#completely ruins my murderous vibe

[zombie-hickey]

Don't you hate it when you stab a guy and he pops a boner?

#completely ruins my murderous vibe #stop being turned on I'm killing you #mdni #18+ only #vee's a monster #slasher fucker #monster fucker #bo sinclair #billy lenz #brahms heelshire #thomas hewitt #bubba sawyer #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #billy loomis #stu macher #michael myers #jason voorhees #freddy krueger

[tired-biscuit]

fem!reader // age gap; bakugou is in his early 30s, reader is in her 20s.

bakugou gives me “get off my lawn!” vibes.

i imagine him gardening in front of his new home in a quiet little neighbourhood that he’s moved into after a particular scandal — the idea recommended as a solution to easing his temper in one of his anger management classes that his friends had somehow managed to convince him to go to — when his wrath comes face to face with you for the very first time.

he’s kneeling in front of the little garden that’s situated underneath his living room window as he digs his hands into the soil, no gloves, and with dirt pushing underneath his fingernails so deep that he’ll only be able to scrub it out when he finally heads inside to take a shower later.

so, he’s tending to the small patch of soil. with his brow furrowed and his teeth repeatedly sinking into the inside of his cheek, the temporarily-retired pro hero is visibly trying so hard to not crumple the flowers that he’s spent ages fighting to keep alive in their little pots ever since the day his stupid therapist had instructed him to buy the seeds, put them on the windowsill, take care of them, and watch them grow just like the calmness and the ‘zen’ in him is supposed to, or whatever the fuck.

and sure enough, the little fuckers actually grew. they grew so big actually, that he now has to complete yet another pesky task, consisting of finding them a new spot where they can fully flourish before they can get the chance to overtake his entire window, bed, room, even him, perhaps.

grumbling under his breath, the raging blond feels somewhat proud as he stares at his little creations. i mean, who knew he had it in him? a proper green thumb; attached to the explosive, otherwise oftentimes murderous palm of katsuki fucking bakugou!

and speaking of murderous: the look on katsuki’s face is a near perfect example of the word as he goes to place the first plant into the little hole that he’s just finished digging up. with his crimson eyes dangerously narrowed, he watches intently how the petals bend, as well as the leaves, whilst he picks up the poor flower and starts transfering it from pot to soil.

luckily, neither break or tear under his thick fingers. he’s being gentle and delicate for a change — adjectives people would never describe him with at first glance, nor after getting to know him a little bit better. no, he’s a grump through and through, and the focus in his head is so high now, in fact, that it even causes a wrinkle to etch itself deep into the middle of his forehead, accentuating the previous statement even further.

but that grump in him really manages to shine through the moment a football suddenly appears out of nowhere and knocks over one of the pots he’s brought outside only minutes prior.

tink! — a thin little crack appears on one side of the pot, now. bakugou, holding his breath without even realizing it, watches as it spreads through the glazed ceramic. the flower lays limply on the concrete step beside the garden that it’s just been knocked into. it had been his favourite one of the plants, the petals were so pretty and in a gorgeous shade of orange, but he can’t dwell on it; not when the crack is still spreading.

it’s spreading, spreading, spreading. just like the anger that bubbles within him.

tink, tink, crack! — the pot is chipped. a little piece of it crumbles off and falls onto the step.

oh, no. it’s ruined. it’s all ruined and the perfectionist in him is screaming.

and fuck, red fury swoops upon bakugou’s mind like a hawk at that. it’s such a small thing, a mere accident, but he just can’t help it; life’s been hard as of late. with his jaw clenched and all anger management lessons forgotten, he grabs the football and tightens his hold around it with both hands until he can feel the sparks dancing on his palms. until he can feel the warmth start to radiate from them.

the heat makes the synthetic leather hiss. it tingles, from his hands, all over his body. he hasn’t indulged in his quirk in such a long time. it feels good, even if the emotions that now plague and storm his outraged mind are awfully bitter.

and as for rage…

“are you fucking kidding me?!” his voice booms through the air as he pushes up to his full height in one swift, scary movement. “you stupid, brainless brats; how many fuckin’ times have i told you not to play he—”

it’s not often that katsuki stops in his tracks mid-sentence — especially in the midst of such a venomous one, at that — but the moment he whirls around and lays his eyes on you, deadly silence falls.

i mean, how can he not turn quiet? jesus on a cross, there’s a girl standing in front of him now, instead of a kid or an old lady. an actual girl, and she’s fucking gorgeous.

dressed in comfortable shorts, a cute crop top that shows just a sliver of your stomach, and colourful, almost childish flip-flops, your skin looks like it’d be warm to the touch if he were to stroke it. the sunshine that blazes above you on this hot summer’s day, causes sweat to glimmer in a layer so thin on your forehead. it makes the little hairs that frame your pretty face curl because of the way they’re turning damp with salt. makes the side of your neck have a certain sheen to it as well.

bakugou’s head cocks to the side as he assesses you further. sure, it’s hot out, however the heat doesn’t seem to be the main reason as to why you look so appealingly disheveled. after all, you’re inhaling and exhaling fast, and your shoulders are rising and falling even quicker as you seem to be trying to catch your breath.

did you run all the way over here?

“sorry… hi! lemme just… ah… catch my breath for a quick second… gosh.” he blinks at the sound of your voice as you raise your hand in apology before resting both of them onto your knees and bending over at the middle. your demeanor almost seems sheepish when you look up at him from underneath your lashes, still trying to ease your breathing. “i’m so, so, so sorry for your flowers, mister dynamight, sir…! my little brother kicked the football way too hard as we were playing a game he made up, so i just… i, uh, i ran over here to apologize on his behalf, and to… get the ball back.”

katsuki quirks a brow as he lets his gaze fall to the football he still holds in his hands, and for which you’re so clearly asking to get back, now. he knows the kid who you’re referring to as your brother — an especially irritating little menace that’s been sucking his blood through a goddamn straw, with all the pranks he and the group of brats he calls his friends have been initiating on his property as of late.

and sure enough, when he looks over your shoulder, the little shit is nowhere to be found.

the thought of the kid continuously stepping on his nerves for the last few weeks angers him in a flash, making his grip on the football tighten and start to smoulder; it makes smoke spiral in thin lines underneath his fingertips. though, when he lifts his gaze and lets his eyes land on you again — on that stupidly pretty, sweaty face of yours — bakugou surprisingly feels that white-hot rage somewhat disippating bit by bit.

hand to heart, he’s intrigued by you. you don’t seem to mind being in his presence, despite the fact that you seem to know fully well who exactly he is. and if you know that, then you’re surely familiar with the rumours and gossip that never cease to follow a big name like his. as well as the public announcement, talking about his — forced — temporary retirement from the hero business, because of the consistently violent outbursts he had failed to tame over the years.

for fuck’s sake, the dynamight is your neighbour, and you seem to be outright unbothered by it. it’s peculiar as fuck.

and it’s also the reason why the only thing he grunts out now, is, “you’re new.”

“i’m sorry?” that surprises you. your brief confusion is evident in the way you straighten, as well as how your own head lightly tilts so that you can look at him properly for the first time ever since you’ve stepped foot on the patch of land he should be calling home.

“you’re new,” he repeats simply, jerking his chin towards your direction and pointing the football at you. “i haven’t seen ya ‘round here before.”

“oh—ohh…” there it is; a wonderful smile appears on your otherwise pouty lips as you smack your forehead in realization. “yeah; that totally makes sense! i came back home just a couple of days ago to spend summer break with my family, so that’s probably why you haven’t seen me around yet.”

summer break. so you must be still in college? it’s not odd that you’re still a student, with a tight body like that, clothes so revealing and scarce, and a face that just screams youth, youth, youth. adding it all together, bakugou catches himself feeling not all that thrown off by the fact that you’re in school, pursuing a degree.

at least you have a goal in life. unlike him, and his stupid gardening.

nevertheless, he gives you a curt nod and tries to tame the flutter of a muscle in his cheek as he hands you back the ball he’d considered melting with his quirk just moments before. he’s still so angry because of the pot.

it held his favourite flower, goddammit.

“you’re new here, too,” you chime as you take the ball from his hands. “i know you weren’t here the last time i came to visit… i’d remember a man like you if he were living across the street from me.”

he isn’t entirely sure if you actually don’t see it, or you simply turn a blind eye towards the dirt and the branding that he’s now burned into the ball with his fingers, but both choices seem just dandy to bakugou as he watches you grin up at him, now. so cutesy.

“moved in a couple of months ago,” he explains briefly, clearing his throat and wiping his hands against his black gym shorts. he has to wash them later anyway; what’s a little bit of sweat and dirt? “been sort of… startin’ over, hah.”

you could call it that, all right.

you give him a knowing look, but don’t say anything about the article that had covered the first page of nearly every newsletter in the country not a while back.

dynamight retires at the young age of 33 after yet another savage misdemeanor! read more below!

no, instead you say, “well, that’s nice. i certainly hope that you’ve adjusted and that our little neighbourhood has been treating you well, mister dynamight, sir.”

that last word… did you say it like that; so softly, almost purring, the first time, too?

“i suppose i did,” he answers, feeling a heat that he can’t blame on the late afternoon sun start to crawl up his neck. it’s not intense enough to make him blush, per se, but it is enough to tint the tips of his ears a light pink. damn, it sure has been a while if a mere tone has got him acting like this.

your smile grows bigger as you notice the faint change of shade. it makes your face beam. “i know it’s quaint compared to the city, but i’m sure you’ll learn to like it.”

he watches you turn so that you can head back to your house, inside of which your menace of a little brother is surely hiding, and he can’t help but eye you up from head to toe again, well, heel. the back of you is just as stunning as your front is, he’s dragging his eyes all over; that is until you whip your head to the side so that you can look at him over your shoulder.

“oh, and mister dynamight?”

“what?” he calls out. you’ve already reached the sidewalk.

“i really am sorry about your flower pot. i’ll buy you a new one, if you’ll let me,” you say, waving. “just don’t be a stranger, yeah?”

katsuki doesn’t answer. he wants to say a million things all at once, to agree, to deny, whatever. to tell you to call him katsuki, or at least bakugou; that he hasn’t been called dynamight in a while and hasn’t felt like him either for a long while, too. to ask you what your name is, because he’s just realized he’s never got it. to try shooting his shot, or just talk, talk, talk because he’s lonely, he’s been feeling oh, so very lonely ever since moving here.

but all he does instead, is raise his hand and wave.

#i might write more about this bkg and reader #i think they’re both so sweet!! #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #bakugo x reader #biscuit drabbles

[preciouslittlebhaalbabe3]

Thoughts about Ascended Astarion! (This is a long one, and I'm not trying to change anyones opinion, just highlighting the fact that the player is in complete control of the situation at all times. This game is about choices.) First off, I don't usually prefer to ascend him. But I love all versions of Astarion. His character is so well written and all of his arcs deserve praise and attention no matter what your personal opinion of them are. The devs did an incredible job. If any parts of his arc (ascended or spawn) make you uncomfortable, then romancing him isn't for you. If the dynamic between AA and your character makes you feel scared or upset, don't ascend him. That dynamic is supposed to be 100% consentual. He's a tough nut to crack and his story can be very triggering. I myself broke down a few times hearing him talk about what he went through. There are other companions with lovely character development that you can choose. When people go "ugh he's ruined I didn't want this" My dear, with all due respect. This is the dark fantasy romance option. Emphasis on the fantasy. You didn’t get his approval by being nice. It's not like he's the only option. You chose to romance the vampire. The game warns you of what exactly you're about to do multiple times. You willingly help him murder thousands of people for freedom. A vampire who was a literal slave for longer than he was even alive for just got a MASSIVE amount of power. Were you expecting he was gonna just be a good guy now? He has had NOTHING for so long. His entire life trajectory changed within moments. He’s still figuring himself out. You as the player are still completely in charge. He owes everything to you and he knows that. You can walk away at literally any point. He asks you to kneel and obey to establish trust and a dynamic. To confirm this is what you want. YOU CAN SAY NO. Then, he gets right down on the floor with you. He's either gentle or rough based on your choice. If you don't like the vibe just break up with him at that point like he literally lets you do. Or, even just reload the save. But just remember. "That's what you want, isn't it?". When Astarion ascends, Neil says it best. His mask is off and he's allowed to be at his most terrible with no fear. He doesn't have to perform or be aloof as a distraction from the pain anymore. He was never good aligned. But now, he has the power and ability to give himself and his favourite person the life he thinks they wanted. Otherwise why would you ascend him? His love language becomes acts of service and gifts. He ADORES tav to almost obsession. He's always doting on them and calling them his. The ritual only amplifies that. "but what about what he says if you convince him not to go through with it?"

He’s not lying. He knows tav saved him from himself. It is technically the “good” ending. But that’s not what matters here. The ascension is for characters who are not good aligned. It is for characters that are just as much of a power hungry monster as ascended Astarion is. They want to be a monarch that rules the world over. It’s a role playing thing. Is it wrong? That’s for you to decide for yourself. Not others.

"but what about karlach? He's a massive jackass to her when he ascends" ...Yes. He's not a good guy. Karlach is basically the goodest character in the game. It won't work. And if you do break up with him, he lashes out and says some extremely hurtful things. Because you just broke his heart. It's a perfectly normal response from someone being completely blindsided. He thought you wanted this. You said you wanted this. After everything you both did you get here, he feels betrayed. Not even to mention ascended Astarion does not make you just a regular spawn. You quite literally become his vampire spouse. He thanks you for putting your trust in him. Then eventually you become a true vampire with time. He wants to make sure tav doesn't go insane after being turned. If you wanna learn more about vampire spouses in DnD I highly reccomend doing some google searches. It's fascinating. Is ascending him the right thing to do? No, but it's not "wrong". The game doesn't work that way. Is keeping him a spawn the right thing to do? Maybe, if your character thinks it is. Either route has their sets of pros and cons. It's up to you which ones you think work for your playthrough.

I almost always convince him not to go through with the ritual. But ascended Astarion + durge is a power couple and the vibes are immaculate for evil runs. Just have fun with the game! The devs made all these character arcs for you to explore! Thanks for reading <3

#baldurs gate #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion baldurs gate #ascended astarion #spawn astarion #vampire spawn #dark consort #dark romance #astarion analysis #ascended astarion analysis #let people enjoy things

[ddarker-dreams]

i think Gojo & chrollo are the hardest to score. Gojo is waaay too popular so he has so many option while chrollo is... not mentally well...to say the least lmao

🕵️‍♂️ i've appreciated the input from my fellow terrible men enjoyers. since the poll is almost at its conclusion, i'll go ahead and give my thoughts, ranked from 'ez +1 husband obtained' to 'requires enough effort that i'm disrespecting myself as a woman with how hard i'd have to try.'

chrollo - listen. hear me out on this. is he a criminal? yes. a murderer? yes to that as well. overall terrible person with very little capacity for genuine emotion? absolutely. however! i'm cute. he'd start off by regarding me the same way one does a penguin who keeps tripping over its feet in the zoo. mild endearment and amusement. next, i regale him with my witticisms. they might not all land but the tripping penguin aura will keep him around anyway, if not just to see what nonsense will happen next. then he can hear my major and go :) heh. the rest is history. wedding bells but in minor key to symbolize the impending doom.

scaramouche - the main hurdle to overcome here is the looming threat of disintegration. i'm a very happy-go-lucky person so he'd probably want to strike me with lightning just to ruin my day. the trick here is to catch him when he can't expose his harbinger identity. that'll buy me enough time to win him over, although, whether or not this is a good idea is up for debate. this fella has a lot of insecurities to work through. my extroversion would endanger the local population (and ecosystem).

gojo - i'd probably end up in a similar camp as utahime at first. i'm easily mortified by people who just say whatever comes to mind, i'd find his lack of tact grating. more pressing than that, however, is that since i'm a girl, my chances of surviving in the jjk universe plummet exponentially. i'd get killed off in an unsatisfying way right when my character development started getting interesting. on the 5% chance i survive, we'd have pretty good chemistry because we're both annoying and cannot shut up.

blade - i hate to admit it, but i'm not sure i could pull this one off. my 20 stat in CHA would ricochet off him because there's no way he'd stick around long enough to fall for my charms. if by some miracle i could have a few interactions with him, i'd have to pass the hardest skill check. there's a 99% chance he'd ghost me because he thinks i deserve better than an 800 year old cursed man who is trying his best to die. is he wrong? not really. should i pass the skill check though, it'd be cute. we're complete opposites. i'm always smiling, wearing bright colors (especially pink), have light hair... then there's him. constantly glaring and dressed for a funeral. adorable vibes ngl.

#am i delusional? it's hard to say. depends on the day of the week #answered #Anonymous

[im-not-samantha-im-samanta]

Request by: @jellibean2018

Hello, Jelli! About two months ago you sent in a request, however my tumbl did me dirty, and I ended up with your ask, and the entire fic deleted! (Though, much to my relief, I found screenshots of the fic in a chat with my friend who was reviewing it. Thank god).

So, I have to tag you, and remind you what you wanted.

From what I remember, you wanted a fic with a female sinner Reader who was once a victim of Alastor's, and the two ending up meeting again in hell. You also wanted an unsettling vibe with Alastor reveling in the memory of killing Reader.

I also want to add that I apologize for how long you had to wait for this fic to be done. I haven't been doing well with fics lately, so this was a struggle. And my mental health started going shit too which is why I stopped posting for so long...

Anyways, I really started to struggle with writing fics, so I ended up experimenting with this one - it's kind of written with huge metaphor kind of style? Hope that's okay with you...

Anyways, hope you'll enjoy reading this at least a little, and I once again apologize.

_

🎙️// The sweet history we share... //🎙️

{Alastor x female!Reader}

___________________________________________

Type: Fanfic

Settings: Not specified

Genre: Unsettling? Can't tell if it actually gives that vibe though,

!TRIGGER WARNING!: Mentions of cannibalism, murder, violence, blood, saliva, dead bodies, Alastor revels in the memory of killing Reader, possible yandere vibes? Alastor sees Reader as nothing but a meal, but he puts her on a pedestal - that's probably some kind of fucked up attachment that surely has a name? I'd say the vibe is quite unsettling, but I can't say that for sure, Angel indirectly suggests the use of drugs and hints at sex related activities (but it's just a single line), and that's probably all?

Sidenote: Reader is written as a female just as requested,

Sidenote: I have no idea if I wrote Alastor well... but it feels like I really made him ooc as fuck and ruined the whole request,

Sidenote: Rereading this I think everyone is ooc as fuck even if they have minimum dialogue,

_

That should be all,

Hope you'll enjoy,

___________________________________________

Ah, nostalgia. Ah that sweet nostalgia. And that embrace of her.

She comes in unannounced, an unexpected guest. But oh is she welcome.

And oh so welcome are those treats she brings to the table.

She easily settles in, making herself at home. And into a cup, a bunch of memories she pours.

And that demon, the radio demon as he's called - he drinks from that cup greedily.

And like a man dying of thirst, he can't help but ask for another cup to be poured.

His senses feel high, his body tingling. A feeling of addiction is what fills him.

And he can't get enough of those sweet memories, so, he downs one cup after the other.

But with each greedy little sip, the thirst only grows and grows - he's not had his fill still.

So, the demon goes on and on, tasting one memory after the other.

And his mouth waters a big deal the more he can taste, and he savours each and every one.

Ah, and he can't tell which one of the sips of memories he enjoys the most, which one is the most saliva inducing one.

Is it maybe the giddy old memory of how he followed you through the town?

With you completely unaware? Naively trusting those poorly enlightened streets?

Trusting that a bit of weak light will keep you safe?

Or perhaps it could be the sweet memory of the thrilling chase through the forest?

That one forest where thousands of dead bodies laid buried deep in the ground?

Those dead bodies in whose footsteps you followed suit?

Oh! And what about that memory of how you so desperately tried to navigate around and hide, escape his clutches?

Even if he could hear your sharp breaths as clear as the day?

Oh! Or maybe his favourite one could be the moment of when he tackled you down?

Pinning your body under his, finally cutting the chase so the real fun can begin?

And that beautiful moment of how you hopelessly dug your nails into his skin til blood trailed down his arms?

That one beautiful moment engraved into his head of how you desperately clawed at those lanky hands of his?

His hands that trailed, squeezed and pinched at your body, feeling you up like a winning prize, like a fine piece of venison?

Ah, it was so hard to pick which one was the most treasured one!

Hell, it could even be the simple memory of the melodious sounds of your cries.

That melodious, angelic sound of your pleading, whimpering, sobbing and screaming.

Especially those sounds you made when he bit down onto your flesh.

Oh, and that taste that hit his taste buds back then...

He still remembers it like it was yesterday.

And his tongue still tingles, and saliva still floods his mouth every time he thinks of just how tasty you were back then.

And now his mouth waters as he silently wonders... would you still have such taste even now?

Or did becoming a demon change the sweet, addictive flavour of your fragile flesh and thick blood?

Oh, how his senses urge him - beg him - to just grab you and take at least one single little bite...

I'd be really easy too, now that you're a part of the hotel staff.

Silly little you, you didn't flee when you were faced with the fact that he - the one who took your life - also works for the hell's princess now.

You didn't take the more than gracious chance to turn on your trail, run and never return while you still could.

No, you are too stubborn, and you insist on staying, even despite how frightening seeing him on the daily is for you.

Silly little you! Don't you realize how easily he could snatch you away and repeat history?

All it would take is a single moment of when you're alone and-

Ah, but he can't do that - at least not yet...

Where would be the fun in that?

It sure would be a shame to end your lovely reunion this fast and early on, no?

Not to mention the odd, messed up attachment the deer demon feels towards you...

Now, not to be mistaken! What he feels isn't the usual attachment one would think of!

It definitely isn't the good or healthy kind either...

So, we shall not be mistaken, let's not get our hopes up and think he cares - for he doesn't.

You mean nothing to him - at least as far as it comes to you as a person.

Your value could be most likely compared to something of a sentimental value, a plaything at best if you will.

Still, no matter what you are to him - you are by far his most favourite one at that.

That's what can be said for a fact.

And for reasons beyond us and even Alastor, those memories he shares with you are put on a pedestal - put way above the rest.

There were so many faces that twisted in fear, so many names he kept tabs on, so many tastes he's tried, and so many lives he's taken.

But very vast portion of them is long forgotten, not really standing out all that much.

Nor holding any real value. Barely any of them mattered...

But you, on the other hand - oh, he could never forget about that one lovely night you shared...

And even when more victims - more faces, more names, more tastes - came, they couldn't compare.

No, they never could.

Those memories of you and your taste were always stuck in the back of the radio demon's head no matter what new person was on the menu - what new dish was on his plate...

So, one can only imagine just what he feels now that you're back within his grasp.

Oh, not even his wildest fantasies could've come up with or prepare him for such sweet moment!

This was like a gift from the Devil himself!

Yes, a gift - one that Alastor would make sure to cherish greatly...

Ah yes, he would cherish you so.

He'd take his time unwrapping you like the perfect little gift that you are - he would savour you.

And only when he'd get tired of messing with you, only then he'd get to the real deal.

Oh, and when he'll finally do, it'll be like a starving man plunging onto bread crumbs!

It'll be such a beautiful, satisfactorily moment - Alastor can almost feel himself drooling at the mere thought of the moment.

Oh, how he just can't wait for the very moment!

The moment is so close, and yet so far - and every little glance your way is like a test.

A test of how long he can resist the temptation.

Every little move you make, every little noise that leaves you, every little expression your face twists into.

Oh, he can barely hold himself back!

His body feels so restless, and his thoughts are all over the place.

And no matter how much he reminds himself to be patient, to not cut straight to the chase just yet.

He still can barely keep himself in check.

His thoughts are going to dangerous places, and your familiar, sweet scent teases his nose.

Oh, and you're so within reach too!

It'd really just take a single little moment and-

"Geez, that perv's still at it?".

Oh, that's right.

He's almost forgotten about those curious eyes watching him from afar.

Watching, and trying to see inside his head...

But judging by the response Vaggie's hateful comment receives, it seems she's the only one to see right through him.

The only one to see the real danger behind that wide smile he always wears...

"Ya-uh! His eyes have not left her ever since she's joined the hotel staff!".

Ah, Charlie. Dear, sweet Charlie - now she's something else.

She's completely different from her girlfriend - she's quite naively trusting and optimistic.

Fully believing that there's a piece of good in everyone.

And hence not being concerned for your safety when the deer demon started to show an interest in you.

Ah, that sweet, silly little thing.

Caught up in trying to see only the best in people and their intentions...

It's amusing - and truly adorable.

And oh, does it play into Alastor's favour oh so well...

"Okay, that's like so sick and totally-".

Oh, Vaggie - she tries, she really tried to warn the others.

Make them see Alastor for what he truly is.

But aside from Husk, nobody really listens to Vaggie's concerns.

No, she's not all that listened to when she voices her opinions on the deer demon.

Not even when she expresses her concerns for how the latter constantly follows your every single step no matter the time of the day, no matter where you go...

And to think she has quite enough of a say in things as the hotel's manager, as well as the princess' girlfriend!

Oh, that poor little thing - it must be such an awful feeling.

How humorous!

And oh, how unfortunate...

"Ah! Do you think he's-?".

Niffty is completely on board with Charlie.

Similarly to the princess - she too doesn't see the real harm in Alastor's advances towards you.

Seeing his behaviour as nothing other than subtle romantic gestures.

The little demoness' version of romance sure is rather twisted...

And yet, it's still quite surprising Niffty doesn't see the harm in things.

After all, she herself knows Alastor just as well as Husk does...

"Yeah! Strawberry pimp totally got the hots for that one!".

Angel was caught up in the spiderweb of romanticizing the same thing as well.

Just like Charlie and Niffty, he couldn't see the truth...

"What? No! Are you all crazy?! That's not the case at all! How can you all not see that?!".

Oh, Vaggie - again and again, she really tries and tries.

But the result is always the same - nobody pays her warnings or concerns any thought.

And yet she still keeps on going.

What a miserable little thing she is.

"Oh my- I have like the best idea!".

Not even Charlie notices how Vaggie nearly begs for them all to see things from her point of view.

None of them can see things for what they really are.

Alastor's got them all right where he wants them.

Without even having to try much...

"We should totally get the two to have some alone time!".

Charlie is quick to naively play into the radio demon's games.

Without even knowing she's doing that.

She can't see this all is exactly what the deer demon wants...

And neither can Angel or Niffty.

Aw, those naive little fools...

"Yes! We should- like- create some really romantic atmosphere and leave them to it!".

Niffty follows through in Charlie's steps.

She too plays right into what Alastor wants.

Though whether or not she's aware of it is up for a debate...

"We should lock 'em up in a closet together or somethin', or even give them a little... somethin'... to just... ya know, set just the right mood in.".

And angel is quick to fall for Alastor's games too...

Ah, those silly fools...

Unaware they're making all this much easier than it should've been.

They're sealing your doom - the inevitable end you're ought to meet at his clutches.

They're making this all too easy...

They're shoving the little mouse right into the lion's den.

What unfortunate silly fools.

And what an unfortunate little you.

Your friends are serving you to him on a silver platter.

All of them - or nearly all of them - thinking they're doing you a favour.

Thinking they're simply helping a mere fool in love gain the heart of his love interest.

When in reality, they're actually helping a starving predator get closer to his chosen prey...

It was rather humorous - a good source of entertainment for sure.

So, Alastor would humour the group.

He'd indulge in their schemes of trying to set you up with him.

He'd gladly play along and lead them to think he's interested in you.

Well, interested in you they way they think he is, not the way he actually is...

No, they can't know what he actually wants from you.

They won't know.

He'll make sure of it.

They won't know until the very last moment, until the deed's already done.

Or, he'll lead them to think your disappearance has nothing to do with him.

After all, the sudden disappearance of a poor little sinner like you would be nothing new in hell.

You'd just be added to the endlessly growing numbers of hell inhabitants going missing.

Your disappearance would be just a part of the mere statistics.

Well, he'll see.

All depends on which option would prove to bring more benefit.

As well as which one would prove to be more entertaining.

That's what, to the deer demon, matters the most at the end of the day.

For now, he'll just go with the flow and let the situation progress by itself.

With the occasional shove to the right direction, of course.

But it doesn't seem like he needs to wait for that long for everything to be set in motion...

"Hey, Al, you got a minute?".

Yeah, he really doesn't need to wait for that long...

___________________________________________

#hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor pilot x reader #hazbin hotel pilot x reader #alastor x female reader #alastor imagines #im not samantha im samanta requests #im not samantha im samanta ask #im not samantha im samanta works #frenklinesamuelsrequests #frenklinesamuelsask #frenklinesamuelsworks

[welivetodream]

How much do you think Richard lied about the story?

Because I think he was lying about a LOT of stuff. I do not trust words that come from this man. He is sus.

Since he is talking about the past, it could all be misunderstandings and blurry memories (he was high half of the time) Or it could be just lies.

My favourite headcanon is that Richard was writing a book about his college life. He is a bit delusional and grandiose so when he went to college, he expected to have this main character vibe going on. But his college life was as normal as any of ours and he was disappointed. So, he tried to live vicariously through a book, which he wrote as an "autobiography" (he literally starts the book with "this is a story of my follies"). Richard is telling us, the reader, "his" story. He is acknowledging it as a "real" story. But that too is a lie. Richard made it all up. All the characters were written by him.

That's why Camilla was portrayed as an angel, she is the heroine, his damsel in distress, love interest. Henry was the mythical Jay Gatsby to Richard's Nick Carraway. Henry was someone he could obsess over and idolise. Francis is the gay one, he is another 'kind of' love interest, he is always making passes at Richard, he is snarky and a bit grumpy, that's his entire character. Charles is the mean villain, he is abusing Camilla and committing incest, his existence makes all of them appear better than they are. Bunny was homophobic to a degree that didn't make any sense, he was in a fucking Greek class and was friends with all these people with major gay vibes, what did he expect? If Bunny was sympathetic, we wouldn't have accepted the murder so quickly. And Julian is Julian, he is so out of reach and ethereal; depicted as a type of teacher we would love to have, the story's John Keating.

Now when we come to the ending. The only one who gets to live a "normal" life and has any success (at least graduating college) was Richard. Yeah, Camilla turned him down and all but, he doesn't seem that mad about it (he admitted he loved Henry too, which gives major Nick Carraway vibes) He doesn't really face any consequences of what they all did (he is an accomplice to murder after all)

Camilla is traumatised, she is still in love with Henry and he fucking died in front of her. Her relationship with Charles is ruined and that would be traumatising as well.

Francis is forced to stay in the closet with no choice in the person he dates. And he almost dies of a suicide because of that. He is done with life.

Charles tried rehab but then ran away with a woman in her 30s that was married. His life is a complete mess and he has no contact with his old friends or sister.

Henry commited suicide and Bunny was murdered by his own friends.

Out of all these situations, Richard was the lucky one. He still has ties to Camilla and Francis and they still are kind of friends. He graduated and got a job. He dates one of the most popular girls at college and moves in with her for some time. He is doing something in his life.

In the end, Richard got the best of all of them. Maybe because that's just his real life. He doesn't have a crazy backstory. He doesn't have a huge personality. He doesn't have many connections to these characters. He gets the best ending. He is always the outsider. He is the narrator. He is a liar. He is a storyteller.

It's Richard's world, we are all just living in it.

(I know this theory is not at all true. Donna Tartt was not going for it to be like this. But I find the idea of Richard faking the entire book for his own entertainment and delusion, fascinating. And it's even plausible because of his personality)

Just imagine if TSH happened in the present day. The afterward would be just Richard going to his desk job with four hours of sleep and revealing he was writing an OC self-insert fanfiction about a modern Greek tragedy in AO3.

(okay, this turned out so funny. I get Richard, I want to escape from my boring life with writing too)

#dark academia #chaotic academia #the secret history #donna tartt #tsh #henry winter #richard papen #charles macaulay #camilla macaulay #franics abernathy #bunny concoran #julian morrow #tsh memes

[arent-i-the-fairest]

hi ya!! different anon here! I loved the kidnapping fic you wrote!! Ah I love crack/fluff fics,, fufufu~ May I ask for a continuation but with Lilia, Jamil, Riddle and Floyd? If not thats fine too!! I love your writing and your overall vibes!!! You seem like such a nice warm person!

-🦇

combining this with another ask~! ♪ (・ω・　 )

𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 (𝟐)

⚠️ notes : kidnapping

author’s note : such kind words, bat anon!! ♡ i really appreciate it, thank you!!

and to my anon in the pic, no need to apologize, i don’t mind getting continuation requests at all! i enjoy writing these, so it’s really no problem for me! ♡ also, between leona and jack, i chose to write for leona~! ♪

prologue in part one!

riddle rosehearts

“i’ll have each and every one of their heads!”

whoo, watch out rsa, riddle’s coming in to lay down the law. but like, literally. he’s gonna give them a lecture about how what they did was a teensy bit illegal before using his unique magic to collar them. when is he gonna take it off, they ask..? well, he hasn’t thought that far ahead. whenever he feels like the time is right, he supposes. he won’t take complaints from them or listen to a word they say, he’s teaching them a lesson!

leona kingscholar

“those guys just haaad to come in and ruin the peace, huh?”

threatens that if they don’t hand you over, he’s gonna use his unique magic to turn rsa into a big sand castle lmao

the boys don’t believe that he can do such a thing until he gives them proof that he very well could. he turned an entire bookshelf nearby into sand, and they kinda just stood there like “oh shit”— and just like that, you were freed within a couple of seconds! while he walked you back to your dorm, you two laughed about how quick they were let you go and their scared faces.

jamil viper

“got it. alert the guys down the hall that i’m gone and ask for them to watch over kalim, will you, grim?”

probably the best guy to have rescue you. jamil is on the move right away, plus he knows what to do in a situation like this— he’s well trained and always has to be alert for kidnappings and other dangerous scenarios due to kalim being a target for them and all. he’s gotta say though, he never imagined he’d be having to save you! color him surprised.

jade leech

“fufu, chaos never seems to rest, does it?”

the most civil person in this list🏅

… though while he is civil, the rsa boys still got a bad vibe off of jade. like, they just knew something was up with him. it could’ve been his off-putting smile or that look in his eyes— or perhaps the menacing aura he has in general, i couldn’t tell you. it was pretty easy to get you freed! that being because all the boys’ got an instinct that said they would be safer if they didn’t try and put up a fight with jade, thus letting you go.

floyd leech

“i’m gonna squeeze the life outta those little princes~!”

we all know how floyd is when he’s mad, don’t we? i can only say good luck and give a thumbs up to everyone who unfortunately runs into floyd, because he is not sparing anyone from his wrath— well, except for you, of course.

upon seeing you, his murderous expression is suddenly turned to a joyful, adoring one as he cuddles up to you. you just keep petting his head and thanking him for saving you, quickly peeking over your shoulder at all the people doubled over in pain because of a squeezing from him. so interesting how he can practically turn into a different person on a dime, isn’t it?

lilia vanrouge

“well! that’s certainly one way to make the night interesting, isn’t it?”

ojichan gets you out in a snap and convinces you to go around and pull some completely harmless ✨ lighthearted ✨ fun ✨ pranks on the boys! you, wanting a quick laugh (and to get some revenge), agreed— though these pranks seem a bit more mean spirited than he led you to believe..?

#here are some more boys coming to your rescue~! （＾ω＾） #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst #riddle x reader #leona x reader #jamil x reader #jade x reader #floyd x reader #lilia x reader #gn reader

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Harry is a dangerous sociopath and it is terrifying.

Posted 11 hours ago by u/owlskye

Opinion

[This is long, sorry]

I think it’s time we start seriously considering the fact that Harry is a sociopath, and a dangerous one at that. To be honest, he disturbs me quite a lot, more so than his wife. The aura both of them have are drastically different. When I look at Meghan, I feel that she’s a mean girl. When I look at Harry, there’s something darker and more sinister.

I’m going to go over some symptoms of ASPD (aka, sociopathy) and we can discuss it.

1) A Hunger for Power & Dominance

I don’t know if any of you have got this vibe from Harry, but to me, he seems extremely upset he was not born first. Every time he speaks about how the Royal institution should go away or how bad it is, I get a sense he’s not telling the full truth. It’s missing a “because.” That being: “because I can’t be King.” If this were medieval times, he would’ve murdered his brother for the throne. He is also easily threatened, especially when he see’s himself in competition with children. The way he looks at the Wales kids… terrifying.

2) Devious or Deceptive Tendencies

It is my belief that Harry either played an equal role to Meghan in their “spectacle,” or possibly even bigger than we think. I think he is a highly manipulative individual and will do whatever it takes to get what he wants. I also have an odd suspicion that his complete neglect of preparing Meghan for royal life is due to something devious, but I’m not certain. I find it interesting how he frames William and Catherine to be bad people based on uncomfortable situations he had complete control over. It just seems weird, right? He had an opportunity to let Meghan know what that first meeting would be like, and instead he sabotaged it (she ruined it, too, but he’s a senior royal who could’ve said something.) Also – we know Harry lies. A lot. About everything.

3) Ruthlessness in the Pursuit of Their Goals

Harry has proven this time and time again. He attempted to blackmail his family, so they’d pay for his security. That’s absolutely ruthless, right? It seems like his goal has been to take down William, to prove that Harry is the “better son.” He has been aiming at his brother for quite some time and has said some outlandish things to try and get people to hate William.

4) Hostile or Aggressive Towards Others

As we can see, he’s pretty hostile towards his family. Perhaps if he actually had a horrible life, this wouldn’t matter. It’s the fact that he was content on being a parasite for years, and yet the entire time was seething with hatred and anger for those who gave him a free life. Also, he was an infamous bully in school, and there is footage of him becoming violent with paparazzi. He is not a nice person.

5) Easily Angered or Irritated

I used to think Harry was some type of sloth or something. He just seemed to float around, never wanting to be there. I had no idea how sensitive he actually was since he plays the big, strong military man character. This all changed when Spare came out. This “man” becomes furious at even the slightest little thing. He starts freaking out if paparazzi spot him coming out of a club, even though he’s there with multiple other famous people. He still holds a furious grudge over breakfast sausage. I have no idea how it’s possible to be married to this guy. Imagine an argument with him. Sends shivers down my spine.

6) Irresponsible Decision Making

Hey, let’s speed through the same tunnel my mother fatally crashed in. Let’s leave the Royal Family without a plan. Let’s release a book that will absolutely ruin any chance I had at redemption. Let’s marry this overly excitable egotistical low-level actress. Let’s name our daughter Lilibet, people will love that! I’m going to destroy my relationships with my family! Wait, they don’t want to give me money?! They don’t want to talk to me?! Harry smash! (hulk noises)

7) Superficial Charm & Powers of Persuasion

I hate to admit but Harry does have charisma. It’s natural to develop it from his upbringing. The reason we all used to think Harry was the lovable, mischievous Prince was not because we were told to think that – but because he was. He was very charming and funny. Harry has this certain way of speaking that makes you attentive, which is a bad thing for him because now we’re all paying attention to the spoiled and selfish bs that he’s saying. I’m not sure on his powers of persuasion as my mind is drawing a blank, but I know there’s an example of it.

8) Broken Moral Compass or Limited Conscious

Obviously, he does not care who he hurts as displayed by his smear campaign against his family. His moral compass is obviously corrupted as he thinks a foreign country should be responsible to pay millions for his security. Anyone with a shred of morality would think, “I moved here out of my own free will, therefore I am responsible for all that it entails.” He bragged about the people he killed in Afghanistan because he thought it would make him look like a badass. That’s sick.

9) Few Close Bonds or Relationships

This one applies to Harry now. Seems he has nobody left. A lot of you may think, “he had a lot of friends before he met Meghan, though.” That is true; but what is also true is that he had unstable friendships his entire life, and most long-term ones were falling out before he met her. Another thing to understand is it’s easy to have a lot of “friends” when you’re young, immature, and in the party scene. These people aren’t your “real” friends. If they are, then you must grow with them. A lot of his friends had grown older and matured, looking to settle down. Meanwhile, Harry is stuck in a perpetual teenager mindset. You won’t keep many friends being this way.

10) Manipulative Tendencies

I’ve given several examples of this, but he has some manipulative tendencies that I can see straight through. Harry has learned that all he has to do to garner sympathy and forgiveness is say, “Mum died.” It has worked for a long time. He’s not doing this because he actually cares, it’s to evoke a certain reaction – aka, manipulation. He always has to remind you that his mother, Princess Diana, was a saint sent from Heaven who tragically died when he was young. Not only that, but he also uses her name as an excuse for his actions. “My Mum would be proud of us. She’d love Meghan.” This manipulation tactic works sometimes because she cannot speak for herself, and Diana has a reputation for being “against the RF” even though she seemed to be very good at what she did. He’s putting words in a dead woman’s mouth to justify his actions.

11) Entitlement and Impunity

We all know this one is obvious. The guy thinks he deserves everything in the world for winning the “genetic” lottery (or should I say “family” lottery?). He feels entitled to be King because he seriously thinks he’d do a better job at it. He feels entitled to privileges even William and Catherine didn’t have. He literally wanted the RF to wage a war against the press, and then freaked out when “someone” (cough, William) said something super reasonable: “My girlfriend was treated badly, too. Why should you get special treatment?” According to Harry, the answer was simply: “because I am special.” His impunity reeks when he constantly complains about the duties of his job, because why should he have to do it? He's special. If he treated the military anything like he treated being a Royal, then no wonder it didn’t work out.

12) Social Deviance

He cheats on every girlfriend he has and dressed up as Hitler surrounded by Klansmen for Halloween. He hires prostitutes. I don’t know what more to say.

13) Feeling No Guilt

Harry takes zero accountability for anything he’s ever done. He manipulates, and guilt trips if he’s done something wrong. Or he turns it around on the other person. For instance, the Nazi costume. He has absolutely zero remorse for it and literally, somehow, blamed William and Catherine for it because they “laughed.” To me, it seems like they thought he was telling a dark joke and laughed at the ridiculousness of wearing a costume like that. He turns this around as if it’s THEIR fault for giving him permission of some sorts?! He does not care who he hurts and doubles down on it as well. He’s had numerous opportunities to take accountability and apologize, but instead he further escalated.

14) Failure to Fulfill Responsibilities

I personally think Harry is capable of a lot more than he’s done. I don’t think he failed his military tests because he’s stupid – I think he failed them because he’s lazy, didn’t study, and thought being a Prince would entitle him to be able to bend the rules. He complained about having to “endure” Royal Duties even though it provided him a life of luxury that most people cannot even imagine. He’s an absent parent and lives life solely for himself, and him only.

15) Aggression Towards People/Animals

I’ve heard rumors that Harry has beaten prostitutes up in Vegas. I’m not sure if that’s true but given he meets 100% of the criteria needed to be diagnosed as a sociopath – it would make logical sense for him to follow that pattern. I also do not believe his recollection surrounding his and William’s fight. He acts as if he was begging for mercy and William hit him like a maniac. From what I know about Prince William – yeah, right. (eyeroll) From what I know about Harry – he swung first, and William defended himself. Harry is obviously threatened by his older brother and thought he could fight him to prove something. When he lost, he turns into the victim, acting like big bad William is psychotic. We also have seen Meghan’s dog with two broken front legs. This cannot be officially confirmed that Harry did something, but we do have confirmation that Harry abuses horses. He kicks them so hard with the spurs that he essentially stabs them. I have never seen anything like that before. There is something deeply and psychologically wrong with him.

16) Enjoys Hurting People & Causing Discomfort

I talked about this slightly in #2. While we seemingly won’t ever have official confirmation that Harry enjoys negativity (especially if he caused it – gives him a false sense of power), you can see it by reading his body language and analyzing his words. When Harry is recollecting on stories where his family was supposedly being “mean for no reason” towards them, he has a smirk on his face and a glint in his eye. Go back and watch him telling the story of Meghan’s first meeting of William and Catherine. He’s smirking. This smirk is also known as duper’s delight because he feels this negative picture he’s painting of his family is working. You absolutely cannot convince me he didn’t know this was an inappropriate way to introduce your girlfriend to the future King and Queen. He’s smirking as he describes William and Catherine’s discomfort towards Meghan’s behavior – because he absolutely loved it. He had every opportunity in the world to say something and he didn’t. He let her act like a fool and relished in it.

Watching him at the coronation was actually super triggering for me as I have been abused by a sociopath. The way he stared at William… I’ve seen that before. His eyes were black, and you could feel the hatred emanating off of him. His eyes were wide open as well, as if he was trying to use Superman’s laser against William. This stare cannot be accurately classified as a simple aggressive glare. I know this stare. It says, “If we were alone, I would kill you.” He was hoping William would catch a glance and see this. This stare is purposefully done to make the recipient very uncomfortable or even afraid.

---

I know this man is dangerous. I can feel it. He had to beg to be deployed because he so badly wanted to fight in a war. That is not normal; and then his bragging about the people he killed is even more twisted. He is a highly abusive and predatory individual. He has no shame or guilt for what he’s done. He will never stop trying to destroy his target.

He will not stop bringing up Chelsy Davy in court. The subliminal message that he is sending to her is obvious to people who have experience with this abuse. He states she left him because she couldn’t handle the press. She was with him for 7 years, right? So, obviously she handled the press quite well throughout those 7 years. The truth is: Harry doesn’t love Chelsy Davy. He most likely never did. He is still angry and bitter that she left him. How dare she?! It doesn’t matter that he cheated and deserved it – she left him.

This is a huge blow to the ego for him. He has to be the one to want to break up, he cannot be broken up with because that implies he’s not perfect. This is why Cressida isn’t treated the same; it was mutual. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if he harassed Chelsy for a long time after she left because he’s still doing it to this day. The subliminal message is: “you will never escape me. You will forever be associated with me. I will tell them that you didn’t love me enough – you were too weak – to deal with this life. It will always be your fault, not mine.”

I don’t like Meghan Markle at all, but I am not soulless. I am very worried for her if she is the one who decides to leave. I feel he has a power over her that we cannot understand and he’s the one calling the shots. People blame Meghan for “Spare,” which I think she definitely had a part in it, but his ghost writer has straight up basically admitted that Harry verbally/emotionally abused him during the process.

When people have nothing left to lose, that is when it becomes most dangerous. This is a special situation for him as it’s his first marriage, they have children together, and he destroyed his ties to the royal family for her. If she leaves and takes the kids, what does he have? Nothing. He has no family to run back to, no friends, no allies, no job. Remember that coronation stare.

A lot of you may hate me for claiming to be worried about Meghan, but I don’t care. Like I said, I cannot stand her, and she’s definitely played her part. I’m not entirely sure what Harry is capable of, but she doesn’t deserve violence or endless stalking/harassment. I seriously am sick to my stomach thinking about how much danger she is in, and I wonder if she even knows it. I hope that if she leaves, she plays it intelligently.

#saintmeghanmarkle #sussexes #markled #archewell #harry and meghan #meghan markle #prince harry #megxit #duke and duchess of sussex #duchess of sussex #harry and meghan smollett #harkles

[mermaidsirennikita]

A few people have asked me for the recs that come with my historical romance archetype quiz in full, and since it's been around a week and I've been procrastinating.... Here they are, in order of popularity (check your triggers, as always):

The Good Guy (by far the winning result... which saddens me a little as a reader but I respect your life and your choices):

Unclaimed by Courtney Milan--virgin hero, sex worker heroine, he's a genuinely lovely man

Scandal in Spring by Lisa Kleypas--a lot of people like Matthew Swift, I like Matthew Swift, there's a very good scene where she hides a key in her bodice and is like COME FIND IT

My Fake Rake by Eva Leigh--gender-flipped She's All That retelling with a nerdy hero who fake dates his equally nerdy friend while being super in love with her

Unmasked by the Marquess by Cat Sebastian--this blurs into a rake vibe, but the hero is a disaster bi who falls in love with his new best friend, only to find out that said best friend is not a man but in fact AFAB and NB; there is a delightful scene in which he watches them from across a ballroom while they pull their glove off with their teeth that lives rent-free in my head

Gentleman in the Streets, Freak in the Sheets:

The Duke Gets Even by Joanna Shupe--THEEEEEE PRIME EXAMPLE, "I'm going to cover you in bite marks, darling" Duke of Lockwood I'm your biggest fan

The Duke Who Knew Too Much by Grace Callaway--the one where the duke is like "oh my god girl I didn't murder anyone I'm just into tying people up consensually"

Waking Up with the Duke by Lorraine Heath--the one where the hero's cousin asks the hero to knock up the cousin's wife and the hero is like "I mean because you asked nicely"; SUPREME angst

The Earl I Ruined by Scarlett Peckham--uptight earl is slandered by the heroine who insinuates that he likes submitting in the bedroom; incorrect, he actually wants to tie her tf up

The Truth About Cads and Dukes by Elisa Braden--marriage of convenience with the world's most uptight duke and a heroine who thinks he finds her plain and fat and gross when in fact he mostly just spends his time restraining himself from doing nasty things to her

Villain Recs:

Devil in Winter by Lisa Kleypas--because you gotta, though St. Vincent is a softer touch villain than some ("he wouldn't have actually... done it... riiiight?")

Duke of Sin by Elizabeth Hoyt--a kidnapping loony tunes hero who blackmails everyone, stabs freely, and calls the heroine the wrong name for like 70% of the book; he also stabs someone while completely naked except for his pink robe

The Dragon and the Pearl by Jeannie Lin--Tang Dynasty evil warlord hero kidnaps heroine to use her for information, then realizes he's falling in love

Shadowheart by Laura Kinsale--medieval assassin hero forces the heroine into marriage for his evil plot, makes her his apprentice in evil, then realizes he SUUUUPER likes it when she doms him

The Prince of Broadway by Joanna Shupe--hero owns a casino and becomes the rebellious heroine's mentor, but is secretly plotting to destroy her father

Daring and the Duke by Sarah MacLean--hero was the villain of two previous books and maybe tried to kill the heroine when they were kids, either way she's super mad about it but oops he's OBSESSED with her

Tortured Hero Recs:

My Darling Duke by Stacy Reid--hero has had to use a wheelchair due to mobility issues after an accident, becomes very reclusive and angsty, until he finds out the heroine has been pretending to be engaged to him...

Dreaming of You by Lisa Kleypas--Derek Craven was born in a drainpipe, named himself, and essentially was a sex worker until he made his way up in the world, now feels completely not good enough for the intrepid novelist who's stolen his heart

A Lady for a Duke by Alexis Hall--hero has survivor's guilt and chronic pain + a laudanum addiction after surviving the Battle of Waterloo when his best friend died... twist is that his best friend faked her death so that she could transition and live as who she really is, and now they met up again for the first time in years without him realizing it's her

Pippa and the Prince of Secrets by Grace Callaway--scarred hero reunites with his childhood sweetheart, who's now widowed and way above him in social station... but she's also tortured, and they come to find solace in each other (also: her old husband told her that pursuing her desires was wicked; hero DISAGREES)

Duke of Midnight by Elizabeth Hoyt--literally Georgian Batman, he is the night, also he has a home gym

The Duke I Tempted by Scarlett Peckham--super tortured duke who hides his masochistic tendencies from the world enters into a marriage of convenience with a woman he believes will reject him if she realizes what he wants

A Rogue by Any Other Name by Sarah MacLean--local man who lost his inheritance and land in a game of dice shows up again after years and forces his childhood friend to marry him so that he can reclaim WHAT IS HIS!!! (both the estate and her)

Rake Recs:

Nine Rules to Break When Romancing a Rake by Sarah MacLean--prototypical rake book, Ralston is all "my God woman, binding your breasts is a crime and I am here to save them"

The Duke and the Lady in Red by Lorraine Heath--this guy's mom literally shows up at his house and is like "please tell me you've cleaned this place since the last orgy"; he then gets taken in by a con woman and learns how to love

The Lady Gets Lucky by Joanna Shupe--hero's not taken seriously by anyone because he's such a playboy; he makes a deal to teach the shy heroine sex stuff in exchange for recipes so he can start a SUPPER CLUB and prove himself as a Srs Person

A Rake's Guide to Seduction by Caroline Linden--hero is a ne'er do well rake who realizes he's fallen for his best friend's little sister right when she's proposed to by another man; years later they meet up when she's a depressed widow, and he brings her to life if you know what I mean

Indigo by Beverly Jenkins--hero is a VERRRRRYYYYY smooth rake who also helps free enslaved people in the Underground Railroad, gets the shit beaten out of of him and ends up being cared for by the quiet and practical heroine; and he's like "HOLY SHIT SHE'S THE ONE"

Scot Recs:

When A Scot Ties the Knot by Tessa Dare--heroine makes a Big Mistake and ends up having to marry the gruff hero, but it's only a handfasting so as long they don't consummate the marriage it won't be legit--SIMPLE ENOUGH

When a Girl Loves an Earl by Elisa Braden--heroine becomes obsessed with local giant man, doesn't even realize he's Scottish until she's trapped him in marriage and he drops the English accent and it is a RIIIIIDE for her from there

The Taming of a Highlander by Elisa Braden--heroine ends up having to marry physically and emotionally scarred hero in order to avoid testifying against him, he's all "YE WON'T BE ABLE TO TAKE ME LASS" and she's like "oh bet"

The Highland Guard series by Monica McCarty--medieval Scottish books "what if Robert the Bruce made a Suicide Squad and they were all hot"

The Madness of Lord Ian MacKenzie by Jennifer Ashley--widow heroine ends up in a FWB situation with the hero, who is on the spectrum and considered "mad" by many; then shit gets complicated

When a Girl Loves an Earl by Stacy Reid--heroine gets pregnant by another man and runs to Scotland to marry this guy she's been writing platonic letters to; he agrees to claim her baby; hero is mute and they communicate through written notes at first, but the heroine learns sign language to make it easier for him, super emotional

#romance novel blogging #book recs

[kitmoas]

Build a Cage with Your Bones

Summary: Sometimes losing control is the only way to get what you truly want

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: about 2.3k

Warnings: Dark Fic (allusions to murder and being chased by military/police, slight stalking vibes), strapon use (Wanda receiving), Power-Bottom Wanda, Mommy kink, Lactation kink, slight magic use, lil bit of Somno, if you squinnnnt there's Corruption kink

*As Usual if I miss anything important let me know!*

A/N: HIiii welcome to the first fic of my Occult Celebration! This is one of the shorter, kinda tame fics for the month sooo hopefully you guys like it!! AND for @maximotts Wanda lives :|

***Minors DNI*** ***18+ Only***

Main Master List // Kitmoas | Occult

The way she stretched around your strap was mesmerizing but you were terrified that you weren’t doing it right. This wasn’t the way you ever thought you would lose your virginity, but how could you say no to such an intoxicating person. Cold metal brushing against your cheek derails your train of thought, making you blink mindlessly as you try to focus on the brunette laid out under you. She shoves two fingers into your mouth, the faint taste of metallic spreads across your tastebuds. “You’re thinking entirely too much, pretty girl.” Letting a line of drool fall onto your almost completely shredded shirt as she wipes her hand on your cheek. She looks entirely too composed with her legs spread as you work between them. 

Your eyes trail up her body, getting stuck momentarily on the way her breasts bounce with each awkward thrust. Gulping, your tongue slips out to swipe along your bottom lip as you try to focus. Finally meeting her gaze a whine tumbles out of your mouth, pathetic and shrill, as you try to awkwardly nuzzle into the hand still caressing your face. “Mommy..” The word is involuntary, and it’s already hanging in the air by the time your eyes widen in terror. You just barely met this lady a few days ago and she’s letting you have sex with her, and you probably just ruined it by letting your emotions run free. 

Olive darkened to a deep jade almost instantly, the guttural moan that tumbles from her mouth at the whimpered title made you clench around nothing. Her leg wraps around your hip, toppling you forward until you are hovering over her. “Be a good girl for Mommy and help her feel good” Her hand twists around, fingers gripping your jaw to keep you focused on her face. Even as sirens and sounds of the city behind you go off, even as you flinch with each sound, Wanda demands your attention. 

What you didn’t know was she had been watching you, stumbling through life for weeks now. Miserable and pitiful were the only words she could truly describe you as, yearning for a sense of control and achievement. Your job gave you nothing and you had no family in your life, so what better way to give it to you than getting something in return. Watching your focus struggle, the beginnings of her warm fog settling over your mind is intoxicating to the brunette. She wants to see it more, no she needs to break you more. 

It was woefully easy to get close to you, which surprised the older woman as most were wary as of late. The news spreading entirely too quickly now-a-days truly would be her downfall, but she couldn’t move on from you until she got what she wanted. While the need to ruin you, and your body, for anyone that would ever dare come after her was motivation enough for the witch she knew that wasn’t what you needed at the time. Her need for control, desire to reshape a person had to wait if she wanted complete docility from you. That’s how you ended up in one of the many abandoned homes, war all around you, but none of that mattered to either of you as you rutted into the woman laid out underneath you. 

“Focus for Mommy, detka. Nothing else matters right now.” She speaks in shaky whispers, broken up with grunts and gasps, as she guides you through each movement. Her hand is pulling at your wrist, urging you to lean heavily on one elbow. Directing your now free hand down her body, she squeezes her breast with your hand, hips jumping as your rough palm rubs just right against her pebbled nipple. 

Your fuzzy brain works overtime to learn quickly, taking each movement and reaction from her as notes. Running a shaky thumb over her nipple, you try to ignore all the cuts and bruises along her torso. The urge to kiss them is strong and maybe that’s just because you can’t imagine someone wanting to hurt someone like her, but now isn’t the time. This wasn’t love nor was it the affectionate experience you were expecting, and you couldn’t treat it like it was. 

The older woman releases her death grip on your jaw, cooing as she rubs along the now bright red tender skin. She lets her nails scratch at your pulse point, chuckling as your hips stutter and rubs against the soft spot inside her. “You’re doing so g-good. Don’t stop baby, you’re gonna make Mommy cum for you.” Her fist closes around your throat, almost too tightly, as stars explode in your cloudy vision. 

Letting go of her breast, you have to lean on both hands to stay hovering above the brunette. When she wraps her other leg around your hips, pulling your lower body flush against her so you can just barely rut into her, you can’t help the garbled blubbering. “Leas mommy, wanna make y’cum.” The heavy fog in your mind settles quick, dense and unwavering as each clumsy push of your hips draws a deep moan from the green eyed beauty. 

It doesn’t take much more for the older woman to fall over the edge, your sloppy and frenzied thrusts breaking the gate open. You can feel the wetness leaking from her, the sound of the strap as it thrusts lazily fills the air. Panting and whimpers dance together as the two of you try to collect yourselves. The hand around your throat is still tight, the rings digging painfully into the sensitive skin and veins. 

It’s a loud siren, fairly close, that prompts her to move. Pushing at you, she’s forcing you to move and you can see how she flinches when the strap slips out. You want to console her, the fuzzy feeling in your brain making it impossible for you to keep up with her panicked rushed actions. All you know is that when you fell out of her, you seemingly hurt her and you didn’t like how that settled in your gut. 

Wanda ignores your sniffles, hushing the pitiful mewling as you try to soothe any pain you may have caused. She’s pulling you up, causing you to stumble behind her as she drags you up a set of stairs and into a small closet. “You want your reward, pet?” Your mindless nod is enough that she shoves you down, straddling your hips as she follows you. She’s reaching between her legs, dragging the tip of the strap through her folds before slowly sliding down it. Her bottom lip is between her teeth, her forest eyes fluttering as she tries to watch your reaction to her. 

Your hands are tight against your sides, shaking from how aggressive your fists are formed, the lack of confidence apparent. Blushing furiously under the amused gaze of Wanda, you just try to watch her as she bounces slowly in your lap. Trying to commit your reward to your memory, you wiggle slightly under her as your want to touch her grows more prominent the longer she teasingly rides you. Easily able to overlook your own desire and needs, no matter how you leak onto the flimsy blanket laid out beneath the two of you. 

Her hands tangle in your hair, gripping tightly and her rings rub against your scalp. She’s panting as she pushes herself closer to the edge, grinding down swiftly to try and speed everything up so the two of you wouldn’t get caught. “It’s s-so cute that you think Mommy riding your pretty cock is your reward.” Her crude words make you flush even more, but it’s one of her hands directing your chin down so you’re closer to her breast that makes you go bright red. Her body slows its movements, grinding purposefully, as she guides your face closer. “Go ahead angel, I know you want to and you’ve been such a good girl for me. Letting me use you and making me cum so hard. Open up.” Her voice is tauntingly sweet and you know she’s talking down to you, but it just makes you whine.

Your mouth opens and closes a few times before she bumps you, forcing your lips around her nipple. You don’t need to be told twice, not willing to let this opportunity pass you, letting your tongue run over the hardened bud. Latching on mindlessly as your head moves with the way Wanda’s body bounces, your mind seems to float away from you. What you weren’t expecting was a liquid running down your throat, a sweet treat that you can tell you’re already addicted to. 

Looking up through your lashes in confusion, you can’t see the older woman’s red eyes with her head thrown back. She tries to not use her magic often, only when the authorities start getting too close to her for her personal liking but the brunette had a feeling that you would benefit from a drink. She never truly wanted these powers, only her brother found enjoyment in them, but she knew that her’s were different. The chaos that lives under her skin was dangerous, and while she wouldn’t unleash it in the deadly crimson mist Wanda wasn’t afraid to let that restless energy find other ways to manifest. Each moment of carnage brings only a flash of peace for the brunette, the tranquility rapidly becoming addictive and the primal urge evermore. 

Ultimately the witch was too powerful for this city, but everything she ever needed was here. Her brother was here, you were here, and if that meant hiding her powers then so be it. If that meant only using her powers in dire situations, then that’s what Wanda would do. Setting up rules and boundaries allowed her to have her fun as circumstances warranted, but only as long as she actually followed them. 

Breaking that rule to give you something to latch onto, something that would sink you further into devotion to her was a risk she was willing to take. The feeling of you drinking from her was overwhelming and she could feel traces of her magic dribbling into you. A spell that would keep your brain muddled and fuzzy but only play on your deepest desires. It was entirely too heady and she knew she wouldn’t last long as you feverishly switched to the neglected nipple, latching on naturally as she let her rings tangle in your hair. 

The moans tumbling from the brunette’s lips made you whimper, a pathetic barely there sound muffled against the swell of her breast. The fog in your brain and the heaviness of your eyelids begin to catch up with you, struggling to stay attached to Wanda as she chases her high. You don’t even register your body heaving with the brunette’s harsh movements.

Eyes fluttering closed, you aren’t sure when you dip into the dark depths of sleep but you know that even in your dreams you could hear the high pitched whimper that the other woman tries to muffle as she bites on her arm. Using your body even as your slack jaw and limp neck flops backwards, the fingers weaved into your locks the only thing keeping your head from slamming into the chipped plywood behind you. Tremors rippling through her entire body as she struggles to breath, sitting on your lap as her full weight leans against you. She can feel your soaked legs beneath her, an uncharastic blush rising up her cheeks as she realizes just how much she came. 

Trembling as she leans heavily against you, the new witch tries to calm her racing heart down. Finally pulling away from you she sighs heavily, shaking her head angrily at herself. You were never meant to be important to her, she couldn’t put what she and Pietro had at risk but she knew that she couldn’t truly harm you. You weren’t necessarily different from all the other victims, but you were better. Something about you was drawing her in and she knew that she couldn’t just leave you. The way you made her feel, even through your subtle feelings and thoughts, was something that she could never forget. 

The sounds of banging and yelling could be heard downstairs, loud and surprisingly it doesn’t wake you up. Wanda stands slowly, wincing as the strap slips out of her. She almost leaves without you, almost creates a portal directly away from you and leaves you there filled with magic that will corrupt you from the inside out. She could find another girl, another innocent little thing that would look at her like she was the entire world. There were always others, Wanda could always find a pretty hole to sedate her needs; for play and blood. 

The brunette can’t even take a full step before she’s turning back to you, wrapping you up in her magic as she lets clothing appear on the both of you. A soft smile as she sees you all wrapped up in her maroon sweatshirt, the hood falling over your eyes slightly. A heavy exhale leaves her lips as she straightens her back, squaring her shoulders as she makes up her mind. She prays that her brother will understand, but she knows it’ll just be a bit of a fight. In a whisper of scarlet mist, the two of you disappear just as the police break down the door to the room–just a soaked sheet left on the ground.

#kitmoas writes #kitmoas | occult #marvel fanfiction #marvel wlw #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #dark!wanda maximoff x reader #dark wanda maximoff x reader #dark wanda maximoff #dark wanda x reader #dark wanda #wanda x you #wanda x reader #lesbian #lgbtq fanfiction #lgbt #lgbtq #sapphic #dark fanfiction #kinktober #kinktober 2022

[kiwisbell]

The Hitman's Guide to Getting the Girl: Chapter 7 [dave york x f!reader]

It's just another job, until Dave York decides to kidnap an enemy’s wiseass daughter. It’s just another job, until he falls in love.

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5 | chapter 6 | chapter 7 | chapter 8

series masterlist

status: complete

chapter 7 summary: Flapping his wings toward the sun with you.

pairing: dave york x f!reader

rating: 18+ (mdni)

tags and warnings for entire fic: kidnapping, murder, violence, the world being horrible to women, reader having a very terrible sense of self-preservation, unprotected piv, oral sex (m and f receiving), dave york finding his second calling as a pussy-eating god, pining, possessive sex, jealousy, daddy issues, (stockholm syndrome?), dirty talk, actually filthy talk, hitmen and politicians, revenge, scary man with a soft spot for his woman, philosophical foreplay, tramp stamp worship (you'll see), a little sprinkle of breeding kink if you look hard enough, obsessive behaviour, anal fingering, anal sex, implied age gap, light dom/sub vibes, light bondage

tags and warnings for this chapter: remarkably expeditiously possessive behaviour, face-fucking, very rough sex, slight degradation (term slut is used), very light choking, protective dave, dirty nasty filthy talk, very little soft dave, unprotected piv (you know the drill besties), creampie, biting, sex in a bathroom, daddy issues, hair-pulling in a violent context, dom/sub dynamic, sloppy blowjob, mirror sex

word count: ~ 5.6k

whew... i am very sorry for the late-itude of this chapter, but hopefully the filthiness of it makes up for my transgression! lots of plot getting tied up in this one and lots of jealous, possessive dave. just how we like it.

chapter 7: the icarus to your certainty

You choose the red dress. It’s wine-rich, deep and soft and tempting. The back plunges so low that a trace of one black wing can be seen when you shift a certain way. There is a long slit up the left leg and a pair of black heels on your feet. Your toenails are red as fresh blood, your lips very much the same colour. You’re sin and elegance. You’re all the spotlights see.

Dave wears a black suit and a black tie and swallows the acid that is knowing he cannot put his hand on your back or kiss you while cameras flash. Not yet. 

He's played security guard for starlets before. He's been to sparkly galas and choked down finger foods that couldn't feed a chipmunk. He’s guarded his fair share of famous assholes. He’s never had so much stake in a job before. 

Tonight, the Field Museum is hosting a charity event to raise money for the local children’s hospital. Since you're putting a good deal of your pocket money into the initiative, and you're a long-time donor for the non-profit running the event, you have a place in the speaker lineup. So does Senator Brock, who intends to announce his reelection campaign. Dave will remain in the shadows, watching his girl make the rounds, smiling and laughing and being so much more charming than he ever could, while he ensures the night goes smoothly. Not one thing will ruin this for you. 

By nine o’clock, champagne is lifting spirits and two speakers have already finished their bits. You’re slated next-to-last, just before Brock, and Dave scoffs a little at the fact that you have to precede a fucking politician. You should be closing out the night. You have more important things to say than anyone here. 

He does his job like a good little guard dog for the first couple hours. But he itches. Turning the watch around his wrist over and over, or fiddling with the cuff links you bought him for his birthday, Dave is forced to watch while people get too damn close. 

Being your security detail gives you plenty of opportunities to check in with him incrementally throughout the night, and he gets to sit at your table. As he suspected, there's no sign of Vincent Gallo or any of his family; Kovac and Ari, who stand at the northwest and southeast corners of the room, have confirmed that the Gallos rarely attend public events. It’s somewhat refreshing to know that not every cop in the city is in the mafia’s pocket. 

Just because you're safe from any crime lords does not mean you're immune to invasions of your personal space. Men flock to you, the notoriously single socialite with a heart of gold and a sinful red dress, licking your feet for attention. Part of Dave laughs at it: the somewhat pitiful attempts of hopeless cases to win your affections in return for a drink. Most of him bristles: they don't know you. They don't deserve to breathe in your space. They don't want you for all that you are. 

Dave licks his teeth as some piece of shit offers you a drink and kisses your knuckles. When the man isn't looking, you find Dave across the room and share a discrete look. You bite down on your smile when he makes a brief jacking-off motion. Watching your chest shake with suppressed laughter makes him swell with pride. He's not going to last the night. 

Dave tenses when your father arrives. He's dressed in an expensive suit and he brought a date: some woman you've never met before, judging by the way you introduce yourself and shake her hand. You maintain a polite smile while your father speaks to you, but Dave can see your eyes glazing over. He wonders what you're thinking about. His mouth on your body mere hours ago, plundering your taste until you were marked with his cologne? His cock inside you, keeping you pleased and warm? The way he crawled back down your body and kissed your wet, puffy clit when he was done?

Dave is a watcher by trade. He's cramped himself into a car for nights on end to watch targets, spied on illicit activities, caught people in the act of the kill. It's all so tedious. No joy to be found in watching the person you’re going to kill. But… he likes this. 

He likes seeing you dance your way around the room in your beautiful dress. He likes lingering in the darkness, watching you schmooze better than anyone he's ever known. He likes knowing the body underneath the dress, the way you feel when you're wrapped around him, the deep and unyielding pressure of being loved by you. 

When Senator Brock arrives, Dave’s instincts prickle at the back of his neck. Brock strides up to you and kisses your cheek, winding his arm around your waist. You smile tightly, letting your mouth do the work. But Dave sees it in your eyes. And he’s getting sick of seeing other men touch you like you're a gold little trophy. 

You listen idly to your father’s conversation with Victor, who keeps his hand on your lower back. Dave’s favourite spot. This will not be your life. Enduring lingering touches, smiling through the discomfort. 

“I see you have extra security tonight,” says your father. You’re certain he noticed Dave the instant he walked into the building. 

“Is there something we should be worried about?” asks Victor, perfectly politely concerned for your well-being. 

You wave a dismissive hand. “Oh, no. They just take my safety very seriously.”

“Have you prepared your speech?” asks your father’s date, June. She's a lovely woman who does not deserve to suffer a night with him. 

“Of course she has,” interjects your father. You don’t like the way he holds June around her waist. “You always know what to say, honey. Don't you?”

Code for, Do not fuck this night up for me. You're familiar by now. “I’d like to think so,” you chirp. “It’s a very important cause.”

Victor’s playing his part well, to his credit. He smiles down at you and squeezes your hip, kissing your temple. “We’re thrilled to hear it.”

“Excuse me, ma'am.” 

Dave’s voice sends a famished shiver down your spine. You're so hungry to be near him that you almost slip, stopping yourself from inching closer to him. He doesn't look happy. 

He looks barely restrained. 

For a moment, you’re afraid of the animal you see waiting behind those eyes. 

“I need a word in private. It's a matter of security.”

You hope you don't sound breathless as you agree, offering to lead him to seclusion. There's an unoccupied office on the second floor, and Dave doesn't bother closing the door as he shoves you against the wall and puts his mouth on yours. 

It's nothing close to gentle. There's hunger in his posture, a stoop to his shoulders as he bends over your body to get as close as possible, the gruff noises he makes as he dips his tongue into your mouth and tastes the sweetness of the champagne on your lips. You're going to leave lipstick stains all over his face, but Christ, he doesn't care. 

He’s starved. Dying for a taste, unrelenting in his journey to acquire it. He presses his tongue to yours, sliding your mouths together, nibbling your lip whenever you try to pull away. It’s punishing, aggressive, teeth and tongues and the tantalising smell of cologne. You rub your thighs together, relieving the growing ache in your panties, until Dave notices and presses his leg between yours. “Do not,” he growls, fisting your hair at the back of your head, “get greedy.”

“Dave,” you gasp, winding your arms around his neck and letting your body curve to the shape of him, “someone will see.”

“Good.” Dave’s hard cock prods your thigh as he feverishly bunches the fabric of your dress at your hips. “You see, there's a man out there, and he's putting his hands all over my wife,” he says darkly, letting the anger simmer. It feels good to burn like this, your body finally back where it belongs: wrapped up in his arms, flourishing under his guiding hand. “I thought I could handle it. But I can't.”

You shake your head, tugging at his hair and guiding his face back down to you. “I don’t want his hands on me.”

Dave grunts, huffing like a wild animal in your ear. You feel his teeth graze your jaw before he speaks. 

“Turn around.”

Excitement builds in your core as you place your hands on the wall, your tits pressed up against the cool tile. “Dave, please, honey,” you say weakly, turning your head to see him in your peripheral. All you feel is cold metal as the zipper at the back of your dress begins to slide down. 

“Thinks he can touch you,” murmurs Dave, slipping the sleeves down your shoulders and putting his lips to the space between your collarbones. “Thinks he can put his filthy fucking hands on my wife and get away with it.”

“He doesn’t want me,” you whisper, trying futilely to console him. Nothing beyond your body can console him. “He’s playing a part. Acting.”

This is your mistake. 

A hand grasps your throat, wrenching your head backward. His voice is dangerous in your ear, his mouth ghosting hot breath over your neck. “Did I tell you to speak, pretty girl?” You can only faintly gurgle, your airway constricted by his hand. “Did I tell you to defend him?”

You gasp for air, your eyes fluttering as Dave’s other hand slips under the slit in your dress and cups your warm pussy. “Did I”—his fingers tug the crotch of your panties aside and dip teasingly into your folds, making you writhe—“tell you”—he parts your lips with two fingers and presses them hard against your clit—“to speak?”

Dizzy with pain and pleasure, you shake your head as best you can. “No, I didn’t.” Dave nips the juncture of your throat and shoulder. “You’re going to be good for me. If I tell you to speak, you speak. You won’t be greedy; you’ll take what I give you, and you’ll want it. You’ll beg for it, if I let you. You’re my wife. Do you understand me?”

You nod vigorously, blinking tears from your eyes as his fingers lazily circle your clit. You try to grind your hips into his hand, but Dave tuts. “Already getting greedy, sweet girl. If you want me so badly, you can have me on your knees.”

He uses his leverage to turn you around, peering down at you through black, fathomless eyes. You’re in the arms of a killer—and your heart kicks up, so eager to satiate the ruthless monster. You sink to your knees on the bathroom floor, in your expensive dress, with the door still wide open. 

Dave reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out your engagement ring. “Give me your hand.” You do, watching him slide the ring back onto your finger. He briefly brushes his thumb over the diamond, one last glimpse of the lover, before he puts your hand to the bulge in his pants. “Take it out.”

You shiver with the thrill of being ordered around, unbuttoning his pants and shucking them down his thighs. His hard cock springs up and you nearly go cross-eyed with how close he is. The tip is red and angry and all you want is to give him relief, take him into your mouth, make him happy. Looking up at him through your lashes, you await further instructions. Like a good girl. 

“Open your mouth.”

Your tongue lolls out, and Dave grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Do you want me?” he asks. You nod your head. “Use your words, pretty girl.”

“I want you so badly,” you plead, shuffling closer despite his warning. “Please use my mouth. Please.”

He grips the base of his dick and guides the weight of it onto your tongue. You begin to drool, ready to lubricate his intrusion past your lips. Dave's nostrils flare, and he slides the underside of his length into your open mouth. You don't move an inch, though your tastebuds prickle, your nipples stiff and your pussy slick. 

He teases himself more than you, rubbing his cock on your tongue, relishing your obedience. “Mmm. So pretty like this. Suck my cock, baby, and maybe I’ll be nice to you.”

You mewl. Nice isn't what either of you need right now. You need it rough and dirty and raw. You need him jealous so you can show him why he doesn't need to be. You back away and grab the base of him, letting a long string of saliva pool on his slit. He grunts faintly above you as your hand begins to stroke him, just slowly enough to make him feel good but not enough to make him come. That's your mouth’s job. 

You lick up the spit that you dribbled on the tip, flicking your tongue over his slit before you flatten your tongue on the underside of his shaft. Dave’s hand flies to the crown of your head, fingers curling slightly in your hair. You hum, licking your way back to the head of his cock and suckling the tip between your lips. 

“Ah, fuck.” Dave’s head falls back for a moment, his eyes squeezing shut until he remembers that it's you he wants to look at. His beautiful wife on her knees, taking his cock into her mouth like a slut. “Fuck, that's it. This is the only cock you're ever gonna fuckin’ get. Better get used to it.”

Your throaty groan around his length as you suck more of him into your mouth tells Dave that you are very much used to it. You open your throat wide, sucking in your teeth and taking him deeper, spluttering around his dick and blinking black tears out of your eyes. He hisses, the pleasure igniting some familiar burn inside his body. His fingers dig into your scalp, keeping you fixed to him, your pretty face fucking ruined. 

The squelching noises of sucking his cock mingle with his groans of exertion as he begins to fuck your mouth. You keep swallowing around him, holding eye contact, being so good for him. You barely have space to breathe and you're still swallowing him like he's water in the desert. Dave, meanwhile, is beginning to see stars. 

It's a faint chorus of growling uh, uh, uhs above you as you take him sloppily, saliva and precum pooling in your mouth and warming his thrusts even more. He's getting close, rambling about how good you are, how fucking pretty you look on your knees, look at you, ruining your dress. You pull your head back far enough to release him from your mouth and grasp his glistening length, jerking him while your tongue darts out to lick his tightening balls. 

Dave’s groans pitch up in his throat. “Jesus Christ. Jesus—baby, you’re gonna kill me. Fuck, stop before I come.”

You whine, giving his length one last lick before you pull away and look expectantly at him. “Stand up,” he rasps. 

You rise to your feet, a little wobbly in your state of arousal, and Dave shuts the door. His thumb traces your lower lip and keeps it pried open for him as he leans down and kisses you hard. 

You let slip a needy whimper, but he's made no rules about making noise—only speaking. You reach between your bodies to continue jerking him off, swiping your thumb into the precum that pools at the tip. He growls, pulling away and bringing you to the vanity. In the mirror, you watch him press your hips up against the cool marble, watch his hand slither under your dress, watch his lips attach to your throat as he gathers your pitiful wetness on his fingers. 

“Sucking my dick got you wet, baby.” Dave, the asshole he is, pouts mockingly against your skin. “Didn’t it?”

You nod so hard you get dizzy, your lips parting as he inserts his middle finger inside you. 

“Who are you?” he asks, low and slow, curling his finger inside you. 

You gasp, “I'm yours.”

Apparently, that isn't good enough. Dave adds another finger and begins to pump them wetly, making you flex your fingers for a grasp on him. 

“Who. Are. You?”

“I’m your wife, Dave.” You’re panting, your chest heaving while you try to maintain eye contact in the mirror. His pupils are so wide he looks like a rapid animal. “I’m your wife.”

His fingers slow their pace inside you, torturous. “Are you Mrs. Brock?” 

“No! No! Please…” You're a pathetic, writhing mess, black tears merging on your throat. 

“Who are you?” 

“I’m Mrs. York,” you tell him, your eyes unfocused but looking at him nonetheless. “I’m Mrs. York.”

“That's right,” he says gruffly, the pace of his fingers buckling your knees as he finally begins working them deep inside you. “And where do you want me to put my cum, Mrs. York?”

“Inside me,” you cry out. “God, inside me, please! Please…”

“That's my girl. Knows how to play the game.” Dave nibbles your earlobe, his palm rubbing your clit with every swipe. “Open up.”

He does not mean your mouth this time. Swiftly, he kicks your legs apart and bends you over the vanity. Your ass is exposed to the air as he unceremoniously shucks the skirt of your dress up around your hips. He snaps the waistband of your panties against your ass and you squeak, clenching around the two fingers buried in your cunt. 

“You can speak whenever you’d like, baby,” says Dave, removing his fingers and sucking them clean. “Let everyone upstairs to hear how good your security makes you feel.”

You hold his gaze in the mirror. “Good girls are loud,” you tell him, your throat scratched raw. 

You're going to drown in him. You may as well fill up your lungs all the way. 

Dave grins crookedly, satisfied, and you feel the head of his cock wrenching open your cunt. “Oh,” you groan, shivering, your head dropping forward. 

“Nice try.” His hand wraps around your throat again and guides your gaze back up to the mirror. His cock splits you in half, your wetness sucking him in until he's buried deep inside you, his hips grinding against your ass. “You’ll watch me fuck you. Gonna watch me fuck my pussy.”

You think you're drooling onto his hand by the time he begins to take you from behind, your hip bones pummelling the edge of the vanity and his belt buckle slapping your thigh. 

The hand not around your throat spreads open your pussy lips and two fingers find your puffy clit. You choke, the pleasure blinding, hands flailing for a purchase on the marble. The only thing holding you up is him. 

Dave’s eyes are pitch. He stares at you through the mirror, his nostrils flaring, his teeth bared, his hips bucking into your ass. He looks mad with lust, and you aren't much better. You gasp and mewl on his dick, shockwaves coursing through your body as he rubs your clit. 

“Dave…”

He grunts, punching hard inside you. “Use your words, baby. Show me that smart mouth.”

“I… ngh, I feel…” You're gasping for breath, nearing your high as your entire body begins to hum. “I feel so full. Fuck, I’m so full. Please come inside me, please.”

Dave’s close, his balls pulling up again and his rhythm going sloppy. Your pitchy little whines are going to fucking kill him. You’re so wet and soft and your cunt pulls him inside so nicely, and he never wants to leave you. 

He rubs your clit until you seize, your eyes rolling back, your chest heaving. You come hard, clenching so hard around his length that he's stuck for a moment, dropping his face into your neck and biting. 

“Fuck, Dave!” you cry out, soaking his cock, trembling in your too-high shoes and grasping his forearm, your nails making claw marks in his tanned skin. 

It feels so good. He's not gentle or sweet. He’s fucking you, hard and fast, unrelenting. He's imprinting the shape of him inside you so you will never forget who owns you. 

“Oh, shit,” he groans, leaving love bites all over your throat. “So fucking tight, baby. Gonna—”

His nose is buried in you, his cock pressing as deep as possible, the pressure building to white-hot in your eyes. He can't be any more wrapped up in your body as he fills you with his cum, keeping himself snug inside you because you know he doesn't want a drop to spill. You don't mind; your cunt pulls at him greedily, enjoying the heady and warm weight of his body pressed against you. 

Dave groans intermittently with every pulse of his cock, his orgasm pinching his back, loosening the tension in his shoulders. As his head gradually clears, his lips softly trace your bite marks, giving you gentle bumps with his nose. “My good girl,” he murmurs. “Made a mess of your pretty cunt, and you took it so well.”

The praise melts you, makes you gooey, your eyes slipping closed and your head resting on his shoulder while he lifts you upright and readjusts your dress. A soft whine leaves your lips when you feel his cum dribble out of you, but he shushes you with a kiss to your jaw. “I know, sweet girl. I’ll give you more when we get home.”

You comb your fingers through his hair and smile sleepily, thoroughly fucked. “Mmm. Feel better?”

Dave strokes your jaw with his thumb and searches your eyes. “Like a million bucks. You feel okay?”

“I feel like your own personal Twinkie,” you reply, giving your ass a little shake. More cum slips out of your used hole. “Cleaning me up is your job, Mr. York. I can't go out looking like this.”

Dave pouts, swiping a black tear from your cheek. “Cleaning you up will always be my job, baby.” He taps his earpiece. “I need one of you up here with my wife’s makeup bag.”

“On it,” says Ari. 

“Turn off your commlink next time, dickhead,” says Kovac. “Nobody wants to hear that shit.”

~

Dave spends a good chunk of time helping you clean yourself up, regretfully wiping the cum off your thighs, handing you lipstick and mascara like he's a surgeon’s assistant. He also wipes the lipstick off his own face, tucking the used wipe into his breast pocket alongside your engagement ring. You've been gossiping with him in the meantime, and he's surprised to learn he's a bit of a glutton for it. Maybe it's only because it comes from your mouth. 

“And Mary Bergman’s husband is cheating on her with her secretary,” you tell Dave as you reapply mascara to your lashes. He keeps one hand on your hip to keep you steady as your post-orgasmic tremors approach a manageable level. “Apparently, she knows, but only because the secretary has a guilty conscience. You may have a job offer coming your way.”

Dave huffs. “Do you know how many jilted lovers I’ve worked for?”

You ponder it. “Over or under fifty?”

“A man never kills and tells.” He gives a melodramatic wag of his brows. 

“Tease.”

Dave’s hand comes down on your ass in a playful smack. “Trying to keep up with you.”

“You can never outdo me, Mr. York. Don't start trying.” You give him a wicked smile and finish applying your lipstick. “How do I look?”

Dave turns you in his arms and assesses your appearance. You don't look the same as before: hair a little less perfect, makeup obviously retouched, chest a little splotchy. You've rarely looked more stunning, more radiant. He splays his hand over your belly and grins. “I like you this way.”

You roll your eyes fondly. “Why do I even ask? Now, go on, handsome—you should head out before me.”

Dave frowns, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Find me,” he whispers. 

“I always find you.” You cup his face. “I’m yours. If you ever forget that again, you know what to do.”

He toys with the strap of your dress before he exits the bathroom, adjusting his cufflinks and heading back up the stairs, considerably less tense than an hour ago. 

Amazing, the things an orgasm can do. 

You count about two minutes before you leave the bathroom, too, but a barking voice stops you halfway down the stairs. It's your father, hurrying up the grand staircase. Alone. 

“Don't think I don't know what you're doing.”

You tuck your makeup bag under your arm. “I have to hand it to you. I didn't think you noticed anything about me.”

He looks stony calm, albeit unamused. “How little self-esteem you must have to let Dave York use you like that.”

You lift your brows. “Am I grounded?” 

“Don't be cute.” Your father takes another step closer, and you ride to the one behind you. A dance begins. “You're going to marry the senator, and you're going to announce your engagement up on stage in front of the whole damn building and all the presses.” Another step forward, and another backward. His face is hard lines and receding grey hair and veins protruding from his neck. “You’ll say you got your loving father's blessing, and we will smile and wave.”

“Or what?” you say, chancing a step toward him. You’re five apart. 

He smiles as if he’s won some dark prize. “Or I’ll kill your little toy. And I’ll make it painful. Do we understand each other?”

But the victory is yours. It has been yours from the moment you met Dave York. Or, maybe has always been yours. 

“Crystal clear, Daddy,” you say sweetly, letting the nectar drip from your tongue. “Excuse me.”

You pass him on the stairs, not once looking back. Dave is holding a vigil at the bottom of the bannister, his hands folded neatly in front of him. When you look closely, you can see how tightly he's clenching his fists. “I’m all right,” you whisper, risking a gentle brush of your hand against the arm of his jacket. 

His gaze sweeps over you, clinical but not, and he nods. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” You give him a cynical smile. “If lightning strikes me down, put out the fire, will you?”

He watches you go and thinks, I will step into the flame by your side. We will burn together. 

~

When eleven o’clock strikes, you take the stage and accept the microphone from the emcee. 

“Thank you, Mary,” you begin, “for giving me the chance to speak tonight. And to Senator Brock, thank you for inevitably making me look bad when you follow up my speech.” A polite scattering of laughter accompanied your beaming smile. Dave knows that even if you weren't funny, they would all laugh, anyway. Good. 

“I’ll keep this short. Thank you to the Field Museum for letting us use your space, and to the catering tea for keeping our bellies full. And, of course, my biggest thanks goes to everyone who has donated tonight—bought a piece of artwork, had a drink at the bar, sifted through pocket lint to find some cash. You're all contributing to a fantastic cause, and I cannot thank you enough for simply being here.”

For a moment, you let the applause linger, and you find Dave in the back of the room. He puts his hand to his chest briefly, and your smile grows. 

“I have another announcement. I would be remiss if I didn't thank our security tonight; they have been dedicated to keeping you all safe tonight. Not that we've needed saving; everyone seems a bit too tipsy to try anything stupid.” More laughter, more applause, and this is the moment. 

This is your victory podium. 

“On that note—I’m thrilled to announce my engagement,” you tell the room. A gentle hush rises, the gossip-fodder ripening, heads turning, bodies leaning in. Cameras shuttering. 

“My loving father has given Mr. Dave York his blessing to marry me, and I couldn't be happier.” You take a flute of champagne from a tray nearby and toast it in the air, staring your father right in his face. “Thanks, Dad, for noticing my love, and ushering in my happiness.”

It's time for heads to turn toward your father. Dave York himself has slipped quietly away. 

Your father schools his face into something like humble acknowledgement, stiffly lifting his glass in your direction. It's a threat more than it is a congratulations. 

“Thank you for coming tonight,” you say into the microphone, though you're still looking at your father, “and please tip your bartenders.”

Somewhere on the way to your real fiancé, your would-be stops you in the crowd. Victor takes your left hand and squeezes gently. “Congratulations,” he says, giving you a smile that is almost grateful. “You’re good for each other.”

Maybe. Probably not. But you smile back and tell him, “I’m sorry. I could never go through with it.”

“Neither could I,” says Victor, dropping your hand. “Politics shouldn't need leverage. I’m sorry for treating you like a pawn.”

You shake your head. There's nothing to forgive. “How's your mom going to take it?”

“My mother has a restaurant to run,” Victor says mirthlessly. “I doubt she’ll hear the news for another week. I have plenty of time to prepare my speech.”

“We have something in common, then. Good-bye, Victor.”

His eyes glitter with amusement. “You aren't staying for my speech?”

“I think my vote may be a conflict of interest.” You touch him on the arm. “I should go find my fiancé.”

You and Dave agreed to meet by the side entrance, where the valet is bringing his car around. You politely pass a few paparazzi who snap your picture and ask you about your new beau, but when you round the corner and head down the long hallway to the exit, it isn't Dave who awaits you. 

Your smile fades and your gait falters. 

And then your father does something he's never cared enough to do. 

He fists your hair and tugs your head back so hard that your scalp prickles and your eyes begin to water. “You little bitch. You thought that was funny?”

“A little,” you choke out, your hand flying back to grasp his wrist. It does not avail you: he's a strong, tall man, and his grip is ironclad. 

“You embarrassed me. You made me a fool. You lost your inheritance. And you think you're funny.” You feel spittle splash on your cheek. “I’m going up there to make a statement. And you're going to be up there with me, smiling, apologetic for your little joke.”

“No,” you spit, writhing to escape his grasp. “You've already lost. You were a fool before I got up on that stage. You thought I could marry someone I don't love. And now, you get to smile and wave.”

He scowls. “What are you—”

Your eyes flicker back down the hall, where camera shutters click and whir. 

“I said smile, Dad. You have an audience.”

~

The bath is scalding—the way you like it best. 

You slowly submerge yourself until most of your head is underwater, closing your eyes and letting the events of the night slough gently off. At the sink nearby, Dave rolls his sleeves up to his elbows and splashes some cold water on his face. Your eyes flutter shut. 

“He put his hands on me,” you say to the quiet. “He’s never done that before.”

Dave approaches the tub and kneels beside you, his heart kicking up when he sees the discomfort in your posture: your lolling head, your pinched brow, your taut shoulders. He doesn't like this. He needs to help you. He fixes things. He takes away problems. “Baby…” Your eyes crack open, and you meet his gaze, giving him a soft smile. 

“Hi.”

“Does it still hurt?” he asks. 

Silently, you shake your head. Dave gently places his palm at the crown of your head and smooths it down until he reaches the nape of your neck. He kisses your forehead and lingers there for a moment, closing his eyes and relishing your closeness. Your victory. 

“You did everything right today,” he says, brushing his thumb over your chin. “You did beautifully, sweetheart.”

“It did feel good to see his face.” Your engagement ring now comfortably back on your finger, you hold onto Dave’s hand. “And it was nice having you in my corner.”

Guilt is something Dave York doesn't make room for in his day-to-day. Killing entails a certain degree of forgetfulness and a good amount of whiskey can help things along. He unlearned guilt and he learned payment. Guilt is superfluous. A teardrop composed of water and salt cannot change the formula of a blood pool. 

Guilt shreds his ribs into strips of paper at the thought of you dealing with this fallout alone. 

“I wasn't there,” he says. “The day you were attacked in the street, I wasn't there. And I wasn't there when your own father put his fucking hands on you.”

He operates on the aftershocks: mending damage others have done to you after it has already wounded. He wants to be there long before the damage gets done. 

“It's funny,” you say, pulling him back to you. “I can see you thinking sometimes. Losing yourself inside what's past is how Sisyphus keeps himself from finding happiness, you know.”

Dave chuckles, his lips barely brushing your knuckles. There is no happiness to be found in this world if you can get hurt. 

#dave york #kiwisbell's fics #pedro pascal #dave york smut #dave york fanfiction #dave york x female reader #dave york x reader #dave york x f!reader #dave york x you #equalizer 2

[tuituipupu]

ok, i was in the shower thinking about the concept/plot for icip mv + my thoughts began to spiral as more layers of unhinged washed over me so if you'll allow me to just place some stupid plot predictions here... *cracks knuckles, clears throat*

so Käärijä is pregnant...

✨ metaphorically ✨ at least.

HE IS PREGNANT WITH THE NEW KÄÄRIJÄ. PREGNANT WITH A NEW VERSION OF HIMSELF.

i don't know if that at least has been theorised already?, but that's what i'm mainly guessing the concept is.

with all the 'coming soon' hints in the staging and on insta? YEAH THE BIRTH OF A NEW KÄÄRIJÄ / A NEW ERA is coming soon, making room for new sounds, new styles and newer audiences.

also preparing nicely for the upcoming album, could be intro: icip?

so now we have that out of the way, here's my icip mv prediction

⚠ WARNING: MAY CONTAIN STUPIDITY, VIOLENCE, SEX. ⚠

Ok so mv starts. the scene is instantly p intense to match how the song starts.

they're (käärijä & tommy) deep in the forest isolated at their very own crazy party 'rave' complete with green flashing lights.

... and they're 'partying' for sure ahem simulating / being pretty suggestive it throws you into it immediately and will piss off parents and homophobes straight away. 👋 hei hei suckers

cut to häärijä waddling into the woodland clearing - he spots tommy and kä *ahem* 'partying' together and immediately gets jealous/protective of our current cha cha cha käärijä (excuse you that's his best bro. bf. bro. dance partner)...

häärijä furiously waddles out from behind a tree into the midst of the rave, revealing himself + trying to separate them (complete with concerned fast eyebrow wiggling expressions from the yellow man)

käärijä gets pissed at this (häärijä why are u here again ruining the vibe and my fun mf) author's note: häärijä is a precious angel stop being mean to him >:((

tommy either hands käärijä a shovel he bought for protection from forest beasts and käärijä hits häärijä round the head with it (lmao no) and they kidnap him / or they just kidnap him minus that lol.

cut to a shot of tommy and käärijä digging häärijä's grave (the grave seems more häärijä shaped to me) as they stare eerily from above shovelling dirt onto the camera from a häärijä in the ground pov - burying him (kind of alive??)

is there some other kind of murder weapon in their hands below??

... at the next slower bit (pre-chorus?) this is where the baby (new era käärijä) is made as they resume the gay agenda.

so my idea is that obviously they can't be TOO suggestive on yt (everyone booed,) so the way they 'make a baby' is to conceive through the art of TOUCHING HANDS. (so romantic) see below:

something akin to the ken's 'beaching off' if you've seen the barbie movie (super gay ;)

then the next section of the song the new käärijä is created/comes into existence and reveals his new image / personality (water birth scene in the lake with tommy helping? lmao)

as soon as new era käärijä meets his maker (current cha cha cha era käärijä,) he wants to murder/destroy him 🗡💥🩸

tommy instantly goes along with this, preferring new era käärijä and the "hey käärijä u wanna party with me?" spoken word part of the song is tommy speaking to the new era käärijä just created.

as soon as "right here right now? yeaaaaahhh..." is spoken and the final intense drop comes, they finally kill present cha cha cha käärijä probs through drowning him in a lake (what is the lake for? idk you decide, i think it's 2 separate murders)

the new era käärijä + tommy finish raving and collapse by the lake.

✨ the end. ✨

#creativity isn't dead guys #also this is all just stupid silly speculations from my mind as it ran free in the shower. #it's fucked up and funny (to me) and has fucked implications #we will get something crazy for sure either way. #so yeah i think all this strange pregnant talk is like metaphorical. #anyway this is how i spend my sundays #yayyyyy #käärijä #tommy cash #it's crazy it's party #icip #häärijä

[unhonestlymirror]

This movie is very American in terms of perception of death.

In Belarus, hanging out on cemeteries, talking to graves, and looking for them is considered to be normal. In Ukraine and Lithuania, too. (Lithuanins really like gothic style, btw.) Because every single one of us knows how it feels to lose your loved ones because of some "friendly neighbours with missiles" or other stuff. We are constantly dragged into wars and genocides after all. Taking care of graves and dead people makes us value life and living people more. It doesn't let us forget that life is the greatest treasure of all. Everything in life can be corrected except death.

Killing people or people being murdered doesn't make us excited. Even killing people who came to kill and rape us. It makes us terrified, then - exhausted. It makes us snap at random times, random places, and losing control over our emotions and behaviour. It leaves us with insomnia for years and health issues. It makes your heart hardened, you are not able to feel other people like you used to anymore. Nothing fun.

Therefore, seeing the movie encouraging mc perceiving death as something desirable is... very weird to me. I can totally see why anyone who has children will dislike this movie or will even pressure their goth kids more in the future. Goth is not about killing people for fun and then killing yourself for killing people and Love. Goth is about understanding and respecting death. I don't see any respect for death in this movie, that's a total disrespect and complete misunderstanding - and I'm not talking about the resurrection of Creature.

I also think about how Lisa is just like her father: she closes herself completely from anyone, she doesn't talk much, she's very passive. We don't know what her father had to go through after his wife's murder. We don’t know why he decided to marry that obsessed-with-ceramics woman. We just have two clearly traumatized people and Taffy, who's doing her best at making them a better family. Maybe whatever happened to her in the end may look poetic, but to me, it just looks deeply unfair - and it makes me remember the faces of those Ukrainians who lost their family members due to shelling but were "lucky" to stay alive.

Creature/Lisa is ummm... giving very much Edward Callen/Bella vibes. A grown-ass man who has no desire to prevent their loved one from making rash, terrible decisions (Edward, however, didn't have that much unexplainable blood lust, ba-dum-tss) and a traumatized teen girl who believes she found the love of her life. I can understand this desire to be protected by someone who is more mature, who understands you, who listens to everything you say - especially when you lost your mom and there is no one who could protect you - but in real life, such people are very often turn out to be red flags.

I love the picture, I love the motion, the dynamic, the costumes, the soundtrack, the actors' play, the writing and the plot. I just don't love whatever we don't see behind the scenes, I don't love the implications. It doesn't correlate with my life position as a pagan, a goth (in soul), and an Eastern European.

Once again, if your love requires killing people for fun and putting entire families into mourning, if your love is about not preventing your loved ones from objectively horrible decisions which can ruin their lives, if your love is about letting your loved one kill themself - then your love sucks.

Also, Laffy Taffy deserves the best.

#just some thoughts #lisa frankenstein

[wannab-urs]

The Spreadsheet Digest - Fic Recs | Vol. 10

Hi babies!!

Can't believe this is the TENTH week of TSD. I really love sharing what I read with y'all (even if it's lowkey embarrassing to admit how much smut I read in seven days). This week I branched out to a Pedro Boy I don't usually read AND I read a couple different series that like... changed my life.

Fic recs below the Pedro ;)

The last great american dynasty - a Joel one shot by @proxima-writes (part of the Folklore Anthology)

I love love love old homes and I also did a research project in college that involved reading historical letters so this was all just a really cool premise for me. Add in the snarky reader and grumpy joel and it's just heaven on earth for me.

Muddy Waters - a Joel / Ezra series by @bonezone44

This is like... weird. It gives me an eerie feeling. And that is such a fucking compliment btw. I am obsessed. The way you've written Ezra is so fucking interesting (and creepy). Love me a murder boy <3 And reader is really fascinating too ugh. This is so cool. (thanks toxic for pointing me to this w your rec ahhhh).

Bunny - a Javi P two shot by @whatsnewalycat

Obsessed with the premise here. Phone sex operator to get through school?? sign me up. The little Dale Gribble moment was delightful and then it's followed up by incredible phone sex with Javier. And then!!! Part TWO we get professor Javi, which is unfairly hot and the recognition from the voice and just.... oh my god it is everything. I mean this is just the perfect set up for dirty talk and boy does Javi have a mouth on him.

LJ's Bangathon - a Pedro Boys... bangathon? by @prolix-yuy

Every single one of these is incredible. I'm especially partial to the Oberyn x Sit on the Throne one because like... murder + dub con vibes and neither in the way you'd expect. I also adored Jack and Marcus Pike. Their dynamic was so good UGH. Anyway they're all amazing and you should read them.

Learning to Live - a Javi P series by @wheresarizona

This fucking fic is ruining my life. I've been completely consumed with it all week. I can see how a casual viewer of Narcos would say it's OoC for Javi, but I actually think it's kind of genius. Throughout the show you get all these slight glimpses into Javi's true nature: soft, sweet, caring, passionate, gentle... but he's so wrapped up in and beat down by everything in Colombia that he has to be an asshole or he won't fucking survive. The post-show Javi who is ready to start letting all that go is so fucking wonderful to see and I love that Cielito gets to help bring that out of him. The little moments of reconnecting with his family and remembering his mom bring me to tears. The long speeches in Spanish are just so lovely. If you need something to make you weak in the knees and a little teary eyed this is it. Passionate, adoring, filthy, gorgeous smut sandwiched between beautiful little moments of fluff and just the right amount of angst. Me encanta esta historia <3

With or Without You - a Javi P/Frankie series by @jksprincess10

Frankie is so adorable and sweet in this. He just wants to make reader feel good and he also wants to please Javi ugh. And reader is so mischievous getting Javi to do what she wants ahhhhh. And of course our dominant little Javi P is wonderful in this. Fucking top tier smut, Nad. We all know I love a MMF threesome fic lmao.

this is me trying - a Joel one shot by @swiftispunk

This is such a sweet platonic Joel and Ellie fic ugh. I really love fics that explore their relationship post season 1 and like... Joel coming to terms with everything. I loved the set up (similar to his panic attack in episode 6 when he sees the girl by the tree) and I love how Ellie comforts him in her own quintessentially Ellie way. You can see the bond they have where she just kind of knows what to do and say instinctively and it makes me so happy. I see a lot of fics where Joel is trying to comfort Ellie or get her to stop hating him for what he did and it's just really nice to see a fic where Ellie comforts him instead.

take what you need darling - a Joel one shot by @iamasaddie

big thick dick daddy joel what more do you need?

punch the clock - a Javi P one shot by @deathwife

Listen this is exactly what would happen if I worked anywhere near Javier Peña. I would find a way to get him to come with me and I would also be a sassy lil bitch to him constantly. Not like it would be difficult to get Javi to come with pretty much anything with legs and wearing a skirt, but still.

I Can Feel Your Heartbeat - a Jack (Whiskey) series by @psychedelic-ink

Cowboy Jack Daniels is a character who begs to be written as a stripper and this fic delivered. He's hot and sweet and I love it. Part two is sexy as all hell and features clumsy as fuck reader (which is so me). And then it drops the ANGST on you. God I love this. I cannot wait for part three.

The Secret - a Marcus M series by @frannyzooey

This collection of drabbles about a much older Marcus Moreno sneaking into your dorm at night is so fucking hot, y'all. I don't read a whole lot of Marcus Moreno unless he's being sweetly seduced by my favorite piece of shit human, Dieter Bravo. So I clicked on this bc it's by one of my favorite writers and was rec'd by another of my favorite writers and... alright. I'm on the Marcus Moreno train. I get it. And the drabbles left me desperately wanting a full story... wishful thinking?

----------oldies but goodies-----------

Soft - a Dieter one shot by @mishasminion360

Home for the weekend - a Joel one shot by @loquaciousferret

Genesis - an Ezra series by @max--phillips (I'll kiss you if you write more)

Perfectly Intoxicating - a Javi P series by @gracieispunk

Es Tarde y Te Necesito - a Javi P one shot by @gar6agef1r3

Say My Name - a Javi P one shot by @palioom

I Only See Daylight - a Din series by @millersdjarin

A Fresh Start - a Din series by @theidiotwhowritesthings

----------my shit------------

Nothing new! I'm planning a little Javi P thing maybe? Based on my username... MAYBE! Do not get excited.

And maybe a lil Dieter thing based on Dial Drunk by Noah Kahan but again don't hold me to it I am useless most of the time.

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

Happy Reading <3

#fic recs #the spreadsheet digest #vol 10 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction

[honelle56]

unfiltered thoughts on ttpd

I just finished my first listen of TTPD so below you can find my first thoughts on each song as I listened at 6 in the morning (I need sleep so bad lmao)

1. Fortnight

AAAAHHH I AM LISTENING!!!!! This has such Lana vibes omg!

Who do we wanna murder now??

I love you it's ruining my life :(

IS THIS ABOUT MATTY???????????

Is Post Malone getting the female singer treatment hahahahah

oh okay there he is!!

Florida mention!!!!!

2. The Tortured Poets Department

Woah I like this beat!!!

No-fucking-body!!!!

Dream mention????? (golden retriever)

This is so pretty

Wait is this about Travis??? I am so confused. Please tell me this isn't about Matty too

Oh the wedding mention

3. My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

Put me back on the shelf :(

Love the melodies

THE OUTRE THE OUTRO LOVE THISSSS

WHY IS THIS SO SAD FUCK ME

4. Down Bad

I can't do this IT IS SO SAD

"Fuck it if I can't have him"

hahaha

Is this another Matty track........ I can't do this

So fuck you if I can't have us :((((

5. So Long, London

Are we in a church

Jesus fuck why is this so sad

this is so beautiful

I am crying

I sent my full reaction to this song to @bluishfrog and it's basically just me looking at the lyrics while crying lmfao

6. But Daddy I Love Him

This one is about Matty again huh

I need a dictionary

I fuck with this song so bad

7. Fresh Out The Slammer

my first word was "Woah"

Back to cheating

"Years of labor, locks and ceilings In the shade of how he was feeling"

Outch

Oh god this one is hard - this sounds like end of relationship stuff

"Watched me daily disappearing For just one glimpse of his smile"

:((((

So many outros, I really fuck with this

Imaginary rings what if I go die

8. Florida!!!

she cheated too????

omg an actual feature with a female artist!!! We love!!!

I did not think this song would be about murder and drugs lmfao

Sorry I got lost in the dnf-isms, loved the song

9. Guilty as Sin?

I will have to come back to this, I am so tired I just completely zoned out xD

Love the vibes tho

It's a bop ngl

10. Who's Afraid of Little Old Me

Oh I will love this

FUCK IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL

THE CHORUS WOW WOW WOW

THIS IS SO GOOD

This is so my favourite so far

Okay so we are in an asylum lmao

"Put narcotics into all of my songs And that's why you're still singing along"

this is genius

THIS SONG IS AWESOME

11. I Can Fix Him

love the vibes

god her lower register help me

THE ENDING I AM CACKLING THIS IS SONGWRITING PERFECTION (also thanks Taylor for coming to your senses lmfao)

12. loml

this sounds sad..............

Every mention of getting married makes we want to committ

Never quite married FUCK HIM FUCK HIM FUCK HIM

I don't wanna do this anymore

"And all at once, the ink bleeds"

all the songs they wrote together I am...... not fine

"You shit-talked me under the table Talking rings and talking cradles I wish I could unrecall How we almost had it all"

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

this bridge broke me

the loss of my life I-

13. I Can Do It With a Broken Heart

What a bleachers sounding song

okay so this is definitely what we thought it would be about

"Lights, camera, bitch, smile Even when you wanna die"

you go girl

A BOP

i am crying and dancing in my bed

"He said he'd love me for all time But that time was quite short"

FUCK HIM FUCK HIM FUCK HIM

okay time to dance again

"I'm so depressed, I act like it's my birthday every day"

she's so silly

the ad-libs I love her so much

14. The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

not the breath - i wanted to keep dancing :(

"And I don't even want you back, I just want to know If rusting my sparkling summer was the goal"

ughhhhhh

the lower register hitting again

BRIDGE BRIDGE BRIDGE AND WHAT A BRIDGE

oh she is angry agnry

"I would've died for your sins Instead I just died inside"

WHY WHY WHY

FUCK HIM FUCK HIM FUCK HIM

15. The Alchemy

I zoned again lmao

IS THIS ABOUT TRAVIS??????

WHO CHEERED

love this for her

16. Clara Bow

"You look like Taylor Swift In this light, we're loving it You've got edge, she never did The future's bright, dazzling"

oh how I love this, she is such a genius

#Honelle ts #ttpd #i need sleep

[jenbobbyy]

hey if youre still doing hcs could you do specimen 12/old man pls?

INHALES. okay. i dont even know where to start

old man. for convenience im just gonna call him OM for the rest of this because i refuse to call him stanley. stanley is a SPECIFIC name that can only be given to SPECIFIC people with a SPECIFIC voice commanding their actions

looking at the wiki he's described as middle aged... maybe early 50s-early 60s?

youtube has been around for about 15 years and it probably started out as a hobby when he was in his 40s. although he never gained THAT much traction he was probably a niche exploration channel with a little following that dwindled over the years

the guy has a past in professional climbing but urban exploration was a prominent side hobby and interest for him so!!!

most of his notes as the vlogger victim are weirdly calm? i doubt he had much experience in paranormal prior but i guess if you're an urban explorer you're used to places being pretty nasty the further you go

he definitely encountered the specimen (since they're referenced in pretty much every other victim's notes and it's described that he went through specimen areas) but the fact that he never mentions them in his notes is interesting (i guess all these horrors beyond comprehension all equate to an 'uneasy vibe'). there's a lot of persona involved in vlogging so in refraining from actually mentioning any wounds or monsters he's encountered OM is masking the fear he has. he wants to let everyone know 'hey!!! hey im okay and managing!!'

i think the prospect of having an audience might have left him at least a little comforted. he probably found other lines of notes at the time and took solace in the concept of people knowing he's alive and moving (even if they don't know him personally)

i still hate the fact that his writing patterns completely change between specimen 12 and endless mode hallways but i get that if he was going 'hey guys. erm, so THAT just happened.' it would ruin suspense from a gameplay point of view so. I'll let that slide :/

he's been in for a few months and by the time the protagonist meets him, he's not COMPLETELY gone. specimen 12's weird parasitic nature relies on the prior host's death, and in parrying axe attacks he still has some kind of self preservation. but he definitely doesn't remember who he is or why he's there. 12 isn't exactly fully possessing but is more of a mindfuck like foodie and bab that mess with perception and mental state. it controls but doesn't invade

in OG OM was voiced by vernon shaw (hot pepper gaming). altho this was changed as well as the chillis being removed from specimen 12 in HD, the concept of specimen 12 being so deathly and terrible that only incredibly spicy and near-toxic food being able to grow in it is funny. no wonder he sounds like that.

as to further agitate hosts into murder, 12 doesn't actually generate any food. luckily, OM isn't a cannibal host and lives off of whatever he can grow down in the basement and any dead rats or (god forbid) specimen 3 carcasses that are around. If it wasn't for the strength given to him around 12 he would have died in a week

being an extrovert and feeding from that concept of an audience, being alone has had a massive toll on his mental state. this probably made him a more desirable host for 12 - if he's craving conversation and people then having voices and mirages impact his perception would definitely fuck him up enough to give in to kill. i don't usually take common headcanon names into account but people calling 12 'parry' gave me the idea of the spirits of 12 manifesting in visions as a singular being (although this vision is different to every host) in an attempt to aid with the host sympathising and agreeing with it.......

the entire hide-and-seek style game he creates for the protagonist - as well as sparked on by the protag being someone much younger than the typical victim (ILL WRITE MY PROTAG HCS IF ASKED.....) - is a reflection of him stalling to kill in order to entertain himself and 'entertain' his victim. if it weren't for his longing for human contact he'd probably kill straight off-the-bat but the opportunity to fulfill the gap for a short amount of time is open and sought-after.

despite this, there's a mutual separation between him and other specimen. he's not seen as a nuisance alike specimen 14 as he doesn't openly attack the others but is still a missed opportunity and not particularly wanted by anyone. most of the time he remains in specimen 12 but OM will venture out (on occasion) to specimen 13's rooms. his ONE good specimen relationship!!!

ok. POST BAD-END HCS.

fumbling their way thru the mansion would likely lead 14 to again meet OM at some point. 14 being hit with the SPECIMEN BEAM definitely enhanced their strength at least enough to kill and swing that axe more effectively. in anycase, if the two were to fight and OM almost loses, the clarity given through his self preservation is enough to at least make him aware that

1. He's being beat the shit out of by a teenager

2. He's attempting to kill the only other person in a similar situation to him

speaking OF that, the parallels within sjsm of the protag and [i guess ex-protag] seem to be everywhere when it comes to OM.

posters

sprinting mechanics

garden tool weapon in 500

him recovering (or getting worse depending on how you see it) by mentoring and helping 14 survive within the mansion is always a concept i thought of given they're both humans who have (somewhat) made it through. he'd definitely have more of a drive to live on (and kill the enterers b4 they could kill him)

i had the idea that if 12 is constantly expanding and shifting through the mansion then OM and 14 could take advantage of that and start actually growing stuff.... making a little survivors camp and plotting.

anyways. those are my old man headcanons. I have absolutely taken canon and stabbed it 30 times but the concept of an ex protag is so cool

UNDERRATED CHARACTER. OLD MAN FANS WHERE ARE YOU?!

the scar i draw on him is from the fight with 14.......................

#specimen 12 #insane headcanoning #hcs #sjsm #spookys jumpscare mansion #spooky's jumpscare mansion #old man #shojs #shoj #spookys house of jumpscares #spooky's house of jumpscares #specimen 4 #specimen 14 #specimen 6 #specimen 8