#people don't follow you bcs they fear you

[randomnameless]

I've heard you mention before how bad the Zahras chapter is in terms of characterization for the three lords, especially Dimitri, but can you specify the reasons why?

Thanks to the datamine, I can finally get those lines without having to screencap everything from youtube!

So,

For Dimitri, Claude says this :

I'm just gonna come out and say it: After the war, I'm going to abolish the Central Church and depose the archbishop. The people of Fódlan have been shackled by this decrepit system for too long, and I'm ending it.

So okayyy...

Claude just says he has some beef with the person Dimitri welcomed as a refugee. Why?

That's right. Think about it. Who steals your freedom and gives you an endless list of duties and obligations simply because you have a Crest?

Dimitri's obligations and duties are his, not because he has a crest, but because he is a King - just like King of Almyra would have obligations and duties not to let his own people starve or be used as meatshields in Saturday raids, or letting his spurned son mount the biggest invasion ever because he's too busy mopping about his missing son, but apparently the King of Almyra doesn't give a fuck about his people.

And while yes, Dimitri is a King because he was born with a crest as Lambert's son... The need to have a crested King never came from the Church, and let's be real, Dimitri, as the character we know, feels like he has a duty to people and wishes to help because he is Dimitri, even if he was crestless like Ashe, Dimitri would want to help (just like Ashe!).

Who forces you and your friends into a bunch of unwanted marriages and positions of power?

That's not the Church, for sure, but the feudal notion of nobility - even if, let's be real, it is completely hypocritical for Claude to say this, because the same notion of nobility also exists in places around the continent where the CoS has no sway like... Almyra?

And about the unwanted marriages, again, Claude knows (or should know) Lorenz and his marriage problems, it is not the Church who forces people in unwanted marriages, but the responsibilities that come with being a Noble - Lorenz marrying Marianne means both house Gloucester and House Edmund are strengthened and could work more closely, maybe being able to rival Riegan or even overtake them in an "importance" contest, Lorenz marrying Leonie means... House Gloucester stays House Gloucester.

It's also hilarious because AG has a NPC talking about her marriage to House Gautier (I think?), and she never mentions the Church, rather mentions how she ultimately loves her husband.

The church even forbids any official contact with outside regions!

Source : my chamber pot

Dimitri knows well, after having seen Rhea helping Duscurian refugees, that the Church does not forbid contact with "outside regions", hell, Faerghus and Duscur were on relative good grounds, before the Regicide.

Not exactly great for Faerghus, right? Being as close to Sreng and Albinea as you are.

If Faerghus has sour relationships with Sreng, it's because of border raids, but of course a Prince of Almyra will never talk about this :)

And we know Albinea trades a lot with Fodlan, in general, if their damn fruits being in every region is any indication - or this tidbit from the Book detailing the Royal Territories of Faerghus :

Dominic A small but beautiful barony. Its coastal cities have become a hub of commerce through trade with Albinea.

Too bad Claude speaks, again, with confidence, about something he doesn't know, but can you imagine a micro-second that Dimitri doesn't know who Dominic trades with? Gilbert, a second son of House Dominic, is pious to a fault - but apparently he never bothers telling his brother that trading with Albinea is BaD, so...

Claude, again, is presenting the contents of his chamber pot to Dimitri, asking him to trust him based on those.

Claude continues, after assuring Dimitri that Faerghus isn't his goal !

And really, our enemy isn't the actual church so much as the people at the top who make all the decisions.

Rhea BaD

So it's not even about the Church in General, but apparently, Rhea (as the people at the top) makes the decisions to, uh, prevent the world from interacting with Fodlan (but there are Morfis merchants in Garreg Mach???) - the same woman who, in AG, we hear busies herself helping children and refugees from Duscur after a fire or what not.

(And that's not talking about the kind of official "contact" Adrestia had with Brigid and Sreng...)

I'm sorry Claude, but if the Alliance doesn't want to have any "official" contact with Almyra, it's not because Rhea forbids said contact, but it's because your father, your brother and your retainer (?) Nader apparently do not see anything wrong with a penis measuring contest that consists in raiding, "rampaging" and "bringing souvenirs" from Fodlan for funsies.

So, after playing 12 chapters in AG where Dimitri knows what Rhea does, we could expect some rebuttal, right?

I understand where you're coming from, Claude, and on a personal level I actually agree with you.

Dimi, no :(

But as King, he is opposed, not because a King has to use his head and can't do stupid shit on a whim (like marrying the still current wife of a foreign leader!)

Yes, for three reasons. First, abolishing the church would deny the king's right to rule Faerghus. Without one, the people will descend into chaos and war. Would you be able to take responsibility for such a thing, once it came to pass?

My Bad!

That mention of the King's right to rule Faerghus coming from the Church was nonsensical during the discourse days, and still is, after Nopes.

If the Kingdom's name is "Holy", remember that a name and a history doesn't mean a thing when people don't want to follow it - again, remember what happened with Adrestia? They pissed on the Church, Rhea acting as a witness is a custom you can ignore whenever you want, and they are actually waging a war against the Church of Seiros, when Seiros herself fucking created (together with Willy!) the country who has her own symbol on their flag!

Faerghus won its independence against Adrestia, Church or no Church, Faerghus existed by fucking over the Empire (as it was led by Loog). Without the Church, and faced with a powerful Empire, are we really supposed to think Faerghians won't rally behind Loog's scion to, hm, protect them or at least ensure their continued independence from Adrestia?

Second, recklessly discarding the church will only incite discord among the clergy and its supporters.

This is a somewhat valid reason, as we know, the CoS helped the Kingdom in recent times, especially after the regicide. But they are also currently helping the Kingdom against Supreme Leader's war of conquest, let it be by taking care of randoms or sending its knights to support Faerghus.

Also, the Kingdom operates on "shat upon by this game" notions of gratitude, love and loyalty - unlike Adrestia, if Supreme Leader's stunt of backstabbing the CoS after they helped her get rid of "corruption" in the Empire is any indication. And I doubt the same Kingdom folk would readily accept it if their King suddenly got rid of the organisation/woman who helped them so much during their time of need.

And finally, a revolution of this nature will not only mean casualties among the commonfolk, but will endanger your own life as well.

I will have to check the JP text because this "revolution" word is a bit contrived - there's no revolution if you're just kicking out a religious organisation in YOUR Kingdom - but yes, commonfolk will be pissed (maybe take up weapons?) even if I'm pretty sure some "noblefolk" will also be pissed at this decision.

And because Dimitri worries about everyone - save for Rhea and the church apparently because they BaD - he also worries about Claude's life.

Leaving the first two for a second, I have some serious issues with that last one. I'm glad you're concerned for my safety, but I can take care of myself

Claude really replies with "leaving logic aside" and the commonfolk casualties he doesn't give a fuck about if GW is any indication, uwu don't worry about me I can watch over myself :)

Ah, good ol' Plot Armor :)

But don't you see? The people you wish to depose are human, just as you are.

Hahahan hilarious Dimitri, those people aren't human ! Supreme Leader told me!

No matter what ingenious scheme you come up with or how careful you try to be, they will suffer.

Is he trying to appeal to Claude's compassion and moral fiber? The guy who is, in GW, invading his country for funsies, staging a double invasion with Sreng forces who are just used as decoy/fodder?

And their vengeance will eventually find you, no matter how hard you try to stave it off. I know full well the guilt that accompanies such actions…and the retribution they provoke

Lol, no.

Who can give a fuck about the suffering of Nabateans/Church folk? Being backstabbed by everyone because of propaganda, and needing to die for reasons as consistent as a baby's first purée?

"don't do that Claude, Rhea will be angry and swear vengeance against you, and blablabla cycle of hatred and retributions and blabla"

Everyone has to deal with the consequences of their decisions. If you let it rule you, Fódlan never changes.

Says Mister "I abolished a Republic and created a Kingdom in the land that used to say "we bow to no king and to no emperor" " or "I'm invading your land and killing your people" or even "I'm enrolling Almyrans in my army who will rampage and bring souvenirs and the Leicesterians (?) are totally okay with it!" ?

Claude who never ever faces any consequences for his bonkers decision through the entire game? That guy? Talks about "dealing with the consequences"? Fodlan changing is more important than Fodlan dying?

(at least that's how it was for the Alliance turned Federation...)

But not taking the time to look where you're going will only lead you to stumble and fall. And if there are those who would be hurt by this, I consider it my duty to help them.

Dimitri wants to help... Claude, who would be hurt with this "revolution", but dgaf about getting rid of the Church, aka Rhea/Seteth/the clergy who would also, obviously, be "hurt" by this stupid idea?

Heh. There you go, trying to save everyone again. You really are too good for me!

Not everyone, as we all understood - the Church can burn :)

To be honest, I'm jealous of how you're not burdened with the same restrictions.

"tbh Claude, I'm jealous of how you don't give a fuck about the number of deaths your actions are causing"

Are we... sure that's Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd talking here? Really? Wasn't he body snatched by Chilon?

Forgot OOC, this line wouldn't even be said by this character.

In the world I'm trying to create, you wouldn't be burdened by them either. You could even… No, forget that. I'm serious about what I said, though. And I really do admire how you want to save everyone. Honestly, if you weren't a king, I think we could've been friends.

"In my world, you too wouldn't give a fuck about the deaths/suffering your actions are creating! You're only worried about them because you are king! But if you weren't, you could be an amoral asshole, just like me! Could we be fwends in an AU plz?"

I feel much the same. Had I joined with you, I might have been able to see a different vision of Fódlan.

"yeah!"

Sadly, Dimitri isn't able to throw his compassion and morals to the trashcan, so he cannot join Claude !

And if you consider this line can be said during the GW events (remember, the invasion, killing Matthias, killing his soldiers and his people, etc etc), this is even more insulting.

So, as a good friend said, this Zahrofl convo shits on FE16!Claude (but the games is all about it), but more importantly, it is the only place in the game where Dimitri is Nopes'd, aka, his character does a 180° and/or is butchered because the plot demands so.

Like, anon, can you imagine a second, Dimitri, the Dimitri, wishing he too, couldn't "be burdened"' by the suffering he creates?

Imo, it's on par with Supreme Leader suddenly loving the sun and loving to swim. That character wouldn't be Supreme Leader, just like the person in this convo, isn't Fodlan's Dimitri (tfw Engage's Emblem!Dimitri is more faithful to IS's idea of Dimitri than Nopes lol).

#anon #replies #3 nopes #poor Dimitri #Nopes'd #funny how both claude and clout talk about consequences #when both games off screen said consequences or they just don't exist at all for him #ditto with Supreme Leader but that's another cup of Hresvelg Tea #Faerghus and arguable the Church are the only ones who face 'consequences' for their actions or the actions that are supposedly theirs #and the fact that this game never bothers having anyone or anything contradict both Clout and Supreme Leader on screen when they're saying #oranges are purple is really something #you see in supports and through the lines orange oranges #but no one ever tells them that no purple oranges aren't in this game #bring me more concrecte evidence that the oranges you talk about exist #also note the lack of consideration or even sympathy given to Nabateans/church folks #it's bad to backstab them like dicks because they will come after your ass #not because backstabbing someone who turned to you for help and helped you in return is a dick move #i mean there's a reason why in ASOIAF the Starks are the uncontested good guys/heroes of the series #iirc there was that pretty powerful scene when sansa refuses cersei's mindset #people don't follow you bcs they fear you #they follow and listen to you because they love you #anyways a Dimitri who ditches his allies and wards while not being under duress is imo not Dimitri #but maybe i haven't studied his character enough?

[utilitycaster]

You know what's interesting to me? For all people keep claiming at every juncture that perhaps Bells Hells will come around on the gods and see the harm they do (which, as discussed extensively, is, half the time, simply not intervening) not only have they never done so, but also they never quite cross the line into saying the party should join the Ruby Vanguard or aid them - and indeed, they defend against it - so what does this achieve? It feels like they're asking for a story in which the party stands idly by, which isn't much of a story nor, if I may connect this briefly to the real world, a political stance anyone should be proud of.

That's honestly the frustration with the gods and the "what if the Vanguard has a point" conversations in-game. What do we do then? Do we allow the organization that will murder anyone for pretty much any reason that loosely ties into their goals run rampant? The group that (perhaps unwittingly, but then again, Otohan's blades had that poison) disrupted magic world-wide, and caused people who had the misfortune to live at nexus points to be teleported (most, as commoners, without means of return). While also fomenting worldwide unrest?

Those were the arguments before the trip to Ruidus; with the reveal of the Vanguard's goals to invade Exandria, the situation becomes even more dire. Do you let the Imperium take over the planet?

And do the arguments against the gods even hold up? If Ludinus is so angry at them for the Calamity, what does it say that he destroyed Western Wildemount's first post-Calamity society for entirely selfish means? (What does it say about the validity of vengeance as a motivator?) What does it say that Laudna told Imogen she could always just live in a cottage quietly without issue before the solstice even happened? (Would this still be true if the Imperium controls the world?) What does it say that when faced with a furious, grieving party and the daughter she keeps telling herself was her reason for all of this, Liliana can't provide an answer to the question of what the gods have done other than that their followers will retaliate...for, you know, the Vanguard's endless list of murders. (That is how the Vanguard and Imperium tend to think, huh? "How dare your face get in the way of my boot; how dare you hit me back when I strike you.") She can't even provide a positive answer - why is Predathos better - other than "I feel it", even though Imogen and Fearne know firsthand that Predathos can provide artificial feelings of elation. Given all the harm Ludinus has done in pursuit, why isn't the conclusion "the gods should have crashed Aeor in such a way that the tech was unrecoverable?"

Even as early as the first real discussion on what the party should do, the fandom always stopped short of saying "no, Imogen's right, they should join up with the people who killed half the party," it was always "no, she didn't really mean it, she just was trying to connect with her mother." Well, she's connected with her mother, and at this point the party doesn't even care about the gods particularly (their only divinely-connected party member having died to prevent the Vanguard from killing all of them). So they will stop the Vanguard; as Ashton says, the means are unforgiveable. As Laudna says, it's not safe to bet on Predathos's apathy. As Imogen says, she's done running; the voice that she used to think of as a lifeline belongs to someone she doesn't trust. So I guess my question is: if they're stopping the people who are trying to kill the gods (and defense of the gods isn't remotely their personal motivation)...do you think the next phase of the campaign is Bells Hells personally killing the gods? Reconstructing the Aeor tech and hoping none of their allies notice? How does this end? Does your ideology ever get enacted? Or is this entirely moot and pointless and the story ends with Bells Hells saying "well, I'm really glad we stopped the people who [insert list of Vanguard atrocities from above]; none of us follow the gods or plan to, but honestly, the status quo we return to is preferable to whatever nightmare Ludinus had concocted in his violent quest for power and revenge"?

#i've got a lot to do today so I think I'm done posting but #cr spoilers #i called that this particular cohort of fans had empathy only for those like them and were terrified of player agency like. 18 mos ago #and i have never been proven wrong. zero analysis just a constant demand that everyone coddle their feelings and confirm their biases #literally will straight up fabricate lore and cry you're disrespecting a pretend person for not including it in your considerations #absolutely SHIT understanding of actual lore. utter incapacity to follow a logical throughline to its conclusion #it's like. wow. wonder why you're so focused on hypocrisy and you overreact to the word selfish #the reason they hate or fear orym (they say they don't...but that just means they want him to go to a reeducation camp instead of die) #is bc i think they are truly terrified of the idea that people can not just hold opinions that are against theirs but stand fast by them #easier to stan the villain because then they die and you can feel wronged and betrayed and wallow in a sense of continual victimhood #than to like a character who might last long enough to call you the idiot and asshole that you are #but it's also funny bc literally if orym weren't there in the latest convo the conclusion is the same. #ashton's had the same opinion of the vanguard the whole time (and it's not positive) but that's not under scrutiny #probably bc it doesn't allow people to be ghoulish in the most cringeworthy way possible

[dandyshucks]

okay its going under a readmore bc its messy and a lot, i'll try to keep it succinct though. CW for some discussion of the ongoing g.enocide and things around that topic

so one of the friends is someone I've really respected and admired because they're a very intelligent well-spoken and kind-hearted individual. i've really been impressed with how they think about things and with their ability to write really fantastic essays (that they often share with this friend group because they're in school and enjoy sharing their work with us because a lot of us are interested in the things they write about). about a year ago, this person went through the process of converting to j.udaism and we were all very excited (and continue to be happy) for them. they've been really happy with the process and the community they've found and it's been really good for them.

however! this person has since stated they are a z.ionist! and they've said that it just means that j.ewish people should live in i.srael, it doesn't mean they support the i.df or what is happening in p.alestine currently. but I'm just... baffled at how they can think that non-p.alestinians occupying the country could EVER be done peacefully. it has ALWAYS been colonization. it was never going to be done in a peaceful manner.

do j.ewish people deserve a safe place to exist? absolutely! but I do not think, ESPECIALLY now, that that safe place can ever be located in p.alestine. I'm not the most educated or well-read individual, I've done a bit of reading over the past few months but my memory is shoddy and I consistently forget almost everything I've read, but as far as I can tell, this has been a non-peaceful occupation (...can occupation ever really be done peacefully in reality? i doubt it.) from the very beginning. p.alestinians were being kicked out of their houses from the start.

and to add onto the messiness of this all, I am the only i.ndigenous person in the entire group. I am the only one coming at this from an i.ndigenous perspective. and because of my perspective, I am ALWAYS going to be on the side of the population that first lived and existed in a place. i am always on the side of l.and back, i am always on the side of the first peoples. anything less would be essentially agreeing with colonization.

so it is just incredibly uncomfortable to be the only i.ndigenous person in this group while the rest of the group has discussed and expressed sympathy with this person for holding self-professed z.ionist beliefs (I do not believe this person has done the right reading to fully understand what they are saying, which is so strange because they are usually so good about educating themself). and I feel like if I try to say anything to argue or simply question this person, I'm going to rock the boat too much and make Everyone uncomfortable and the entire thing will blow up and fall apart around me. so my options seem to be either: a) say something, b) say nothing and stay in the group, or c) say nothing and quietly leave the group. none of which feel like good options!

and it sucks so much because there are people I genuinely do like in this group, and I've liked this one person and respected them since I met them, but they're really .... showing themself to be an unsafe person at the end of the day. I keep feeling like maybe I'm not seeing something or maybe I'm missing something, but I've looked at this from multiple angles and while I do absolutely see where they're coming from and even sympathise with some of it, I disagree with them on a fundamental level.

(also it seems really fucked up for them to be newly converted to j.udaism and endorsing what is essentially colonization and lowkey ignoring the fact that PEOPLE ARE BEING GENOCIDED RIGHT NOW so maybe we should not be discussing "but where are all the j.ewish ppl going to live :(" until the bullets and bombs stop at the very least(????????), while I've been indigenous and dealing with the consequences of attempted (and still ongoing!) genocide and colonization my entire life)

#its all so unbelievably fucked up and uncomfortable #and I think that the other ppl in the group do not like... see the flaw in what this individual is saying #because they are !!! not !!! i.ndigenous !!!! they are all completely white !!!! #i'm just. head in my heads clawing my hands down my face. so ... i dont have a word for this actually #its like. fear mixed with anger mixed with hurt mixed with confusion and shock and horror that these ppl are being this way #also not all of them have engaged in the convos so i dont know everyones opinions on the situation #it just. i dont know. i dont know! its so fucked up #dandy.cmd #vent // #ask to tag #i won't be discussing this sort of thing regularly here btw fdjskl this is a one-off probably #i just needed to get it off my chest and put it somewhere because i don't know what to do #and i can't talk about it on my other account bc i have some of the ppl following me there #and here i only have one person following me and if u see this hi You are okay !!! u are not part of this fdsjkl and u can dm me #but i do not think u have done anything wrong and im not lumping u in with these people #i can explain things more to u if u want though because man alive its all so tangled and messed up #but u and a couple others are not people who are making me uncomfortable bc i trust you and havent seen those two others engage #so i'm just kind of sitting here like. hm. idk what to do. and i dont want to bring it up w you randomly fdshgjkl

[elysianymph]

i KNOW that "in the blood" is connected to the story of the hades game but it's such a good black family song

#'born to our lives//all but our own' UHM #'home is not where you live // but who cares when you're gone // they'll follow you to the beyond' is literally wolfstar #i'm crying #'run all you like // from the place you belong' SIRIUS AND ANDROMEDA?? #zagreus is a little sirius coded actually #not the part about searching for his mom but running away from home?? having a bf who people fear bc they don't understand who he is??? #i haven't played that game in so long </3 #nymph rambles

[k4vehrtz]

⸻ YOU'RE A CRISIS OF MY FAITH

. ✦ . starring — dom!top! t. fushiguro / m! reader

warnings — porn with some plot, sacrilege, a copious amount of religious themes, priest! reader, virgin reader ergo loss of virginity, allusion to homophobia / internalised homophobia, unprotected sex, blowjob (r receiving), deepthroating, fingering, riding, creampie, toji lowkey has a corruption kink, use of the nickname 'angel', toji refers to the reader as father once but that is entirely in a religious sense . ✦ . wc — 2.1k . ✦ . notes — we'll all pretend that didn't just happen!! anyway!! i'm so so normal about toji...and !! i don't know what exactly falls under dark content but seeing as this contains sacrilege you've been warned nevertheless. not proof read bc t**blr stressed me out

“what does —” he stops himself mid-sentence to motion upwards, “the big man upstairs think about homosexuality?”

you swallow hard, your adam’s apple bobbing. you hadn’t expected the question, naturally. especially from the likes of toji fushiguro of all people. but you answer anyway. “well,” you murmur, averting your gaze so that you’d stare out the window as the first signs of winter begin to settle in for its extended stay instead of being forced to meet toji’s pointed gaze. “we all are subject to desires that may or may not reflect god’s light, but these desires aren’t sinful unless you act or encourage others to act on them.”

he nods almost absentmindedly in response before following up with: “…even you, i imagine, as a man of god, could fall victim to such desires?”

and you pause for a beat, your jaw tightening as an image escapes the dark recesses of your mind; the neat box you’ve forced what you deemed unpleasant thoughts into.

the man in your mind didn’t look quite like anyone you knew at first. he was just a man without a name or a face — similarly to the world before god’s divine intervention, he too was without form. but then, by chance, you met toji fushiguro and his teenage son. then the man who’d haunt your thoughts began to change.

he was older, weathered by life experiences and parenting, and taller, maybe 6’2, with messy black hair that fell over his brows. his hair reminded you of the cloudless, starless night sky. then there was that scar on the corner of his right lip. you’d imagined yourself on more than one occasion leaning toward him, pressing your lips against it before he’d open his mouth and let you explore the wet cavern.

though you shake your head as if that would dismiss your thoughts, fingers curling defensively around the window’s ledge. “everyone encounters temptation in their day-to-day, but, like god’s son, we must resist.” you counter eventually. “you’re not one for idle chatter.”

��i’m not,” he agrees, his voice smooth, something akin to the feeling of silk against your skin. it gives you goosebumps and makes the hairs stand up. he puts his hands up in mock surrender, his gaze intent. you can feel him burning holes into the back of your head. “you know, i think i’m long overdue for a confession.”

“as you wish.”

“our heavenly father has declared the following in the book of james, chapter five, verse sixteen: ‘therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. the prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective’. now, in the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy spirit, amen.”

silence — and then toji sucks in a breath, his voice thick with an emotion you can’t quite grasp but has you shifting in your seat on the other side of the confessional booth anyway. you’re, on some level, disgusted by your behaviour. it’s unprofessional at best, or perhaps the beginning of your unravelling at worst. you fear it’s the latter.

“bless me, father, for i have sinned,” the words slide off his tongue with ease, “it has been two months since my last confession.” and your eyes flutter closed, or maybe you forced them closed because you feel no better than a pervert by the way you ache at every sound that comes out of his mouth.

either way, you don’t notice the way the door creaks as toji lets himself out of his side of the confessional booth and opens the door to yours until he’s kneeling in front of you, the pads of his fingers digging into your sides. the skin of his fingers is rough, worn out from the different tasks he takes on to keep himself and megumi afloat, you think. he’s become something of a handyman around town.

“to be honest, father,” he says, now directly addressing you. “i came here fer’ your guidance…you see, i’ve been havin’ thoughts lately that i don’t think align with what god wants.” and you find yourself at a loss, your eyes still closed, though your adam’s apple bobs again as you swallow your suppressed thoughts. “my guidance?” you repeat quietly, “confess your…thoughts…then, and seek forgiveness. it’s not a sin unless you act on those thoughts.”

he lets out a pleased hum at that, leaning forward so that his face is practically buried in your clothed crotch. “so,” he counters, “if my understanding is correct, would it be a sin if i told you to spread your legs f’me?”

you don’t trust yourself to speak right now — not when your thoughts are all muddled. so, you simply nod and toji clicks his tongue. “but sin or not, you’re going to anyway because you and i both know how we feel about each other, right? c’mon, use your big boy words and tell me.”

the smart thing—no, the right thing to do here would be to say no. adamantly deny the lingering touches and glances that the two of you had come to share. affection between two men could only go so far. but then again, you’ve gone so much farther in the safety of your bedroom long after the sun has set. how much longer could you shamelessly show your face to the other members of the church and listen to them confess their deepest secrets to you? you’re parading as a righteous man when you’re anything but.

if it turns out to be as bad of a sin as they say, god will strike you down.

turns out it’s not as bad of a sin as they say — or maybe it is and you’ve yet to receive divine punishment.

“god works in mysterious ways,” you say under your breath but toji hears it anyway. how could he not when you’re in such proximity to each other? you hadn’t meant to say it out loud but it doesn’t matter. and toji (ever the charmer) takes it upon himself to respond, “maybe he brought us together for a reason…or maybe i’m one of lucifer’s lackeys sent to seduce you.”

you make the conscious decision to ignore that which seems to entertain toji even more. he’s ridiculous in ways you can’t fathom. like…the way he’s got your legs spread, back pressed firmly against the wood of the confessional, your thighs trembling as he clicks his tongue, “spread yer’ legs a little wider f’me angel, s’not enough f’me to suck that pretty cock.”

he… he knows what he’s doing. whereas you were clumsy and inexperienced. but, to be fair, you had taken a vow of celibacy when you were twelve.

now, though, you’re experiencing true pleasure for the first time — and with a man, no less. you tilt your head back in what little space the confessional affords you as toji gives your balls tentative touches, maybe light squeezes, as he aligns the head of your leaking cock with his mouth. you’re embarrassed, warmth flooding your cheeks, but you can’t look away. not when this is all you’ve ever wanted.

there’s pre-cum on his lips; your pre-cum. it’s there, as clear as day, and he’s entirely unbothered. all of his attention is on your cock. your cock that’s throbbing as he sucks on it. pre-cum and saliva mixing. it’s all so new to you.

as for him…well isn’t this cute? you’re trying your hardest to stifle those needy moans of yours, he can tell. but no matter how much you bite down on your lower lip or how you press your hands against your mouth those pretty sounds you make always find a way of escaping. part of him, somewhere deep down, feels guilty for corrupting you like this. but perhaps he doesn’t feel guilty enough.

he continues to work on your cock, sucking on it whilst simultaneously fondling with your balls. you’re quivering, rutting your hips forward now and then. occasionally you go too far and it scares you at first — you didn’t mean to push your cock all the way to the back of his throat! ever the unbothered, though, he welcomes it until you’re spurting your load down his throat. and he swallows, utterly content.

then he coos at you, bringing a thumb up to your face, and tracing the outline of your jaw. “don’t worry about me, angel, you’re not going to hurt me. what you’re going to do f’me is let me reposition us so i can see your pretty boy hole, m’kay? my boy can do that f’me, right?”

my boy. the idea of being his. after so long…it only feels right. so, you allow him to readjust your position so that you’re straddling his lap and somewhere in the process you both disregard your clothes.

“you’ve been thinking about my cock? that’s why yer’ hole is winking f’me? all ready to take my cock like a big boy?” he asks and you nod your head eagerly. every word that comes out of his mouth is dirty but your reactions are the icing on the cake. you’re not the quiet, unassuming priest he met by chance all those months back. and to think that he’s the reason why.

well, he doesn’t linger on the thought. you’re impatient, squirming on his thighs in search of friction. but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t get him going and he may be many things but he would not force himself into you without properly preparing you to take him.

so as much as you whine about it, he ultimately takes his time with you. the nearest lubricant happened to be some sort of oil, but he made sure that it was safe to use before coating his fingers in a generous amount. then he oh so carefully drags his finger across your hole. it makes you shudder, but after a few minutes of this, you find yourself unprepared for the stretch of fitting a singular digit in. it hurts and the moment you so much as whimper toji’s pressing his lips against yours. the same lips that were around your cock only moments ago. his lips are gentle, soothing, even.

and he keeps it like that — his lips against yours as he slowly introduces more fingers into your ass. it takes a while but your pained whimpers soon morph into more desperate, filthy little noises as he drags his fingers in and out of your hole before curling them, tips grazing your prostate.

you want it, you decide. his cock, that is. you want his cock in your ass beyond a reasonable doubt. it’s all you need. bouncing on his fingers feels good but you just know that his cock would feel so much better.

“this is a sin, we’re both sinning,” you announce, your words strong but your delivery coming in between laboured gasps as his fingers continue to graze your prostate. “so i expect you to fuck me like you mean it.”

and he doesn’t need to be told twice. with a scoff — one that sounds more amused than annoyed — he pulls his fingers out of you. shaking his head as you whimper at the loss. but it’s soon replaced by something bigger and much thicker. it’s his cock, covered in the same oil, and you almost can’t believe it when he’s aligning it with your entrance, pushing past the tight ring of muscle.

you have to take a few breaks before you fully sink on him with a low groan. he makes you feel so full and he hasn’t even moved yet. and when you take it upon yourself to ride him you revert to the softheaded boy he makes you out to be.

your movements are clumsy — mediocre, you’re sure of it. but toji doesn’t intervene. he simply leans back, big, warm hands on your hips, while you figure out your rhythm. and after a few failed attempts you find one that works for both of you. it feels good, it feels great even. his hard cock filling you to the brim while you all but mindlessly bounce on his cock, your walls clenching around his throbbing length.

you’re going to cum soon, you’re sure of it. and when you do eventually watch through teary eyes as your cock spurts ropes of cum onto his stomach you’re not surprised whatsoever. toji, however, takes a lot longer to cum. you’ve probably cum at least two more times by the time toji takes control, his grip on your hips tightening as he angles you just the right way to hit your prostate with each thrust of his hips upwards. your toes curl, eyes half-lidded, and you just barely acknowledge the warmth of his semen in your ass.

all you can think of, and just barely manage to stutter out is: “you’ve fucked me,” and he stares up at you with a smug smile, chest heaving as he copes with his orgasm that has been a long time coming, “yeah, i’ve fucked yer’ pretty boy hole.”

#x male reader smut #x bottom male reader #toji x male reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #toji x you #toji x y/n #jjk x y/n #x sub male reader #jjk x male reader #toji fushiguro #toji smut

[evilcowgirl]

jealous ellie headcanons

ft. sapphic longing

i get my inspo from sintuationships bc im real

୨♡୧

ellie doesn't like not being around you at social events, or with you out of her sight. it stresses her out so much that she can't even properly enjoy herself without you close to her. can barely pay attention if someone's speaking to her because shes busy trying to watch you in the crowd.

convinces herself that everyone wants you. you often have to assure her that your friends and other people you interact with casually aren't secretly pinning over you or waiting on the opportunity to make a move. she never believes you, always stuck on the idea that you're too good to not have a billion more options.

ALWAYS thinks someone is flirting with you, and get pouty about it. when she's feeling bold enough she'll say something direct.

"i mean you didn't see the way she was looking at you from my perspective, you guys were basically at 3rd base."

ellie knows that you're only her friend, that you don't owe her loyalty, but anytime you bring up time you've spent with someone else she goes all quiet and short with you, not because she's mad at you, but because she gets an unexplainable feeling in her stomach like she's gonna drop dead when she thinks of you enjoying the company of anyone else but her.

cannot go an hour without bringing you up to other people (barely exaggerating.) her mind wanders to you so often she hardly even notices it. at the sight of a trinket you'd like, or a color she knows you love. whenever she hears someone say something that reminds her of you, she's quick to to point that out. you stay on her mind always.

can't handle being away from you too long, she gets antsy and starts asking around about your whereabouts. especially when she's missing you, all hell breaks loose. when she finds out that you were only getting lunch or something simple like that she feels embarrassed at how desperate she was to find you. (she'll definitely do it again tmr.)

likes to see you sitting in her room, around all her stuff doing whatever. painting your nails, reading, listening to music ect. just getting to see you in her personal space makes her happy. knowing that you're safe and with her.

will start an argument if she doesn't know where you've been. arguing with ellie is always slightly maddening because shes so nonchalant when she's being ridiculous that it makes you question yourself.

she's so sweet and nervous when she apologizes though, going over what shes going to say over and over in her room and still messing up.

"i'm just—fuck this is stupid—i shouldn't have said what i said to you. . . about the thing earlier?" she'll look away like a scolded puppy waiting on you to say something. "i'm sorry."

if you accept her apology, you can visibly see the fear leave her body. the worst thing that could happen to her is losing you and anytime she thinks that might happen her whole world gets turned upside down until she knows you're okay with her.

she doesn't see you as her property, just something really special that she wants to keep safe and close.

likes to keep a hand on you when you're walking with her. on your waist, a hand around your wrist or tugging at your clothes when she needs you to follow. she doesn't care if people notice, she'd prefer them to see actually.

writes the little things she notices about you down like she's studying you or something. the way you look at her when you're listening intently, how you act when you're sleepy. things she knows no one else would take note of. she jots down her thoughts about you when they're overwhelming because it helps, talking about it isn't an option she doesn't want to share you with anyone.

"she's so pretty when she's doing her hair, like a fucking angel on earth. she's driving me INSANE. i feel like i'm going to mess this up somehow."

gets jealous when you're babying dogs in front of her and will admit it !

"you never pay that much attention to me." when you totally do.

huge complainer, she's so bold about it too ! if you're spending any extra time with someone she'll get all dramatic about it and ask when you guys' wedding is and if she can be the maid of honor because shes petty.

can and will make things a competition if that means she'll get the chance to show off to you. some guy your age is impressive at target practice? she'll make an effort to double what he did just to say she can.

"i guess I've just had more experience." meanwhile she knew exactly what she was doing.

getting praise from you is like her main goal, anytime you let her know you're proud of her she feels like the most capable person on earth. on the other side of that is her absolutely debilitating jealousy when it comes to hearing you brag on other people. ellie doesn't pride herself on being nice but she gets pretty mean when she feels like you're giving attention she should be getting to others. you mention how well jesse did on his patrol and all of the sudden she's going on about how she's killed more infected as a kid than jesse could even imagine seeing.

oppositely, shes so sweet to you when you're feeling down, always making sure you know no one's allowed to mess with you (other than her) and if someone had she'd set things straight.

when you're feeling bad, or you're sick she likes to watch you sleep because you look peaceful and its ideal for her to see her girl safe nd happy.

strokes your hands and face while you're asleep, careful not to wake you. she's so infatuated and isn't quite sure how to handle it yet but for now she's able to roll with just being your person.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie tlou2 #ellie fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie tlou fanfic #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams x female reader #tlou fic #ellie the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #ellie x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader

[hashtagloveloses]

im still kind of in disbelief that that the internet like...turned on lore olympus. i get the whole "once something is popular people make it their personality to hate something", and the "incredibly online people make age gap discourse about immortal gods bc they need to touch grass," and you're certainly not obligated to like it, it's not everyone's cup of tea, but like. it is a genuinely good comic. its issues are no worse than like, most serialized web comics that have to struggle with the medium, and its art style is engaging and interesting, and has improved a lot over time. i know there was a very t*rf-led movement on here a LONG time ago starting discourse about greek myths to get crypto t*rf shit about femininity across and i know thats where some critiques come from. and it's weird that many criticisms of "modern retellings" get blamed on lore olympus bc it doesnt actually follow them - like, demeter isnt some crazy bitch, she's a character with complexity and depth.

yes the original intent of the story is changed, a story that women in ancient times could relate to about the fears of marriage, but LO actually does what modern retellings of old stories do best - modify a story to serve a similar purpose, but reflecting the modern audience's contemporary issues. in this case, embracing the complexities of love and marriage as a survivor of sexual assault, something many modern women struggle with. persephone's relationship with demeter ALSO reflects a very real struggle many modern young women have, of finding identity and sexual agency as an adult when your entire life has been controlled by a helicopter mother, even with the best intentions, and with her own trauma.

i also find the criticisms of the body types and sexuality often misogynistic and weird - people want things with a distinct, interesting style, they want women with sexual agency to be promoted and not sanitized, and yet LO gets over-criticized. how persephone dresses, how the other gods dress, changes a lot depending on level of confidence, mood, etc, and is a part of the storytelling in an interesting way. you don't have to like it, and i know there's jokes about the LO art style of drawing women, but i have a body like some of those bodies. i know other people who do, or at least similarly. it's not like a lot of comics or manga or anime where everyone is a stick, and they get to be sexy! it's nice!

and when people complain that its the only webcomic people read well then thats a YOU problem. i read a LOT of webcomics. i talk about them to people, i recommend them. romantic and otherwise. do you? do you spend as much time complaining about lore olympus as you do talking up other cool webcomics that deserve attention?

#original post #lore olympus #this is a rant ive been meaning to post for a while

[the-writer-arrived]

In Sickness and In Health

Synopsis: how does your lover act when you're sick?

Characters: alhaitham; wriothesley.

Warnings: gender neutral!reader; established relationship (marriage); pre-4.1 release so wrio may be ooc; wrio is a duke, so i think he'll have a mansion and people working for him like navia and diluc have (servants? retainers? idk); wriothesley is portrayed to be a bit overprotective, but that's just his alpha wolf side talking lol.

A/N: this will be very self insert of me bc i'm sick and want my two husbands to take care of me :( also we can finally hear wrio speak!!! i melted at his first words <3 AND HIS THEME SONG??? ABSOLUTELY FIRE!!!!

(p.s: today may be my birthday, but this is a gift from me to you all <3 thank you so much for all the support and love <3 feel free to drop an ask, brainrots or just fangirl over the new genshin characters :D)

"I told--"

"Not another word."

You know exactly what Alhaitham is going to say and you really do not want to hear it right now.

The glare you send his way would be """intimidating""" to your lover (no, it wouldn't), if it weren't for the fact that you're buried under the covers, making you look like a burrito (a verycute one, in his opinion).

You see, there was a sudden shift in Sumeru's weather: the week began so very hot, even during the night, but then the temperature dropped and became chilly and rainy out of a sudden.

Alhaitham had told you to take an umbrella and you did have it with you! But it was just a few droplets of rain when you left work, so you didn't bother to use it, thinking there wouldn't be any consequences.

...Well, you felt the consequences when you woke up this morning with a sore throat and a stuffy nose.

Luckily for you, your husband, who's trying really hard to not say 'I told you so', doesn't have work today and can spend the day taking care of you.

Wether he really doesn't have to go to the Akademiya today or has decided that himself, you're not completely sure.

Alhaitham doesn't loom over you nor follow your shadow 24/7 asking you if you need anything.

He lets you do your thing, since you simply have mild symptoms of a cold, but checks on you from time to time, reminding you the right time to take your medicine, drink water and rest.

Of course, if he catches you overworking your body, Alhaitham will gently but firmly drag you to bed or the nearest couch, going as far as carrying you in his arms, if you refuse to concede.

When he asks you what you want for dinner, you jokingly say you want a soup, knowing that your lover isn't the biggest fan that kind of dish.

To your surprise, however, you wake up from your nap with a delicious smell in the air (which is a sign that your nose isn't as stuffy anymore) and find your husband taste-testing the soup he has prepared for you.

"You misunderstand." He says, after you question him about his dislike of the dish. "I don't hate soup, I just find it inconvenient to drink it while I am reading. Now, come eat dinner, I'll feed you."

You laugh, thinking Alhaitham is joking about feeding you.

...Jokes on you, he isn't. And if you continue to resist, he will make you sit on his lap while he feeds you. You obey, fearing you might get a fever from embarrassment.

When it's time to go to sleep, you offer to sleep in the guest room to avoid having him catch your cold.

"My immune system isn't weak, I don't get sick so easily like you."

You feel somewhat offended, more by the fact that you can't deny that, rather than by the words themselves.

Even if what Alhaitham says is true, you don't want to risk it, so the solution you come up with is: spooning!

...But with him as the little spoon.

It is quite an amusing sight, really. You look like you're hugging a giang body pillow by the way you're snuggling your face on the back of your lover's neck. He's glad you can't see his face while he tries not to show that action of yours tickles him.

Feeling that your breath has slowed down and you are asleep, Alhaitham turns around to face you, staring at your peaceful expression. You look much better now than in the morning, which he's glad he took the day off to take care of you.

He gives you a kiss on the forehead, before closing his eyes and allowing sleep to come to him.

'How troublesome.' He thinks.

'But, since it's you, it's always worth the trouble.'

"But, Wrio--"

"Absolutely not, you are to stay in bed while I call a doctor."

You huff, looking away when Wriothesley continues to frown at your sniffing figure.

Fontaine's weather has been crazy lately. One day, the heat is almost sweltering; in the next, it's cloudy and rainy for days. Only those with strong health can endure these drastic changes. Unfortunately, you are not one of those people.

Yesterday's weather wasn't exactly cold, but it was raining the whole day. You didn't have work, but still had one last errand to run.

Yes, you could let the workers of Wriothesley's mansion do that. Would you actually do that? Of course not <3

It was becoming late, afternoon quickly ending and you were starting to feel antsy. You looked at the window and didn't see the droplets hitting the glass, which makes you believe the rain had stopped momentarily. No way you would let that opportunity slip by, right??

Hah, sike!

The moment you step outside, you realize that no, the rain hadn't stopped and you were foolish enough to not grab an umbrella on the way out.

The smart thing to do was to turn back and grab it, right? Yes. That's what you did, right? Nope :D 'Too much work' was what you thought as you stepped onto the streets.

...It doesn't take a genius to know what happened then. No umbrella + very cold rain hitting your skin = sickness!

And it didn't even take long for symptons to appear. Goosebumps, runny nose, cold sweating, sore throat... Although things weren't looking serious, you looked for medicine to keep those symptons under control.

Also, your husband has been very busy with dealing with the Fortress of Meropide and coming home late, you shouldn't add more to his plate by making him worries about a simple cold... At least, that was your plan.

What you didn't count on was to have a fever in the early morning, which is what brought you to the current situation.

For outsiders, Wriothesley seems quite angry at you. However, the truth is that he's angry at himself.

He hasn't been able to spend much time with you lately, having to be up at the crack of dawn and come back home late into the night. As lovely as your sleeping face is, he misses your smile, your laughter and overall misses being by your side.

And now, you've fallen sick and he can't even stay to take care of you. Who wouldn't be upset in his place?

Your husband's tense shoulders relax by a fraction when the doctor tells him you're just with a cold, but he still tells the people of the mansion to take care of your evey need and not let you lift a finger.

The workers think it's a bit of an overreaction on their lord's part, but they know it comes from a place of deep care and affection for you, his lovely spouse.

Still, they are a bit more lenient after Wriothesley leaves for the Fortress, allowing you to get up from bed and do things on your own, but someone is quickly by your side when fatigue wears you down.

Another order the servants received from him is to send him frequent reports about your well-being throughout the day, which... quickly gets tiring...

Thankfully, you decide to take that task to yourself and turn the reports into a exchange of short letters to one another.

I sure hope this is by a (mechanical?) messenger pigeon or else, poor servant running through Fontaine LOL

For the first time in weeks, Wriothesley comes back to the mansion at a reasonable hour! Past dinner time, but oh well, he worked really hard to finish every task in record time just to go back to his spouse.

"What are you doing up and about? You should be resting, my love." He says, after you appeared to greet him like a puppy running to his owner.

"Darling, please, I already spent way too much time in bed. I'm not bedridden, for celestia's sake!"

After a much needed couple quality time, it is time to go to sleep... which brings a problem to your husband's mind.

Considering that he owns a cryo vision, his body is a bit colder than normal, so that may make you--

"I know what you are thinking and you are NOT going to sleep elsewhere. You are to sleep by my side and that's final."

Wriothesley, the famous Administrator of the Fortress of Meropide, the man who can maintain peace in that place by using his words or his fists, will always give up on doing or saying whatever that he had planned and concede to the words of his spouse. Especially when they use that particular tone that leaves no room for negotiations.

Still, it is true that your man's body temperature is a bit on the colder side due to his powers, but that will NOT get in the way of your cuddling.

You wrap yourself with the warmest blankets you have, looking like the most adorable burrito he has ever had the pleasure to love, before worming your way into his strong arms.

Wriothesley huffs a chuckle and holds you protectively to his chest. He has a good health, so he's not worried about getting sick.

"...Is it irresponsable of me to think it wouldn't be that bad to catch your cold?" He quietly asks, not expecting an answer while looking at your sleeping face.

"Heh, I can almost hear you scolding me for wishing for such things." He gives you a kiss on the top of your head. "Rest well, my love."

thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3

heart divider made by @/cafekitsune

pink alhaitham and wriothesley banners (fluff) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly ;)

#blue.writes: genshin impact #blue.writes: alhaitham #blue.writes: wriothesley #blue.writes: fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #wriothesley x reader

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Selfless hero gets kidnapped and tortured, and the first thought that comes to their mind is “is this punishment for all the things I’ve done..?” even though the worst thing they’ve ever done was something along the lines of beating up a villain for slaughtering dozens of civilians

Then enter their villain love interest who rescues them and showers them with comfort and warmth and hero doesn’t know what to do or how to react since they’ve always been the one to care for others, not being the one being CARED OF by others 💔 (also bc it’s supposed to be their nemesis, so they’re like “why tf are they saving me rn”)

You reap what you sow.

The hero stared at their broken fingers through their blurred vision. Their hands were shaking. Their throat hurt. The rain was cold and uncomfortable as it seeped through their torn clothes.

For the first time, they felt like a child again, getting bullied and beaten up at school. All of it had been so quick. They'd been kidnapped and tortured. They'd been thrown into an alley. But despite the broken bones and the open wounds, the fear was worse. They had slipped back into that terrified kid who couldn't even raise their hand in school.

They knew they deserved it. They deserved all of this. Violence only answered violence and they had beaten up enough people to be a criminal themselves.

When they saw the headlights, the hero closed their eyes laboriously. Would running over by a car be a painless way to die? They could tell bleeding out wasn't their biggest problem. It was the cold.

The driver's door opened and at first, the hero couldn't even tell that it was the villain who was approaching them.

"Shit..." the villain cursed. They didn't look amused.

Although the hero couldn't believe the villain was here to save them, they prayed in secret that it was true.

When the villain was close enough, they kneeled next to them.

"What happened?" Their eyes had dark circles under them and as the rain soaked through the villain's perfect hair, the hero understood that they truly weren't here to kill them.

The villain's hand found the hero's forearm.

"Talk to me, what happened?"

"I don't know, I really don't-" Suddenly, the hero's throat closed and the tears followed promptly. Their nose was running and anew, they were teleported back in time. So many times, they had blamed themselves for the abuse, they had protected their abusers and now, they could feel themselves do the same thing all over again. "I messed up."

"You went missing for two days," the villain said.

"What!? No, that can't be true. I was gone for a few hours, I swear." The hero felt more pain crawl up their throat. How on earth were they going to explain that to their boss? "Shit, what am I doing?! I have to go home."

They tried to pull themselves up and stand but their ankles had been smashed with a pipe. That they could remember. Embarrassingly, the hero struggled and almost fell to the ground again.

"Alright," the villain said calmly and before the hero could say anything, they picked them up as if the hero didn't weigh anything at all. "That's enough."

At first, the hero wanted to protest. But they didn't have the energy to fight nor did they think it would get them anywhere. The villain was warm and gentle, their hands were soft and their voice was calm. The hero knew this was dangerous. They were walking into a trap, into a comfortable and safe trap.

The villain was probably waiting for the right moment to end them.

However, when the villain put them on the backseat, they weren't sure what to expect. Although it was a big car, it was surely not designed to fit two people on top of each other in the back.

"What are you doing?" the hero asked. They were getting tired. "Why are you helping me?"

"Remember that time you pulled me out of the river?"

"Oh."

"Yeah," the villain said. They took off their coat and put the coat on the hero, attempting to cover them. "Now, let's start over. What happened?"

"I told you, I messed up..."

"I don't believe that. Please, in your own time." They held onto the driver's seat and reached for all the buttons in the front. Suddenly, the car got warmer and the hero grabbed the villain's hand. Their broken fingers didn't want to cooperate but at this point, the hero cared little for the pain. The villain turned again and all of their attention seemed to be on the hero.

"I got kidnapped and then tortured; I thought I was going to die there. I was so scared. I froze and I didn't put up a fight. I couldn't..."

"Okay," the villain said. Their eyes didn't leave the hero's face and the hero almost thought they had said something wrong. "Easy..."

The villain gently rubbed the hero's thigh.

"You're safe now, okay?"

The hero nodded.

"It was bound to happen. You reap what you sow. I am not a good person and I was selfish, I-"

"No," the villain said. "Don't do this to yourself. You didn't do anything wrong."

The hero could feel the tears again. God, they were such a mess today. They couldn't hold back anymore.

"Please," the hero whispered. "What are you doing to me?"

"I'm bringing you home," the villain said. The hero's hand was still around theirs.

"No, what are you doing to me? What are you doing to my brain? Why are you so nice? Why do you care?" At this point, they were exhausted. Exhausted from crying, exhausted from the pain. The hero craved a long hot bath but the villain so close to them came pretty close to that.

"Someone has to, don't you think?" Something in their expression told the hero this wasn't the whole truth. "We have to go now, okay? You seriously need some medical attention."

Their gaze lingered on the hero for a little bit longer before they got into the driver's seat.

#I PUT THE COAT ON HER11! #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #heroxvillain #hero x villain #request #an answer for an ask #h/c #whump #kinda?

[exhaslo]

Hello exhaslo! I was wondering if you could write something for me🥺

I had this idea in my head for a while. ( Don't mind my English, it's my second language-) Soo can you write about Psycho Miguelx shyreader? I want to see miguel stalk reader, obsessed over reader, steal her clothes or panties for "whatever" purpose.. watching her sleep like a psycho- you know-

Until one point he kidnap and locked her up. Torture her but he still love her like a crazy obsession (dark scene maybe). He would try to be good to her (like try to bath and feed her) but she's just doesn't cooperate and miguel piss off easily.

If you do write it pls tag mee? This is my first ever request in thumbler. (I don't know how this app works) 🕴️

Hello! Hello!! Gotta love me some crazy Miguel. I'd feel like after a while a shy reader would give into the psycho bc they'd be too scared to escape. Maybe like Stockholm Syndrome?

I believe you will already receive a notification since I'm replying to your request, not quite sure how it works either, haha.

Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, stalking, kidnapping, p in v, Stockholm syndrome, abuse, will try and make this as not concerning as possible, but if you remotely are not comfortable with any of these topics then I highly suggest avoiding

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

Spiderman is a hero! Spiderman does nothing wrong! Spiderman will help the citizens of Nueva York! Spiderman! Spiderman! Spiderman!

"Silence." Miguel hissed lowly.

It was a quiet night aside from the constant voices that reminded Miguel of his responsibility. The annoyance that he had to burden himself with and live to those standards. So many people treated him like a God. Everyone worshiped him, but none of them were willing to give him what he wanted.

At least, until you came along.

Miguel sat against a building, watching you leave work. It was only a short while ago that you started to work for Alchemax. You were a ray of sunshine in Miguel's life. He had to have you for himself. A beautiful, shy angel who just moved into the city.

His angel.

Miguel had already approached you at work, revealing to be the kind coworker to help you with anything. He wanted to start off well, at least the side that he was going to show you. Afterwards, he was going to find out everything about you as Spiderman.

"She lives so close to me," Miguel whispered, watching you enter a building.

His eyes sparkled as he followed your sweet scent up the floors. Once you stopped and entered your apartment, Miguel nearly groaned at the sight. He watched from the window as you stripped and prepared for a shower. Such a clueless beauty.

"She left her window unlocked for me," He whispered, entering your apartment.

You were humming quietly to yourself as you showered. Such a soft and low voice that should only be for him. Miguel would listen to you forever, but he didn't want you to catch onto him, yet. Grabbing your panties, Miguel inhaled towards you scent, groaning lowly.

"H-H-Hello?! I-Is...Is anyone there?!" You squeaked, turning the water off.

Miguel cussed to himself, quickly fleeing the scene. He stuffed your panties in his pocket and watched as you hesitantly stepped out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel and a bottle of shampoo. How cute. Like that was going to stop him.

"P-Please...I-If anyone is...is there...I-I don't have anything." You cried, shaking in fear.

Miguel resisted a chuckle. You had everything. You were everything. Miguel was going to have you for himself. He just needed to wait for the right time.

-------

"I-It was so scary! I-I really thought someone broke in!" You cried your eyes out at work towards Miguel.

"Don't cry, amor (love)." Miguel whispered, wiping your tears away with his thumb. You sniffed, staring at your wonderful coworker,

"S-Sorry...I...I just...I didn't expect this...I'm new to the city...and...and I just..." You felt your lips quiver as you tried to think, "A-Also, my underwear disappeared...m-maybe my apartment is haunted!"

"I'm sure you just misplaced them," Miguel lied knowing full well that your panties were now covered in his cum, "It could be the stress of moving to a large city. It will take some time to...adapt," He whispered, patting your head.

You rubbed your eyes, smiling brightly towards Miguel. He was just a nice coworker and good looking too. You were happy to have gotten close to him during your stay here. Thanking Miguel again for letting you vent, you pecked his cheek before hurrying off to work.

Miguel just smiled wickedly as he watched your scurry off. Those hips of yours just begging to be grabbed by him. Your soft voice just waiting to cry his name out. Miguel needed more of you. He had to have more of you.

---------

There he was again, outside your window, watching you walk around your place half naked. Oh, how tempting you were. His shy little angel just walking around in nothing but your panties. You were just asking him to go in there and fuck you.

Miguel decided to leave your clothes alone today, for he had something else in plan. He waited for you to fall into a deep slumber before entering the apartment. His eyes sparkled brightly as he saw you clearly in the dark.

"Oh, my lovely (Y/N)," Miguel whispered, stroking your naked body, "I know you must be dreaming of me,"

"Mhm~" You shifted slightly in your sleep.

Miguel hummed quietly as he started to stroke his dick beside your bed. He wanted to touch you, but he was afraid of waking you. Miguel had to be patient. Resisting a moan, Miguel kept pumping his dick to the sight of you sleeping. Oh how he wanted to see you wrapped around him.

"Fuck," Miguel whispered as he cummed over your body.

He sighed softly in relief before cleaning you up. He didn't want you getting anymore scared and locking your windows. Once you were cleaned, Miguel swiped the panties you were wearing and left to finish relieving himself at home.

---------

"I-I don't know what to...to do. I-I've never been asked out before," You whispered, hiding in Miguel's lab.

It had been another week of your panties going missing and you were officially scared. The last two nights you had stayed at a coworker's place, wanting to sleep easy. This made Miguel angry. He couldn't find you and now someone had the nerve to confess to you?

"M-Miguel? A-Are you okay? I...I can come ba-"

"I'm fine, just haven't slept well these past two nights." He told you. You slowly approached him, stroking the bags under his eyes,

"Oh, Miggy. I'm sorry! I-I've been ranting this whole time while y-you're this tired!" You whined softly. Miguel grabbed your hands, kissing them softly,

"Dios Mio (My god), you make me want to steal you away, (Y/N)." Miguel whispered, watching you grow flustered, "Will you let me do that?"

You squeaked, feeling your cheeks grow hot. Honestly, you weren't expecting that from Miguel. Yes, you liked him a lot, but this was straight up flirting. Trying to hide your face from embarrassment, you just smiled, wanting to play along.

"S-Sure," You said sweetly.

--------

You whimpered lowly as you slowly felt yourself come to your senses. You vaguely recalled what happened before you lost consciousness. It was time for you to clock out and you saw Miguel waiting for you. He offered you a ride and then you knocked out.

Rubbing your eyes, you looked around and noticed that you were in an unfamiliar bedroom. Tears started to form as your heart raced in fear. Even your clothes were changed. You were wearing a long night gown.

"M-Miguel...A-Are you there?" You cried softly.

Crawling off the bed, you gasped as you felt something tied to your foot. You whimpered, spotting the cozy chains that held your ankles in place with a long chain connected to the bed.

"(Y/N), you're awake." Miguel hummed as he entered the room with a tray of food, "I brought you dinner."

"M-Miguel...I-I'm scared..."

"Shh, it's okay, baby. I know, but it's all going to be okay now. You did give me permission to take you away after all." He said with a sadistic smirk. You trembled slightly,

"I-I thought...y-you were just...just flirting..." You tried your best not to cry, "M-Miggy, p-please...I'm scared."

"I'm going to take good care of you, (Y/N)"

Miguel placed the tray to the side and crawled onto the bed. He pulled you closer to him and captured your lips into a forceful and deep kiss. You were shaking as you tried to push him away, but he was too strong for you.

You whimpered as Miguel's tongue ravished the inside of your mouth. His hands holding your wrists in place as his body pinned you to the bed. You were terrified. The man you thought who cared for you was a psychopath.

"You taste just as sweet as your panties," Miguel whispered, pulling you onto his lap and grabbed the tray.

"W-Wait...y-you took...h-how?"

"Ah, since you're going to be my wife, I suppose you should know. I'm Spiderman. I've been watching you, making sure no harm came to my beautiful wife,"

"H-Huh!?"

Your face turned bright red at the thought. This whole time it was Miguel who snuck into your place and stole your underwear. Now, he had stolen you. Trying to free yourself, you whimpered as Miguel forced you back into his lap. You cried, feeling his bulge press into your ass.

"Don't cry, eat. You need your energy."

"N-No! I want...I want to go home!"

"You are home!" Miguel yelled.

Sighing heavily, Miguel watched as you shook in fear and covered your ears. He moved the tray away and turned you around to face him. He wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head in the crook of your neck. You were crying. Shaking in his arms.

"I won't ever hurt you, (Y/N). I promise to take care of you." He whispered.

--------

It had been a week since you were held hostage by Miguel. Each day he brought more of your stuff to his place, wanting you to feel comfortable. You couldn't forgive him though, but you were too scared to disobey him.

You poked your head out of your room, spotting the front door open. Miguel had placed an ankle bracelet on you, but that couldn't stop you from trying to escape and getting someone to break the device. You just needed to be fast.

Hurrying towards the door, you yelped as you got yanked back. You cried as webs locked your arms behind your back. Miguel approached you, bending you over the living room table,

"Oh, (Y/N), why are you trying to leave?" He asked, pretending to sound hurt.

"M-Miguel...I...I..." You knew better than to lie.

"I'm going to have to give you a punishment."

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you felt Miguel tear your panties off. You begged him to forgive you, but Miguel had already started to grope your ass. You trembled and whimpered as you felt his fingers rub your folds.

"I know you love me, (Y/N), you're just confused right now." Miguel whispered in your ear as he started to pump his fingers into your pussy.

You gasped and whimpered, trying to distract your brain. Miguel's thick fingers were stretching your pussy out, making your body grow hotter with each pump. You cried out a moan as his fingers curled and rubbed your gummy walls.

"See, look how wet you are. Just stop trying to lie to yourself."

"M-Miguel," You whimpered, your face pressed against the table, "I-I'm scared."

"Shh, you'll feel so much better after this. Honestly, it isn't even a punishment, baby."

Miguel chuckled darkly as he pumped his fingers faster into you. Your juices spilling against his fingers and onto the table. You cried, arching you back as you cam against his fingers. Miguel hummed to the sound of your moans and your throbbing pussy.

"Good girl,"

You panted heavily, shaking from your high. You yelped as you felt Miguel grab your hips and something thick poke your hole. You tried to raise your head, but Miguel pushed you back down. He lifted your hips and shoved his dick inside you.

"Ah! M-Miguel! S-Stop!" You cried, taken back from the pain.

Miguel slapped your ass as he pounded your poor cunt. Groans and moans escaped his throat as he finally enjoyed the feeling of his dick inside you. Your tight gummy walls sucking him in so much. The sounds of your bodies slapping against each other. Everything about his moment made him horny.

"Fuck, (Y/N), I've been waiting for this. You feel so fucking good. Your pussy just loves my dick. You're doing so good." He rambled, slapping his hips into yours harsher.

"A-Ah~ M-Mig~ W-Wait...I-I'm d-dizzy~" You moaned out.

"You're doing so well, baby. Just relax for me,"

You whimpered lowly as you felt your mind grow hazy. His dick was thrusting so deep inside you that you swore his tip kissed your cervix. Your body shook and trembled as it grew hotter. Another knot forming as you felt the pain turn into pleasure.

"Mhm~ M-Miggy~" You cried out, feeling your orgasm approaching.

You wanted to hate this. You wanted to, but you couldn't deny that deep down before he kidnaped you, you wanted this. Before Miguel showed his true colors, you liked him a lot. You weren't sure if it was your past emotions and feelings, but you were giving into him.

"Good girl, such a fucking good girl," Miguel groaned as you cam against his dick, "See? Already used to me."

Miguel inhaled to the sound of your moans and sobs. He grunted as he slapped his dick deeper into you, filling your womb. He let out a sigh of relief before removing the webbing from your hands. He flipped you over, enjoying your fucked out expression.

"I'm not done with you, baby. I'm going to show you how much I love you."

--------

It had been a year since Miguel kidnapped you. You weren't sure when, but eventually you gave in to him. Miguel was only trying to protect you after all. You were just being unreasonable. He loved you so much and you finally shared that love.

"M-Miguel, W-Welcome home...I...I made you dinner." You whispered shyly, gripping the bottom of your new night gown he bought you.

"(Y/N), how was my beautiful wife today?" Miguel hummed, taking off his mask and picking you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist,

"I missed you," You whispered, kissing him sweetly, "Miggy, can you stay home tomorrow? I...I'm a little lonely."

"Of course. I know just how to spend the day tomorrow."

Miguel smirked as you cheered, hugging him. He stole your lips in a passionate kiss, enjoying your submissiveness. It took some time, but he was glad that you finally saw what he was trying to do. Miguel knew that you loved him.

You were just too shy to admit it yet.

"Why don't we start tomorrow's plan now?"

You squeaked, covering your face as Miguel tore your panties again. Miguel chuckled lowly as he spent no time abusing your cunt with his dick. He was going to make sure that you weren't lonely anymore. What better way than to impregnate you?

"C'mon baby, tell me what you want." Miguel hummed as he slapped his hips into yours.

"Y-You! M-Miguel, I want you!!"

"That's right. You're mine."

And Miguel was never going to let you go.

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

Haha, kind of got a little worried with how dark I was going to make this. I hope this met your expectations!!

#miguel o'hara smut #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel ohara smut #dark miguel o'hara

[lycheedr3ams]

Congratulations on your account growth!! <33 (─‿‿─)♡

I followed you for that König story you wrote and I've been eating your works since then; truly, I loved your writing at first glance. Looking forward to future account growths!

Request: territorial!König x Gn!Reader •v• The rumor of Reader being the barracks bunny is false, obviously, but still, word got around. The rumors reached the highly respected and feared colonel König who confronted Reader and maybe...left a mark on them to show everyone who they belong to. Who they only belong to. Fluff/angst is fine, dom!König, so he's rough+degradation.

Everything else is up to you and please feel free to adjust or change anything to your liking! I just adore a territorial König story(⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

Thank you for your support!!!!!! You are so sweet

I love this ask!!! I love me a territorial, possessive man.... I have changed a few things tho. Personally, I think that colonel konig screenshot we all saw was fake info in the sense that the devs keep changing Kpnig's lore and stuff. I don't think he'd be able to be a colonel bc of his social anxiety, and his gear is just shit he put together. Besides, I lowkey like loser perv konig who isn't a colonel lol

I also made it she/her fem reader, i just don't relate to GN reader enough to write for it. I hope you still like it!!! also this turned out to be a lot longer than i had planned lol

...

Barracks Bunny

fem!reader x territorial!dom!konig

MDNI

Warnings: harddom!konig, degradation, rough sex, possessiveness, p in v sex, rumors going around about reader, territorialness (not a word but whatever), semi-public sex, slight humiliation, biting, not proofread

you had spent some time with konig since you first met him, and he eventually invited you to his room. you didn't care who saw you follow him to his room in the barracks, you just knew you needed him and his cock. the first time you both had sex, it was the best you ever had. his grunts flooded your ears as he took you from behind, pressing you down into the mattress with his hand on your middle back.

"arch for me, just like that," he praised. he couldn't get enough of your moans and the way your wet pussy perfectly sucked him in. he wanted to cum inside you so badly, but you told him no.

after that, you two had sex with each other at least three times a week when he was on base. some people who lived in that wing saw you entering and leaving his room, always looking a bit more disheveled than when you entered. but there were others who didn't see you leaving konig's room specifically, and their minds were left to wonder who the lucky guy was that night.

...

you had noticed that a lot of the men around base had been looking at you in a much more...predatory way when you walked around. sometimes, they would whisper as you walked past. you chalked it up to immaturity and harmless crushes, but you learned it was so much more than that when konig shoved you against his wall one night right as you stepped into his room.

"you told me I was the only one!" he whisper-yelled at you. his eyes glowed almost red from inside his hood.

"what are you talking about??"

"do you really not know?" he asked a bit more quiet this time. you shook your head, your eyes wide. konig sighed.

"they say you are the 'barracks bunny'. you know what that means, ja?"

your eyes widened and your heart sunk. so that's why everyone was looking at you like that? You looked up at konig, scared, and his eyes slightly softened at your expression.

"konig...I don't know why they'd say that. i've only been sleeping with you, i swear."

he stared into your soul for the next few moments, mulling over in his head if he should believe you or not. he leaned down and his breath ghosted your neck through his hood.

"you are mine" he growled. you couldn't help the way you shivered as his words went straight to your core. "and i'm going to prove that to every man on base, right now."

"wha-" before you knew what was happening, konig picked you up roughly and threw you onto his bed. you had never seen the way he was looking at you now: with eyes that could kill a thousand men. you weren't sure if the growl you barely heard was real or your imagination.

"strip," he commanded.

"konig, what do you mean you're -"

"don't make me repeat myself," his sentence clipped and precise. you gulped, and undressed yourself on his bed until you were bare before him, and your clothes were just a pile on the floor. you looked up at him with wide eyes. he slowly backed away, still looking at you, as he slowly turned the knob to his door and cracked it open a tiny bit. light from the hallway was streaming in through a little rectangle onto the wall. thankfully, the open space was facing the wall rather than you.

"konig, what're you doing?"

he rested one knee on his bed as he leaned down and looked at you. he was still in his camos and tight black shirt, just the way you liked it.

"showing these men who you really belong to."

he quickly pinned you underneath him and smashed his lips against yours, barely pulling his hood up all the way. it was so rushed that his hood got in the way of the kiss, and he angrily yanked it aside so that he could completely feel your lips. he bit your lip harshly, and you mewled.

"that's it," he praised as he licked your lip. "keep making those sounds. let every man here know who's making you feel this way."

he began to kiss your neck, feigning innocence, before he bit hardly on the space where your neck met your shoulder. you yelped louder this time, not prepared for the sting of his canines in your soft flesh. he laughed and bit you again.

"konig!!" you said loudly, not caring who heard you at the moment. "that hurt!"

he laughed darkly. "oh, my poor barrack bunny. you think i'm gonna go easy on you tonight?" he mocked. "nein," he growled in your ear. "i'm going to fuck you so hard that the only thing you remember is my name."

he pawed at your breasts hungrily, like they were his lifeline, like they were the last thing he would ever touch. you couldn't help but glance over at the sliver of light against the wall dimming every so often as soldiers walked by. you moaned loudly when konig sucked on your nipple. his siege on your boobs was relentless, his teeth teasing your sensitive nipple.

"seems you like this, ja?" he teased. "already so loud, and i haven't even fucked you yet."

he next went straight for your pussy. he spread you open wide by underneath of your knees, and didn't let you catch your breath before he attached his mouth to your wet cunt. he purposely slurped and sucked louder than he ever had, and you were already almost screaming. you slapped your hand over your mouth to keep you from being too loud as you saw people's shadows walking by.

konig roughly grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head.

"if you do that, i'm going to have to keep your arms restrained, ja?" he warned. "no hiding your sounds."

all you could do was nod as he squeezed your wrists. when you agreed, he went back to devouring your pussy. you listened to him this time, and you were nearly screaming with how hard he made you cum. the little beam of light from the hallway was dimmed for a while that time as soldiers stopped to listen.

konig sat up and unbuckled his belt in a rush, his fingers fumbling with the buckle as his cock threatened to rip through his pants. he pulled his pants and boxers down slightly with a hiss as his cock sprang free. it was completely erect, and slightly red at the tip already. he looked up at you darkly before he spread you wide again and shoved it all the way in without warning.

"KONIG!" you screamed. he grunted loudly before slowly thrusting into you, giving you a chance to get used to him for a moment. his huge body was blocking you from seeing if anyone was listening just outside the door. you tried to peek your head around him, when he punished you with a particularly hard thrust.

"no looking," he growled as he slammed into you again. "you just focus on me."

your face scrunched up in a mix of pleasure and pain as konig slammed into you again and again and again. his balls slapped against your ass loudly with each thrust, and your pussy was soaked. you threw your head back as he finally set a steady pace of punishing thrusts straight up to your cervix. it only took five thrusts for you to start nearly screaming.

"that's it," konig gasped as he pounded you. "let everyone hear you."

your pussy clenched at his words, and he laughed.

"oh, the barrack bunny likes that, doesn't she?" he teased. he leaned down, still pounding you, as he whispered in your ear. "they're listening right outside, you know. they can hear how well you take me. how hard i fuck you. let them hear. go on."

you clenched hard around him as you moaned and mewled and screamed. his pace got even faster, and the headboard began to bang against the wall. anyone walking by would definitely hear that. the sounds of the metal headboard hitting the wooden wall, your deep moans, and the slapping of skin on skin was so loud that it drowned out all thoughts.

you repeated konig's name like a mantra as he pounded you. he grunted. "see? i told you the only thing you'd be saying was my name."

suddenly, he came with a grunt, and you felt a wave of hot fill your cervix as his tip pressed against it and filled it to the point of overflowing. a ring of white formed around his cock as it twitched inside you.

that night, all the soldiers knew that you were certainly konig's, and only konig's, barrack bunny.

#cod mw2 #konig fic #konig smut #konig cod #konig imagine #call of duty mw2 #konig call of duty #konig x reader #konig #konig mw2 #konig modern warfare #ask #thanks for the ask! #konig x you #cod konig #konig fanfiction #konig fluff #konig headcanons #konig fanart #konig x y/n #cod fanfic #cod smut #könig cod #cod art #cod modern warfare #cod fanart #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare #mw2 #könig modern warfare

[thewitcheress2389]

Hello! If you feel like it, could you write something for Geralt x reader? Reader is touch starved and doesn't want to initiate affection, but Geralt catches on bc she relaxes when their shoulders brush or when he pats her shoulder. One day he's had enough of her being so uptight, so he holds her and she just goes boneless with relief.

I relate to this so much Anon, putting my own feelings in this one❤️😂 Hope you enjoy! Sorry if it's jumbled, I was in a state when I wrote this XD

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

A Witcher's Senses

You forget that a witcher has enhanced senses. Funny enough, Geralt doesn't really need them to figure out your problem.

Most men don't understand, but witchers are even more ignorant. They don't have the need to be held, the need to be touched. Not like a woman like you needs. And you don't just mean "touched" because not all touch is good. Some touch is selfish, uncomfortable, and lacking all mannerisms of a proper gentleman.

No. You want touch to be gentle, full of love.

Geralt was the only man that you could share this with-without his knowledge. Witchers weren't exactly ones for holding hands or exchanging hugs. The only affection they ever receive is from a one night stand that they paid for with their gold from a gruesome hunt. The closest you've ever been to Geralt with his knowledge is when you had to clean his wounds after a dicey encounter with a leshen or a werewolf.

But you needed more. You craved more from him.

"Y/N, can you tie up Roach." It was a command from Geralt, who wasn't looking at you as he handed you the leather reins. You eyed his hand, the way his fingers gently caressed the leather.

"Yeah." You said softly, reaching out to grab hold of the horse. And then, your fingers touched.

You lingered, lingered longer than expected. His skin was rough, but also very warm. You loved it, you loved the feeling that you haven't had in years. You didn't care that he was a witcher. He was still a man that had warm skin and a gentle aura about him. His touch made you relax. Softly, you began to smile to yourself.

"Y/N, Roach is getting anxious." Geralt's voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you realized that he had let go of the reins long ago, his touch gone. You blushed in embarrassment when he finally heard Roach pawing the ground.

Mumbling an apology, you led the mare to a nearby tree, Geralt's gaze following you the whole way.

He wasn't stupid.

Jaskier might call him uncaring, ignorant, and hardy but the witcher was actually quite the opposite. He had better sight, better hearing, and a better sense of smell than most men. But even with all that, he struggles to read people sometimes. You were shy, didn't say much to him, but your eyes held so much emotion. But you, you were more obvious than you probably wanted.

When you pretend to trip and bump into him, your heartrate softens.

When he pats your shoulder after a fearful encounter, your muscles relax.

When you grab something from him and your fingers touch, your eyes glow and you smile to yourself.

You longed for touch. You needed it, but you didn't want anyone to know that. You were scared to initiate contact, which Geralt sensed when you were just around him. Your quick breathing, nervousness, and raised heartrate. You were uneasy because you lacked the touch you craved, that only he seemed to be able to give you.

Now with the knowledge he had, Geralt was confused. Why did you seek him out?

He was a witcher, covered in scars and years of abuse. He didn't know what a soft touch felt like unless he paid for it. Geralt didn't know how to give you what you wanted, however, you seemed to know. You were pretty, so it shouldn't be hard for him. Despite all the negative things that Jaskier has said about him, he always has mentioned that Geralt has more of a heart than most witchers.

Perhaps Geralt just needs to find that heart and give it to you.

So, one night, he did.

You guys were sitting by the fire, Roach was grazing nearby, and Geralt just got done putting things away. He then moved to sit next to you. Close to you. Immediately, his senses picked up your beating heart and nervous sweat. You weren't the only one nervous. Geralt was too. However, he cared about you, he knew what you needed and how he could give it.

The witcher scooted closer and placed an arm around you, pulling you into his chest.

"Geralt?" Your voice was small, face extremely red. The witcher, however, was calm as he rubbed his calloused hand over your shoulder to soothe you.

"Shh...just relax." Geralt said and you did. It was like you melted at his warm touch. Every organ in your body immediately calmed down; your heartrate slowed, breathing slowed, and everything else just relaxed. You sighed pleasantly, finding yourself moving closer to him out of impulse.

"Why are you doing this?" You couldn't stop yourself from asking him, the warmth from both him and the fire easing you. The fire light flickered in his cat-like eyes as he swallowed nervously.

"Because I needed it. I needed your touch." He told you, smiling a bit. Relief seemed to fill in your eyes as you took in his words. Every time that you were afraid to initiate any form of contact was just your nerves getting the best of you. Geralt said he needed you, just like you needed him. You nuzzled your head into his shoulder.

However, Geralt said that to ease you, or that's what he thought.

But he found himself relaxing at your touch as well.

#the witcher #the witcher imagine #the witcher geralt #witcher geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt imagine

[butch-reidentified]

I've spoken before about psychopathy, particularly my own, and the importance of recent research and demolishing the stigma and absolutely absurd past conceptions and measures of psychopathy, which were exclusively based on studies of male prisoners convicted of violent crime.

Just to reiterate - psychopathy is not being deranged and uncontrollably violent. Villanelle from Killing Eve is actually an excellent and well-researched example of high-EQ female psychopathy, and the first fictional portrayal I can genuinely see myself in. Psychopaths with high EQ are entirely capable of cognitive empathy, and many (like myself) are actually very gifted in it, and can even make excellent counselors/therapists as a result of this combined with a lack of strong internal biases and the fact that we won't be emotionally impacted/drained by patients. This presentation of psychopathy is becoming more and more recognized and studied, and is distinctly more common in women. We retain the core defining traits, obviously - boldness, deviancy, disinhibition, very high fear threshold, a tendency toward meanness (self-control is a thing, though), reduced capacity for remorse and regret*, and of course lack of affective (emotional) empathy - but are much more able to moderate ourselves and prioritize social functioning, and tend to view the sadistic behavior of low-EQ psychopathic males as wasteful. My wife calls it "prosocial psychopathy."

Anyway, I just kind of wanted to touch on this again since it's been a while and there's a fair few new followers out here. I encourage you to read the above links and check the tag - it's a pretty interesting topic, to me at least.

Edit 4/25/2024: *Regarding the reduced capacity for remorse/regret: I firmly believe this sounds worse than it is. For people like me, at least, it's not that I'm going around doing terrible things and incapable of feeling bad about any of them. The truth is that remorse & regret most frequently occur as a result of intensely emotion-driven behaviors, which as a concept is largely foreign to me - I don't tend toward remorse/regret because the way I interact with the world, analyze situations, and choose to behave in response, is inherently from the very beginning done with the acceptance of potential consequences actively held in my mind. I'm not prone to regret/remorse because I know myself extremely well and make choices as consistent with my understanding of self as possible, having already prepared myself for the possibility that things could go wrong. It's more about being prepared for what might happen and able to cope when things do go wrong, rather than being a piece of shit and not feeling anything about it.

This doesn't make me better or worse than others; it's a neutral fact that male supremacy has made seem otherwise by constantly claiming that "logic" or whatever is superior to emotions. Fuck that. Loads of the best people I've ever known have been very emotion-driven (what non-shit people identify as a firm of being passionate) and some of the shittest people I've known would waste their dying breath insisting they're 100% logical creatures, as if that's even a real thing. To me it feels very simple: if I'm making the best (most internally consistent, most reflective of my personality and values, etc) decisions I possibly can with whatever information I have at the time, then I've done my best, acted with integrity, and don't need to regret my choices. This is very challenging to write/talk about bc of the stigma & connotations involved, but again, this is a completely neutral fact to me in the same way I describe being a woman as a completely neutral fact despite the stigma & connotations involved there. Does any of this make sense?

#mine #psychopathy #emotionality

[thebearer]

willow attempting to scare richie but when tho she poorly hid herself and he could see her he still acts like she’s the scariest

he's so good at it too.

fak actually might be better because he really goes there.

so one time, when teddy was a teeny toddler, she was going through a 'scaring' phase. she wasn't very good at it, thankfully, but she loved to 'scare' people.

she'd run ahead and hide around corners, and pop out at you or carmen or whoever, then die of laughter lol. it was honestly cute, and so you and carmen just let it happen bc it's cute? and she's little? and she's not hurting anyone- everyone knows when she's 'hiding' she's not very good at it lol.

anyways, so one day, at the restaurant she's helping richie and fak 'set up' and decides she's going to 'scare' them. she hides behind a booth, and richie's like grinning, looks at fak, "watch this." he mutters. "aye, neil, you see teddy anywhere?" real loud and dramatic, and they can hear her giggling.

fak blinks like ??? "yeah, richie, she-she's right ther-"

"-hey, don't be a jagoff, alright? what's the matter with you?" richie hisses, rolling his eyes. "neil, do me a favor and, uh, will you check behind that booth? make sure the tables good?" loud and dramatic again.

neil is so confused but walks over, right as he's turning, teddy jumps out with a "boo!" giggling and excited. richie gives a loud "oh! you gto me! you scared me, kid, where were you?" because he's richie. he's silly and a little dramatic.

neil on the other hand... he just blinks at her. "the tables fine, richie."

teddy's little face falls and she's pouty and it's no longer fun in there, so she goes to find carmen or you or tina or someone fun.

"the fucks the matter with you?" richie throws a hand up. "you tryna be a jerkoff? huh? you know that's cousin's kid? what? you got a problem with him? with her? because you know, neil geoff, that's my god daughter right there, and if we've got an issue you-"

"-no, no, no, no. what? richie? no." neil's backed up away from a furious richie.

"then why are you bein' a dickwad right now? why would you do that, huh?"

"i'm not being a dickwad!"

"you're definitely bein' a dickwad. teddy pretends to scare you, and you- you what? you're not gonna pretend to be scared? for a kid? your cousin's kid? c'mon you-"

"-richie, i could see her." fak scoffs. "she didn't scare me. i could see her the whole time."

richie just blinks at him because honestly he is at a loss for words. "you... you're a fucking moron."

"hey! you can't call me that-"

"-no i can and i will. what's the matter with you? of course you can see her. you think i couldn't? you pretend to be scared, you cazzone. play it up." richie huffs.

and neil takes that personally.

the next time teddy does it, neil wants to make up for the fact that he didn't give such a big reaction.

she hides, and when she jumps out, neil screams. like a final girl, horror movie kind of scream.

"teddy! you scared me! oh my god, oh my god! you scared the shi- i mean, you scared me!"

and he really thinks he's done a good job, and in a way he has.

except it scared the shit out of teddy this time.

she freezes, face falls in fear because he screamed really loud and scared her. everyone's there in a matter of seconds, scared by the scream.

"what? what's the matter? what happened?" carmen is panicking, even more so when teddy is sobbing towards him. "what's wrong? you alright? you alright? richie, what the- what happened?"

"you're a fucking moron." richie snarls, walking over to carmen.

"what? what did i do now? you told me to play it up! richie!" fak follows him, feeling guiltier than before.

he has a lot of time to practice. by the time willow comes around, he's perfected the in between of being realistically scared... to a toddler's standards lol. fak's actually pretty good at it by then, can really play it up to get her giggling and happy.

#thebearer #bearblahs #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto fluff #dad!carmen berzatto #dad!carmen berzatto x mom!reader #dorothea “teddy” berzatto #willow natalia berzatto #richie jerimovich #neil fak

[cinellieroll]

☆ random obey me headcanons part 4!

satan and diavolo ♡

part one (lucifer, mammon and simeon)

part two (asmodeus, levi and barbatos)

part three (beelzebub, belphegor and solomon)

small note: last part is here wooh! i apologize i wasn't able to add the others. i just didn't know what to put for theirs bc im big idiot. i might make some of them soon tho! i'll probably make aot headcanons next but there will be delays bc exams are next week 😔 i'll also plan on putting more characters in one post next time so stay tuned!

☆ satan:

- likes friv.com, y8 games and papa games.

- picked up the habit of meowing out of nowhere when he's bored or enters his room. only does it when he's alone ofcourse because no way he'll let others see him like this. (everyone knows he does it they just don't say anything)

- he really liked enola holmes and other movies where it has detectives. it just riles him up more and more and wishes a hard ass case will just appear in the devildom already so he'lll be first in the scene.

- don't get me started on how many times this man has tripped on his pile of books. he never really learned his lesson and just kept the books on the floor because he enjoys watching cats step on each one

- watches mat pat theories with you and levi. that's when he genuinely started gaining interest in games and sometimes fear he'll end up like levi one day.

- before he was able to manage his anger, he used to pull on his hair really hard. he'd have bald spots for years. thankfully he takes care of it now and it's perfectly luscious and soft.

- gets pissed when he sees people leaving pens uncapped like this is a waste of ink

- also gets pissed when his brothers leave the bathroom door open. he'll use his sleeve to cover his hand and close the door like a clean freak (i do the same thing)

- snores really loud when he sleeps on the couch. yes, the couch not his own bed. the couch.

☆ diavolo:

- he finds pleasure in buying a lot of unnecessary stuff. never learns from his lesson and just kept buying little trinkets and giving silly excuses for it.

- "but barbatos! doesn't this pig just look so cute on my office table? look! i even bought 300 packs of those tea leaves you ordered last time! isn't that great :D?"

- "my lord those tea leaves cost 100k grimm each-"

- he loves to spoil people so much it's so insane. you mentioned you like tanghulus? he ordered barbatos to make 20 of them. oh you really liked that furry coat made by a famous designer? he just bought you 5 pairs of it in different colors. your welcome.

- he likes onesies

- takes really long showers as well. he recently caught up to this thing called an "everything shower" and got invested. now he can't go on with his day without using body washes, oils and cleansers. a demon prince always has to be fresh and well maintained.

- he's always very excited to see you so when he rushes for a hug it's required to pick you up. who cares if he gets scolded by barbatos or receives a glare from belphie? you enjoy it and so does he!

- beautiful thick thighs and ass cheeks it makes me go what the fuck papi chulo

- enjoys the idea of cosplaying. doesn't care what he wears as long as gets to go out and dress up as a character. a dinosaur? sure! princess diavolo?! say less!

another note: we just reached 30 fucking followers hello??1!1(1?@? thank you so much !!! (⁠●⁠♡⁠∀⁠♡⁠)

#obey me shall we date #obey me #om! swd #obey me x reader #obey me satan #satan obey me #satan x reader #om! satan #obey me diavolo #diavolo obey me #om! diavolo #diavolo x reader #obey me crack #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs #obey me imagines

[sematarygirls]

Living Dead Girl Pt. II — Patrick Hockstetter.

part one

pairing : patrick hockstetter x ghost!reader

summary : patrick gave into his urges and finally tested his morbid curiosities on prey much larger than just a cat or dog. little did he know his actions would come back to haunt him... literally.

warnings : patrick being a psychopath , animal cruelty , male masturbation , graphic descriptions of murder and suicide , reader being manipulative , degradation , sexual themes ,

word count : 4.5k words !

a/n : can't believe i'm finally posting this after a year and a half. also this is my first attempt at smut-ish so i'm sorry if it's ass. im not gonna say this is 18+ bc I myself am not 18+ (im turning 18 this year tho) also im not your mom and idgaf what you read.

"Finally," a voice sounded, causing him to drop both his can and his plate. The sharp sound of glass breaking followed by a loud thud echoed through the room as the plate and soda can collided with the floor.

"No, no, no," Patrick shook his head, shutting his eyes. "This isn't real. I killed you. You're not here. You're not real."

"Sorry, babe," the voice, your voice, whispered into his ear. Your warm breath fanned his ear, and he felt his whole body tense. "I'm very much real."

"That's not possible," he said through gritted teeth. "I watched you die. I buried you!" He opened his eyes, convinced that this was all some terrible drug trip. Maybe the weed he'd just got from Henry was laced, or maybe he was suffering from a temporary psychosis. Either way, there had to be some rational and logical reason that he was seeing you.

However, when he saw you there, sitting there with a smug look on your face, your presence as solid as any living person, he felt his heart skip a beat.

You tilted your head, eyebrows furrowing as you pouted. "What's wrong, Patrick?" You asked condescendingly. "Don't act so scared now." You walked toward him slowly, watching him scramble backward in a panic. A smile spread across your lips as you saw the pure fear in his eyes when he hit the wall behind him, having nowhere else to go. "You weren't scared when you stabbed me. You weren't scared when you watched me bleed out in your arms. You weren't scared when you buried my body like some animal you found on the side of the road." Your voice was seeping with anger as you stepped closer and closer, cornering him. "So you don't get to be scared now."

Patrick Hockstetter was not someone who was frightened easily. In fact, up until this very moment, he didn't think he had the ability to be frightened at all. His unique ability to remain calm and collected in situations that would often stress others out was one he was prideful of. However, at that moment, he felt all composure and level-headedness dissolve. For the first time in his life, he was scared. Not just scared—terrified.

"What- What do you want?" He asked, his voice shaky as he looked into your eyes. You no longer looked at him like he hung the moon. There were no remnants of your innocence and naivety—willing to trust that people have the best intentions. There was nothing behind your cold, lifeless eyes. It was like staring at a corpse.

"Now, what's the fun in that?" You grinned, leaning forward so your face was inches away from his. Your gaze flickered to his lips. The same lips you thought he'd planned to kiss you with, but instead, he'd stabbed you in the stomach and mocked your intelligence. "You should really watch your back, Patrick," you whispered with a devious smirk, your breath fanning over his face. "I heard the search for me is really picking up after they found my blood in the woods."

Your words snapped him back to the reality of the situation at hand. He had killed you. What you were saying was impossible though. Right? He was meticulous in every stage of his plan. There was no way they found any trace of you. "What are you talking about?" He asked, his eyes searching you for any sign of deception, but you were impossible to read like this. He was no longer able to detect everything from a single glance. He only knew what you wanted him to know.

Without another word, you disappeared, leaving the boy spiraling as he went through all the events of that night over and over again. "Come back!" He screamed, his voice echoing through the empty house. "You can't just leave like that you bitch!"

Patrick let out a frustrated yell as he grabbed the nearest thing—which happened to be a porno mag—and threw it across the room in a fit of rage. Who did you think you were to haunt him? To come into his room, make him feel that horrible emotion, and tease him just to leave abruptly?

He sat on the edge of his bed, trying to control his heavy breathing as his anger took over. You had to have been lying, trying to get into his head. He hated to admit that it was working. He was supposed to be the one in your head. This was his world. He controlled everyone and everything. You shouldn't be here. You should be dead and buried like he had intended.

He fell back in his bed and took a deep breath, letting his mind settle as he chased sleep. He told himself you would be gone tomorrow and that would be that. Your appearance to him, like something out of a Charles Dickens novel, was just a fluke. Tomorrow you would be dead and all would be right with the world.

He drifted off to sleep, having convinced himself that he would never see you again. He was able to get a few hours of sleep, but you weren't going to let him be at peace for long

At around 4 am, Patrick had a very vivid dream that he was choking. He was gasping for air, clawing at his neck as he looked around frantically. His surroundings dissolved into a pitch-black room. He felt his lungs burning, his brain growing fuzzy as the oxygen left him. It felt so vivid, so real.

He awoke in a panic, sitting up straight as he gasped for air. His lungs felt like they were on fire. Like he had truly been deprived of air like he'd dreamed about. He panted, catching his breath as he looked around at his room, thankfully finding no signs of you. However, when he finally felt secure, able to draw a breath without feeling like a thirsty man drinking water, he realized the pillow that had been behind his head was now sat on his lap.

The realization dawned on him that he may have been actually suffocating, and you were the culprit. He shook his head, trying to expel the thought as he laid back down, throwing the pillow off into the black depths of his room, so he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. It was just a dream. Just as you were just a vision.

Patrick wasn't stupid, though many would argue to the contrary. Just because he didn't give a shit about school and didn't try didn't mean he wasn't smart. He just saved his intelligence for things that actually mattered—like planning and executing a murder.

That in mind, his refusal to accept the things he deep down knew to be true was not, as some would think, him being stupid. On the contrary, he believed himself smarter than to believe in silly things like ghosts. Dead things stay dead. He'd learned that at a very young age. He knew when he killed his brother that he would not be coming back. Just as he knew when he killed you that you would not be coming back.

Ghosts don't exist. He wasn't dumb enough to believe that.

As he laid in bed, trying to rationalize himself into a calm enough state to fall asleep again, he found himself more on edge with every creak of the old house around him. He stared up at the ceiling, his eyes conspiring with the moonlight to play tricks on him. His breath hitched at every shadow dancing around the dark.

You were proud of your work, and you had barely done anything yet. You watched from the shadows, pleased as he seemed to run himself in circles trying to cope with everything going on. The mere thought of you was torture enough.

You grinned, biting your lip as a thought washed over you. As a ghost, not bound by the physical realm, you had the ability to do a lot of things. One of those so happened to be raising and lowering the temperature in a room.

You focused hard, raising the temperature several degrees, making Patrick swear at the sudden sweat washing over him. You watched with a satisfied smirk as he pulled his shirt over his head, trying to cool himself off.

He didn't have a six pack or anything, but you didn't expect him to. He had a lean, toned torso with a very sexy v-line peeking out from his jeans. A small tattoo sat on his stomach just above his v-line on the right side. You couldn't make it out in the darkness, but you didn't care much. The sight of it alone was enough.

After all, who said you couldn't mix a little bit of business with pleasure.

He had taken away the rest of your life, all the possibilities of experiencing having your first kiss, losing your virginity, falling in love. It was only fair he made up for that in one way or another before your time together came to an end.

The time passed agonizingly slowly with Patrick staring at the ceiling and you watching him, studying him like he was some foreign thing. It was so interesting to watch someone when they don't know they're being watched. Of course, he felt the hairs on his neck stand on end, his body detecting the unseen eyes on him, but he chalked it up to paranoia—as he did every other unexplainable thing that seemed to be happening to him.

His mind drifted off, the heat making him restless as his brain filled with gruesome images of his previous kills. He sifted through his memory for the most interesting ones—dismembering birds, beheading cats, snapping a squirrel or two's neck—but none of them seemed to get him off anymore.

The image of your face right after he stabbed you made it's way into his mind. Your eyes, so wide and filled with fear. He could practically hear your sweet voice crying out, asking why he would do this to you. The thought made his cock tighten in his jeans.

He reached down, palming himself through his jeans with a groan. Reliving the sounds of you choking and coughing up your own blood had his fingers working quickly to undo his belt. He tossed it to the side, practically ripping the button off his jeans as he pulled them down along with his underwear, allowing his dick to finally be free from the restrictive fabric.

He spat in his hand, gripping his cock and lubricating it. He caught his chapped lower lip between his teeth as swept his thumb over his pink head, smearing his precum across it. He let out a low moan, letting his hand travel up and down his dick at a slow, agonizing pace. He kept his eyes screwed shut, immersing himself in the memory of your murder as he stroked himself.

Patrick was not a moral man by any means but this was a new low. Getting himself off to you, in his mind, was no better than if he was imagining one of his dead animal playthings. You were nothing to him. You were roadkill.

But, for some reason, the fresh sight of you, wearing the clothes he killed you in with that dark blood stain right where he'd stabbed you, your hair all matted, and the cold, lifeless look in your eyes, made it so easy to relive that night in great detail.

It was the greatest night of his life. The biggest release of pressure he'd ever felt since he began getting those homicidal urges—those itches. He didn't think he'd ever get to feel that euphoria again, but fucking himself to the thought of it would get him pretty damn close.

He let out a strangled moan, his hips pushing into his hand as he came, and he was right, it was the second-best feeling he'd ever felt. It didn't compare to killing you, but it was enough to satiate his urges once again.

He laid there, panting for what felt like hours. The time moved by so slowly until finally, the sound of the alarm block beside his bed blaring pulled him from his thoughts.

The red numbers reading 7:30 blinked slowly, reminding him that he had to get up and get ready for school. He leaned over, smacking the top of the clock roughly to silence it before falling back flat on his bed, preparing himself to get up.

He groaned, pushing himself up and grabbing a random pair of jeans and a shirt that smelled clean enough. He quickly got dressed before making his way back downstairs. He knew Belch would be here any second to pick him up—he always woke up later than he was realistically supposed to.

He slipped his boots on, and a few moments later, he heard Belch laying on his car horn. Rolling his eyes, he opened the door, heading outside and letting it slam just behind him.

"Calm your tits," he shouted in annoyance. Patrick always had a short fuse, but after the particularly restless night in which he'd been visited by some fucking ghost of Christmas Past, he found himself particularly irritable.

"Dude what happened yesterday?" Victor asked as Patrick climbed into the blue Trans Am.

"You were totally tripping the fuck out," Belch chimed in, starting the car and peeling out of Patrick's neighborhood.

"Dumb fuck can't handle his liquor," Henry scoffed from his spot in the passenger's seat.

"Shut the fuck up, Bowers," Patrick bit back, gazing out the window. "At least some of us don't piss our pants when we drink."

"It was one fucking time you dickhead!" Henry defended quickly, his cheeks turning red from the embarrassment.

At the feeling of someone's hand on his thigh, Patrick quickly looked over at Vic. "Don't fucking touch me you-" he paused just short of spitting some derogatory remark about Victor being gay and a freak when he saw you sitting between him and Victor, grinning at him darkly.

"What the fuck are you talking about, dude?" Victor asked, bewildered by Patrick's behavior. Patrick was always an odd one, but he never acted this weird.

"He probably smoked himself fucking dumb," Henry grumbled, still annoyed about the pants pissing remark.

You held a finger to your lips as climbed over onto his lap, holding onto his shoulders to steady yourself. You just wanted to rile him up a little, make him feel suffocated by you, like he could never escape. And truly, he couldn't. You were never going anywhere until you believed justice had properly been served, and you would take that in any form.

He glared at you, but you paid him no mind, leaning to whisper into his ear: "How cute," you condescended him. "You thought I would just go away." You dug your nails into his shoulders making him sharply inhale, trying not to tip off his friends to the seemingly unwarranted pain he was feeling. "You will never be rid of me," you whispered menacingly, looking deep into his eyes with a sickening grin that made nausea pool in his stomach.

In any other situation, having someone on his lap, digging their nails into his shoulders would probably have been a pleasurable experience, but this was not any other situation. This was a nightmare he couldn't seem to wake up from.

When Belch finally pulled into the school parking lot, Patrick couldn't get out of the car fast enough. You disappeared as he scrambled to unlock the door and get out, finally feeling like he could breathe. He pulled his shirt collar to the side, looking down at the angry red marks where your nails had been. They served as a disturbing reminder that you were really there, and you could do anything to him.

"You get laid last night, Hockstetter?" Belch asked, grinning as he saw the red marks.

"That why you ran off yesterday?" Henry snickered. "You pussy whipped?"

"At least, I actually get pussy," he sneered, paling as he heard your laugh echoing around him the moment the words slipped from his lips. It was a deafening sound. Like a mix between a cackle and a scream that seemed to permeate his surroundings.

His jaw clenched, eye twitching as he resisted the urge to cover his ears. Apart from not wanting to look insane, he also didn't think it would help much. You weren't around him. You were in him, in his head.

The bell could faintly be heard going off inside the school, making Victor curse under his breath. They had two minutes to get to class or they were late.

"Mrs. Denton's gonna throw a bitch fit if I'm late again," he groaned, watching as Henry lit a cigarette.

"Kiss ass," he remarked, taking a long drag before exhaling the puff of smoke into Belch's face as Victor walked away.

"You asshole," Belch coughed, shoving Henry.

"Oh, shit." Henry's eyes widened as he tossed his cigarette on the ground, quickly stomping it out. "Let's go," he ordered, making his way up the stairs to the front doors of the school, looking behind him frantically.

Patrick's eyebrows furrowed at the sudden shift in Henry's demeanor. He followed the brunette's gaze, his eyes locking with those of Butch Bowers, the sheriff.

"Wonder if they're here for you," your voice taunted him, breath tickling the back of his right ear. He turned, preparing to come face to face with that condescending smile you always seemed to be wearing, but you weren't there.

He looked back, finding Sheriff Bowers still staring at him, seemingly ignoring whatever the deputy was leaning into his ear to say. Patrick wasn't one to back down easily, but your presence, your warnings, had him on edge. He quickly advanced forward, his lengthy legs providing long strides as he followed suit in heading inside Derry Highschool.

The sounds of his heavy boots hitting the linoleum floor echoed through the empty hall as he made his way to his math class. Victor was right; Mrs. Densen was going to throw a bitch fit that he was late, but he didn't care. He wouldn't have cared on a normal day, but on this day, with the police sniffing around and you practically breathing down his neck, he cared even less—which he didn't even know was possible.

He pulled open the door to the classroom, a hush falling over the students as he entered. Most stared at him wide-eyed, some avoided looking at him altogether, and he briefly caught Vic looking at him with sympathy. The teacher, however, was glaring at him, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Mr. Hockstetter, late again I see," she said pointedly. "You've earned yourself a detention after school today." Patrick stifled a laugh as he made his way to his seat at the very back of the classroom. "Is something funny?" She asked, her tone displaying clear annoyance.

"Yeah, that you think I care," he rolled his eyes, slipping into his desk. He tuned out whatever lecture the teacher decided to give him after that. His gaze drifted to the empty desk in the front row— the one you used to sit at.

"Don't go feeling remorseful now," you said into his ear. He felt your arm around his shoulders as you leaned down, your face positioned next to his. He turned to look at you, and you turned to look at him, your faces almost touching.

your breath fanned across his face, the moment oddly intimate until you grinned at him, opening your mouth and emitting an ear piercing scream.

"Ah," he grunted in pain, his eyes screwing shut, and his hands gripping his ears. It felt like his eardrums were seconds away from bursting and causing blood to pour out of his ears. "Shut the fuck up!" He yelled, the room, and you, falling dead silent immediately after the words left him.

He peeled his eyes open, his hands falling as he looked around. "Excuse me, Mr. Hockstetter," the teacher gasped, clearly taken aback by his outburst. "Take yourself to the principal's office right this instant!" She ordered him.

His blood began to boil as he stood up abruptly, storming out of the classroom and slamming the door behind him. He was getting very very sick and tired of your little games. He headed toward the back door of the school, not wanting to cross paths with Henry's dad.

"This doesn't look like the way to the principal's office," you mused, appearing beside him. He stopped, turning to shove you against the locker. He groaned when his arms made contact with the locker instead of your body, and your laugh echoed behind him. "You think you can hurt me, how cute."

He let out a frustrated groan, smashing his fists against the locker. He couldn't stand you. He couldn't stand having someone that he couldn't manipulate or hurt but that could manipulate and hurt him. "What do you want with me?" He asked, refusing to look at you.

"To break you," you grinned. "To have you begging for it to stop."

Yeah, right he thought.

He was Patrick fucking Hockstetter; he didn't beg. He didn't bend to the will of others, especially not some dead bitch. He was determined not to let you win. You would eventually get tired of tormenting him and go back to wherever the fuck you came from. He was sure of it.

Oh, how he underestimated your patience and overestimated his resilience.

He lasted exactly a week. A week of you screaming and poking and scratching and fucking with his head. A week of people staring at him like he was insane with his random outbursts and talking to the air. A week of torment before you finally had him right where you wanted him.

"Just leave me alone!" He begged, standing in the middle of his room with his head in his hands. You had finally drove him to the brink of insanity, and he didn't know how much longer he could live like this. You, being everywhere all the time, taunting and touching and teasing, it was too much for him. He couldn't take it anymore. "Go away!"

You tsked, grinning at him, that condescending grin that filled him with indescribable rage. How could you look at him like that? Like he was stupid? You were the stupid one. You were killed by him not the other way around!

"I'm afraid that's not how this works," you told him, shaking your head slightly. "I get to stay until you give me what I want." You took a step, punctuating the next words you said with a pause between each one and another step forward. "However. Long. It. Takes."

"What the fuck do you want from me?" He yelled, desperate to get you away from him forever.

"Well," you drawled, running your index finger along his chest, making him flinch. You smiled at the effect you had on him. He talked a big game, getting mad when you left—cursing, throwing things, even—having the audacity to fuck himself to the thought of your murder— but when it came to being face to face with you, he cowered away.

Ain't nothing like a little fear to make a paper man crumble as Henry Bowers' father once said.

"I'll be nice and give you a choice," you said darkly. "You can turn yourself in," you almost laughed at the way his demeanor hardened. "Which we both know you're too proud and stubborn to do," you continued. The intrigue behind Patrick's eyes was undeniable as he eagerly awaited his second choice. "Or," you trailed off, grabbing a razor from his dresser and holding it in front of his face. "You can die."

"You're a crazy bitch!" He shouted, though his inability to mask the tremble in his voice made him sound less than threatening.

"Maybe," you shrugged, admiring the sharp piece of metal. "Hmm," you hummed. "I wonder how you'll feel about me in another week," you asked thoughtfully. "I bet you'll be wishing you took the chance while you had it."

His jaw clenched at your words. He'd already lost a considerable amount of sleep because of you, and the thought of you tormenting him any longer was a fate worse than death. "Why don't you just kill me?" He asked defeatedly. You'd backed him into a corner that he was positive he couldn't get out of without doing things your way.

"I'm not you, Patrick," you spat hatefully. "I don't kill people or things."

"What? Like driving me to suicide is any better?" He scoffed, challenging your sense of superiority over him.

"You have an informed choice," you told him, trying to regain your calm. You didn't like losing your temper, especially not to the likes of Patrick Hockstetter, scum of the earth. "That's a luxury you didn't extend to me."

He eyed the blade in your hand warily. He didn't like accepting defeat. He would never admit to killing you. Being confined to a tiny room, unable to satiate that burning itch deep inside him whenever he needed; it would drive him mad.

"Go on," you urged him softly, holding the razor out for him to take. "Put yourself out of your misery. End it all and be free."

He looked between you and the blade hesitantly, a million thoughts running through his mind as he tried to make a decision. Glaring at you, he took the blade. A scowl formed on his face as he observed the triumphant expression that you seemed to wear immediately after he made his choice.

"Two deep cuts, and you'll never have to see me again," you assured him. That all but sealed the deal. Patrick didn't believe in heaven or hell and death didn't scare him. Being caged like one of the many animals he's so cruelly killed scared him more than dying. He walked over to his bed, sitting on the edge.

He sucked in a breath, pressing the blade into his wrist and dragging it upward toward his inner elbow. He clenched his teeth, deeply inhaling through them. A groan of pain fell from his lips as he felt the warm blood begin seeping from his wound, running down his arms and onto his jeans. He continued the action on the other arm, feeling nauseous and lightheaded.

The blade fell from his trembling fingers, clattering to the floor as he fell back onto the bed. His head felt foggy, and the pain began to melt away into numbness. His eyes began to droop, and he faintly saw your outline standing above him.

He just barely felt you lean down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. His ears began to ring as his eyes fell shut. The words you spoke next were the last he would hear before his heart slowed to an eventual stop. He almost couldn't make them out, the sound muffled, as if he was underwater, but his mind used its last bit of energy to process them before giving out.

"Goodbye, Patrick Hockstetter," you said softly. "May you burn in hell."

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