs.

You pulled onto your chains, as you desperately wanted to hold onto him. His hair was barely covering his eyes as he watched you in amusement, his dick in hand as he positioned it against your cunt. “Let me touch you please, Jimin.” You winced at your own voice, rough and coarse as it reminded you of the previous events. You rattled the chains even louder this time, you could feel the underside of his dick grazing your cunt, making you moan as he reached forward freeing both of your hands. You were quick enough to hold onto his neck, “this doesn’t seem like I’m punishing you, I’m just drinking you in at this point, y/n.” You shut him up with a kiss, letting him taste himself. You were too distracted to even notice him positioning himself, and with one quick piston of his hips, he went balls deep inside you.

You broke the kiss apart, the devil looking at you with a smirk in his lips as he gave you no choice but to willingly accept all of his harsh thrusts. You were desperately searching your head for anything coherent to say, but you were knocked out of words. Thrusting harshly as all you could do was moan just below him, yelling his name every once in a while as you felt him hit a familiar spot deep within you, legs shaking as you did your best to keep up with his pace. He held your hips in place, as he continued to pound inside you like a savage. The occasional grunts that left his mouth would continue to echo in your head, giving you fuel to push yourself harder.

“A cunt like yours deserves to be in hell. You’re a freak, y/n.” His deep voice growled against your ear, his gruff voice bringing you back to earth. You felt your sanity drift away from you due to the deep and harsh stroked. Dick carving its’ way through far deeper, able to hit the entrance of your cervix, you were almost certain he’d be marking it as his territory too due to the repeated blows his dick gave.

“God, Jimin,” you muttered upon reaching your second orgasm for tonight. Your breath hitched, toes curling alongside the rise of your body against the soft sheets. He only pushed in deeper and harder, emphasising his presence. “We’re still calling onto him aren’t we?” He moved his hips far harsher this time, hitting your spot. Your vision turned white from the feeling of overstimulation, as if the first orgasm never really stopped, you felt yourself forming another knot from within your stomach. “You pathetic little brat, you should be calling onto me, not him. Tell me, is he the one making you feel this way?” His words were hard to understand as each one of them were emphasised by a harsh roll of his hips, balls smacking, managing to graze your clit with his own skin, as his dick carved itself inside of you. “N-no,” you tried to be obedient, but it was hard when all you felt was the way he was marking you as his territory. “Then who is, y/n? Tell me,” a dark chuckle escaped his plump lips as he bit himself, watching you from below him with hooded eyes.

“Fucking answer me!” He growled, choking you while he continuously pounded inside of you. “Y-you are, Jimin. Fuck!” Colours danced in your eyes, closing them shut due to too much pleasure. As if he wasn’t deep enough, he pushed even further. As if asking your cervix for entrance, acceptance, manhood pounding against it’s doors as you let out a pained moan. Not once did you ever expect you’d be having a dick this big. “That’s right, you’re all mine. Aren’t you?” His hands grew a little more tighter, yelling out your response with a hoarse voice. “I’ll make sure anyone who dares to fuck you next knows,”

“Carving the shape of my dick in your velvet walls,” he was inhuman, yes he was far from being a human. The way he still continued to pound you whilst speaking without a single stutter, how he’s held out his own release even after having his dick sucked. “You like that don’t you?” Encapsulated in your own little bubble as you desperately reached for more oxygen, all you could do was nod at him. “You’re my personal fucking slave, y/n.” With each words he pushed himself deeper, grinding on your g-spot repeatedly, the pleasure was unlike what you’ve felt before. It was pure, something that only the devil could make you feel.

“And I don’t like sharing.” A kiss in your forehead was all that you got before he finally came undone. Alongside the knot you’ve been holding onto for a while, your juices mixed. You felt him pull out, followed by a trail of your mixed essence. He tilted his head in amusement, using one of his fingers to feel the creamy substance that erupted from your vulva. “You did well. I’m quite surprised, you’re a special little bitch, y/n.” Too tired to even form a coherent response you closed your eyes and looked away from him. His words began to sound more fuzzy in your head, the sound of the shower filling in the silence.

A gentle touch on your forehead woke you up, it was his lips kissing you goodbye. “I’m afraid I’ll have to go,” he pulled his slacks back up, buttoning up his shirt, concealing the tattoos and hiding his heavenly body. “To where?” Your voice would almost sound pitiful, he carded his fingers through your hair before standing up and wearing his coat. “Doing God’s work, I suppose.” He grabbed the comforter before encasing you in, your sore legs finally able to close themselves as the sound of his leather shoes hitting the wooden floors slowly dissipated. “I’ll do my best to meet you soon. Please, do enjoy your stay in Hell.”

#Bts #bts smut #bts imagine #jimin smut #park jimin smut #bts x reader #jimin #park jimin #bts imagines #bts x you #jimin imagine

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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years

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like the atlantic

Sirius X Reader (marauder’s era)

Summary: You didn’t like Sirius Black. You couldn’t. He was rash and a flirt and nothing but trouble. And yet... there you were falling hard. It made you want to punch him it was so aggravating.

A/n: Hi, welcome to me falling more in love with Sirius Black than before. And now you all get to join me. I’m done with my school work for the semester and I get to spend the weekend at Disney so I’m contented. Look out for new writing from some new characters!! I need to heal a bit more from my breakup before I can face writing for Draco. Let me know what you guys think of Sirius though!!!

“No, you don’t understand! I can’t like Sirius Black! I just can’t!” Pacing the common room floor, Lily watched me clearly amused.

“And why not?” She countered.

“Because!” I exasperated. “Because he’s trouble! He’s nothing but trouble and has no regard for the rules and...” I groaned.

“And?” Lily pressed.

“And yet every time he tries to talk to me, I can’t get a word out,” I sighed in defeat, flopping onto the couch beside her. “What am I supposed to do?”

“You know it’s okay to like him, right?”

“How can I like him when all I want to do is punch him in the face?”

“Who are we punching?” His voice chimed in as the four marauders made their way into the common room.

“You don’t want to know,” I muttered.

“Oh, come on I could be down for punch someone in the face,” Sirius grinned. “Who upset you?”

“You really wanna know?” I stood, crossing my arms.

“I’d love to see your sweet little self throw a punch,” he smirked. “If you can,” It was the challenge that threw me over the edge.

So, I hit him square in the nose and as he was going to cradle his face I grabbed his tie and pressed my lips to his before storming out of the common room and into the halls of Hogwarts leaving the chaos behind me.

————————————

“What the hell was that about?” James demanded of Lily, checking on his friend.

“He did challenge her,” Lily pointed out.

“But why?” Sirius groaned, the healing spell that Remus had cast taking effect. “And why the bloody hell did she kiss me?”

“Give you a couple guesses,” Lily drawled.

“Wait—she... she... and...me?” Sirius sputtered. “Me!?”

Lily nodded once.

“But she can’t! She doesn’t like me! She hates me!” Sirius shouted.

“Yeah, she doesn’t get it either,” Lily muttered.

“Shit, I need to talk to her,” Sirius realized. “Do you know where she is?”

“I have a good idea of where she would have run off to, but she’d kill me if I gave that up,” Lily replied.

“Evans, please,” his voice was soft and begging. “I need to talk to her,”

Lily deliberated for a moment then sighed. “Astronomy Tower,”

————————————

“Hey,” his voice was soft as he came up behind me. I knew it couldn’t have been long before he found me, or Lily told him my hideout.

I didn’t respond.

“Lily told me you’d be here,” he tried again.

I still didn’t reply.

Sighing he sat next to me, looking up at the stars with me.

“You know you could at least apologize for punching me,” a smirk quirked on his lips.

I gave him a sad, hopeless look and his smile dropped.

“You can say something,” he began to fidget. “I have no idea what you’re thinking right now, and I’d really like to. You’re in your head a lot, ya know that?” He didn’t say it as if it were a bad thing, but rather that he noticed my behavior.

A hint of a smile played at my lips.

“Hey, there she is,” Sirius nudged my shoulder, and his blue eyes gripped my heart once again.

I stood and paced away from him trying to break the spell. It felt wrong, him comforting me like this, talking to me like this.

“Hey,” he called chasing after me. “Was it something I said? I’m sorry, I’m just trying to figure you out and I can’t. I thought all these years you couldn’t stand me and then you go and kiss me and leave a guy really confused,”

He grabbed my hand and pulled me back to face him. “I just want an answer Y/n,”

My eyes dropped to the floor and I opened my mouth to speak. It took a few moments before I found the right words.

“You annoy me to no end. You have no regard for the rules or authority. You’re always late and always a mess. You do the absolute minimum to get by when you could do more. You’re loud and obnoxious and your pranks really aren’t that funny. And yet every girl chases after you and you’re a terrible flirt with all of them!”

“Wow shoot a guy down why don’t you,” Sirius mumbled.

“But...” I sighed, finally looking at him, watching the hope spark in his eyes.

“But” I started again. “You’re also very sweet. And protective of your friends. You look out for the little guy and you don’t give up no matter the odds. You never use your blood status to your advantage and you’re still kind to your brother even though he’s not in the same house as you,” I took a breath in. “And every time I see those blue eyes, I can’t form a coherent though around you, and maybe I get why they chase you...”

“Yeah?” A smug grin tugged at his lips as he took a step closer to me.

“Maybe I’m getting used to them though,” I breathed out, my heart pattering.

“Oh really?” He raised an eyebrow at me.

I nodded. “So, there. That’s why I punched you then kissed you,” I tried to keep my voice even with minimal success.

“I see,” He was so close now. I could feel his warmth.

Nodding, my eyes cast to the ground, anywhere but the pools of gorgeous blue.

“Well, there’s one flaw in your little spiel here,” He cocked his head back, drawing my attention, my brow furrowing. “You haven’t asked me how I feel about you,”

“Oh you motherf—” My usual anger by his antics flared.

“Ah ah,” he smirked. “It’s my turn,”

I flinched as his hand came up, the briefest fear that he might retaliate to my assault on him earlier. But that’s wasn’t Sirius was it?

My debate was all for naught however because he stroked my cheek gently, cupping my face before drawing me in for a kiss that was soft and slow. Nothing like I knew him to be and yet everything he was. My lips molded against his, my hands reaching up to rest on his shoulders. I noticed him flinch this time.

Pulling away softly, I frowned at myself.

“I’m really sorry,” I whispered, stroking his cheek softly. “I should have thought punching you through a bit more,” Though I wasn’t a close friend of his, I knew what Lily told me which she learned from James.

“It’s fine,” He muttered in a tone letting me know he was hiding how he felt.

“Sirius,” I chided softly. His blue eyes met mine. “I’m truly sorry,” my words were earnest as he blinked away tears.

He pulled away from me, going over to the nearest window and leaning against the rail, brooding. I pursed my lips and went over to him slowly, standing beside him. I didn’t touch him, but I leaned against the railing beside him. We watched the stars together for a bit. Out of the corner of my eye I could see tear tracks on his cheeks.

I held out my hand to him, a peace offering. He could choose to take it or to leave it. Thankfully I felt the warmth and coarseness of his hand in mine.

“I thought I’d have at least a few months with you before I had to bring this up,” he sounded defeated. “Just a few happy months before I ruined it,”

“You haven’t ruined anything Sirius,” I encouraged softly.

“I have though!” His hand tore from mine as he paced away. “Whatever you think you know about me; you don’t know me! The real me! And all the fucked-up shit that comes with it!”

“Sirius,” I tried.

“No,” he growled. “Don’t. Don’t come at me with pity in your voice. I don’t need it. Not from you. Not from anyone.” With his back to me I watched his shoulders rise and fall with the effort it took him to draw I another breath.

“Hey,” I called softly. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it with me. That’s alright. I won’t hold it against you for any reason.” I walked over to him and slowly intertwined my fingers with his. “But don’t close yourself off from everyone. Not James, or Remus. If you don’t want to talk to me, at least talk to them,”

His anger seemed to fizzle out, his defenses lowered. He seemed to realize I wasn’t about to shout at him for shutting me out.

“I do,” he admitted. “They know,”

I nodded and pressed against his back, resting my chin on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to snap at you like that,”

“And I didn’t mean to scare you,” I smiled a bit.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” His lips quirked up.

He gathered me into his arms, holding me tight. I pressed my face into his shoulder, the cotton of his shirt pressed against my cheek. It smelled like him and held his warmth, and it was something I wouldn’t trade. And we held another until the world felt a little bit better and a few more pieces fell into place.

“So,” I prompted softly, drawing back.

“So?” His eyebrow rose in question.

“Are we... is this...?”

“Do you want it to be?” He sounded as unsure as I was.

I opened my mouth to speak but ended up nodding as he drew me back into his arms.

“I can’t promise you it’ll always be happy, or safe. And that I won’t frustrate you,” He for out quickly. “But I can promise you I can try to be who you deserve,”

“Sirius, it wouldn’t be you if you didn’t frustrate me.” I pointed out. “And I just want you to be you, that’s who I fell for,” Pulling back, a smirk played at my lips. “And you never did tell me how you felt about me,” I raised my eyebrows in question.

“I... oh... uh,” He stammered, his cheeks flushing a soft pink in the moonlight. “I... you’re... you’re so smart, and gorgeous, and confident and of course I’ve noticed you for the longest time, but I was so sure that you hated me that I buried any notion that I might like you,” His words were fast and nervous, but I picked up on them all.

“And now that you know I don’t exactly hate you?” I prompted, teasing him slightly.

“I... Godric you’re actually going to make me say it aren’t you?” He dismayed, causing me to laugh. He began to pace and ramble. “You’re devious, you know that?” He narrowed his eyes at me as he blushed deeper, his blue eyes casting to the ground. “I like you, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear, you little she-devil? I can’t think straight when you look at me or talk to me and I probably annoy the guys more than I should when I mention you, and they’ve been teasing me about it for the longest time, and I’m pretty sure I’m worse than James is about Lily! But I mean—just look at you! How am I not supposed to—”

“Sirius!” I laughed, catching his hand. “I just wanted to know that you liked me too, I didn’t need a monologue about how apparently wonderful you think I am,”

“It’s not like I do this kinda thing!” He protested, clearly distressed. It caught my attention.

“You... you’ve never?” My brow furrowed. “But all those girls... I would have thought...”

He simply shook his head, not daring to look at me. My perspective of him changed a bit more as a smile touched my lips at his innocence.

“Hey,” I drew his attention. “Thank you,” A blush warmed my face. “You really are sweet,” His blush mirrored mine.

“Only for you,” His debonair smile was back. I rolled my eyes on principle. “Why don’t we get out of here?” He offered his hand.

I nodded, taking his hand, letting him lead me through the castle. We were in no rush, though we were avoiding the prefects and Filch—a relatively new caretaker who started in our second year. Yet, instead of turning down the hall and heading to the staircases to the doors, Sirius pulled me somewhere new.

“Sirius!” I whisper scolded. “We need to go back,”

“Oh, come on,” He challenged. “Do something rebellious for once in your life,”

“I like you, don’t I?” I retorted. “Isn’t that enough?”

“That’s just the beginning sweetheart,” He grinned, pausing. “Here, look,”

It was the courtyard. Not the main one that was busy with students through the day, but a secluded one near the greenhouses. I had forgotten that I was ruffled with Sirius’ detour when I saw the courtyard. Bathed in the moonlight, the silver light fluttered onto the leaves of old birch trees, making the entire tree shine.

“Sirius... it’s...” I let go of his hand and took a step into the small yard, longing to reach out to the effervescent tree. “How did you even know this was here?” I turned back to him and my voice got caught in my throat.

If I thought the tree was stunning in the moonlight, it was nothing compared to the way the silvery beams reflected off of the blue of his eyes. He looked ethereal standing there, the stark contrast of his raven hair carving out his features that played with perfect highlights and shadows.

"You’re not the only one with a hiding spot,” He closed the distance between us and took my hands. “Now you know mine and I know yours,” Smiling, I nodded, my eyes not leaving his gaze, transfixed on the shimmering gossamer that they held.

Entranced in the moment, my heart sunk when I heard a third voice interrupt out haven of silver radiance.

“Who is that! What are you two doing out of bed!?”

Dread settled in my eyes as Sirius’ eyes lit up. “Run,” He grinned and took off, my hand in his, knowing that I would have no choice but to keep up with him.

I had no idea where we were going, and really had to trust Sirius to lead me to safety. He ducked into an empty classroom, signaling for me to be very quiet. Neither of us could help the wicked grins on our faces, however.

After we has heard Filch’s steps pass and wander off, Sirius motioned for me to wait while he checked the hall. Beckoning me forward, we crept into the hall and slunk back to the safety of the Common Room where we finally were able to catch our breaths and burst out laughing.

“My God!” I laughed. “You are so dead, Sirius!” I half threatened.

“What did I do!?” Fake hurt flitted across his face dramatically. “You’re the one who was so distracting that I forgot to keep watch!”

“Oh, so it’s my fault!?” I giggled.

“It is, you’re too distracting. I can’t think straight,” He grinned.

“Are... are they arguing?” I heard James ask.

“I think they’re flirting...” Remus replied.

Sirius raised an eyebrow at me as if to ask if I was ready for this. I told him with a look we’d never be ready for what was in store for us. We both faced our friends, hand in hand, shadowing each other. Lily was grinning at us, as was Remus, and James looked permanently confused.

“I think James is still a bit lost,” I muttered to Sirius.

“He was always the slow one,” Sirius sighed teasingly. “What do you saw we clear things up?”

“And what exactly are you asking Mr. Black?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, I’m sure you know,” He smirked, tugging me closer, his hands at my waist.

“Do I?” I mused.

“I think so,” His nose nuzzled against mine as out lips pressed together briefly, hovering millimeters apart, before meeting again nonchalantly.

I tuned out our friends shouting in victory.

After all, there was nothing more distracting than Sirius’ crystal blue eyes.

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sk1fanfiction · 3 years

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the many faces of tom riddle, part 4

-attachment, orphanages, and yet more child psych: time to add yet another voice to the void-

FULL DISCLAIMER THAT THIS IS JUST MY OPINION OF A CHARACTER WHO DOESN’T HAVE THE STRONGEST CANON CHARACTERIZATION, AND THUS ALL THIS IS BASED ON MY CONCEPTUALIZATION.

I'm going to be super biased, because my favorite portrayal of Tom Riddle is actually Hero Fiennes-Tiffin as eleven-year-old Tom Riddle, in HBP and I get to chat about child psych in this one, sooo here we go.

First of all, I’m just so impressed that a kid could bring that much depth to such a complex character.

This is the portrayal, I feel, that brings us closest to Tom’s character. Yes, Coulson’s brought us pretty close, but by fifth year, the mask was on.

We don't really get to see Tom looking afraid very often, but it's fear that rules his life, so it's really poignant in our first (chronologically) introduction, he looks absolutely terrified.

The void being the fandom's loud opinions on a certain headmaster. I wouldn't call myself pro-Dumbledore, but I'm certainly not anti-Dumbledore, either. (Agnostic-Dumbledore??)

Since I'm not of the anti-Dumbledore persuasion, I decided to poke around in the tags and see what the arguments were, so I don't make comments out of ignorance.

Most of the tag seems to be more directed towards his treatment of Harry and Sirius, but a few people mentioned that Dumbledore should have treated Tom with ‘exceptional kindness’ and tried to ‘rehabilitate’ him.

As I said in Parts 2 and 3, I am 100% in favor of helping a traumatized kid learn to cope, and I don’t think Tom Riddle was solidly on the Path to Evil (TM) at birth, or even at eleven. Not even at fifteen.

Could unconditional love and kindness have helped Tom Riddle enough for the rise of Lord Voldemort to never happen? Possibly, but...

Yes, I'm about to drag up that Carl Jung quote, again.

“I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.”

The problem with this is that if you’re going to blame Dumbledore for this, you also have to blame every other adult in Tom’s life: his headmaster, Dippet, his Head of House, Slughorn, his ‘caretakers’ at the orphanage, Mrs. Cole and Martha, and possibly more. In fact, if we're going to blame any adult, let's blame Merope for r*ping and abusing Tom Riddle Senior, and having a kid she wasn't intending to take care of.

Furthermore, you cannot possibly hold anyone but Tom accountable for the murders he committed. (I should not have to sit here and explain why cold-blooded murder is wrong.) And if you like Tom Riddle's character, insinuating that his actions are completely at the whim of others is just a bit condescending towards him. He's not an automaton or a marionette, he's a very intelligent human being with a functioning brain, and at sixteen is fully capable of moral reasoning and critical analysis.

I've heard the theories about Dumbledore setting the Potters up to die, and I'm not going to discuss their validity right now; but he didn't put a wand in Tom's hand and force him to kill anyone. Tom did it all of his own accord.

And while yes, I have enormous sympathy for what happened to Tom as a child, at some point, he decided to murder Myrtle Warren, and that is where I lose my sympathy. Experiencing trauma does not give you the right to inflict harm on others. Yes, Tom was failed, but then, he spectacularly failed himself.

We also have no idea how Dumbledore treated Tom as a student.

In the movies, it’s Dumbledore who tells Tom he has to go back to the orphanage, but in the books, it’s Dippet. We know that Slughorn spent a lot of time around Tom at Slug Club and such, yet I don’t really see people clamoring for his head.

I regard the sentiment that Dumbledore turned Tom Riddle into Lord Voldemort with a lot of skepticism.

But let's hear from the character himself -- his impression of eleven-year-old Tom Riddle.

“Did I know that I had just met the most dangerous Dark wizard of all time?” said Dumbledore. “No, I had no idea that he was to grow up to be what he is. However, I was certainly intrigued by him. I returned to Hogwarts intending to keep an eye upon him, something I should have done in any case, given that he was alone and friendless, but which, already, I felt I ought to do for others’ sake as much as his."

Now, assuming that Dumbledore's telling the truth, I'm not seeing something glaringly wrong with this. No, he hasn't pigeonholed Tom as evil, yes, I'd be intrigued, too, and it's a very good idea to keep an eye on Tom, for his own sake.

“At Hogwarts,” Dumbledore went on, “we teach you not only to use magic, but to control it. You have — inadvertently, I am sure — been using your powers in a way that is neither taught nor tolerated at our school."

Again, it seems like he's at least somewhat sympathetic towards Tom, and is willing to at least give him a chance.

More evidence (again, assuming Dumbledore is a reliable narrator):

Harry: “Didn’t you tell them [the other professors], sir, what he’d been like when you met him at the orphanage?” Dumbledore: “No, I did not. Though he had shown no hint of remorse, it was possible that he felt sorry for how he had behaved before and was resolved to turn over a fresh leaf. I chose to give him that chance.”

Now, I think Dumbledore is pretty awful with kids, but I don't think that's malicious. Yeah, it's a flaw, but perfect people don't exist, and perfect characters are dead boring. I am not saying that he definitely handled Tom's case well, I'm just saying that there's little evidence that Dumbledore, however shaken and scandalized, wrote him off as 'evil snake boy.'

It's also worth taking into account that it's 1938, and the attitudes towards mental health back then.

Why is Tom looking at Dumbledore like that, anyway? Why is he so scared? What has he possibly been threatened with or heard whispers of?

"'Professor'?" repeated Riddle. He looked wary. "Is that like 'doctor'? What are you here for? Did she get you in to have a look at me?"

"I don't believe you," said Riddle. "She wants me looked at, doesn't she? Tell the truth!"

"You can't kid me! The asylum, that's where you're from, isn't it? 'Professor,' yes, of course -- well, I'm not going, see? That old cat's the one who should be in the asylum. I never did anything to little Amy Benson or Dennis Bishop, and you can ask them, they'll tell you!

Tom keeps insisting he's not mad until Dumbledore finally manages to calm him down.

I'm really upset this wasn't in the movie, because it's important context. Instead we got these throwaway cutscenes of some knick-knacks relating to the Cave he's got lying around, but I just would have preferred to see him freaking out like he does in the book.

There was extreme stigma and prejudice towards mental illness.

'Lunatic asylums,' as they were called in Tom's time, were terrible places. In the 1930s and 40s, he could look forward to being 'treated' with induced convulsions, via metrazol, insulin, electroshock, and malaria injections. And if he stuck around long enough, he could even look forward to a lobotomy!

So, if you think Dumbledore was judgmental towards Tom, imagine how flat-out prejudiced whatever doctors or 'experts' Mrs. Cole might have gotten in to 'look at him' must have been!

Moving on to the next few shots, he is sitting down and hunched over as if expecting punishment or at least some kind of bad news, Dumbledore is mostly out of the frame. He’s trapped visually, by Dumbledore on one side, and a wall on the other, because he’s still very much afraid. uncomfortable, as he tells Dumbledore a secret that he fears could get him committed to an asylum (which were fucking horrible places, as I said).

It brings to the scene that miserable sense of isolation and loneliness to that has defined Tom’s entire life up to that point (and, partially due to his own bad choices, continues to define it).

And, when Dumbledore accepts it, his posture changes. he becomes more confident and more at ease, as he describes the... utilities of his magical abilities.

"All sorts," breathed Riddle. A flush of excitement was rising up his neck into his hollow cheeks; he looked fevered. "I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to."

Riddle lifted his head. His face was transfigured: There was a wild happiness upon it, yet for some reason it did not make him better looking; on the contrary, his finely carved features seemed somehow rougher, his expression almost bestial.

I do think Harry, our narrator, is being a tad bit judgmental here. Magic is probably the only thing that brings Tom happiness in his grey, lonely world, and when I was Tom's age and being bullied, if I had magic powers, you'd better believe that I'd (a) be bloody ecstatic about it (b) use them. And, like Tom, I can't honestly say that I can't imagine getting a bit carried-away with it. Unfortunately, we can't all be as inherently good and kindhearted as Harry.

Reading HBP again, as a 'mature' person, it almost seems like the reader is being prompted to see Tom as evil just because he's got 'weird' facial expressions.

So... uh...

Nope, let's judge Tom on his actions, not looks of 'wild happiness.'

To his great surprise, however, Dumbledore drew his wand from an inside pocket of his suit jacket, pointed it at the shabby wardrobe in the corner, and gave the wand a casual flick. The wardrobe burst into flames. Riddle jumped to his feet; Harry could hardly blame him for howling in shock and rage; all his worldly possessions must be in there. But even as Riddle rounded on Dumbledore, the flames vanished, leaving the wardrobe completely undamaged.

Okay, one thing I dislike is Tom's lack of emotional affect when Dumbledore burned the wardrobe, in the books, he jumped up and started screaming, instead of looking passively (in shock, perhaps?) at the fire. Incidentally, I can't really tell if he's impressed or in shock, to be honest. I think they really tried to make Tom 'creepier' in the movie.

This is one of the incidents where Dumbledore's inability to deal with children crops up.

I think he was trying to teach Tom that magic can be dangerous, and he wouldn't like it to be used against him, but burning the wardrobe that contains everything he owns was a terrible move on Dumbledore's part. Tom already has very limited trust in other people, and now, he's not going to trust Dumbledore at all -- now, he's put Tom on the defensive/offensive for the rest of their interaction, and perhaps for the rest of their teacher-student relationship.

Riddle stared from the wardrobe to Dumbledore; then, his expression greedy, he pointed at the wand. "Where can I get one of them?"

"Where do you buy spellbooks?" interrupted Riddle, who had taken the heavy money bag without thanking Dumbledore, and was now examining a fat gold Galleon.

But I'm not surprised Tom is 'greedy.' He's grown up in an environment where if he wants something, whether that's affection, food, money, toys, he's got to take it. There's no one looking after his needs specifically. I'm not surprised that he's a thief and a hoarder, and I don't think that counts as a moral failing necessarily, and more of a maladaptive way of seeking comfort. It would be bizarre if he came out of Wool's Orphanage a complete saint.

Additionally, I think given that the Gaunt family has a history of 'mental instability,' Tom is a sensitive child, and the trauma of growing up institutionalized and possibly being treated badly due to his magical abilities or personality disorder deeply affected him.

And there are points where it seems that Dumbledore is quick to judge Tom.

"He was already using magic against other people, to frighten, to punish, to control."

"Yes, indeed; a rare ability, and one supposedly connected with the Dark Arts, although as we know, there are Parselmouths among the great and the good too. In fact, his ability to speak to serpents did not make me nearly as uneasy as his obvious instincts for cruelty, secrecy, and domination."

"I trust that you also noticed that Tom Riddle was already highly self-sufficient, secretive, and, apparently, friendless?..."

And while this is all empirically true, these are (a) a product of Tom's harsh environment, and (b) do not necessarily make him evil. But the point remains that child psych didn't exist as a field of its own, and psychology as a proper science was in its infancy, so I'd be shocked if Dumbledore was insightful about Tom's situation.

But I've gone a ton of paragraphs without citing anything, so I've got to rectify that.

Let's talk about Harry Harlow's monkey experiments in the 1950-70s.

If you're not a fan of animal research, since I know some people are uncomfortable with it, feel free to scroll past.

Here's the TL;DR: Children need to be hugged and shown affection too, not just fed and clothed, please don't leave babies to 'cry out' and ignore their needs because it's backwards and fucking inhumane. HUG AND COMFORT AND CODDLE CHILDREN AND SPOIL THEM WITH AFFECTION!

I will put more red writing when the section is over.

This is still an interesting experiment to have in mind while we explore the whole 'no one taught Tom Riddle how to love' thing and whether or not it's actually a good argument.

Andddd let's go all the way back to the initial 1958 experiment, featured in Harlow's paper, the Nature of Love. (If you're familiar with Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, him and Harlow actually collaborated for a time).

To give you an idea of our starting point, until Harlow's experiment, which happened twenty years after Dumbledore meets Tom for the first time, no one in science had really been interested in studying love and affection.

"Psychologists, at least psychologists who write textbooks, not only show no interest in the origin and development of love or affection, but they seem to be unaware of its very existence."

I'm going to link some videos of Harry Harlow showing the actual experiment, which animal rights activists would probably consider 'horrifying.' It's nothing gory or anything, but if you are particularly soft-hearted (and I do not mean that as an insult), be warned. It's mostly just baby monkeys being very upset and Harlow discussing it in a callous manner. Yes, today it would be considered unethical, but it's still incredibly important work and if you think you can handle it, I would recommend watching at least the first one to get an idea of how dramatic this effect is.

Dependency when frightened

The full experiment

The TL;DW:

This experiment was conducted with rhesus macaques; they're still used in psychology/neuroscience research when you want very human-like subjects, because they are very intelligent (unnervingly so, actually). I'd say that adult ones remind me of a three-year old child.

Harlow separated newborn monkeys from their mothers, and cared for their physical needs. They had ample nutrition, bedding, warmth, et cetera. However, the researchers noticed that the monkeys:

(a) were absolutely miserable. And not just that, but although all their physical needs were taken care of, they weren't surviving well past the first few days of life. (This has also been documented in human babies, and it's called failure to thrive and I'll talk about it a bit later).

(b) showed a strong attachment to the gauze pads used to cover the floor, and decided to investigate.

So, they decided to provide a surrogate 'mother.' Two, actually. Mother #1 was basically a heated fuzzy doll that was nice for the monkeys to cuddle with. Mother #2 was the same, but not fuzzy and made of wire. Both provided milk. The result? The monkeys spent all their time cuddling and feeding from the fuzzy 'mother.' Perhaps not surprising.

What Harlow decided next, is that one of the hallmarks being attached to your caregiver is seeking hugs and reassurance from them when frightened. So, when the monkeys were presented with something scary, they'd go straight to the cloth mother and ignore the wire one. Not only that, but when placed in an unfamiliar environment, if the cloth mother was present, the monkeys would be much calmer.

In a follow-up experiment, Harlow decided to see if there was some sort of sensitive period by introducing both 'mothers' to monkeys who had been raised in isolation for 250 days. Guess what?

The initial reaction of the monkeys to the alterations was one of extreme disturbance. All the infants screamed violently and made repeated attempts to escape the cage whenever the door was opened. They kept a maximum distance from the mother surrogates and exhibited a considerable amount of rocking and crouching behavior, indicative of emotionality.

Yikes. So, at first Harlow thought that they'd passed some kind of sensitive period for socialization. But after a day or two they calmed down and started chilling out with the cloth mother like the other monkeys did. But here's a weird thing:

That the control monkeys develop affection or love for the cloth mother when she is introduced into the cage at 250 days of age cannot be questioned. There is every reason to believe, however, that this interval of delay depresses the intensity of the affectional response below that of the infant monkeys that were surrogate-mothered from birth onward

All these things... attachment, affection, love, seeking comfort ... are mostly learned behaviours.

Over.

Orphanages, institutionalized childcare, and why affection is a need, not an extra.

His face is lit the exact same was as Coulson’s was in COS (half-light, half-dark), and I said I was going to talk about this in Part 3. I think perhaps it's intended to make Fiennes-Tiffin look more evil or menacing, but I'm going to quite deliberately misinterpret it.

Now, for some context, Dumbledore has just (kind of) burned his wardrobe, ratted out his stealing habit, and (in the books only, they really took a pair of scissors to this scene) told him he needs to go apologize and return everything and Dumbledore will know if he doesn't, and, well, Tom's not exactly a happy bugger about it.

But interestingly, in the books, this is when we start to see Tom's 'persona,' aka his mask, start to come into play. Whereas before, he was screaming, howling, and generally freaking out, here, he starts to hide his emotions -- in essence, obscure his true self under a shadow. So this scene is really the reverse of Coulson's in COS.

And perhaps I'm reading wayyy too much into this, but I can't help but notice that Coulson's hair is parted opposite to Fiennes-Tiffin's, and the opposite sides of their faces are shadowed, too.

Riddle threw Dumbledore a long, clear, calculating look. "Yes, I suppose so, sir," he said finally, in an expressionless voice.

Riddle did not look remotely abashed; he was still staring coldly and appraisingly at Dumbledore. At last he said in a colorless voice, "Yes, sir."

Here's an article from The Atlantic on Romanian orphanages in the 1980s, when the dictator, Ceausescu, basically forced people to have as many children as possible and funnel them into institutionalized 'childcare', and it's absolutely heartbreaking.

There's not a whole lot of information out there on British orphanages in the 30s' and 40s', but given that people back then thought you just had to keep children on a strict schedule and feed them, it wouldn't have a whole lot better.

The only thing I've found is this, and it's not super promising.

The most important study informing the criteria for contemporary nosologies, was a study by Barbara Tizard and her colleagues of young children being raised in residential nurseries in London (Tizard, 1977). These nurseries had lower child to caregiver ratios than many previous studies of institutionalized children. Also, the children were raised in mixed aged groups and had adequate books and toys available. Nevertheless, caregivers were explicitly discouraged from forming attachments to the children in their care.

Here's a fairly recent paper that I think gives a good summary: Link

Here, they describe the responses to the Strange Situation test (which tests a child's attachment to their caregiver).

We found that 100% of the community sample received a score of “5,” indicating fully formed attachments, whereas only 3% of the infants living in institutions demonstrated fully formed attachments. The remaining 97% showed absent, incomplete, or odd and abnormal attachment behaviors.

Bowlby and Ainsworth, who did the initial study, thought that children would always attach to their caregivers, regardless of neglect or abuse. But some infants don't attach (discussed along with RAD in Part 2).

Here's a really good review paper on attachment disorders in currently or formerly institutionalized children : Link

Core features of RAD in young children include the absence of focused attachment behaviors directed towards a preferred caregiver, failure to seek and respond to comforting when distressed, reduced social and emotional reciprocity, and disturbances of emotion regulation, including reduced positive affect and unexplained fearfulness or irritability.

Which all sounds a lot like Tom in this scene. The paper also discusses neurological effects, like atypical EEG power distribution (aka brain waves), which can correlate with 'indiscriminate' behavior and poor inhibitory control; which makes sense for a kid who, oh, I don't know, hung another kid's rabbit because they were angry.

Furthermore...

...those children with more prolonged institutional rearing showed reduced amygdala discrimination and more indiscriminate behavior.

This again, makes a ton of sense for Tom's psychological profile, because the amygdala (which is part of the limbic system, which regulates emotions) plays a major role in fear, anger, anxiety, and aggression, especially with respect to learning, motivation and memory.

So, I agree completely that Tom needed a lot of help, especially given the fact that he spent eleven years in an orphanage (longer than the Bucharest study I was referring to), and Dumbledore wasn't exactly understanding of his situation, and probably didn't realise what a dramatic effect the orphanage had on Tom, and given the way he talks to Tom, probably treated him as if he were a kid who grew up in a healthy environment.

In case you are still unconvinced that hugging is that important, there's a famous 1944 study conducted on 40 newborn human infants to see what would happen if their physical needs (fed, bathed, diapers changed) were provided for with no affection. The study had to be stopped because half the babies died after four months. Affection leads to the production of hormones and boosts the immune system, which increases survival, and that is why we hug children and babies should not be in orphanages. They are supposed to be hugged, all the time. I can't find the citation right now, I'll add it later if I find it.

But I think it's vastly unrealistic to say that Dumbledore, who grew up during the Victorian Era, would have any grasp of this and I don't think he was actively malicious towards Tom.

Was Tom Riddle failed by institutional childcare? Absolutely.

Were the adults in his life oblivious to his situation? Probably.

Do the shitty things that happened to Tom excuse the murders he committed, and are they anyone's fault but his own? No. At the end of the day, Tom made all the wrong choices.

And, for what it's worth, I think (film) Dumbledore (although he expresses the same sentiment in more words in the books) wishes he could go back in time and have helped Tom.

"Draco. Years ago, I knew a boy, who made all the wrong choices. Please, let me help you."

#tom riddle #the many faces of #tom marvolo riddle #character analysis #character study #albus dumbledore

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wy-van-sunshine · 3 years

Text

wesper fanfic!

Plot: After the “Crooked Kingdom” events, Jesper and Wylan live together at the Van Eck residence. One night Wylan can’t fall asleep and he looks for some company from Jesper. He finds him staring at that small portrait of a red-headed child which Marya Hendriks had drawn during her exile in the care house.

Wylan had some trouble falling asleep in the last few weeks. His life had radically changed: his devious father was to stand trial and he would probably end up to Hellgate; he had somehow gotten involved in a gang of criminals and - in case that wasn’t enough - he had found friendship as well as love among those criminals. He was now an independent boy, ready to replace his father in the city business, possibly to make a better job than him, and his life felt almost... happy?

Wylan didn’t remember many times in which he felt happy, definitely not since the day he was told his mother was dead.

But mostly, now he felt loved.

Wylan had been in love before - or at least he thought so - but he never felt that same warm feeling come from the person to whom he gave everything he had.

Still, as a simple student afraid of every aspect of life he probably didn’t have that much to share.

But Jesper knew everything about him. He knew him in a way no one ever did, maybe even better than Wylan himself. He knew about his most hurtful experiences and, even though he often mocked him about his little flaws, Wylan knew he didn’t do it to do him any harm. He would never.

So, basically, when Wylan thought about his new life he felt as if his universe and timeline had completely changed: he was a whole new boy, but he didn’t mind at all.

That evening was different, though: he had already had these thoughts while trying to sleep, but he was so tired from the heists he had attempted with the Crows that the need for a good night sleep was stronger than anything else.

But now two weeks had passed and his mind was thinking at incredible speed, leaving him no space to rest. He lied in his bed for about an hour, then, after stating it was useless, he stood up to reach the living room and spend some time with Jesper.

Jesper always got in bed later: they shared the room, but Wylan’s need to sleep and the sharpshooter’s relentless energy were not the best thing after the heists, so Jesper had started to leave the redhead some space in order to let him rest - not without mocking him a little about it, obviously:“Go to sleep, sunshine. I have to say, though, I thought I’d fallen for a young boy, not for the oldest man alive!”.

Wylan smiled thinking about how every insult coming from Jesper embarassed him, but at the same time it somehow made him feel special. After all, that was his way to flirt and he knew it.

“Hey, Jes?” he said softly, entering the living room and looking over the sofa on the left. The view warmed his heart: the room was a little dark and the only light, coming from the fire in front of the sofa, played with Jesper’s features in a beautiful way. Every time Wylan fell a little more for him, he couldn’t explain how, but he did.

The sharpshooter lift his head and looked at him, smiling while putting a little paper he held in his hand in the pocket of his shirt. “Already missing this hot piece of Zemeni boy, sunshine?”

Wylan’s cheeks flushed with red - he would probably never get used to Jesper’s candor - and he walked up to the sofa, where he sit next to his boyfriend.

“I really hate you, you know?” he said staring at the ground, but leaning in on Jesper’s chest, waiting for him to wrap his arm around his shoulders.

“Evidence shows the opposite, actually” answered the Zemeni with a grin, circling Wylan’s shoulders with his arm. “What is it, anyways? Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Am I not allowed to wish for some time with my boyfriend?”

Jesper smiled, his eyes spreading light:“Of course you are, love, don’t even need to ask. When did we estabilish I am your boyfriend, though? I must’ve gotten lost somewhere between our kiss and- ouch!” Jesper couldn’t finish his sentence as Wylan punched him on the thigh, laughing softly with a sound the sharpshooter loved with all his heart. He laughed back and placed a tiny kiss on the redhead’s neck.

“I suppose my need for sleep is over, now I just lay in bed thinking about everything that’s happened and I can’t help but making my mind wander” said Wylan answering the original question. He turned over to look at Jesper in the eyes, letting a grin shape his lips:”Which means we can go to bed together now”

“Wylan Van Eck, are you saying what I think you’re saying?” asked Jesper with an astonished but amused expression. “Wow, hanging out with us really made you a terrible person”

The redhead burst out laughing, laying his forehead on the sharpshooter’s shoulder, his eyes filled with tears of amusement:”You’re so stupid”

“I am learning from the best, you know”

“Stop it!”

They both laughed out loud for a while, Wylan’s whole body shaking and Jesper’s arms wrapped around his waist in an attempt to calm him down. Eventually, they both relaxed and silence fell on them, on their hug which neither of them felt like breaking, not just yet. Wylan’s forehead still lay on Jesper’s shoulder: after keeping his eyes closed for a while, enjoying the moment, he opened them and his gaze fell on the little piece of paper laying in the pocket of his boyfriend’s shirt. It was inside and he couldn’t quite see what it was, but he was pretty sure he recognised it and his heart made a huge, joyful leap.

“What were you doing, anyways?” he asked, pretending like he hadn’t seen anything “I noticed you were looking at some paper... was that something business related?”

Wylan noticed with silent amusement Jesper’s eyes starting to wander in the room, meeting everything but his gaze:”Erm, yes, yes, business. A merchant wants to buy- no, sell some of his... well, yes, business related stuff. Definitely. I’ll think about it tomorrow, anyways” Jesper cleared his voice, trying not to choke on his own words ”Shall we go to our room now?”

The redhead smiled, leaning in on the sharpshooter in order to kiss him. Their lips met and Wylan seized the moment of distraction to rapidly take the paper from Jesper’s pocket and jump off the sofa not to get caught. He stared at the little drawing of him as a child, made with love by his very much alive mother Marya: he remembered Jesper had stolen it when they visited her, but he didn’t think he was still keeping it after Genya had used it to restore his aspect. He smiled, looking at Jesper with not even Saints know how much love in his blue eyes.

Wylan didn’t think he would ever see bold, enterprising, outgoing Jesper blush... and yet there he was, his dark skin slightly changing colour in realisation of what his boyfriend was learning. The redhead said nothing for a while, a huge smile laying on his lips as he stared at the sharpshooter. After some time in which Jesper did nothing but move anxiously with his whole body on the sofa, Wylan finally broke the unbearable silence.

“Jesper Llewellyn Fahey, you are a big softie!”

If possible, Jesper blushed even harder, hiding his face in his hands and cursing the day his father revealed his middle name. Thank you, Da. Not only do I have to deal with this, I also have to hear Llewellyn being called a big softie. Jesper wasn’t enough. He didn’t like the way he was handling the situation: he was desperately looking for some of his sarcasm, but he was not prepared to face his feelings in such a strong way. He felt so stupid.

Suddenly he felt some gentle fingers wrap around his wrists and he lifted his head, meeting the blue oceans resting in Wylan’s eyes. The redhead was smiling, a light he had never seen before shone in his gaze. He was... wait, was he about to cry?

“Wy?” he asked, not certain about how to behave. What was happeing? If anything, he should be the one crying from shame.

“You really like me that much?”

Wylan’s question was so simple, so genuine. Jesper couldn’t help but falling a little more for him every time he witnessed how pure he could be.

“What... of course I like you. A lot, I’d say. How is that something to cry for?”

Jesper put a hand on the redhead’s cheek, brushing away with his thumb a single tear running on it.

“I have never had someone like you, Jesper. I have really never felt like someone cared for me this much. Not my father, not my friends, not my crushes. And now you’re here and I... I don’t know how I deserved any of this. Are you even real?”

The sharpshooter laughed softly, his shame completely gone, his love for that skinny, clever boy stronger than ever.

“You’ve earned every single part of this, Wy. You are so amazing and please, every time I tease you punch me, because you deserve eveything, more than me, more than anything this world could ever offer you. Please know how much you’re worth. Please.”

Wylan smiled, sending his tears back, then he sit on Jesper’s lap and he placed both hands around his neck:”I don’t care what I do or do not deserve, all I care about is you. As long as you’re here, it’s okay”

Jesper kissed him slowly, with kindness, grateful to the Saints, to Djel and to whomever was up there for placing that merchling on his way.

“Back to the original matter” said Wylan after a while “I’m putting up posters in every street of Ketterdam to tell the world what a big softie Jesper the sharpshooter is”

Jesper laughed out loud:”Yeah sure, everyone will believe that. It wouldn’t work out, anyways”

“And why is that?”

“Your mother drew you as a beautiful child and you’re really not that handsome, No one would say that’s you.”

Wylan grinned and punched Jesper twice on his arm.

“Damn! What the hell was that for?”

“You just told me how amazing I am and that I should punch you every time you say the opposite. It’s on you”

“Fair enough”

#wesper #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #six of crows #wylan x jesper #wesper fanfic

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afictionaladventure16 · 4 years

Text

Remember Me (Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff x Daughter!Reader)

Chapter 15

Remember Me Masterlist

Previously on Remember Me...

Word Count: 3,076

Warnings: Character Death.

A/N: The moment you’ve all been waiting for has finally arrived.

Also, BIG THANK YOU TO @sugarrushblondie for editing this fic for me!!

Bucky heard sniffles down the hallway, he raised his eyebrows as he continued to walk down the hall. Slowly he approached the small nursery, taking in Natasha’s appearance on the rocking chair as she held their daughter. “Doll, are you crying?” Bucky asked Nat as he walked into the small room. He kneeled in front of her, out of instinct, his hand went directly towards the sleeping baby in Natasha’s arms. Gently caressing her head as she sucked on the baby bottle. Bucky couldn’t help but smile before quickly directing his attention towards his girlfriend who was in tears.

Natasha held you in her arms as she fed you your bottle, she sniffled as she looked up at Bucky, “n-no,” she said as she quickly wiped away her tears, “just sleep-deprived ‘s all.”

“Mhm, sure,” Bucky said with a smirk as he got up from his kneeling position and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Doesn’t really seem like it,” he mumbled as his flesh hand gently touched his daughter’s cheek. He smiled down at her as Natasha held onto her. Natasha sniffled some more, Bucky looked up at her with concern, quickly noticing more tears streaming down her face, “Oh, Natasha, I was only joking.”

“No, no, it’s not that, it’s just that-” She let out a small sob, she motioned for Bucky to take their daughter from her arms, which he quickly did. Natasha got up from the rocking chair and wiped away her tears, “I was just sitting there and feeding her and I realized how much I love her and it’s just so crazy.” Natasha paced for a bit before walking over to Bucky, gently placing her hand on her daughter’s cheek. “And I couldn’t stop thinking that one day she’s going to be a teenager and she’s going to be screaming that she hates us but right now she is this tiny baby that depends on us... She’s changed me, Bucky. You showed me how to love and she… she showed me the definition of it.” Natasha sniffled once more, as she took in the view of her daughter and the man she loved. She never wanted this to change, she wanted things to stay this way for as long as she could, but she knew that was impossible. “I wouldn’t have this any other way, Bucky,” Natasha whispered. “I’m so glad we found each other, I’m glad we did what we did.”

Bucky looked into Natasha’s eyes, moved by her words, he let out a small chuckle, “I love you, Nat,” he said softly, “I really do.” His eyes locked into Natasha’s red-stained eyes as tears began to form in his own. “Even when you are sleep-deprived and very emotional.”

“Even when I get cranky?”

Bucky let out a small pit of laughter, “even then!” He shifted the baby in his arms, now holding her with one arm. With his free arm, he gently touched Natasha’s cheek as she leaned into his touch. “You showed me that I can be loved after everything that has been done to me,” Bucky looked down at his daughter, his hand still on Natasha’s cheek. “You made me someone I thought would never become.”

Natasha smiled, inching closer to Bucky to place a kiss on his lips. Yet, it was quickly interrupted by a small cry from a small bundle in Bucky’s arms.

“It’s your turn,” Natasha said.

“Aw come on!”

“We agreed, diaper duty will go to the person who is either holding her or nearest to her.” Natasha gestured to Bucky as he held their daughter. “Looks like it’s your turn, Buckaroo.” Bucky rolled his eyes as Natasha turned to walk away. “Admit it, you love me!”

Bucky let out a huff, “Yeah, I do.”

Natasha looked at you, the little girl she once held in her arms, now standing in front of her. Well, her body was standing in front of her. Natasha didn’t know who was in control, but she knew that her daughter was in there somewhere.

“Doctors,” Zemo called. Two of the doctors ran up to you, you stared at them as they began to do some tests. “Well?” Zemo asked after a couple of seconds.

“Everything looks fine,” One of the doctors mumbled.

Zemo smirked, “But I thought you said she wasn’t ready.” The doctor glared over at Zemo, the code wasn’t ready. It had flaws the doctor had to fix, but those flaws were minor. Yet, something minor could always be the start of something major, right? “Soldat,” Zemo spat. You quickly drew your attention to Zemo. He chuckled as he looked over to the parents who were now sitting on their knees side by side, “I don’t know about you two, but I think I prefer her this way.” He glanced back over to you, “no hesitation, no talking, even though she didn’t speak much, to begin with. But, still, she’ll just do what I say.”

“What the hell did you do, Zemo,” Roger spat.

“Silence! Traitor!” Zemo walked over to Roger, a smirk played on Zemo’s face as he glanced over at you. “Maybe I’ll start with you,” Zemo whispered. “Take a new toy out for a ride, what do you think?”

Bucky winced at Zemo’s nickname for you. “Just tell us what you want, Zemo,” he muttered.

“What I want?” Zemo scoffed. Zemo shook his head, “I don’t want anything, but if you had asked, what am I seeking? Well, that’s a whole ‘nother thing. I seek revenge.”

“Figures,” Natasha chuckled.

Zemo whipped his head over to her, “what’s so funny?”

Natasha smirks, “it’s just this whole thing feels like some superhero movie. The heroes get kidnapped, the villain is seeking revenge, and we all know how those movies play out.” Zemo remained quiet. “Villians usually die and heroes live a happy life. So, do you really think this plan is going to go through?” Zemo looked down at his hands for a second before looking up at Natasha and in an instant, Zemo’s raised his hand. His hand struck Natasha in the face.

“Nat!” Bucky yelled as he yanked on his restraints. “I swear to god if you touch her again, Zemo!”

You felt something stir inside you as you watched Zemo yell at the couple, you didn’t know why but all you wanted to do was protect them.

“Soldat!” Zemo yelled. You looked directly at him, waiting for your orders. “Kill them,” Zemo said as he walked away from the couple. You began to walk over to the couple as you can spot the fear in their eyes as they watched you walk towards them.

“Y/N, baby, it’s me. It’s your mom, please, the least you can do is remember me,” Natasha pleaded as you stood in front of them. You knew her. You closed your eyes letting out a deep breath. Her voice was familiar, the look in her eyes. It was there. Something was there. You knew it. You knew them, but from where?

“Y/N, remember us,” Bucky begged. Hoping that his voice would help you put the pieces together, he knew that it’s what helped him. When Steve didn’t give up on him, when he kept trying to put the pieces together by recalling old memories, it’s what Bucky had to do now for you. “It’s me. Your papa, remember? We would sing that song that you loved so much,” Bucky felt himself begin to choke up as he recalled the memories. Tears formed in his eyes as he looked in his daughter's soulless eyes. The eyes that once held life.

Zemo knew what the parents were trying to do, he had to stop them. He couldn’t risk any more risks of his mission being ruined again and your hesitation was just that. “Soldat! Kill them!” Zemo ordered once again. The longer you hesitated, the more Zemo’s heart began to race. He fumbled around his waist for something. Roger watched as Zemo pulled out a gun from his waistband, holding it up towards you.

“Zemo! No!” Roger yelled. With all his strength, he knocked the guard that was beside him, with his elbow, causing the guard to fall over to the ground. Roger grabbed the key that had fallen out of the guard’s pocket, quickly taking off the restraints.

“Soldat!”

You continued to look at the couple in front of you, “We’re your parents,” Natasha whispered. She knew the hesitation meant something. She knew that talking to you was helping.

Two loud bangs rang through the room, you whipped your head around to spot a man in front of you, his back turned to you. On the other side, you saw Zemo clutching his knee. The man in front of you slowly fell to his knees. Roger. “R-roger?” You remembered him. You knew him. He helped you. He was good. You ran over to Roger as he laid on the ground. “Roger!”

Blood began to pour out from Roger’s mouth, “Do remember when we went to that arcade?” You focused on placing pressure on the wound on Rogers’s chest, “Y/N, darling, I need you to look at me.” Roger coughed out blood, you glanced up at him.

“You’re going to be okay,” you whispered.

“I need you to listen,” he whispered. “Do you remember when we went to that arcade?” You felt tears begin to form in your eyes as you tried your hardest to remember, you shook your head as a small sob escaped your lips.

“It’s okay,” Roger said as he placed his hand on top of yours. “You remind me so much of my daughter,” Roger felt himself fading, he had to do this quickly. “I remember when she got scared I used to tell her that it was time to face the sky.” You glanced over at Roger, the last of his sentence sounded familiar. You’ve heard someone tell you that before. “Y/N, it’s time you face the sky.”

You anxiously looked around as the men surrounded you and your father. Holding onto him tighter as you spotted your mother being dragged by a couple of men, you didn’t quite understand what was happening but you were terrified and you knew the outcome wasn’t good.

“Nat,” you heard your father whisper. You glanced up towards your father. Bucky gave you a glance, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head, “it’s time you face the sky,” he whispered. Your parents had told you that whenever they said that phrase to you, that meant you wouldn’t see them for a while. They always said they’d come back to you, but you never imagined there would be a day you’d hear that phrase. You never imagine being apart from your parents. You never wanted to. It was your biggest fear.

You shook your head frantically, “Papa, n-”

“Shhh,” Bucky rubbed your back. “I promise,” he said softly. You looked into your father’s eyes as tears began to form, “I love you, fiica mea.”

You let out a gasp as you came back from the short flashback. “I remember everything” you muttered to yourself as all the memories began to resurface. You glanced down at Roger with tears in your eyes, you noticed the life in his eyes quickly fading away. “Roger, stay with me!”

“I’m sorry, kid. I think my time here is done,” Roger let out a soft chuckle, “I have a family I need to reconnect with too, you know?” You shook your head as you still held pressure onto Roger’s wound. You could feel the thumping of his heart begin to slow down and slowly it stopped.

“Roger?” You shook him softly. “Roger! No!”

“He’s gone,” Zemo spat as he slowly stood up, wincing as he placed pressure on his left leg. You turned to look at Zemo as he raised his gun towards you, “and you’re next.” He smirked before pointing the gun to a different direction behind you, “or maybe I should kill your parents first.” You glanced behind you. Your parents, there they were. You remember them after all this time. You began to feel the emotions begin to stir inside you, you cleared your throat, now wasn’t the time.

You stood in front of the gun that was directed towards your parents, “you’ll have to get through me first.” There she was, the little girl Natasha and Bucky remembered. Standing in front of them now ready to defend them. Natasha wished she wasn’t tied up, she wanted to protect you. She pulled and pulled on her restraints but they wouldn’t budge. Natasha glanced at Bucky, watching as he was attempting to take his restraints off.

“Soldat,” The doctor spat.

You clench your jaw, “she has been wiped many times, we thought that trigger wouldn’t work on her anymore,” another doctor exclaimed as he took a couple of steps back from the girl. The fear was visible in his eyes, he knew the capability of your powers and he knew you haven’t yet seen their full extent. Now that you remembered everything, he was sure that they didn’t have the likelihood of leaving this room alive.

“You’re afraid,” you said in a mocking manner as a grin formed in your face, “funny how the tables turned.” You moved slowly towards the doctors, they quickly took steps back.

“Soldat, I demand you to back down,” Zemo ordered you, noticing the sparks beginning to form in your hands.

You sent him a glare, “Back down?” She chuckled, “but I was so hopeful to show my parents the cool shit you’ve done with me, remember that Zemo? The serums? Because I sure as hell remember.” You ran over to Zemo, wrapping your hands around his neck. “Or have you forgotten the monster you’ve created?”

Zemo tried to claw at your hands. The electricity emerged once again in your hands shocking Zemo, but it wasn’t long until you felt a sharp pain in your hip and you were pushed towards the ground, falling face first. You groaned as you slowly got on your feet, glancing towards the soldier that had pushed you. “As easily as I created you, I can also destroy you,” Zemo spat as he pointed his gun towards you.

“Is that with or without the help of your little minions?” You wiped the blood off of your lip, glancing over at Roger who laid there lifeless, you couldn’t save him and it angered you, you could feel the rage inside you getting bigger by the minute.

“Why don’t you be a good little girl and obey orders, huh?” Zemo snarled as he gestured towards your parents.

“You ruined me!” You shouted, the anger was beginning to crawl into your hands, forming sparks once again. “You monsters took me away from my family!” the sparks began to grow bigger as your anger grew. “And to top it off, you made me into your monster!” You raised your arm, facing it towards Zemo, without a second thought the electricity moved from your hand into Zemo causing him and the guards that were near him to fall down on the ground. It only lasts a second before you fall onto your knees, your powers still new to you. It took everything within you to deliver such power. Your hands on the floor as you tried your best to regain your energy.

Glancing over at Zemo, you noticed he was unconscious. You groaned as you quickly got off the floor and made your way over to your family that was tied up, untying your dad first.

You untied your mother, as soon as her hands were free, her hands cupped your face, “It’s you,” she whispered.

Tears began to form in your eyes, giving her a small nod. She wrapped her arms around you and let out a small sob. You tightened the hug as tears flowed down your cheeks. “Mama,” you whispered as you took in her scent, the warmth of her hug, the comfort, and feeling of safety. You felt something tighten around you, glancing up you noticed your dad had joined the hug, “papa,” you whispered as he placed a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“We’re here, fiica mea,” he said softly as he inhaled deeply, letting out a breath of relief. You all stayed in that position for what felt for hours but it was only merely minutes.

“As much as I want to continue this reunion, You both have to get out of here,” you stated as you slowly broke the hug.

Your father brought you into a tight embrace, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. “Not without you,” he muttered.

You let go slightly of the embrace, looking at both of your parents. “I’ll be right behind you guys,” you glanced over at Zemo. “I have some business to take care of first.”

“Let us help you,” Natasha said, not wanting to lose sight of you.

You shook your head, “no, I need to do this on my own.”

“This is a fight we have to do together,” Bucky stated. “It isn’t just your fight.”

You nod, “you guys began the fight, let me finish it.” Bucky looked into your eyes, he could see the little girl that was taken from him in your eyes, but you had grown up. “Please, papa.” His heart grew at the sound of you calling him papa, how he had missed it hearing that word flow from your lips. He gently pressed another kiss on the top of your head.

“Okay,” he croaked. “The quinjet is north from here, we’re going to have to get Steve and the others out of here, so if you-”

“I know, I know, I’ll meet you guys there. Now go!”

Natasha brought you in for another hug, before letting you go, “You sure, you don’t need a little help?”

You smiled, “I may not know the full extent of my powers, but I think I got this covered. Now go help your friends get out of here.”

“Okay,” Natasha whispered. Bucky grabbed Natasha’s hand, leading the way out of the room.

“Mama, Papa,” you said aloud, catching their attention. “I love you.”

“We love you too,” they said in unison before walking out of the room.

You turned to glance over at Zemo as he slowly began to regain consciousness, “time to finish this.”

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jungkookiebus · 5 years

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The Devil is in the Sacristy | kth

Genre: supernatural au, smut Pairing: Lucifer!Taehyung x reader Word Count: 2.7k Warnings: if you are religious (mostly Christian) by any means and get offended easily DON’T READ THIS, dirty talk (kinda religion based...), cunnilingus (Tae literally invented it), vaginal sex. Summary: “... the devil doesn't come dressed in a red cape and pointy horns. He comes as everything you've ever wished for ...”

“Hey, _____,” you heard whispered behind you as everyone turned to their neighbor in greeting. Sunday morning brought the church service you always attended with your grandparents. The voice was deep, sonorous and it seemed like butter melted across warm bread while at the same time having the edge of ice cubes falling into a glass. You turned to find the source of the voice behind you. There stood a man in a striking, tailored suit and very much out of place in this small church. He looked every inch like your dream guy; dark skin, slightly curly brown hair that fell past his eyebrows, and a glistening hint of mischief in his eyes.

He extended his hand towards you and as soon as your hands made contact it was as if every muscle in your body became rigid all at once. Just as soon, it felt like his touch was sending signals into your nerve system to relax.

“How did you know my name?”

“I know a lot about you,” he smiled.

That’s when you noticed the chatter of greeting had gone quiet around you. Turning, you saw that your grandmother was in the middle of an embrace, but she was completely still; the both seemingly locked in an eternal embrace. Turning once more, you saw your grandfather in a frozen handshake with an old co-worker. Your gaze turned back to the man in front of you and he was still smiling softly at you. All was the same, but this time you noticed an unnaturally flash of blue color to his eyes. His gaze softened and with it so did your resolve. You felt drunk, high, or on some other plane of existence and all you knew was that you were unable to look away from him now. Your hand was still held firmly in his as he pulled you forward lightly, making sure that you didn’t lose balance leaning over the pew. A good foot taller than you, he leaned down over you and looked at your face a little closer.

“You have perfect proportions,” he commented.

You were still frozen, entirely sure that this was a fever dream. He leaned closer still and ran his nose along your cheek while inhaling lightly.

“You smell good, too.”

“What is happening?” you were finally able to ask.

“Don’t be scared,” he whispered against your cheek. Goosebumps rose along your skin at both the tone of his voice and the slight threat behind the comment that he seemed to be suppressing. But no matter what he had done or said up to this point, you felt drawn to him as if he had some type of hold on you that you couldn’t quite place.

“Are you scared, ____?” he whispered again.

“No,” you whispered back. Were you? Weren’t you? You were too numb to tell.

“I’m going to need you to follow me.” His hand slipped from yours and in an instant, he was beside you in the same row, impossibly out of the way of the other patrons. You were startled and the spell he had on you warped a little, causing you to shake your head in confusion. Your hand was in his before you could focus again, and he was leading you out of the pew and into the main aisle. He didn’t turn towards the exit as you had anticipated, but instead started to walk up the aisle to the main altar. The priest stood still before you, behind the altar, and holding the body of Christ up to the heavens, but he looked like a character from a still frame. He didn’t breathe, he didn’t move, and he didn’t acknowledge either of you as you were led around and to a small door.

“Where are we going?” you stumbled on your words. Hearing your own voice in the maw of silence around you sounded foreign to your ears.

He turned and smiled when he reached the door. You noted that his teeth were impossibly white, no flaws on his skin to be seen, and the same blue glint was ever present in his eyes. He pushed the door open without saying a word and pulled you inside. Darkness blanketed you but there was enough ambient light for you to tell you were in the sacristy. Robes of various colors hung along one wall while the other was lined by a long, plush couch. The room smelled heavily of cedar and you assumed it was to keep the moths at bay from the clothing. But before your eyes, the room began to shift ever so slightly. It became…a little warmer, not overly so. You were still comfortable, but you noticed the slight rise in temperature. The edges of your vision seemed to shimmer, and you felted so comforted that you had almost decided this was the state you wanted to stay in. Every bit of anxiety you had ever felt melted and slipped off you like oil, your sadness was eradicated, and every bit of fear you had dissipated.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I…feel good.” Your voice sounded unsure, but your mind was made up; this was the best you had ever felt.

“Good,” he said as he let your hand fall and moved forward to cup your cheek in his warm palm.

You hummed and leaned into him as if he were an old lover. He chuckled as you melted into his touch and his hand slid underneath your chin, tilting your head upwards.

“I haven’t seen a color red like this…,” he said while absently running his thumb along your bottom lip, “since the apple.” He winced and then grinned as he thought of something. “Such a naïve girl, but she knew she wanted more.” His tone had dropped to a whisper again as he leaned closer, lips almost touching yours and you found yourself leaning into him. “She was a little like you. She took the bait and fell.” At that moment he drew your bottom lip between his teeth and let it go with a pop. Warmth spread down your body immediately. “But I have a feeling you’re a lot sweeter.”

He led you blindly, but smoothly over to the couch where he directed you to sit. Your body bounced a little on the cushions, but you remained still, awaiting further instructions that you knew were coming. The suit he had on had to be made for him and very expensive. He shrugged off his jacket and laid it across the arm of the couch. Underneath, he wore a black, silk waistcoat over a white shirt. He unbuttoned the golden cufflinks at his wrist and rolled the shirt up to his elbows. The skin of his arms was just as beautiful as his face but instead was covered in a dark array of tattoos. You couldn’t get your eyes to focus enough but what you could see looked like one of the many pictures of tortured souls you had seen in Dante’s Inferno. Warmth blanketed you again, but this time it was more of a feeling. The jittery warmness you feel when you find out your crush has a crush on you as well? ‘Yea, that feeling,’ you thought lazily.

“Oh, _____.” He said your name almost as if he were reprimanding you as he dropped to his knees in front of you. His hands were on your knees now, just below the hem of your Sunday best. He looked up at you through the dark fringe of his hair and you could swear his eyes had more of a blue fire than the last time you had looked in them. “What am I going to do with you?” He rose on his knees and leaned forward, letting his hands slid up your thighs and effectively bunching your dress to the tops of them. His lips ghosted against yours once more and you were filled with his heady scent; a musky, woodsy smell but beneath it cinnamon and myrrh burned at the edge of your senses. His lips were on yours and they were the softest you had ever touched. His hands moved lithely along the tops of your thighs. Your legs parted as he moved one hand between them while simultaneously exploring your mouth with his tongue. He moaned at the wetness now gathered between your legs, soaking into your panties, and soon, onto the couch. He pulled back with a sigh, eyes hooded, and he licked his bottom lip as he stared at you. His fingers were running along the soaked cloth of your panties feeling them as they stuck to your every curve.

“What would He think? Here of all places?”

“He?” You were in a daze.

“Yea,” he chuckled. “He. So high and mighty here to judge people for their sins, but does He honestly think that makes people happy? No. What makes people happy is this,” as he punctuated the last word, his fingers were past the fabric and inside of you.

You couldn’t suppress the moan that left your lips. It filled the room and seemed to come back to you, amplified so that you could hear your own sin.

“This is what people pray for. Don’t think I haven’t heard your thoughts during Mass…that’s right,” he said against your ear, “I’m here, too.”

His fingers slid in and out of you tortuously. You fumbled, grabbing for his wrist.

“Do you want more?” he teased.

“Please,” you whispered.

You couldn’t see the devilish grin, all teeth, as he laid his cheek against yours. He was breathing heavily, fingers pumping inside of you, and soon he was feeling selfish.

“Ask me,” he demanded.

Your thoughts were muddled, hazy, and all over the place. The same sticky warmth cloaked you and all your thoughts were now focused on his hand as he rubbed his thumb across your clit.

“I want y-you to fuck me.” You felt the sweat drip down your brow as your body lurched, hips twitching on the couch that was slowly becoming ruined beneath you.

“Here?” You could hear his smile this time. He brought his face back in front of yours, an evident mischievous grin painted across his face, and the blue flame glowed dull behind those dark irises.

“Yes,” you breathed.

“As you wish.”

He pulled his hand away in favor of grabbing your hips and pulling you as close to the edge of the couch as possible, creating a somewhat uncomfortable angle for your back but you were too curious to see where this would go. He deftly pulled your panties down and off your ankles before he placed both of your thighs on his shoulders. Ducking down, he wasted no time in devouring your cunt. Heavenly was the word you wanted to use, but you knew that was the wrong description. Ecstasy never felt so good. It was almost as if he himself had invented oral sex and only he knew how to properly do it. Your eyes rolled back as he licked and suckled at your clit. His hands came around your thighs, gripping them tightly, and pulled you further onto his face. You tried desperately to brace yourself on your hands, but he didn’t seem to be letting you go anytime soon. Giving up, you slumped against the back of the couch, giving in to the overwhelming amount of pleasure surging through your nerve endings. Your toes curled and your feet turned inwards against his back as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. A high pitched keening filled the room as you started to struggle against him. Even though you hadn’t come yet, the stimulation seemed almost too strong, sending small convulsions out in its wake.

“Stop…,” you breathed, though it was barely above a whisper. But honestly, you didn’t want him to, nor did he care about your request.

You felt the ever gathering wetness that was surely coating his face now, but he was relentless in his endeavors. Your hands were in his hair as the muscles in your neck screamed for relief in their cramped position, but you knew that this experience, him between your legs, was going to be etched into your soul for all eternity. Just when the heavens were about to open, however, he pulled away. You gasped as your body clenched, willing the feeling to come back and bring you pleasure once more. Still kneeling, he undid his belt and then next his pants, pulling an impressive and nearly abnormally large cock from the silk fabric. If you weren’t so high on the moment, your eyes might have bulged a little. He rubbed the head along your slit and over your clit repeatedly until you were practically begging for him to be closer once more.

“You want me inside of you? Here?” He was drawing this out as much as he could, and you could tell he was enjoying every second of it. His eyes met yours and the blue flame there flickered a little higher.

“Yes, please, just do it already,” you begged.

He pushed inside of you quickly, stopping to let you adjust to the sudden intrusion. He leaned forward on his hands, hovering over you, as he sweetly kissed you again. He started to circle his hips slowly, pushing and brushing against all the right spots that had you twitching. Tongue running along your bottom lip, he started to thrust a little faster. Kissing down your neck, he started to get more forceful.

“You belong to me, you’ve always belonged to me,” he growled as he marked the skin along your collarbone. “He can’t save all of you.”

Your breath came out in short gasps as he fucked into you harder and harder. His speed and stamina were almost supernatural and the slide of his cock felt as if it were made for you.

“This is how you imagined it, yes?”

How many Sundays had you sat in that same pew thinking of things you should have never even entertained? Every. Single. One. Had you believed all the scripture thrown at you since you were a child? At one point, yes, but then it all became an annoying habit you couldn’t get rid of.

“Yes,” you said throwing an arm around his neck and bringing him in for another kiss.

You felt his smile in that kiss. He knew he had you then.

“So good for me,” he said reverently. “Following everything I say…do you like your reward?”

“God, yes,” you moaned as he sucked on the skin of your shoulder.

“He had nothing to do with this.” His lips skated against your jaw. The sounds of his skin against yours and the wetness sticking to both of you filled the hallowed space around you.

Your orgasm drew closer and closer and soon you were wrapping your legs tightly around his waist in a vain attempt to get him deeper inside of you.

“Are you going to give yourself to me?”

“Fuck.” You couldn’t form coherent thoughts or words.

As if he knew exactly what you liked, his lips were on yours, hot and heavy the moment you came. Your cries were muffled inside his mouth as he took all of you both body and soul. As you came down, he placed soft kisses to the corner of your mouth, the tip of your nose, and then your forehead. He looked into your tired eyes once again and the blue there was brighter than ever.

“Are you an angel or something?” you asked dumbly through mumbling lips.

His smile was devastatingly beautiful. He could have asked for your life and you’d gladly give it…or maybe you already had?

“Not anymore,” he smiled.

The buzz of talk and laughter sounded loud in your ears and your entire mind snapped to the present. In front of you, people were talking and hugging. Your grandmother was pulling away from a hug and your grandfather was talking about an old friend that had recently passed. Your mind still felt drugged and a dull ache between your legs told you that you had not imagined what had just happened. Shock and confusion must have been written across your features because a small, cold hand was now on your forearm. Turning, you looked into the face of your very uneasy grandmother.

“____? Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen the Devil.”

#ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #smutcentralnet #ficswithluv #btswriterscollective #bts smut #bts au #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #lucifer!taehyung #reader insert #taehyung #nonidol!au

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siren1song · 4 years

Text

So I wasn’t originally gonna write a part two to Sea Life but then Rem drew this amazing fanart and I got inspired to continue it. You can also thank @rose-gold-roman for being an absolute Sweetheart and getting me motivated to finish it tonight.

Taglist: @acanvasofabillionsuns, @emo-disaster, @greenninjagal-blog, @jungle321jungle, @demidork84, @sleepy-sides, @gattonero17

Tail End

A tail.

He had a tail.

“When you had said something new,” Virgil started, face scrunching up a little at how strange it was to talk beneath the water’s surface, “I wasn’t sure what you had meant, but I certainly wasn’t expecting this.”

Dee laughed, and Virgil knew he was laughing at him despite not looking away from the iridescent purple of the tail attached to his hips.

Moving it felt natural, as if he’d gone years with a tail rather than the two legs he was born with.

“I know, I figured when you didn’t recognize the color in your hair and the sealed gills on your torso as signs of a human shifted siren you had no idea of your birthright,” Dee said, gently pulling Virgil close to his chest.

Virgil blinked up at the siren, a little confused by his words.

“A human shifted siren? I wasn’t aware they could do that? And you don’t have color in your hair, how is that a sign of a siren?”

Dee grinned, and Virgil nearly startled at the very sharp teeth he’d never seen before. He swam back, watching as the siren’s appearance changed. Yellow faded into the long black locks of his hair, his tail shifted from the calming pale yellow Virgil was used to into a striped pattern of vivid yellow and deep black.

So focused on Dee’s tail, Virgil didn’t notice the rest of the shift until a long, black claw gently lifted his chin and his eyes met the pale milky pupils of Dee’s. The whites of his eyes were now black and his grin was unsettling with his gray skin. It was glowing, almost as if there were tiny fires under the surface.

“A deep sea siren,” Virgil murmured, his breath caught in his chest because it was certainly a terrifying sight but he couldn’t help but very much enjoy the way it looked.

A laugh rippled through the water and Virgil’s skin grew bumps at the way it sounded. Like a hollow echo of a water cave combined with the angry hisses of a cat who wanted to be left alone.

“In a way. I prefer the middle point between the surface and the deep,” Dee explained, the ghastly features fading back to what Virgil was used to seeing.

Before he could answer, or rather ask more questions, Virgil heard shouting above the water surface, distant and unintelligible. Curious, he flicked his tail and shot upwards, head breaking the surface to see Patton hanging over the side of the ship, looking down at them as he held his glasses to his face.

Virgil watched as Patton heaved a sigh and pulled back from the railing, appearing a moment later to gesture for him and Dee both to move around the ship. He turned to look at Dee, a little confused by Patton’s lack of reaction to him being in the water and the finned ears he could now feel with the air making the sensitive skin freeze.

Dee just shrugged and dived back under the water, apparently willing to follow Patton’s instruction to meet him on the other side. With a small sigh that felt almost weirder above the water than it did under, Virgil followed him. He wondered briefly what Patton wanted, especially considering he didn’t seem surprised by Virgil’s changes.

Which he hadn’t really gotten a good look at just yet. All he had seen was his tail, and it was beautiful, yes, but Virgil was sure his appearance had changed more than that. Notably the bizarre push on his torso when he breathed in water and his lack of drowning as a result and the thin webbing between his fingers.

Patton was leaning over a boat, the rigging ropes still attached to the iron loops embedded into the sides, when they got to the other side of the Mind Palace. Virgil only lifted his eyes above the water, Dee rolling his own as he heaved himself onto the edge of the boat the way he had when they first met.

“Pirate. Was there something you needed?”

Virgil watched as Patton hummed with interest and eyed Dee. He tensed when his friend reached towards the siren, picking up a lock of drenched black hair.

“It’s really neat that you can change your appearance. Is that just you or can other sirens do it too?” he asked, dropping Dee’s hair to look him in the eyes.

Dee was quiet for a moment, looking over his shoulder at Virgil who had risen a little more above the surface in his confusion.

“My father could do it too, but I haven’t met another siren who could shape shift their appearance outside of human shifting since his death, no.”

Patton frowned, but seemed to decide to drop the topic as he focused his attention on Virgil.

“Well, I was wondering when you were gonna figure out who you really were, kiddo,” he said softly, grinning sheepishly and leaning back when Virgil abruptly surged forward to grip at the boat, staring at Patton with wide and almost angry eyes.

“You knew?”

“Of course! I- Well…”

Patton sighed, then leaned towards Virgil and dipped his hand in the water, a sheen of blue scales showing in the moonlit water. The webbing between his fingers was shredded, where it was connected veiny and weak.

Virgil gasped, grabbing Patton’s hand out of the water and frowning when it looked human again. He looked at his friend, confusion turning to concern when he saw the acrid expression there.

“A navy man found me when I was weak,” he said, spitting the word navy like it was poison on his tongue, “he didn’t give me to the crown at first. Oh no, he thought he could take full advantage having a weak siren at his mercy. He made me sing for my life, wanted to see what his fatal flaw was.”

Dee inhaled sharply, staring at Patton with wide eyes and sympathy. Patton returned it with a bitter smile, pulling his hand from Virgil’s grasp and rubbing at his fingers gingerly.

“He wasn’t too happy I couldn’t do that. Wasn’t happy that my particular breed of siren wasn’t the singing type.”

Virgil frowned as Patton spoke, listening to him describe how he was held captive and his fins torn to shreds the longer he was imprisoned by the navy man. His heart ached for his friend, and he couldn’t help but heave himself inside the boat, awkwardly bending his tail as he pulled Patton to his chest.

“My sister, your mother, found me Virgil. She helped me escape that hell, brought me to Thomas and helped me recover enough to turn human. I can’t be a siren anymore, but I’m glad you can be, kiddo. I was planning on showing you myself, with you being born human you needed to be twenty-one and a shock needed to happen for the change, but it seems your siren lover over there beat me to it,” Patton said, giggling when Virgil flushed.

Dee snorted himself, watching the two in the boat with a soft expression. Virgil stuck his tongue out at him only to yelp when it scraped across his teeth that were much sharper than he remembered.

Patton and Dee both started laughing at him as he pressed his fingers inside his mouth, pulling them back to make sure there was no blood, glaring at both when he confirmed he was fine.

“I am new to this whole being a siren thing! I wasn’t expecting the fangs, so stop laughing!”

There was a splash as Dee laughed himself back into the water, Virgil pouting as Patton tried to control his giggles, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of his head.

“I’m sorry, V. It’s gonna take some time to get used to this change, and it will be a challenge to keep it from the crew, but Thomas will help you.”

Virgil went quiet for a moment, looking at his shining purple tail, the dark shade of wine the only constant with the shifting shimmer of his scales.

“Will I be able to shift back to human?” he asked quietly, running his fingers across his tail only to pick it up as he finally noticed the sharpened point of his nails.

Patton was quiet as he examined his new features, using one hand to stroke the webbing on his other and shuddering when it tickled the sensitive skin.

“Yes, just not… not right away. You’ll need to spend time in each form to get your body used to the shifting, but the time spent between each change will shorten until you’ll be able to do it just as easily as you’re able to throw a dagger.”

Virgil looked up at Patton then looked at the edge of the boat when Dee lifted himself back up with a lingering grin.

He supposed… being a siren with his friend (or uncle? Apparently?) and his… lover? By his side it wouldn’t be so bad. Virgil knew he didn’t want to abandon Thomas or his crew, they were basically his family at this point, but perhaps he could use being a siren to his advantage as a pirate, once he figured out how to be a siren.

#casper writes #ts virgil #ts janus #ts patton #anxceit #body horror #maybe? idk im tagging it jic #also a Surprise in this one too!!! :D #quite a few actually kdshfg #sympathetic deceit #i forgot that tag skdfjghs #yes i titled it tail end for the pun #thomas mention #forgot that tag too heck #i cant think of anything else that might need to be tagged #OH #implied past torture #okay i think thats all #enjoy!!!!!!

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spacebatisluvd · 4 years

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I wrote a sequel to “Autonomic Responses”, and it looks like it’s going to be an on-going series. Eventually, there’s probably going to be some actual smut, which I will not be posting here because this blog is (by and large) safe for work.

If it was just going to be a straight smut fic, I probably wouldn’t have mentioned it here at all, but as it is, it looks like nonsexual intimacy is going to be a huge element of the fic, as well as Entrapta trying to give her spacebat nice things even if he drags his feet the whole time. Okay, with that out of the way:

Summary: Entrapta provides a more compelling reason for her study.

Content warning: Light nudity. Self-esteem issues. Very mild bondage and dom/sub undertones. Chemical castration (that sounds super dark, but it’s a choice; it’s not being forced on anyone).

Hordak glanced over his shoulder at Kadroh and Entrapta. He was not jealous. At all. That was a useless emotion and he was above it.

He was just...irritated. He was trying to work, and Kadroh had come bounding in, shouting and giggling. Now, he was pulling off his shirt —Hordak was not jealous of the unblemished expanse of deep cobalt skin or his perfect physique, untouched by illness—and babbling in excitement as he modeled the various clothing items he’d picked up at the market. Entrapta oohed and awed over everything, admiring him as he preened and posed for her.

Hordak’s ears pressed flat, and he pretended to be preoccupied by his plans for rebuilding Salineas, but he’d read the same sentence at least three times without the slightest comprehension. He needed to leave them to themselves, if he wanted to make any progress, yet he remained, slowly growing more and more irritated with himself. They were entitled to their fun, and he should let them enjoy themselves without hovering.

Just as he finally convinced himself to leave and let them be happy without him around to spoil things, Kadroh finished his mock fashion show and bounded back out of the room, off to bother the chefs for tiny snacks. Hordak shook his head, his ears relaxing a little. Finally! Maybe now he could get some work done.

Except....

Entrapta now turned her attention on him. She was standing on her hair behind him, leaning close. He turned to look at her, feeling her breath on his ear. “Hordak, maybe we should go shopping for you sometime.”

“I have an adequate amount of clothing.” Shortly after arriving in Dryl, he’d commissioned a few dresses for himself. The cut was essentially the same as his old uniform, but now he bore Dryl’s sigil on his chest rather than the Horde sigil.

“Okay, but....” She pursed her mouth, trying to decide how best to explain. “Do these clothes make you feel good about yourself? Do you enjoy wearing them?”

He set down the tablet, lowering his ears as he looked at her. Mostly because he was confused. “They fulfill their purpose.”

She gave him a look he was coming to recognize—she was plotting something. He tensed a little. Entrapta seemed intent on subjecting him to new things and new experiences, insisting that they find things that he ‘enjoyed’.

For reasons unknown to him, she seemed to be collecting this information so that she could use it on him. He wasn’t complaining—it was nice when she brought him a mug of cocoa in the morning, or when she asked her chefs to prepare the little fruit tarts that he and Kadroh enjoyed so much. He trusted her implicitly, but he still found the experiences unnerving. More so because he couldn’t quite understand why she was so intent on collecting this information. He was already happier than he’d ever been, just being with her in Dryl. Wanting anything more seemed absurd. Unreasonable.

Kadroh, perhaps, deserved to be treated to such things, but Hordak?

Whatever he thought he deserved, though, he could tell by the look in her eye that they’d be going shopping soon, despite the feeble protests he might raise. She didn’t say anything about it, though, likely intent on planning more fully before submitting him to her plot. “Okay! As long as you’re comfortable,” she said casually.

He was not fooled. “I am. Comfortable. Very comfortable.”

Her smile was brilliant. “I’m glad! What are you working on?”

He released the breath he’d been holding. This was more familiar territory. He was more sure of himself, more confident. Turning back to the desk, he pressed his fingers to the surface, manipulating the screen so an enlarged view of the blueprints was visible. “Rebuilding Salineas. I was thinking about installing a desalination plant here.” He pointed and spread his fingers to focus on it. “With that and an irrigation system—“

“The inland villages wouldn’t be as susceptible to drought.”

“Exactly.”

“And with the tides....”

He nodded, a smug smile tugging at his mouth. “Yes; I believe we should be able to use that to generate energy. An electrical grid could revolutionize their way of life.” He lost his smug expression, leaning forward. His ears drew down and he folded his hands in front of him. “Of course, Mermista is skeptical of my intentions. Or my abilities. I’m not entirely sure which.”

She was very close now, nearly leaning on him so she could look over his shoulder. “She’ll come around. You just have to prove yourself to her.”

“Hmph. They tell me to make up for my wrongdoings by rebuilding what I helped destroy. Yet before I do, I must prove myself trustworthy. But in order to do that, I must help them rebuild. Their logic gives me a headache.”

“Yeah, I know.” She reached up to run her fingers through his hair. It seemed like an absent-minded gesture, but his whole being fixated on the feeling. “I had to prove myself when I rejoined the alliance too. It was hard, at first.” He shut his eyes, trying to pay attention to her words, but it was hard with her hand in his hair, scritching lightly at his scalp. “But they’re really nice once you get to know them.”

His ears started to droop, and he definitely wasn’t thinking about Salineas or the princess alliance anymore. His heart rate slowed and he allowed Entrapta to lift his chin. I t was only when he opened his eyes to see her studying him through her welding mask that he started to come back to himself. “Hmmm. Your hair isn’t cresting. Am I doing this right?”

He shook his head, trying to shrug off his strange placidity. “Are you experimenting on me again?”

“Maybe.” She lifted the mask. “Is that okay?”

“I am surprised you’d find me interesting enough to experiment with.”

“Hordak, you’re an alien! A bionic alien! Why wouldn’t I be interested?”

He glanced at the door. “Kadroh would be a better subject. He doesn’t have my defects. He would provide you with more accurate information on my species. Any data you collect from me would be flawed.”

“But you’re my lab partner! I don’t want to experiment like this with anyone else. Just you.”

He blinked, ears twitching. “I...see.”

“Do you?” He hesitated, not sure how to answer that. Her hands cupped his face, holding him steady as she looked down at him. His head was still tilted back, and she stood behind him, her features upside-down in his view. “Hordak, have you thought about continuing our exploration of your autonomic responses to tactile stimulation?”

He swallowed, and a rope of her hair curled loosely around his throat. Not a threat. Never that. But it made him more conscious of his pulse-points, his rising heartbeat. “I have. But.” Having her so close was suddenly overwhelming. He pushed the rope of hair away and stood, walking toward the window so he could at least pretend to look outside. He clasped his hands behind his back, legs flexing as he tried not to rock on his toes. “I synthesized the hormone cocktail that Prime used to keep his clones from becoming...distracted. I’ve been taking it.” One hand clenched tight around his other wrist.

“Oh! Is that why your hair isn’t reacting?”

He glanced over his shoulder, looking her over. Her gaze was intent, but her hair was wrapped around anything close at hand—the chair, the table leg, her own arms. She was holding herself back to give him the space he needed. Something inside him unclenched, and he turned from the window to face her fully. “Indeed. So I’m not sure that any further experiments would provide you with any useful data. As I said, Kadroh would be a much better subject for you.”

Her hair tightened. “Can I show you something?”

He cocked his head. “I’m not sure why you feel the need to ask. I am always interested in whatever—“ One rope of hair wrapped around his wrist and tugged him from the room. She was not quite running, but her pace was urgent and he had to walk briskly to keep up. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere private.”

With that, she pulled open a door and pushed him inside, shutting it behind her. A thread of hair locked the door as she walked past him, hopping on one foot as she tried to take her work boots off. Before he could offer assistance, she lifted herself on her hair and curled her legs up to her hands so she could get her boots off. She tossed them aside, swiftly followed by her socks. Only when she unclasped her overalls did he start to become alarmed. “What are you doing?”

“Showing you my defects.”

The top of her overalls fell to her waist and she immediately started to shimmy out of them. He watched for a moment, baffled. “You do not have—“

“Hordak, I’m not perfect. Neither are you. Neither is Kadroh or anyone else. And it’s okay!” She dropped her overalls and tugged off her shirt as her hair deposited her safely on the ground. “Look—“ She stood before him in her underwear, arms and legs star-fished to showcase her whole body. “I am short.”

“Your stature is—“

A rope of hair pressed to his mouth, silencing him. “Hush. As I was saying; my body-type is ‘unfashionable’.” Her eyes lowered for just a moment. One hand pressed to her stomach, pinching the place that pouched out with subcutaneous fat. His shoulders tensed and he strode forward, not liking the way she did that at all, but her hair dropped to his chest, pushing him back. “And look—“ she held her arms out in front of her, showing him the shiny scar tissue that covered her arms and much of her hands. “I have scarring on my arms and hands. They aren’t even cool scars, either—I just burned myself in a lab accident.” She laughed a little self-deprecatingly. “Just smart enough to get myself into trouble, right?”

“Entrapta—“

“Do you think less of me for my defects?”

“Those are not defects! Your body is performing as intended!”

“Imperfections, then. Do you think less of me?”

“That’s absurd! Why would I?”

“Good! And you know I don’t think less of you for yours.” He flinched and looked away, ears drooping a little. He did know that. “So stop trying to push me off on Kadroh. I don’t want to see his autonomic responses. I was to see yours.”

“I was not pushing you off—“ She put her hands on her hips and gave him a look. He cleared his throat and put his hands behind his back, looking at the floor. “It is difficult to understand why you would choose me when there are other—“ He swallowed down the word ‘better’, knowing she would not appreciate the adjective. “—options available.”

“You listen to me when I talk. You understand me. And I like to think that I understand you too.”

His chest swelled. “I have had the depths of my mind plumbed, and yet you understand me better than anyone.”

She smiled broadly, her cheeks pink. “You say things like that. And you mean them.”

“Why would I speak falsely?”

She swallowed and looked away, grabbing a lock of hair and combing her fingers through it. She started to pace, but she seemed to shake herself free of whatever thought had gripped her. She smiled at him again. “I don’t know. People do, though. Lie.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Someone hurt you.”

She seemed to shrug it off, though her hands were still wrapped in her hair. “Everyone gets hurt. Right? I mean...we’ve both hurt people. A lot of people. It happens. Everyone does it. Everyone experiences it at one time or another. It’s all just a matter of degree.” Her gaze went distance. “I wonder if there’s a system of measurement for that....”

He came closer, lifting a hand to offer some comfort. He stopped before he could make contact. “May I touch you?”

“That’s another thing!” she exclaimed, spinning suddenly as her hair took hold of him. She walked him backward, toward the wall, pinning him there. “You understand that I can’t always....” One hand fumbled, as if she could pluck the word she wanted from the air. “Be touched.”

Her hair was wrapped around his upper arms, holding him securely but not tightly. He swallowed, looking down on her. It was not fear that set his hearts hammering and caused something low in his abdomen to tighten. It was something else. Something new.

She raised herself up on her hair so they were at eye level. “Do you see now? Why I want you and not someone else?”

“No. But—!” He swallowed, trying to speak before she could pull away, despite the lump in his throat. “I’m grateful. I may not understand why, but I am glad that you feel for me the same way I feel for you.”

She smiled. “Good.” She reached for his hair, running her fingers through it. “How’s that feel?”

He shut his eyes, pressing into her hand. It was different, now. Somehow, having his hands bound while she pet him was thrilling rather than relaxing. He could feel his scalp prickling, though his hair remained flat. “It’s. Good. Not as overwhelming as it was before.”

“Interesting.” Her hands traced down his scalp until she reached his ears. “Have I ever told you how cute your ears are?”

His ears flexed and his eyes opened wide. “No, you—!” He sputtered. “They are not!”

“No?” she asked, smiling as she ran a thumb over the edge of each ear.

“No.”

“If you say so,” she said in a sing-song. He huffed, feeling his cheeks grow hot. “This is cute too.” She brushed a thumb over his cheek.

“I am not cute!”

“Being a subjective term, I don’t think you get to decide what I do or do not find to be ‘cute’.”

He huffed, unable to refute that. Victorious, she smiled, her hands dropping to his jaw before trailing down his neck to rest on his chest. He wondered if she could feel his hearts beating under her hand. “Can I continue?”

“With what?”

“Exploring your reactions to tactile stimulation.”

His ears flattened. “With the hormones I’m taking, I doubt my reactions will prove titillating.”

“I’m not looking to be titillated. I’m interested in seeing what kind of touches you enjoy. What feels good to you. What you like. It doesn’t have to be sexual to be enjoyable.”

His cheeks were only getting hotter. He swallowed. “I see.”

“Besides,” she added, looking him over, “I would like a basis of comparison, should you ever choose to stop taking them.”

A soft noise escaped him. It definitely didn’t sound anything like a whimper. “Oh.”

“May I proceed?”

His hearts were beating hard, and something inside him squirmed. It was not shame he felt. Not fear. Something adjacent, without the sting of either. Anticipation, perhaps, though it was sharper than that. More intense. He flexed his arms, feeling the strength of her hold on him, and the anticipation peaked.

“Yes.” He swallowed, wondering what he was getting himself into. “Please proceed.”

#entrapdak #hordak #entrapta #wrong hordak #my writing #link #have to use the desktop to make the readmore work #such a pain #but i wasn't comfortable leaving this out in the open on everybody's dash #it needed a readmore

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liemonyellow · 4 years

Text

it will be forever

read on ao3

Summary: Janus has been waiting for months to get down on one knee and propose to the love of his life. He’s timed it perfectly: the opening night of Roman’s best and biggest role to date in the same theater where they first met. Things don’t happen how he expects them to, however.

Warnings: None

“You good, Janus? Remember to actually bring the ring?” Virgil asked for the umpteenth time.

Janus rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh, his breath misting in the wintry air as he hugged himself tightly. “No, Virgil, I lost it in the five minutes since the last time you asked.” He patted his pocket, admittedly relieved to feel it was still, in fact, there. “It’s still right here.”

“First of all, you forgot your gloves, which I have never seen happen, especially in the middle of winter. Second, who was it that panic-called me just five hours ago, terrified that he lost his engagement ring?” Virgil put a finger to his chin in mock contemplation. “You’ve been planning this proposal for what, four months now? If it doesn’t go exactly according to plan you’re gonna be insufferable.”

Janus sniffed haughtily. “I found it, didn’t I?”

“I still can’t believe you actually hid it inside the snake tank and forgot.”

Virgil’s snickering was cut short by Janus’s sharp shove against his shoulder. He was about to shove Janus back when he saw something in the distance and threw up an arm and waved.

“It’s them! Over here!”

The two they were waiting for jogged up to them, joined by two others they didn’t immediately recognize.

“Vee! JD! Sorry for keeping you,” Remus grinned as he threw an arm over each of their shoulders, then added, “Someone was too busy getting mobbed by his adoring fans.”

“Oh, really?” Janus broke into a smile as he slipped out from under his best friend’s arm and into those of his boyfriend’s.

“Just a couple of old friends. I was surprised, too! You remember Patton and Logan, right?”

“Virgil, Janus,” Logan greeted with a nod, “I hope you two are doing well.”

“It’s been too long!” Patton exclaimed, smiling brightly.

“Oh, shit! Is that you, pop star?” Virgil said, grinning. “You both look so different!”

The other four chattered away as they caught up, but Janus only had eyes for Roman. He looked up at him, arms draped over his shoulders and around his neck, taking in the sight of this gorgeous, beautiful man lit by the warm, yellow glow of the marquee. Only now that he was here did Janus truly feel the weight of the little box in his pocket. Perhaps he should wait? After all, Roman had just wrapped up a busy opening night, he was probably looking forward to a nice dinner with their friends and a relaxing ride home and-

“So,” Roman said, his voice cutting through Janus’s thoughts like a beam of light on a moonless night, “what did you think?”

Janus let his eyes drift down from Roman’s warm hazel ones to the lopsided smirk he wore when he wanted to hide his nervousness, raising a hand to run his fingers through Roman’s gelled hair. The texture was stiff and still a little greasy from Roman’s onstage exertions and not the soft silkiness he was accustomed to, but Janus loved it all the same. Very much worth forgetting his gloves at home. He gave Roman a soft smile as his prince leaned into the gesture, gently grasping the hand and bringing it down to place a kiss into Janus’s palm, then held it against his cheek. The warmth burned against Janus’s frozen fingers.

“I think,” Janus teased, “I’ve seen better.”

Roman huffed at that, though his eyes remained bright and amused. “It couldn’t have been worse than my performance that first night we met.”

Janus raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure what you mean,” he said airily.

“You don’t remember walking right into me while ranting about all my flaws as an actor to my twin brother, in this exact spot in front of this exact theater?”

“Not at all,” Janus lied, smirking. Roman chuckled and took a step back, sliding his hands down Janus’s arms to his hands, holding them gently with his own.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did forget. We didn’t exactly start off on great terms. Which, ah, reminds me,” Roman glanced at their friends, who were still talking amongst themselves, and had apparently pulled out their phones to take and share photos at some point. Virgil winked conspiratorially at Janus. He was probably already filming them. Roman cleared his throat, catching their attention, and turned back to Janus.

“Janus,” he said, his eyes big and warm and soft, “you have made me so, so happy these last few years. You were there when I got my first major role, you helped me through the rough times where I didn’t think I would ever act again, and yeah, we’ve had our disagreements every so often, but, we’re still here. Together.”

Janus, still smiling, tilted his head and narrowed his eyes in confusion, unsure where Roman was going with this. He couldn’t be… could he?

Roman took a breath and another step back and lowered himself on one knee, keeping hold of Janus with one hand and reaching into his inside coat pocket with the other. Janus’s free hand came up to cover his mouth. Oh.

“Janus, when I fell in love with you, I knew it would be forever. Will you marry me?”

Nestled in the box in his hand was a ring, a marquise-cut yellow sapphire set into a white-gold band that curved along each side toward the points, flanked by a row of round white diamonds that tapered down in size as they swept out from the central stone and along the band. It sparkled in the glow of the streetlamps, stars dancing in each facet.

Overwhelmed with emotion and unable to help himself, Janus’s eyes filled with tears and his lips pulled into a wide grin behind his hand. He pulled away and turned around, his breath coming in short, staccato hiccups of laughter. Wiping his tears, he reached into his pocket and brought out the box, turning around to face magnificent, wonderful Roman, who was patiently awaiting his answer.

“You have the worst timing,” Janus said, opening his box and revealing the ring inside, a princess-cut pink diamond set diagonally in rose gold, two white oval diamonds at its top and bottom corners, with a row of smaller, round diamonds along the top edges and in the band along either side of the bottom gem, curls of metal shaping the ring into a crown. Roman blinked at the offering, saying nothing. Then, a huge grin spread across his face, and he rose to his feet.

“Is- Is that a yes?” he asked, starting to laugh himself. Janus nodded, his own grin preventing him from responding.

Roman slammed into Janus, kissing him greedily. He wrapped his arms around Janus’s waist and spun them in circles, lifting Janus into the air with his enthusiasm, breaking the kiss and filling the nighttime air with the combined shrieks of their euphoria.

“Finally!” Remus’s high-pitched whoop pierced the air as the observing bystanders applauded.

Roman set Janus down and they quickly placed the rings on each other’s fingers. Janus could hardly see through his tears no matter how quickly he wiped them away, yet he could not tear his eyes from the ring now adorning his finger. He let Roman guide them back to their gaggle of friends, who were all shouting happy congratulations.

“Ohmigosh, it was so hard not giving it away! A double proposal!” Patton squealed.

“You knew?” Roman asked, incredulous.

“Remus informed us of both your plans to propose when he invited us to tonight’s show last week,” Logan clarified, giving them a small smile and a nod.

“Yeah, and it was a bitch getting D.W. to let you go so early, so, y’know, you’re welcome. I only have so much say against the PSM as a lowly wardrobe tech, no matter how awesome I am.”

“And Remus and I knew four months ago, because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut,” Virgil concluded.

“JanJan and RoBro never figured it out, so I say I kept it pretty well shut,” Remus countered.

“Four months ago?” Janus gaped.

“Yep,” Virgil said, popping the ‘p’. “You two made the exact same plans at the exact same time because of course you did, you dorks.”

Janus turned to meet Roman’s eyes. They shone like copper, rich and warm and bright, lingering in his vision as he drew closer for another kiss.

#sanders sides #oneshot #my fics #janus sanders #roman sanders #shipping #roceit #marriage proposal #tooth rotting fluff #established relationship #i was possessed by the thought of 'roceit surprise double proposal'#i was about to send it as a request prompt to someone else but then i realized #i am a fic writer too #i can make this a reality

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #336

"get back, you’re never gonna leave him / get back, you’re always gonna please him”

What were your favorite things to draw when you were a lil kid? When I was a very little kid, idk. But once I got into meerkats... I drew them like crazy. Do you think there is something with or around you, like a spirit, angel, ghost or something else? How does this make you feel? No. Imagine you’re a stranger looking at yourself. What things would immediately catch your eye? Ugh, let's not. When did you feel the most confident in your life? Probably my senior year of high school. I was happy with Jason with plans for the future together, I was doing excellently in school... I thought I was really going to go somewhere. Do you think love is needed to have good sex? For some people, no. For me, loving one another is an absolute must. Do you think, or want to, die in the city you currently live in? Fuuuuuuuck no, I hate it here. What is the strangest thing you have ever encountered? Probably when I was otw home from my doctor appointment and we passed a random guy in drag walking on the side of the street... That guy is an icon. Favourite soft drink? It's really strawberry Sunkist, but I love it to a degree I don't even allow myself to drink it, because I will fucking destroy that shit so quick. So I tend to just say Mountain Dew Voltage is my fave. What do you like to put gravy on? I hate gravy, period. Have you ever gone canoeing/kayaking? No, but it sounds fun. What is one thing you know about your family history you’re proud of? Uhhhh idk. Who depends on you the most? My snake. Are you related to anyone famous or historical, if so who? Yes; William Clark and Queen Victoria or Queen Elizabeth, idr which. Would you ever donate a kidney to anyone, and who? Mom. She only has one kidney, so, y'know. She kinda needs at least one. I wouldn't even hesitate. What is the main quality you think makes a great parent? Unconditional love. What three things do you think of most of each day? My weight is #1. Every second of every day, it, as well as Jason, are somewhere towards the front of my mind. The final is financial and job-oriented stuff. Does/did your high school have pop machines? It did. Do you know anyone who’s won the lottery? No. Have you ever slept in a water bed? Yeah. How often do you use Flickr? I pretty much abandoned my account; nowadays I only occasional check my friend's profile who works at the Kalahari Meerkat Project because she uploads wonderful pictures of the 'kats as well as gives interesting info about them! Who is the last child that you took a photo with? Mom took a picture of me holding my youngest niece Emerson because it surprised everyone; I NEVER hold babies. She crawled over to me and reached up though, so of course I was going to pick her up. How often do you wear hats? Never. Would you ever get a nature tattoo? Sure! Idk what, but I'm rather sure I'll get at leaast one. Is anyone in your family sick at the moment? No. Where do your siblings work, if anywhere? My older sister is a mammographer, and my younger sis is a social worker. Where is your favorite place to buy groceries? Wal-Mart, I guess. Who do you generally talk to the most? My mom. Is anyone saved in your phone under a nickname? Mom is "Mama Bear," and then my siblings are "Little Sister" and "Big Sister." Whose birthday is coming up? My lil sister has her birthday in April. Have you ever ordered from an informercial? No. When, where, and why did a needle last pierce your skin? I needed to get blood drawn for some testing. It was drawn from my inner elbow, obviously at the doctor. Have you been to an escape room? Was it a success? I never have, but it'd be fun. I enjoy puzzles. How many followers do you have on Instagram? I don't feel like checking. What’s the most recent music video you watched? Thoughts? "Mutter" by Rammstein. I picked a screenshot from it to draw, so I rewatched it to select one. It's a beautiful video, but also strange, which Rammstein is great at. Have you ever recorded a cover of a song? No. What makeup products are your go-tos? If I wear makeup, the bare minimum is black eyeliner. Are you going to school this year? No. I gave college as many shots as I could handle both sanity-wise and with finances in mind. I do NOT want to even ATTEMPT to imagine the debt I have after going to three different colleges and dropping out each time. What is your favorite water activity? I enjoy just kinda swimming around aimlessly, relaxing. What are your favorite video games? Okay, I talk about SH2 and SotC enough on questions like this, so I'll mention some others I really enjoy as well: the Silent Hill franchise in general, Spyro games, The Last Guardian, both The Evil Withins, The Last of Us, some Resident Evil games (the 4th in particular), etc. etc. I just love video games. Do you like jello? I enjoy the flavor, but the texture makes me squirm. When was the last time you gave someone "the finger?" Probably while riding in the car with Mom when a dumb motherfucker swerved into our lane. Or something like that, idr the exact occasion. Have you ever held a snake? Yesssss, I want to hold all the snakes. ;_; Most unique place you’ve ever been to? Uh. I guess maybe the Whirligig Park/"Acid Park" nearby us? It's just this large expanse of unique architecture that are mostly, as you guessed it, extravagant whirligigs. You've got to see it if you come to the town. I have some pictures on my deviantART if you wanna see a few pieces. If you were a superhero, what color would your cape be? NO CAPES! Have you ever slept out on your porch all night? Oh fuck no. I'd feel way, way too unsafe. Do you like horror movies? Yeah! What’s your favorite Coke product? Just normal Coke. Watergun or water-balloon war? Watergun. I don't like being hit with stuff. Do you know anyone that’s afraid of elevators? I kind of am. Is there anything in your room that belongs to a boyfriend, or a friend of the opposite sex? I have three plushies from Jason, Tyler, and Girt. My Marilyn Manson poster is also from Juan. Who’s your favorite Beatle? I don't know; I was never a big fan, so I don't know any of them as people well at all. Have you ever texted an ex whilst drunk? How’d that go? I've never been drunk, but no, I've never texted an ex because I was drinking. Do you have to stand on your tip-toes to kiss your boyfriend? I don't have one. The only instance where I had to do that was with Girt. Tall motherfucker. Have you ever been tackle-hugged? Yes. Those are the best. Have you ever rejected someone’s kiss before? Girt once tried to make out with me and I noped the fuck outta that situation. It was so fucking awkward. Is your mood or the overall tone of your day often affected by the dreams you had the night before? My nightmares definitely can. Do you think that there are any positive aspects or outcomes of suffering from a mental illness? If you have a mental illness, do you think it has changed you for the better in any way? I definitely believe my mental illnesses forced me to mature faster and also instilled a great sense of empathy in me. And don't forget emotional endurance. What is your opinion on celebrity culture and celebrity worship? Have you ever been guilty of putting a celebrity on a pedestal? Do you think it’s somehow more acceptable/understandable to obsess over certain types of celebrities (musicians over YouTubers, say) than others? At what point do you think an obsession like that crosses the line? It's dangerous and can be very blinding. An outsider could say I put Mark on a pedestal, but I've always been very aware that he's not perfect and really just another human, I just happen to love him a lot for the human he is, haha. As time's passed, my vision of him has become healthier though (not to say it ever reached the "unhealthy" threshold); it's gotten easier for me to judge him and stuff like that. I think an obsession crosses the line when you put on rose-tinted glasses to look upon someone and entirely ignore their flaws, or if you try to invade their personal lives, ex. being one of those creeps that loiter outside their houses and stuff. If you were to pursue a career in photography and had the opportunity and means to photograph whatever you wanted, what would most like to photograph? Ah, livin' the dream. If I had to choice and would be paid well regardless of focus, I would absolutely travel and photograph the local nature/wildlife. Is there a certain type of clothing (outerwear, activewear, loungewear, etc.) that you enjoy shopping for more than others? Shirts, 100%. Are you ever afraid to post your ideas, artwork, photography, etc. online for fear that they will get stolen or not credited? When it comes to OCs, yes, given that things have been stolen from me before. Photography doesn't worry me much because I don't think I'm good enough for someone to possibly want to steal it (and besides, I use a watermark), and I do the same for drawings. It's the unique characters I make I worry about being stolen if I share them. When is the last time you did something sexual? A few years back. Who is the last person you showered with, if anyone? I haven't showered with someone since I was a little kid and my younger sister and I would to conserve water. What do you think when you see roadkill on the side of the road? It really makes me genuinely sad, and I always wonder if it could have been avoided if the driver was more alert, slower, and thinking about more than the damage it could cause to their car... I enjoy photographing roadkill, brutal as it may be, out of respect for them and the desire to make their individual stories known and just kind of like, raise awareness of it. Too many people are just annoyed by hitting an animal versus more concerned. "Stupid deer," stuff like that. I sometimes worry that doing so can be interpreted as disrespect, to photograph and publish pictures of their corpses online, but I sure hope not. It's the least of my intentions. I just want people to see and care. Have you ever had an ex that just didn’t understand that it was over? Biiiitch I was that ex, 120%. But besides my situation with Jason, this was how Tyler was. I had to tell him about five thousand times to stop texting me. Are your fingernails currently short or long? They're always pretty short. Would you rather have big or small dogs? I like medium-sized dogs most. I'd have to pick large dogs between the two, though. What is your favorite sports drink? I'm not a fan of sports drinks. What was the last compliment you gave a guy? Yesterday, a guy in PHP shared two poems he wrote while hospitalized, and they were wonderful, so full of passion and emotion. I sure as hell told him they were amazing. He's going for his Master's for poetry, so he knows what he's doing for real. Does your jaw ever crack, pop, or lock? It's popped on very, very few occasions. Have you ever thought of how you would give your kids “the talk”? I don't want kids, so no, I've never thought of this. I certainly wouldn't wait for sex ed in school, though. I feel like it's a bit late. I feel children need to know what it's about at a younger age with how disgusting some people are... I want them to be informed on what consent and molestation are so they know to let Mama know so I can punch someone's face into a whole new galaxy if they're ever violated. Do you ever feel like you’re missing out on something? Oh, always. Do you ever write/draw on windows that are fogged up? I did as a kid, sure. Not so much now. If you were married, and your spouse’s parents became ill, would you let them move into your home? If they were truly sick enough to need assistance but not actual hospitalization, yes. I'd want my spouse to do the same for me. Have you screamed in a pillow before? Yyyyep. What do you like more, acoustic or electric? Electric. Did you actually have a cookie jar? We have a Santa one, though I don't even know if we ever used it versus just having it as a decoration. What’s worse, having someone mad or disappointed in you? Disappointed. What do you bite on more, your tongue, lip, or nails? Bottom lip. Do you think that knowing when and how you’re going to die would ruin your life? "Ruin" it seems a bit extreme, but I definitely wouldn't like it. Do you have a favorite bromance? From TV or a movie. Not really, if we're only talking those two options. Do you find flea markets and thrift stores enjoyable? Yeah, you really can find the coolest shit for great prices. What color is your wallet? Mostly red and white; it's a Harley Quinn design. Have you ever been somebody's photography subject? No. Nicki Minaj fan? I believe she's a very talented rapper, but I don't enjoy her actual music. I just don't like rap. Have you ever seen the Niagara Falls? No, I wish tho.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''angel with the scabbed wings'' by marilyn manson

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oh-mother-of-darkness · 4 years

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hello this isnt abt batfam or batman but i saw your age and was wondering how do i survive till 23? i am 18 now and 5 more years is very hard to survive please help

Interesting question. I turn 24 in ten days, and sometimes even I’m not sure. I guess I’ll talk about how I personally stayed alive this long before I try to give advice.

The very first thing I would say is that I am religious, and that worldview makes a difference. I don’t mean that in a “everything happens for a reason” kind of way, and as a matter of fact, I very much dislike that line of thinking. It does a lot of damage, and I’m aware that it rightly puts a lot of people off from religion in general.

I hold two beliefs that I think are helpful in terms of survival. First, I believe that humans are by nature bad. Counterintuitive in this conversation? Stick with me. Every day, but especially at my lowest moments, I hate the things that I am. In a metaphorical sense, my mind whispers to me that I am selfish, that I am cowardly, that I think bad things and I am capable of worse. I’m hateful, I’m terrifying, and I am absolutely broken. At my core, there is something fundamentally wrong, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t fix it.

I am disgusting. I’m several thousand evil things in a trench-coat pretending to be anything but myself, and I’m not fooling anyone.

Well, yeah. Yeah, I’m all those things and more: manipulative, lying, self-obsessed, angry, unforgiving, and judgmental. I could, of course, go on.

Here’s the thing-- everybody is. I am no better and no worse than any other person in the universe, and though I am ever abhorrent thing, I am. I have the same dignity, the same worth, and the same life as any human anywhere. The dark things are part and parcel of my humanity, but although I am not good, I do good.

I will never be perfect because that just isn’t possible, but I can be kind. I can be loving, I can be strong, and I can be wise.

Shit, doesn’t that set me free?

There’s a lot more to this conversation, and the rest goes, in brief, like this: at the bottom of the darkness that is every soul, we have one great fear-- if I am truly evil, no one will ever love me. Good news on that front, there is a God who does. If that’s something you want to talk about, hey hit me up. I’ll evangelize on my own time.

Back to it. My second belief is a kind of understanding about the passage of time, and it’s sort of hard to boil down into a few sentences, but I’ll try my best. I believe in a grand struggle between good and evil. I know the beginning of that struggle. I know the end of that struggle: that good will win. I am a part of the middle.

I see my role in the universe as extraordinary small but absolutely necessary. I have a two-fold purpose-- love God, love humans. I interpret both as a call to help others in any way I can, and I think in the way my life has worked out so far, that’s really the most important thing keeping me alive.

I see all of this through the frame of my religion, but I would argue that everything I’ve said so far is applicable outside of that frame, because a lot of folks get to the same place from a fully secular point of view. I cannot be perfect. I should care about and fight for other people. That’s really all we’re working from here.

A few years back, when people asked me this question-- how do you stay alive?-- I used to answer “spite,” and that’s not untrue. I am a very angry person, and the grand majority of that anger is directed at what I perceive as unjust acts. I have a deep-seated hatred of establishments (including the established church), and you’d be shocked at how much of a motivator that can be.

I grew up in an environment that was very intentional in teaching me to identify injustice. Though I have radically departed from many of the teachings of my childhood, the part about fighting for others was something I learned at day one, and that bit has stuck around. For the most part, I grew up in an environment where everyone was on the same page about it.

And theeeeeeen I went to undergrad. Hello, Texas A&M. I hit campus as an 18 year old fully incapacitated by anxiety. I was the kind of person who didn’t-- in fact couldn’t-- speak in front of others. I had always lived my life in a way that minimized myself, because if I never spoke, if I never disagreed, if I never drew attention, I would never make anyone angry. I knew from experience that angry people hurt me, and I was afraid of pain.

Then I experienced the absolute shenaniganry of conservative Texans. The culture shock sent me to space and back, and on the return trip I decided that I couldn’t be quiet anymore.

I learned to speak my freshman year so that I could scream FUCK YOU. It was incredibly painful, and I can’t tell you exactly how I managed it other than I was angry, and I didn’t want to lose.

I fought a similar battle on my homefront against parents that didn’t know how to deal with a daughter that disagreed, or even worse, a daughter that wasn’t okay. I wasn’t a perfect child anymore. I knew I had anxiety, I knew I was depressed, and we all knew who I blamed for that. They hadn’t been the perfect parents they thought they were.

I found myself growing, little by little, into a person that could write and argue and hold her ground. That’s personal growth for sure, but it didn’t necessarily help my mental health. As a matter of fact, my health declined all through undergrad, and in my third and final year, I cracked.

I was desperate. I was isolated. I was flooded by fear and despair, and I was falling apart. I don’t remember huge chunks of undergrad because I was so depressed that the memories didn’t stick, but I do remember my tipping point.

It was something small. The ceiling fan in my bedroom was broken. The lighting chain worked fine, but if anyone pulled the fan chain, the whole thing would stop working. I mixed up which chain was which, pulled the wrong cord, and broke it for the fourth time.

For some reason, that was it. I lay down on my floor and cried for an hour, and while I did, my mind went to, as the kids say, a dark place. Finally, I called my mom and begged for psychiatric medication, something I had always been afraid to ask for. At the time, my parents believed that antidepressants were overprescribed, and they mocked parents that let their children take them.

At around the same time, I was deciding what to do with my life. I was about to graduate, and I had always wanted to be a kindergarten teacher. Instead, everyone in my life pushed me towards law school. I didn’t know what to do, but I began fantasizing, not about going to law school exactly, but about being the kind of person that could go to law school.

I knew that law school would be entail public speaking and constant conflict and the kind of work that would be hard for a person who sometimes couldn’t leave her bed. I wanted to be someone who could do all of that, but I didn’t believe I was.

Enter Donald Trump. Post-November 2016, I struggled to understand how something like that could happen, and I watched everyone else deal with it too. I began confused, moved to distraught, then returned to what I always am: angry.

January 2017 was the inauguration and shortly afterwards, the “Muslim ban.” I read the news on my bedroom floor, and there was one specific part that stuck out to me. There were pictures of lawyers flooding the airports. There was a court case headed for SCOTUS.

I suddenly realized that one group-- one very select group-- was doing what I was powerless to accomplish. I hated establishments, and there was one group that could challenge and change them. Some people could fight in the way I wanted to, and those people were lawyers.

I have a very distinct memory of looking into the bathroom mirror of my third-year apartment and thinking, “I will be miserable for the rest of my life, no matter what I do or what career I pick. I might as well be a miserable lawyer.”

So I took my antidepressants and I went to law school. I’m not going to rehash everything that happened there in this particular post, because in this topic, I don’t think it matters. The relevant part is that I went, and I had my reason why.

Sure as hell can tell you that law school wasn’t good for my health. The last three years have been, in terms of sheer stress and despair, the worst of my life. I picked up a self-harm habit, endured consistent humiliation, cycled through six different antidepressants, had horrible relationships, and developed a psychotic disorder. Don’t get me wrong, there were good things too. I met people that are important me, and beyond that, I grew.

I know that 18 year old me would be absolutely flabbergasted by the woman I am now, cracks and flaws included. I wouldn’t say I’m healthy or okay, but I am more healthy and more okay. I’m coming out of this mess with the institutional power I wanted, and now I get to decide what to do with it.

I was wrong three years ago when I looked in that bathroom mirror. I know now that I won’t be miserable for the rest of my life. I’m going to be happy someday, and to the parts of me that say otherwise: fuck you. I’ve learned to say it now.

I graduated law school this week, and this month, I’ve felt better than I ever have before. I’m singing again, I dropped two medications, and suddenly, everything is so, so funny. I’ve been laughing so hard my face hurts the day after.

This is a huge turning point in my life, so I’ve been meditating on my past. I’ve come to the conclusion that in most of the ways that matter, I won. My family has been forced to accept what I am. I became the person I wanted to be, even though I thought I wasn’t capable of that.

I know for sure that there will be times in my life where I hit rock bottom again, and that’s not gonna be fun. It’s likely that with my mental health issues, I will always have to work harder than my peers to get the same results. That’s unfair.

I also know that high points exist, and I will have them. I am having them, and I will again.

I guess in recap, I know that I have deep flaws and ugly parts, but I am at peace with that. I know that I must help others, and in pursuit of that goal, I became a person I like more than the girl I used to be.

You have exactly the same potential. I want you to know that whatever you are now, that’s not your forever. Circumstances change, and you will change too. We’re human, you and I, and that’s an exciting thing to be.

Your worth comes from your humanity itself, both evil and good, not the things you do or the fights you win. You never have to compare yourself to others because you are exactly the same as everybody else-- no better, but certainly no worse. You’re a person. That’s enough.

I’m telling you all those things, and as advice, I’ll say this: get angry and fight. Fight for others. You can help them, and you should. Fight for yourself. You are worthy of respect, and everyone else should give it to you. Fight yourself. Any part of you that preaches despair is wrong.

Find the thing that makes you angry and use it. Things are fucked up! There’s a lot to be angry about. I put it this way to my classmates, now my attorney peers: you get one hill to die on. What’s your hill? Go and defend it.

Here’s an interesting thing, anon. Your hill can be yourself. There’s nothing wrong with that. You’re right. Five years is a lot, and all the years beyond that are more. Take your antidepressants and go.

#anyway here's a fucking autobiography I guess #let's see what to tag what to tag #religion #christianity #suicide #suicidal thoughts #suicidal ideation #asks #personal i guess #wait I thought of more #self harm #american politics #if the read more on this post doesn't work again I'm rioting #been having that glitch lately

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animechick2015 · 4 years

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My Hero Academia- My Unwanted, Long Ass Ramble That Absolutely No One Asked For......

So being at home 🏡 due to mostly COVID-19 and a crumbling economy, I decided to rewatch all of my favorite animes, from Bungou Stray Dogs, Inuyasha, Demon Slayer, Fairy Tail and finally My Hero Academia. Once again I was entranced by the bright colors, spectacular animation and lovable characters that Kōhei Horikoshi-Sensei created. But coming to the end of the recent Season 4 a revelation came to me: I just don’t like Deku as the main character 😱.

I know. I know. I must be certifiably insane not to love such a cinnamon roll, with his cute freckles, messy green hair and 1,000,000 megawatt smile. But it’s true. I have no interest with him as the main character. After this new discovery I decided to think why I didn’t like him and the reason was simple: he’s predictable or rather his story is.

From the on set we were told that he’s going to be the greatest hero ever. Every arc that he’s been in he comes out on top with a new increase usage of his power. After finishing Eri’s arc I was just like ‘huh, is it going to be more seasons of this?’ Now for those of you thinking well you just watched the anime, you should read the manga.....I read it religiously every week. It doesn’t matter where I am or what I’m doing you can bet I’ll drop everything I’m doing just to read and re-read that chapter; find myself on tumblr and read all the fan theories and musings about said chapter. So i know what’s going on in the manga and once again I just like meh he’s going to be on top anyways why should I bother getting invested 🤷🏽‍♀️

Dammit Deku don’t look at me like that 🥺.

I still love him and I am proud of how far he’s come but I just can’t find it in myself to get hyped up for him.

So who do I get hyped up for? Well I’m glad you asked ( I know you didn’t but here it is anyway hehe)

Bakugo Katsuki

The gremlin of Class 1-A. King Explosion Murder. Future Number 1 Hero (I wish). Before anyone can finish asking who my favorite character is in MHA I’ll blurt this angry boi’s name. There’s just something about that drew me in from the very first episode/chapter. Yes he was a JERK, bully and ok he was an absolute asshole to Deku but there was something that kept me thinking I want to see more of this asshole. In the beginning, I thought he was going to be another Sasuke type character: join an evil group at the first chance, battle the main character throughout and eventually find his way back to being good and I was like meh. But then the Sports Festival arc happened and I was oh, this boy’s got potential so I took off my Naruto googles and started to really looking at him. If I’m honest, the first time I saw him as a hero was during his fight with Uraraka. I got so hyped during that match that I was standing and cheering, tears in my eyes for the both of them! When the spectators started to complain about Bakugou being too rough with Uraraka I was about to throw hands with fictional characters. Then when Aizawa gave his speech about Bakugo giving his all and respecting Uraraka and I was sold.

Since then I’ve been an avid supporter of his. During the Kamino arc I was worried but also impressed that he was able to go up again members of the League of Villains and was smart enough to realize that he was holding All Might back from going all out again AFO. His fight with Deku was emotional and I was a sobbing mess. Him going through the Hero License arc with all that guilt showed me his determination to being a hero. Even though he wants to portray that he doesn’t care about anyone but himself, he shows time and time again that he cares about Kirishima, Kaminari and Sero. He’s observant with Todoroki and Endevour during the Support Courses. He pushes Deku. He has so many layers as a character that I want to know more about him. Do I think that maybe he should’ve been the main character, yes I do. But I’m ok with him being a support character as well. I can’t wait to learn more about him and to see him be the amazing hero I know he’ll be.

Uraraka Ochako

Ok this girl right here 👆that’s my sunshine girl and no one is allowed to mess with her. Got it?? Seriously, I love this girl. She radiates warmth, hugs and pure unadulterated happiness. Just something about her face just makes me happy and I just wanna squish her round cheeks. Ok ok I’ll stop.

But seriously she is such an underrated character. I know for a fact she gets a lot of unnecessary hate because one: for being Deku’s love interest (I’m not really invested in their relationship tbh but if it happens I’ll be cool with it) and two: her reason for being a hero is to make money. Funnily enough the reason why she’s most hated by fans is the reason why I love her so much. She’s a young girl from a poor family who just wants to make her parents happy and I relate to that so much it made me want to cry when I first learned of her reasoning. Out of all the characters in the MHA world I connected with her the most. In addition, what I admired about her is that yes, she does have feelings for Deku but she’s able to put them aside and follow her goals. Like damn it who wouldn’t admire that? Who can’t relate to pushing their feelings aside to accomplish their goals? I seriously love this girl. Also, I love that she doesn’t limit hereself. When she started U.A. she wanted to be a support hero because of her quirk but after her fight with Bakugo she saw the potential to be more and she took it, trained and made herself better. She really is an inspiration. I hope we get to see more of her in action and maybe even lead a fight instead of being support. I can’t wait to see her grow and blossom into a badass ass woman who kick your ass while looking like an angel sent from above.

Shigaraki Tomura

Finally, this crusty boi gets me so hyped whenever he’s on screen or in a manga chapter that it’s probably unhealthy. From the very first time I saw him at that bar with those creepy ass hands covering his body I was intrigued to say the least. Every time I see him, I’m silently (not really) begging Horikoshi-Sensei to give me more of him. There was just something about him that screams more.

Fast forward to the Villain arc (one of my favorites tbh) and we learn more about his history and what he had to endure and dammit I just wanted to hug him. It’s so easy to hate the bad guys for hurting people but do we stop to think about who hurt them? And my boy was hurt a lot.....from his family (the ones who were supposed to protect him), the heroes (whose literal JOB IS TO PROTECT PEOPLE!), AFO (don’t get me started on that creepy bastard). And then suddenly I was supporting the villain. A part of me wants Shigaraki to succeed because if he does the hero society will admit their many flaws and idk maybe get rid of the hero vs villain Society that caused problems for generations 🤷🏽‍♀️ just a thought. Honestly if Shigaraki was the main character of this story I think it would’ve been much more interesting. I would definitely like to see more of him and I really want him to shake the hero society to the core.

So there it is.... my unwanted, unnecessary (if we’re being honest here) ramble about MHA. What started as a post about not liking Deku as the MC turned into......this. I’m sorry 😭. But once again I’m not hating on Deku. I love my little broccoli boi and I’ll be supporting him until the time he does indeed become Number One (maybe I’ll get myself a pair of red sneakers to match Deku’s before that happens), but there’s so many more characters that hold my interest other than him. I wish I could’ve listed them all but frankly I’m tired and hungry and I need to take a shot of something after this week’s chapter because Oh My God!!

Anyways, if anyone made it this far down my post, thank you for reading, please don’t be mean and have a great week!

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #deku #bnha uraraka #urakara ochako #bakugou katsuki #king explosion murder #shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #my ramblings #please dont bully me #my thoughts #long ass post #sorry lmao

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thesimonkshow · 4 years

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My thoughts on Folklore

This is about to be a long ass Taylor Swift post, so strap in for the ride.

I along with many others were going about their business (looking at Adam Driver gifs) before my phone alerted me to the notification that Taylor Swift was releasing her eighth studio album Folklore the very next day. Chaos everywhere, my sleep schedule went out the window as I went into the Swifties tag to see how everyone else was dealing with this news. So I eagerly awaited 2PM (Australian time) for the album to drop and after a few listens (sleep got the better of me through my first listen due to my previous sleep schedule), I eventually picked out some album highlights.

The 1 - I love how freely she’s cussing on the album (a point that will be reitriated throughout), and I know Gossip tabloids and casuals will be shooketh because they’d think Taylor & Mr. Alwyn have ‘broken up’ due to Taylor’s personable lyrics but this gave me Better Man vibes. Remember when the Bridge said ‘You might have bern The One if you were a Better Man’ and this is basically that without the angsty fire.

Cardigan - I LOVE how Alternative Folk fits Taylor’s voice, it sounds like she’s telling us a story and we are entrapsed by her. It also works perfectly with the love triangle songs, which I had to understand a bit through a few listens.

The Last Great American Dynasty - The moment I saw this track, I knew it would be epic. I pictured her taking the piss out of the Trump family, but what I got was an awesome song about the woman who owned Taylor’s Rhode Island house and the antics she got up to. I love the descriptors she used when describing the weddings and the party’s Rebekah & Bill had and especially the bridge of antics Rebekah got up to later in her time. The ‘And then it was bought by me.’ Part of the bridge, I love a good twist!

Exile - OH MY LORD. When I saw Skinny Love Bon Iver on this album, I knew this would be something and low and behold it was. The concept of the man in exile in her intro caught my attention but seeing it up close and personal was amazing. The vocals interlaced with each other was perfection, especially as Taylor responds to Bon Iver. I really connected it to the struggles of Seth Rollins in the latter half of 2019, how he seemed to be exiled from the WWE, how his initial opponent Kevin Owens was having his flaws disregarded to drag Seth down, the ‘Always Keep Fighting’ shirt that he wore (raising money for mental health chairties) adding insult to injury for Seth, who had even briefly deactivated his twitter to clear his headspace following attacks/death threats from a fellow wrestler’s fan base. ‘I gave you every sign’ rings true here, the man was struggling and no one seemed to care.

My Tears Ricochet - My WWE ass was happy to see another Wrestler reference after The Man. So this was an interesting look, but I got another story that intrigued me, a man having been involved in a tumultous connection with the songs narrator showing up to her funeral to save face. Listeners drew parraells with the recent Masters drbarkle with Scott Borchetta, head of Big Machine Records with whom Taylor was once signed to, and I have to say it’s a good perspective to take.

Mirrorball - This one took a while but I ended up loving the fact she could sing from a Mirrorball’s perspective and still make an epic song. I loved the part about always fitting in with the crowd because at functions/discos where mirrorballs are used, the lights will change to fit the mood and being a reflective surface, Mirrorballs will reflect the colour change.

Seven - This was a nice ditty about a past friend Taylor once had. I really loved the line ‘Please picture me in the weeds before I learned Civility’ it gives a more sophisticated parraell to Never Grow Up.

August - This is the second in the love triangle songs, and I loved the storytelling aspect as Taylor paints the picture of an affair that Summer Nights would quake in it’s boots if it heard about it. She sweeps up the adience in the Mistresses POV, showcasing the sweetness of love and the sting of toxcisity.

This is me trying - Where are those who said Taylor Swift plays the victim in her songs? Because this is for them. Taylor states in this her regrets of wasted potential, broken relationships etc. at the end of the day no matter how many awards she has, records she breaks, or money she possesses, Taylor Alison Swift is a human being, and we should give her boundries to grow and flourish.

Illicit Affairs - This track title also intrigued me, and whilst it does what the title says, and discusses the highs and lows of the secret passions of mismatched lovers, the second verse & bridge stood out to me the most. The way Taylor’s voice went up on him in the line ‘Leave the perfume on the shelf that you picked out just for him.’ Drew my attention as she later did the same thing on the word high, this had to mean something. And given that we don’t know the narrators gender, this could also be a song about a closeted gay man who’s found love but is struggling to accept this relationship. Whereas the bridge reminded me a lot of the Adam & Hannah breakup in Season 4 of Girls in the episode Sit In where Hannah denounces Adam’s nickname of kid, which he had called her by since the first season, with the episode before that showing her heartbroken that Adam has gotten a new girlfriend behind her back and thus turns into a mess locked in her apartment for a day and two nights. it was a heartbreaking part of the show, one that shifted it into a new era for better or for worse, and the entirety of this reasonated with me.

Invisible String - Around this point was where melotonin kicked in for me on my first listen, so I’ve heard this less than the other songs, but I love how it discusses her relationship with Joe & how for better or for worse, he is hers. It continued the theme with them on Lover of not having a great picturesque love, but having ups and downs like any couple.

Mad Woman - The calmer sister of The Man, she won’t throw big production and actions around, she can take you down with words alone. The track stings brutally as Taylor takes down sexism as it exists in our world today, and even sadly paints a visual of how it must have been for women back in the day fighting for equal rights. ‘Does a scorpion sting when fighging back?’ Line was annother connection, as I was reminded of Vanessa Ives from Penny Dreadful and how the animal symbology that stuck with her was a scorpion, used to great effect in the Season 2 finale in a confrontation with Lucifer’s makeshift doll of her. The chorus line ‘And you’ll poke the bear till her claws come out, and you’ll find something to wrap your noose around’ stuck with me on my listens, and really shows how men will strike and then run away saying ‘it’s a joke, she’s hysterical’ etc. the part about women loving to hunt witches also reminded me of a Doctor Who episode called ‘The Witchers’ and also reminded some listeners of how Demi Lovato took Scooter Braun’s side in the Licencing debarkle, in fact in the first part of the bridge, the song also has a double meaning. It’s also about the state of affairs following Taylor’s songs being stolen from her. The part in the bridge about the wives knowing about their Spinster husbands having affairs and not wanting to show their anger for fear of being outcast like the titular woman is angsty but so lyrically genius.

Epiphany - I had to listen to this a couple of times but once I realised what it was about, I was in shock. This is about her Grandfather Dean who she mentioned in the intro who fought in a war. The song paints the war setting with the helmet, the flesh wound and the rifle within the first few words, and I especially loved the line ‘And some things we don’t speak of.’ because it talked about how some soldiers develop PTSD from their experiences, yet don’t want to discuss them for fear of being perceived as weak. Also the outro beat sounds like a radar scanning for a plane, and the beat of the drum sounds like bombs exploding, really adds to the War theme.

Betty - This is the final track in the love triangle story as it tells the story of James as he fights to earn back Betty’s love after he has an affair with Inez. The eventual pitfalls of Illicit Affairs have come for Inez which causes her to tell Betty of their affair, which is a nice link. This songs gives a classic Greese/Christine/Cheesy 80s Film meets Trixie Mattel vibe which I loved. I also loved the callbacks to August & Cardigan, along with the casual F bomb droppings.

Peace - This is another sweet love song for Joe which calls back to Cruel Summer, Cornelia Street & Dancing With Our Hands Tied as Taylor struggles with the connection she has established with Joe, and contemplates escaping, but eventually knows she’ll stay. How the entire world will be on them, but she’ll be by his side through it all. Similar to Invisible String but different all at once and a perfect penultimate track to lead to the last song.

Hoax - The sweetness brings us to the double edged sword of a closing track. Giving a shattering realisation that love can be tricky at times, the references to Call It What You Want ‘I am ash from your fire’, The Archer ‘You know the hero died so what’s the movie for?’ & ... So It Goes ‘You knew you won so what’s the point of keeping score’. Taylor loves Joe so much that when they fight it’s as painful as when she became Pop Culture Enemy #1 back in 2016. But no matter what, she says herself ‘Don’t want no other shade of blue but you. No other sadness in this world would do’ relationships are always painful, there is no happy endings all round, but there is still love to be found.

All in all this is an incredible album & @taylorswift you have created magic and I hope you know that myself & all the Swifties are so proud of you for flexing your writing skill and crafting such a stunning album.

#Taylor Swift #folklore #TS8 #Surprise Album #Taylurking #Bon Iver #Seth Rollins #Monday Night Messiah #WWE #Doctor Who #GirlsHBO

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