#it was honestly a struggle to make it this long

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Would I be the asshole if I refused to pay my phone bill?

📱🧾♿️ <- To recognize my post for later :)

The title is probably already a bit of a red flag, but I genuinely didn’t know how else to word it…

For context: I am a disabled, chronically and mentally ill trans guy who recently turned 20. I haven’t left home yet for a lot of reasons, some being that my parents promised to let me live rent-free so long as I was in college (which I am, just not currently for the summer) as well as the fact that they really haven’t raised me to be very independent and rely solely on them (which is honestly a whole other can of worms), but primarily because of my disability. It isn’t safe for me to live on my own, as I faint commonly, cannot stand up for more than maybe fifteen minutes at a time roughly, and sometimes am unable to eat for long periods of time due to debilitating nausea which leads to weakness. I also have severe chronic pain in my limbs and gut, something I’ve had most of my life, while my chronic illness I’ve only had for about a year and a half now and am still struggling to adjust to.

Because of my disability, I also can’t work a traditional job. I offer art commissions online, because I’m very passionate about art and it’s one of the few things I’m good at, and I haul in a decent amount, but certainly not enough to live off of. I make enough to set aside some good savings (I’m currently saving for a wheelchair, as that might grant me more freedom and the potential to get a job at least for the summer) while also indulging myself in buying the occasional fatty treat (I’m very underweight so that’s not an issue, and I was raised essentially in an almond mom household all my life, so this form of eating is really the only sense of control I have over my life, as I’m fully dependent on my parents elsewise).

The issue has come upon relatively recently. I feel like a huge entitled brat for it as well, and if others believe the same, I sincerely don’t blame you.

My mom sat me down the other day and said that she expected me to start paying at least one bill. She offered my cheapest bill (which would be for my phone; my parents bought it, and it’s theirs, they’re just letting me use it as my own.. I don’t own a whole lot of “my” items myself) and asked what I thought about that. I was fully honest with her: if I had a steady stream of income, I wouldn’t hesitate to offer to pay for all of my bills, but with the way it stands, I just don’t make enough month-to-month to regularly afford the bill. I also do my commissions through my phone, so if I could afford the bill, my phone would be turned off, and I’d be unable to continue.

My mom got very upset and started talking to me like a child (though she really has every right to, honestly, and I know that). She went on a very long rant about teaching me responsibility, and how I can’t rely on my parents forever, and that I need to grow up at some point… All things that I fully agree with. I sincerely want to! I want nothing more than to be fully independent. But the way it stands, my parents cover my entire medical bills and they pay for my meds… And I just don’t make enough to survive on my own, and I can just barely afford a meal or two from a sandwich shop I enjoy twice a month to keep my sanity in check because I’m usually bedbound.

I tried explaining to her that I would if I could, sincerely, and that I’m not trying to be a leech or lazy, but she wasn’t having it. She just scolded me and said that if I can afford to eat out every month, then I can afford the phone bill. But again, with the way things are, I don’t think I’d be able to do it every month without tapping into my savings, which again, is for my wheelchair so I can regain some sense of freedom for myself. I’m seriously debating just telling her no straight out, but I don’t know what the aftermath might look like…

So, sincerely: Am I in the wrong here? Should I just swallow my protests and cough up the money somehow? I really don’t know and would love an outside perspective.

[homunculus-argument]

Probably dumb question from a trans guy who's struggling with actually physically and socially transitioning. I am a short, skinny, and relatively quiet human, and while I undoubtedly feel myself to be male internally and want my body to reflect that, I feel like nobody would ever take me seriously or find me attractive if I transitioned, or that I don't have what it takes to pass as a man in general due to people relentlessly perceiving me as feminine and female even when I do everything in my power to present otherwise.

I guess I'm just wondering if transitioning is even worth it for me? I'm almost 30, so I've lived as I am a long time, and as much as it makes me miserable and cuts me off from a lot of joy and vitality in life, it's all I know. I *think* I would feel better, have more confidence etc. if people perceived me as who I really feel myself to be, but the thought that there's a lot of people out there who would never accept that, and would rub it in my face that they still see me as something I loathe being seen as, makes me feel pretty hopeless about the whole situation.

No need to answer this if it's too personal a topic or anything, just wanted to run it past you since I admire you quite a bit, and you seem to have a lot of stuff figured out that I'm still working towards.

🐉

You sound pretty confident about it being something you can't be happy without, and honestly, testosterone is a hell of a drug, so even if you won't be astonishingly hot as a guy, you'll still read 100% as male in a couple of years. Look at the before-after pictures and progress timelines of trans men, especially HRT timelines, even the ones who don't end up looking like Kratos from God of War just turn out into completely normal-looking regular guys. There are plenty of short, skinny, and quiet cis men too, and they aren't so rare that normal people meeting you for the first time would start suspecting you to be one of those 1% minority people they've heard about.

I've also had friends who know I'm trans genuinely just forget about it. This one time a friend whom I have known since we were 15 - ten years before I started testosterone - get confused when I mentioned that my gym teacher at the time always wore electric blue mascara. She asked me which teacher was that, and only when I clarified that I was talking about the female gym teacher at my school, did she remember that I was in girls' gym classes. The thought that my school had the most flamboyant drag queen makeup wearing boys' gym teacher felt like a more plausible option than remembering that I was legally classified as a girl in school back when we met.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[2:57 pm]

(cw: f!reader, suggestive, “fucking”)

"How much longer do you need?" Bestfriend!Mark whines from your couch.

You had both planned to go to lunch almost an hour ago, but when you saw his outfit you decided you had to change. Apparently, you were too over dressed and "no, no, no! Don't worry, it won't take long!" Lies!

"I think we already missed the grace period for the reservation, think of somewhere else to eat now," Mark called out.

He could hear you running around, breathing hard, spraying something, and... hopping?

"Mark! You worry too much. I left my phone on the counter, check the email that they sent me I have it flagged," he heard you call out.

He sighed, standing from his comfy spot on the couch to get your phone. The face ID obviously fails so he tries to remember your password.

"My passcode is 8008!" You yell out.

Mark bursts out laughing, "Dude, seriously?"

You come out and look at him with a poorly concealed smile and only one shoe on, which coincidentally doesn't match either shoe in each of your hands, "it's funny!"

"Whatever," he rolls his eyes and watches you leave, not even bothering to hide the way his eyes fluttered as he caught a whiff of your perfume.

He shook his head, refocusing himself while he typed in your passcode. Immediately his eyes went wide at what he saw on the screen.

There was no email pulled up, no games, not instagram, or even tiktok- no! It was your photos app, the photos app with a picture timestamped to an hour and a half ago. A picture with you dressed in the least amount of clothes he'd ever seen you in.

His face flushed, he felt his face get hot and had no doubt he was bright red. He gulped, his eyes trailing over the expanse of skin that was on the screen. Skin that was just barely covered by a lacy black bra and matching panties.

He gulped, eyes taking in the seductive look on your face, the way your hair effortlessly cascaded down like a model in a photo shoot. Shit, who were you taking these pictures for and what did he have to do to get you to send them to him?

“Did you find the email?” You ask stopping in front of him with arched brows.

“Huh? What? Ummmm- yeah, huh?” Mark stuttered, struggling to take his eyes off the screen and when he did he could barely make eye contact. 

Your eyebrows furrowed, eyes trailing down to see what had gotten him so tongue tied. Your eyes widened in shock and embarrassment before you quickly snatched your phone from his hold, “you were not supposed to see that!”

“W-well who was supposed to see it then? You never told me you were seeing anyone? Shit, are they cool with us hanging out just the two of us?”

You swiped all your apps closed, “there isn’t anyone Mark. I was just feeling hot and took pictures because why not? Can you forget you ever saw them?”

“Honestly?” he started, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, “No, I can’t forget. You looked so fucking hot I’m gonna see that every time I close my eyes.”

Now it was your turn to stutter, “what- what? Mark? You can’t just say things like that! We’ve been best friends for years.”

“And I stopped looking at you like you were one of the guys when we turned 12 and I caught a glimpse of the strap of your training bra. I don’t want to hide my feelings for you forever, so can we make this friendly lunch our first date?”

You nodded, biting your lip to suppress the smile that threatened to split your face, “yeah, I’d like that. But hey, we definitely missed the reservation. Sorry about that.”

Mark sighed, taking your hand in his as you both left your apartment, “no you’re not.”

“Yeah... I’m not. I look cute.”

[seresinhangmanjake]

Respect

Feyd-Rautha x female!reader

Summary: Your betrothed is a son from one of the Great Houses, an awful man who has enjoyed threatening and scaring you since you were children. Feyd makes it known he doesn't appreciate such disrespectful treatment of the woman he loves.

Notes/Warnings: SA (mention of past unwanted touching. Not by Feyd). Violence and blood. Implied or mentioned sexual situations. Feyd is soft for reader and reader only. Typos, im sure. I think that's it. Feel free to correct me.

Words: 1900

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

You told him stories of the youngest son of House Kenric. As you lay in Feyd’s arms, you recounted your meetings with your betrothed over the years. The ways he teased you as children, pinching your skin, tugging on your hair, spitting in your face, calling you worthless, stupid, pathetic. Then in the years before coming of age, how he would mock you alongside his brothers. How he would smack you if you defended yourself and force you to tell your father you’d fallen. How he would grope you over your dress when neither your parents nor his were paying attention. But you’d kept one story from him; the most recent of them.

Feyd had met you at a party for a handful of influential Great Houses, and it wasn’t long before he found himself rather attached to you. Over the course of six hours, you’d met, talked, flirted, snuck off, kissed, fell into bed, fucked, and returned to the party with no one the wiser. It was that same night you were able to convince your father of a budding interest in Harkonnen ways, and that if the Houses were aiming for peace and unity, there would be no harm in you spending a few months on Giedi Prime.

At the time, Feyd knew the “Harkonnen ways” you so appreciated didn’t extend far past the attachment the two of you shared and his ability to make you see stars when his cock was inside of you, but it eventually developed into more. Much more. Though never said aloud, he loved you. So much so that when you finally informed him of your betrothed’s treatment of you the week preceding the party—his cornering you, touching you, telling you of his intent to control and use you as he pleases once you become his wife—Feyd struggled to swallow his rage. 

“I’m scared, honestly,” you told him, your hand sliding up from his abdomen over his chest to the curve where his neck met his shoulder, gently squeezing the toned muscle. “How do I become the wife of a man like that? And what about producing his heir? I’ll have no choice but to let him have me.”

It made Feyd sick to think of another man so close to you. Another man’s hands on you, his lips marring your body, tongue between your folds, sweat staining your skin. Even screwing his eyes shut couldn’t make those images disappear. They only grew stronger, tormenting him. She’s not yours, a little voice whispered. Not your woman, not the mother of your child, not your wife. 

But, fuck, you should be. You should be all of those things. You would make a perfect Baroness; the only one Feyd could imagine himself wanting. You would face hardship with a sturdy backbone and not shy away from what Giedi Prime would request of you. You would be respected as the ruler by his side, as you deserve. Respected most of all by the man who loves you.

“Would you rather marry me?” Feyd asked, lazily running his fingers up and down your bare spine. He felt a sudden uneasiness, like nerves wiggling throughout his limbs. Such an unfamiliar sensation. Unwelcome, but not misplaced he supposed.

“Yes,” you replied to his relief. “But we both know that’s not how this works, Feyd. It’s just not that simple.”

You were right. It wasn’t simple. Your father made an arrangement with House Kenric, but there was no chance Feyd was going to let that old Duke take you from him in two weeks and ship you off to marry an abusive, unworthy pest of a man. If your father wouldn’t permit simplicity for the sake of your happiness, then Feyd would just have to make it simple. 

—

“Why is it again that I’m not allowed to see?” you ask as Feyd guides you down a dark corridor with his fingers covering your eyes.

“I told you it’s a surprise,” he teases. “Don’t you like my presents?” 

You chuckle. “Of course, I like your presents.”

“Then that’s all you need to know,” he tells you. “We are here, anyway.”

Coming to a stop, Feyd removes his hands from your eyes and places them on your shoulders, kneading out the tension that has only worsened in your body as your wedding day grows nearer. You blink once, twice, still curious as to what sort of present could possibly be this far from your rooms, but when your vision adjusts to the onslaught of bright light illuminating the small cell, you gasp at the sight before you. 

“What do you think?” Feyd asks, pressing a kiss to your neck as you take in the badly beaten body of Aldo Kenric—your future husband.

He’s secured to a chair, his arms strapped down to the chairs arms and legs strapped to legs. His head hangs low. His shirt is torn down the front, exposing the deep purple bruises that litter his torso. Blood drips from his nose and split lips to stain white fabric and forge red rivers through the hills of his abdomen muscles. If not for the pink flush to his skin, you would think him long dead.

The hand that raises to your mouth partially conceals your shock, but the rest of your face gives the emotion away. Your eyelids don’t seem to be able to blink anymore, and your brows will not lower from their position high up on your forehead. You don’t know how to swallow what you see.

With a sigh, Feyd says, “Wait a moment. He’s not very lively.” Then he steps around you toward your betrothed, lifts the man's head by his cropped blond hair, and hits him across the face with a smack that echoes throughout the cell. Scarlet droplets splatter across Feyd’s forearm like flung paint from a brush.

Aldo jolts awake, body convulsing in a sharp jerk. His eyes blow wide as saucers as he snaps his head in all directions and struggles against his binds. The gag in his mouth muffles his whimpers of panic. 

“H-How?” you stutter, glancing at Feyd. “When did you—”

“I had some of my men snatch him last night,” Feyd informs you. ‘While we were busy fucking’, he leaves out. “I was told it was done without difficulty. Didn’t put up a decent fight of any sort.” 

He grabs Aldo’s jaw, fingers pressing into the hollows of his cheeks, and forces his head so he has no choice but to look directly into Feyd’s eyes. “We had a long talk about respecting our women, didn’t we, Kenric?”

Tears stream down the man’s face, cutting through dried blood and dripping onto Feyd’s hand. Aldo tries to yank his head free from the tight grasp to look at you. You think he’s repeating your name behind the stuffing in his mouth, but you can’t be sure.

“What are you going to do with him?” you ask.

“What would you like me to do with him?”

“I can decide?”

He laughs. “Of course. I wouldn’t give you a gift and not let you choose what to do with it.”

You almost flinch in shock. You’re not known for choosing things for yourself. Until you met Feyd, ‘choice’ was a word associated with negativity and obligatory sacrifice. He is the one thing you’ve ever chosen. Your clothes, your hair, your studies, your husband—all selected for you. But Feyd…you met him and fell and didn’t want to get back up. 

Maybe now, you don’t have to.

“You’d kill him?” you ask.

Aldo screams behind his gag, more salty wet lines running down his face. His squirming shifts the chair back and forth and forward and back. Unevenly distributed weight nearly causes him to fall on his side, but Feyd sets him upright before he can crack his head on the stone floor. 

Reaching around his back, Feyd pulls out a small knife and in one sharp motion sinks it into Aldo’s thigh with a sickening yet satisfying thick thud. “Stay put,” he growls, then he turns to you with a smile. “Yes, I would kill him, if that would make you happy.”

Water pools in the corner of your eyes. Your bottom lip begins to quiver. Feyd rushes to you and cups your cheeks in warm palms. 

“Do not cry,” he demands as his thumbs brush over your cheekbones. “You know I hate it.”

“I'm sorry,” you say, sucking in a few deep breaths between your sniffles. “No one has ever done something like this for me before.”

His face softens. “I’d do everything for you,” he swears before drawing you in for a kiss; slow and sensual and sweet in front of the broken man who currently has a claim on your hand. You lose yourself to mouths moving in perfect sync until he pulls back. 

“So, do you have a preference?” he asks, giving you one final peck. “Slit throat now, or arena in the morning?”

Your head tilts in contemplation as you observe the distressed, wailing man who has happily hurt and terrified you. By nature, you are not a violent woman, not in the way your man is a violent man, and you were raised to believe that it is improper and rude and disrespectful to wish pain upon someone else—downright cruel or whatever—but there’s a sense of freedom now. Clearer mind, lighter heart, straighter spine, weakened conscience.

You raise a brow. “If I choose the arena, will you make a show of it?”

Feyd hums in agreement.

“And, um…” you pause.

“You can have anything you want,” Feyd says at your hesitation.

You nod, your confidence renewing with his encouragement. Yes, he’s right, you can have anything. With Feyd, it’s anything, and it’s conditionless. 

As you slowly drag your hand down his chest, you peer up at him through your lashes. “Will you go in without a shirt? I’d like to see you come out covered in red.”

Feyd smirks then steps out of your arms and crouches in front of your soon-to-be-former betrothed. “Did you hear her?” he asks Aldo as he flicks the hilt of the blade sticking out of his flesh. Aldo whimpers, pressing his legs together. “Covered, she says. And I will give her what she wants because I love her and this is how I respect her.”

Leaning down, you wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Let’s go to our room. I want to thank you…properly,” you whisper, softly kissing just under his ear before sucking his earlobe into his mouth. Feyd groans.

“And then I will properly thank you for thanking me, my love,” he says with a grin that falls into a frown when he turns back to Aldo. “See, Kenric? Respect.” Feyd slaps the top of Aldo’s leg for emphasis as he stands. “You can keep the knife for now. Can't have you bleeding out. We have an important day ahead of us and I don’t want it to be too easy.”

“Come on,” you snicker, pulling him by the hand as you walk backward out of the cell. 

Feyd spins and grabs you at the waist to lift you into his arms. You giggle as your legs lock around his hips.

“Will you agree to marry me now?” he asks you.

“Yes,” you tell him, your lips ghosting over his. “You saved me.”

--

tags (let me know if you want to be on the list): @avidreader73

[permanentswaps]

Building Each Other Up

I've been training Shane for years now. When he first started coming to the gym, he was just a scrawny kid fresh out of college, looking to put on some muscles so that he could impress the ladies.

I remember the first time we met. I saw him struggling with the barbell, his form all over the place, and honestly, it looked like he was going to throw his back out any minute. Being the seasoned gym-goer that I am, I couldn't just stand by and watch. So, I offered to help him out. After all, I'd been working out for years and liked to think I was in pretty good shape.

The gym had always been more than just a place to let off steam and bulk up —it was a sanctuary. As a closeted single guy in his mid-thirties, the gym was a place where I could discreetly check out guys, maybe even meet the occasional DL hookup without fear of judgment or exposure.

But then Shane came along, and everything changed. We started out as just friends, bonding over working towards our mutual goals in the gym. But as I trained him, helping him sculpt his body, our friendship deepened. He looked up to me, admired my dedication and expertise, and in turn, I found a sense of purpose and fulfillment in helping him reach his goals.

Over the years, Shane and I grew closer. We shared more than just sets and reps; we shared our hopes, fears, and dreams. And amidst all the sweat and strain, I found myself opening up to him in ways I never thought possible. I confided in him about my sexuality, my struggles with self-acceptance, and the challenges of living a double life. And to my relief and gratitude, Shane was always there for me, offering support, understanding, and a listening ear. It was truly the best friendship I’ve ever had.

Our unique bond didn't just stem from the amount of time we spent together at the gym; it was also fueled by our unorthodox training style. You see, we had a secret potion, which I had first discovered when I was Shane’s age.

To everyone else in the gym, it just looked like your typical pre-workout supplement. But for Shane and me, it was so much more. This potion had a remarkable ability—it allowed Shane to jump into my body.

When Shane would make the jump, I would become powerless, a spectator in my own body. He was in total control, and only he could decide when to jump back out. But the benefits were undeniable. Not only would he gain the muscle memory from the workout, but he would also inherit any gains my body had achieved from the session. And since I was already pretty muscular, Shane progressed rapidly.

Sometimes, during our training sessions, I would willingly let consciousness take a nap. I trusted Shane fully, so what did it matter if I checked out for a little while? Usually, Shane would jump out after he had showered and changed for me, and we’d go about the rest of our days. But there were occasions when I would wake up the next day, only to realize that he had remained in my body longer than expected. It was a strange sensation, waking up on those days, but I trusted Shane to do what was best for both of us so it was fine by me.

While our training sessions primarily took place in the gym, there were a few instances where I allowed Shane to use my body for purposes other than working out. I remember a couple of occasions when he wanted to pick up girls at the local bar. It was a bit weird for me, considering I was into guys, but I was happy to let him have a good time. Besides, there was a thrill in experiencing what my life could have been like had I been straight, feeling my body react with excitement at the prospect of engaging in intimate relations with a woman.

But it wasn’t long before Shane's dedication paid off, and his body became super ripped. He didn't need to rely on using my body to pick up girls anymore—he had the confidence and physique to do it all on his own. And even though he started to get a bit cocky at times, I was there to keep his ego in check.

It was around that time that we stopped using the potion and went back to being normal gym partners, pushing each other to get better. It hurts my ego to say now, but I think his physique is better now than mine ever was. Which is why Shane’s recent proposition really surprised me.

---

For the past few months, Shane had been pouring his heart and soul into training for a bodybuilding competition. Despite his relentless efforts, it seemed like he was still struggling a bit to reach his peak performance.

"Hey,” Shane said as we walked into the gym for our usual session. “So I'm struggling to get in as much training as I want to, and I could really use your help.”

"Sure, what do you need?" I replied, genuinely curious about his proposal.

"I was thinking we could use the potion again," Shane began, his words hanging in the air. "But this time... you could take over me."

My heart stopped at his suggestion. In all my years of using the potion, I had never actually took over someone else's body. I had always been too nervous to entertain the thought. What if I got excited by a guy and it outed me to whoever I had taken over? And besides, none of my friends were really any better looking than I was, so why would I want that?

But this was something different entirely. I trusted Shane fully, and I didn't really have to worry about those concerns with him. Plus, the idea of experiencing the world through Shane's eyes and getting to be in his body for a change seemed oddly appealing. And it did seem only fair since he had spent so much time in mine.

"Okay, sure," I said tentatively, my mind racing with possibilities. "What did you have in mind?"

---

Shane came up with a plan where we would alternate control, with me spending two days in his body followed by three out. He believed that this schedule would give him the mental rest he needed to train as intensely as he was hoping—or at least, that's what he said.

For our first session, I phased right into his body in a private corner of the locker room. The sensation was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. I was overcome with a rush of unfamiliar sensations. Like I said, I had never actually been in another body before, and this wasn’t just any body.

Sure, I had muscles when I was his age, but they weren't nearly as defined or toned as Shane's. And I certainly never had this much energy, or this attractive of a face. I mean, I know I'm considered handsome now, but it took a lot of time (and a bit of plastic surgery, if I'm being honest) to get it that way.

I spent the next two days absolutely grinding, hitting double sessions in the gym both days, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from myself in the mirror. My chest and shoulders were absolutely massive now, each muscle defined and sculpted to perfection. It felt incredible, like I was invincible.

At the end of those two days, Shane was super thankful and went back to training himself. But as those next three days in my own body passed by, I found myself constantly thinking about Shane, yearning to feel that rush of power and confidence again. Soon enough, I did.

With the competition looming only a few months away, we stuck to our schedule, which started fine-tuning Shane's physique to perfection one intense training session at a time. And just like in the old days—but this time with the roles reversed—I used Shane's body for hook ups when I was in control. It was refreshing to have this much energy in bed, to feel the strength and vitality pulsating through every muscle. And with Shane's youthful appearance, I found myself attracting a whole new demographic of guys. No longer was I an older daddy, the guys I pulled just saw me for the hot young stud I was.

As the competition drew nearer, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in how far we had come.

But still, Shane still seemed to be a bit overwhelmed by the pressure. Despite our intense training regimen, he couldn't shake off the feeling of uncertainty and self-doubt. To help him out, we decided to up my stay in his body. What started as two days gradually turned into three, then four day stints, and eventually, I found myself spending an entire week inhabiting Shane's body.

He was thankful for the dedication and hard work I was putting in, and I could see the relief in his eyes every time I got out. But as the days passed, I found myself slowly becoming addicted to Shane's physique and his youth. There was something intoxicating about being in a body that radiated strength and vitality.

Things went awry, though, when I stayed for 11 days straight. I could sense that Shane was starting to get annoyed, his frustration simmering for at least a few days. Then, it reached a breaking point.

I could hear Shane's voice in my head, telling me to get out, to give him back control of his own body. But I ignored it. You see, my most recent booty call had been out of town, and I was itching to see him again. I knew he would be back tomorrow, and I just needed to hold out until then. I needed to pound his tight hole, I just couldn't think about anything else. I mean just look at this sexy video he just sent, can you blame me?

So kept brushing off Shane's protests, telling him, "No, no, just a bit longer. I promise."

Then, things went a bit sideways.

"Mark, seriously, get out of my head!" Shane's voice echoed loudly in my mind, his anger palpable.

"Just a little longer, Shane. I promise," I replied, trying to placate him.

"You've been saying that for days! I need my body back, man," Shane insisted, his tone bordering on desperation.

"I just... I have plans, Shane. Give me until tomorrow, okay?" I pleaded, my own desperation seeping into my voice.

But Shane wasn't having it. "No more excuses, Mark. Get out now!”

He started to fight back, trying to push me out of his mind. Despite having no physical control, his willpower was strong, and it had been quite a while since I'd entered his body. Who knew if it was possible for him to force me out?

But I couldn't afford to entertain those thoughts. Besides, Shane sounded annoyed, and I didn't know if he'd let me back in after that. So, I stubbornly held on, determined to see things through to the end, consequences be damned.

I fought back, pushing against Shane's consciousness with all my might. Our mental energies clashed, swirling around each other in a chaotic dance. Shane was strong, no doubt about it, but from all my years of using the potion, I was just ever so slightly more experienced in this realm.

I could feel him teetering on the edge of some sort of mental cliff, his resistance wavering. And then, seizing the opportunity, I gave him one final push. Suddenly, I felt my body convulse. I watched in astonishment as my old body, presumably with Shane inside, fell out of my hunky young body and stumble backward across the room before falling down.

As he looked at me, confusion clouding his face, I couldn't help but say, "Well this is new."

To Be Continued ...

[thetorturedbuckydepartment]

chapter one: the bolter

pairing: Bucky barnes x plus-sized!reader

summary: Six months ago, you were appointed to be Head Nurse to the Avengers by Tony Stark. Every day, you count your lucky stars, knowing the horrible past you quickly ditched back in England. It holds you back, restrains you, from getting close to anyone when on your new job.

That's until you met and fell in love with Bucky Barnes. The supposed assassin with a heart of gold, who seems to be eager to get to know you. To peel back your layers piece by piece, but could you trust him once you're laid before him raw and vulnerable?

warnings: language, self deprecation, mentions of school bullying(?)

word count: 1.6k

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy! I used to write fan fiction a few years back as a weird, lonely teenager, and this is me making a comeback! I have a few original works I like to write, but that's about it. I know a lot of you guys have been waiting for a while, but I hope you enjoy this chapter, and please feel free to comment any plot theories or thoughts! :)

Pathetic fallacy is a fucking bitch. Steve’s been away for a day or two, off to Wakanda, and everyone’s here, faces sour over grey clouds and heavy downpour, busy making preparations for the big day. He says that his best friend is coming home, finally, where he belongs.

Everyone’s heard of this best friend in question — James Buchanan Barnes. Your friends are a bit skeptical, afraid he’ll come with his eyes painted as dark as the night sky and his hair long in some lab rat’s defiance. You can’t help but fear the same.

When you were hired to work as a nurse in the Tower’s infirmary, you’d kept to yourself. It’s a wonder anyone’s wanting to give you a job after the way you were fired from your last one, let alone Tony fucking Stark, taking pity and picking you off the streets of a foreign country. You’re currently perched on a wobbly stepladder, trying your best to not fall headfirst as you stand vulnerable, trying to push the damn pin into the sign that reads Welcome Home, Bucky! In sloppy, maroon handwriting made entirely by you, ever since you heard it was his favourite colour.

You wonder if it could’ve been a poor choice considering the striking resemblance to blood — the same colour as your shirt, white coat long forgotten over the back of the couch in the main communal living area. 

“Here, let me help you with that,” comes a gruff voice from beside you. 

“Oh no, I’m fine, honestly. Can you go check to see if the quinjet’s landed?” You glance down, and directly into deep blue, entranced by the hypnotic hue. No dark paint, hair cropped messy over the crown of his head. Dressed in a sweater the same colour as yours, and you could’ve sworn it’s like fate. 

“Bucky,” you breathed. Bucky? What is he already doing here? He’s not supposed to be for another hour or two? These are just some of your racing thoughts as you examine his face, looking as bright as fucking sunshine. And then you stumble, the ladder giving out from under you and you yelp, expecting to come plummeting to the cold, hard ground. And instead, warm arms envelop you instead, holding you firm to his chest as you struggle to find the words.

“Sorry! Sorry, I don’t usually fall like this I promise.” He looks directly at you, and you register he hasn’t set you down yet, still holding on tightly. He laughs, the vibrations igniting something inside your chest, the flame spreading itself all over your cheeks.

“Don’t worry about it. What’s your name, beautiful?” He gently helps you place your feet on the floor, and you find yourself desperate to cling to his warmth once again but letting him go, blushing at his compliment. As if it couldn’t get any worse, he’s probably a smooth charmer, fuck. You stumble a little bit over your words as you give him your name and he runs it over his tongue.

Has your name always sounded this pretty? Especially spoken in that gruff, heavenly voice of his?

“I, I thought you weren’t supposed to be here for another hour, we’re still setting—.” You look around, only to find the room completely empty and every decoration in its perfect place, save the ladder now laying on its side in one corner.  When had everyone finished, and why have they all just left?

“They’re all talking to Steve.” He attaches your name at the end of it like a newly discovered drug he’s desperate for another hit of. You tilt your head, a million questions on the tip of your tongue.

“It was really loud in there. Steve takes all the attention anyway, so I used that moment to sneak out.” Your heart breaks for him. This was supposed to be his party, but you offer him some reassurance instead.

“Well, I know we just met but when they all come piling in here to give you a big hug and bring all the noise with them, you can come to me. I know what it’s like, but for now…welcome home!” You awkwardly gesture to the sign behind you, giving him jazz hands. He chuckles and nods his head in thanks, making you smile. 

“Now what’s your favourite baked treat? I heard you like just basic brownies?” His grin only widens. “Yeah, I do love basic brownies.” You gasp in joy, glad to get it right, practically skipping to wrap one and hand it to him. 

He tentatively takes it from your hands, ensuring they brush and one more spark flies into the raw distance between you and him, and you don’t miss the way his beautiful ocean eyes flutter at the contact. You clasp your suddenly sweaty palms around each other, patiently waiting for him to take a bite, and the second his pearly teeth dig into the sweet treat in a way that makes your heart run hot, the noise arrives. 

A cacophony of shouts and cheers make the both of you flinch as Steve walks up to his best friend, attacking him in a hug. “So happy you’re back Bucky!” And takes a bite out of the brownie in his hand as he turns to me, moaning.

“Did you make this? It tastes amazing, dear.” You beam at his praise, nodding along when your eyes fall back on the ladder, long forgotten in the now crowded room. You wouldn’t say you’re lonely, after all, Natasha and Wanda are some of your best friends in your current situation, but they’re almost always off on missions and all the nurses love to talk about is the Star Spangled Man they’d just die to get in their beds. When you first arrived, you were almost always found silently chuckling in the corner, always wanting what you can’t have. Now, your days are always busy, being jetted off on missions once Tony finished the extensive background check on you and letting you figure out who you work the best with. But still, all the days staying silent and to yourself have left you quite…left out. Even as the masses party around you, you feel oddly still. Stagnant, almost.

“Sorry guys, I’ll be right back, I need to go put the ladder away.” You point, and both super soldiers follow your finger, when Bucky interrupts.

“It looks really heavy, let me carry it for you,” he all but begs, a pleading look in his eyes to be taken away from all this din. You glance at Steve who doesn’t argue, letting his gorgeous friend do whatever the fuck he wants. The look on his face is smug and omniscient, as if privy to a secret you’re on the outside of when he glances between you and Bucky. 

You decide to take mercy on his poor soul. “That would be lovely thank you.” You smile politely, moving off in the direction of the bright yellow ladder, trying your best to not stare at Bucky’s bulging muscles rippling beneath his sweater with your mouth so wide open. And to ignore the heat in the pit of your belly at the ease with which he does so, as if the hunk of metal you struggled with for an hour is only a feather to him. 

You lead him to the storage room in silence, thinking it best to not overwhelm him with questions in a saccharine tone. “Thank you, I know it’s really heavy.” You stand in the doorway as he walks up to meet you, and you push yourself as hard as you can against the doorframe so he can pass, but he hovers. Inches away from you. You stare up into his beautiful eyes, taking a quiet moment to admire his pulchritude. Full lips more pink than a spring flower, stubble just enough to catch on your hand if you were to touch him. Cheekbones carved by the careful hands of the Gods themselves, so well-versed in human attraction. How is anyone not to fall in love with him when he can haunt you so stunningly? 

You’re so lost in him you don’t register the lean of his body closer to you, intent on studying your face right back, hellbent on memorising the constellations of your moles and spots. You swallow dryly, unsure of what to do. Is the tension so palpable that he feels it too? Surely not.

Being the way you are, you’re no stranger to rejection. Or to have nobody feel anything for you in the desolate wasteland of your youth, all the nights you’ve screamed at the sky to feel just one genuine connection and all the days you’ve tried to accept it and move on. It’s not the people around you, they are the understanding ones, and apart from one man, someone is yet to treat you like you fear they would.

But someone is yet to truly love you. To truly want you. 

And you highly doubt it’s going to be Bucky Barnes, man whose house can be found in the highest echelons of heaven. Stick to safer things, you try to remind yourself but when your eyes fall back into his, that flies straight out the window. You find yourself not caring, wanting to try anyway. You—

“You’re really pretty, you know that?” The words fly past his lips before he can stop them, and your cheeks turn crimson. Maybe he’s the cruel sort — trying to hook you onto him just so he can laugh when you beg for a fix. At your desperation, at the naive hope you’d hold onto with your dear life that he could feel the same high as you on even the tiniest morsel. 

The taunts of children on playgrounds still echo in your ears, all these eons later. 

So you do the only thing that feels familiar and right.

You run away, and in your haste miss the longing, confused stare he gives the path you take.

NEXT PART

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

Moi Devochki: Chapter 4

Authors note: buckle up, it's a bit of a long one

Warnings: angst, kidnapping, attempted sa/forced claiming, violence

Word count: 3580

WandaNat Masterlist Marvel Masterlist Moi Devochki Masterlist

After Steves apology things had calmed down around the compound. Everyone's routines went back to normal for the next few days and Natasha decided it was time to tell Clint about her mates, so after her morning training she heads for the kitchen. Where else would the archer be at lunchtime?

   “Hey Nat!” he greets, taking a bite of his sandwich

   “Hey yourself. Got a minute to spare?” she asks

   He smiles, “Always got time for you.” She takes a seat next to him and he watches as a smile lights up her features. “Well someones happy”

   “I really am Clint. I really am.” she tells him

   “Well then don’t keep me waiting, what or who has got you smiling so damn hard?” he teases her

   “Wanda and Y/n. They're my Omegas now.” she beams proudly 

   He chuckles, “I knew you had pull Romanoff, but to get two Omegas? Damn you're good.”

   “Honestly, I’m just really lucky.” she tells him

   “So how does it work with two Omegas, like how do you make sure you spend equal time with them?” he asks

   She chuckles, “Actually it’s quite easy with Wanda and Y/n. They were already together before I told them about my feelings for them.”

   “Oh, ok.” he says with a nod before her words completely sink in, “Wait a minute, you better be careful. Not everyone is going to be ok with two Omegas being together.”

   “I know. Yelena and I already had to put Steve in his place. He was upset about Wanda and Y/n being together, and was under the impression that Y/n was going to be his.” she tells him with a growl

   “Ah, the old geezer is still set in the forties eh? Not that not surprising honestly, but a bit disappointing. I’m glad Yelena had your back.” he says

   “Tony and Bucky helped too but yeah, having her there was definitely very helpful” she admits

   “Well I’m really happy for you Nat. I'm glad you found them.” he tells her. He notices some movement in the kitchen's doorway and glances behind her. He smirks and looks back at his best friend, “Looks like someone missed you.”

   She turns in her seat and smiles upon seeing Wanda, the Omega however doesn't look near as happy, “Dorogoy(sweetheart), what's wrong?”

   She spins the rings on her fingers, clearly nervous, “I was hoping Y/n was with you.”

   The Alphas brows furrow, “She was with you when I left for training.”

   “She was with me, but she said she was going to grab us something for lunch, only she didn’t come back and isn't answering her phone.” she tells her mate

   Natasha is immediately worried, thoughts of Hydra finding you and taking you flood her mind “How long ago did she leave the bedroom?”

   “Almost thirty minutes ago.” the Omega says, voice laced in concern. Natasha tries not to panic, a half hour would have given you plenty of time to come to the kitchen, grab lunch and return to Wanda and yet you’d never even made it to the kitchen.

   The Alpha looks back at her best friend who nods, “I’ll go get Yelena. We’ll find her Nat.”

   “FRIDAY, inform Tony there may be a breach in the compound and Y/n is missing.” she says before joining Wanda in the kitchens doorway. She grabs her hand, “We’ll find our Omega, don’t worry.”

   You had found yourself in an uncomfortable position and not with Hydra, though honestly you might prefer dealing with them. While walking through the halls heading for the kitchen you'd been grabbed from behind and you found yourself being taken into Steves room. 

   He quickly gags you, not wanting to risk you yelling out for your mates. The Beta behind you moves you towards his bed, you attempt to struggle but Steve grabs the nape of your neck and begins crooning. To your dismay your Omega instincts obey the Alpha and your body practically goes limp, allowing him to easily move you to the bed. He holds your arms together as the Beta, who you can now see is Sharon Carter, ties them up. You look over to her and your eyes meet hers, you use them to silently beg for help.

   “Sorry Y/n, it’s nothing personal. My Alpha really wants you.” she says

   Unable to say anything you glare at her and pull on your bindings, the Alpha gets closer to you and cups your face.

   “I’ll take care of you Omega. I’ll make you mine and you’ll be able to see just how good of a mate I am. You’ll see you were meant for me, not Nat.” he says

   You yank your face from his grip, he moves to touch you again and you let out a small growl attempting to sound intimidating like your Alpha. Steve gets closer so you kick at him, hoping to deter his advances. Instead he forces your legs down and ties them together as well. You thrash about, hoping to loosen the ropes or at least knock something over in the room to get someones attention. Again he croons, forcing you to be calmer.

   Steve picks you up and throws you over his shoulder easily, Sharon checks the hallway. Once she’s sure it’s clear they quickly make their way to Sharons SUV, he tosses you into the backseat as the Beta gets into the drivers seat. After he's sure you're secure he gets into the passenger seat.

   “Drive. I’m sure someones noticed her absence by now.” he says, Sharon listens and starts driving. With the way you're positioned in the back seat you can’t see out the back windows or even the front windshield. You have no idea where you are or where you're headed, not like you could do anything with that information anyway. You had really no way to leave clues or your mates.

   Back in the kitchen the five avengers have had no luck in finding you, and Tony is checking with FRIDAY 

   “What do you mean she's not in the building?” he questions

   “She left approximately twenty minutes ago.” the AI responds, making your Alpha even more concerned. While they wasted time looking for you who knows where you'd been taken.

   “Was she alone?” he asks

   “No. Steve Rogers and Sharon Carter left with her.” the AI informs them

   “Any footage of them together?” he asks and the AI immediately broadcasts the garages camera feed to his phone which he holds up to let everyone see. Your Alphas brows furrow as she sees you tired and hoisted over Steves shoulder, a whine escapes Wanda at the scene.

      Nat growls as anger fills her. How could he apologize to her face just to turn around and take you from her. Dread fills Wanda at the thought of him forcing himself upon you and claiming you. He was going to try and take you away from them forever like he’d threatened.

    “You have to find her Alpha, please.” Wanda begs, tears running down her cheeks, “Her heat starts in a few days and he can’t…Tasha he can’t have her.”

   If he claimed you on your heat it was almost certain you'd be with his pup and that thought alone made Nat sick to her stomach. She wouldn't and couldn’t allow that. If he touches you, knots you, or marks you she's pretty sure she’ll kill him.

   The Alpha cups her mate's face, “Shh, dorogoy(sweetheart). I will find her, and I will bring her home. He will not take her from us.” she says, ready to do anything so she could be true to her word.

   Wanda cuddles into your Alpha hoping to both give and receive comfort. The two of you haven’t been apart since her brother died, she feels lost without you by her side. What happens if they can’t find you?

   “I’ll start scanning traffic and security cams. We’ll see if we can see where they're taking Y/n. I’ll hack into satellites if I have to, we will find them” Tony says before rushing off to his lab.

   A few hours have gone by and so far all Tony has managed to find is only a few shots of the SUV, definitely not enough to pinpoint where they were heading with you. He calls Peter for help scanning through the footage as well as having FRIDAY look for any property owned or leased by Sharon or Steve but unfortunately no results show up.

    As the hours drag on, your absence already starts to affect your mates. Wanda had retreated to the nest a while ago, her need to feel you next to her and to have your scent around her was almost overwhelming. She trembled as she tugged one of your sweatshirts on, your scent filled her nose and though it did please her it also made her heart ache. Tears stream down her face as she thinks about you cuddling her, wrapping your arms around her and holding her close as you lightly kiss her neck and playfully nip her ear. She wants to feel you next to her so badly right now.

   She can’t remember a time when you weren't next to her, from the time you were pups until Pietro died the three of you did everything together and after she lost him she gained an even closer relationship with you. What would she do if she no longer had you? Why was everyone she loved and cared for taken from her? Her parents, her brother, and now you…no she couldn't think like that, not yet. You had to be ok, you had to come back to her.

   She's so caught up in her thoughts of you as she sobs that she doesn't even hear the door to her room open, so she doesn't see the look of absolute relief that washes over Natashas face when she finally finds where her other Omega is.

   “You scared me dorogoy(sweetheart).” she says as she joins her in the nest, “I didn’t know where you went and I thought….” she trails off as her voice breaks, but she doesn't need to say it outloud. Not when the Omega can hear her thoughts

   Wanda cuddles into your Alpha, “I’m sorry Alpha, I should have told you where I was going. I just… I just want Y/n back, I miss her.”

   She nods, “I miss her too.” she says as she pulls Wanda close to her. She buries her head into her Omegas neck and tears form in her eyes as she picks up on your scent from the hoodie.  

   Natasha feels stupid for not seeing how large of a threat Steve still was, she had thought she and Yelena had straightened him out but she's a spy and a damn good one so she should have been able to tell if he meant what he said and if he had stopped watching you. She failed you, she was your Alpha and was meant to protect you and she even told Wanda she’d never let you be taken away. And now you might be gone from them forever, she would never forgive herself if Steve hurt you.

   “...I’m sorry” she whispers, Wanda almost doesn't hear it. 

   Your Omega turns around in Nats hold, “Tasha, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

   Tears stream down her face as she nods, “Yes I do. This is all my fault. I wasn’t a good enough Alpha.”

   Wanda nuzzles into her mate, “You're an amazing Alpha Tasha. You're our Alpha. This isn’t your fault”

   She sobs as your Omega hugs her tightly, she's relieved Wanda doesn't blame her and still trusts her with her safety. She wouldn't know what to do if her other Omega left her or was angry enough to not speak with her.

   Eventually they fall into a restless nights sleep without you. Natasha never lets go of her hold on Wanda, she's too worried someone else might come along and steal her away too. So she wakes up often to check that her mates still there. Your Omega never takes your sweatshirt off, it helps trick her sleepy mind into thinking you're still near which is quite helpful in making her comfortable enough that she doesn't wake often. She is however plagued with nightmares of never seeing you again, or seeing Steve force himself onto you.

    Yelena goes to wake them the next morning, Peter had found something and although it wasn’t much it was certainly better than not knowing. She takes a deep breath before knocking on the door. She hears no reply so she knocks again, still nothing. She lets herself in and finds your mates entangled with each other in the nest.

   “Wake up, Peter has news.” she says as her hand grabs her sisters shoulder

   She pulls Wanda as close to her chest as possible, her arms wrap around her protectively as a deep growl leaves her. Her brows furrow as her eyes snap open, she bares her teeth as she snarls, “Don’t touch my Omega.”

   “Woah, woah. It's just me sestra(sister)” the blond says as she removes her hand from the Alphas shoulder

   Nat shakes her head, “Yelena? I’m sorry, I-”

   “It’s ok, I understand.” she says, a sad smile on her face, “You and Wanda should come down to the lab, Peter found something on Y/n. Not much but it’s worth a look.”

   Wandas wakes at the mention of you and Nat can feel her heart ache for your presence, “We’ll be right there” the redhead says

  Once your mates get to the lab Peter is quick to show them a handful of pictures of Sharons SUV in Brooklyn, but no precise location of where they had you. At least they had a smaller area to focus on now. 

   Natasha takes your Omega to the kitchen for something to eat after that. Bucky walks in to find them merely picking at the pancakes on their plates. He hates that he believed Steves apology. The sad looks on the faces of the women in front of him is heartbreaking and he wants to offer them comfort and help find you.

   He walks over to them, “I’m sorry Nat. I really didn’t think he’d do something like this, I thought he was serious about his apology.” he says just as Clint and Yelena join them all in the kitchen.

   Clint is about to tell him that now probably isn’t the best time for this conversation but before he can Wanda absolutely breaks down, she sobs as her tears fall. Natasha is quick to get up, she stands next to her Omega and pulls her into her embrace. She croons to help her to calm down, but Yelena can see the tears that threaten to fall from her sisters eyes as well.

  It’s clear your mates miss you desperately. Clint can’t remember a time hes seen Nat look so crestfallen. Yelena wishes she would have punched Steve harder, hard enough to break his neck might be more sufficient. Bucky can feel the anger he holds for Steve grow, how could he be so selfish to disregard your feelings and the fact that you already had chosen mates that you'd bonded with.

   Suddenly Clint has a moment of clarity, “Wait a minute, Nat! Let’s just track her phone or even Steves! The man doesn't understand technology and is acting on instinct right now, do you really think he thought about ditching phones?”

   Natasha grabs Clint by the shoulders and kisses his cheek, “I adore you.” she says before she takes off after Tony, Wanda and Bucky following right behind. Clint stands there with a bit of blush on his cheeks and a proud smile on his face. Yelena rolls her eyes at him.

   “You're just jealous because I’m her best friend.” he teases

   She scoffs, “I am literally her sister.”

   “But not her best friend” he teases again before taking off after Nat

   She moves to follow him, “Pochemu ya terplyu yego(Why do I put up with him?)” she mutters to herself.

   By the time they arrive in the lab Tony is already working on pinging your phone and Steves. Wandas hands have a vice-like grip on Natashas arm as they wait to see your location. Finally Tony is able to zero in on both you and Steve, you're both in an apartment that once belonged to Peggy Carter near where Steve originally grew up.

   “I’ve got the location!” Tony nearly shouts despite everyone being right next to him.

   “Send the address to my phone. Clint, Yelena, Bucky you're with me.” she says before making her way out of the lab.

   “Wait! Tasha, I’m coming too!” Wanda says as she runs after her mate

   Nat shakes her head, “With Steve there it's too dangerous.”

   The Omega whines, “Please, I need to be there. To see her, to make sure she's ok.”

   “Ok, but you stay out in the hallway. Not one foot in his apartment understood?” she replies

   Wanda shakes her head in agreement and the four of them hop into one of Tonys SUVs and head to Steves apartment.

      It’s at that very apartment that things take a turn for you, up until now Steve was simply allowing you to get adjusted with your new surroundings as well as the presence of him and Sharon. Now though you've been taken into the bedroom, once Steve sets you on the bed Sharon ties your already bound hands to the bed frame before leaving you and the Alpha in the room together. 

   His eyes roam over you as he walks closer to the bed. His hand moves to caress your face but you pull away from him. He smirks at your defiance and the next thing you know he's straddling your waist, giving you no wiggle room to get away from his touch or advances.

   His hands begin to roam over your torso and you pull at the rope holding your hands again. “Relax Y/n, I’ve got you.” he says as his hands find their way under your shirt. You growl again, the feeling of his hands on you is rough and unpleasant, it’s nothing like how Natashas hands feel on you.

   His hands pull back out from under your shirt, and you feel slightly relieved until his hands grab it, he pulls and it rips off you with ease. Damn his super soldier strength. Your breathing becomes quicker, the panic of the reality of the situation settling in.You glare daggers at him as he removes your bra in the same manner. 

   You hate how exposed you feel as his eyes roam over your body and you shiver as his hands caress your breasts. Despite you stiffening at his touch, he smiles.

    “I think I know how to relax you, properly.” he says as he moves off you. 

   His hands move to your waistband and you panic. You thrash your tied together legs wildly to avoid him and to your surprise you land a kick to his chest and another to his face.

   He growls before surging forward, his fist connects with your cheek harshly before he's grabbing you by the throat, “Stop fighting me!”

     Your cheek throbs and a few tears roll down your face, you're not sure if they're from the pain caused by the punch or the overwhelming sense of dread you were feeling. Where was your Alpha, how hasn’t she noticed your absence? Was Wanda not wondering where you were, did neither of them find this sudden disappearance unusual?

    His thumbs brush the tears from your cheek before he's standing again. He grabs your pants and underwear and yanks them down to your ankles. A whimper leaves you and he smirks again.

    “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle this first time.” he says

   Nausea washes over you at his words, you didn’t want Steve. He wasn’t your Alpha, you didn’t love him, hell you didn’t even like him as a friend. Your eyes move to the ceiling as the tears blur your vision, you attempt to pull at your bindings again, only stilling when you hear him unzip his own pants.

   You're sure the fear you feel is evident in both your face and your scent. “You're going to be my Omega.” he says, and you feel him begin to push your legs up towards your chest, giving him access to you. 

    You try moving your hips away from him, but his arm holds you firmly in place. His eyes meet yours as he strokes his cock with his free hand as he prepares himself for you. He gets closer to you, ready to take you but you manage to swing your legs free of his grasp hitting him in the head and knocking him off balance again.

    His patience and kindness with you have worn out, he grabs your throat again almost cutting off your oxygen supply entirely. He croons loudly as he once again lifts your legs and damn your instincts because you stop putting up a fight. Tears stream down your face as your hope of getting out of this situation dies.

   Suddenly though, you can hear a boom as the apartment's door is thrown off its hinges. Sharon goes to investigate but is quickly tackled by Yelena as Bucky, Clint and Nat rush in following your scent to the bedroom.

Taglist: @wandaromamoff69 @when-wolves-howl @danveration @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories@imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastorm @zoomdeathknight @aeroae @sashawalker2 @maggieromanov @doveromanoff @mommyluvu @404-almostdone @tarathia @ayoungexwife

[pedroshotwifey]

To the Flame chapter 16

Series masterlist

Pairing: Dark!Javier Peña x afab!reader

Chapter w/c: 3k

Chapter warnings: mentions of physical abuse, talk of suicide, manipulation, mental abuse, description of injury, controlling behavior, comfort, crying, javi being a dick, javi being "nice", reader being ✨delulu✨, idek how to tag this shit anymore, i think i might be gaslighting myself 💀

Chapter Summary: You get a glimpse of the man you used to know while you try to sort out your feelings in the hospital. You're faced with a tough decision---did you make the right one?

A/N: Don't know what to say about this one. Yes, we all want to scream at reader, yes, we all want to scream at Javi. Scream at me if you'd like and I'll happily scream back 😭 Love you babes!

******

You’re not dead, but you really wish you were. Your body aches more heavily than it ever has. Every breath you take is a massive effort and every twitch of your fingers sends a twinge through your entire body like a shock of electricity. You don’t know what’s easier—breathing deeply or taking in shallow breaths. Deeper means that your chest has to rise and fall painfully with the movement, but shallower makes you feel like you're not getting an efficient amount of air. You don’t want to decide, so you just lay on the kitchen floor and let your body do it for you. 

You don’t think Javi’s here with you, but you honestly could care less if he is or not. All you have to do is turn your head and look around, but you don’t think that’s possible for you right now. You can feel the way your throat has swollen and would pull tight if you tried. You just want to lay with your pain for a while and let it consume you so you don’t have to think. Though your head pounds painfully, it’s the clearest it’s been for weeks. You know you’ll have to get up at some point, but that point is not now. 

You can feel every organ individually, the way they struggle to work with every second that passes. Your lungs heave and sputter as you try to suck breath into them, and you’re suddenly curious to how they’re working at all. There’s no way for you to tell how long you were out or how much water you consumed, but you can only assume it was close to your limit. You thought you were going to die, you really did. 

You have no idea how long you lay there, staring up at the ceiling, before you hear the click of the door opening, then several sets of footsteps making their way inside. Their voices are muffled by the staticy noise in your head, and you frankly don’t care enough to try to figure out what’s going on. 

Javi’s blurry figure comes first, leaning over you as more people crowd in. 

“Sweetheart?” 

His dampened voice sounds panicked. You couldn’t give less of a fuck. You know that you’re probably going to be fine at this point, but you almost wish that you weren’t just to spite him. Suddenly, the light comes on, and your head starts to pound even harder. You close your eyes. 

***** When you open them again, you’re in a bed. Not yours, though, you can tell immediately. There’s daylight in the unfamiliar room coming from the window on the other side. So you know you’ve been out for a while. 

It takes a moment for you to remember what happened—why you’re probably here. And it’s with that realization that the pain returns. It’s more dull this time, immediately making you thankful for whatever meds they have you on. Just the underlying tightness throughout your body is enough for that. 

You blink and look around a bit, trying to scan your surroundings without moving too much. But when you spot the chair in the corner closest to you—who’s sitting in it—your adrenaline spikes. Javi sits up out of the chair as soon as he sees your eyes open and on him. He moves to the side of your bed and your body jerks away from him on instinct. 

“Get away from me,” you bite, though your voice is so strained it’s nearly incomprehensible. 

You can see hurt flash in his eyes for a split second, but it’s quickly replaced by anger. You don’t have time to dwell on that short moment of vulnerability before he has his hands on you, trying to hold you steady as you thrash and try to yell for help. He knows you won’t be able to muster up enough noise to be heard. 

“Fuckin’ stop and listen to me,” he spits, and you do, letting your body go limp before it gets any worse. You lay there and look him in the eye as silent tears sting your cheeks. 

“You’re going to tell them you tried to kill yourself,” he says calmly. You don’t realize you started shaking your head until he grabs your chin and stills you. “You’re going to say you couldn’t handle the stress of the move and you tried to drown yourself in the sink when I got home and found you.” 

You say nothing, because you know there’s no point. Why waste your breath and hurt your throat even more? 

“You tied a scarf around your neck, attached it to a weight, and threw it into the sink.” 

Oh, God. It makes you want to throw up, how elaborate his lie is. That would explain the bruising on your neck. He thought of everything, covered every track. You know you must be looking at him with pure disgust, but you don’t dare change your expression. You want him to see you, what he’s done to you, how he’s made you feel. 

There’s suddenly a knock at the door, and Javi’s expression changes to something almost tender. The hand tightly gripping your face moves to cup your cheek, the other to pet your hair. You feel panic and frustration crawling under your skin, consuming your body until you think you might scream. This is your chance to get away from him, but you know you won’t.  

All you have to do is tell the doctor you want to speak alone, tell them what’s happening, and you’ll never have to go back. But what if he didn’t believe you and you only make it worse for yourself? Or worse than that, what if he does, and you’re taken away from Javi. Exactly what you want, but also the last thing you can ever imagine happening. He’s still there, you can’t leave him. He’s still there. 

So, even as it crushes your soul and makes your heart jump wildly in your chest, you say nothing as Javi calls for the doctor to come in, and a man in a white coat steps inside with a clipboard. He smiles at you, his eyes full of so much pity that it makes you swallow. 

“Glad to see you up, honey. We were real worried for a second there.” 

You say nothing, just watch the doctor as Javi continues to stroke your hair, then places a kiss on your head and backs away for the man to check on you. He comes to your bedside, opposite of your husband, and places his hand on your forehead. 

“Still no fever,” he mumbles to himself, jotting something down on his clipboard. He brings a hand to your neck next, lightly pressing on the skin there with three fingers. He grimaces slightly. “Throat’s still very bruised and swollen. How bad does it hurt when I touch it here?” 

He moves his hand up and places his fingers on a spot right under your jaw and to the left, putting a small amount of pressure there. You try not to flinch. It’s not a lot of weight at all, but it hurts like hell. You can only guess that’s where most of the bruising ended up. 

“Hurts,” you rasp. The doctor puts his lips into a thin line and brings his hand back away. He writes something down and then sets the clipboard on the nightstand. 

“How long have I been here?” you question, voice barely a whisper. 

“You’ve been in and out for about forty-eight hours now,” the doctor tells you, glancing at his watch. “I’m not surprised you don’t remember it, you weren’t very cognizant.” 

You nod, resisting the urge to look at Javi. Instead, you let your head lay back on the pillow and inspect the water-stained ceiling tile above your bed. 

“When will she be cleared to come home?” Javi asks from where he’s sat in the chair. 

The man sighs contemplatively. “If all her vitals stay about the same as they are now for the next few hours, hopefully tonight. We would like to have somebody come talk to her to see where she’s at mentally first, since you’ve said that you work and she stays home. We don’t need her trying something like this again while she’s alone.” 

“I can take time off,” comes Javi’s quick reply, making something twist in your stomach. If you weren’t so mentally exhausted, you might be surprised about that. He had told you before that it was hard for him to just take days off. Though you suppose it would make sense for him to be able to request time for a family emergency. 

“I think that would be best, but we’re still going to have someone in to talk. We need to assess her cognitive functions as much as we need to make sure she’s not planning anything drastic.” 

Even though you’re not looking at him, you know Javi’s jaw is clenched. You know he’s smart enough to hold his tongue to not give himself away, even though he wants to protest more. He doesn’t trust what you might say while you’re alone, and frankly, you don’t either. 

“Can he stay in the room with me?” you croak. 

There’s a beat of silence as you look back to the doctor. He looks at you, then to Javi, then back to you. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk alone? The social worker we have on staff is very—”

“I’m sure,” you cut him off. “I want him here.” 

There’s a sickening sense of betrayal coming from yourself as you decide your fate. You don’t know why you’re doing this, but you do. It hurts your head to try to decode what you’re thinking half the time these days.

The man watches you for a few seconds, obviously trying to gauge how much of a mistake it would be to let you make this decision. “If that’s what makes you comfortable, we can do that.” 

There’s a wave of relief as Javi leans forward slightly to cover your hand with his. 

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he comforts. You visibly relax, letting your body slumping down into the mattress. You let yourself zone out for a bit while Javi and the doctor talk for a minute more, just savoring the warmth of Javi’s hand touching you so gently, so caring. You know you have his approval right now, and it feels so good to bask in it. 

You close your eyes and pretend to be asleep when the doctor leaves, trying to have Javi like this for as long as you can. You’re transported back to one of the first dates you went on with him, leaning up to him in his truck, his free hand over yours as it is now. The smiles you exchanged, the kisses, the laughs. It hurts so fucking bad. To think you’ll never have that again. 

Tears trickle from your shut eyes, a quiet sob leaving your lips even as you try to contain it. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Javi consoles, genuine sympathy in his voice. It makes you want to cry more. You open your eyes and Javi gets up from the chair, coming to the bed as you begin to sob. You don’t know how to explain to him the grief you’re feeling over him when he’s right there, but you don’t have to. You sit up the best you can and he cups your chin again, watching you tenderly with furrowed brows. 

“I know, honey, I know,” he coos before tucking your head to his chest. “I’ve got you. Get it all out.” 

And you do, you wrap your arms around him and cry into his chest until you can feel his shirt soaking your cheek. You shake and heave and clench the fabric until your tears go thin and start to burn your skin. 

He’s patient with you, holding you the entire time, whispering reassurances and rubbing your back, holding your head to him. It feels like your Javi. Yours. But it only makes you miss him more because you don’t know if it’s true. Don’t know if he’s snapped out of this awful trance that’s consumed him, or if he’s only here momentarily when you need him most. Either way, you let his care overwhelm you, let yourself drown in the affection. 

****

It’s only when you open your swollen eyes a few hours later that you realize you’d cried yourself to sleep in his lap. You’re laying down now, Javi in the same spot he was the first time you woke up. There’s a woman in the room talking to him, but you’re too groggy to think about what they’re saying. More nonsense about your mental state, you’re sure. 

And just like that, the love that had consumed you a few hours ago starts to fade. Your mental state. The carefully constructed lies you’re about to tell this woman. She turns to you when she sees you try to sit up, rushing to your side with a gentle smile. 

“Careful, don’t want you straining anything,” she says, placing her hands on your arms to help you. You nod at her, still trying to wake back up. Your eyes hurt from crying and your head is throbbing again. You really don’t want to talk right now, but you know you have to if you want to get out of here. 

“You know why I’m here?” the woman asks gently. Her name tag reads Chloe. She looks a bit older than you and has the most beautiful green eyes you’ve ever seen. You decide you like her. 

You nod, then realize it’s probably better to be verbal. “Yes,” you tell her. 

She nods understandingly, rubbing your upper arm in a comforting motion. “I’ve been told you’d like your husband to stay in the room while we talk?”

You confirm again, glancing at Javi, who seems to still be in whatever state he was earlier. 

“Alright, I’m just going to ask you a few questions, and then we’ll get you out of here. Sound good?” 

You nod, swallowing the thickness in your throat. “You mind if I sit?” Chloe asks, gesturing to the side of your bed. You shake your head no and she makes herself comfortable, clipboard in her lap. She doesn’t even look at Javi, which relaxes you a bit. Her sole focus is you.

“I know it’s not going to be easy, but I promise to be patient. You can take all the time you need. Are you ready?” 

“I’m ready,” you reply before you change your mind about doing this with Javi. 

“Okay. Can you tell me how you tried to take your life last Friday? In as much detail as you’re comfortable with.” 

You take a deep breath, force yourself to not look at your husband, and pray you don’t mess this up. 

“I tried to drown myself,” you lie quietly. “I tied a scarf around my neck and attached it to a weight. Then I filled the sink with water—.” You have to pause, emotion hitting you hard all of a sudden. You blink and swallow the lump in your throat. “I filled the sink with water and threw the weight in.” 

Chloe nods somberly, watching you with the same pitying look the doctor had earlier. “It’s okay to cry, honey. It’s a hard thing to talk about. You’re very brave for doing so.”

You listen to her, bowing your head and letting your tears overflow. They’re slower than the ones you’d cried with Javi. More quiet. They feel more like defeat than grief. Chloe writes something down and looks back at you. 

“And why did you feel like that was the best way to achieve what you were trying to do?” 

You bite your lip, contemplating for a second. “Because I knew it would work over everything else. I thought it would.”

She jots something down.  

“There are no firearms in your house?” 

“Only mine, and it stays on me all day,” Javi provides before you can say anything. Chloe whips her head around to him. 

“Did I ask for your input?” 

“No,” you say, before whatever just happened could escalate. The last thing you need right now is Javi getting angry. “Just his.” 

She turns back to you, gentleness returning to her face. She again scribbles something down. 

“Two more,” she tells you. “We’re almost done. You’re doing really well.” 

You nod at her, giving her a small smile. 

“Do you wish you had succeeded? Why or why not?” 

You answer quickly, maybe a little too quickly. You hate the way you still feel like you’re lying when you tell her no. “I was just overwhelmed that night. I was lucky that Javi came home when he did.” 

She nods, writes something down, and asks you the last one. 

“You’re not going to try to take your life again?” 

“I’m not. I don’t want to die.” It almost hurts to have to say it. You don’t even know if that’s true. You put on a brave face though, needing her to believe it even if you don’t. 

She writes the last thing down and smiles at you. “Okay, I’m going to go talk to some staff and get you ready to go home. It was very nice to meet you. I hope things go well in your future.” She holds her hand out for you to shake, and you do. 

“Thank you, it was nice to meet you, too,” you tell her honestly. 

You wait to hear the click of the door before you look at Javi. He doesn’t look angry exactly, but you can tell he didn’t like Chloe at all. But he still nods approvingly at you, taking your hand again. 

“You did good, sweetheart,” he says. 

***** A couple of nurses come in about an hour later to take you out to Javi’s truck. They watch as he helps you in, waves his thanks, and gets in the driver’s side. You cuddle up next to him like you used to, and a calm feeling starts to ebb its way into you. He holds you tight the entire way back to the apartment, and after cooking you dinner, holds you tight as you fall asleep.  This. This is why you stay.

*****

What are we thinkin'? 👀

Series taglist: @corazondebeskar @yorksgirl @nerdieforpedro @axshadows @melaninmommy

@survivingandenduring @kewwrites @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @missladym1981 @sofiparallel

@koshkaj-blog @sheepdogchick3 @movievillainess721 @jessie8605 @casa-boiardi

@justlulu @iamsherlocked-1998 @hjzghi-blog @glitterymanboy @letstalkaboutshtufff

@untamedheart81 @1nsommia @joelmillersblog

[damagedcoda6669]

hope you dont mind the ask, was just kinda curious ^^

what was your mindset in coming back to the internet and did you expect the kind of reaction that you got?

i wasnt expecting the positive response AT ALL. coming back my mindset was something liek "im only doing this so i can post my art again, im only doing this becuz im passionate abt my artwork. nobodys gonna believe me and im sure only a handful of ppl r gonna be rational abt this whole thing, and im gonna have 2 deal with a mob of ppl out 2 get me and another mob who wants 2 sexualize me and stalk me, but if i can post my artwork and just ignore it itll be fine."

and then i posted my vid and every1 was so sympathetic and understanding and pleasant 2 me. ive nevr experienced that kind of basic humanity b4 on the internet, and it was shocking. every1 was so nice abt my struggles with abuse and homelessness inparticular, which was honestly an afterthought in my comeback vid becuz i didnt think any1 would care. i didnt expect anything close 2 the reaction i got, and it gave me a lot of hope and peace. i felt safe posting online 4 the first time.

i cant say that i still feel the same, after the borderline 12 situation happening only 6 days after my vid ive basically been retraumatized and have severe anxiety surrounding the internet again. it was my fault and was incredibly disrespectful, hurtful, and wrong, i will never deny that i was wrong in the first place and did something horrible. but the sheer harassment and dogpiling wasnt warranted and was arguably worse than what i did 2 begin with. it was blown out of proportion and it only took 6 days 4 every1 2 stop liking me and treating me like a person. that situation made me realize that despite the overwhelming positivity that i received, there will always be so many ppl who want 2 take it away from me, who want 2 make the internet unsafe 4 me again, who want 2 see my downfall. i wont let them win, i will ALWAYS strive 2 want 2 be the best person i can be and better myself everyday, i will ALWAYS want 2 learn from my mistakes and improve. but knowing this, posting again feels liek walking on eggshells.

2 summarize.. i have vry mixed feelings abt the internet as of rn. im so so so so so so so grateful 4 the support and i love all of u, but i know that it could be taken away from me at any minute due 2 something that i will nevr foresee. i nevr come online with the intention 2 be problematic or controversial or hateful, i just liek posting art!!! i would nevr do something offensive or hurtful on purpose, but im scared of doing it by accident again.

didnt think thisd be so long!!! or venty!!! i need 2 talk less mayb.. lol ^^;

[aachria]

I have MANY things to say about chapter 96 so this is gonna be long-ish but you deserve every word of praise I'm about to type so buckle the fuckle up.

First of all, the dance scene with Usopp and then Luffy? Great, spectacular, outstanding, the way Ed understands Luffy so well like THAT is my otp and I am so fucking proud of them.

SECOND OF ALL. SANJI. Not only do you give that boy a scene tackling his bisexual (gay?) awakening but also a little platonic smooch that he so desperately needed? And then you give us ART of that scene? It feels so good but also I'm crying. Side note, Sanji definitely smokes Pall Malls, I can smell them from here.

Third of all, you write Brook so, so well. All I could get from him talking about Yorkie was that those two were SO attached to each other and Brook sees so much of himself AND Yorkie in Ed and wants to make sure they're happy so so bad. I want to be him when I grow up.

And that Nami scene. *chef's kiss* magnificent. Ed may have left a sister behind when that Honda Civic hip checked them into a different reality but they definitely got a new one in Nami.

Anyway that's all I had to say, congrats on Ed being compared to the legend himself Jeremiah Cross, toodles

Buckle the fuckle up is, respectfully, fucking hilarious.

I LOVE ED AND LUFFY. They are two halves of the same idiot with complete opposite types of smart. They round each other off but also make each other stupider, 10/10 dynamic.

I struggled immense with drawing that kiss let me tell you. But like goddamnit I wanted art of it so I was damn well gonna fight through making it. Sidenote I’m a full supporter of the bi Sanji agenda. Just fyi.

I honestly didn’t think I’d have near as much fun writing Brook as I do. He is the silly old grandpa who is also your bestie you visit in the nursing home. I try to balance that with the off putting shit every so often because yes you SHOULD remember that’s a cryptid. I don’t think Yorkie gets the hype he deserves in canon, that mf was ride or (literally) die ok put some respect on his name. Just a music lovin guy livin his life.

As always absolutely adore Nami and her and Ed are such a special duo.

Thank you bestie xoxo

[fandomfreakstudios]

Caine is a human and I will die on this hill (theory)

due to popular demand (losing the poll) I wanna post my Caine theory in proper depth.

Fair warning: I know too much about AI and Game Development so if any of my jargon is too inaccessible for anyone I'm perfectly willing to elaborate in the comments! :D

My theory is essentially the idea that Caine is not an AI but is in fact a human trapped in the digital circus just as much as all the other players.

Sounds ridiculous, right?

good.

[LONG post incoming, be warned]

----------

To start, we need to understand the digital circus and its origins.

a place like the digital circus is very likely to be man-made as a place, a game, a computer program, whatever. This place did not appear out of nowhere. It is accessed through VR or some VR-esque technology, and takes on the appearance of a retro game (evidence given below)

Now, video games (unfortunately) don’t just code themselves, there has to be at the very least one person creating this game. Fortunately enough, we can deduce the name of the company from what is given within the show.

It is very common knowledge at this point that digital circus takes place within a computer in some sort of office building (as is implied by the ending scene in episode 1)

This computer is also seen at another point... namely when Pomni is running through the backrooms-like offices. She once again comes across this computer.

Now this implies that this area is at least SOMEWHAT a reflection of the real world, so analyzing this location isn't inherently pointless. Now one other interesting part of this office area is the logo on the wall, which reads "C & A" which people have unanimously agreed to mean Caine and Abel

The important thing about this is that Caine as a concept is somehow connected to the person who created this game, through the founder choosing to name Caine after the company, or vice versa. Now you could easily argue that the company was named after Caine, or Caine acts as a self insert for the creator, but I am here to argue that maybe Caine IS the creator.

More specifically, Caine is an original creator of the game (not necessarily the sole creator) aka the amazing digital circus, and in testing an incomplete game managed to get himself trapped, as does any other player who chooses to attempt to play.

----------

Looking back at episode 1 there is something interesting for us to think about. Caine attempting to create an exit door, but being unable to figure out what to put on the other side.

Now this could very easily be interpreted as Caine being unable, as an AI who's only knowledge is of what's within the game, to imagine anything outside of it, and therefore fumbling the task. This is a reasonable interpretation, this was MY first interpretation, and it honestly adds so much horror to the episode on a first watch through.

But in all honesty that still leaves a lot unexplained.

The question still remains why Caine, as a struggling AI, would choose to create something like what he did. From his perspective he has never seen anything as dreary as these office buildings, nor does this space make any semblance of sense as Caine's environments tend to do. It seems less like something a well-polished AI would create, and more like what a human would come up with when trying to create something from a distant memory.

That's something incredibly important to keep in mind going forward. If Caine is in fact human, he would have been trapped in the digital circus for a LONG time, with it becoming increasingly difficult to recall his human memories (something it is confirmed humans trapped in the circus can recall). at the very least, longer then Kinger, who is clearly very mentally effected by his time at the circus.

Caine would likely also be showing some level of insanity or mental instability if he had been trapped with no escape for this long (and yes I do believe that he also cannot leave, and I have some evidence later down the line that will explain this perspective), and he hasn't been seen to do this at all, right? Well, I think he is, but it manifests a little differently then Kinger, or anyone else for that matter. Keep this in mind as we go forward.

----------

Caine's purpose within the circus is fairly straightforward. He is the ringmaster, he creates daily adventures akin to ttrpg oneshots, and he exists to essentially guide the player through this video game world.

Now in the event that Caine was a human who was pulled into the game, why would he need to fill this role? Even as a dev he should still be playtesting as, well, a player. I believe that at the time of the dev's entrapment, the ringmaster AI had not been programmed into the game.

Y'see the Caine we know is a MAJOR perfectionist. He neeeever likes anyone seeing his unfinished work, kinda odd for an AI within a game to be embarrassed about. Yeah, he's a generative AI that creates locations, but creating something in multiple steps is something an AI cannot do. Furthermore, an AI should not feel "embarrassed" about it's work, AI by virtue is always 100% convinced what it generates is perfect, or else it wouldn't have generated it like that.

Also, if we're working under the assumption that the backrooms-esque offices were just an AI hallucination or bad generation, why would Caine KNOW it's not what his players are looking for? For a dev however, this makes sense.

Caine also has a lot of other actions that, as an AI require a bit if suspension of disbelief, but make tons more sense if he's actually a human, and furthermore a dev.

As mentioned, perfectionism, not wanting people to see incomplete or unpolished areas of the game

Realistic depictions of emotions (frustration, embarrassment, confusion)

Annoyance at Bubble for being a sucky AI (her swearing, interrupting him, inhuman and unrealistic speaking patterns and behaviors)

the need to "Reuse AI" which, if the characters are all AI created by other AI would be unnecessary because AI generating would take Caine no effort. Nor should a generative AI ever run out of ideas.

As mentioned, perfectionism, not wanting people to see incomplete or unpolished areas of the game

Realistic depictions of emotions (frustration, embarrassment, confusion)

Annoyance at Bubble for being a sucky AI (her swearing, interrupting him, inhuman and unrealistic speaking patterns and behaviors)

the need to "Reuse AI" which, if the characters are all AI created by other AI would be unnecessary because AI generating would take Caine no effort. Nor should a generative AI ever run out of ideas.

I wanna highlight that, while this is a joke post, I am enjoying the implication that Caine has a name (something only a human would have)

(top right is a particularly interesting example of him just acting super human and "dropping the act" so to speak. Getting distracted, stuttering, losing track of the conversation, all that. And bottom right is similar as he is nervously fidgeting).

Caine has all the fixings of a human dev, trapped in his now incomplete game. A game that had not had it's "ringmaster" character implemented at this point in development, likely with nothing more then some competed (albeit unpolished) locations for the game.

The idea Caine is actually a dev as opposed to an AI is further supported by Caine's ability to create and alter things from within the game. Creating areas without human prompt, deleting characters, he seems to have a level of autonomy and intelligence that no AI should EVER have.

----------

Furthermore, the man ACTS human, a weird ass human, but a human nonetheless. He's responsive, emotive, emotional, and he's not nearly as glitchy as the other AI. He never slips up and activates some sort of internal filter like bubble, or insists on weird mannerisms like the moon or the sun, he seems to just KNOW better somehow.

He acts like the more "immersive AI" from ep2 if anything, which he's clearly been around longer than. Someone needed to program that AI, and based on previous patterns is implied to be Caine. Once again, way out of his job description as another AI (plus how would this AI be MORE realistic if it was learning from another, older AI).

Not to mention the fact he's ALWAYS around somewhere, whether he's in his own realm he made, or just chilling around the circus (unlike bubble for example, who comes and goes at Caine's will).

It's clear he does this for his own comfort, but WHY would he be programmed to do that as opposed to only existing when necessary to prioritize memory or something.

----------

But one would be right to say he's slightly... off. He is a strange one, if he was a human. He's erratic, unpredictable, and often manic at times. This goes back to the point I made with Kinger, where I claimed Caine should also be exhibiting signs of mental illness

Under the assumption that Caine, in the act of playtesting the game, got trapped, a handful of things would happen (the finer details are negotiable, this is just my knee-jerk reaction):

He'd realize what happened and that he can't get out

He likely felt as though he was in his own personal hell, as he was trapped in a scuffed, incomplete skeleton of his own passion project

He likely found some sort of way to alter stuff, a backdoor that only he as the creator knew about, or some sort of privilege in being the first to enter the realm

He got his first or first few players. This was probably alarming to him as there was no ringmaster, no worlds, nothing. All the AI he had created thus far had been poorly made and could not function which such a difficult task. But then he realized... HE could be the ringmaster

This is probably around the time as well that he realized he could not remember his own name. But he remembered what he wanted to call the ringmaster... Caine

He takes on the identity of Caine, acting as ringmaster, polishing the game behind the scenes, and creating daily activities on an "as needed" basis

----------

Now this is where it gets interesting. I believe, at this point, Caine has taken on the identity of this AI generated ringmaster for so long that he's beginning to lose himself. He's beginning to lose memories of his life, he's becoming more detached from the side of himself that ISN'T Caine, and he's starting to catch himself believing he IS Caine, he IS an AI.... and he's scared

He's completely lost the ability to create any meaningful connections with others, as he needs to keep up the illusion of being an AI. He's lost his humanity, become detached from the way other humans think and feel, and its starting to make him become more AI then human if anything.

(left image does not crop nice, plz click to view the whole thing TvT)

He's probably seen at least a dozen people lose their mind in so many different ways. While he knows he's different then them, TECHNICALLY he's still a player, and can abstract all the same. This is why he seemed to freak the HELL out at the idea of an AI and a human getting mixed up.

----------

One last bit, and it's a simple one I promise. Caine has been described as the main antagonist outside of the show. This is interesting as up until now Caine hasn't done anything actively malicious (aside from Gummigoo, but he seemed to have solid reasoning for that, just not anything he chose to share with the audience).

[does ANYONE have the "weight of Caine's sins?" tumblr ask I am having no luck finding it again]

At this point, this would be shooting the messenger. He is simply a byproduct of the system that is keeping these folks trapped, right? Caine himself didn't put them there, he just takes care of them.

Unless... Caine was the one who made the AI. Then he would inarguably be the reason everyone else was trapped there. And goose is right, that wouldn't make him an AWFUL person either, but he does still have many sins weighing on his back, and many deaths on his hands. And there's nothing he can do about any of it, because he's just as helpless as they are.

----------

So yeah, TLDR: Caine was the creator of the circus. In attempting to playtest he got trapped in the game and eventually took the initiative to play the ringmaster within his own game, but he is slowly beginning to lose his mind, as happens to everyone.

Hope you all enjoyed the read! If anyone's still interested at this point I have a few more small bits of evidence (more from outside the show on Goose's socials and whatnot) which I could not fit in the bulk of the theory. I'll reblog with some extra bits so this post is still complete but I don't break the flow of my main ideas.

And if you get this far, thank you so much. I don't typically post long form theories like this but if this gets any sort of traction I definitely will begin too.

[p0pcorn-hearts]

It's Kawaii~Chan time

I am gonna ramble about my rewrite so yknow, enter the theater with caution

I just wanna start off by saying I renamed her to Hanami, which is the Japanese word for flowers viewing, more specifically viewing cherry blossoms. I figured this fit her more "cutesy" design as well as her usually pink and white color pallette. Also excuse me if they look bad, these were made a bit ago and I, for some reason, decided it'd be best to use the mirror tool the entire time

So, for her Phoenix Drop High uniform I just redesigned the uniform and gave her the same every girl will have. I changed it to have a blazer and a longer skirt like actual school uniforms in America although I kept the socks, loafers, and bow because those all fit, I'm just also giving everyone the same pair of socks.

Her season 1 outfit has been drastically changed. I decided I wanted her to have a more lolita-esque style instead of just vaguely cute, and let's all be real here, her season 1 outfit sucked. So, I gave her a longer, puffier skirt, a shit ton of ruffles, and some cute gloves. I think now is also the time to have a little fun fact section about meif'was. Their nails and hair grow faster than humans, with their nails growing than both humans and werewolves. That's why Hanami has long nails and freakishly long hair

Next up is her adorable Love~Love Paradise outfit. I'm actually super happy with how it turned out and I'm in love with her little buns. Her bathing suit with all its ruffles was made up by me :D

Her Lover's Lane outfit is the one that went the most unchanged because it's honestly my favorite outfit of her's. It just looks the most visually appealing with the addition of dark pink being a primary color. I just changed the dress up a bit with the neckline and added ruffles

Starlight is honestly my favorite. There's just something about color block clothes that itches a scratch in my brain. The giant bow and see-through ruffles also added a lot. You cannot thank me though, I took this design from someone else's swimsuit. Her nails changing for the first time since season 1 and now having blue with the pink is also a nice nod to how she opens up to Zane about not really being herself

When Angels Fall. Oh God, When Angels Fall. I fucking *hate* their "disguises" in When Angels Fall. Buy I'll get into that later, right now, it's just Hanami. I didn't like her outfit much because she had literally never worn pants in the series before and to just suddenly toss her in a pair of jeans and t-shirt? Like it's supposed to show how drap everything is but why would she just have a t-shirt and jeans packed?? Starlight is an island resort and theme park, so most people will be wearing bathing suits, much more breathable fabrics than *jeans* and Starlight merch. That's why I gave her a different bathing suit bottom and a Starlight shirt. It's the least you can do when you're the most visually distinct character. She also is covered in bandages because cats, when stressed, will over groom and can injure themselves. So Hanami picks and scratches at her skin often due to stress so she has very chipped nail polish and is covered in bandages. Also she cut her hair (sad violin noises)

Her final outfit is for my "season 7". Jess hasn't made it but I want to eventually tie up my rewrite, so I'm making one. Me and my girlfriend refer to it as the "epilogue" although it's not really an epilogue, she just called it that once and I can't think of a better name. I gave her essentially a mix of her season 1 and Lover's Lane outfits because why not

Now that her designs are done I get to infodump about her personality (hehe)

She's basically the same as Kawaii~Chan, but I make her a better person. She doesn't manipulate Aphmau into joined her bakesale! She also tones down a lot, so while she still struggles with boundaries, especially when it comes to shipping, she doesn't have a fucking shipping shrine in her basement. She's also autistic in my rewrite, so her not getting boundaries, baking being her special interest, and her masking her behavior to fit what she thinks people want/expect of her all comes from that. Will I maybe end up projecting on her? With the shipping stuff yeah, but only because Aphmau and Kawaii~Chan made me think shipping people together until they stopped being friends with you was normal

So thats it, the exit to the theater is on the right, make sure to throw your trash away on the way out. Have a good day

[fuckmyskywalker]

insane Luke thought coming through. Luke being a little manipulative with you but still subby right, with two fingers in your tight little hole as he teases your sweet spot hard and fast, begging to be allowed to fuck you, begging to be allowed to put his pretty cock inside mommy, and every time you tell him not now, he stops fingering you the way you need and swears his cock would feel soooo much better instead if only you’d let him :(

18+, smut, sub!Luke, mommy kink, fingering, slight manhandling.

Okay I never write for Luke (not as much as would like, honestly). This has been sitting on my inbox forever so I apologize </3

“Don't you think my cock would feel better?” He whines, curving his fingers, so the tips can rub your g-spot. His lips nuzzle against your neck, breathy, hot voice erupting goosebumps on your skin.

"Luke," You warn him, struggling to keep the authority in your voice. He has no business with those skilled fingers of his, you want to keep him grounded, but it's turning difficult when he uses the heel of his palm to rub your clit. "You said— said you wanted to make me feel good."

"I know what I said, mommy," He pouts, kissing that spot below your ear. "But I can't wait. It's been so long since I fucked you."

"Luke, I said—"

Then he stops. The sudden cut of stimulation makes your hips jerk and your eyebrows furrow. Pretty boy really thinks he did something. Luke smiles, imagining that by edging you he'd get what he wanted sooner.

How wrong he is.

Reaching for his blonde hair, you yank his head back, enjoying the pained moan that escapes his chapped lips. Luke whines again, submissively lying down. His blue eyes roll back when you push his face against the pillows and promptly straddle his lap, making sure to rub the length of his hard cock between your folds.

"Didn't I told you to wait?" You ask him. He nods, immediately realizing his mistake; he shouldn't have rushed you. "Are you that fucking horny you can't think about anything else besides getting your pathetic cock wet?"

"I'm sorry!" He gasps, looking between his legs and biting his lower lip, watching how you guide him where he so desperately needed to be inside. "I'm sorry, Mommy. I didn't mean to upset you."

"But you did— and now you will come as many times I want, and I don't care if it hurts."

[eddiediazismyhusband]

It was an interview full of "right now" and "at this moment" from both Ryan and Tim. I'm genuinely wondering why the freak out from everyone? Interviews are always, ALWAYS, answered and arranged for the current episode/arc. People do know that right? No one, even the PR dorks that are Oliver and Ryan, are ever going to say "so yeah, Eddie is going to propose to his girlfriend but have a near death experience near the season finale that will change everything and he will shout his love for Buck." That interview is literally never going to happen. And honestly him proposing makes a ton of sense from a story standpoint. It's technically everything he claims he wants, so how does Eddie react when things still don't feel right? If the storyline is headed toward a relationship with Buck, and it genuinely does feel like that, Eddie seemingly getting everything he's ever wanted and still feeling off is the perfect introduction to that. I'm stupidly stunned every time by the unhinged break downs after every fucking interview.

To be fair, anxiety is a very real issue for a lot of people (me being one of them, it doesn’t take much to send me spiraling) and in fact i am a catastrophizer… i see something and immediately jump to the worst conclusions about it and only then do i sit back and put thought into it.

I don’t like to post when i’m catastrophizing because all it does is stirs even more panic and anxiety, but others find it easier to post their panic/spiraling so that hopefully others may he able to offer a different point of view to talk them down from their panic. mental health is one bicth of a human condition.

so while yes, it is definitely jarring to see people panicking, i try to remain gracious to those who are spiraling because i understand the panic that sets in and the urgency for someone to tell you that everything is okay.

as far as knowing the ins and outs of how television and pr works; unfortunately a lot of people are not educated on how things like this go because we live in an age where weekly episodic releases like this are becoming less and less common as binge culture has become the hot commodity, especially for streaming services. with that there comes a level of misunderstanding of how the industry works and has worked in the past, especially for a younger audience. so a lot of viewers are used to having the whole story handed to them all at once, rather than the intensive speculation and uncertainty that comes with network tv.

i myself having worked in film and theatre have firsthand experience with PR and the media and how to keep things under wraps (i am by NO WAY an insider, i have worked on student/college/indie films and have had zero involvement in the commercial film industry) and i STILL sometimes struggle from that initial shock of reading something that seemingly doesn’t bode well for what you want to see from a television show.

so all of that to say is i understand it can be jarring and at times even annoying to see the catastrophizing and spiraling, but it helps me to step back and take a breath to remind myself to give some grace to people who may not have as much of an understanding of how things like this work as i do.

thank you for the ask anon!! Apologies for the long reply, i just wanted to discuss this bc i have a lot of my own thoughts on it! 💕

[dimonds456]

It is not okay to speculate whether or not someone is suicidal. If they claim to be, you should 100% take that shit seriously and give them the benefit of the doubt.

That said, if someone is using their own suicidality as a weapon to gain sympathy, emotionally manipulate someone, or to push other people down, GENUINELY fuck that person. While it's not okay for us to doubt that statement just because they're weaponizing it, that also doesn't mean we need to ALLOW that manipulation to convince us of something.

If you feel the need to use your terrible mental health as a step-stool in a conversation to make your side more heard than the other, you need to take a step back and re-evaluate yourself. And I am saying this as someone who ALSO has shit mental health and has been in the trenches with it before. I get it. I understand. But also STOP.

It's tempting to want to save your own ass over recognizing where you've gone wrong, but just a word of advise: recognizing where you've gone wrong WILL save your ass and give you better mental health and wisdom down the line.

However, emotionally manipulating people absolutely will not.

[dynjir]

Memory Lane

Part 1 of 2

[Next]

---

Initially this was just going to be a series of really rough sketches, but the more I stared at it, the more it kept growing..?

I have no concept of reasonable project scopes <:'D