#need more darksided shit like this

[zeb-z]

no okay bc Vhaeraun coming along doing the whole big bad thing - showing he has power and flexing it in both an attempt to put despair over the party and an attempt to split them apart, and then offering them something to tempt them to his side in a sense. of course he offered Argentum knowledge - especially crucial to them because it’s personal knowledge about their family, their parents. but what’s interesting is what he offered Zephrael. he didn’t offer power, nor strength, or anything else along the lines of what he should seek as a member of the reformed church, or what we might think he would find the most difficult to resist. of all the things to try and ‘turn him to the dark side’, so to speak, he was offered redemption

[stealingpotatoes]

can we get a rundown on the anakin-raises-leia au? i’m totally in love with (read: obsessed with) it but i missed most of the context and i’m so curious!

are they coparenting? was it a parent trap style agreement to split the twins? is it temporary, until the war ends? who decided who gets which twin? did mustafar just never happen?

the answers to ur questions in short are: not really, arguably, absolutely, i did, and no!

in longer, the main thing you need to know for context is it's an Anakin-doesn't-turn-to-the-darkside-but-Palps-still-succeeds AU!

Anakin chooses not to try save Palpatine from the Jedi council and instead goes to Padmé's to angst abt the fact he might be losing her -- only to feel a very solid Other loss in the Force and see the temple up in flames ): he tries to go help but gets his shit kicked enough he leaves when Bail shows up

obi-wan and yoda both return to coruscant, obi-wan shows up to Padmé's to ask her hey do you know where Anakin is??? except Padmé's not there either bc after Sidious made his Big Speech anidala realised Anakin's totally a fugitive so they decided to Leave

i'm not 100% on what happens around here (lbr we all know my focus is the kids) but i'm currently thinking they nearly get caught or smthn, fight happens (??), Obi-wan gets there just in time to help thanks to Dormé snitching -- and Padmé goes into labour w the shock/stress

whatever exactly happens, Obi-Wan is there when they get Padmé to a medical station and the normal rots ending group unite. Padmé gives birth (keeping her will to live) and a question hangs heavy in the air: what are they supposed to do with the twins?

Anidala are too caught up in the joy of being parents to think about it, but they're quickly and forcibly snapped out of that when the Survivors all have a chat like canon. Yoda's the (brave) one to say they need to be apart because their force signatures would be too strong together and in the dire case Palps finds them, he could NOT take both. He's probs initially like they shouldnt even be kept w you two, Anakin's too powerful himself and Padmé you're too visible (while I imagine Bail and Obi-wan know their respective besties and are like king they are NOT gonna take that well)

and theyre right! Padmé, fresh out of like three of the top ten most harrowing experiences of her life, is like stfu u little green bitch im not losing my kids. but after some convincing she sees the need for her to remain in the senate and anakin's need to fight/run. she knows they can't fight the empire effectively together and she knows it's too dangerous to put the twins together. both parents want more than ANYTHING to be with their kids -- but they also don't want their kids growing up in a galaxy eaten by tyranny or being stolen by palps.

so they made the hardest goddamn decision of their lives and each take a twin (probably chosen on "anakin thought the baby'd be a girl/padme thought it'd be a boy" or smthn) and after some time planning their next moves, Padmé and Anakin are forced to go their separate ways to save the galaxy for and with their kids ): knowing the better they fight, the sooner they free the galaxy from the empire's clutches, the sooner they can reunite and be a family

[eoieopda]

problem | myg

pairing: min yoongi x darksided!reader summary: yoongi’s got a problem, and she’s dressed like elvira hancock. type: drabble, suggestive fluff (?) au: darksided; halloween; established relationship rating: 18+ (minors do not have my consent to interact) word count: 1k cw: yoongi’s on his tony montana, more money/more problem shit shit; afab!reader dressed as female character (elvira hancock); no smut but definitely suggestive thoughts/statements; kissin’, gropin’, nibblin’. a/n: happy halloween! i didn’t plan this, lmao. this is partly to commemorate the one-year anniversary of the darksided series. you don’t need to have read the series to read this drabble, but context is fun 😌

For the past eight years, Halloween has been spent on the couch, eating candy straight out of a party-sized bag and watching movies. A low-key holiday for low-key people, both of whom prefer going to bed at a reasonable hour over getting stupid into the wee hours of the morning. 

It’s been your favorite holiday for the better part of a decade for that reason — the lack of pressure and commotion, as well as the guarantee of quality time spent in the comfort of sweatpants. It’s nice, doing fuck all with the person you love doing nothing and everything with. Nobody has ever caught you complaining; and they never will.

This year, to your shock and awe, Yoongi bucked your expectations for the millionth consecutive time. Not only did he RSVP “yes” to a Halloween party, he decided that you would both attend in costume.

Apparently, one of the multitudes he contains kind of likes the idea of coordinating outfits with you.

You damn near fell over when he brought his idea to you in the first place; but now that he’s kneeling in front of you, dressed in a white suit and a torturously unbuttoned red button-up, you’re struggling to stay upright for an entirely different reason.

“Left foot,” he murmurs, gesturing to one of the legs you have dangling off the edge of the bed.

You oblige, resting your bare foot on his thigh. Silently, you watch while he slips your heel onto your foot, lips pursed in concentration as he deals with the tiny buckle on the ankle strap.

It shouldn’t fuck you up to see his fingers moving deftly, doing something this mundane, but it does. 

Makes you want to blow off this party and spend the night with those hands instead.

God. 

Those hands.

Their gentle grip on your ankle, the glint of his rings in the lamplight, the slender length of —

“Jagiya.”

Yoongi is smiling slightly when his words nudge you back to reality with a jolt. If that smirk tells you anything, it’s that he’s called out to you at least once before. All you do is squeak in response; your brain is a bit too scrambled to think of better.

And he knows it, too.

Bastard.

Slowly, he shifts your heel off his thigh. To emphasize his instruction, he taps your right ankle lightly. “Right foot, jagi.” 

You’re boneless but acquiesce, nonetheless. 

Then, he has the audacity to say, “Good girl,” with his fingertips brushing softly over your bare skin, and you may as well black the fuck out. No part of the moments that follow registers in your mind; you may as well have lost it.

When Yoongi demands your attention the second time, he doesn’t bother with pet names. He leans slightly forward to where the high slit of your dress leaves a knee exposed, presses a kiss to the piece of you on display, and keeps his lips there just a fraction of a second longer than necessary.

“All set,” he says innocently, as if there’s anything angelic about the way he’s looking at you.

Dark eyes match the dark hair he’s pushed back off his forehead, and there’s a wickedness to them that you’ve never successfully ignored — not once in eight years.

“Ready to go?”

You make some unintelligible noise in response that you can’t parse yourself. Just like always, Yoongi manages to find the meaning you’re unable to locate; and he pushes himself to his feet. Two hands extend to help you do the same, and — just like always — you take them, no hesitation.

When you stand on unsteady legs, teal silk slips down the length of you and falls back into place with a flourish, fanning out at your ankles. Yoongi pauses, drinks in the sight of you like he’s drowning. He hums appreciatively to himself before reaching up to brush synthetic, blonde hair off your cheek.

“We’re running late,” he eventually notes. 

Neither of you makes a single move towards the door. It’s only his arm that moves, hand dropping from your face to skim over the fabric covering your waist, hugging the curve of it. You shiver, although it doesn’t have a damn thing to do with the way your dress is cut.

“Michelle Pfeiffer’s got nothing on you.”

You swallow hard, going tense all over.

An hour passes in a second.

“Have I told you that I love this dress?”

You’re crawling out of your skin, vibrating on a frequency only Yoongi can hear. Fuck this dress, fuck this party, fuck me. Even though you don’t verbalize any of it, you know that he knows.

His eyes flick down your frame like he’s weighing what he wants against what he’s obligated to. Like he’s starving, and he’s searching for permission to sate his appetite.

There’s no weight to your voice when you say, “So, take it off,” but it hits him heavy. You feel the force of it when his hands grip your ass and pull you close. Chest to chest, it’s present in your heartbeat, too; thudding violently with anticipation.

He repeats himself, voice low, “We’re running late.”

But his actions tell you that he doesn’t give a shit about the clock. His mouth finds the skin beneath your jaw, and the heat of his breath warms your neck in the seconds before his lips do. At first, it’s just a kiss. 

Then, it’s a whisper.

“Really late.”

Then, it’s the faint graze of his teeth when he nips at you, followed by the flick of his tongue, eager to soothe the sting.

“We can be later,” he muses on an exhale, as if either of you needs to be convinced. His grip on your ass tightens just enough to pull a whimper out of you. “What do you think, Elvira?”

Your brain has liquified with the rest of you, but you summon the strength to run your fingertips along the edges of his lapel. “Tony,” you start with a sigh.

“Hmm?” He hums, mouth too busy to form words.

You grip those lapels and push him slightly backwards, interrupting his ministrations in order to look him dead in the eyes. Loving the challenge, he smirks back at you with one eyebrow arched expectantly.

“One of us’ll die if you don’t kiss me for real, and it won’t necessarily be me.”

Just like always, Yoongi only needs to be told once.

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[wordy-little-witch]

I am now hip deep in the Edge of Midnight campaign from legends of avantris and lemme tell you some shit -

1) I would lay down my life for Jericho Sticks without any hesitation. Torbek and Jericho are my sons now, no takesies backsies.

2) Lethica and Marius are so perfectly aligned to be end game lovers but I personally adore the idea of them being queerplatonic if only bc it's funny to watch people be confused and I think Lethica would adore that.

3) you can pry the concept of Briggsy having a some kind of magical fantasy cellphone equivalent from my cold dead hands - sending stone or smth idfk - and he's been keeping his buddy/boyfriend Torbek updated on all this like "Becky you would not BELIEVE what happened today-" ((listen I know the flirting bit between them in the yuletide one-shot was a feycurse but leave me alone it's funny as fuck))

4) briggsy @ jericho in ep 24 appropos nothing: Jerry, maybe we have to kiss ((sad, silly twinks with Literal Darksides are his type /j))

5) I have a friend-crush on Nikkie and I will never recover

6) I have an unyielding NEED to have Jericho get a final hit on a boss and yell yeehaw

7) I know stylistically Jericho doesn't have "skin" but I personally hc that his clothes aren't effectively his skin, he has a burlap body - and he has "tattoos" in the form of embroidery. It started when he had to stitch up his own cuts and stuff and he just kept it up.

8) Only Yorgrim has any constant sense of cooking in an actual kitchen-like setting. Farryn, Marius, and Briggsy can do journey or on-the-road cooking, but it's never.... great. Lethica burns everything somehow or gets the bright idea to 'experiment', and it's never good - she's fine if she's got clear end goals. Jericho is understandably skittish around fire due to his body and straw, but he is the closest to being able to cook well and do so semi regularly.

9) Virgil is a weird mix of a hater and lowkey overprotective. He does hate being imprisoned, but also he's kinda bound here so he HAS to keep this disaster of a bard safe. He refuses to admit he might have a soft spot. He is Stressed.

10) Farryn doesn't get the appeal of Girls Nights, but Jericho does!!! They join Lethica for some fun relaxation. Briggsy once asked why Jericho was allowed since he's also a dude, and Lethica just responded "he's allowed to be there - on account of him being a scarecrow and not a literal man after all." It's an inside joke which later has to be explained - Jericho is nonbinary but doesn't rightly care about stuff like that.

11) Yorgrim is the group dad, no I will not explain.

12) sometimes after a battle, Lethica and Marius will help stitch up some of Jericho's tears. Farryn may also add in random flowers she finds around because it makes him happy.

13) Briggsy is small but mighty. The only person he has yet to pick up and carry is Yorgrim - he swears that one day that tombstone will be gone and he'll be able to do it. It's all the rock's fault, he's sure of it.

Spoilers under the cut (caught up to present)

OKAY so I am caught up completely and have decided that Canon is not important leave me alone

• Yorgrim did not die - he got wounded heavily but survived.

• Farryn almost got taken but they got to her in time. She is mute for a time due to injuries and trauma - idk if she ever talks again bc we could use more sign language in the world. Maybe it comes and goes, fuck if I know, idk and idc

ONWARDS TO SILLIES

• Lethica strong armed her way into giving Jericho The Talk after he revealed he had no idea what a penis was. Scarecrows cannot blush, but apparently his fiendish glow can ebb and flow and he glows much MUCH brighter when he's embarrassed - she tries so hard not to laugh.

• Adella and Jericho btw are simply besties. His "crush" on her is a friend crush and Phillip just finds it painfully cute. ((Also -> Jericho has mommy issues and Adella always wanted a son/nephew/little brother. Peaceful alignment))

• Dark Mode Marius is a colossal flirt but still a giant dweeb. He's cool and suave until someone flirts back - then he's a mess.

• Briggsy is very happy with his Kannon & makes "shooting my shot" jokes at every and any opportunity

• Yorgrim, with his reward, manages to finally lay many souls tonrest but he still carries the tombstone on journeys - just not constantly now. He still believes he must pay penance, but it's a little easier to share the burden.

• Farryn, with her own reward, has not chosen to activate it yet. Something tells her to wait, to bide her time and remain. She does, however, get a little more at ease with the others. She and Jericho have come to an understanding, too - that being they they are a package deal, no takesies backsies, and they refer to each other as twin, much to the confusion of many, many, many people. WLW and NBLM solidarity.

• Jericho is pining HARD for Marius, but he's absolutely terrified of damaging the friendship so everyone is watching two oblivious dummies look longingly into each other.

• POLYAMORY POLYAMORY POLYAMORY

• Marius grows rather fond of Virgil, and the sentiment is very much NOT reciprocated bc this angry knight vampire is not good enough for his vessel and he's mad about it.

• Yorgrim: I've only had my friends for a few days, but if anything happened to them, I'd kill everyone in Druskenvald and then myself.

• I fully expect for Jericho to somehow befriend an enemy in disguise, not realize, and accidentally fuck up the evil plan with the powers of puns, music and friendship (/j)

• the first time the party sees Jericho presenting more feminine, he's been lended one of Lethica's dresses after his own clothes got torn up and the rest are being washed. Marius has a nosebleed and faints. Briggsy is staring somewhat respectfully. Lethica is trying valiantly not to laugh. Farryn and Yorgrim regret not dying when they had the chance.

• Marius: i cannot have a relationship because I have sworn to follow the duchess of sin

Lillith: whoa hold up, Do Not use me as an excuse to avoid the cutie pie over there. Besides, he has a demon. I'm queen of hell. I can make a small exception.

Marius: shit

• Briggsy Bi Icon: OH if ONLY Jerry here had a DASHING KNIGHT to SAVE THEM from this PERILOUS INCIDENT

Jericho: captain, I'm just getting off of a horse??

Marius: no no Briggsy has a point, no maiden should be unaccompanied or unassisted. Allow me-

Lethica&Farryn: We Know What You Are

• Yorgrim is watching all this inter party flirting and is definitely wondering if he's gonna have to have an aside with everyone about flirting tactics and communication skills. Briggsy is making it worse by enabling everyone.

• Farryn gets some sweet, succulent healing, that is all.

[eggdrawsthings]

this show would have been great if it was not for that shit ass death just to justify Osha falling to the Darkside. also why can't we have her eyes glow yellow we already have that sick ass fight and the crystal bleeding, might as well go all the way man 🤷

This post by @gffa and everyone in the tag really summed up every gripe I have for that finale. They made him go on and on about his guilt and regret and he needs to face the Council and then boom "I did the right thing" in the last ep like??? Who are you??? Why tf u suddenly care about the vergence rn??? wtf is this script???

We really don't deserve LJJ man he's too good for this. Once again "great premise, clunky execution". The short running time also runs the whole thing to the ground. Forever mourning my first Asian Jedi Master, they baited me good o(-(

Re the eyes: Ig they still wanna like she was enraged but not enough to have her eyes yellow?? Cus she still wanted to go back to face the Council? (ngl that part was also wtf for me but tbh I'm alr mentally checked out the moment Sol started acting occ lol). idk man but yah it would've been sick af visual-wise and made it even more horrifying w the bleeding crystal. We have all that sick ass fight scenes but at what cost haiya

also lucky Im too poor to buy Sol's saber cuz it's Osha's saber now, and seeing his crystal bled was so upsetting it made me sick. It's Jedi Survivor all over again for me jfc

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Light on the Darkside - Chapter Fourteen.

Huge love to my little audience for your continued reads, reviews and reblogs. You're so lovely <3

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.

Words - 3,794

Warnings - 18+ throughout. Topics cover depression, suicide and eating disorders. Minors DNI!

After a thirty-five-minute train journey from Nuneaton to Leamington Spa, followed by a half-hour bus ride, Ella found herself walking through the picturesque village of Moreton Morrell in the heart of the Warwickshire countryside.  

It was the first time in weeks that she’d spent any time away from James, apart from a few job interviews she’d attended, plus their respective therapy sessions, all but moving in with him completely. He hadn’t officially asked her, but welcomed it greatly, more of her belongings arriving at the flat over the eight weeks they’d been reunited, both blissful in the fledgling stages of their relationship, now able to flourish in the real world.   

That particular morning, she was on her way to visit another person she had met while at the same place she’d found her love, turning off Duffus Hill onto a small cul-de-sac, arriving at the second cottage along and rapping the heavy iron door knocker a couple of times.  

“You’re here!” 

Stepping in, she was pulled into a huge hug by Andrea, the young women thrilled to see one another again. “Aww, look at you! You look amazing, Ella!” 

“Thanks! As do you. Wow, your hair!”  

Andrea had added colour to her natural mane of fiery auburn, making the hue even more intense. “I was so glad to sit in a salon chair again and get it fixed!” Ella could identify. Walking into the abode, she was struck by how sumptuously cosy it was, the fire lit to keep the October chill at bay, a large, grandfather clock with its heavy pendulum swinging back and forth in the corner, and an album by Portishead playing softly.  

“Tea?” 

“Please, that’d be mint. I could murder a cup!” Ella confirmed, hanging up her coat on the rack and sliding her boots off. “It’s getting so cold out there. I think we’re in for a shitting horrible winter, innit.” 

Her friend raised an eyebrow. “Now, who’s dulcet tones do what you’ve just said remind me of?” she pondered, Ella shielding her face with her hand momentarily, laughing. “How is he?” 

“He’s really, really good,” she confirmed, Andrea moving into the beautiful little kitchen and clicking the kettle on. “He’s at therapy today over in Birmingham, still sees the same guy who was the head clinician at the unit he transferred to as a private patient.” 

Andrea placed some teabags into the pot before pulling two large mugs from the cupboard. “That surprises me, I have to say. I always had James down as the type to walk away from it all and give the ole’ line of ‘suck my fucking dick’ to any further therapy once he was released. I’m glad he’s benefitting from it.” 

How well she knew him. “I did too for a while, but being at the place in Edgbaston really changed his mind about it all. His therapist sounds lovely, really listens to him and guides him over what he needs to do. He didn’t respond well to Dr. Beaumont’s methods of like, pointing you in the general direction and letting you figure it out for yourself.” 

Her eyes widened a fraction. “Hmm. She was very allusive like that, wasn’t she?” Noticing Ella pull her cigarettes out, she pointed at the back door, taking one from her with thanks. “She definitely wasn’t for everyone.” 

For Andrea, though, she’d been wonderful in connecting the dots between a traumatic event and her subsequent sex addiction issues, the girls discussing it after smoking their cigarettes, moving to the big, comfortable leather Chesterfield in the lounge.  

“I think the further I understand that it was less about sex and desire itself and more thriving on the attention from men and the excitement of sleeping around, the more it’s helped me reconcile the trauma that sparked it,” she explained, sipping her tea as she took a biscuit from the tin between them. It was lovely to witness Ella taking one without prompting, she noted. “I didn’t deal with it all, when it happened. Shoved it away. It was too painful.” 

“Sweetie,” Ella cooed, reached to stroke her cheek affectionately. “Of course, it was. It was no age, losing your parents at twenty-one. That’s like, one of the worst things I can imagine.” 

Indeed, the death of her mum and dad three years before had turned Andrea’s entire life upside down. Being an only child, it had been made even more difficult. Of course, she’d had family rallying around to help her, her uncles and aunties making sure she was okay regularly. Being alone in the cottage, though, she had soon come to realise that she truly wasn’t, sparking her promiscuous and often dangerous behaviour, leading to a breakdown and subsequent sectioning.  

It was too much for any twenty-four-year-old woman to deal with, losing her parents to a fatal car crash, being catapulted into a life of sole financial comfort, since they were both very well off, but having nobody around all the time to either enjoy it with – or more pertinently – keep a watchful eye on her.  

Life after treatment, she was now very glad to say, was much, much improved. 

“So, how’s that sexy mate of James’s, then? Steve, isn’t it?” she asked, smiling with a little embarrassment. “I can’t believe I straddled the man and stuck my tongue down his throat. The shame!” 

Ella snorted softly with a smirk. “Steve wouldn’t have cared at all, trust me. Quite the opposite!” 

“Oh, I know. I could tell that by how he kissed me back,” she revealed, her cringe fading a little. “He was a very good kisser, so that makes the embarrassment that I couldn’t dial my compulsions back a little less mortifying!” 

“As for how he is, he’s fine. Keeps asking for your number,” Ella revealed, watching Andrea rub a hand down her face. “Sorry, shouldn’t I have mentioned that?” 

“No, you’re fine, sweet. It’s tricky because I fancy him, but yeah, that time I briefly met him he was nothing more than a compulsion trigger, so I don’t know. He’s a young, sexy as fuck guy. He likely won’t want to get wrapped up in my mess that I can’t really casually date somebody and enjoy carefree sex, lest triggering my issues. I sort of get the impression that’s what he’s about.” 

Oh, how right she was. “Yeah, he’s a man whore, Ands. Big time. I mean like, he’s fucking lovely, such a laugh and totally cool, but he shags around a lot.” Hester, a girl called Jennie, another she didn’t know the name of, someone called Leonie, the man had his rotation in place.  

“Bollocks,” she huffed, Ella spraying a mouthful of biscuit crumbs. “I guess I’ll settle for just looking at him and how bloody pretty he is when I finally come to see you up your way.��� 

All talk of the male species was left there, the friends instead catching up with one another’s lives on the outside. Andrea revealed she’d gotten herself a part-time job at the local pub, The Black Horse, although truly she didn’t need to work with a fully paid off mortgage and all she had in savings gathering a very liveable amount in interest. 

 Still, what she wouldn’t give for her parents returned to her instead. She still cursed that the drunk driver who’d collided head on with their car had survived, albeit in a vegetative state. Perhaps that was the more fitting punishment, though. While they talked, Ella also shared a few of her plans, too, like returning to college.  

“I like, kind of think it makes me a fraud, though, wanting to strive for a career in helping others when I know I’m not one hundred percent recovered yet,” she began, sipping on a fresh cup of tea. She’d been tentatively considering it, perhaps studying for a psychology degree, wanting to specialise and help patients with eating disorders.  

Sighing, she continued. “We went out for a curry not long after James and I reconnected, and it sent me into a spiral. It was pants, mate, sitting there crying outside because I couldn’t cope with eating in an unfamiliar place. Or choosing a food I wouldn’t normally have had.” 

Andrea was thoughtful for a few moments before replying. “Did you ever think that the studies could actually help you more in your recovery? It might give you a greater insight, learning from the other side of the coin, as it were.” 

She hadn’t, it had to be said. After arriving home that evening, she discussed it more with James while she cooked chicken, him supervising the rice as she was – by her own admission – bleedin' useless with it. 

“Andrea is right,” he spoke, jumping up to sit on the counter. “You probably would get a new perspective over it. As for thinking that makes you a fraud and all of that, nah babe. Look at it this way, before your degree, you need to take your A levels first, so that’s two years. All being well, you’ll have finished that degree by twenty-eight, so that’s just over five years into your recovery, innit. You’ll be way more secure in yourself by then, won’t you?” 

“Mm,” she hummed, sighing. “I hate that my illness took such a chunk of my life, time when I should have been making these decisions and studying. I would have been a year away from completion of a degree, if I hadn’t. I messed up big time.” 

“Oi, less of that. That’s my girlfriend you’re badmouthing, dickhead,” he frowned, stretching his legs out to ensnare her, pulling her back into a full body hug. “If you hadn’t gotten ill, then you wouldn’t have decided that this was what you wanted to do, would you? Or met me. Obviously, I’m the more important of the two there.”  

His joke had her laughing, squeezing him tight and kissing his chest. “Of course, baby.” Reaching for her cider, she took a swig, lifting her head to give him a little nibble beneath his jaw before moving back to the cooker. “How was therapy, then?” 

“Yeah, pretty good, you know. We discussed my ongoing anger issues today. Michael made a good suggestion over what I could do to stop it, my desire to batter people who piss me off at the drop of a hat.”  

He’d been doing very well there, up until a week ago while at a club with Ella and a few others. Now much more confident in her body, she had been up on a podium dancing, wearing only a small outfit of hotpants and a cropped top, attracting a lot of male attention. Looking was fine, but when some random bloke had taken it upon himself to climb the side of the podium and make a grab for her, well. He’d met a very irate James, dragging him down by his jeans, his fist meeting his face at speed.  

“What did he suggest?” she asked, cracking fresh pepper over the chicken and turning each butterflied breast, moving to the chopping board to prep the vegetables to go into the wok.  

“Kickboxing. He said it would give me both an outlet for rage, and discipline over when to exert that rage and all that. Think I’m gonna give it a go, innit.” 

She widened her eyes. “War does not need to be any more deadly than he already is!” Her laughter filled the room, even more so at her boyfriend’s entertained smirk. “I think it’s a good idea, really. He seems to have a lot of those, Michael.” 

“Yeah, he’s a top grade bloke. Really fucking sound. Always has an answer for all my stuff, too. So what else is new with Andrea, then?” 

“Oh, the redheaded goddess!” Steve called from the armchair, beginning to grin. “Is she ready for me to give her one hell of a good seeing to yet?” 

“Calm your dick down,” Ella warned, pointing at him with a spatula, “you’ll do her recovery no bleedin’ good.”  

“We’re gonna have to put him in restraints when she comes up for your birthday,  innit?” James spoke, pulling a fresh beer from the fridge.  

Steve turned, his grin wide. “Nah, don’t you threaten me with a good time, Jim!”  

Once dinner had been eaten, a film watched and Steve declaring he was ‘off to play with Leonie for the night’ before leaving the flat, it wasn’t long before they decided to have a good time of their own.  

“Mmm, shit. I don’t even know how the hell you can move your tongue so quickly, but I... ahhh! I’m not complaining!” she moaned, feeling him smile against her as she straddled his head, James happily lying there with her riding his mouth.  

It burned incandescent through her, like a hail of glimmers creeping slow, his hands clutching the rounds of her bum, moving every so often to lay a hard smack. She’d never had a man spank her before, but god, how she enjoyed it when James did. He wasn’t gentle with it. At all.  

While his hands showed no mercy, his tongue slowed, dragging flat and slow through her folds, circling over her clit and repeating the action again. Her thighs shook from the potency of each lick, shuddered breaths leaving her mouth as she panted hard, her gaze falling to see him open his eyes and wink at her.  

Wrapping her clit in a firm suck, the sensation rooted itself in her, sharp-toothed and edging on a little too much, her hips swaying against his mouth. The pleasure dug deep into her marrow as she cried out, the release snapping through her, Ella immediately moving to gratify him by sheathing his cock within her still fluttering walls.  

He weighed heavy in the depths of her, the feeling of her soaking him only gratified further by the prickle of teeth crushing his nipple, her nails grazing like sensual daggers down his sides. She pulled heaven from the very depths of his hell every time he was inside her, not afraid to be as rough with him as he liked her to be, her hand grasping his neck, nails digging in as she kissed him with stormy lust.  

She sucked his tongue, his mouth then gliding to rain soft bites over her neck, grasping her bum and fucking up into her powerfully, the tempo remaining slow burning like napalm. Sitting back up again, his cock pressed firmly as she rotated her hips, hitting her front wall, lightning rolling over her spine, clawing at the black and grey brandings of his upper arms as he reached to squeeze her breasts.  

God, how she loved him, thrived on the thrill of having sex with him, James the sole reignition to her desires as soon as she’d started to feel better. The way he looked at her too, it made her feel incredible about herself, her body confidence restored. She couldn’t thank him enough for having such a part in returning that to her. There were wobbles on occasion, but they were becoming fewer and further between. 

Watching as she fucked him, she’d never seen a sight as sexy, her tall, muscular, tattooed man with his storm grey eyes. He was so darkly alluring, so stunningly sexy, James’s thoughts over her extremely similar. He loved that she finally saw what he did in her, and enjoyed her body as much as he did for the most part. 

The way she moved on top of him had him lost to the sublimity of it, no girl before her doing quite such a thorough job where he’d be content to remain on his back for the duration. It was hypnotic, a rhythmic spell of sexual energy unlike anything he’d ever experienced, her body rolling and undulating like she was made of liquid. Quite simply, he’d never been ridden like that in his whole life. She absolutely blew his mind, this beautiful young woman who he fallen so deeply in love with.  

The pace became more urgent and frenzied, voracity replacing the slower, sumptuous enjoyment that had prevailed thus far, Ella grinding down on him eagerly as he moved beneath her with more purpose, both of them driving deeper moans from one another.   

Each keen undulation caused him to feel sparks flickering his spine, while she had her own bliss pulsing softly, increasing more the faster she moved, fervidly chasing her release as she began to rub her clit, her other hand flexing at his chest, nails digging in.  

A string of panted expletives left her mouth as she felt herself reach boiling point, bubbling over and taking him with her to a gloriously sweet finish, intensity throbbing hard and leaving them both a breathless, shuddering wreck.   

With Ella now taking the contraceptive pill, there was no longer a need to move immediately to dispose of a condom, James pulling her down against his chest, stroking her back as he kissed her deeply. Floaty light little aftershocks skipped over her nerves as her release ebbed away slowly, feeling his cock twitching within the hug of her walls.  

Sleepiness began to settle over her, Ella finally moving to her side of the bed and pulling the duvet and thick, faux fur blanket over them, blocking out the November chill from their bare flesh as he curled around her.  

“Night, babe.” Dropping a kiss upon her shoulder, his arm tightened around her as his head sank into the pillows beneath it. “Love you.” 

“Love you too, my sexy church burner.”  

Yes, it still made him laugh.  

The following morning, Ella rose first, pulling on one of James’s long-sleeved t shirts (this one depicting the logo for the band Venom, who she was becoming a little partial to) her big, slouchy socks as well as her pyjama bottoms, shivering a little as she waited for the heating to come on while making herself a tea.  

Looking over into the lounge area, she noticed a familiar sight, a blanket swathed Snedders lying asleep on the sofa. He had his own key, so it wasn’t a surprise to sometimes find him there of a morning unexpectedly. She guessed there’d be a story to accompany his presence, probably involving his on/off girlfriend, the infamous Kerry. Ella didn’t like her at all, finding her to be very difficult to get along with.  

Making her tea, she moved to the armchair, placing her mug down on the much neater coffee table. In lieu of being able to offer anything towards the rent (which James had dismissively snorted at the suggestion of anyway) she’d taken it upon herself to keep the dwelling tidier and cleaner, padding to the corner where the answering machine light flashed.  

Turning the volume down low so as not to wake Snedders, she pressed play, being informed of three new messages.  

“Hi sis! I need to meet you at half four this afternoon so don’t get there too early. My shifts, the way they’re moving them around, fucks sake! I know it’s only half an hour, but yeah. See you later!”  

Jane, a welcome message.  

“James, it’s only me. Dad and I would love to see you. Are you free to come to lunch at ours next Saturday? Let me know, love.” 

Carole, perhaps not so welcome, depending on her mood. She’d sounded jovial enough, though.  

“Hello, message for Ella Greenhall. This is Sharon calling from Bloomin’ Lovely about your interview. I’m pleased to say we’ve chosen you for the position, if you could call me back at the shop as soon as possible, that would be lovely. Tentatively, I’d like you to start next Monday. Looking forward to hearing from you soon!” 

“Oh my god!” she squeaked, jumping up and down as quietly as she could, clasping her hands over her mouth. “I bleedin’ got it!!”  

Out of all the jobs she’d recently been applying for, the position at the florist just off the high street there in Nuneaton was the one she’d coveted most, Sharon, the owner making her feel so welcome when she’d arrived, the atmosphere so warm and lovely. It was only a part-time position, but with her wanting to start at college again it was perfect for her, Ella able to work in the college hours around her new job.  

When James got up around an hour later, her news brought him booming delight, much less concerned with waking up the sleeping heap of ginger dreadlocks on the sofa than she was. 

“Babe, that’s top grade! I’m so fucking proud of you!” he exclaimed, swinging her around in his arms, a grunt coming from the sofa. 

“Aw, ya got a job, Ells?” Snedders grumbled, emerging from within the swathe of the large blanket. “Nice one, little mate.”  

“Cheers, Sneds,” she chimed, turning then to her boyfriend after he put her down once more. “Also, your mum left a message. Asked if you were free for lunch next Saturday.” 

“Hmm,” he hummed, his jaw setting slightly. “Since that’s your birthday, I’m saying no. Even if it wasn’t, I’d still be saying no.” 

“Well, we’re not doing anything until the evening, are we?” 

He smirked, side eyeing her with raised eyebrows. “I had planned to bounce you on my dick for most of the afternoon.” Pausing, he began to laugh at the lascivious look she returned. “Hold on, did she say anything about you going, too?” 

“Not specifically,” she shrugged, reaching for her cigarettes.  

That was about right for Carole. She knew all about Ella, too, James already having introduced her to his dad, Alan thinking she was ‘absolutely bloody lovely, kidda’ as the man himself had worded it. “Then I definitely ain’t going.”  

“Maybe she meant me too, but just didn’t say it?” she suggested, watching his lips tightening. Perhaps it was best to leave it there, she thought, knowing well now the clear signs of him becoming agitated. “Then again like, maybe she didn’t. You’re not obliged to call her back if you don’t want to, baby.” 

He relaxed then, slipping an arm around her. “Good, because I’m not.”  

As it turned out, though, the lack of return phone call led to Carole reaching out to her son again, James answering the phone to her a few hours later.  

���Does that invite extend to Ella?” he asked, frowning.  

“Of course, it does!” she exclaimed, busying herself with cleaning the kitchen while she jammed the cordless phone between her ear and shoulder. “I’d like to meet this girl your father has told me all about.”  

Even though she was being polite and casual, agreeing to visiting still went against his better judgement. Come the following Saturday, he’d see in hindsight how correct his intuition had been, too. 

[darkdemeter]

Dem Hi! I'm back with a bit of an unhinged ask here:

Im sure this doodle gives you an idea where this is going. I was just making myself some tea, and I was thinking about Lovers In Eden (i was going to listen to a song called Eastward of Eden by Amelia Day,hence the association). And Since I am a film student, a writer and i took script classes as my subject las trimester, i offer you this unhinged recap of my conspiracy theory. So LIE (Lover in Eden) introduces us to the idea that Strife killed Y/N after a bloodlust outburst,right? Well, at first i didnt think too much of it, but then the chapter ends with the four on earth, which felt a little disembodied from the prologue. Which brings me to the hipothesis which is: Strife's lover is on earth,reborn without their memories. My proof for this theory is this: 1) We know that in the darksiders universe there is such thing as a well of souls, we know they go through the kingdom of the dead to repent and then be reborn through the well. 2) you wouldntve put the line "Love slayer" if it wasnt relevant to the plot. (Writing often times includes phrasing things a certain way to hint at other things). 3) Why would you close the chapter where you did? What relevance does the fact that the four are now on earth have? Simple, Strife will find a reborn,survivor Y/N and will fall in love with them (and have a crisis once he realizes its a whole like soulmates finding eachother again situation) 4) and last (which came to me as i wrote this) if you were to center the story only on Strife and the reader without the reader being reborn, you wouldve just started it from the medieval age/wherever strife met the reader and not end with the four on earth. Of course dont gotta tell me if im right,dont want to spoil the whole fic anyways. But I felt the need to share this with you. (I genuienly felt like the pepe silvia meme). And yeah, one offshoot of all this is that maybe the reader isnt a reborn soulmate, and that the prologue could just set up this inherit guilt and fear towards love that Strife has. Until we get the next chapter, i lay in wait...scheming/lhj/hj Have a nice rest of your day and i hope you've enjoyed my unhinged ramble. -Jer. PD: i feel so silly for sending this whole thing but as a fellow writer i know theres nothing we love more than ppl theorizing about our stuff. So here you go. I hope it doest read as overbearing,i just genuienly love your stuff.

First off, I love your pepe doodle! It’s so perfect. In fact I find it so funny that I made this a little bit ago myself... (As much as I'd love to rant and such about my AUs' lore and headcanons, I made this for shits and gigs)

I absolutely adore hearing theories readers have about my fics. (Sorry this has taken FOR-EV-ER to respond to, I'm terrible with replying at times)

I also fucking LOVE that you're a film student, I think that makes this whole theory situation even better because I do tend to have a very movie-esque thought process when writing. (Blooper reel and BTS footage rent free in my head)

And I think I've got the mind stewing a bit with that recent post, Flowers From My Lover. Without hopefully giving away anything, you do have some valid and interesting points in your theories and has me going, "Oh Jer is good little detective." You get a cookie for your theory skills!

There are indeed certain key details and clues I put in on purpose and it's so interesting to see what readers pick up on. And yes, the well of souls is involved to some extent in this plotline, but not in the way you might think...

I also find your choice of the word "reborn" interesting. Very obviously and right out the gates, I will say that yes, reader is alive in this story. But it's the manner in which reader's alive and again, the reborn theory is interesting and again, possibly not in a way you're expecting. Though it seems rather simple, I will tease that there is... quite a bit more to it than what's at face value.

And I wanna tease this little clue too because it is one of my favourites: It's interesting how the fic's title has a double meaning in plain sight...

[sunnynwanda]

The Darkside: Part 3

Part 1   Part 2   Part 4

Warning: mentions of physical torture and trauma, a somewhat graphic description of rape in the 2nd chapter, blood, broken bones, healing and aftercare for Villain cause I love them. 

The motorcycle comes to a halt in front of an abandoned cabin. There are no lights in the windows, as far as Hero can see, which makes it even more plausible that Villain is here. They turn the keys, stop the engine and take off their helmet as they walk to the door. They pin the lock and step into the silent darkness of the cabin. Hero stops, searching for signs of human presence, but senses nothing. They take a few hesitant steps, glancing into the kitchen, then moving toward what looks like the living room. They hear laboured breathing to their right and turn just in time to dodge the dagger aimed at their shoulder. 

“It’s me,“ they offer. A silhouette behind the sofa's back shifts to get a better look at them. “Villain, it’s me.”

“Why are you here?” Villain's voice is barely audible. Hero suspects they haven’t had time to treat any of their wounds. Villain brings another dagger up, pressing it to their own throat. “I’ll die but won’t be taken back, Hero.“ 

“I’ll die but won’t let them take you,” Hero claims, unwavering. They cannot blame Villain for not trusting them after what their mentor and colleagues had done. After everything that Villain had to endure because Hero was too slow. “I swear.” 

Villain does not reply, but they do drop the dagger down. With a relieved sigh, Hero crosses the room, walking around the sofa and dropping their bag to the floor. They crouch in front of the fireplace and light a fire, then scan the room, fetching a blanket upon locating it. 

“Shh, don’t move too much.” They place their palm on Villain’s chest, pushing them back on the sofa. “What do you need? Water?”

Villain nods, wordless from exhaustion and concern. “Why are you here?” They repeat after Hero returns with a large glass of water and a jar. “And what is that?”

“Honey,” Hero’s hands are shaky, they attempt to ignore it for now. “It’ll give you some strength before I can get some food in the morning.” 

Villain takes the spoon with their right hand, the left safely tucked away under the blanket. Hero shudders, remembering the state of it, what was done to it. They reach for their bag, pulling out their first aid kit. Something they learned to use to heal themselves while in training. Villain had no need of knowing that. 

Villain scoots away the moment they notice forceps. “No, no, no, please, no...” Hero looks up, not yet understanding what’s gotten into them. They stop Villain from jumping off the sofa and follow their frightened gaze, locked onto the instrument. 

“No, God! This is not... I want to treat your wounds, Vil.” They explain, putting everything aside and holding their hand in their own. “I would never hurt you.”

They can see the panic subsiding in Villain’s eyes, but the fear is still there, ever-present in the back of their mind. “I don’t have to use those, okay?” The enthusiasm with which Villain nods shatters Hero’s heart into the tiniest pieces. “Let me have a look at your hand first, alright?” 

They are still hesitant, eyeing the forceps with utmost hatred when Hero puts those away into the kit. “I can heal, remember?” Hero prompts, pulling their jacket off and discarding it onto the floor. They push the hem of their shirt aside. “I got this when you threw the giant doughnut at me.”

“You didn’t have it the next day,” Villain attempts to smile, opening the cut on their lip. “Shit.”

“Hey, stop with that!” They stop Villain’s sleeve mid-way to their face. With a sigh, Hero moves closer to them, taking Villain’s face into their hands. “Lean back and just trust me.” 

They allow their fingers to move gently over Villain’s lip, wiping the crusted blood and then using their power to heal the cut in mere minutes. Villain looks shocked but remains silent when Hero’s fingers move up to their cheekbones, then forehead, ghosting over every bruise on their face. Once they are done, Hero shifts, pulling the blanket off and revealing Villain’s mangled hand pressed to their stomach for protection. Hero shudders, sounds of flesh and bones crushing under repeated hammer strikes fill their ears.

“It’s...” Villain starts, but is unable to finish. They blink back tears that sting their eyes and take a sharp breath when Hero lifts their hand onto their lap. “Fuck.”

“Sorry, love,” Hero says as they attempt to straighten their crooked fingers. They disinfect the wound - the entire hand from the wrist down. Villain hisses, teeth digging into their lower lip. “Hey, I just healed that! Don’t you dare damage it again!” 

They chuckle at the stunned expression on Villain’s face, happy for the distraction as they snap their phalanges into place. It’s rough and painful, but they know it will heal right. There is no time for surgical precision. Villain inhales sharply but does not pull their hand back, watching Hero tear their hand apart and then work their magic to fix it.

Twenty minutes later, Hero looks up with a small smile. “Done.” They shake their head when Villain waves at them, delighted at their fingers moving freely. 

God, they are so cute, so pure. Hero cannot comprehend how deranged one must be to inflict such torment on them. Without a word, they hook their palm under Villain’s knee, bringing their leg up to examine the damaged foot. Villain shifts, leaning on the couch and watching Hero peel off their impromptu bandage. 

“A T-shirt?“ Villain shrugs. It’s not like they had a bunch of supplies at hand. Hero knows Villain spent whatever time they had in the city to go meet them. Warn them. It takes a moment to compose themselves and start talking because the fabric is stuck to their skin, and it’s about to get painful again. “That’s a pity. I liked that one on you.”

Villain chuckles at the attempt at distraction while Hero’s fingers gently soak the fabric before tugging at it. They bite the inside of their cheek to suppress an anguished moan. Their vision is blurring.

“I’m so sorry.” Hero’s expression is pained, and that provides comfort to Villain. They needed to know there was someone who didn’t take pleasure in their suffering. They tug again, finally ripping it off their skin. “Sorry. This was the last one, I promise.”

Villain nods, blinking to refocus their eyes. They notice their foot is bleeding when Hero starts breathing frantically. Their hands hover just above the wound, almost touching the skin to rush the process. They stop, from time to time, to fix the positions of some bones or make sure they don’t lose functionality. After what feels like an hour, Hero leans back with a satisfied groan. “Can you move your toes?” 

Villain wiggles their toes, and Hero can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of their mouth. This idiot.

“Good. Now take off your shirt.” Villain does not move for a good minute, staring at them with a mixture of emotions that range from surprise to something Hero is better off not discovering. “I need to check your shoulder.” 

“It’s not that bad,” they start, pulling the collar tight around their neck, but Hero’s gaze oozes determination. 

“One touch sent you flying across the street, Vil,“ Hero reasons. They can see the hesitation colouring Villain’s features but do not budge. “Let me take a look.“ 

This time, Hero asks gently, and that’s what breaks Villain. They exhale, looking away to hide the glint of tears in their eyes as they unbutton their shirt and pull it off one shoulder, revealing the bite wound. A large deep purple bruise surrounds the area, and the skin around the torn tissues is red and swollen. 

“Shit, it’s infected.” Hero knows there’s a tremble in their voice but cannot bring themselves to care about that right now. They are thankful Villain doesn’t question it. 

When Hero finishes treating Villain’s shoulder, the sky is dark grey on the horizon. Both are exhausted and sleepy, but a question keeps eating at Hero’s heart. They know Villain did not expect to see them again when they came to warn. They wouldn't allow Hero to see what was done to them otherwise. Yet, as much as they knew Villain hated the idea of them knowing, Hero had to ask. They had to, despite knowing very well the answer would be a resounding no. 

“Vil, can I...” Hero stops mid-sentence, looking down at their hands covered in Villain’s blood. They wish it was Superhero’s. Elbow deep. Villain shifts in the corner, using a pillow to prop themselves up. Hero takes a deep breath, then another, attempting to steady their heartbeat. “Can you allow me to...“ 

That is when it dawns on Villain what Hero’s question implies. What they are asking permission for. What remaining wound of theirs they are referring to.

“No!” Their voice sounds fragile. They sit up, using their legs to push themselves further away from where Hero is seated. They dreaded this moment, this topic from the second Hero walked in. “No fucking way. No.”

“Vil, you know I would never... I want to help.” It takes everything in Hero to keep a sob from escaping. Unable to handle the terror behind Villain’s eyes, they cover their face with trembling hands, dissociating from the horridness of the situation. 

“I know.” Villain is silent for a long moment, waiting for their words to sink in. I know you won’t hurt me. I know you would probably murder Superhero for this. But I can’t. “But no.”

Hero remains irresponsive, so they continue. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I don’t need help.” They lean forward, placing a hand on Hero’s shoulder. Their muscles feel tense enough to crumble under Villain’s touch. “Trust me on this one.” 

Hero nods, still not taking their hands away from their face. It takes them several minutes to collect themselves, pulling the pieces of their broken self into a person-shaped pile. They look up, offering Villain a small smile, then drape the blanket over their nemesis. “Get some sleep. I’m gonna go grab some food.”

“You’ll come back?“ It sounds more like a request than a question. Villain’s eyes are closed when Hero reaches the door, their breathing uneven. 

“No matter what.” With the doors locked, Hero hops onto their motorcycle, pulls a black mask over their face and departs. Once again, they have three hours till the sun is up. Until then, they need to reach the city, complete their mission and return to Villain. No matter what. 

Part 1   Part 2   Part 4

Masterlist

[the-fictive-haven]

Seeing as we just had someone new arrive from another Circus yet again, I think it's finally time to do a - drumroll please - ... ✨sourcemate search!✨

We are looking for fictives/introjects from The Amazing Digital Circus to chat and hopefully become friends with host Yami and our own Circus gang! EVERYONE Circus related is welcome! Doubles? No problem. Traumagenic system? Great. Endo or self made? Awesome. You are or feel you're the same as the original? Cool! You're canon divergent or from an alternate world? Come on in! This is a safe space for all fictives and their sysmates.

Finding sourcemates would be awesome, but canonmates even more so! We'll give a quick description of everyone so you can get a better idea of who they are and if you'd like to get to know them, or if you may already know them!

Meet the cast;

>This group are all from the same timeline, which is very similar to the original one, but with some different events. All of them have memory of these same canon divergent happenings, or if not, have at the very least accepted the others as their canonmates.

(OG) Pomni - the first Circus introject to show up here. Nervous, breaks under pressure, prone to small outbursts, but a sweet girl and a good friend nonetheless.

(OG) Jax - has a bit of a softer side (don't tell him I said that) and more teasing and annoying than an outright violent jerk. Makes fun of me any chance he gets.

(OG) Ragatha - yeah she's the same personality-wise as the original canon, actually. One of the system "moms" and caretakers. Fuckin love her. So gay for this bitch.

(OG) Gangle - also the same. Clings to me like glue half the time because apparently I'm her security blanket or something, not that I mind. I have gotten the Jaxes to stop bullying her, though, even if only because I'm basically god here and they don't want to get put in time-out out of bounds (lol)

(OG) Zooble - we don't know a lot about her, actually. She doesn't bother to interact with anyone much and most of the time we have no idea where TF she is.

(OG) Caine - ... Caine.

>Everyone hereafter hails from an alternate reality! All of these divergent worlds are given codenames that'll be used when referencing these headmates to make distinguishing them easier.

The Darkside timeline: DS!Pomni - a more jaded and done-with-this-shit Pomni from a world where basically, everyone fucking died (abstracted). Her colour scheme is black, dark purple, and silver/grey. She usually appears glitched in our headspace, the abnormalities growing worse when she's distressed.

The Chain timeline: Chain!Jax - a more quiet Jax who keeps to himself and quite frankly doesn't give a damn. Dresses differently (sassy leather and jewelry type shit) and smokes for some odd reason, I don't even know where he's getting cigs from. The name of this timeline doesn't have much actual significance, it just needed to be named something.

The Ura timeline: Ura!Gangle - her default is comedy and she refuses to return to tragedy, literally destroying the mask and not looking back. While she may feel happier, the lack of balance has essentially made it turn into full-on mania and she'll carry on how she wants with no regard or notice of how it affects others. Also she has no sense of personal space. Her memories show that her world's Jax had grown low-key scared of her, she may have even bullied him back. Ribbons are blue instead of red.

That's everyone for now! But more are bound to keep coming in so we'll update this post as needed. Feel free to send asks, reply, repost, or message us!

[sp25]

Desperation

pairing: kylo ren x f!reader

summary: your need for his love

warnings: 18+ this is sexually explicit, do not read this or interact with my blog if you’re a minor. consists of name calling, fingering, blowjos, manhandling, manipulation do not copy or use ai on my shit, i'll find out. I am not responsible for your media consumption.

a/n: first of all, thank you everyone who supported my last post, I am honestly more than grateful. You guys reblogging or even liking it has given me the confidence to write more content. So this is a new one. Again based on a character ai that I came across, this one is called "Kylo Ren' by @squishysushii, thank you so much for inspiring me and go and please support the ai creator.

Kylo Ren, a name that spread fear across the galaxy.

Yet, a name that comforted you through the dark times and gave you light.

You were Kylo's most prized possession.

He'd watched you grow in skill throughout the years under his strict training. Under his guidance, you'd pushed your body to the brink, experienced the most excruciating pain, and the most intense workout regimens, all to please him. Your Master.

But for the last couple of weeks, you felt alone. You wandered through the ship struggling to find a purpose without your master.

Kylo had been so busy these last few weeks and he had hardly any time for you, his sweet pet. He knew you were lonely and he felt bad for being so distant, but things between him and Rey have been complicated. He knew she needed him.

But, he didn't know the conditions he had left you in.

You had started becoming close to Obi Wan after coming across him in one of your missions. You knew your master didn't require or need you any longer. All you had to do was wait to talk to your master so you could finally leave the dark side and meet your new lover, Obi Wan.

You decided to over come your fear and go to his office. As soon as you entered his office, Kylo was sitting at his desk, working late. He looked exhausted. He was about to reach for the glass of wine in front of him when he saw you.

You could feel the breath in your lungs stop. How much you tried to make yourself distant from you just couldn't.

"Master.. I wish to talk to you", you whispered.

Kylo looks up from his work and he sees it was you.

He was so happy to see you and he almost didn't notice how and when did you entered. He had a faint smiled at you, but he quickly realized how much weight you lost lately. He was concerned about you.

Kylo put the glass of wine down and got up to hug you. He was so relieved to have you in his arms again.

It had been too long. He gave you a loving kiss on your forehead and he pulled you towards him. You both shared a deep embrace, he was so close to his pet now, finally he could feel her body again. He missed to feel your curves.

"Y/n." He said so rasply. But you had to spit out the truth.

"I am leaving the dark force." You tried to sound confident but you knew how weak you were.

Your words seem to switch a flip in Kylo. Hiis expression darkens. As if you just made his worst nightmare come true. Kylo stands up, his face is filled with both shock and anger. He speaks with disgust "Why would you forsake the Darkside?" There is both rage and sadness in his voice.

"Master." you softly said hoping to calm him down with your soft words. "I can't tell you, I am afraid you might hurt this person."

He steps closer. Loosing his composure "Tell me!" He grabs your shoulders roughly and shakes you "Now!"

You look down at the floor unable to look into his eyes as tears fall down your cheeks. "Obi Wan.." You stutter.

Rage and disgust fill Kylo's face as he throws you against the wall with such force, you slide a couple feet on the ground "You betrayed me to join that old traitor?"

You could feel the pain through your entire body but the pain you felt in your heart was worse. You look up at him with tears, "I am sorry Master, I can't control whom I love."

Kylo steps closer and stares down at you with hatred and disdain "How long have you known you felt this way about Obi Wan?"

"For few months Master." Your words were cutting the cold heart of Kylo's.

Kylo steps even closer and you feel his breath on your face. "You've been keeping this from me for that long? All the while, training under me?"

"I didn't know how to tell you." You answer truthfully.

You had been worried with how Kylo would respond and seeing his reaction now; your worries were confirmed.

You watch as Kylo looks away from you, trying desperately to contain his anger. When he looks back, he's not the same person. His expression is filled with rage and hatred for you. All the love he felt for you, gone. "I should kill you for this. For abandoning me and the dark side."

"I didn't abandon you Master, you abandoned me!

“You left me for Ren! I am now taking the path of love for Obi." You said loudly, you couldn't take anymore of his harsh words.

He steps back and paces around you, like an enraged and caged animal. "Is your love for him worth losing me, and everything we could have accomplish together?"

"Yes! because Obi treats me like a lover, I finally feel like a girl, but with you I feel like you always abandon me for your wishes. I do everything for you yet you give me nothing!" You scream out loudly, unable to contain your emotions any longer.

His eyes widen. He grabs you by the throat and speaks through clenched teeth. "You would rather be with him? You want to be treated as a "girl"? You'll do anything for him, but not me?" You could feel the air leave your lungs cause how tightly he choked your throat.

"Yes! Cause with him I'm happy! You says as you stutter, desperate for air. "but with you I feel a wall. I have loved you for so long long before I loved Obi yet you never saw me as lover but only as a trophy." You couldn't believe the words that came out of your mouth.

He drops you onto the ground and as you get up accepting defeat.

Kylo moves up behind you and grabs you roughly from behind. You don't struggle. He pulls you in close and speaks in a harsh whisper "You're going nowhere. If you think I'll let you go that easily... You'd better think again...I can't believe I let a whore be allowed in my team."

You could feel his one of his hands slowly move down your hips, his hand pressed against your wet and needy pussy, while the other one held your neck tightly, choking you.

He whispers angrily and passionately in your ear

"No.You're not leaving me. Not now, not ever. I've made a decision. You are my fucking slut, mine. You fucking get it? You are made for me. This pussy is mine, all fucking mine. And if I have to use every tool and technique at my disposal, I'm not letting you go"

You could feel his hands slip inside your pants, his index finger teasing your hole, this makes you whimper so needily. "Oh, you think you have any hope of escape?" He leans in and whispers in your ear "You belong to me. You always have, and you always will. You can put up a fight, but it won't change a thing."

You could feel his index finger slip inside you with such ease. Your warm pussy wetting his finger with ease as you could feel how roughly he started fingering you. Your mind was fogging you couldn't even form words.

Another one of his fingers easily slipping inside of you while his thumb teases your clit. You know it cannot end well. He speaks calmly yet angrily "It's over, my love. No more running." You know you have no choice... You accept your fate and wait for your doom.. you could feel his two fingers easily moving inside and out of you, hitting all the right spots as he rubbed your clit so roughly, that you were sure it would be swollen now.

Just as your are about to come, Kylo removes his fingers smirking. You could see his fingers glistening with your wetness as he smirks. "I will show you how much better I am than Obi Wan." He puts his fingers in his mouth, sucking on them and closing his eyes blissfully, "so fucking sweet for me."

He manhandles as he pushes you onto his office desk, throwing all his desk items on the floor. You looked up at him with fear yet desire.

He smiled so proudly as he pulled down your uniform touching your tits, squeezing them. He loves how hard and perky your nipples were for him so he softly pulled on one and bit the other one making you moan softly. "I can't wait to have you on your hands and knees, begging me to take you and make you mine." He said so confidently.

He pushes you onto your knees. "Open your mouth." He says sternly and you do so without hesitation. He smirks satisfied as he pulls out his throbbing cock, he strokes his cock softly as he looks your face.

He presses the tip of his cock on your lips, wetting it with pre-cum as if telling you to open your mouth wider. He slowly pushes his cock into your mouth.

You took him till you felt it hit the back of your throat, slightly gagging, his hands grabbed for your hair taking in a hand full as he started to make your your head bob up and down, licking his veins as you do so.

A groan escapes him in coarse ripples and he tilts his head back, loving the warmth your mouth provides him. He starts aggressively slamming his hips into your mouth, trying to catch his high.

His cock kept hitting the back of your throat as he kept whispering and groaning your name. "fuck y/n."

Your jaw ached cause how hard he was going. Your pussy only seemed to get more needier for him. Your could feel your panties dampen with need as your rubbed yourself against the floor trying to find pleasure too.

"swallow it pet." You suddenly felt white spurts of cum coated your mouth and trickled down your throat.

You kept sucked him one last time before pulling off and wiping your mouth. You swallowed his cum like a good girl.

He looked down at you staring as said softly adoringly "you look so beautiful when I fuck your mouth pet".

His comment made your cheeks flush red. "Master." you begged. You wanted to cum too so badly.

His voice turns dark and sensual as he leans in closer.

"Let me fill that hole in you, y/n." He lets out a soft chuckle. "A hole only I fit into."

—————————————————————————-

a/n: okay first of all, I am honestly sorry for leaving it on such a high note. I was about to continue but I realised how long this story is. Listen if you guys want a second part, do tell. I know the smut wasn't long, I promise to make it longer next time. Again guys, thanks for reading it. Please feel free to Dm me or request anything. I am more than happy to write.

[moodymisty]

Omg first of all: CONGRATULATIONS!! This is a giant milestone and you should be very proud of it, I'm still catching up to your works but from what I've devoured read off your masterlist so far, you're amazing! Second: You write for Darksiders?? Please imagine I'm laying a thousand roses at your feet and throwing petals after your every step. I kiss your forehead. May your pillow stay always cool on both sides and your socks always be fluffy.

Now, may I put in a request for Strife (or Death if you prefer), with the prompt "Finding out they have a memento of you somewhere on them they bring everywhere"?

Remember to sip some water and check your posture <3

❀ Milestone prompts list ❀

Author's Note: You like Star Wars and Darksiders? You have impeccable taste. But AAHHH thank you so much!! So many kind words I'm so honored you've enjoyed my stuff so far!! I live for Darksiders tbh, I enjoy it so much and I really hope the next game comes out before I turn into dust. strifegamestrifegamestrifegame

Relationships: Strife/Fem!Reader(because of the usage of the word 'princess')

Warnings: Very brief mentions of canon typical violence, Fluff

The world is a hazy, blurry mess, and any dream or nightmare you'd been floating in is forgotten the moment you open your eyes. Once you do so your heart is racing and your muscles are tight, as if ready to fight; Your body jerks, before freezing once you feel the soft fabric of a blanket over your stomach, and the gentle dip of a bed beneath your back.

Your first thoughts are of fire- Demons, and... Running. Everything else after is too much of a blur to remember. Whatever it was, it probably wasn't something you'd really want to remember, beyond just needing to have the answers.

"Hey, princess. Welcome back."

Strife is sitting right at your side, leaning forward with his elbows digging into his thighs. His body is perked up in response to your sudden movement, watching you turn towards him. His helmet is off, and you can see the way he's looking over your entirety. The voice he uses seems almost gritty from unuse, and judging by his stalwart spot, it would seem like he's just been silently sitting here for an unknown amount of time.

"What happened?"

The injuries you'd sustained must've made you lose a small bit of your recent memory; Not incredibly surprising. Strife only recalls those moments for you because you ask, as much as he'd rather forget them.

"A group of demons managed to corner you. And," HIs eyes drift away for a moment. "I wasn't fast enough."

He clearly was, if you were still here. But Strife always lets these sorts of things eat away at him, like termites in an old home until the supports crumble.

"I haven't been sleeping on the job for too long, right?" You smile at him and Strife makes a small noise, his leg bouncing as an outlet for whatever he's feeling.

"Few days. I really thought it would be longer," He runs a hand over his hair, letting out a sigh. One that sounds both ragged and relieved. It’s an odd sight to see Strife in any emotion other than happy or angry, he rarely allows them to peek through.

"I, shit- Whatever Death did, it worked."

He'll never mock Death's use of magics and necromancy again, not after this.

You shift to lean on your side a bit reaching for one of his arms and pulling it to lay over your stomach. Once you do your hands wrap around his fingers, silently observing how much larger his gauntlet is than your own hands. If he fully outstretched his entire hand, he'd covered more than a significant portion of your stomach.

With his arm fully stretched out however, the plates of his armor separate just enough to reveal something you'd not expected. They slip from in-between the seams of metal along his wrist, the cute and bright colors clashing with the scuffed gunmetal grey of his armor.

"You... Kept them?"

Your smaller hand keeps holding his and it takes him a second before he realizes you're talking about the bracelets. He hasn't taken them off once, and the wear and tear makes it obvious.

He remembers the moment you gave them to him; The look on your face and how you'd so casually gifted them to him, not even realizing how significant your insignificant little human gesture was to him.

They don’t, get gifts. Not monsters like him.

"Why wouldn't I?" He replies. They're a reminder of the very moment he realized he was irrevocably, inescapably in love with you; But he doesn't say it out loud.

"They remind me of you. That I have someone to come back to now."

You don't know Strife's backstory, no more than a few bits and pieces that allude to him doing things beyond the killing of the Nephilim. His guilt about it eats him alive every moment, and even if he shoves it off with jokes, he always acts like he's making up for it. You'll probably never know everything, maybe part of you doesn't want to, but it's not as if it'll change how you feel about him at this moment.

"Were you always this much of a romantic before I got knocked out?" Strife smirks at your compliment but when you decide to lean up and let out a soft groan of effort, he quickly jolts.

"Hey hey! Just cool it, don't hurt yourself." You finish leaning upright and roll your eyes.

"Strife, I'm just a little tired, not bleeding out." You look over your arms. There's a few bruises and scrapes along your elbows and hands, but nothing that a small bandage wouldn't cover. If they'd been worse, you couldn't tell.

"Mind thanking Death for me next time you see him? I'm assuming he's long gone by now." Strife nods. He'll thank him for you the next time the wind brings the Reaper and him in the same place; It's the perfect excuse so he doesn't feel the embarrassment of doing so himself.

He looks down at the way your hands are still wrapped around his own, and you notice it, leaning forward enough to press a kiss to his cheek.

"Now quit being a worrywart, and tell me three of your favorite colors so I can make you a new bracelet once I get the chance."

Strife's long life has made him weary, but at least now he has you as a port in the storm; Someone that makes him feel alive. He smiles, his hand trapped in yours and the lingering feeling of your lips on his cheek, and ponders.

"Only three? Let's see..."

[jedi-enthusiast]

My Thoughts on Episode 2

I have now moved into my dorm and gotten more used to college life, so here is the post about Ahsoka episode 2 as promised---keep in mind, though, just like episode one these are just my thoughts upon first watching it. They may change or I may go into further detail on them in the future.

----------

Once again, the scenes just feel...so utterly hollow and flat.

There's no emotion exchanged when Sabine and Ahsoka talk---neither Ahsoka nor Sabine ever actually seem worried- (whether it's about Sabine or the map) -nor do they ever seem stubborn, defensive, irritated/angry, or anything else that you would expect.

Again, it's all just hollow.

----------

I'm gonna be honest, the villains are the singular interesting part of this show for me right now.

----------

LOTH CAT!!!

----------

So, even though other people have literally died by getting a lightsaber to the gut, Sabine is perfectly fine to be sitting up and working on a droid and moving around like...a day or so afterwards?

The fuck?

Even if her surviving is possible- (since other people have pointed out that it is, when taking other things into account) -she shouldn’t be all fine and dandy and moving around! That shit should hurt!

----------

Also, I've seen so many people point to Ahsoka telling Sabine- "no, you've done enough." -when Sabine says she can help as this badass line and saying- "yes, let Ahsoka be angry!" -but, ignoring the fact that there was no emotion whatsoever when she said that...

...how is it badass or "sticking it to Sabine" when she literally goes back to Sabine for the help she offered like an hour later?

----------

Again, Sabine should not be moving like that after getting stabbed with a lightsaber.

----------

"Yes, let's put this whole hospital full of people in danger because we can't be bothered to relocate, because of a timeline that we have not been very clear about---a timeline that may or may not have consequences, because we also haven't been very clear about why the timeline is the way it is or what will happen if it's not followed."

Wow, this show is just...really trying to make me not like or root for these characters at all.

I'm just...wow.

----------

I've said it once and I'll say it again, the villains are the only interesting part of this show right now.

Also, I fucking loved Baylan mentioning Jedi younglings and that little snippet of Jedi culture---the fairytales they were taught.

Although I do think it's fucking nuts that the Darksider, the villains, are giving us more insight into Jedi culture than the actual fucking "Jedi" of the show.

----------

CHOPPER!!!

----------

Someone else explained it better in another post- (I'll reblog and add it here once I actually find it again) -but the guy that's playing the "businessman who's only loyal to his investors- (aka he does things for greed)" -is an actor, who I think is Jewish if I'm remembering correctly, who is known for playing pretty much only Jewish characters...

...I don't think I need to explain how making his character one who does things only for greed is antisemitic.

----------

Again with the Sabine as a Jedi thing???

Non-Force-sensitives can't become Jedi---being a Jedi is being apart of a culture that is specifically centered around Force sensitivity!!!

And Sabine already has a culture, she's Mandalorian for fuck's sake!

Just-

I'm sorry, this whole fucking thing pisses me off---she better turn out to be Force-sensitive and Dave is just retconning that, because otherwise I'm going to lose my goddamn mind.

----------

"I heard your repairs were complete."

Except they shouldn't be because she literally got stabbed with a fucking lightsaber, it should take longer than just about a day to heal---with or without a bacta tank.

----------

I swear to fucking god-

Not this bullshit again.

Please, please, I'm begging, just retcon Sabine to be a little bit Force-sensitive and don't pull some "non-Force-sensitive Jedi can be a thing" bullshit. Please-

----------

"I'm a general, nothing's classified to me."

That's not how that works.

----------

CHOPPER AGAIN!!!

----------

I love Chopper so much istg, I'm at least glad my favorite homicidal droid is back in action <3

----------

LOTH CAT AGAIN!!!

----------

Ok, this scene is reminding me of it specifically, but why hasn't Sabine been wearing her armor? We literally never see her without it in Rebels and being Mandalorian is a huge facet of her identity, why has she not been wearing it?

Once again, I assume this'll be explained later, so I'm trying to hold back my judgement, but if it's not explained later then...honestly it's just confusing.

----------

Wow, so not only was the Jewish actor cast to play someone whose motivation is greed, but they also made him a bad guy...just...wow.

----------

*long sigh at Ahsoka calling Sabine "padawan"*

----------

Oh hey, the big evil bad guy station kinda fucks ngl

----------

I'm gonna be honest, Baylan---again, the bad guy---honestly shows more emotion at there being "so few Jedi left" than Ahsoka---who's supposed to be the good guy, and who's apparently just decided to take up the Jedi mantle again---does.

Also, isn't this show set before the Sequels?

So how are there "so few Jedi left" if Luke is building a new Order that's apparently successful enough to have Order 66 2.0 in the Sequels?

[azems-familiar]

any thoughts on Cal's embracing the darkness? specifically...darkside!cal/bode.....👀

oh BOY do i have thoughts, actually. for both of these. i'm actually currently working on a fic (sitting at a little over 5k and probably going to be ~10k when it's done) which goes AU on Nova Garon and involves Cal fighting Bode there.

thoughts on Cal falling in general: yes, absolutely, i am so here for it, i love corruption arcs and i feel like this one is really well-built. from the beginning of the game we see how he's been struggling, how he's gotten darker and darker over the gap - he no longer reaches out to Ninth Sister (that it's time to set you free line right before he murders the shit out of her made me GASP), he's been working with Saw (who we know to use a lot of unsavory methods to the point that it got him disowned from the greater rebel alliance), he's been alone (which he never handles well At All). he consistently chooses to fight even when he shouldn't, he's not letting go of anything, he's gotten desperate. it makes sense. to me, Cal is the kind of person who pretends he's fine until he absolutely cannot anymore, whether that's hiding injuries or willfully refusing to realize he can't cope with things emotionally, and i feel like that's fairly well supported by the fact that the rest of the found family has each gone their own ways because they needed to make strides forward for themselves they couldn't while they were with him, no matter how much they love him, and because they can't help him until/unless he wants to be helped.

Cal also doesn't handle betrayal well, on top of Cere's death being the second time he's lost a master. to me, it's no surprise that he completely snaps on Jedha, and i think his fall is reinforced by a) the massacre on Nova Garon b) the fact that he outright refuses to listen to/understand Bode. Cal i think has a very black and white worldview due to his trauma and his youth in which he sees the Empire as a monolith and puts the crimes of the Empire onto every single person who serves it, and he struggles to understand why people would give in rather than choose to fight. i think we spend the game with him watching him run more and more on anger against the Empire as well as his desperation for Tanalorr, and that anger becomes more and more selfish until we get the snap on Jedha. honestly i think with the way the early game was written, even if Cere hadn't died, he would've still fallen, just possibly not when he did. it's been building up to that.

(i also love redemption arcs, i will say, but for a truly satisfying redemption arc you have to hit rock bottom first, and i want to push Cal there.)

in terms of fallen!Cal/Bode - also very much for this. part of this is just because i think the two of them killing people as fallen Jedi together is attractive and also what they deserve <3 but honestly narratively i think it just... works. mostly we'd just need Cal to work through his anger at the betrayal and actually properly understand why Bode did what he did (which is what i'm working on in the oneshot i'm writing), and to find a solution for everything that assuages Bode's paranoia. i do also think that with time, Bode could be convinced to return to fighting the Empire, especially if he knew Kata would be safe while he did it, but he's been through a lot and he's not there yet. but it's very clear that he doesn't like the Empire (only working with the ISB because he sees it as the only way to keep Kata safe), and i think it's also quite clear that he cares a great deal about Cal and didn't want to betray him at the point he did, but that he saw it as a choice between Cal's safety and Kata's safety and the latter had to be his highest priority. i absolutely don't think he'd find fallen!Cal any kind of turn-off, let's be real here, and honestly it's a dynamic i want to explore more of, maybe in AUs or something? i'm tossing around an inquisitor!Bode enemies to lovers au concept that might eventually turn into a fic at some point...

i may have gone slightly off topic here. anyway my thoughts on these are Yes, Yes, and More Yes, also i will go into an explanation of why i think Cal is actually fallen and not just struggling if people want. and also my final thought is that the Dagan parallel in this game is actually Cal and i will expand on this if asked to

[lunatic-fandom-space]

Oughhhhhhh thinking about the fifth DWK movie never ceases to piss me off so hard for no reason

Its so weird that Leon is just like. a statue for the entirety of the movie when hes basically been the main character for most of the series. I mean, the first movie is definitely an ensemble piece where I'd have have trouble pointing out a true Main Character but in every movie after that I feel pretty comfortable saying that thats Leon and in this one its just like, hope you liked him in the opening scene because hes never coming back after this lmao

There definitely shouldve been a twist about Leon being a vampire now when they arrived at Vampire Castle, maybe not immediately when all the vampires introduce themselves but like, idk this series loves the stupid romance drama between Leon and Vanessa so maybe shes jealous of Blossom since shes the only girl their age in the vacinity and is yelling at her to let him go already but then Darkside comes in and he says something like "Leon ist zwar nicht freiwillig zu uns gekommen, doch er ist freiwillig geblieben :)" and then Vampire Leon makes his dramatic entrance and hes all goth n shit and then theres all this drama between him and his friends and Vanessa, like they could make stupid drama between him and Vanessa thats still fun and interesting they just dont do it for some reason (also yeah, I'll admit it, the main reason i wouldve wanted this happen is because I like Darkside and I like the idea of him having a gay thing with Leon, what of it)

Speaking of gay things or more accurately, a lack thereof, literally the only reason they didnt have Darkside turn Leon is that they wanted to avoid the gay implications of it for heteronormativity reasons, I refuse to believe its anything else when the reveal that Blossom turned him makes way less sense

Speaking of Blossom, I literally CANNOT BELIEVE that they introduced a girl Vanessas age to the group that wasnt some kind of ominous magical fog spirit and they just. didnt interact??? are you kidding me??? Like, shes more femme too so them befriending each other or getting together 😳 couldve challanged her Not Like Other Girls Attituide in an interesting way idk

I dont even really know why but I liked Darkside a lot and thought he was gonna be a sympathetic character but then nothing really came of that. I mean still think he is sympathetic even after watching the whole movie, like he was crying at the end, its just that everyone left him in that castle to presumably be alone forever, thats so cruel. It was honestly awful to watch it unfold, I could already see the pieces sliding into place when they established that you need true loves kiss to turn a vampire back into a human and Darkside clearly didnt have a viable love interest the way literally every other vampire had, but that just made it worse honestly

[vivianbernadetteaurora]

Mrs. Petty.

Nicki Minaj, over the years has been a controversial figure, things that are quite out there kind of like Wendy Williams but with more anger and more force behind it, that is terrible Virgo of her which can make her a bully, kind people with earth moons can’t have this tendency for cruelty I have noticed, not all of you if it doesn’t apply let it slide, obviously not Darkside if that, particularly Virgo means, and let’s talk about how she ripped pieces and she lied about her husband raping someone who was a white woman supposedly when it was actually a black woman.

The girl was so humiliated she wanted to put this part of her life behind her, she they just wouldn’t stop and wouldn’t stop and they kept bribing her and trying to tip her off with money, let’s not forget Nicki Minaj protected her brother Jelani, who raped a 10-year-old girl repeatedly his stepdaughter I, like that is disgusting. I know when you love your family it’s a bit different and we don’t know how to react to situations because does that love disappear? Does it go instantly? Do we, and she had a go at Wendy for like talking about this situation

She has every right to that is her job, her husband did go to prison for manslaughter and rape? What did she expect? One of the worlds? Most beautiful women still marries a deadbeat man?.

I’m sorry for my hatred of man. It’s not very nice is it? I know and I apologise for that but if you’d lived my life you would feel the same for many many years. I didn’t have any animosity towards the men for what they had done to me, but after so long it happening you start to have this big fear of men and have no respect for them, this is why thought for the longest time now that I probably am gay because I have more respect for women and we have higher expectations for women and that can be a double edge short because then we think oh if she’s a woman she shouldn’t do that. I always use the comparison of John Lennon Kurt Cobain and vicious Hated but their women were so that is my view on that but then at the same time they expect more of us because we can give more than a man I guess and in this modern day age like a man isn’t actually needed a lot of the time which can cause self-esteem problem For men and this is why a lot of men themselves because they feel worthless so you have to be really careful?

This is I think the last few years has had some real jealousy problems herself and anger and using the white ski slopes doesn’t help, I believe that’s what she uses and pills allegedly because she had all that Megan Thee Stallion and made her big to protect loyalty to deadbeat men who are horrible but this woman who’s like a black woman like you you treat like shit then make a song called Bigfoot and you made yourself look a fool, but it was sad because you were almost doing a Whitney Houston at the end of her life just not the end of her life but I midlife where she was like saying crack is whack and stuff like that she dug herself a grave.

I said that Virgo moon would be haunting her along with that Sagittarian son and Venus wanting to or rANT rant rant.

So when she used to go off on Queen radio that’s what it was all about and she hated her mum being spoken to her about that but she did tell her a lot of lies and they saved Jupiter. Sagittarian was the truth bullshit does it a lot of Sagittarians? I know the biggest lies going, so I know you still have a big fan,, but I was never a big fan of yours, my fan , is Courtney Love, spudgen, full sexy goths m, black women of the 2000s, such as Whitney and Mariah, and Lil Kim. These people don’t have problematic bases well yes Courtney Love do but yeah..

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Light on the Darkside - Chapter Eleven.

Remember darlings, it's double update today, so if you see this chapter first, remember you have chapter ten to read prior! :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.

Words - 3,647

Warnings - 18+ throughout. Topics cover depression, suicide and eating disorders. Minors DNI!

If cloud nine existed, James was sat right upon it, standing with his arm around his girl while talking and drinking with her friends and sister, unable to keep from turning to gaze at her fondly. There she was, at last, right by his side. She looked amazing for the extra weight she’d gained, his eyes picking out the obvious, of course. Boobs. His hand moved to rest on the other.  

“Just so you know, I’m not gonna be able to keep my hands off this, innit,” he began, squeezing her bum firmly. “You’ve got an arse, Ells bells! I’m so fucking proud of you. And horny, because you looking fucking top grade sexy!”  

He leaned to nibble her neck, making her giggle, Ella turning to softly thump his chest before looking up at him. “Calm down!”  

“Nah.” They happily fell into another kiss then, enjoying it for a few moments before he pulled away, grabbing her hand. “Come with me a minute.” 

Placing their drinks down on the bar, he then led her in the direction of the doors, nodding at the bouncer on the way out into the still warm early October night, moving to the side of the club away from the noise of the music. There, he wrapped his arms around her again, humming happily before giving her another kiss.  

“So, why didn’t you call me?” 

Ahh. She might have known she’d have that coming. “Truth?” 

“Always, babe.” 

Hiding her face against his chest for a second, she took a deep breath. “I was nervous!” 

His facial expression was an absolute picture. “You fucking what?” 

“You heard!” she laughed, shaking her head.  

“But it’s me!” he continued loudly, curling his lip and having her in soft hysterics.  

“I’m aware it sounds ridiculous now, but I was. I had all these silly thoughts, like wondering if you might have gotten out and gone off me, or met someone else.” His eye roll was immense. “Needless to say, I’m not anymore!” 

“You shitting well better not be, darlin’!” He then looked her up and down again, mouth spreading into a wide grin. “Seriously, you look so fucking gorgeous.” 

Beaming, she wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers weaving into his beautiful hair. “Looking pretty mint yourself, BFG.”  

They stayed out the front talking a little more and kissing for a few minutes, James taking her hand again, leading her back inside to introduce her to his band. The rest of Nocturnal Descent were occupying one of the big tables outside in the spacious beer garden, Ella finally able to put faces to all the names of the men she’d heard so much about.  

“Nah, honey,” Steve began upon giving her a meeting hug, “what’s someone as cute as you doing with Kingston here? Fucks sake, you need to upgrade. Get yourself a man who doesn’t fart so bad, you feel like you’re in the gas chamber. Or one who’s got a decent sized cock instead of a worm.”  

She couldn’t help but laugh. Mainly because she knew the former to be true, and the latter she’d bet, from what she’d tentatively felt pressing against her a few times, was very much false. 

James arched an eyebrow. “Well, that ain’t you on either count, is it, fucking flatulent, pin-dicked twat.”  

To his credit, Steve guffawed, gripping James’s shoulder before making as if he was about to punch him in the balls. “Ya dickead,” he growled, turning his attention to Ella. “So, Ella. What do I have to do to get Andrea’s phone number?” 

“Ask her yourself when she comes to stay with me. However, if you’re only like, out for the ‘I shagged a sex addict’ trophy then she’ll let you down, mate. It’s sleeping around spontaneously that lead her into treatment. And that’s all I’m saying. Save her privacy.”  

How very Ella, James thought proudly, snort laughing when Steve pouted. 

“Alright, what about the honey with the massive tits over yonder taking to your sis?” 

“And he calls me a tart,” Janes snorted, sipping his pint. 

“Single,” she confirmed, giggling at the speed he moved down to the next table with. Turning back to James, she leaned to kiss his cheek. “You having a good night?” 

“I am,” he revealed, “but I don’t wanna stay much longer. Just wanna spend some time with you. If you like, you can come stay at mine?” 

Oh yes. She liked.  

They left at midnight, Ella feeling a little buzz, James not so much other than the one he had from walking back up the high street towards home hand in hand with her. 

“So, what was it like at the place you were transferred to? And how long since you came out?” she asked, lighting a cigarette and offering him one he took with thanks. 

“Little, I am fucking telling you, worlds apart from Moor Acres. My therapist is top grade amazing, such a fucking sound guy. First session I had with him was the day I arrived. We just sat and chilled, talking about music and drinking tea for the first half hour. In those thirty fucking minutes, he figured out more about me than Dr. Beaumont did in five and a half months, innit. As for how long I’ve been out, just over two weeks. How about you?” 

“Eleven days, and I’m so thrilled for you, that your last month of being in an institution was so positive: it was one of the things I worried about, after you’d gone. You might have been sent to a bleedin’ shithole of a place and not made progress, and without me there to help you. For whatever that was worth.” 

He stopped then, moving into her path, touching his fingers beneath her chin to lift it gently. “It was fucking worth everything, babe. Everything. That was the only thing that was hard, being away from you. Not having you there to unload everything that was in my head, or just sit and laugh with, forget about it all for a while.” He paused, dropping a kiss to her lips. “Nearly told ‘em to turn around about twenty fucking times along the way, I felt so bad for leaving you. Fucking broke me a bit, innit, doing it like that. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have left, though. I needed to, Ella, to get where I am now.”  

The way he’d done it truly had left her feeling completely broken for a time, but she saw it so clearly, how it radiated through him. He could cope with it, the noise in his head, those feelings of despair. Whoever the therapist was who he’d seen at the place he’d ended up, she could have kissed him. He’d definitely helped him much more than Dr. Beaumont.  

“I won’t lie, it was pants, being without you. I was half heartbroken, half bleedin’ livid with you, when I sat and read that letter,” she began. 

“Yeah, thought you would be,” he interjected with.  

“Sat and cried for an hour, blamed myself, had Andrea give me some really sound advice and like, state again what I knew but didn’t want to let myself believe. Then, I knew what I had to do. Get better, get released, and find you.” She beamed, holding her arms wide. “Here I am!” 

He threw his head back, his rumbling laugh sounding like music to her. “Yeah, little. Here you fucking are. I swear, seeing you in the crowd, best surprise ever. I was just like ‘what the fucking fuck? She’s here! Shitting hell, she’s right fucking there!’ when I saw you. Couldn’t believe it.”  

They continued to walk at a leisurely place, James telling her a few stories he’d amassed from his month in Birmingham, Ella sharing a few of her own. 

“He was moved the week I was let out, big Keith. Sent to Broadmoor, so I heard. Went absolutely psycho and almost killed another patient, so they had no choice. I saw the blood all down the stairs, it was fucking brutal,” she spoke, James’s eyes widening, although he wasn’t all too surprised. He’d quietly wondered during his own time there, just how many chances of rehabilitation they would give to the twenty-eight stone, six feet seven behemoth of fury that was big Keith.  

“That don’t really surprise me. He used to sit up all night, howling like a fucking wolf unless they shot him up with tranqs. Wouldn’t take his meds half the time, attacked the staff daily. Way worse than how I was,” he spoke, a scent of familiarity drifting under his nose. “You hungry, by the way? We’re getting near to Prezzo, and they actually do proper pizza in there, none of that carboard tasting shit. If that’s too scary, they do salad and all that, too.” 

Hmmm, she could eat, she supposed. It had been seven hours since her small plate of pasta for dinner. “Yeah, alright then. Let me get it, though. You bought me enough drinks already tonight.” 

“Nope, he spoke, steering her over to the other side of the high street when the traffic broke. “I’ve got music money burning a hole in my wallet. Apparently, while I was away the record took off hugely in Japan. I have a few more zero’s than I’m used to on the ole’ bank balance.” One stop at Prezzo, a small back and forth over Ella’s request for ham and pineapple – and James’s deep distain over such – and a pizza constructed with half that and half tandoori chicken was purchased, the pair on the move again once more.  

“Oh, shit! That building is amazing, I love it!” she spoke as the old factory housing James and Steve’s flat came into view, Ella wondering why the hell he’d referred to something with so much character as a shithole. It really wasn’t, not even when they got inside and climbed the stairs up to the second floor.  

The old brickwork gave it character, the original windows too, James taking his keys from the thick wallet chain he wore and unlocking the door of number six when they arrived there.  

“Bathroom is that door there,” he spoke upon entering, pointing to his right after switching on the light, a light that flickered for a few seconds before the bulb popped. “Ahh, shit! Fuck, don’t think we’ve got any more bulbs. Hang on.” He strode for the kitchen area, lighting a candle on his way and using it to illuminate the cupboard under the sink, Ella just about able to see the sofa through the gloom, placing the pizza box down on the coffee table and taking a seat.  

“Any luck?” 

“Nah, I’ll have to go get some tomorrow. Fucks sake. Don’t matter though, we’ve got about a billion fucking candles, innit.” He went about lighting them, the space nicely illuminated, moving next to the stereo in the corner and taking a CD from one of the shelves that ran the length of the wall. Thier music collection was staggering.  

“What’s this that you’ve put on? It’s very atmospheric,” she spoke, James shrugging his leather jacket off and hanging it on the corner of the armchair, kicking his boots off and joining her on the sofa.  

“This is that guy Varg Vikernes we talked about a while back, you know, the actual church burner,” he replied, opening the pizza box and taking a slice out.  

“Hold on, I might be able to impress you here. I think I know what his project is called, Jane loves it. What is it now,” she began, clicking her fingers and winding her hand around as she tried to remember. “Burdum? Bursim?” 

“Close,” he spoke, taking another bite. “Burzum, but ten points for trying, little.” 

“Thanks!” she chirped on a laugh, reaching for a slice, watching him crinkle his nose up. “What? I like pineapple on a pizza. It’s mint. Get over it.” 

His reply dripped sarcasm. “I’m sure Italians the world over would agree.”  

“Oh, don’t be concerned if I like, only have one or two slices. This is a big pizza and this is a lot for me to eat in one sitting,” she spoke, tucking her chin a little before taking a small bite. 

“Nah, I ain’t gonna monitor you. It’s a scary food, too. Dough, cheese.”  

It touched her greatly, that he remembered all of this. “Yeah. Like, it’s less scary now, but I keep reminding myself what Dr. Beaumont told me. Every meal I manage to eat is an accomplishment, an extra mile on my health journey. It helps. I finally had a breakthrough with it when I’d almost reached my target weight. Mary told me to stand in my undies and look at myself, then showed me a picture of how I looked when I was first admitted.”  

“I bet it was shocking, right?” James asked, starting on his second slice. God, he was starving.  

Reaching for her bag, she pulled out her wallet, taking from it the folded-up picture she kept with her always to remind her how far she’d come. “Here, see for yourself.” 

Taking it, he looked down, dropping the pizza slice back into the box and covering his mouth with his hand. “Shitting hell.” To say she looked like death was an understatement. And he’d thought she’d been scarily thin at just over a stone heavier when he’d first met her. “Ella... fuck. Seeing you like that makes me wanna fucking cry, innit, and I don’t cry easy. That’s twice with you now, fucking dickhead.”  

Taking the picture back, she leaned to kiss his cheek, stroking his hair. “When was the first time?” 

“When they were driving me away from Moor Acres.” He looked very uncomfortable at revealing that, frowning, side eyeing her. “Knob.” 

The snort of laughter that came from her was huge, tucking her wallet away again as she giggled. “My grumpy church burner.”  

“To use one of your favourite expressions, shut your hole,” he retorted, only succeeding in making her laugh more. Oh, how she’d missed him. Even when he was pissed off at her. He didn’t stay that way for long, though, nudging her with a soft elbow and turning his head to kiss her shoulder. “Still think you’re awesome.” 

After eating three slices of his half of the pizza, Ella managing one and a little bit, he rolled them a joint, stretching out on the sofa with his head in her lap. The feel of her nails combing over his scalp and through his hair was a comfort he’d sorely missed over the last seven weeks, reaching to stroke the side of her neck as he smiled up at her.  

“It’s just me and you. No other patients, no orderlies or nurses watching us like fucking hawks. Just us.” 

How they had both longed for it, the simplicity of being together without watchful eyes constantly on them. Still, Ella almost felt like Tony was about to bark an order at her as she slipped a hand beneath James’s t shirt, idly stroking the side of his abs while they chatted.  

“I’m telling you, I lasted an hour when I went see her and my sister for the first time. She’s still coming out with all the same crap, that I’ve somehow brought my mental illness on myself. I just stood up, told her I’d had enough, and took Sam out for a drink instead so I could catch up with her without being fucking hen pecked to bloody death,” he explained of his first visit home after being released, glowering at the memory of his mother being, well, her usual difficult self.  

“You know what it sounds like to me?”  

“What?” he asked, handing her the joint. 

She was thoughtful for a moment before waving her hand dismissively. “No, it’s probably not my place to say.” 

He prompted her again. “It is. Spill.” 

“I think she’s deflecting, like, going in really hard with saying it’s because of your music and lifestyle to absolve herself from her own part in your issues.” 

Michael had said very similar. “Nah, you’re totally right, darlin’. It’s exactly what she does, it's like, if she makes enough noise about the other person, she thinks people won’t notice her, what she says and does.” 

“And that’s up to her to acknowledge,” she sighed, passing the joint back, her hand retuning to his hair.  

“Innit? I know she loves both me and my sister to bits, but I’m not excusing her any longer, or putting up with it. Me leaving the other night was what Michael advised in therapy. Set a boundary, then if she continues to cross it, calmly walk away. So that’s what I did. Anyway, I don’t wanna talk about the duchess. What you been up to since you got out?” 

“Not much, really. Just spending time with mum and Jane, went back to my yoga class for the first time since I got really ill, had a tentative job hunt.” 

“Any luck there?” 

“Nope,” she asserted, widening her eyes a fraction. “Not unless I want to work in the same old utterly pants job roles I used to. Never going back to bar or supermarket work again.” It would be fair to coin the pair as intelligent underachievers, both only having three and four GCSE’s respectively, only James going on to do his A levels. Ella had taken the GNVQ route, choosing health and social care although she wasn’t sure she wanted to work in either.  

He hadn’t sought anything further academically, taking on mainly factory and doorman work around the band until they’d taken off, his touring schedule making it impossible to hold down a full-time job.  

“Yeah, babe. Don’t blame you. I’ve done bar work before. Total bullshit. Ruins your weekend too as that’s when you get the best shifts as far as tips go,” he agreed, taking another drag on the joint. “I can’t smoke much more of that. I’m proper fucking tired.” 

She frowned concernedly. “Is that because you’re drinking on your meds?” 

“Nah, Michael took me off the ones that made me wanna crash in the afternoon, and I only had three pints tonight. Can’t get drunk or it’ll stop the pills from working. Trust me, I’ll miss getting wankered, but I don’t miss that fucking mess my head was in before I got help.” 

Smiling down at him, she kissed his forehead, taking the joint from him. “I’m proud of you. You’ve worked hard to get through what must have been a hugely heavy weight bearing down on you,” she began, trying to stifle a yawn and not manage it. “Bleedin’ hell, are there crushed up sleeping pills in this weed?”  

“Fucking feels like it, innit?” he laughed. “I didn’t feel this mashed so quickly last night. What I bought off Gaz must be different strains. I’m irritated by that.”  

“Why?” 

“Because my brain is saying sleep, but everything south of my waist is like, ‘Nah, man. You’ve got a top grade girl here, the one you’ve been missing for weeks! Go shag her through the bed!”  

She almost choked on the lungful of smoke, wheezing, softly slapping his shoulder as she spluttered. “I don’t mind not being shagged through the bed tonight, so don’t feel like, all conflicted and stuff.”  

Internally, he breathed a sigh of relief. It could go either way with weed, depending on the type. Just enough and he could have sex for elongated periods before orgasm, too much and as soon as his body hit a bed, he was asleep. It was a balance he couldn’t bank on prior to smoking, but suffice to say the one joint of very strong weed he and Ella had shared most definitely took the wind out of his sails.  

Sitting up, he grabbed a marker pen and shut the pizza box, writing ‘DO NOT EAT’ upon it. “Snedders’ll inhale it otherwise, the lardy cunt.” They made their way to his room, the space much bigger than she was expecting, pulling off her clothes all bar her knickers and top, unhooking her bra beneath it and pulling that off for comfort.  

He made no mention of her leaving it on, remembering her insecurity there. It didn’t matter to him one bit; she could have laid next to him fully clothed and he wouldn’t have cared. Having her beside him was all he wanted. Climbing beneath the deep grey duvet, she happily sank into his arms, enjoying both the look and feel of that gorgeous chest against her bare for the first time. He looked more or less exactly how she pictured he would, and lord, it was a mouthwatering sight.  

“Wow, you were right. This bed is like, the comfiest ever,” she spoke, leaning to kiss him beneath his jaw as they entwined, James resting his hand to her hip and stroking the slender curve. God, it felt so good to hold her and not feel bones jutting out.  

“Told you,” he spoke, kissing her head. “Even comfier for having you in it, too.” 

Her heart thrummed waves of pure happiness, falling into sweet kisses with him before he switched off the lamp and they fell asleep. He was out before her, Ella seeing it was entirely true when he’d told her he was like sleeping next to a corpse, except he ran hot. He didn’t move and he didn’t snore.  

It made a peaceful change to the last man she’d shared a bed with, her ex-boyfriend Ryan over two years before. He’d sounded like malfunctioning power tools whilst he’d slept. She was asleep before she knew it, both of them soothed not only from the strong weed, but what they’d ached for over the past seven weeks. The simplicity of being able to hold each other close once again.