#so happy to hang out and not have knifes at each other's throats

[norrisleclercf1]

happy new year!! could I please request a mafia lando or Pierre with a arranged marriage where she doesn’t know that he is in the mafia until it’s too late??

A/N: We're doing Pierre, because a certain someone doesn't get enough Pierre

"Do you have another meeting?" It's a soft question, one that has Pierre freezing. The knife in his hand shaking slightly as he stops chopping the tomatoes. "Probably," Pierre answers and goes back to chopping.

"Why?" Pierre has to swallow back the annoyed sound at your constant questions that are driving him crazy. "Because I have to work, to provide us this life." It was always the same answer, and that was beyond what you were allowed to pry.

"Pierre, in case you forgot, I was basically sold to you." You snap, tired of him constantly dodging your questions. "Y/n," You tense, hearing Pierre's short tone knowing you were pushing the limits. "I understand you aren't happy, but I'm trying. Why can't you?" You swallow down your reply and hang your head.

"Go take a breather, I'll finish up dinner." Pierre insists and this was a cue for you to leave so his own anger could calm down. "Pierre," You reach out for him but he steps back. "Dammit, just," He snaps seeing the flare in his eyes you flinch and step back from him.

Pierre closes his eyes tight and puts the knife down and walks away, outside. It was always like this, when you push you see that rare flare of anger.

Picking up the knife you start cutting, trying to figure out why he hid what he does for living from you. Even when your father gave your hand away to a total stranger, he even refused to let you know what Pierre does.

"Hello?" You turn seeing Esteban, one of Pierre's friends, or you think. They didn't like each other a lot and while he looked nice, something about him put you on edge. "He's outside," Esteban stops, cocking his head to the side at your short tone.

"Argue again?" You look away, which gives him the answer he needed. "I can tell you, all you had to do was ask," Your knife makes a scratching sound on the cutting board. "Esteban?" The French man hums and sits down biting into an apple. "What does Pierre do?" You don't turn around, afraid that seeing Esteban will have you stop asking.

"Know how the news has been talking about this large crime raise?" Your hand starts to shake, and you don't answer knowing your voice would fail you. "Pierre, he's the one in charge of it all. And your precious daddy sold you to stop Pierre from cutting his neck. Your "precious" husband is Mafia Don Pierre Gasly. That's what he does for work," You turn quickly but stop hearing the sliding glass door open.

"Esteban, what are you doing here?" Pierre's clipped tone fills the tense kitchen. "Dropping off some files." He puts down a vanilla envelope and winks at you. "Well, nice chat Y/n. See you around." Esteban pats Pierre on the shoulder and walks out.

Pierre pays it no mind and looks at you smiling gently. "I'm sorry precious. I shouldn't have snapped at you, let's finish dinner, yes?" He smiles and walks over kissing you gently and you have to control your grimace. "Yeah," You whisper swallowing down the bile that was rising in your throat.

You were stuck, married to a monster with no way out.

[sugarnspice630]

Happy Birthday to Me - Yunho

•pairing: dom!yunho x sub!fem!reader

•word count: 2.7k

•tags: mdni, established relationship, heavy smut, consensual non-consent (rape play), it's reader's birthday, degrading, taunting/teasing, predator/prey play (if you squint), reader says stop-but doesn't mean it, reader begging, name calling, hair pulling, knife play

Summary: It's your birthday and Yunho finally acts on that promise he has made for you so long ago.

A/N: This fic contains rape play/cnc (consensual non-consent). Please read at your own risk! Also let me know what you think! Happy reading!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆───

Yunho has been so busy lately with his idol schedules. He was busy preparing for comebacks, working on promotions while also filming his individual content, leaving very little time for you two to hang out together. He knew your birthday was coming up and he wanted to do something special for you, but he just didn’t know if he’d have the time. He had something planned in his head, but was afraid to do it. Since you have been dating for a considerable amount of time, you both got to share your wants and fantasies with each other, and there was something that you brought up to him, that he would be willing to try, but was afraid of how it might affect you. Yunho wasn’t average sized by any means; tall, long, and hands with fingers that could reach all the right places - he was terrified to hurt you in any way, but he knew how much this meant to you and was willing to do anything to help this fantasy come true. The real trick to this fantasy was that you were not supposed to know when he was going to do it. Due to Yunho’s kind hearted nature, he wanted to make sure you were mentally prepared for it at all times, but the thrill for you is not knowing when it’s going to happen.

It was the day of your birthday. You were sitting alone on the couch when Yunho opened and walked through the door. He came home way earlier than the both of you expected so you were thrilled to death! You ran up and hugged him tightly.

“I’m happy to see you too princess~.” he said softly as he kissed the top of your head. “Oh, happy birthday by the way!”

“Thank you Yunho! You’re the best birthday gift I could ask for.” you nuzzled your face into his chest, happy to feel his warm embrace. You felt him take a deep breath and when you looked up, he was yawning. His eyes were slightly bloodshot, had darker than usual circles under his eyes, and his eyelids were droopy.

“Tired my love?” you said as you tilted your head up and rested your chin on his chest.

“Ugh, yes. I’m sorry princess but could I save your special gift till tomorrow?” He said as he rubbed your back. Your heart sank into your stomach. He had been teasing saying there was a chance he would fulfill your fantasy on your birthday, but to not hold your breath on it, for obvious reasons. Yunho was good at keeping promises, so for him to have to hold off made you a bit upset.

“I guess it’s okay.” you responded with a slight pout.

“I know and I’m sorry..I’m just not feeling it today. I do have a slight favor to ask though.”

“Yes?”

“Could you possibly make me some tea? My throat is killing me after today.” 

“I can’t say no to you~.” you responded softly and went on your way to make his tea. Despite that pitted feeling in your stomach, you still loved him with all your heart and were going to do anything to help him to relax.

“Thank you sweetheart~. I’ll be in our room waiting.” he said with a wink before he made his way to your shared room.

You quickly began to make his tea and you knew exactly how he liked it, because you liked yours the exact same way. You got out all the necessary materials to make tea and began to warm the water. Softly dancing to pass the time, swaying your hips and humming that song you could not get out of your head, you hear Yunho’s voice from the other room.

“Almost done~?” Yunho shouted from the room he was in. Smirking, you decided to toy with him since he seemed to be in such a rush.

“Well now I’m going to take even longer~!”

“Better not!” he responds. Thankfully at this point the water had gotten hot and was ready for the tea bag to steep. You gently carried the cup and stopped at the door frame to shout back at him.

“And if I do~?”

“Well you don’t want to find out.” There was a mysterious tone to his voice that you had missed at the time, too busy toying with your beloved boyfriend.

“Maybe I do want to find out?”

“Fine, wait then.” he replies harshly. You then started to feel a bit guilty thinking that maybe he wasn’t in the mood for teasing and just wanted to relax after such a long day.

“No! I’m sorry!” you apologized and continued your trip back to the room with the teacup in hand. You got to the door and apologized again before entering and noticed that Yunho was nowhere to be found. You checked every corner of the room thinking he was just in a blind spot from where you were standing, but he was not in the room at all.

“Yunho?” you called out confused, hoping to hear a response, but there was nothing. You set the cup down on his nightstand and smirked, thinking that maybe he was toying with you this time. You searched the room slowly, smiling the whole time.

“I wonder where he is~?” you hummed as you continued to look around, bending over to check under surfaces that you knew he would not fit under, but still did just for fun. He couldn’t have been hiding in this room as there wasn’t really anywhere good for him to hide since he is so tall. 

“This is supposed to be the other way around babe~. I’m the one who should be hiding.” you said a bit louder hoping that if he was in a different room, he would hear you and come over. 

Shortly after you said that, you heard a noise from behind you. You quickly turned around to look, but there was nothing out of place. You shook your head thinking you were just hearing things when all of the sudden, a pair of hands harshly grabbed your wrists, pulled them together behind your back, then one hand covered your mouth. You flinched at the aggressive behavior from this mysterious person and let out a small gasp. Eyes open wide in fear and your heart rate starts increasing, the person who was behind you let out a sinister chuckle. You frantically looked around to try to get an idea on if this was indeed an intruder or just your boyfriend playing a joke, regardless you felt wetness pooling underneath.

“Yu-Yunho?” you squeaked out thinking whoever it was hearing your panicked voice, they would stop. The hand wrapped over your mouth gently slid down to your chest and you felt a warm breath on your neck, lips of the anonymous being touching your skin.

“That’s right love~” he said with a deep tone. Yunho laid gentle kisses upon your neck, making sure to hit all your sweet spots, before pulling away softly and just whispering, “Sorry for what I’m about to do.” Your mind was running a thousand miles an hour at this point and had no time to process the intention behind his words. Just as quick as the first action, Yunho had your pants ripped down to your ankles, wrists duct-taped together, and bent over the edge of the bed with your ass straight up in the air.

“S-stop this isn’t funny!” you stuttered and you could feel your heartbeat in your head. You could not fathom what was happening to you right now. Was Yunho actually going to follow through with his promise? He just decided to say he wasn’t feeling it to get your mind off the possibility of it happening? Millions of questions were running through your mind but all of it stopped when you suddenly felt the tip of his cock near your wet entrance. Your mind went blank and could only focus on the intensity of the situation and how it was making you feel.

“N-no! P-please no!” you whimpered. Both of Yunho’s hands gripped harshly on your hips and he began to pound into you with all his might. You couldn’t help but scream into the covers at the sudden intrusion.

“I can’t wait to break this whore~!” Yunho shouts as he lifts one of his hands and gives your ass a firm smack. The aggressive behavior that is coming from him was something you had never seen before, but you absolutely loved it in this scenario. You whined at the burning sensation that was coming from the skin around your ass, definitely certain there was a big, red, handprint forming. Yunho kept pounding into you with full force and gripping onto the sides of your hips, not caring how many marks he was making in your skin. Knowing that your fantasy was actually coming true now, you decided to play along with him to make it as authentic as possible.

“P-Please I-I-” the words would not come out. The shear pleasure and anxiety that was coursing through your body was enough to make it start to shake.

“Just shut up and take it whore!” Yunho screams at you as he takes one of his hands off your hip, grabs your head and pushes it in the bed. The unholy moan that made its way out of your throat would definitely be concerning to most people, but you could care less at the moment. The force of Yunho’s thrusts just felt so damn good. Your legs buckled from underneath you and you could tell your body was starting to give in.

“Fuck Y/N! You feel so fucking good right now!” Yunho said through gritted teeth and his grip on your head tightened as he continued to pound into you like no tomorrow. His thrusts were getting so intense that tears started to form at the corner of your eyes. His cock was filling every inch inside you and with how deep and hard he was fucking you, it felt like he would burst through your throat. This man is an absolute beast.

“P-Please stop!” you cried out. Yunho then took his hand that’s on your head and gripped harshly onto your hair, slightly tugging towards him to lift your head up off the bed.

“I’ll stop when I please~” he snapped. You couldn’t help but let out a groan as he gripped your hair, getting chills down your spine. Yunho heard this and it only made him more crazy. Tugging harder on your hair and lifting your head up so he could look at your pretty face. Your eyes closed in ecstasy and you whined with your mouth closed, which only made it sound like a moan.

“I knew that this slut was liking it~!” he growled and pushed your head back onto the bed, pulling your ass up further so it was directly against him. His whole dick still shoved inside of you, never leaving its place. If anything, this new angle you were in, only made it easier for him to reach your sweet spot.

“P-please!” you cried out, only for your plea to be muffled by the sheets on the bed.

“Asking for more~? As you wish~” Yunho grabs onto your hips and forces you into his thrusts. 

“N-no!” you threatened, but shortly after moaned out at the feeling of him gripping your sides and pushing you against him. With every pull towards him, he pushed himself further in. Yunho smirked seeing and hearing at what a mess you were underneath him. Never did he think you would enjoy this torture so much. He lifts a hand off your hip and smacks it against your ass hard.

“What was that slut~?” he teased, slowing his thrusts down to let you respond.

“I-I said no!” you retaliated, squeezing your eyes shut at the stinging feeling on your cheek.

“I don’t give a fuck what you say!”

Just as quickly as he stopped, he started pounding hard into you again. Yunho was too damn good at this. You knew that he had incredible stamina, but you had no idea that he could continue the roughness for so long. Coming back to your senses, you feel your insides start to twist and you knew that you would come undone soon if he kept this up. Yunho thrusted into you and this time he hit your g-spot with an undeniable aggression which led you to scream and whine out really loudly. Suddenly, you felt a cold, sharp, metal object lightly against your neck. Your entire body froze and you opened your eyes wide in fear. You felt Yunho lean in closer to you, lips almost touching your ear as he softly said,

“Ah ah ah~ can’t have you screaming and have someone hear, right~?” All you could do was let out a whimper. He had knocked you completely into submission with the introduction of the knife. Yunho chuckled menacingly and leaned back to start thrusting into you again, leaving the knife gently against the side of your neck.

“Y-Yunho, p-please! S-stop!” you moaned out, but he had no intention of stopping until you were finished. He pushed the knife into your neck a little bit more and picked up his thrusts again. You couldn’t help but let out a tiny sob from fear, which wasn’t *really* fear, it was more like overstimulation.

“Ohh, is the little bitch crying~?” Yunho mocked. He took the knife away from your neck, rested the tip of the blade under your chin and tilted your head up gently with the knife tip. “Good~” he says sinisterly.

“W-what do I need to do to m-make you stop?” you say with your voice breaking from overstimulation. 

“Oh please~ like you would be able to make me stop~.” You hear Yunho softly chuckle from behind you. “I’ll. Stop. When. I’m. Done.” he thrust hard into you after each word. With every thrust inside of you, you whimpered from the sensation.

“Mmm, those pathetic whimpers~” 

“F-fuck~” you softly moan and quickly bit your lip as to not let Yunho hear.

“Hmm, what was that~? Say that one more time darling~.” Yunho says before he slams himself inside of you again. The sudden action caused you to cuss out. You couldn’t control your breathing. You tilted your head down and let your mouth hang open to let any future moans just come out. 

“Atta girl~” he says deeply and softly rubs your ass. You were practically drooling from the sensation. Yunho was fucking you too good to not be feeling this way right now.

“I-it hurts…p-please!” you called out pathetically. You were so close to breaking but you didn’t want to admit it to take the fun away from him.

“Luckily for you~.” he groans as he does a couple more thrusts and you feel his cock pulse inside you as he fills you with his load. Feeling him twitch inside you sent you over the edge as well. You let out a series of ‘no’s’, each one getting progressively louder until you released and you gripped the bedsheets hard as you finished out your high. You heard Yunho chuckle from behind you.

“Good girl~,” he whispers in your ear as he frees you from your restraints. You softly fall face first onto the bed and try to catch your breath. “Happy Birthday by the way~.” 

“T-thank you baby~” you respond while heavily breathing and your voice muffled from a face full of bedsheets. You feel Yunho gently rub his finger over your soaking, wet, entrance and you let out a moan and shuttered from the overstimulation. The weight on the bed shifts and you realize that Yunho is sitting next to you. You roll over onto your back and gaze at the ceiling, still breathing deeply.

“Someone had fun~.” 

“Mmhm~,” you softly nod and close your eyes. Yunho gently kisses you and you smile. “Thank you baby~.” 

“You’re welcome slut- I-I mean dear~” You both lightly chuckle and before you know it, you both are passed out laying next to each other on the bed.

[cece693]

Why? (Stu and Billy x Male Reader)

I couldn't help but write a small insert involving my favorite killer duo—Stu and Billy. I'm not happy with the ending, so I might come back and change it. I just wanted to post something quick.

Summary: M/n Prescott was a straight-A student, popular, good-looking, and kind. So why was he holding a gun and aiming it towards his sister? What was his motive?

Sidney's breath caught in her throat as the chilling click of the gun echoed in the kitchen. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, the sound almost drowning out the sense of impending doom.

"What? Did you really believe you'd make it out alive?" M/n's words sliced through the silence like a jagged knife, their mocking tone a cruel contrast to his previous soothing nature. His eyes, once warm and familiar, now gleamed with a disturbing intensity. Sidney's hands trembled as she felt the cold metal of the gun pressed against her skull, its presence sending shivers down her spine. She couldn't believe it—her sweet brother was a murderer.

"Why?" Sidney couldn't help but ask, her voice trembling with the weight of betrayal and disbelief. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared into M/n's unsettling gaze. "Why are you doing this to me? Why did you kill our friends?" A groan escaped M/n's lips, the sound carrying an eerie mix of boredom and frustration.

"Again with the questions, Sid," M/n sneered. "They were your friends, not mine. Besides, do the majority of serial killers have a reason?"

He watched his sister's expression, almost amused by her attempts to understand the incomprehensible.

"But…" M/n trailed off, his voice taking on a sinister edge, "If you really want a reason for my killing spree, turn around." Sidney's heart raced as she hesitated, the command hanging in the air like a dark omen. Sensing her reluctance, M/n's patience wore thin. With a swift motion, he grabbed his sister and forcibly turned her around, a twisted smirk playing on his lips.

As Stu and Billy entered the kitchen with a knife in hand, the atmosphere grew even more suffocating. M/n's eyes gleamed with a macabre anticipation, relishing in the unfolding chaos. While he would have preferred to finish the job with a gun, he indulged his boyfriend's penchant for theatricality. After all, who was M/n to deny them such pleasure in their twisted game of cat and mouse?

"Surprise! Did you really think it was just M/n on his own?" Stu's voice dripped with mockery as he stepped closer, the knife held menacingly in his hand.

Billy, his expression equally twisted, chimed in, "Yeah, Sid. We've been planning this for a while now." His tone was chillingly casual, as if discussing the weather. "But it doesn't end just there, oh no. We have another surprise for you."

Sidney's heart sank as Billy's words hung heavy in the air, each syllable dripping with malice. Her attempts to break free from M/n's hold grew more frantic, yet his grip remained strong. "You see, Sid," Billy continued, his voice laced with a sickening glee, "there's something else you should know. Something that will make this all the more delicious."

Stu stepped forward, his gaze locked with Billy and M/n's, a silent understanding passing between them. "We're not just partners in crime. We're lovers."

Sidney's heart shattered at the revelation, her mind struggling to comprehend the depth of their betrayal. Billy, her former boyfriend, Stu, her friend, and M/n, her brother, had been conspiring against her all along, their twisted love for each other overshadowing any sense of loyalty or morality.

Stu's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with a wicked delight. "Fucking, killing, you name it, Sid. We're a team in every sense of the word."

[pedroshotwifey]

Christmas Countdown Day 20 - Dave York

Numb

Pairing: Dark!Dave York x afab!reader

Word count: 2.2k

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, dddne, this is not the darkest thing I've written, but it is the darkest I've posted. Non-con piv, non-con knife play, reader gets cut, blood as lube, spit kink, spit as lube, degrading nicknames, restraints, Dave is MEAN, multiple slaps, literal abuse, stockholm syndrome vibes? Stuff im forgetting

Summary: Dave comes home after a rough day to find out that you didn't do the one thing he asked for.

A/N: Y'all, I want to like this one so bad, but I just read over it and I didn't think it was as good as I anticipated. 😭 Maybe it's just because I know I wrote it, or maybe I'm just tired out of my mind. Idk, I'll try to read it in the morning. Anyways, please keep in mind that this is a DARK FIC. If you don't like it, don't read it.

****

You’re sitting on the couch, idly watching TV when Dave gets home. You smile brightly, jumping up from the sofa to greet him at the door, resisting the urge to cross your fingers in hopes that he’s in a good mood. 

You had pampered yourself today, making yourself look soft and pretty, your hair shiny and perfectly in place. You had slipped on a dress that he had brought home a week or so ago as a reward. He’d been so happy and kind that week, and you’d felt so special with the way he paid so much attention to you. 

You hope that he’ll do the same again when he sees you like this, all dolled up just for him. Though it’s a reward enough just to know when you have his approval. 

“Hey, baby,” you say tentatively as you peak your head into the doorway. 

Dave turns around to look at you as he takes off his coat, his expression blank as he takes in your appearance. Your smile falters, though you try to keep it up. His eyes are dark, his jaw set with a particular hint of annoyance. He’s had a bad day. 

Ignoring the part of your brain that screams at you to go hide, you step toward him slowly. He doesn’t move as you approach, just continues to watch as you gently undo his tie and hang it up on the rack next to his coat. 

The air is thick with tension around the two of you as you look into each other’s eyes. Where your gaze is hesitant, exposing the fact that you have to put effort into not cowering in his presence, his is hard, revealing the fact that he gains something from your submission. 

You try so hard not to be afraid of him anymore, but you just can’t help it sometimes. He’s good to you when you’re good, only mean when he says you’re not. The only problem is that he seems to decide when you’re acting good or bad, even if you’re on your best behavior. 

Because of this, you’re in a constant state of reluctance and worried anticipation. You never know when he’s going to snap again. 

“D-Dave?” you ask, breaking the silence. “Do you want to talk–” 

“Would you shut the fuck up for just one second?” He’s quick to interrupt as he shoves past you and into the kitchen. You close your eyes, gulping down the sudden disappointment that bubbles in your throat. 

That’s okay, though. You’ll brush it off. You’re probably just over-reacting again. 

You sigh and spin on your heel to follow him into the kitchen. 

“Are you hungry? I can make you something if you wan–”

“Christ, woman! Do you have a damn off switch? If I want something, I’ll fucking tell you I want it.” 

You reel back at his harsh words, not expecting them quite this early. You open your mouth to comply, but the warning look he gives you makes you shut it and nod instead.

He moves to the sink, rolling up his sleeves to wash his hands, when he stops abruptly in front of it. For a moment, you’re confused, but then you remember what you had forgotten to do today. Your eyes go wide and your stomach drops. 

“I ask you for one. fucking. thing,” Dave says, his back turned toward you. His voice makes you shudder, the tone much too low to mean anything good. He turns around now, fury in his eyes as he breaks under the last straw. 

“Useless goddamn bitch,” he slowly seethes, stalking toward you. Your breathing goes shallow, your body tingly as you watch him get closer, already knowing what's to come. 

You sink back, your ass hitting the floor as you scootch back until you hit the wall. You’re cowering, your body already shaking as you wrap your arms around your head and squeeze yourself into the tiniest ball possible. 

“Dave, please! I swear I didn’t mean to forget, IswearIswearIswear, please, I–”

You're cut off by your own scream as Dave yanks you up by your hair, your scalp stinging as strands rip from the force he uses to pull your face to his. You’re blubbering as he spits degrading remarks your way, far too panicked to hear everything he’s saying. 

You catch snippets here and there as you push against his chest, only serving to hurt your tender head more as he tightens his grip on your hair to keep you close. 

“Fucking dumb—can’t remember shit—Don’t even know why I keep you here—can’t even tell you to do the dishes–”

He just keeps going, every beration digging into your skin until you feel like you’re being coddled by razors. 

“D-Dave, Please–” you try to stop it, even though you know better. His hand comes down sharp across your cheek before you can even process it being raised. Your neck aches from the way it’s forced to the side, almost distracting you from the stinging pain coming from your reddening skin. 

You choke on a sob, your tears stopping momentarily from the shock. Through the ringing in your ears and the pain that spreads through your jaw, you register how your makeup has been messed up from your crying, and you almost want to laugh with how stupid of a thought that is. 

You don’t, of course, because Dave’s quickly pulling you back to reality with a firm hand on your chin, making you look into his eyes. Tears continue to run hot down your face as you let him move you, feeling too defeated at this point to try anything else. 

“You hear me, bitch?” He asks, giving your jaw a firm shake. You blink at him, forgetting at this point that you have the ability to speak at all. It’s not like he would hear you anyway. 

“Said I’m gonna get some fucking use out of you. Seems there’s only one thing a dumb whore like you is good for.” 

You just keep watching him, your expression fallen as you watch it happen. Again. What else can you do? It’s never helped to do anything else before. 

He snarls, clearly annoyed that you’re not giving him another reason to reprimand you. He stands to his full height, tossing you back to the floor as he does so. 

The back of your head knocks forcefully against the tile, and you feel your teeth rattle as the light above you starts to blur. You think faintly that you may want to move, but your body doesn’t want to comply. It’s not like you have anywhere to go. 

You settle for blankly watching Dave as he tugs his belt through the loops before unzipping himself. His eyes stay on you the entire time, and you think you whimper at some point because of the smirk on his face. 

You hate the way your tears run thinly into your hairline, settling there uncomfortably, but you can’t be bothered to wipe them away. You’re tired, you just want to disappear. Unfortunately, you know you can’t do that, so you settle for the next best thing—staying still and silent in hopes that you can block everything out, dissociate yourself somehow. 

Your body jolts as Dave kneels down in front of you, pulling your hips closer to him. You must have been watching the light again, lost in your hazy thoughts. A pathetic sob slips through your lips, and you taste blood as they open. You must have bit your bottom lip when you hit the floor—or maybe it was split from the slap. You don’t know. Don’t care at this point. You just want this to be over. 

Vaguely, you register that it hasn’t even started. 

“You just going to lay there?” Dave points out more than asks as he reaches for your panties. “You really are damn stupid. Must want this, fucking slut.” 

Your eyes close tightly as you feel your panties get ripped in half. 

He’s right, you are stupid. Only a stupid girl would let this happen. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

The word repeats like a chant in your head, your eyelids tightening and your lips quivering. Your body shakes and shakes, it’s all it can do through the headache you’re starting to get from the screaming in your mind. 

Another harsh crack makes you gasp, trying pitifully to take a breath as you take in the fact that he just slapped you again. You feel it less this time, though you don’t know why. 

“Look at me,” he spits once your eyes are opened again. Hesitantly, you look into his eyes, trying with all your might to keep them open. It’s like a nightmare, and the only way you can escape is for you to shut your eyes. 

The only difference is that this is real, that even if you closed them, you would still be able to feel the way he notches himself at your entrance, still feel his threatening stare, still feel every ache and pain that he inflicts on your body. 

He grunts as he starts to shove his cock into your unprepared cunt, and your mouth falls open to squeal at the sudden burn between your legs. No sound comes out, your tongue thick and dry as sandpaper. 

He doesn’t stop you this time when your eyes screw shut in pain, your body squirming beneath him as you try to get away. Your fingers twitch, as if just now regaining the ability to move. 

Dave chuckles at you before pressing a hand to your abdomen and spitting onto your pussy, letting his saliva run down to where his cock is half-way disappeared inside of you. He repeats this action three times before there’s enough lubrication for him to slide the rest of the way in. 

“Tight little hole. All mine to ruin.” 

Dave grabs your face again, pinching your cheeks until you look at him through blurry eyes. As soon as they’re open, you can watch him spit on your face, already soaked from your own fluids. 

You heave, trying to control your breathing as he starts to rock in and out of you, keeping a firm grasp on your face. You need to let it happen, the sooner he gets what he wants, the sooner this is over. It needs to be over. Let it be over. 

His pace grows quicker and more harsh, a sob leaving you each time he punches into you with his thick cock. It hurts so much, always does when you’re dry like this. 

Suddenly, your arms are pulled above your head, Dave’s cock still shoved inside of you as he ties your wrists with the remnants of your panties. 

“I have something for you, slut,” Dave tells you, a tear slipping down your cheek as you keep trying to imagine yourself far away. 

That quickly becomes hard to do, because there’s suddenly a gross feeling coming from above your cunt and to the left. The feeling of your skin being sliced open. 

As soon as you realize what’s happening, a scream you didn’t know you had erupts from somewhere deep inside you. It’s full of an agonizing pain as your senses hone in on the way his pocket knife digs deeply. 

You know what he’s doing, what he’s threatened before. 

You know that the next time you look in the mirror, you’ll be able to see Dave York’s initials carved in front of your hip, deep enough to leave an ugly, jagged scar. 

Dave laughs as you scream and try to simultaneously move away and keep your body still. You don’t know what would be worse right now. 

It’s a white hot pain that courses through you as he moves on to the next letter, his movement sloppy from the way he still shallowly thrusts into you. The wetness of your blood dribbles down until it reaches his cock, making the glide easier yet as he pushes it back into you. 

He laughs even after your screaming stops, the shock taking over you and halting all reactions but the silent sobs that wrack your entire body. He pulls the knife away after a moment, after he’s sure he’s dragged the edge deep enough to be permanent.  

Your gaze focuses on the kitchen light again, and you can hear someone calling raspily for help. It’s weak and wet sounding, and you don’t quite understand where it’s coming from because you swear you’re not trying to say anything. 

“God damn,” Dave grits out. “Will you ever shut your whore mouth?” 

You suppose you do, because the sound stops, and the kitchen is filled with nothing but your whimpers and Dave’s moans. You can feel him getting close, the way he stutters and pulses. 

“Gonna come in this tight little pussy,” he grits, grinding himself down.

You don’t care what he’s going to do. You’d let him do anything to ensure that this will stop, that it won’t go on forever. You just want it to stop. 

You don’t realize he’s coming until he’s almost done. His seed stings as it hits your burning walls. 

You’ve stopped crying. Your throat’s dry, your eyes sting, your cheeks ache, your cunt throbs, your hips are littered with tender bruises, yet your mind is numb. 

Dave only lingers for a moment before he lifts off of you. He chuckles to himself as he says something, but you don’t think you could hear what even if you tried. Your hands fall limply away from each other as he uses his bloody pocket knife to cut away your restraints.

Your eyes close as he walks away, and you don’t try to open them again.

**** Thank you for reading, please lmk if you would like to join the countdown taglist <3

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Link to prompt list

[lipstickchainsaw]

Do you have any thoughts on the Burning Grey or Damsel routes? Because I found them both fascinating with the themes of agency and denial of agency, plus with how your shaping of the princess is most clear in the Damsel’s chapter.

I do think it’s very cool that Burning Grey somehow manages to be less creepy than normal old Damsel. Because yes, she’s trying to kill you, but also she appears to have thoughts and feelings and that is significantly less creepy than the hollow shell that is the Damsel.

I think the Burned Grey is fascinating for very much the reasons you describe, but let's talk Damsel first.

Because the Damsel is incredibly unsettling and it's a route that leaves a bad taste in my mouth (in a way the game intended, I mean).

I think a lot of the routes in Slay the Princess explore the theme of agency, especially how unequal power dynamics shape people involved in those exchanges, what resistance looks like in the face of someone having power over you, and whether any real respect or relationship can follow from it.

And the Damsel says 'no, it can't'.

Oh sure, it seems like she says 'yes, it can!' with all the enthusiasm of a chivalric romance, but it can only exist insofar as the Damsel stops existing as a person, only to the extent that she can sublimate her agency, her personality, her wishes, dreams and desires by fully giving into what the person who's there to kill her wants.

(You kill her with one stab, but she has so little power that in Chapter 1 she has to stab you countless times to finally end you.)

The Smitten doesn't care about this and is happy to fully dominate her personality away (which is why he's awful), until she becomes but a prop in the story he wants to tell, an endlessly adoring maiden who hangs off his every word but will, crucially, never express any desire or opinion of her own.

Basically, she doesn't exist.

(And when you try to discover what she does want, what person does exist underneath the adoring accommodation, her physical body becomes as well-defined as her mental existence.)

And you get there by trying, at every turn, to save her, by not considering her enough of a threat to take the knife, and not even bothering to let her try to free herself.

You have denied her any agency in Chapter 1, and thus you get the Damsel.

Crucially, she doesn't even resist when you kill her.

Instead, you then get the Burned Grey, and here's where things get interesting.

You see, the Damsel thought you loved her, and so she became the prop to your story, but you killed her, so clearly this isn't actually what you want.

But that doesn't make sense, because you loved her enough to try to save her the first time!

These contradictions finally spark a degree of agency once again, and the Burned Grey concludes that something is off. She loves you, and she knows you love her, but you keep killing each other.

So it has to be the location itself! It has to be the cabin itself, the entire thing set-up that is setting you at each other's throats even though you don't want to, and the only way to escape this cycle of violence and abuse is to destroy it!

And she's right! The cabin represents the Construct within itself, and the Creator specifically set it up for the Long Quiet to kill the Shifting Mound, and destroying it together is the only way for this to stop!

I think the only other Princess that comes this close to understanding what's actually happening might be the Wild (and possibly the Moment of Clarity, but I am not playing through the Nightmare again to figure that out, thank you).

And so, in a statement of love, empathy, finally finding one's agency, the Burned Grey tries to end this cycle.

By burning you to death.

[nerdieforpedro]

Day Twenty Six - Pattern

Word Count: 740

Warnings: slight angst

Notes: Joel and his patrol partner seem to be at a crossroads with their patterns even in spring.

Main Masterlist / March Spring Prompts 2024 / Writing Challenge

Two weeks had passed since the waterfall. Easy conversations about oddities around Jackson was shared between Joel and yourself. Hearing him laugh was an added treat to most of your patrols now. It helped that you were in sync when the occasional raiders popped up on the patrol route. On days off, you didn’t see Joel. You knew he relaxed and built different things around Jackson between him and his brother Tommy. That felt a bit much, to be seeking him out when not working.

It was Elle who found you first.

“Hey! You’re the old man’s partner aren’t you? You seem too damn cool for him.” The teenager chirped as you ate your lunch at the Tipsy Bison. You introduced yourself and chuckled at your designation. She wasn’t the first to call you that. Word had gotten around that besides Tommy, Joel only patrols with one other person: you. It was a source of pride for you but also concern as he should want to get to know other people, eventually.

“Joel doesn’t take to people well, usually pisses them off if they actually bother to talk to him on account of being scared shitless.” She plopped across from you as you finished your food. You nodded and said that you had noticed that. You added that if people had taken the time to talk to him, rather than react, they’d know he’s easy to reason with. Elle’s eyes widened with a grin. It looked entirely too mischievous. You didn’t like it at all and sought to excuse yourself but she followed you outside.

“You know, I think you should come by for dinner or lunch. Just to hang out. “ You thanked her for the invite and shook your head.

“Thanks Elle, but we’re patrol partners. We’ve got each other’s backs. That’s much more important than whatever you’re trying to make happen kiddo.”

Elle huffed as you walked away. Her chat with Joel that night didn’t go much better, even after she had gone as far as to pick some daffodils. “It ain’t happening Elle. Like they said, we’re patrol partners. That’s plenty.”

“It seems that’s why you too get along so well! Both of you have the same patterns of behavior! So annoying! You can’t even use the excuse that it’s too cold because it’s been spring for a few weeks.”

“Lay off it Elle. Either go study or sleep.”

“Old ass grump. You should be happy they wanna be your partner.” Elle stomped upstairs and studied for 15 minutes before Joel went to check on her and she was sleep. Covering her up and putting her books away, he knew she wasn’t wrong. Delivery was horrendous but that’s Elle. Joel just doesn’t think it’s a good idea. It’s taken this long to trust someone outside of his family to patrol the routes with. No point in complicating things. He wouldn’t let the flowers Elle picked go to waste though.

The next patrol was in two days so Joel kept them until then and popped them in his satchel along with his ammo, canteen and knife. You waved hello and he cleared his throat. Exchanging greetings, the two of you set out on your normal route and at the first rest stop, is when you heard Joel shuffling inside of his bag.

“You got something special in there Joel? Normally you’re in and out of that thing.” A joke you made lightly though Joel huffed and you turned with your palms facing up in confusion.

“Elle picked these for you. She…can be a bit pushy. But she’s a good kid. I figured you should still have them.” You take the flowers gingerly and nod, unsure of how to word how you’re feeling. It’s sweet that she thought of you, but you know this can’t go anywhere you’re just partners. Should you just say that?

“Tis’ fine. You don’t need to say nothin’ I feel the same way. It’s awkward. We should go.”

“You’re right Joel. You said it a lot better than I could have. Tell Elle thanks for the flowers anf thanks for bringing them.”

Joel lets you led for the time being as now you two alternate who leads different parts of the patrol. He’s curious as are you if trying a new pattern would be better or keeping the same one. The chirping of the birds as your boots tread the path before you both.

[meowcats734]

(prompt response) The ritual would be much easier to complete if his "friends" weren't cooking with the sacrificial knife and rare spices...

"Welcome to Ritual Magic 201," Mr. Ganrey said, tapping his cane on the floor as he walked down the rows of chairs. He was old, arthritic, and practically blind, and had probably been disqualified from fighting in the war for at least one of those reasons, but at least he could still help by training up the next generation of soldiers to throw into the grinder. Whoopee.

Still, despite my misgivings about the Silent Academy's less-than-noble intentions, I couldn't help but be excited for today's class. School was a lot less lonely with Lucet and Meloai to hang out with, and RM201 was a lab class; we didn't get to choose our partners for ourselves, but the class only had twenty or so people in it. Odds were we'd be spending quite a bit of time with each other.

Plus, this was the first course I'd taken at the Silent Academy that went beyond theory and into practice. I'd spent the past few weeks grabbing every attunement I could get my grubby little hands on, and I was itching to try them out.

No more helpless running and hiding from every threat. No more getting outmatched at every turn. This Cienne was growing claws, and the next time the world tried to bite me in the ass, I was going to swipe back.

"In light of recent events," Mr. Ganrey said, as if he was referring to a sports match and not a war, "we've decided to rearrange the curriculum a little. Topics such as realspace-anchored soul manipulation and memory-aided spell foci were deemed too theoretical in a time when we need immediate results, and as such, the first half of this course will focus on the creation and empowerment of friendly soulspace entities. In other words, the focus of today's lesson will be the summoning and binding of demons, angels, and other extraplanar creatures."

Meloai raised a hand, but Mr. Ganrey didn't see, despite looking straight at her. I grimaced. Mr. Ganrey's mundane eyesight was nearly gone, so he relied on his soulsight—but even though Meloai's soul fragment was beginning to grow in complexity, it was still tiny in comparison to a born human soul. I wouldn't be surprised if Meloai was entirely invisible to the poor teacher. 

"Please disperse to your assigned seats," Mr. Ganrey continued. In the corner, Iola and two of his new friends snickered as Meloai patiently kept her hand in the air.

"Just ask the question," Lucet whispered.

"Hm? Oh, okay. Mr. Ganrey?" she asked.

"Raise your hand first, Meloai," Mr. Ganrey said. More laughter from Iola's corner.

"I am," Meloai said, unperturbed.

Mr. Ganrey paused, adjusted his glasses, and cleared his throat. "Mm. Ah. Yes. Well. Your question, then, young lady?"

"I'm a soulspace entity myself—is what we're doing today going to be hazardous to me?"

"What planar domain?" Mr. Ganrey asked, absent-mindedly.

"Insecurity," Meloai said.

Mr. Ganrey shook his head. "The projection of the vectors of happiness and insecurity onto each other is present, but small. Don't assimilate any soul fragments you sense, but you should be otherwise fine. Alright, class, hop to it."

To my disgust, my assigned lab seat was next to Iola. Ugh, the man was worse than Odin. At least they'd left me alone after they'd stranded me in the Plane of Elemental Falsehood. I still had no idea what that was all about.

Iola waggled his eyebrows at me as I approached the lab desk, which held a utilitarian kitchen knife, a small, caged vole, and a bundle of sweet-smelling joyweed.

"If it isn't my favorite Redlander," Iola drawled, his elven halo pulsing in time with his words. "How're you enjoying my sloppy seconds? She's terrible in bed, isn't she?"

"I wouldn't know. Unlike you, I have a modicum of respect for other human beings. How're you enjoying the draft? Still begging to be let onto the front lines?" I shot back. The corners of Iola's eyes twitched as I brought up the draft—he'd been all too eager to go out and start killing people until the Academy told him that they weren't sending barely-trained students out to war. 

"The goal of today's class will be to create, empower, and summon a minor Demon of Happiness," Mr. Ganrey interrupted. "As you should have learned from Elemental Theory, demons, like all soulspace entities, are comprised of the memories of the dead."

"Wonder what kind of demon would pop up if I used this on you," Iola mused, tapping the knife on the desk.

"Dunno," I said. "What do elves summon when they die?"

"Over the centuries," Mr. Ganrey continued, "this has resulted in many a cult or nation deliberately inducing certain emotionally-charged memories in human subjects, then slaying them in order to form or feed demons of their desired emotion. Demons of Fear were a particularly notable historical example. However, memories are not a uniquely human notion, and in the modern day, human sacrifices are not needed to create such entities. We will be creating such an entity by training non-sentient animals to associate certain memories with joy, then sacrificing the animals and feeding the resulting, joy-charged soul shards to the entity that coalesces as a result." 

Huh. Made sense. To my left, Meloai raised her hand again—this time, Lucet raised her hand as well, so that Mr. Ganrey would see. "Yes, Lucet?" Mr. Ganrey asked.

"Actually, that was me, sir," Meloai said. "I have a question. By the first law of thaumatology, souls cannot be destroyed."

"Only changed in form," Mr. Ganrey agreed.

"So when we feed these soul fragments to a soulspace entity... or when, in general, a soulspace entity consumes a soul fragment... what happens?"

"An excellent observation," Mr. Ganrey said, "but one that is outside the scope of this class." Meloai pouted as Mr. Ganrey walked down through the aisles. "Now, in order to form the associated memories, we will have to perform some mundane classical conditioning upon the test subjects..."

The lab began, the small class of twenty laboring to form an association in the voles' tiny minds between the ringing of a bell and a sensation of sudden joy. To my surprise, Iola was a natural when it came to associating reward with a stimulus. Or punishment, for that matter, not that that was part of the lab—he just seemed to delight in watching the vole flinch whenever he snapped his fingers after the third time he'd struck the poor creature while doing so.

My budding attunements gave me greater insight into the soulspace of the vole, so I could tell when the vole's soul bloomed with dewdrops of joy at the ring of a bell, even when no herbs were supplied to follow it up with. Not wanting to let Iola have the dubious honor of sacrificing the vole—knowing him, he'd drag it out just to watch the poor thing suffer—I slit its throat with the sacrificial blade, killing it instantly.

The rest of the class was still catching up to Iola's freakishly good conditioning abilities, which left me some time to wait. I was going to ask if we were supposed to get started on a second vole when Iola picked up the corpse of the sacrifice and... started... cooking it.

Through my newfound suite of attunements, I could see the outlines of the spell he was using. Though joy normally manifested as dewdrops in soulsight, Iola's was something... different. Feverish, sickly, somehow. He pumped it into the vole, the dewdrops accelerating to terrifying speeds as they neared its body, and the vole's body started smoking. Was he... was he cooking the vole with light? Was that even possible?

"What... what are you doing?" I asked, faintly nauseated.

"Hmm?" Iola started skinning the vole with the sacrificial knife. "I'm hungry. Want some?"

"No!" I shuddered, turning away as he rolled up the joyweed into a rough lump and ignited it with a focused beam of light, then tried to smoke it. I was pretty sure he miserably failed by the spluttering that ensued, but I didn't want to know. 

"You should all be done with your voles by now," Mr. Ganrey said. "Fanwyn, you killed yours too early. Iola, take that out of your mouth."

Iola took the magically-cooked vole out of his mouth, scowling, as Mr. Ganrey stepped into the center of the room. A small metal box stood on a dais.

"None of you, with the possible exception of Iola, are capable of opening a sustained rift into the Plane of Elemental Radiance," Mr. Ganrey said. "As such, I will perform this part myself."

The dewdrops that Mr. Ganrey used weren't the strange, sickly, endless torrent of joy that flowed through Iola's soul. But they were far, far more controlled. I watched as the tiny droplets of joy were, somehow, compressed, becoming dense, almost-solid specks before being flung into the metal box.

There was no sound when the rift opened. But the beams of pure, unceasing light that slipped through the cracks at the corners were painfully bright to look at, and I instinctively turned away.

Mr. Ganrey rang a bell—the same bell that we had used to train the voles—and waited for one heartbeat, two. The terrible light from within the box began to fade.

Then he opened the box's door.

A small, chittering vole made of pure light was sniffing around in the center of the box. When Mr. Ganrey rang the bell, its head perked up, and it scampered onto Mr. Ganrey's arm to reach it.

Moments later, the period bell rang, and the Demon of Joy scampered away in search of another, larger bell to follow. Mr. Ganrey tried to grab at it, but the nimble little creature effortlessly avoided his grasp. He rubbed his forehead, grumbling to himself, before regaining his composure.

"That concludes today's lab section on demon summoning," Mr. Ganrey finished. "Be back here the same time tomorrow." He paused, sighed, and added one last thing.

"Oh. And five points extra credit to anyone who can track down that damn demon. We'll need it for tomorrow's class."

A.N.

This prompt was written by my Patreons!

Soulmage is a serial written in response to writing prompts. Stick around for more episodes, or join my Discord to chat about it!

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[kkuracafe]

A/n: Didn't know what character to do so it's any character you'd like to insert or request a specific version.

@thelocal-idiot

TW: Stalking, gore, murder, yandere.

Rating: 13+

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

"Her" w/ Any Character

You guy were a happy couple, you'd go on dates all the time, even planned on moving in together. You favourite event was when you two went to the annual festival.

"Come here let's take a photo to remember this day when we're old!" He shouted over to you, instead you ended up falling in the kale and splashing each other till you both were crying from laughing so much, he helped you out and dried you off before wrapping you up in his arms.

Your worst memory is when he said he didn't love you anymore.

"I'm home." He shouted from the entry way, you sprinted over to him and hugged him tightly, barely noticing now he tensed up. You leaned up to give him a kiss on the lips but he turned away to hang up his coat. You didn't realize at first, till you both laid in his bed and he let out a sigh before sitting up.

"You know I don't want to hurt you, right?"

"What? What's wrong honey?"

"I'm sorry..I can't be with you anymore, I just fell out of love." He gave you a pitiful look and smile. A single tear dropped rolled down your cheek and all you did was nod, grab your purse and run out of his house.

You were over him. That's what you told yourself ever night. You were just sad one year went to waste. Till you saw him with your best friend. Hatred bloomed in your chest, you were no longer sad. You felt hatred, jealousy. You wanted to be her, you wanted to have him. He was yours not hers.

Finally the day came, it was just you two. She fixing up her hair infront of the bathroom mirror, you stood behind her and cleaned your throat.

"How's your boyfriend?" You asked innocently. You slowly inched the knife our of you sleeve into your hand.

"Hes good, hows yours?" She said, applying more blush. You didn't answer just stared into her eyes through the mirrors reflection. This seemed to make her scared as she spun around but you were fast, trained if you dare say. How do you think you even got a boyfriend in the first place, by asking? No, he wouldn't of noticed you if you didn't elimate everyone else.

You stabbed her in the chest, as she fell back against the wall with how much force you put into it. Blood fell onto your hands and the floor. She tried pulling the knife out but it was too deep and painful. You watched as the life drained from her eyes, her skin paled as you stood above her, feeling superior.

You exited the washroom and brought I'm your duffle bag. You shaved her hair before putting it perfectly into a bag. You dissected her body into pieces before throwing it into the trash bags you brought. You took out the knife and cleaned it in the bathroom sink.

After disposing of everything, you went to the hair salon and told the lady to turn the hair into a wig for you. After days of perfecting her makeup you even got surgery to look like her. It was perfect. He thought you were her..but he left again. He found out. He went to get the police. Before you were taken by them you stabbed him too. You waited by the door covered in his blood as they came and took you away.

If you couldn't have him no one could.

[gretchensinister]

Yellow/Gold

Happy 10 years, Rise of the Guardians and Rise of the Guardians fandom! I offer you today what I have always offered: weird blacksand.

So, at one point I thought, yellow and gold are not that far from each other. And I thought, what is the solid lore around the King in Yellow? I read Chambers’ book (the origin point) and there’s very little! You can do almost anything you want with the King in Yellow. And you know I like an eldritch Sandy, and also a Sandy that’s really toning it down to be a Guardian but is really a much more powerful and ambiguous figure. And you know who accepts that? Pitch. And so without further ado, one of my shorts (861 words):

*

Yellow.

Gold.

The difference between the two can be subtle, one changing to the other with a trick of the light, a trick of the eye, a trick of the mind.

Yellow.

Gold.

They’re always something, but what are they? The bright ubiquity of dandelions, the starburst before the wish; the sickly hue of jaundice, sign of some deep fault within the body; the sun that gives warmth; the sun that burns.

Many have gone mad for gold as metal; perhaps still more have gone mad for the lack of yellow petals.

Yellow.

Gold.

Gold is round, bounded, filling the mouth from the back of the throat to the tip of the tongue like a greedily large bite of some sweet, ripe fruit. Yellow is open-ended, full of air, allowing the tongue only the briefest taste of its center before it becomes only breath and tones once more.

Yellow.

Gold.

The golden hour turns the world soft and magic just before sunset, profligate beauty running liquid over everything like a burst egg yolk.

What of a yellow hour? Can it be imagined? Is it a merciless hot noon in a dry land, still and endless with no hope of shade or night? Or is it midnight in some inhuman city, sodium lights and neon reflecting out from cars’ darkened windows, up from puddles and wet pavement, yellow all in fragments, streaks, and dashes, sending messages in a code indifferent to the human soul?

Yellow.

Gold.

A once-was man walks along a beach of golden sand and contemplates both gold and yellow. He is neither, he is closer to nothing, a thin, dark shadow (like those crafted by the golden hour?), clothed in the fearful uncertainty of featureless darkness. The flesh that marks him as a once-man is gray, and though it borrows little from its cousin silver, still, there is something of him that reflects. The gold of the sand lingers on him where it can, and prevents him from looking out of place in this no-place he walks.

He smiles. One blink: he opens his eyes on the golden beach with pillowy dunes coaxing him down a curving path to a sandcastle swirling upward in towers like the wildest dreams of whelks. Above, the sky twinkles with large, warm stars, and the sky they float in is a rich and shifting violet-blue. Even the dark sea is clearly blue, not black. The faint mermaid songs he hears do not call him toward the water; they are only sweet lullabies.

What a dreamland.

He grins. Another blink: the waves are now roiling clouds, deep gray, threaded through with filaments of every color his eyes can see (far more than when he was a man). Two suns, dim—but yellow—hang low in the sky above the cloudy sea. Golden hour from yellow suns? His shadow, taller and thinner but not blacker than he himself, points like a knife-stroke over humped dunes like crouching beasts toward not simply a castle but a breathtaking ruin of a city, all of yellow stone. Two pallid moons have already crested the tallest towers. Between the moons and the suns, the sky is scattered with black stars in constellations to fill any unknown void in an astronomer’s heart. These are as black as his robe. He had a hand in them. He was invited.

What a dreamland.

Blink. The sandcastle. Blink. The ruins. A change, every time. This is a gift. Or a punishment. He has gazed on yellow, on gold, with the kind of terrible desire that swallows whole. And for this affront or this devotion, his own eyes were ringed in yellow, in gold, and they reveal to him the dreamlands.

No more a man but long a king, he winds through the dunes toward the sandcastle, toward the ruins, toward the labyrinth. Yes, it is always a labyrinth, no matter what face it shows. But he has a clue to find the center: the voiceless call of the king who has summoned him.

*

The heart of the labyrinth waits for no blinks to change, and neither does its king. If this king was once a man, he wears it far more lightly than the king in black. This has never troubled the king in black, he can recognize what he craves no matter what he sees. And what he recognizes is the king of the dreamlands. All of the dreamlands, from the sweet to the bitter.

This king, in his sumptuous drifting, floating robes.

This king, in yellow.

This king, in gold.

The king in black steps forward, drawn irresistibly by the only being like him he has ever known. By the being who is most unlike him in every one of the infinite worlds that converge at this omphalos. By a sweet face and a tender, sleepy smile. By a dozen writhing boneless limbs of awesome strength and breathtaking perversion.

The king in black rakes his hands over the yellow robe, the golden robe, leaving it in tatters. The king of the dreamlands wants to be seen, and so he will see him. (See gold. See yellow.)

“No mask?”

No mask!

[charliedawn]

How would the Hannibal family react to (the is basically a different version of the Kevin and Peter thing) their son’s (including Morgan) running away from the reader with flour on them and a happy smile on their face. Basically they were cooking together and them and reader started throwing flour at each other. How about that?

Hannibal Sr. had been released early from his solitary confinement and had decided to go see his family.

Unfortunately, said family didn't expect him to come back early and had invited you to the house.

As you didn't know each other yet, the Hannibals hadn't thought worth mentioning your existence to the oldest Hannibal, as they knew he would probably not welcome it.

So, when Hannibal Sr. took a step inside the house and found it in complete disarray with white flour everywhere and his children running around like wild animals..He didn't exactly approve.

Hannibal Sr. doesn't tolerate chaos and waited until one of his children notice him.

Finally, it was Morgan who froze in place, a handful of flour still in his hand as he was about to throw it on Kevin.

Hannibal Sr. then frowned as he saw you. He hadn't been informed of your presence and if he wasn't angry before, he certainly was now..

"Well...Hello there. And who might you be ?"

He asked you, even though there was no warmth in his smile and the boys knew what that meant. Morgan and Peter immediately stepped up and tried to explain themselves.

Peter : "They're a friend from school !"

Morgan : "We were baking a pie and things got out of hand. We apologize, father."

Kevin *who stayed behind* : "Why are you two apologizing ? We were just having fun.."

Morgan immediately turned towards Kevin and glared warningly at him.

"Kevin. Shut up and come apologize. Now."

He was scared of what Hannibal Sr. would do if he didn't and even though he knew Kevin wasn't an idiot, he didn't want to put Hannibal Sr.' patience to the test.

Kevin crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head negatively.

"Nah. I ain't apologizing for baking a damn pie."

Hannibal Sr. tilted his head at Kevin's rebellious behavior and hummed.

"I see. If that's how it is.."

He suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled out a pocket knife from his bag, putting the sharp edge against your throat as all the three boys froze.

"Never forget, boys. You chose this family. And I will not allow dissidence in this household."

You tried to get away from his grip, but Hannibal Sr. applied pressure, enough to draw blood.

"You all seem to have forgotten your good manners. Let me refresh your memory."

Kevin quickly understood his mistake at the sight of your blood and stood on his feet, ready to apologize, but Peter beat him to it.

"I'm sorry, father. Let them go. Please. We shouldn't have.."

Hannibal Sr. cut him off.

"No. You shouldn't have indeed. You invited a stranger to our household. You made a mess of our current residence. And worst of all, you didn't mind telling me about our unexpected new visitor. We are all criminals in this house. And our very existence needs to remain secret. So, I'll ask once and you better all have an answer for me. Who decided to bring this child to our home ?"

The three of them remained silent and you were about to speak when Hannibal Sr. gripped your arm a little tighter in warning.

"And do not tell me the stranger decided to break in and bake a pie and you just decided to join in..Now, who was it ?"

Finally, Morgan took a step forward with his head hanging low in shame.

"I'll take the blame. I'm the oldest."

Peter shook his head and took a step forward as well.

"No ! It was me. I thought we could trust them. And, I still do."

A heavy silence settled as the two brothers turned towards the last one. They thought he would join, but he only shrugged.

"What ? It wasn't my idea.."

Morgan rolled his eyes. He should have known.

"It was me."

Suddenly, all heads turned towards the main door where Hannibal Jr. was standing, bags of groceries at his feet.

"Do not be mad at them, father. They are children. Besides, I allowed it."

The three of the boys looked at their uncle in surprise.

He was lying.

None of them had asked for his permission, as they all thought the both of them to be out for the day.

But, it seemed to be enough for Hannibal Sr. who sighed before nodding.

"Ah. I see.."

He let go of you and the three youngest Hannibals dragged you away from their father as Hannibal Sr.' smile widened.

"Everything makes sense now. Sorry, children. My son simply forgot to inform me of your decision."

Hannibal Jr. involuntarily shuddered as his father walked past him.

"As it is your first misdemeanor. I'll be indulgent. But, do not forget who the real head of this family is, alright son ?"

Hannibal Jr. nodded wordlessly and Hannibal Sr. walked away.

Once he was out of sight, Hannibal Jr. turned towards the four of you and his expression darkened.

"Never do that again, understood ?"

The three Hannibals nodded in unison before Hannibal Jr. sighed and tucked up his sleeves.

"Now, let's see if we can patch up that poor dear, shall we ?"

Fortunately, the cut wasn't deep and Hannibal Jr. quickly took care of it. He then asked the boys to leave the two of you alone and even if they hesitated for a second, they trusted their uncle enough to obey.

Hannibal Jr. *waits until the three boys are out of sight before turning back towards you* : "I must warn you that my father is a very dangerous man and now that he is aware of your existence, he may come after you. So, I'll ask you. Are you willing to risk it to remain by my nephews' sides ?"

You *smile and nod* : "More than ever, sir."

Hannibal Jr. sighed before finally smiling up at you.

"That's all I wanted to hear.."

You turned around quickly and found Hannibal Sr. standing there with a wide smile on his face.

"I must admit..I was skeptical when my son told me about you. I was sure that you would be another one of those people who were only interested in my boys to get to me or my money..I am relieved to hear that I was wrong about you."

His eyes settled on the band-aid at the level of your neck and smiled apologetically at you.

"I had to make sure of your loyalty first. But, please. Allow me to introduce myself once more."

He took a step forward and extended his hand towards you with a smile he hoped would appear genuine.

"Y/N. Y/N L/N."

"Dr Hannibal Sr. Lecter. But, you can call me Hannibal Sr."

You stared at his outstretched hand before finally taking it with a smile, ready to forgive him if it meant you would be allowed to spend more time with the Hannibal brothers.

[iambutmortal]

We’ll Do No More Than Try Our Best

Summary: Azriel knew the rumors of monstrous women lurking in the woods were nothing more than that. Rumors. Until he’s tied to one of their alters.

Pairing: Gwynriel

Word Count: 2k

Content Warnings: Dubcon, mentions of sexual assault, body horror

Read on AO3

This is technically a sequel to this fic but you can read it separately. Also happy late halloween/Samhain!

Azriel loved Samhain. Relished in the way the mortals celebrated his return, the lengthening of the nights only feeding his power.

He’d spent most of the past several centuries celebrating with his brothers in Rhys’ court, the parties thrown somehow grander, more debauched, than usual. But tonight he’d ventured out, tempted by talk of priestesses lurking in the woods of Gaeledonia.

The disguise had been easy, leashing the shadows that swirled around him, made up his body, and masking the skeletal wings sprouting from his back. He was more mortal than God of Night, and Azriel was grateful for it as he saw the first flickers of flames between the trees.

He knew the rumors weren’t true, knew the whispers of monstrous women lurking in the woods were nothing more. That the men who supposedly disappeared every Samhain were just a coincidence. 

Rhys had gifted his wife the temple as an anniversary present only a few decades ago, a place for women to escape if needed. Feyre had been nothing but gentle in the century he’d known her, brought out a kinder side of his brother. No, the men who spread those rumors were just scared that more women would flee their treatment if they knew there was a safe place.

As he got closer, Azriel could make out the white robed figures dancing around the burning pyre, moving in time with the chanting coming from the small group. It was less singing and more of a wail that rang through the still night air.

Azriel let it lead him closer, drawn forward by one voice that seemed to ring louder than the rest. The air around him seemed to be humming, vibrating with magic that could only come from the Gods.

Feyre was here, at least in presence.

Azriel didn’t realize how close he’d drawn until he felt the sharp strike on the back of his head.

The mortal body he’d trapped himself in collapsed, falling forward onto the leaf strewn ground. He felt hands reach for him as the world went dark, fading out around him.

-

Azriel woke in chains.

He was tied to a flat stone slab directly in front of the bonfire. Rough wool had been shoved in his mouth and Azriel forced himself not to gag around it.

He lifted his head as much as the irons allowed him too, a quick glance telling him he wasn’t the only one trapped, that there were three other men tied up, all on different slabs. They were still unconscious, Azriel having healed faster than them even in mortal form.

The priestesses were waiting for him to wake up, staring solemnly from around the pire. The flickering firelight revealed more of their bodies, and with dawning horror, Azriel realized the rumors were true.

The women were only half human. The other half was all gnashing teeth and sharp claws. Features distorted and half monstrous. They stared with preternatural silence, anticipation hanging thick in the air.

From the darkness came three hooded figures, dressed not in white but bright, blood red robes. Each headed to a different man as the rest of the crowd watched on, their faces twisted into jeers of encouragement.

Azriel watched, trapped, as one of the robed figures approached  him. Her hand held a knife, the gleaming hilt trembling in her grasp.

Slowly, so achingly slowly, she held the knife towards him, the tip just inches away from his throat.

“My offering to the goddess, may she accept this sacrifice in her name.” Azriel couldn’t help but smirk. He highly doubted Feyre would accept him as an offering. No matter how many times he offered himself in service to her, willing to play with both his brother and the lovely goddess, she’d never taken him up on it.

The priestess lowered the knife to the ground, placing it in the dirt, point still facing him, before rising back to her feet. “And as Feyre was changed to show her alliance to Rhys, King of the Night, and to escape the hands of Tamlin,” she, her voice a lovely melody, the same lovely melody that had drawn him near, “so will I be changed to escape the bonds of mankind.”

Those same trembling hands went to the clasp of her robe, undoing it. The fabric fell to the ground and Azriel felt the breath leave his lung as he took in the bare woman in front of him.

She was all creamy white skin and freckles, dusty pink nipples peaked against the cold of the night air. His eyes dropped lower, to the red curls hiding her pussy from his view.

“Praise be the mother,” the priestess finished, taking another step towards him.

Azriel’s gaze flicked to her face, the bright teal eyes staring at him with blatant fear. More freckles dotted her nose, and her full lips parted slightly. Azriel swore he’d never seen a more beautiful female in his life, not even the goddesses he chose to spend his time around could compare.

Her hands were still trembling as she lowered them to the laces of his pants. She took them off clumsily, fumbling and dropping the strings that held the flaps shut several times. Azriel made himself hold still, leaning slightly into her touch.

He wasn’t sure what she intended, but he knew he wanted her. Wanted to taste the juice from between her thighs, to feel her coming around him. Silently, he cursed the gag in his mouth. It would be so easy to break himself free from these bonds, to make the priestess feel as good as he knew he could, but he knew how the mortal would respond. Azriel didn’t think he could bear her running from him.

The priestess finally managed to get the laces undone, pulling his pants down to his ankles. Her hands were more steady now, some of the shaking removed.

At least until she reached for his erect penis. And then Azriel remembered why she was here, standing in these woods with the other women, and bile rose up in his throat. He was going to kill whoever hurt her, utterly destroy them body and soul. And then he was going to hunt down whoever was making her do this now.

Slowly, tentatively,  the priestess ran a finger along his length. Azriel couldn’t contain his shudder. The touch felt good, too good.

And then the priestess was crawling over his body, lowering herself down onto him.

Azriel’s back arched into her touch, a moan ripping out from behind the gag as she sucked him deep into her warmth.

The priestesses movements were clumsy, and Azriel tried to angle his hips up to meet her, to hit the spot deep within her he knew would have her seeing stars.

Above him, the woman was becoming breathless, rough gasps escaping her lips. Azriel fought against the bonds, lifting his hips just a bit more.

The rest of the women were chanting again, more of that strange wailing. And then he heard the first male voice, a loud yell just barely audible over the din. Two more joined him, harsh sobs and cries.

The priestess rode him harder, hips rolling faster as release overtook her. Black shadows seemed to escape from where they were joined. He knew they weren’t his, but Azriel could feel the magic of the Night soaking the air as they climbed up the priestesses skin. They seemed to concentrate at two points along her hairline, and the priestess threw her head back and screamed as two black spires burst through her scalp. Blood dripped down her face, down onto Azriel’s chest as they continued to grow, curving horns reaching up to the sky.

Through it all, she continued to thrust against him, and Azriel couldn’t contain himself as he came, spilling into her.

The altar around them was smattered with blood, and the priestess reached down to remove the cloth stuffed in his mouth.

She slid off him, reaching back to grab the knife she’d left in the dirt.

Her knuckles turned white with how hard she gripped it, her hands once again trembling.

“Praise be the mother,” she whispered, and stabbed him.

Around the blade, Azriel turned to shadows, the weapon sinking down to the stone below him.

“I think that’s enough, priestess,” Azriel purred, dissolving around the bonds that held him and rising to his feet.

The priestess scrambled back, landing amongst the leaves. The others were realizing something was wrong, the wailing fading to silence.

Azriel dropped the glamor, revealing his true self. He faded in and out of existence, half shadow half man, except for where his hands would be. Those were nothing but swirling blackness, dark voids. Skeletal wings protruded from his back, skin full of holes stretched over the visible white bone. 

The woods filled with the sound of rustling leaves as the women fled, disappearing back into the darkness.

All except for the red headed priestess at his feet.

Azriel bent down, picking the knife.

“Your name?” he asked, pointing the blade towards her.

The woman swallowed. “Gwyneth.”

“Gwyneth,” Azriel repeated, rolling the name along his tongue. He liked the way it sounded.

“Most call me Gwyn,” she added.

Azriel raised an eyebrow. “Am I most people?”

Gwyn raised her chin defiantly. “I would like to die with you knowing who I am.”

“Do you think you’re going to die?” Azriel asked, flipping the blade back and forth in his hand.

“I accept my fate,” Gwyn said, eyes flashing with challenge.

Azriel’s grin was feral. “I’m glad, wife.”

The shadows swirled thick around them both, blocking out the woods.

When they pulled back, the two of them were standing in Azriel’s palace, a place only his brothers and Mor knew existed. The whole castle seemed to be made out of darkness, solid black walls and windows made to block out the sunlight. In his private chambers, it was even darker, just enough light from the flickering torches to make out the outline of Gwyn’s figure.

“Welcome home,” Azriel announced.

Gwyn reached up, grabbing the knife from him. “It’s a good blade, if it can reveal a god,” she said.

Azriel chuckled. “A truth teller.”

Gwyn stared at him. “What do you want from me? Shall I repent.”

Azriel shook his head and took a step back towards the bed in the center of the room. Gwyn followed, tossing the blade down on the nightstand.

“I want to make you my wife.”

 Azriel lay back on the bed, dragging Gwyn down with him and up his body, seating her firmly above his face.

Gwyn responded instinctively, grinding against his eager mouth. Azriel licked a stripe down her pussy, lapping at the desire pooled there. Gwyn’s answering moan seems to have the whole palace shaking and she sunk down further.

Shadows licked up her body, stroking and prodding at her breasts and inner thighs, driving her pleasure higher. Azriel sucked her clit into his mouth at the same time one of his shadows flicked at a peaked nipple.

Gwyn fell apart above him for the second time that night, and her scream of pleasure had all the glass shattering from his windows.

Moonlight poured into the room and Gwyn seemed to glow along with it, the same internal light all the gods had.

Azriel’s shadows ghosted up the length of her horns, settling around her forehead like a crown. He smiled up at her. “All hail the new goddess of music.”

Gwyn hummed, sliding down him to once again slot herself onto his once again hard cock.

Later, when they were both finally sated, Gwyn rested her head on his chest as his wings wrapped around her, dark shadows stroking her hair and those new horns, blood still crusted around him, that Azriel asked the question he longed to.

“Do I need to hunt them down?”

Gwyn understood, reaching out to grab the knife off the table. “I already did. Who do you think the other three men were?”

Azriel pressed a kiss to her forehead, wrapped his wings tighter around her, and thanked the mother for what she’d brought into his life.

[imtooscaredforthis]

Antagonist

Chapter Fourteen: Fight

Mentions of: Arguments, Threats, Knives, Stabbing, Blood, Manipulation, + Heavy Angst

A/N: Yet another angsty chapter for you guys…

Tags: @vandeaad @mama-miya @moonshineinasippycup @dead-bxxxtch-walking @prettycutebunny @froegis

It’s been a while since you last saw Susie or any other member of The Legion, for a matter of fact. Which isn’t surprising. You know Susie is mad at you, and that the others don’t give a shit about you. You haven’t even had them in any trials, and maybe that’s a good thing.

Then again, it’s been quite dull without Susie around. All you do is talk to Bill, Leon, and a few of the other survivors. But you never have fun like you do with Susie.

You miss when she would randomly show up at the campfire to hang out. You miss guessing when and where you would see her next. But most importantly, you miss her.

You didn’t think you would miss her this much, but you do, and you don’t know how to feel about it. You don’t know how to handle it.

Luckily for you, you ended up in another trial with her. The moment you spotted her bright pink hair, you felt a mix of relief and anxiety washing over you. You’re happy to see her again, but you’re not sure she feels the same.

Even though you’re reluctant and afraid, you know that now’s finally your chance to clear things up with her, and you might not get that chance again for a while.

Before you could even look for her, she came to you, sprinting towards you with her knife raised in the air. Seems like she’s not interested in talking.

“Susie, wait-” You called to her, but she didn’t respond, swinging her knife at you instead, and cutting your side.

You cried out in pain, grabbing at the open wound, trying to stop the rush of blood. She grabbed her head, feeling her adrenaline rush getting to her, making her stop. “Go, _____. I’m not talking to you.”

“I know you’re mad, but just- give me a chance to explain, please.” You tried to reason with her. She let out a long sigh.

“Fine, just….give me some time.”

And so, you waited until she killed off all your teammates, leaving only you and her on the trial grounds. While searching for hatch, you found her, standing in front of the abandoned storehouse.

She led you over to some boxes, taking a seat on one, across from you. She then pulled down her hood, and took off her mask, revealing a serious expression on her face. Yeah, she’s pissed.

You cleared your throat, trying to find the right words. “So-”

“So..?” She repeated, an eyebrow cocked as she looked at you expectantly, while she fiddled with her knife. You took a deep breath.

“I wanted to apologize for what happened at the lodge. It was rude and inconsiderate and dangerous for me to be showing up out of nowhere. I should’ve waited to ask you to make sure you were okay with it. I’m sorry.”

Her expression softened slightly at your words. “It’s not just that…Julie doesn’t like survivors in general, but after she found out what happened between you and Frank when you first met, I don’t think you two should interact with each other.”

“Wait, wait, wait, so this is because of Julie? You’re mad, because Julie knows we’re friends?” You realized.

“Well yeah, but-”

“Listen, I don’t know who this Julie bitch is, and I know this is probably none of my business, but you should be allowed to be friends with whoever you want to. That’s not her choice, it’s yours.” You told her.

That made her laugh. “I wish it was that easy. With Julie, whatever she says, goes. You can say the same for Frank, but he’s much less bad about stuff like this.”

“And you’re friends with these shitheads? Now, I’m not trying to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do, but they don’t seem right for you.” You remarked.

“Well, it’s not like I could leave them, even if I wanted to. We basically live together. I’ve known Julie ever since I was little, and Joey’s good to me. Yeah, Frank and Julie can be a bit controlling, but they look out for me and take care of me. We’re like family.” She went quiet for a moment, before speaking again, seeming irritated with you.

“This is none of your business anyways. We barely know each other, and you’re trying to say what’s best for me. Seems more like you’re the controlling one, always babying me and acting like you know best. I can take care of myself just fine, and I don’t need some stranger telling me what to do.”

She hissed, and you’re getting bad memories of when you used to fight with your sister. And she called you a stranger? Ouch.

You let out a shaky sigh, trying to remain calm. Trying to hold in all the anger, sadness, and fear. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that about your friends, it wasn’t any of my business. But I’m not a stranger. I know you know that. I’m your friend, and I don’t say anything because I’m trying to control you or tell you what to do. I just want to help-”

“There you go again, babying me like some little kid. Well, I’m not a little kid and I don’t need your help! You don’t even know me, and stop acting like you do. You know why? I’m the Legion, and you? You’re nobody.” She got to her feet, glaring at you and pointing at you with her knife, a familiar murderous rage reawakening inside her.

She’s not thinking clearly, you can tell. The Entity’s mind tricks are getting to her, making her angry about things that don’t even make sense.

“Calm down. I’m not trying to hurt you or anything, I just want to help you. It’s me, please, please listen to me. I know you’re there.” You pleaded with her, but she didn’t listen.

She raised the knife, stepping closer and closer to you. “Please just let me help you, Allison!”

Both of you stopped, realizing your mistake. You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, and you grabbed your mouth, unable to speak.

“Who’s Alison?” You couldn’t look her in the eyes anymore. “My sister.”

She lowered her knife. “Just go and find hatch, before I change my mind.”

[cha0ticspacebi]

You're An Image Caught in Time: Chapter 10

You got your soulmark when you were very young. You knew who you hoped had left their mark but since they never said anything to you, you resigned yourself to a life of bitter unrequited love. As much as you wanted to meet your soulmate you knew after all these years they must not want to meet you. Though the mark never faded some days you wished it would. Especially after meeting Billy.

☆ You can find me over on A03 as Cha0ticBi ☆ Master list link!

Childhood Friends! Eddie Munson X Reader

Tags: 18+ NSFW (MDNI), slowish burn soulmate AU, reader is in an abusive relationship with Billy Hargrove, Dark! Billy, Eddie is a sweetheart but bad at feelings, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, eventual happy ending

Warnings: rape/non con elements, emotional and physical abuse, graphic depictions of violence, suicidal thoughts

Chapter 10/28 Previous chapter → Next chapter

The forest was quiet as you walked through the trees towards the picnic table Eddie told you to meet at. It was nearly night and you had trouble seeing where you were going. Suddenly you heard what sounded like footsteps behind you. Relief washed over your face and your eyes brightened now that Eddie was here with you but when you turned around instead of seeing that curly mop of brown hair and soft smile, you froze. 

“You’ve been a very bad girl,” the gruff voice said. The glow of a cigarette hanging from the side of his evil smirk illuminated just his chin and the top of his denim jacket, “Running away like that wasn’t a good idea was it? Look where you ended up. Right back here with me, where you belong.”

You stepped back, too afraid to speak. Your hands reached out behind you hoping to reach out and find Eddie waiting to protect you. All your fingers caught was air. Desperately you keep grasping an empty hand into the wind as Billy gets closer 

“What did I tell you sugar? You’ll always be mine. No one else wants you,” he pulled his knife out, “Now come here and let me finish what I started.”

A tree beach knocked into the small window at the back of Eddie’s bedroom startling you awake with a gasp. You were in Eddie’s bed. Trying to catch your breath and shake the feeling of the nightmare off, you realize you’re alone. Your heart races as you can’t get the images out of your mind. Your breath shudders as you exhale quietly and slowly your breath begins to regulate again as you repeat over and over in your mind. It was just a dream, he’s not here.   

You can hear voices coming from beyond the door to Eddie’s room, you know it’s rude to eavesdrop but you also learned early in life that it was better to know what you were walking into before opening a door.  You quietly tiptoed to the door and listened. You could hear Eddie’s voice talking to his uncle. Eddie’s voice sounded like he’d been crying.

“It was horrible Wayne! You should have seen her. This is all my fault, if I hadn’t lied to her for so long maybe she never would have been with him at all.”

Uncle Wayne’s words comforted both of you, “Son you can’t think like that. You’re with her now and that’s all that matters. You can be here for her now. Which is what she needs. I knew long before that mark on your arm showed up that you two were meant for each other,” you couldn’t see but you imagine Uncle Wayne hugged Eddie and patted his back. You took a deep breath and opened the door to join them. 

“Good morning,” your dry and scratchy throat still sounded asleep.

Eddie hurried over to you, “I’m sorry princess did we wake you? I wanted to be there when you woke up.”

You shook your head no, “I appreciate that Eddie,” you hugged him tightly and he kissed the top of your head.

“Good to have you back kiddo,” Eddie released you long enough for you to hug his uncle and then grab on to you again. Uncle Wayne took a sip of his coffee, “Didn’t you say something about a science thing today son?”

You and Eddie looked at each other, with everything that happened yesterday you both forgot! 

“I can go do the presentation alone sweetheart. I think you should stay here and rest.”

You smiled but shook your head no again, “I’ll be ok, I promise. I think I’ll feel better being with you than here alone with my thoughts.” Eddie frowned.

“Did you have a nightmare?”

You nod, you can’t help but feel like a child the way he asks, “I’m not a kid anymore Eddie, I’ll be fine. Let’s go show the world what we can do!” You show him your best superhero pose, flexing your arms and turning around to point towards your soulmark, “We need a team name! Are there any bat monsters in dungeons and dragons?”

“One time I had the party fight a hoard of demobats, they are twisted bat like creatures without eyes, like a million teeth, and tails?”

“Yeah! We can be team demobat! It sounds fierce and deadly!” Both of them laugh and Uncle Wayne almost spills his coffee. 

“Good to know your spirit hasn’t dwindled,” Uncle Wayne finished the coffee and went to bed. He patted Eddie on the shoulder, “You need anything, call and I’ll come up there.”

Eddie grinned, “I have a feeling she’s going to have quite the security detail today.”

After you got dressed Eddie helped you up into his van and in the back you noticed he’d already put the poster and other materials for your display. He drove to the school and as he pulled in you chuckled a little to yourself, “Did you ever picture yourself coming to school at 9 am on a Saturday for a science fair?”

“Never in a million years,” he laughed before cutting the engine and running around the hood to open your door for you.

Your pulse quickened. Sweat beads collected on the back of your neck. Suddenly you were back in the blue Camaro and Billy was dragging you from his passenger seat and pushing your body down a hill. Your body twitched and jumped as Eddie opened the door for you. You cried out in a whimper and covered your ears.

“Hey…you ok?” his voice pulled you back from the abyss. You felt tears pull at your eyes.

“Did I do something wrong?” Eddie gripped the passenger door.

You panicked, “No no! It’s my fault. I’m sorry, you were right Eddie. I should have listened to you and stayed home.” You closed your eyes and held your head in your hands begging for forgiveness.

Eddie grit his teeth, muttering to himself, “Hargrove is a fucking dead man.” 

You felt his hands on the back of your neck massaging your soulmark, that comforting feeling spread slowly throughout your body helping to calm you down. Clairity returned as Eddie’s voice was able to reach you, “Hey princess, come on back. You’re safe with me. I promise.”

Now you wanted to cry for a different reason. You told Eddie you’d be able to handle it and here you are a mess because he tried to open the door for you. You started to open your mouth but Eddie anticipated what you were going to say.

“Please don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong,” he hugged you and helped you out of the van, “Maybe talking about it will help, you wanna try?” You nod and realize that the two of you hadn’t discussed the events of Monday. 

“What happened to you after Billy,” saying the words out loud hurt, “after he punched you?”

He rubbed his nose as the two of you walked into the building, “Dustin actually found me knocked on my ass after you left. He helped me to the nurse and she bandaged me up. Real anticlimactic if you ask me.”

You stopped and touched his cheek with your one free hand, “I know you don’t want me to apologize but Eddie you didn’t deserve that and it’s all my fault. I should have listened to you.”

He pulled you into a hug with his one free arm, “I am but your noble knight princess, getting his ass kicked in the name of love! Now I can avenge both of us!”

Your brows lowered, “Don’t do that Eddie, I couldn’t even bear it if you got hurt again. Billy’s a monster. You don’t know everything he’s capable of,” you started telling him what had triggered your response in the van. You make it to the point where he lit the cigarette. 

Eddie dropped the poster, a few of the pictures you’d drawn fell off and scattered in the empty hall, “He what?” You wince as you lift the leg of your pants and show him the burn mark on your ankle. Eddie falls to his knees and breaks down, he clings to the fabric of your jeans and cries.

“Eddie please, It’s ok-” 

He yells! “You think this is ok!" His voice echoed through the empty dark halls of the high school, "Why didn’t you mention this to Chief Hopper? He’s got your brain so messed up you can’t even see what he did was wrong! Nothing he did was right and I swear to Christ if I ever see that fucker again!”

“You won’t do anything because then you’ll get yourself in trouble,” Robin yelled from the end of the hall, “She needs you. Let us take care of that asshole!” Is Steve holding a baseball bat?

Eddie was right about your security detail. Robin, Steve, and the entire hellfire club were walking down the hallway. 

Steve offered Eddie a hand up off the floor, “She’s our friend too man. You don’t have to do this alone. That piece of shit comes anywhere near her he’s gonna have to fight Robin and, if there’s anything left of him, rest of us.” You laugh but can’t help feeling the sting of the fact that even though you pushed all these people away they were still here for you. You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve their kindness.

Together with everyone you made your way into the gym for the science fair. Robin didn’t want to leave your side but she eventually accepted the fact that she also had a display to set up. Everyone else stayed as you and Eddie put the drawings back on the poster and set up your table. This was a welcome distraction, school was something you were good at. You knew what you were doing. This made sense. Once everything was complete Mr. Mundy welcomed the visiting parents, students, and faculty into the gym to see your hard work.

Anytime someone came close to your display Eddie went full performance mode, “Ladies and gentleman! Come gaze upon the marvels and wonders of how a simple song could, maybe possibly give you the gardens of your dreams!” Seeing Eddie get excited about something school related like this warmed your soul. This was going to be his year, no way he won’t graduate if you have anything to say about it.

It was a long day but finally Mr. Mundy concluded the event with well wishes for the winter break and the new year, you packed up your stuff and headed back out to the car. You were feeling better, Eddie was laughing with Steve and Dustin as you walked around the front of the van to open the passenger door and put some of the materials inside when your heart ached. A note was stuck to the door.

Hey sugar, that was some stunt you pulled yesterday. Even had a police officer come talk to me? If you come home without a fuss I promise to be gentle. Though I’m not very happy you got blood on the seat of my car. If you keep playing house with the freak, you’ll leave me no choice but to come get you. You wouldn’t want your new friend to get hurt again would you? Remember what I told you, you’ll always be mine.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, the feeling of Billy’s gaze on you once again surrounding you. You finish reading and frantically look around trying to spot him. From off in the distance you hear the all too familiar roar of his engine turn over and in the distance you see the blue of his Camaro take off.

“Hey sweetheart, you up for some fun?” Eddie came looking for you and immediately changed his tone, “What’s wrong? What happened!”

You hold up the note for him to read. Robin and Steve read it from over his shoulder.

Fear creeps its way into your voice, “He- He must have followed us here and waited for us to go inside. This was stuck to the passenger door.”

“Listen to me,” Eddie crushed the note before putting his large hands on your shoulders, “He can’t hurt you anymore. Even if he tries something you’ve got all of us protecting you.” You nodded. Eddie whispered a quiet come here as he pulled you into his arms. Your hands pressed against his chest. You closed your eyes as he just held you. Fuck I’ve missed him so much.  

Somehow Steve’s house was volunteered for the after science fair party. Eddie drove with just you in the passenger seat. He had turned on some quiet music as you drove toward Steve’s place. You were thankful for the moment of peace.

“I like the way you drive,” you stare out the window as you continue down the road.

“Yeah?” He sounded a little surprised, “Henderson says I’m a maniac who needs to have his license revoked.” He laughed.

“I feel safe with you. That’s not exactly a feeling I’m used to.” You played with your fingers as he pulled into Steve’s driveway. 

“Hey, you're my soulmate, remember?” Eddie whispered from the driver’s seat. This was the first time he’d actually said it out loud. It was so nice to hear, “I can tell when something’s bothering you. Especially now that I’ve got my head out of my ass.” He laughed at himself and that in itself helped you feel better, “What's on your mind princess?”

“What if he’s right Eddie? What if I’m too damaged to experience a normal relationship? You said it yourself, I don’t even realize how much of what he did was bad.”

“Then I’ll be here to help you through it. I’ll show you what a real relationship should look like,” he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, “Granted, I don’t have a lot of experience. All my other partners just wanted sex with no strings attached.”

“I think you’re already doing a really good job Eddie,” you reached over and took his hand. 

Dustin smacking the hood of the van startled both of you, “Hey lovebirds let’s go! I told Steve I’m making him play D&D with us!” He looked at you through the open driver's window, “Can I have our DM back please?” 

You tried to speak but you couldn’t get the sound of the smack out of your head. You closed your eyes and your head collapsed into your hands again. Eddie waved Henderson away and said something about needing a minute. He rubbed your back and spoke slowly, “You say the word and we go home. No questions asked.”

You spoke into your knees, “It felt so good to kick him in the nuts and I swore to myself in that moment I was done letting him control me.”

“It’s not going to go away overnight princess. It would make me feel so much better if you agree to go see Ms. Kelly when we start school again.” You nod and whisper a quiet ok.

“Do you want to try to hang out with everyone tonight or would you like to go back home and watch a movie, just the two of us?”

“I want to try to stay. I want to watch you play D&D.”

“You could join us if you wanted to sweetheart, what’d you say? Come slay a monster with me?”

“Lead the way, noble knight!” You grab onto Eddie’s arm as he leads you inside.

[batstorm93672]

"Hey, bet you didn't expect to see me here?"

Grudges

"Yeah, I was a little hesitant at first, then I thought that I might as well show up"

Unspoken

"I know we had our differences, lots of them"

Regrets

"And I know it felt more easier to simply hate you and all that, but in all honesty I don't... not anymore"

Sympathy

"I liked you, no matter how annoying you were. I didn't think I'd be so distraught over this like the others"

Pain

"Dick is sad, Bruce is distracting himself with work as usual, Jason is angry which is his way of grief, Steph has shown up to go to your room to cry, Cass is quiet which is normal but I mean quieter than usual and Duke has been watching over all your animals alongside Alfred"

Sorrow

" I went to your room a few times, honestly I almost expected to be hit with a knife or something upon entry... but then I remember that you are not here"

Hate

"I wish I said more nicer things to you, I was angry that you tried to kill me... but I know it's not entirely your fault, guess I was too stubborn to see that"

Words to the dead

"When you come back... I want to tell you how much I love you. How much I no longer want to be at each other's throats, I want to be happy and laugh with you Damian... so when that day comes, I'll be waiting for you"

.

Damian was lying on the couch, petting Titus as Tim worked on his laptop.

"Drake"

"Yeah"

"How long have you been working now?"

"Uh, about three hours, might've lost count"

"...Do you wish to take a break?"

"What are you offering?"

"A round of video games, I want to beat you and watch you cry"

"Don't act cocky, I beat you at Super Smash Bros Ultimate and I'll do it again"

"Only three rounds out of seven did you win last I checked"

"Math seems wrong there Dami. Anyways you are on!"

Smiling

What he wanted to see when he lamented over the grave

Words to the living

"I'm hanging it over your head when I beat your ass"

"Tt. In your dreams Drake"

[needleandstory]

Insect legs, berry light, the crushing suffocating weight of soil.

Nat jolted upright in bed, nails clawing at their own arms as their breath came quick through gritted teeth. A nightmare. It was only a nightmare. Slowly, they lowered their hands to their lap. They could see skin caught in the crescents of their fingers, but their flesh still crawled. It took a force of will to not keep scratching. Instead, they worked their jaw and focused on their breathing, trying to relax.

They were starting to hate this place. They had always had dreams, but lately, the nightmares were endless. They dreaded going to bed, but no matter how hard they resisted, exhaustion pulled at them and their latest record for 'longest time awake' was a measly six hours. The doctor still didn't have an answer for them, whenever he bothered to say hello. Then there was the matter of their cast, hanging off their useless leg and rooting them to the ground. No windows. No light. No flight. It was a cage made special for them, stalked by a warden they had hoped they'd never see again.

They hated how easy it had been for them to identify his near-silent footfalls. They had become a ghost around him, perpetually dancing just out of view, while he stalked about, a minotaur in their labyrinth.

Balling their fists, they buried their face in their hands. They wanted to go home. Instead, the door clicked open. They straightened up quickly, smoothing out their face and sheets, but the smile they prepared for Fenn vanished when they saw Rowan instead. He looked nearly as surprised to see them as they were to see him. They rallied that smile back. "Aw, is our game of hide and seek over already?"

Something flickered behind his eyes that they couldn't quite recognize, but they could see the tension winding through his body, making him stiff as he shut the door behind him and walked to their bedside. "Too bad, so sad."

He hadn't changed much. They spied a few new scars, pale and shining under the florescent light, but other than that, he had the same heavy boots, stepping lightly in spite of them; the same sort of clothes--dressed like a warning sign--and the same knife-sharp eyes. He opened his mouth to speak. They readied themself for a torrent of hatred.

"I'm sorry."

The words crashed like steel beams between them. When Nat remembered their time with Rowan, they remembered his cutting tongue. They remembered his bitter disappointment, his harsh criticism, his belittlement. Don't be an idiot. Why would you think that's a good idea? Get over it. Rowan kept talking.

"I've had a lot of time to think, lately, about what happened last time I saw you. In retrospect, it's real fuckin' obvious. You were breaking down, and I was too focused on the next score to give a shit. I didn't hold up my end of our deal, and I made that your problem."

Rowan couldn't look at them, gaze fixed on the corner of their bed. For several moments, Nat could only stare. But then, laughter began bubbling up through Nat's throat, the sound all feathers and wings. They laughed, and laughed harder, even as Rowan's face turned bright red. His expression twisted with rage, and they got ahold of themself just enough to say, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I was so sure you hated me. What have we been doing? What do you want me to say?" They rubbed a hand across their face. "I never thought I'd see you again, and I was happy about that."

"I hated you for years."

"What changed?" A realization--and potential answer--clicked into place. "Where's Sofi and Garrot?"

"Sof's on the straight and narrow these days. Garrot's with her."

"And you're here."

"I'm here."

Nat rubbed their arm. Memories returned, unbidden: Rowan cajoling a furious Sofi into keying a car together. Rowan tossing back drinks with Garrot. Rowan with them in the dark, kissing each one of their burning, blistered fingers. An abrupt ache for that comfort seized their chest, yet they remained repulsed by it. The thought of being tied down again, to Rowan no less, made them sick to their stomach.

As if he read their mind, he continued, "This is something I decided to do a long time ago."

"Then what took you so long?"

"This was the last place I expected to see you. What the fuck is going on with you?"

"Hasn't anyone told you? I'm a medical marvel." They didn't entirely succeed in making it into a joke.

He had nothing to say to that. When he spoke again, it came with a sense of finality, "I said what I came here to say."

With that, he turned and left. When the door shut, it took a layer of Nat's skin with it: they felt red, raw, and exposed. Their heart ached, and they resented the feeling. They were alone in this pit, with no one to even complain to. Really, they only had one option.

[TXT] Fenn! [TXT] I wanna talk more about my druid. 🥺

[calzonekestis]

This is really embarrassing, but I feel like the right thing to do is own up to it because I’ve been so vocal in defending her from hate. It’s come to my attention that Grace Van Dien is in fact - a menace.

It hurts my heart to admit. People kept saying it though, so I did my research. The truth that I found just  might just shock you.

Says she loves pasta - doesn’t she know that could be seen as invalidating to people who enjoy other food groups? Why does she have to shove her fondness for noodles down our throats?

She once said that the favorite gift she had ever given was her own record player, which she gave to her sister who wanted one. She prioritized sentimental value over going out and buying one, which would have helped the economy!

She wastes time on her Twitch channel by personally thanking each person who subscribes! This takes away precious time from the stream!

On the topic of the streams, she often plays Valorant because it’s her current fave and it’s fun and makes her happy. Doesn’t she know that as an actress - she exists for the purposes of our entertainment? The audacity of her doing something to entertain herself!

She doesn’t read fanfiction, but will share cute fan art on her IG story. Oh, so she thinks artists are better than writers? Is that it?

If she REALLY admired passion and creativity - she would go and tell them to create their own intellectual property rather than drawing fan art.

As a performer, you want your art to resonate with people, right? Not just entertain, but hopefully impact them? Maybe inspire them to make their own art and explore their own creativity? So… how dare she get an experience that every actor hopes for, but not all of them achieve! And with such a small part, and so early in her career!

Doesn’t she know this makes other actors feel bad? Like maybe they don’t have the talent and or screen presence to invoke such a response?

She writes poetry, but she keeps this as a private thing for herself as a way of self expression. As an actress and content creator, it seems very selfish of her to want to have a singular thing that is solely Hers.

Apparently she hung out with Joe and Mason when they were in Atlanta, but Mason was the only one to take any photos? I guess she doesn’t care about capturing memories with new friends!

At the premiere she seemed like she was hanging out with Eduardo (Argyle) and Gaten. Someone else took the photos, of course. Never mind the fact they didn’t even share scenes together - she was dancing with them and giving them hugs. Cringe! Why is she so obsessed with these guys?

She poured her heart and soul into the character of Chrissy, knowing that she was going to die. One could only assume she did this specifically to hurt us. Why else would she make the character so sympathetic and endearing?

The Duffers said she and Joe did a lot of improv, taking what was on the page and elevating it. So basically she showed up to work, and showed up the writers - she was so good, they regret killing her. Do you know how much embarrassing that must have been for them to admit? I don’t know how she could have put them in such an awkward position.

Why would she do that to them? Why would she do everything in her power to make she made us fall in love with Chrissy? Despite the size of the part, she went to effort of bringing depth to her performance. There was more to her than met the eye, she smiled bright but had so much pain and trauma that she was hiding. She wasn’t a one note stereotypical cheerleader, you felt for her and wanted things to get better for her.

Grace knew they wouldn’t get better though, and dug the knife in with her smile and big bright eyes anyway. She knew that Chrissy would have only one brief moment with Eddie where she would relax and forget her troubles. To dangle that in front of us, and rip it away? What kind of messed up person does that?

She’s going to a convention on the East Coast this weekend. I guess she expects fans on the West Coast to just fuck off?

Stranger Things has perhaps given her the greatest exposure she’s ever had, but now I have to go out of my way to track down and familiarize myself with her other work. And so much of it is spread across different streaming services - Netflix, and Paramount Plus, and Amazon, and Hulu. Doesn’t she realize it would be more convenient if they were all in some centralized location?

The other day she wore a hoodie in a TikTok, that said “you are worthy of love” … that’s a sweeping generalization if I ever saw one. She doesn’t know who she could see walking down the street.

What if she ran into a certain failed businessman and game show host turned failed president? Would that shirt apply to him? Does she think he’s worthy of love? I mean, I don’t even think his father did.

“You are worthy of love.”

Such an irresponsible sentiment to carry out into the world.

I’m telling ya. This girl, she’s a menace. You were all right, and I was wrong. I’m not too proud to admit it. We’ll definitely have to put this one in the “problematic fave” category. 😔

I feel the sarcasm is thicker than tar, but just to be clear this is all facetious.