#putting a hard and violent shell to protect himself

[berryicet]

I think 4S meeting and being around MePad has a lot of angst potential but I won't elaborate

#4S who's only ever known violence and hate....only being able to hurt even the people he cares about...... #putting a hard and violent shell to protect himself #seeing MePad being the complete opposite....... #being so nice and loved by ppl;;;;and 4;;; #do you think he'd be pitiful at first. #then as time goes on #realising that it's not pity; it's jealousy #at the way MePad just seems to be better than him in every way #and not knowing how to process those feelings; he turns them into hate #further hurting the people closer to him #i jsut think. seeing MePad being so effortlessly kind while him trying to do the same only got his brother killed #ouf #'i won't elaborate' *proceeds to elaborate* #might delete later. maybe #ii mephone4s

[footprintsinthesxnd]

I want you

Pairings: Jake Seresin x reader Summary: this is a blurb I wrote for @top-hhun for my 1K celebration with the prompt ‘You look… you look very nice. Beautiful, I mean. Damn, why can’t i speak?’ for post ww2 Jake. Warnings: PTSD, shell shock, post war trauma.

At first, Jake tried to hide his nightmares from you, excusing himself to go and get a glass of water or that he needed some fresh air. You knew he was lying to you and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t worried about him. Ever since he’d come home from Europe everything had been different. He rarely spoke of the war and the things he had seen but you could see in his eyes, in the way he’d dive under a table when there was a loud bang or the overly protective grip he held on your waist in public. Things would never be the same.

You tried to talk about it and asked him what you could do to help but he shut you out, he shut everyone out. Jake had never been one to show a lot of emotion, he showed you how much he loved you but when it came to emotions he deemed weak he’d close himself off.

Tonight was no different. You woke to the sound of Jake crying like a dog in pain, pitiful whimpers filling the moonlit bedroom. Turning your head, you could see his pale form and the outline of his tousled blond hair. He kept continually tossing and turning.

“Jake? Jake, honey?” you hissed, poking his forearm.

He immediately lurched forward, still asleep, crying, and mumbling.

You rolled over, switching on the lamp on your bedside table. The garish yellow light blinded you, causing you to scrunch your eyes up, watering due to the sudden brightness. You reached over the bed, placing your hand on your husband's shoulder gently.

“Jake? Baby wake up, it’s just a dream.”

Jake shot up, gasping suddenly. He threw the covers off his sweaty frame, jumping out of the side of the bed, his body shaking violently. He turned around and looked at you with wide eyes. He then drooped his head with guilt, his eyes watery and his lip catching between his teeth.

“Jake?” You asked, leaning further across the bed.

“No! No please don’t…” he put his hand up to stop you, cowering against the wall. “Please don’t.” He whispered again, his fingers gripping his pyjama shirt, scrunching the fabric between his fingers.

“I’m so sorry” he apologised, unable to meet your eyes.

“Darling, it was just a nightmare. You don’t need to apologise,” you insist.

Jake nodded, sliding slowly down the wall until he appeared as a crumpled mess on the floor.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, voice breaking as he let out a silent sob. He bought his knees up to his chest, burying his head in his palms. “I’m so sorry.”

You climbed out of the bed quickly, sitting down on the floor beside your husband. You wrapped your arms around his shaking frame, pulling his body into your lap.

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” You whispered, pressing kisses to his head, his jaw, his neck. He clutched onto your nightdress and his lower lip was shaking. Badly.

When Jake’s sobs eventually lulled and his shoulders stopped shaking you rested your lips against the shell of his ear.

“Was it about the war?” you asked tenderly.

Jake remained silent, chewing his lip as he processed what you’d asked, pondering how he was meant to explain it.

“It’s always about the war. Just different every time.”

“Can you tell me what it was tonight?” you query.

After a moment Jake nodded, pushing himself away from you so he could see your face.

“I was in the cockpit again. I was on a mission and the whole squadron was flying. We were misinformed regarding a German airfield close by and we were ambushed.” Jake swallowed hard but you continued to rub reassuring circles on his back.

“The plane next to me was hit. They went up in flames. I can still hear the pilot's cry as he was burnt alive. He was just a kid.” You let his head rest on your chest, and you smoothed his hair as he sobbed. “He was just a kid.”

Hot tears stained through the white cotton of your nightdress leaving large dark circles.

“There was nothing I could do. I was a coward. I should have helped them. I’m no man. You deserve a man. A perfect man” he said, all while trying to keep a tight grip on your waist, as if you were the only thing keeping him from combusting. You were his anchor, speaking softly as you soothed his nightmare, keeping him grounded. Hushing him, you placed both hands on his face. There was no resistance when you gently wiped the cooled tears from his cheeks.

“You’re the bravest person I know, Jake,” you said. “I don’t want a perfect man. I want you. I want my husband.”

Jake watched you, not sure whether to believe you. He carded your fingers through his hair, pulling at the loose strands before moving to cup his cheeks. You placed a small kiss on his lips, soft and gentle. It wasn’t passionate or needy but just reassuring and loving. Jake kissed back instantly, sucking your bottom lip. Jake pulled away, gripping hold of your face in his large palms.

“I’m so sorry you have to put up with this…you may have to every night…” he said slowly, his voice slurred from sleep. “I know this isn’t what you signed up for and I wouldn’t blame you. When I first met you I thought you looked really nice… I mean beautiful. You are always so beautiful. I always somehow lose the ability to speak around you, even now.” He admitted sheepishly. “But I understand if you’re getting tired of this, if you don’t want this… if you don’t want me anymore.”

“I would gladly stay awake with you every night for the rest of my life as long as I can bring you some comfort,” you admitted, placing another kiss on his lips. “We’ll get through it together. You are the love of my life and I don’t want to be with anyone else.”

Jake nodded, standing up and pulling you with him. Once you were back under the covers Jake pulled your body close to his, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck and gripping hold of your hips.

As you reached over to turn off the light, you felt him move a little, guiding your face to kiss your lips.

“I love you,” Jake whispered.

“I love you too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @callsign-phoenix @imjess-themess @averyhotchner @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @alexxavicry @a-reader-and-a-writer @topguncortez @maggiescarborough @callsignmaverick5 @ssprayberrythings @smoothdogsgirl @xoxabs88xox @luckyladycreator2 @abaker74 @elenavampire21 @classyunknownlover @okiegirl24 @flashyourgreeneyesatme @sunlightmurdock @airedale17 @callmemana @shadowolf993 @t-nd-rfoot @topguncultleader @flyboyjake @soulmates8 @topguncultleader @callmemana @marchingicenotes7 @shanimallina87 @jstarr86 @starkleila @bradshawseresinbabe @roostette @floralfloyd @soulmates8 @depressed-friend-blog @mayhemmanaged @shadowsintheknight @bcon24 @desert-fern

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fluff #hangman #glen powell #post ww2 au

[madychi]

List of Random ROTTMNT Headcanons/rando ideas!

Raph and Donnie Duo Pt.2

Donnie makes Raph a robo cat because he feels bad that despite his big brother loving small animals, they seem to hate him. Raph absolutely treasures it and uses it as a sort of emotional support “animal”. He named it Kitty.

Raph likes the texture of Donnie’s shell, and finds it calming to rub. If Donnie finds that Raph is stressed he will sigh in resignation and flop over onto his lap so he may pet his shell.

As a turtle tot Raph had a hard time learning to speak, so Donnie would communicate with him using turtle noises. As they got older they stopped because Raph learned to speak. However they do occasionally slip into to turtle noises. Yes their brothers and father find it adorable. Yes Mikey has a blackmail cute video of them doing it.

Turtle tot Donnie once pancaked on Splinter’s chair while he was out on a supply run. Raph freaked out when he found him and tried to remove him. Donnie proceeded to bite down on Raphs hand and did not let go. Raph didn’t really feel much pain, his skin was thick and tough. But then Donnie straight up tried to eat him, geting Raphs arm up to his elbow into his mouth. Splinter returned to find Raph screaming while a sleepy Donnie was “consuming him”. Raph learned to never disturb a pancaking Donnie.

After the events of the movie, Donnie suffered slight brain damage from being ripped from the ships controls. As a result he has nerve damage to his shell and hands, and starts experiencing seizures. He tried to hide it. But one day after a rough day of Kraang clean up Raph went into Donnie’s lab and found him seizing on the floor. Donnie ended up explaining to Raph everything after almost scaring Raph out of his shell with his little seizure episode. Raph insisted he make something that would alert Raph if he was ever having another seizure. Donnie agreed.

In turn, Raph would confess to Donnie that he’s been hiding things about his Kraang experience too. He was now partially blind in his right eye and and had lost the ability to taste things. Donnie was able to make Raph a special contact lens for his partially blind eye. It not only allowed him to see, but it also had a x-ray vision mode, a heat vision mode, and a zoom and enhance feature. Because why should Raphael just see when he could ✨see✨.

Sometimes when Donnie swears he can feel the Kraang tendrils creeping over him he’ll steal one of Raph’s hoodies. It’s huge on him, but its soft, warm, safe, and smells of protective Raph smell. After a week Donnie gives it to him to wear until it smells like him again, then Donnie yanks it away and puts it back on.

Donnie’s first gift to Raph was the results from a dna test he conducted that showed that all four of the turtles were biological brothers. Raph has the results framed in his room.

Both bros are the big carnivores of the group, so while they love pizza, they will go absolutely feral over a nice medium rare steak.

Donnie is fluent in almost every single language, but his main languages are English, Japanese, and ASL. Raph also knows ASL, having had taught himself so he could communicate with Don when he was too stressed to verbalize.

Once in an act of defiance, Donnie hide under the fridge and refused to come out. He wasn’t expecting Raph to reach under there, firmly grasp him by the neck, and drag him out screeching.

Once, after a really bad nightmare about the Kraang invasion that was followed up with a violent seizure and a panic attack Donnie ran to Raphs room and woke him up. Raph let him into his bed and Donnie shifted to be as close to him as possible. Raph hugged him tight, knowing that pressure helped Donnie during times like this. They didn’t really sleep that night. Just stared into the dark or at each other. The next morning when they were discovered unconscious, Raph’s body engulfing Donnie’s fetal positioned body like a protective shield from the world, no one had the heart to wake them.

Pt. 1: Here Pt. 3: -Coming Soon-

#rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt raph #rottmnt headcanons #rise donatello #rise raph #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt turtle tots #turtle tots #rise headcanons #tmnt headcanons

[pyrovverse]

THE MILITARY MAN .

Brian Thomas was something of a social butterfly, a mans man. He raised by his father, Robert Thomas, in Auburn, Alabama. In his early years Brian was a friendly, outgoing boy who took on a lot of Roberts ideals and values.

Robert was a veteran who served 10 long years in the military. He had a wide range of knowledge on topics such as weaponry, cryptography, and was a rather disciplined man. As an excitable young boy, Brian would sit by the elders side as stories of war, brotherhood and triumph encompassed his developing mind. The strict, yet good man his father was paved a clear road of friendliness, assertiveness, and firm handshakes for the boy. Cryptology was an interest that Brian picked up from Robert, learning morse code and phonetic alphabet by heart.

In high school, he would begin to develop a keen interest in psychology, interested in how the mind works and how to guide patients through hard times. Deep empathy for others came natural as he would stay true to his fathers teachings of respect, kindness, and maturity in all situations. Brian was an outgoing, charismatic boy with a witty sense of humour. He was the type to light up a room with a clever one-liner or a bright smile. The boy had a good head on his shoulders, and his good grades proved he had a remarkable grasp on the world and his place in it.

After graduation, Brian moved to Tuscaloosa, Alabama where he began working towards a bachelors degree in psychology, and minoring in video production. It was at the University of Alabama where he met Tim Wright, and later an ambitious man named Alex Kralie. During the summer of ‘96, when Brian was 18 years old and in his first year of university, he and his friend Tim joined a cast for a student film called Marble Hornets, filmed and directed by Kralie himself.

Brian would spend 7 long, torturous years falling into the hands of a deep, unshakable sickness from that point on. It started out with a boy blinded with innocence, such a hopeful view on the world, a future to strive towards. His memorable grin would soon fade as he fell victim to a series of gruesome and violent incidents between the unfortunate cast; the main perpetrator being an entity far beyond the groups comprehension. It strung Brian and his peers up and forced their bloody hands like a parasitic puppeteer.

At the end of those seven torturous years, Brian was left alone with a horribly bruised spine from a fall, two dead friends, and blood on his hands. Life would never be the same, and now he was nothing more but a conduit for the strange entities motives, if it had any to begin with. As far as anyone, including his father, was concerned, Brian Thomas was dead. And while he still walked the earth as nothing but a shell of a man, he certainly felt that way.

His optimism and boyish enthusiasm faded through years of torment and harsh lessons from unreality, to be replaced with a much colder, vengeful side. Brian would dance with criminals, tango with killers. He would put on a face, the Hooded Man, or Hoodie, to protect his real identity and possibly to make the cruel persona a bit more real. He did what needed to be done, and a good, friendly person he was no longer.

Brian Thomas continued his life holding the values of his father close to his nearly unbeating heart. And while now he was a monster by any definition, he stayed true to his word, and his handshakes were always firm. This is the life the man would make for himself, carrying the weight of the sickness and the underground on his sore back. This was all that was left after the war, if he ever had gotten out of it.

[jeanniebug623]

🕸️🕷️ Weaving the Web 🕷️🕸️

Chapter 4: The Jagged Piece

Quaritch stared at the boy - yes, he had to remind himself Spider was a child - as he stared back with a look of pure madness the colonel had only seen on hardened soldiers in the throws of shell shock. This was not the face of a sixteen-year-old teenager. Nor SHOULD it be.

Spider was not shaken by how Quaritch stared at him in silence but did break the silence from sheer boredom of the situation, “Something wrong? Sir?”

The colonel’s eyes moved over the boy’s body again. He was a mess. Covered in dirt, sweat, and blood. He had scrapes and bruises on his arms and legs where Wainfleet, Ja, and the staff pinned him down to put him in restraints. There were noticeably large handprint-shaped bruises forming around his middle and on his chest. But he couldn’t get angry with his men; they were only trying to diffuse a very violent situation.

”Who’s blood is that on your face, Miles?” Quaritch asked casually while he walked closer to show he wasn’t afraid of the kid. In truth, he wasn’t afraid of Spider physically but there was no way to reason away the unease he felt seeing him like this.

Spider chuckled again and gave a coy smile, biting his tongue between his teeth, before innocently shrugging, “I don’t know, sir. Some fucking idiot who got to close.”

The boy snapped his teeth as he lunged forward when Quaritch was almost at his side, jerking to a stop at the restraints’ limits. Quaritch managed not to step back at the sudden movement, but that couldn’t be said of his new hybrid reactions. Spider flopped back against the raised mattress and howled with laughter at the sight of the recom’s ears twitching back and tail flipping.

”Oh, sir, so sorry to scare you like that…those little tweaks and twitches really gave you away.” Spider said when he calmed his laughter enough to engage in conversation, “I’m just feeling…a little hyper today.”

“I can see that.” Quaritch said, overlooking his embarrassment. He planted his hands on his waist and looked the kid’s body over again, “Must be hard to get all that energy out tied up like this.”

The crazy grin on Spider’s face immediately went away and he stared at Quaritch like he’d just made the most boring observation in the history of existence. He let out an exaggerated sigh and held up his hands as far as they would go in the wrist cuffs in mock surrender.

”You brought it upon yourself though, kid.” Quaritch said, eyes homing in on the dark red blood oozing from his arm and soaking the bed before falling to the floor. Venous bleeding. He looked around for something to apply pressure and settled on the blanket on the floor. It wasn’t ideal but given the state of the medical supply cart’s contents scattered on the floor, nothing was really ideal or sterile.

He and Spider didn’t break eye contact as he picked up the blanket and reached forward to press a bundle of fabric to his inner elbow. Even though the boy was well aware of his presence and intention, he jerked back against the restraints as far back into the mattress as he could go and snarled with bared teeth.

”DID I SAY YOU COULD FUCKING TOUCH ME?!” Spider screamed so loud and suddenly that Wainfleet darted into the doorframe but stopped when Quaritch quickly held up a hand to stop him. The boy hissed again as Wainfleet looked between the two then backed out after assessing that he was still restrained.

”Fair enough.” Quaritch said sharply, “Mind if I stop the bleeding?”

”Yes.” Spider snapped sharply.

”…why?” Quaritch asked after a beat. If this version - Miles - was protecting Spider, why would he decline medical assistance?

”Because I don’t want you to fucking touch me. Duh!” Spider growled, his head ticking to the right just like it had in the forest.

”You don’t like being touched.” Quaritch observed, eyes briefly glancing at the still bleeding IV site.

”No!”

”Even if it’s for Spider’s welfare?” Quaritch asked, narrowing his eyes.

Spider’s right eye fluttered a few times as he grinned, “I can take care of myself…and anyone else that might benefit.”

”Not gonna happen, Miles. ” Quaritch said.

”Oh please, sir…” the boy said with a pout that he tried to keep to avoid letting out an insane giggle, “Please untie me, I promise I’ll be a good boy. So long as you and your boyfriend and the, uh, wet nurse? The guy in the hat? Just stay back.”

Quaritch ignored the insults and implications to his men and sighed. He backed up to the wall and crossed his arms as he leaned against it. He sighed and raised an eyebrow as he replied, “No, Miles. If you don’t pass out in the next ten minutes, I’m calling in the ‘wet nurse’ to sedate you so you can go all sleepy. And SINCE you don’t have an IV in, that means it’ll be administered via injection which calls for a big muscle. I will gladly bend you over while you get a needle in the ass as thick as a straw.”

Spider stared at him, narrowing his eyes as if contemplating if the threat was real. The kid almost looked like he was…enjoying the situation. This game of who could present the greater threat AND follow through with it. Both threats were valid.

”Fine.” Spider said with a classic eye roll then demanded, “Make it quick.”

Quaritch nodded as he pushed off the wall and walked over to the side of the bed, kneeling to get a closer look at the damage. No wonder it was still bleeding so much, he had a good quarter inch gaping hole in his arm with frayed flesh around the opening. It must have been torn out in the scuffle for how ruptured the site looked.

The colonel pressed the blanket to the arm, expecting a natural wince of pain, but the boy did nothing. Quaritch looked up to meet his gaze to find Spider staring intently at him. No grin, no challenging dip of his eyebrows, no emotion. He was just watching. And it sent cold terror down Quaritch’s spine.

But he would not be thrown off. He had to get the boy back on his feet and figure out what the hell to do with him…

Quaritch broke eye contact to look down at the wound again. He tested the wound’s condition by pulling the cloth back. Still bleeding but pressure was helping so he reapplied the cloth as it turned pink. After about ten minutes of constant pressure, aside from periodically checking the flow, the colonel was satisfied that it had mostly stopped.

He retrieved a cotton square and roll of gauze from the floor. Quaritch quickly glanced up at the boy to make sure he wasn’t about to get screamed at again and he was still just…staring. Spider had stayed quiet and still the entire time. The colonel quickly and efficiently wrapped the cotton over the wound for any residual bleeding. The kid’s arm was so small in his hand and, yet, Spider was capable of causing so much damage. He couldn’t forget that, even though he was just a kid, he was dangerous…

“There.” Quaritch said, clapping his hands on his thighs as he stood up from crouching, “All patched up and no needle in the ass.”

Spider moved only his eyes to watch the recom then looked away.

”Miles-…” Quaritch started.

”I’m tired.” Spider interrupted suddenly.

”You should be.” Quaritch said bluntly, “Brain damage, blood loss, and extreme activity will do that to you.”

”I’m not damaged!” Spider said, whipping back to him but closed his eyes tightly as his head jerked towards his right shoulder.

Quaritch wanted to grab onto the boy. Hold him while the painful tick in his head subsided. But he didn’t…whether he was afraid of Spider responding violently again or some barrier of his own, Quaritch couldn’t console him like that.

”Just try to sleep, tiger.” the colonel said gently. Assuming Spider wanted to be left alone, he shifted his feet to turn but before he could…

”Will you stay?” Spider asked as he relaxed into the firm hospital bed, “Will you be here when he wakes up…?”

Quaritch stared at the boy. When he wakes up? Just what the hell was this game?

Spider sighed and rolled his eyes before closing them, “I’m really tired so if you could make a fucking decis-…”

Now it was the kid’s turn to get interrupted.

”Yep, I’ll be here.” Quaritch said as he backed up to his spot next to the wall again. Whoever was going to wake up, Spider or Miles, he would be there when they opened their eyes. “Go to sleep, Miles.”

#atwow #avatar the way of water #miles spider socorro #spider quaritch #atwow spider #ao3 writer #recom quaritch #atwow fanfiction

[telekinetiq]

HEROIC

genuinely caring and sympathetic; wants to protect Pokémon and maintain their freedom and happiness. most of the 'wrong things' Mewtwo does is in pursuit of good goals.

fights for the 'underdog' and the weak; he wants to use his power and privilege to better the lives of those who don't have it.

overprotective and self-sacrificing; willing to put himself in harm's way and even give up his own life or freedom to preserve that of those precious to him.

honest and genuine, to a blunt and offensive extreme. will not sugarcoat things, but will also not leave anyone confused about where he stands.

courageous and brave; despite how much he runs and hides from things, when all the chips are down, he won't run. he will fight when it is the best or only option.

stubborn, both in the good and bad way. in the good ways, he won't back down or give up in the face of adversity. no matter how heavy the burden, he will keep going until he breaks.

careful and thoughtful, really tries to think about how his actions will affect those he cares about, and tries his best to avoid causing them harm.

beneath his hard shell, he is loving. he loves so much. he cares so much. he feels so much. he can't help it. and sometimes those feelings take him on very bad paths with dire consequences, but he can't shut them off, because the alternative of feeling nothing is terrifying. he wants to help, even if he can only hurt.

VILLAINOUS

anger. so much anger. at everything. at the world, at humans, at himself. this anger is what fuels his desire for change, to make the world a better place. even if 'better' is subjective.

emotionally and mentally isolated / guarded, somewhat intentionally. keeps people at a distance, even loved ones, as much for their protection as his own.

distrusting and paranoid. always suspicious of strangers, especially if they're humans. plagued with intrusive thoughts and feelings, always on edge, looking for enemies and seeing shadows around every corner.

selfishly selfless, selflessly selfish.

arrogant and controlling, even if he tries to rein himself in. doesn't think he knows everything, but does think he knows better. "mother father knows best" mother gothel style. but gentler about it. usually.

on the flipside, also self-loathing, although will rarely ever open up or admit it. feels trapped and doomed to be the monster Rocket created him to be. fears he will never grow. fears even more than he doesn't really want to. hates himself for being a bioweapon. hates himself more for, somewhere deep down, enjoying it.

conjoined with above, prone to violent outbursts and acting impulsively when consumed with his emotions. an emotional ticking timebomb; spends so much effort repressing his negative feelings and urges that they eventually combust. doesn't believe in 'might is right', but simultaneously uses his might to prove he is right.

bit of a hypocrite at times and has a shitload of cognitive dissonance. extremely conflicted and indecisive at times; has competing and contradictory feelings and wants. ex: M2 is very big on personal freedom and agency, but also wants to make decisions for the world and its pokemon in trying to make the world "a better place".

'the ends justify the means.'

petty and vindictive, holds onto grudges for a long time and doesn't forgive easily, if at all. not a big believer in redemption or change, for others as well as himself. stubborn and very difficult to change his mind.

#. yeah so i wasn't satisfied with just that little post so here we go #. inb4 someone tells him to get therapy- #⊰ ✦ ⊱ ┋ the monster loved; that's how it became monstrous. 「 CHAR STUDY. 」

[arcplaysgames]

y'all this liveblog almost died on the table. JRPGs need to let go of this "only save in specific locations" horseshit and get with the times

The latest Midnight Channel person doesn't start off hazy and hard to see. The image is immediately very vivid, and I remember this fucking guy. ALLLLLLLLLLLL the way at the start of the game, this weird guy rolled up and asked "yuki" out on a date and it was very "don't go to a second location with strangers" kind of thing.

The team immediately pegs this guy as potentially the culprit, using the TV to escape. Which: how would they get back out without Teddie's help? Hrm.

I'll spare you the annoying run-around to get clues. This guy's place is a really rough video game with a lot of bullshit like teleporting traps and weird puzzles. It's called VOID QUEST and uuuuuuuh

In between the floors, we seeeeem to get recollections of this guy, Mitsuo Kobo, as he murders each of the victims. But.... shit ain't.... right...

So. /pops gum. If past is prologue, it's usually little asides from the Shadow Self and the subconscious of the person that punctuates your exploration between floors.

The vibe here.... is sus, obviously, but also this Mitsuo guys seems to have utterly cracked due to something. And since we are in August, I know this guy isn't actually the killer.

Now, I think he killed Morooka, because I am pegging that one as a copycat. But the fact that the copycatter wound up hurled into the TV is.... super fucking weird. I can only assume the Actual Killer is trying to accomplish something specific and this wannabe is putting it in danger, so he got got immediately for getting in the way.

Right off the bat, the script is flipped. Instead of the Shadow haranguing the original, Mitsuo is being weird and confrontational to his shadow, boasting about his alleged crimes and explaining his motives. (Attention, basically.)

drums fingers on table

If the inner truth that Mitsuo wants to avoid is that he feels nothing and is nothing, then taking credit for the murders seems like a very violent lashing out for the sake of self-actualization. But per the shadow, it hasn't worked.

Mitsuo's shadow is a shriveled disconnected baby that can't stop thinking, which hides in a shell of Mitsuo The Hero. When you break down the shell, Shadow Mitsuo rebuilds it with moves called Whisper, Chant, Prayer.

I don't find Mitsuo sympathetic by any means, but I can see the lines being drawn here, the litany for protection, the apparent feeling that he's isolated and helpless without a full body shield separating him from the outside. Everything he does it translated into game mechanics and those are the main way he connects to others.

Afterward, Mitsuo is still claiming to be the killer, and a weird thing happens.

The shadow self... vanishes. There is no reconciliation. It dissolves into mist, and Mitsuo doesn't seem to recognize it as anything but a monster, doesn't understand it was himself.

When everyone else joins with their shadow, it's phrased like "the strength to face oneself" or something. That doesn't happen here.

It's.... definitely concerning.

I wonder if Mitsuo is going to live through this.

ANYWAY THIS PART OF THE GAME CRASHED THREE TIMES ON ME SO BOY HOWDY I GOT VERY FUCKING GOOD AT BEATING MITSUO'S SHADOW ON EASY MODE

mostly by spamming the fuck out of megidola

#p4 #persona liveblog

[mudefrau]

son of a witch x rammstein ❤️‍🔥

NO ONE ASKED FOR THIS but there is no musical so let me cope making a playlist. i've been writing this little thing since yesterday; i know no one's music taste matches perfectly so i give up directly exchanging recs with people, but this is what *i* like.

my song picks are mainly associated with liir, trism, shell, and cherrystone and here i explain why (sorry candle, despite being the musician, in my heart you become more relevant in out of oz.)

CW: typical r+ covers; soaw -typical dark themes

LIIR

of course the song called mutter (mother) had to be in. here, the narrator is conceived in a sterile way & the mother has abandoned him, let alone loveless in the world ("no sun shined on me, no breast cried milk"...) and he resents her. the resentment is a biiit strong for liir & elphaba ("i'll send her a sickness and throw her in the river")...THOUGH it ends with a repetition of "mutter, oh, gib mir kraft" (begging this mother to "give him power" eventually) which is SO them. (as a bonus, the sentiment matches a few of my hcs for shell & melena who died in his birth, hence "abandoning" him from shell's pov)

dalai lama is about fear of flying (the song was initially going to be called flugangst, literally, but the current dalai lama has a fear of flying in planes apparently and they changed it to this more unique title), it's based on a classic goethe poem. in the original, a father and his son meet an "elf king" who attempts to lure his child, the father tries to protect him in his arms just to find out he's already dead. in r+'s song, they meet the "wind king" but it's the father who accidentally holds his son too hard in fear and suffocates him to death. it's one of my favorite songs from r+, really underrated perhaps because it's not their usual style.

hilf mir's (help me) lyrics remind me of the fire of bengda since it's one of the rare r+ songs with fire that isn't pyromaniacally enthusiastic (lol). it's a child alone at home & feeling alone and they play with matches, accidentally puts on a fire and is calling for help; but also sorta trying to find company in the fire (?? it's how i interpret "the fire loves me, the fire loves me not"). this also reminds me of cherrystone-liir: liir SHOULD hate him to death given what he did in kiamo ko and yet cherrystone is (consciously or not) exploiting liir's craving for a fatherly figure so he doesn't. interestingly the bridge burning happened shortly after shell (/ his friends) burnt the scarecrow, i think of it as a parallel.

TRISM

well mein teil is about that one famous consensual homoerotic (?? its been a long time an i don't feel like looking it up again man) cannibalism case in germany. and i do associate trism with eating human flesh even if he's not the one doing it! (the dragons are) and something animalistic about it, about drawing the line between urge and reason, between human and beast, it speaks to me about him. i think that's a big theme in his character, who is used to training beasts and then lashes out at liir like one. because HE is trained like one. (by shell!!!)

SHELL

every rammstein degen sex song fits him and they have *a lot* of those so i'll just pick the iconic pussy. it's one of the rare r+ songs majorly in english because it's the pov of a foreigner, a stranger- just like shell is in southstairs: he's a dandy but he's coming down there for "pleasure" (and well, intel, in his case). the foreigner in question is going to berlin seeking legal prostitution and the lyrics, even if not super violent (compared to other r+ songs at least), show the narrator's entitlement to these women. shell DEF buys prostitution, it's hinted a few times; but the way he presents himself is as if he's the one selling himself. and even if i hc there's a part of truth, all we know for sure is that he's a professional liar.

CHERRYSTONE

waidmannsheil is a phrase to wish hunters success before their hunt. so this is a song about hunting, not necessarily military, about wanting to chase and kill the creature no matter whether it's on land or in sea. according to some interview with r+ it's about rape culture (since the song does specify "young female deer" as the prey), but i believe more than one interpretation is possible and to me it could well be about violence from soldiers in general (which, yes, includes rape).

#Spotify #playlist #son of a witch #gregory maguire #i thought i was going to include something from sehnsucht but eventually didn't a

[west-tokyo-incidents]

CW; cults(like legit shit, not just satan worshipping stereo type shit), body horror, brainwashing, etc

SOOOOO... I'm thinking about Jupiter and Fusako as adults in a Worst Case Scenario future....

Jupiter, following someone's death(Chihiro? His parents? Who knows), enters a manic-depressive cycle like the world has never seen due to his parents' respecive sins. Wherein he has a fury-fueled rage for three to four weeks(cicada adult stage span), and then hibernates for 7 years, his body curling and collapsing into a protective, bug-shell around his sphere.

In the interest of protecting her grief-stricken brother the first time he hibernates, Fusako starts telling people that the place he sleeps is sacred ground and not to disturb it, not knowing he would wake back up.

Eventually, though, with her mother's charisma, she starts drawing people in who ask about the sacred ground. Its been years at this point and she starts spinning a tale of her brother being a vengeful god who fell asleep after wearing himself out. And when people start coming to her for advice and start calling her a kind of faith leader, she starts leaning hard into it. Fully pulling from her mother's wit and her father's slothfulness, she begins to manipulate them into doing some frankly awful things.

And then he wakes up again. He kills many of his sister's 'followers' and she learns he won't hurt her and will even listen to her if she gently turns him towards other targets.

Obviously, upon seeing this monstrous bug-god kill tens of people and leave their 'leader' unharmed, this only fuels the beliefs of those who're spared.

After a few cycles, the sheer instinctual rage subsides a little and he can be reasoned with some, so she explains it to him, and he's absolutely on board. He loves his sister and hates humans, and these followers will literally throw themselves at their feet.

At some point, him staying in one place to hibernate becomes too dangerous, so they find a way for him to embed himself in the body of a human, displacing organs and becoming a proper parasite for seven years before he violently rips himself from their back--like a cicada bursting from its old exoskeleton. And of course it's all ritualistic as fuck.

Due to her being a kodomo, Fusako has a longer lifespan than the vast majority of humans and still looks 40 well into her 100s, only deepening and furthering the cult beliefs and they climb higher and higher and higher up the social ladder. Also throwing the idea back and forth that she might have a whiff of a noh, not one fully developed, but something like being able to release some kind of drug-like spore or pollen or something that puts people into a kind of psychedelic trip, which makes Jupiter's emerging all the more god-like with his shimmering wings and lanky body and vivid black gauntlets.

#cw gore #cw cult mention #cw body horror #dead dove do not eat #ress talks #kodomo au #fankid au #cicada church #<- if i keep writing on this thats what ill tag it as

[earlgreydream]

october 24

🍁 Humiliation — Bucky Barnes

content warnings: voyeurism, slight exhibitionism, slight dubcon, mentions of violence, degradation, thigh riding, d/s, dubcon

“Don’t act all shy, we know you love scary movies,” Bucky teased, gripping your ass. 

“Is it true that you get all worked up watching them?” Steve asked, grinning at his best friend. 

“Stop it, both of you. You’re horrid to me.” 

The boys shook their heads, Bucky pulling you to sit on his lap, Steve on the other end of the couch. They turned on a horror movie, insisting it was the best way to celebrate Halloween. 

You didn’t think so. Last time you’d watched a scary movie, the closeness and protection of Bucky got you a little horned up, and you ended up naked, the film forgotten before it was over. Since then, Bucky had been boasting to Steve about how horror got you in the mood, a sight that Steve had to see for himself.  

They’d devised a plan— having a horror movie night, and getting you all worked up and horny, and then milk it for all it was worth.

“Bucky,” you whined, covering your eyes when they put on ‘Scream’. 

“Don’t worry doll, Steve and I’ll protect ya,” he smirked. 

You rolled your eyes but settled down in his lap, getting cozy under the blanket. As the movie started to get violent, you felt the excitement starting to buzz in your veins. You couldn’t help yourself, unable to stop the heat that burned between your hips. 

Embarrassment rose in your chest, knowing Bucky sensed your arousal, unable to hide it from your lover that knew you better than the back of his hand. 

“What's got you so squirmy?” Bucky asked, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. 

“Is it the violence? Or just the horror?” His hand slid under your sweater, palming your tits.

You tried to suppress a whine, failing as he rolled your nipples between his fingers. You squeezed your thighs together, trying to get some relief from the pressure. 

“Come on, don’t be shy,” Steve laughed, prying your thighs open, even as you tried to keep them shut. 

“I bet if I checked your panties, they’d be fucking soaked.”

You looked away from Bucky, gasping as he pushed down your leggings, your panties sticking to you before Steve helped tear them off. 

“Filthy girl.”

A dry sob heaved through your chest, humiliated as the boys inspected your pussy, Bucky pushing your folds apart and circling your hole, gathering cream onto his fingertips. He brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean and smirking at you, watching you squirm even more. 

“Since you can’t hold still, ride my thigh while you keep watching this violent movie. I want to see you cum hard all over my leg like a bitch in heat. Go on, show Steve how much of a little slut you are.”

You didn’t dare disobey, straddling Bucky’s thigh and rolling your hips. The drag of the denim against your hypersensitive clit was delicious, even if humiliating. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the screen, Steve holding your head, making you watch the slasher film as you ground your cunt against Bucky’s thigh, trembling in humiliated arousal. 

Bucky bounced his thigh, making you squeal at the extra friction, jolting forward whenever he landed a bruising slap to your ass. 

“Told you, she’s a perverted little thing,” Bucky grinned, mocking you in front of Steve. 

“I see that. Poor slut, can’t help herself.”

A shudder rolled down your spine, an orgasm ripping through you as you watched the killer in the movie lick blood off of his fingers. Bucky’s arm snuck around your waist, catching you as you fell forward, unable to hold yourself up. 

“There you go, doll, so good at following directions. Cumming like a nasty whore on my thigh,” he grinned, kissing the back of your shoulder. 

He bent you over the arm of the couch, shoving his jeans down and freeing himself. You looked up with what little strength you had left, seeing Steve stroking his cock as Bucky entered you swiftly.  

Your moan was muffled by the couch cushions, high pitched from your sensitivity as Bucky fucked you like a toy, using your sopping pussy to get himself off. His hips slammed against yours in a sloppy rhythm, barely audible over the loud screams coming from the television, the movie still on in the background. His head dropped back, overwhelmed with how good you felt squeezing around him, throbbing from the intensity of the moment. 

“Bucky!” You gasped, feeling him orgasm inside of you, thick cum coating your channel, dripping down your thighs as he pulled out. 

Steve was panting, cleaning himself up, all three of you still reeling a bit. 

“Here,” Bucky gently pulled your underwear back on, wrapping you in a blanket. 

Steve said goodnight, and you sat in Bucky’s lap, letting him dote on you a bit until you calmed down. He kissed your cheek, praising you and telling you what a good job you did. You snuggled into him, burying your face in his neck. 

“I thought you think I’m a nasty little pervert.”

“I think you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. Absolutely perfect.”

#grey's kinktober #kinktober #kinktober 2021 #bucky #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky oneshot #bucky x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers imagine #marvel #marvel au #avengers #avengers au

[sunshineseung]

Where You Belong // Minho

🍄 | genre: smut (and angst if you squint) ☁️ | pairing: Lee Minho x female!reader 🌿 | wc: 2.9k 🌸 | includes: hard dom!minho, sub!reader, religious themes, slapping, spanking (with bible 😳 omg im filthy), hair pulling, spitting, finger sucking, minho’s big, face fucking, crying, begging, praise/degradation, unprotected sex, bulge kink/distension, breeding, no aftercare :(, [spoiler] demon/succubus!minho

☀️ | synopsis: You go to your church to worship God, but you soon find out who you should really be on your knees for. 

🌊 | requested: “I have a request! 😶 Could you maybe do something like Sinner but for Minho?” your wish is my command sweet annonie~

You’re kneeled down and bowing your head, mentally repenting to the Lord above. It’s late at night, but not late enough for the Church to be locked. The soft light from distant old lamps illuminate your figure, the red carpet beneath you softly separating your knees from the hard oak floor.

“Hey, is this seat taken?” You widen your eyes and look up, being disrupted mid-prayer by a man you’ve never seen at the congregation before. He’s average height with shaggy brown hair, wearing a black leather jacket with a white tee shirt underneath and black skinny jeans to contrast. Needless to say, he looks far from the usual churchgoer.

“Yes, but please be quiet. This is a place of worship.” Your tongue sounds sharp as you vaguely scold the stranger, him kneeling next to you, staring at you as you go back to prayer. You can feel his eyes on you, tracing your body. “Sir, if you’re not going to pray, can you please move somewhere else?”

“Pray? Why would I do that?” He laughs and stands up, his eyes never leaving yours. You roll your eyes and stand up with him, but he quickly puts his hand on your shoulder and forces you back down. “Hey, stay on your knees. You look better like that.”

“I don’t know who you are, but that is disgusting!” With your arms folded, you turn your head away from him, refusing to look at him. “Perverts like you shouldn’t be allowed in the house of God.”

“If it’s so disgusting, then why did you listen to me?” He leans down, his face right next to yours. You can feel his breath on the side of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. His body heat is so much warmer than yours, and you feel yourself cower from his presence. “Looks like you like being on your knees for more than God.”

“That’s why I’m praying, and I suggest you do the same, sir.” While you speak, he takes off his jacket and throws it onto a pew, stretching his arms out, showing off his muscles. He puts his hand on the top of your head, scratching you as if you’re a puppy. “Sir-“

“Keep calling me sir like that and I might have to make you worship me instead.” You feel your body freeze, feeling far out of your comfort zone. Your body is shaking, and you need to stand up, but you can’t. There’s something inside you that refuses to allow you to get off of your knees. As much as your brain is telling you to run away, your body wants you to stay. “You’re praying because you’re a whore, huh? You like sleeping around, letting any cock that comes your way use your little cunt like a toy?”

You swallow the spit collecting in your mouth, your lungs feeling empty as you try to respond. Nothing can come out of your mouth, head going empty, only forcing out a whine. What has come over you?

“God doesn’t forgive just anyone, ya know? They have to prove that they’re worthy of forgiveness.” He pets your hair more, making all your thoughts leave your head as he grips your scalp. You finally look at him in the eyes, his brown eyes turning black as he looks down at you like you’re his prey. “What have you done to be forgiven other than be a little cumslut?”

“N-nothing I suppose.” Your mouth feels dryer than a desert, your eyes trying to focus on something, anything, just to bring you back to reality.

“Then maybe you should just do what you’re best at, hm?” He pulled you head back by your hair, forced your mouth open with his fingers, and dove his digits to the back of your throat to test your reflexes. “Slutty little angel takes my fingers so well. I wonder how well you’ll take my cock.” He pries your mouth open with his drool-coated fingers and spits down your throat, closing your mouth with his hand on your chin to make you swallow. “You’re such a fucking pervert. Don’t you know the Lord is watching?” 

“What’s your name?” You look up at him, feeling your senses slowly return to you. “I don’t want to go any further if I don’t know your name.”

“Oh, so you’re willing to go further?” He raises his eyebrow, a wicked smirk growing across his face. “My name is Minho, but you call me sir. Master works too, love.”

“We shouldn’t do this in a church.” You finally stand up, but Minho grabs your body just as you get on your feet and pulls you towards him, his hands roaming across your body, feeling every dip and rise. He hums in your ear, his large hands cupping your tits and squeezing them, making you groan. “Th-this isn’t appropriate.”

“No bra?” He slaps your chest, your body violently arching as he inflicts pain. His teeth harshly bite into your neck, lips sucking bruises onto the skin. “How much you wanna bet that you’re not wearing panties either?”

You go silent, one of his hands leaving your breast and sliding down your body between your legs, feeling your pussy directly under your jeans. You whimper quietly as his finger presses against your clit, the rough denim causing an uncomfortable stimulation to your most sensitive area.

“Just as I thought. You come here to repent to your God, and yet your body is begging to be fucked.” He pushes you off of his body, you weakly standing to your feet as you look back at him, his eyes a dark shade of red. “Are you sure we can’t fuck in a church? This place has so many toys for us to play with, baby.”

“T-toys?” You look around the room as you back away from him, scared he’ll snap and pounce on you. “There are no sex toys here.”

“Not conventional ones, but I see something I can easily use to put you in your place.” He walks up to you and turns you around, bending you over one of the pews. He pushes your face down into the musty church seat as he grips your hair, holding it up so he can kiss the back of your neck. “Stay still, angel. This is what you deserve.”

“Huh?” Before you can comprehend what’s going on, you feel a hearty thwack against your ass, still covered by your jeans. It didn’t sound like anything you’ve ever heard before, the impact sounding hollow from whatever he hit you with. “What was that?”

“I think you people call it,” Minho pulls down your pants, fully exposing your bare ass and dripping cunt to the open church, “a Bible?”

You can practically hear the smile in his voice, another hit falling against your ass, this time feeling much more intense from the lack of protection between you and the works of the Lord.

“People like you always walk around with their nose in the air, feeling above everyone around them.” Minho spanks you again, harder than before. “You’re just as much of a sinner as the rest of your kind, slut. Know your fuckin’ place.”

“W-what do you mean my kind?” He doesn’t answer your question of course, another slap from the Bible making your ass a bright red. Your skin is burning with pain. You’ve never felt like this before: used and abused, yet mentally begging for more.

“Dumb whore hasn’t caught on yet?” Minho laughs at your quivering body, running his hands up your back from under your shirt. With one pull, your shirt is over your head, tossed to the dusty floor of the old building. He bends himself over you, his bulge pressing directly against your aching pussy. “You were right, sweetheart. Perverts like me shouldn’t be allowed here, but not for the reasons you’re thinking.”

Your raise can only be raised from the seat so much, turned to the side so you can breath. You feel out of it even though he hasn’t properly fucked you. Nothing has ever made you feel like this before, and you writhe inside imagining what this man was about to do to you, and how eagerly you’d take whatever he gave you.

“We have more in common than you think, you know?” His mouth is right next to your hear, lightly sucking on the shell. “Sex is our vice. You can’t deny that.”

“Please fuck me, sir,” you whine, pressing your ass back against his crotch. He hisses, feeling his raging cock strangle itself against his tight pants. “Don’t care where we are. Need your cock.”

“Bitches like you are overpowered so easily.” He rustles his cock out of his pants, pulling his tight jeans down his thighs so his cock can press between your ass, thrusting through your folds, but not slipping in. You’re absolutely soaked, lubing his cock with your juices. He feels so big, you’re not sure if you can take it all. “Back on your knees. Master wants to see how well your mouth can take a real cock.”

You obediently hop up, moving away from him to get on your knees and kneel before him, looking up to him like he was your one true God. Being naked in a church was already sending you to hell, so much more trouble with your savior could you possible get into?

He quickly grabs your head, your mouth falling open as his tip enters your mouth. He pulls your head back down his shaft, forcing his cock down your mouth in one swift movement. You choke on his length, the size of him causing your jaw to ache after seconds. His cock is so big and veiny, but you love the weight of it pressing against your tongue.

Minho ruthlessly fucks your mouth, your lips turning red as he abuses your throat. Spit drips down your chin as you continuously take him down your throat, tongue loose against the bottom of his length. Minho’s groaning loudly, and surely anyone else in this church would have heard him. He throws his head back, his thrusts into your mouth getting sloppy as his hands roughly make a mess of your hair.

“Such a good mouth, baby.” You hum on his cock, the vocal vibrations causing him to shiver. He’s leaking precum down your throat, his cock twitching as his orgasm grows near. Your mouth begins to grow sore, painful-induced tears rolling down your cheeks, mixing with the drool around your mouth. “So messy for your master, hm?”

Minho harshly pulls out of your mouth, leaving your jaw hung open from the abuse. He’s breathing heavily, looking down at you as his hands slip from your head to your shoulders. You look up at him with water eyes, trying to decipher is expression. His eyebrows were furrowed, but he had a crooked smile. He looked like Lucifer himself had climbed out of hell to drag you back down with him.

“Beg for it, angel. Beg for my cock.” He taps your bottom lip with his tip, not allowing you to taste another drip of him. You whine and squint your eyes, desperately looking for any words while your mind was elsewhere. “What’s got you so shy? You want my cock to stuff your pussy, don’t you?”

“Y-yes, sir.” Your legs shake as he pulls you up by your arms, grabbing onto your ass as your legs wrap around his hips, his cock presses against your heat. “P-please!”

“You can do better than that.” He drops you onto the seat you had found yourself bent over only minutes prior, legs spread, pussy ready to be used by your master. Minho climbs on top of you, pressing the tip of his cock against your hole without plunging in. “What do you want, slut?”

“I want master to fuck my cunt like he owns me. Please fuck me, master! Need your cum inside me~” you trail off at the end, staring down at where his cock teases your greedy hole. He pushes the tip in, stretching you out just enough to make you wince for a moment before whining for more. “Fill me with your cock, please!”

“My angel wants to be bred now?” His transition between praise and degradation made your head spin, but you loved every name he called you. “You want to be bred by a demon, sweetheart? Feel my hot cum inside you? Drip out of you after I’m done with you?”

“D-demon?” Your heart starts beating. If you weren’t sinning enough already by fucking in a church, all the subtle hints Minho had been dropping up ‘til then suddenly made sense. “You’re a-”

“Don’t dwell on it too much. Just let your master show you how much fun it is to be bad, alright?” You nod as he pushes himself in, his length feeling like a stab to your abdomen. His body on your was so hot, and not just metaphorically, but also literally. You were sweating bullets by the time his cock was fully buried inside you, your walls hugging his fat cock like he was made for you. He groaned deep, falling into your shoulder, biting at your collarbone as he began to pull out and thrust back in. “You’re tight for someone who gets her body exploited so often.”

His hands find your wrists, pinning your hands to the sides of your head while he fucks into you, the drag of your walls making him moan in your ear. You were trying your damndest not to scream his name in the echoey church hall, but it was becoming difficult the more his presence overwhelmed you. He watched your face struggle between pain and pleasure, feeling himself get to the edge just from looking at you. To pause his impending orgasm, he looks down at where he was connected with you, but that proved to make his job even harder.

“I’m fucking you so good, my little whore. You can see my cock make your stomach bulge.” Just saying that made him hiccup, holding himself back from letting go and intensely pounding into you. He moves a hand from your wrist and presses it against your lower abdomen, making you feel even tighter on his cock. “Fuck- good girl.”

He rams his cock into your sweet spot effortlessly, hitting it with every stroke. Your back arches, your orgasm nearing it’s edge. All your nerves stand on their end as your legs squirm around Minho, finally wrapping around his hips again and pulling him into you, his cock reaching deeper than before. You moan loudly as you cum around his cock, Minho making the slightest movements of hips to help you reach your peak. You looked like you were glowing, tightening and spasming around his aching cock. Now that you came, it was Minho’s turn. Your legs fell from Minho’s hips, signaling that it was his time.

“I’m gonna cum so deep inside you, angel.” Minho wastes no time waiting to return to his pace, if anything going faster than before. The sound of skin slapping and moaning was so violent. You were overwhelmed by the situation, your pussy becoming a beacon of pain as he mercilessly railed your pussy. “You want master to fill you up with his cum, right slut?”

“Please cum inside me, master.” You were sobbing, both from the pain of the overstimulation and the pleasure from Minho’s raging cock. “Please? For your angel?”

“Anything for my angel.” He groans, nearing a growl, as he cums inside you, completely bottomed out as his seed spills onto your walls. You felt so full, almost too full, as he sits inside you, gently fucking his release back into you. Before he pulls out, he leans down and kisses your soft lips, a soft, sweet kiss. “You took me so well.”

We pulls his cock out of you, hissing when his flaccid dick falls out of you, watching his cum drip down your ass to the expensive fabric of the pew. You both hold your position, catching your breath and clearing your minds, trying to comprehend what just happened.

“Ya know, they say humans are tighter... they’re right.” Minho pulls his underwear and pants back up, getting fully dressed and prettied up before walking away from your fucked out form. “See you around, babe?”

“Minho, wait!” You hold your hand out, but he’s out the front door before you can catch his attention. You’re not entirely sure that you will ‘see him around,’ but even if you do, that doesn’t distract you from the fact that you’re now naked in a church. The place you came to worship and repent. The place you came to escape the vice of lust. “Guess I’ll be going home now.”

You look up at the clock over the back door and notice it hasn’t changed since you walked it. After you’re fully dressed, the second hand starts ticking. Time itself seemed to have stopped. You were deeply disturbed, but you just had to go home. Maybe it was all a dream.

You lay in bed that night, sleeping peacefully, having a real dream, and Minho’s shadowy figure stands next to you, staring at your body, wishing it was him sharing that space next to you. A chill runs down your spine, forcing you awake in a cold sweat as Minho leaves through the window, unknown to you. You just thought you were having a nightmare.

I know I can’t be with her, but a demon can dream, right?

#stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop smut #lee know smut #lee minho smut #minho smut

[bloody-bee-tea]

Raise

Ever since he and Nie Mingjue broke up, Jiang Cheng has only been going through the motions. He’s still fulfilling his duties as a Sect Leader—his pride in his Sect won’t allow him to do anything else—but that’s about it.

There’s nothing in life to take enjoyment from anymore and Jiang Cheng feels a lot like he did right after the war, except with less existential dread. But he’s lost and unmoored and he doesn’t know what to do.

He hates it a little bit that Nie Mingjue still has this kind of power over him, but mostly he’s just fucking devastated.

Now he understands his sister and her tears and her sad smiles a bit better.

Getting your heart broken really is the worse and Jiang Cheng guesses it doesn’t help that at least he knows that Nie Mingjue felt the same for him.

Jin Zixuan was a complete asshole to his sister, which must have made it a little bit easier Jiang Cheng hopes, because he wishes this for no one.

When he realizes that he lost himself yet again in his own head, he scoffs. It’s been happening a lot lately, and usually all of his thoughts turn to Nie Mingjue but he can’t afford to slack off.

No matter what his second in command keeps telling him on a daily basis.

If Jiang Cheng would take a day for himself, he wouldn’t do anything but wallow in his misery anyway, and he prefers working over doing that.

So he goes on, and on, one letter after the other, until he made a considerable dent into the stack that built itself up during his last weeks with Nie Mingjue.

Jiang Cheng grinds his teeth together when he realizes that he’s yet again thinking about the other man and he slams his hand on the table in his rage.

He really wonders just how long this will go on; how long he will be haunted by the thought of Nie Mingjue. Right now, he hears Nie Mingjue’s laugh echo in the hallways they frequently walked together, he feels Nie Mingjue’s phantom touch on his shoulder whenever he sits hunched over some work for too long, and he still feels all the love Nie Mingjue had for him.

But duty comes first, Jiang Cheng understands that. He doesn’t have to like it, but he understands.

“You can’t just—no, wait,” Jiang Cheng suddenly hears from outside and he lifts his head a second before someone barges into his study.

“You fucking asshole,” is what Nie Huaisang greets him with and Jiang Cheng knew that the break-up would throw a little bit of a wrench into their friendship, but he didn’t expect this.

“Huaisang,” he still greets his old friend, but he figures he shouldn’t have when Nie Huaisang glares at him, clearly too agitated to even get his fan out.

“Do not even dare,” Nie Huaisang hisses. “You absolute fucking asshole. You said you would love him!”

“I do,” Jiang Cheng says with a sigh, getting up to close the door behind Nie Huaisang, hoping that not all of Lotus Pier heard him yet.

“Yeah, I can tell,” Nie Huaisang sarcastically gives back. “It’s so very evident in the way you broke up with him.”

“Don’t be unfair,” Jiang Cheng whispers, but he can’t meet Nie Huaisang’s eyes.

It still hurts too much.

“Unfair. Unfair! The only one being unfair here is you!”

“Huaisang,” Jiang Cheng snaps, now slowly getting angry himself.

He can understand the protective instinct of a sibling, but this is really going to far. It’s not Jiang Cheng’s fault, and he didn’t actually want to break up with Nie Mingjue, but since it was what Nie Mingjue had wanted, he had done it.

And it seemed unfair to be attacked over this now.

“No. I’m going to ruin you,” Nie Huaisang lowly says and while usually Jiang Cheng wouldn’t give much thought to a threat like this, he knows that if Nie Huaisang really wants to, he will.

Going by the glare Jiang Cheng gets, Nie Huaisang really wants to.

“Why? It’s not my fault,” Jiang Cheng snaps at him and Nie Huaisang laughs right in his face.

“Right, not your fault. Of course not. How could it be? You’re just the guy who broke up with my brother.”

“Because he wanted to!” Jiang Cheng shouts at him, his heart still hurting so damn much and that at least is enough to shut Nie Huaisang up for a few seconds.

“He wanted to,” Nie Huaisang lowly repeats. “That’s what you’re going with? Really?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jiang Cheng asks, suddenly drained of all energy and he goes to sit back down at the table.

He doesn’t want to fight with Nie Huaisang and he doesn’t want to do it while standing up, and all he really wants to do is go crawl into bed with Nie Mingjue and curl up against his chest, but it’s not like he’ll ever be able to do that again.

“My brother finally opens up to you about the qi deviations and your first instinct is to run away and break up with him? And now you’re trying to twist it like it was actually his idea? You’re really something else, Jiang-zongzhu. I thought better of you.”

“That’s not what happened, Huaisang,” Jiang Cheng says with a small frown, because Jiang Cheng remembers that conversation a lot differently, and he was actually present.

“Then enlighten me,” Nie Huaisang hisses. “What did happen?”

Jiang Cheng desperately doesn’t want to speak about it—the pain still too near and fresh—but Nie Huaisang is levelling him with a look that promises pain and absolute ruin if Jiang Cheng doesn’t start speaking like five seconds ago and so he sighs.

“He told me about the qi deviations,” Jiang Cheng says, because so far they are on the same page. “That he’ll die soon and young and violently.”

“And you left him for it,” Nie Huaisang says with a nod, as if there could be no doubt about it.

“I love him. Do you really think that low of me?” Jiang Cheng asks, a new kind of hurt finding its place in his chest.

Jiang Cheng thought he was long over being hurt by people being disappointed in him, but it seems like he was wrong.

“Seeing as he is back home, absolutely devastated and you’re going on like nothing happened, I think the only possible answer can be yes,” Nie Huaisang sneers at him and Jiang Cheng sees red.

“I have to do this,” Jiang Cheng yells and shoots up. “I have to because if I don’t keep busy, if I don’t distract myself, I’ll be a fucking shell. I want to do nothing more than to crawl into bed and cry for a good week but what good is that going to do me? It’s not going to get me Mingjue back and my Sect actually still needs me. I was miserable all through the war and for a good while after and I don’t want to feel like that again. And besides; he made his choice. What use is there for me to cry after him.”

“He made his choice? The audacity you have! And don’t raise your voice at me like that,” Nie Huaisang gives back, clearly unfazed by Jiang Cheng’s explosion and it cuts all of Jiang Cheng’s strings.

It doesn’t matter what he tells Nie Huaisang, he realizes. He has his mind already made up.

“He told me about the qi deviations and that his Sect must come first,” Jiang Cheng still mutters. “He needs an heir.”

Jiang Cheng barely gets the words out, and he hates himself a little for how his eyes well up almost immediately. It’s been almost a week by now and the words still hurt as much as they did when they left Nie Mingjue’s mouth.

In front of him, Nie Huaisang freezes.

“What?”

“He said he needs to prepare, that he needs someone to take over eventually. It’s not that hard to understand his meaning,” Jiang Cheng whispers.

Nie Mingjue needs an heir. And for that he needs a wife. It’s as easy as that.

“Did he say it like that?” Nie Huaisang asks and Jiang Cheng nods miserably.

“That fucking idiot,” Nie Huaisang mutters and finally sits down himself, slamming his fan on the table. “Listen here, Wanyin,” he says and Jiang Cheng wonders when he switched back to being Wanyin again.

“I’m listening,” Jiang Cheng says because clearly Nie Huaisang is waiting for a response from him.

Though he’s not quite sure he can take any more accusations today.

“My brother is an idiot,” Nie Huaisang solemnly says and Jiang Cheng fights the immediate urge to defend Nie Mingjue.

He’s not sure he still has that right.

“Why?” he asks instead, because it seems like the safer option.

“I am his heir,” Nie Huaisang tells him and Jiang Cheng goes very still. “When father died and da-ge decided to not take a wife, they wrote that down somewhere. I’m to inherit the Sect should anything happen to my brother.”

“He—it didn’t sound like that when we talked,” Jiang Cheng carefully says.

It makes no sense. Nie Mingjue had looked sad as he had said that he needs to prepare. Why would he look sad if he already has an heir.

“There was sadness on his face when he said it,” Jiang Cheng weakly goes on, because he still remembers that look and it cuts him just as much as it did then.

“It was probably regret. Da-ge wanted to give me an intensive few months of Sect Leader training, so that he could hand off the reigns sooner, before his qi deviations get really bad. He resolved himself to not see you during those months, because he said you distract him too much.”

“No, he—” Jiang Cheng starts, putting his head in his hands. “That’s not how that conversation went.”

“Clearly, it’s not,” Nie Huaisang says drily. “But we both know da-ge and we know you. Both of you tend to draw your own conclusions. Da-ge thought he made himself perfectly clear—asking for a few months with nothing but letters for contact—and you thought he was breaking up with you. I can see where you would get that idea from, don’t take me wrong—da-ge is horribly bad at wording things—but it’s not what he wanted. He’s moping and heartbroken at home. I didn’t even get any training yet.”

“You hate training,” Jiang Cheng mutters, his head spinning.

“I like logistics and getting people to do what I want,” Nie Huaisang corrects. “And I would like my brother to be happy again,” he tacks on, with a raised eyebrow.

Jiang Cheng swallows.

“He doesn’t want to take a wife?” he asks, just to make sure. “He doesn’t want to sire an heir?”

“He does want to adopt a kid with the guy he had been courting for a while,” Nie Huaisang says, absolutely nonchalant as if it’s not blowing Jiang Cheng’s mind to hear that Nie Mingjue thought about a little family of their own.

“Really?” Jiang Cheng asks, his voice full of hope and his heart hammering away in his chest.

“Really,” Nie Huaisang assures him, finally picking up his fan and flicking it open with the by now so familiar gesture.

“I think I have to cut your visit here short, then,” Jiang Cheng says, already scrambling to his feet.

“You go on ahead,” Nie Huaisang waves him off, draping himself over the table. “The flight here was way too exhausting for me.”

“Sure,” Jiang Cheng says, rolling his eyes, but not actually bothering to convince Nie Huaisang.

If he flies alone he can push himself as much as he wants, and then he gets to see Nie Mingjue sooner.

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng doesn’t bother to announce his arrival and Nie Mingjue’s disciples clearly don’t deem it necessary to do it, either, it seems, because Jiang Cheng simply barges into Nie Mingjue’s quarters without anyone telling him.

“What are you doing here?” Nie Mingjue asks him, his voice rough and Jiang Cheng sees the dark circles under his eyes and how pale he is.

It seems they both didn’t deal well with the temporary break-up.

“Huaisang invaded Lotus Pier,” Jiang Cheng tells him and Nie Mingjue immediately draws himself up.

“Whatever he said, don’t listen to him. I respect your choice,” Nie Mingjue reassures him and Jiang Cheng wants to go to him and hug him and kiss him, but for now he simply rolls his eyes.

“He said there was a misunderstanding.”

“A what?”

“You said you need someone to take over the Sect. You never mentioned Huaisang. I thought you meant you want to take a wife,” Jiang Cheng explains in as little words as possible, because he is dying with the urge to finally get his hands on Nie Mingjue again.

“A wife,” Nie Mingjue repeats and blinks. “If anything she would be the second wife, because I intent to marry you.”

Jiang Cheng flushes bright red at that, but his heart is dancing in his chest. With happiness, for a change.

“Yeah, I should hope so,” Jiang Cheng says and dares to step closer. “But I understand duty to your Sect and so when you said it like that—”

“You thought I would ask you to step back so I can focus on my Sect. You would have allowed me to take a wife?” Nie Mingjue asks and Jiang Cheng shrugs.

“Duty comes first,” he says because if he learned anything in his youth then it’s that. “I understand that. I didn’t like it, but it sounded sensible to me.”

“Nothing about that is sensible, I love you, what the hell would I ever do without you?”

Find someone else to love, Jiang Cheng wants to say, but Nie Mingjue doesn’t let him, because with two big steps he’s right in front of him and he doesn’t hesitate to crush Jiang Cheng to his chest.

“What would I even do without my heart?” he whispers again and Jiang Cheng’s resolve is broken.

He slings his arms around Nie Mingjue and presses himself as close as he can get, his breath leaving him in shuddering bursts.

“I didn’t like it,” Jiang Cheng chokes out. “I missed you so much. I love you.”

“Never think something like this again,” Nie Mingjue begs him. “I would never do that to you, not for any duty in the world.”

“Okay,” Jiang Cheng weakly says and Nie Mingjue presses a kiss to his head.

“Not for any duty,” he repeats and Jiang Cheng nods.

“Okay, alright,” he gets out, his voice choked up with tears.

For once they are tears of happiness because he’s finally back where he belongs.

Link to my ko-fi

#bt writes #mingcheng #the untamed #mdzs #angst #misunderstandings #temporary break-up #getting back together #hurt/comfort #nmj is alive #nhs is the best friend #and brother #and he will not let either of them forget it

[backtobackbakubabe]

Speak Easy Part 7

Bakugo x Reader, Dabi x Reader

Words : 3515

Masterlist

*Smutty this chapter*

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together?

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

************************************************************************

“Please… I want to feel something. I need you to- I need you to make me forget, even it’s just for a little while.” His thumb was rubbing over your cheekbone. “Just don’t treat me like I’m fragile. I’m so sick of this numb and broken feeling.”

You knew you weren’t thinking clearly. You knew there was a very good possibility you’d regret this later. But right now… all you wanted was for Dabi to drown out all the thoughts in your head. You wanted to be consumed by him, wanted him to work you over until this numb feeling in your chest went away.

You expected him to be aggressive and he didn’t disappoint. His lips were on you, kissing and biting any skin exposed to him and when that wasn’t enough, his hands literally tore your shirt to pieces. His lips immediately connecting to your collarbone and trailing down. He spoke to you between kisses, his voice husky with need. “Red means stop. Yellow means slow down. Green means good to go. Repeat it back to me.”

He sucked one of your nipples into his mouth and your back arched to push your breasts closer to him. His hand heated up and slapped the tit that wasn’t currently in his mouth. “I said repeat it back to me.”

You sucked in a breath, “Red i-is stop.” His hand came down to tease your clit through your underwear. “Y-yellow is slow down.” He started to rub firm circles, making you moan in appreciation. “Green is-“ He began to suck a bruise into your neck.

“Green is what?”

A tear ran down your cheek. “Green is… AH! Good!”

“Good girl.” He pulled your underwear down your legs and it wasn’t until then that you remembered your period. You weakly started to push his hand away as it traveled up your thigh. “I haven’t forgotten y/n. I also don’t care. I’ve blood on my hands before.”

He shoved two fingers into your sopping entrance and started to pump them in a hard but slow pace. He had only just begun, and you were already beginning to feel blissed out. You didn’t know how pent up you had been until he had you unraveling at even the slightest touch.

Your nails dug into his shoulder which had him chuckling. “Oh baby… I haven’t even gotten started yet and you’re already losing your mind.” His fingers quickened their pace and his other hand grabbed the hair at the back of your head forcing you to look at him. I want those eyes open and on me.” You shivered at the sound of his voice. It wasn’t a suggestion. “Do you understand?”

You nodded your head as you stared into his blue eyes. Afraid your voice would give away how desperate you were. He wasn’t satisfied with that though. He tugged on your hair, “Use your words, I want to hear that sweet voice of yours.” He put his forehead on yours his nose brushing against yours. “Now let’s try that again… Do you understand?”

You whined as his fingers started to slow down. “Y-yes..”

“Yes… what?” His lips ghosted over yours while the palm of his hand began pressing into your clit.

“Yes sir…” Your fingers twisted into his white hair trying to pull him closer to you to close the distance between your lips.

He didn’t budge. Keeping his lips right on top of yours but not touching. “A little louder baby I can’t hear you.”

You could feel your orgasm starting to build and your eyes instinctively closed as you let your head fall back against the mirror. A needy moan slipping past your lips.

Dabi growled and bit your nipple hard, pulling on it with his teeth. Your eyes shot open and you screamed. “YES SIR! Ah… Dabi

He cooed in your ear, “Shhh, such a quick leaner. Look at you fucking falling apart on just my fingers.” He curled his fingers making you gasp in pleasure as he managed to hit that spot over and over again. “Good girls get to cum. Have you been a good girl y/n?”

You were panting now, tears leaking out of the corner of your eyes. “Yes! Oh god please let me come daddy!”

The sound that left Dabi’s lips was practically feral. “Daddy huh? Well Daddy is going to fucking ruin this pussy. After I’m done with you, no one else will be ever be good enough. I’ll make you cum again and again until the only though in that empty little head is ‘thank you daddy’.” His fingers picked up the pace and you felt yourself tighten around them.

“That’s it baby. Show daddy how much you like it. I want to hear how much you love Daddy’s fingers!”

You cried out as you felt your orgasm take over. Waves of pleasure taking over you. You didn’t even know what words left your mouth as you babbled in bliss.

You felt Dabi’s body heat tear away from you momentarily before hearing the shower turn on. Before you had time to react you were scooped up into his arms and he was walking you into the hot spray. You didn’t know when he had, had time to take his clothes off but here he was buck ass naked pulling your back to his bare chest.

There was a seat in there that he had gotten for you. He took a seat and pulled you into his lap. His lips found the juncture where you shoulder met you neck. One of his hands came up to fondle you tit, fingers tweaking your nipple while the other squeezed your hip. “Color?”

You leaned back into him letting your head rest on his shoulder, “Green.”

The hot spray of the shower was hitting your chest and abdomen. You hummed in pleasure as he continued to lavish your neck in kisses.

Then with absolutely no warming he was shoving himself into you in one long hard thrust. The only hint of patience being when he stopped to let you adjust to his size. You screamed and your nails dug into his thighs. “That’s it let me hear you.” He slowly dragged his cock out to the tip before slamming you back on top of it. It was almost painful but in the best kind of way. “Let me hear that sweet little siren song huh? Let me hear the voice that’s so powerful it had a whole hero agency scared shitless.” He thrust into you again his lips at the shell of your ear. “I want to hear the voice that make men crumble to their knees… and I want to know that it’s singing my praises.”

His pace was slow but aggressive. You could already feel your second orgasm building and you couldn’t hold back your moans even if you tried. They only spurred him on.

Suddenly he was standing and flipping you around, so you were bent over holding the chair for support. His hips snapped into you as he picked up the pace. A hot hand came down on your ass cheek before snaking down to your front and playing with your clit again. “Ah fuck… yes. Thank you daddy. Please don’t stop! I’m gonna I-I’m gonna… AH!”

“You’re doing so great baby. You take my cock like you were made for it. No one could take this cock like you do. You’re so good… Cum for me. Come on you can do it, I know you can.”

You rockers your hips back into him a few times before gasping as you started to clench around him. “Oh baby you’re so fucking tight. God you feel so good.” You came even harder than you had the first time and felt your arms give out. You would have fallen forward if Dabi hadn’t caught you.

“Oh no baby doll. I’m not done with you yet… I heard all things, good or bad, come in threes… So, what do you say?” His dick that was still in you twitched. “Think you have another orgasm in you?” He chuckled when you only whined in response. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He pulled out of you only long enough to turn you around to face him. You couldn’t stop your eyes from roaming over his naked body as this was the first time you had seen it. You thought you saw something that looked like insecurity briefly flash in his eyes, but you didn’t have enough time to ponder it because he was manhandling you once again.

He leaned your back against the shower wall lips finding yours. His fingers ghosted a trail from the side of your breast, down you side, until he reached your knee. He hooked a hand under it before pulling it up until your ankle was resting over his shoulder. He continued to kiss you as he repeated this process to your other leg.

The stretch in your muscles was bordering on uncomfortable as he basically folded you in half like a fucking taco. You didn’t have time to complain though as he thrust his throbbing dick back into you.

It was softer this time though. His forehead leaned on yours as he slowly fucked into you. “What’d I say about keeping your eyes open sweetheart. I need you to look at me. Now open up those pretty eyes for me huh?”

You bit your lip and blushed as you looked into eyes. “Oh no need to be shy now.” His hand came up to push some of your wet hair out of your face. “You are so-“ His hips started to stutter a little. “Fucking perfect.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I don’t want you to ever feel like you are broken, or weak. You are a fucking fighter, you are so strong.”

A broken moan left his lips and you could tell he was almost at his limit. He began to eratically pump into you, hitting that hidden spot inside you every… single… time.

“Please Dabi, I can’t. It’s too much!” You struggled to keep your eyes open but you somehow managed.

“Yes you CAN! COLOR?”

Your hands gripped into his shoulder and you accidentally activated your quirk. You closed your eyes before you could connected with his thoughts, but there was nothing you could do about the skin to skin contact. You were hit with not only your own pleasure but his as well and it immediately overwhelmed the both of you. It was like an endless cycle of pleasure feeding into each other.

“Oh my FUCK! GREEN, GREEN, GREEN! SHIT GREEN!” Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your legs shook violently with your intense orgasm.

He growled loudly as he released inside of you. “Shit I’m cumming. You took me by surprise you fucking naughty girl.” He pumped into you a few more times before stilling inside of you.

The only sound for the next few minutes was that of your labored breaths. His fingers traced patterns into your skin. You hissed when he finally pulled out of you. He put you feet back on the floor but had to keep his hands on you to keep you steady.

He reached behind him and grabbed a bottle of body wash. You felt like putty in his hands. Letting him clean you while massaging your sore muscles. It wasn’t until the water started to grow cold that he wrapped you in a towel and carried you back to your room. You fell asleep sometime after getting dressed for bed. The weight of the past few days finally lifting off of your shoulders.

****

Dabi pulled your sleeping form on top of him slipping his warm hands on your lower back, much like he had the other night. You nuzzled into his neck and sighed. Your small hands gripping his shirt in your sleep.

Later that night he stared at the ceiling as his fingers carded through your hair. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew he didn’t need to read too much into what had just happened between the two of you. You had literally asked him for a distraction. If that’s what you needed, then he’d gladly give it to you. He just hoped you didn’t regret it.

He knew this was temporary. He knew soon enough you’d leave here and end up with someone like Bakugo. The thought left a bad taste in his mouth. He saw the way you looked at each other. There was history there that he couldn’t ignore. Part of him knew you deserved to have someone like Bakugo at you side.

He couldn’t afford to let himself get too attached to you. He was already too close. Any closer and he would never let you leave. He needed to be careful.

*

The next day you woke up to an empty bed, which surprised you because you almost always woke up before Dabi… Oh shit Dabi. Your mind replayed last night’s events and you felt your face heat up. You had asked him to make you feel something and he delivered… three times.

You grudgingly rolled out of bed and headed towards the kitchen. The whole way there you practiced what you would say in your head. You expected him to find him sitting in the kitchen with his cocky smirk eating breakfast. You expected sly comments and maybe even an attempt at round 2 on the kitchen counter.

What you didn’t expect was to walk into an empty kitchen. You shrugged thinking maybe he was in his room doing only God knows what.

You headed to the pantry to grab stuff to make breakfast but saw a note written in the most childish handwriting pinned to the fridge.

“Had to run some errands. Try not to die while I’m gone, and don’t leave the house. There’s a phone in the office for emergencies. – Dabi”

You couldn’t stop the feeling of dread that washed over you. He wasn’t here. You were alone. He hadn’t even asked you, he just left.

You nervously made your way around the house checking every single widow and door to make sure they were locked and secured. Your nerves were all over the place. You were definitely giving him a piece of your mind when he got home. You momentarily debated if you should call Katsuki, but after what happened last night you didn’t know if you could face him. You refused to feel guilty for sleeping with Dabi, but you did at least acknowledge that it would hurt Katsuki if he found out, and that made you sad.

You didn’t know what to do with yourself. You hadn’t had a free day to yourself in a very long time. You used to love days like this. You’d usually order a bunch of take out, pop open a bottle of wine and binge watch TV.

Your circumstances might be a little different now. You may not be able to order take out, but you knew Dabi had a wine cellar and a TV. You snooped around the kitchen before you found some frozen pizzas. This had the potential to be a good fay after all. Maybe a break was what you needed. You still had some lingering anger with him about the whole drowning fiasco, and it your frustration only grew with his little disappearing act.

You didn’t know how long to cook the pizza, so you just guessed. You chuckled at the thought of Dabi coming home to you burning the house down trying to make a pizza.

You took what looked like a very expensive bottle of wine and plopped your ass on the couch. You could watch whatever you wanted, and it didn’t matter because Dabi wasn’t here to be grumpy about it.

You were one pizza, two bottles of wine, and three seasons into your free day, and you were loving it. You hadn’t felt so… normal in a long time.

You were putting a second pizza into the over when you heard the front door slam close.

You held your breath and grabbed the closest thing to you which was a spatula. You held it close to your chest as you slowly rounded the corner. You practically ran straight into a hard wall of muscle. You immediately started swatting at them with a drunken war cry.

“OW! Shit stop it you fucking gremlin it’s just me!” Dabi yanked the spatula from your grasp and used it to swat at your ass. “Seriously you’re in a kitchen full of knives and shit and your first instinct was to grab the spatula.”

You yelped as he swatted at your ass again. “Heyy you’re lucky it wasn’t *hiccup* a knife or I’d ‘ave stabbed you.”

“Oh yeah? I’d be more afraid of you stabbing yourself with how drunk you are.” He took a look around and smirked, “Looks like you’ve had a good day.”

The timer for the pizza went off and you practically jumped out of your skin. “Oh! Pizza! You want some?”

Dabi shook his head, “Unlike you, I’ve had a very, very bad day. I think I’m going to head to bed early.”

Your lip stuck out in a pout, “Oh come ooooooon. You’ve been gone *hiccup* all day!” You lunged at him and wrapped your arms around him. You noticed him wince and you pulled away to see your shirt was now covered in blood… his blood. The sight was nearly enough to sober you up on the spot.

“Dabi! What the hell? What happened?”

He tried to take a step away from you, “Nothing, some of my staples just ripped out. It’s not a big deal.”

You grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up. “Staples my ass! Dabi you’ve been stabbed!”

He groaned, “I’m fine! It’s not even that bad. Just a flesh wound.” The smell of smoke came from the oven, “Please take out the pizza before you burn the house down.”

“The pizza! Shit hold on.” You took a step towards the oven but came back and pointed at him. “Don’t. Move. I’ll be right back.”

He wanted to be irritated as he watched you skip off towards the oven. You were a cute drunk. A stupid drunk, but cute all the same. He watched you reach in to grab the pizza without any oven mits like an idiot, “Y/N! Stop! You’re going to burn yourself.”

He hissed through his teeth as he pushed through the pain to shove you away from the oven. You wobbled a little before your eyes settled back on Dabi. “Oops.” You giggled and put on the oven mits and took out the pizza. It was a little charred in some places, but you didn’t seem to mind. “Okay! Game plan… We eat pizza until I’m not drunk and then I sew you up.”

Dabi took a seat in a high bar stool at the kitchen island and you hopped up on the counter to sit practically between his legs. “That sounds like a terrible idea. I can handle it. I told you it’s not that bad.”

You took a huge bite of pizza, “Well if it’s not that bad then it should be something I can handle then.” Dabi opened his mouth to protest but you cut him off by shoving a piece of pizza in in his face. “Nope! No negotiations. Law number eleven accept help when it’s offered!”

He rolled his eyes as he took the slice from you. “You’re fucking stubborn you know that?”

“I am well aware. Now you going to tell me about how you got stabbed?”

He avoided eye contact and nibbled at his pizza. “Nope. That’s between me and the dumbass who was stupid enough to do it.”

You hadn’t expected him to tell you, but it still irked you that he was hiding things from you. “Law number twelve. No lying.”

Dabi could hear the hurt in your voice and he sighed. “I’m not lying, I’m just not telling you.”

You glared at him, “Not telling me is just a lie of omission!”

He brushed your hair out of your face, “Did you learn that in hero school.”

You pressed your cheek into his hand. “Will you please let me know the next time you decide to leave? It was kind of scary being by myself.”

He felt kind of bad for leaving without saying anything but he couldn’t risk you finding out what he was up too. He gave you a smirk, “Aw did you miss me?”

Your eyes looked into his and without any hesitation, “Yes.”

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. “I’ll compromise with you. I’ll let you bandage my little cut, but I promise it doesn’t need stitches.”

You smiled and tried to hop off the counter. Your equilibrium was still a little off though because you ended up in Dabi’s lap. He smirked, “After all this time, still falling for me huh?”

*******************************************************************

Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime@klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need @katsuki-bakubabe @unadulteratedtastemakerpoetry @dabislittlemouse@aimee1602 @pinkhatlizzy @kunaigirlx44 @nii-sanfucker

#bakugo katsuki imagine #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #bhna bakugou #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #dabi my hero academia #dabi imagine #dabi #yandere dabi #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #dabi x reader #dabi bnha #mha dabi #dabi todoroki #mha fanfiction #mha x reader #my hero academia

[greenmonstercollarbones]

I just simoly have to ask fir the rest of the boys headcannons on this because Raphas was just so cute!!

Yo y'all wanted the rest of them, problem being I'm not really a leo simp. But I'll use all my brain power to make his decent. Again I'm just gonna say pg-13.

Leo

He is always busy training, patrolling, or just tidying up so you have to take advantage of every opportunity you have to cuddle this man. So the second he sits to clean, sharpen, and oil his katana you crawl into his lap. He objects at first because he doesn't want you to accidentally get hurt. But eventually you convince him to let you stay, but he's very careful still.

At the beginning of your relationship you never bothered him during meditation. But one day you come to the lair asking where Leo is and his brothers tell you he's meditating and not to bother him. You ignore them and go sit in his lap. He's too nice to say anything and it kinda became a ritual. Even though sometimes he really just wanted to meditate.

His bed is super tidy and has a little more room than Mikey and Raph's so he does let you sleep over once and awhile. But his does kinda accidentally shove you in the corner and is all over you. (Part of it is he instinctively doesn't trust his brothers and they kinda all share the same space. But another is he just kinda isn't aware of how much space he's taking up when he's unconscious.)

Later in the relationship he'd start help dressing you for bed or the morning. Not in a sexual way really, he'd just want to help you take your shoes off. Or ask you to lift your arms so he can't take your shirt off and replace it with a much comfier one. (He won't admit it but it's also because he likes to hang your clothes on the post of his bed or off one of his hangers to show off that your his to his brothers. One time it was even your underwear but that's another story)

Whenever he brings you out and about or even just hanging around the lair he constantly brushes up against you, rubbing against your arm or back. Sometimes he'll grab your fingers momentarily before walking away. He just wants to be close.

If you HAVE to be involved in a violent setting he trys to stay out of the main chaos to keep YOU out of the chaos and still protect you. He knows that it's kind of shitty to his brothers because he's supposed to be in charge and in the midst of battle but he doesn't care. If it's too bad he'll just straight up pick you up, tell raph to take over for him, and leave because he doesn't want to risk it. After this he'll just sit guard and apologize that you had to be there while rubbing your thigh.

Mikey

Oh he's just touching you 24/7 no matter what's going on. The first time you meet Vern and Casey he's showing you off, grabbing you everywhere, and wrapping his arms around you so hard you think you'll suffocate. He even picks you up to being you closer to them and spins you around to show you ALL off.

"Look at their hair, and their style isn't it sick, and look at how cute they are! AND LOOK AT THEIR NOSE!"

He totally doesn't care that there isn't a lot of room on his bed. Actually to word it more correctly, he doesn't even think about it and once it becomes a problem for him he just says he'll deal with sleeping on his shell and tells you to just sleep on top of him. But a few times this does end in you waking up on the floor, which donnie predicted for you and stuck old gym mats by both sides of the bed.

Mikey also dresses you, but not for the same reason Leo does. Mikey does it because he actually has an interest in fashion, and you're much easier to dress than himself. So he'll rummage through your closet and hold clothes up to your skin. And sometimes will start to take off and replace your clothes without thinking about it. (If it made you feel uncomfy he apologizes and feels really bad. He won't do it again.)

Mikey is in charge of the music in the lair most the time which results in some of your favorite songs and some very danceable songs. Even if you don't want to dance with him he'll dance ON YOU while lipsyncing and joking around with you

He very often wants to compare body parts, sometimes out of sadness because he's different but sometimes just out of sheer curiosity. And most of the time it comes out of nowhere.

"Dude your toes are so small." "Babe the bottom of your feet are are so soft." "My fingers are longer, I win. (Win WHAT sir?)" "KNUCKLES HAVE HAIR!?"

The second he's done with training, patroling, or anything "ninja-y" (as he says) he just wants to flip down with you next to him. Literally anywhere though.

On the floor? Okay cuddle me. Eating? Okay but sit on my lap. In the bathroom? Okay but can I come in and hold your hand?

Donnie

He is probably more secretive about his cuddling than Raph is. He's okay with cuddling with you in bed, because the guys already know he sleeps in it with you (on the nights he lets himself sleep), but cuddling with you during the day in front of everyone? No thanks.

It's not that he doesn't want people to know you are dating or to show you off, he talks about you all the time. He just doesn't feel comfortable showing everyone that side of himself. So most days if he has a lot of free time he'll take the shellraiser.

He'll drive for a long time, until you're somewhere you can just chill alone. But while he's driving he'll hold your hand, or sometimes you'll unbuckle and crawl into his lap while he's driving. Usually he has these trips planned out and will know exactly where he wants to go with you, brings your favorite snacks, and we'll sometimes bring something else to do if he plans to be out there for a long time.

His bed is very spacious although it's not really built for your body type (it's for turtle folk.) He fixes this by just piling a bunch of pillows so you're just sleeping on fluff. If that's not sufficient enough he'll let you sleep on top of him but he makes sure to let you know he tried and this is not what he wished the outcome of this sleepover be (aka he's uncomfy and wishes you weren't on top of him). If you sleep on the pillows though he's totally cuddly. He likes to be face to face because since his glasses are off he can finally put his face up close to you and nuzzle you.

I like to think donnies not really a morning person, so once your both awake he's not getting up. Instead he wants to cuddle you and play on his Xbox together. Until Mikey interupts and says breakfast is ready and then asks if he can join. Donnie will push you away and get embarresed that Mikey saw you guys so close.

Afterwards he apologizes and pulls you back in. You'll keep playing for awhile but you 100% make fun of him for it to get him back.

#tmnt 2016 #tmnt x reader #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt bayverse #tmnt donatello #tmnt #tmnt headcanons

[the-redeemed-anon]

Welp, since we got Wilbur back, let’s take a look at Eight

As a disclaimer, I’ll talk about the character, and if I mention the CC, I will label his name accordingly.

Okay, since the pog thing that happened on the 29th of April, and a couple of bad takes have already started to pop up Jesus Christ guys why do you want the dude that just got back to life after being trapped in limbo for over a decade to get beaten up violently- I think it’s appropriate to bring attention to the thing that gave me my pseudonym and my belief that we may get a redemption/healing arc for Wilbur: the song Eight, by Sleeping at Last.

Why this song matters, you may wonder. Well, it’s a song that we have confirmation to have been CC!Wilbur’s personal inspiration for his character, as said by CC!Wilbur himself. Not only does that give us insight into how and why Wilbur acted in certain ways in Season 1, but it also gives us the opportunity to see the inner turmoil he went through and still will.

Now keep in mind that this is just my interpretation of the song, other people may see the song differently, but overall looking at this song and looking for meaning into it I think is very useful if you plan to analyse Wilbur or even write about him. It truly gives you a lot of insight and context for how he was. Here is a link to it for you to listen to it, before I dive into the analysis.

First, let’s see what Eight is about, as a song. The song is about Type Eight of the Enneagram of Personality, which is basically a system that defines 9 different personality types. Sleeping at Last made a song for each Enneagram, actually, but we’re here to talk about Type 8 (also bear in mind I am not an expert in psychology, so I am not here to comment on the validity of this system. I’m here just to analyze a song lol).

What is Type 8 (aka a bit of analysis on Wilbur outside of the song)

Type 8 is often called the Challenger or the Protector. This type is characterized by a want to not show vulnerability, to have power. Their deepest fear is to not be in control of themselves, to be harmed, to be vulnerable, and their desire is to be in control of themselves, their life/destiny. They want respect over status, value loyalty and they want to make an impact on the world. You can start to see some core characteristics of Wilbur in this description.

We also have levels, from healthy to unhealthy, with which we can see what a Type 8 person can behave like.

Healthy Type 8 people act like a protector for others, they are the strong leaders, the challengers of oppression, the people who don’t stand for injustice in their communities. You can say they are the natural leader type, and I think you can start to see inklings of Wilbur’s personality from early Season 1 here. He started L’Manberg to challenge what he saw as tyranny. When Wilbur described the reasons he cared about L’Manberg, we can also notice that the values he lists align with the core desires of a Type 8: the desire to have control over their life, and not allow others to control them. By making L’Manberg to “stick it to the man“, Wilbur is very stereotypically a Type 8.

Average Type 8 people aren’t as open as someone on the healthy level is. Showing weakness is unacceptable. They may see relationships as the next challenge they need to surpass, and can come easily off as intimidating and ambitious to peers. To me, this sounds a bit like Wilbur after the War, before the announcement of the Festival. He was more closed off around that time, and you could argue that the Elections were a part of his ambition to prove that people respect him, that he can do this, rule a country. The new revelation that Wilbur was lying in his letters to Phil, about the Elections and the formation of Pogtopia also shows that he didn’t want to show weakness, to disappoint or worry his father.

Unhealthy Type 8 people become so closed off that they are intimidating and can appear tyrannical from the outside, often disregarding the feelings of others. They pursue power, and when someone stands in their way, they are cold and become quite antagonistic. They may issue empty threats in their pursuit for power, and their already existing relationships are turned into tests, where the only option is to pass or to fail, with no in-between. This can result in them being abandoned, and them accepting this as being better this way, to be alone. They can force themselves into loneliness.

If this sounds terribly familiar and recent, well... Wilbur, ever since the “Then let’s be the bad guys“ speech, has exhibited the traits of an unhealthy Type 8. Even now, post-resurrection, while he is trying to improve on himself, a lot of his traits remain or have worsened, due to staying in limbo for 13 years. He still has a persona under which he hides his issues, and as I have said in another post, he’s the emotional equivalent of a snail, you poke him gently and he completely retreats in his shell. Wilbur has actively driven people away from him for being so confrontational, and this can be seen again with Ranboo. All in all, Wilbur is definitely cozy in that section of the Type for now.

I also want to talk separately about three things:

1. The Pit

I won’t lie, the Pit is probably the most extreme thing Wilbur did to this date. It’s Wilbur at his lowest point morally and mentally, reveling in his brother figure fighting a much tougher opponent and losing. I won’t sit here and say he was right, nor am I gonna condemn you for your opinion on the Pit, but, when you look at Wilbur’s enneagram, the Pit and why it happened makes sense. What happened right before? The Festival. The Festival was meant to be the time Wilbur either blew up Manberg or left it be, based on Tubbo’s call. Wilbur prepared for those two scenarios, and felt in control of the situation... then it all went horribly wrong. The situation spiraled wildly out of Wilbur’s grasp and it ended with the death of Tubbo and the possibility of Techno being on Schlatt’s side.

This started a breakdown fueled by paranoia that led to the Pit, to Wilbur goading Techno and Tommy to fight. The question is, why? Why do that?

To regain control. Wilbur, in my opinion, did that in an attempt to regain control, after the Festival slipped so hard from his grasp, no matter his effort to keep control of it. That was his urge, that was his need in the moment, no matter how messed up it was, he may have felt like this was necessary. Remember, the core fear of Eights is to not be in control of their own life and destiny, to be puppeteered by someone else. This is why the Pit happened, when you acknowledge the fact that Wilbur was unstable mentally, and he is the type of person to want control.

2. The want to protect others

This is a quality of healthy Eights that still shines through with Wilbur, but it’s sadly overshadowed by his more antagonistic or morally darker actions and quotes.

Wilbur was naturally a protective person. Because Eights challenge authority, this makes them see the world as being inhabited by those who are strong and those who are weak, and not in a bad way. Eights consider themselves part of the strong ones, because they stand up for themselves, but because they see the world also inhabited by the weak, they have the urge to protect them. They also stand up for whom they think can’t stand up for themselves on their own, they think they are responsible for the protection of others.

And when you look at Wilbur, this shines through. He made himself President, and while no one protested, he did it because he felt he was the one fit for the role. Even at the time this scene happened, you can see why Wilbur would have perceived Tommy, Tubbo and Fundy as weaker than him: Fundy was his son, and Tommy and Tubbo, no matter the age intended at the time, were always viewed as younger than him, not to say, Tommy had just lost 2 lives back-to-back. Therefore, Wilbur put himself in charge and with the duty to protect the nation and its people, as the President.

Wilbur even says this in the flashback from Quackity’s stream:

[“What has made you do everything you’ve done up to this point?” (Quackity)

“That’s a- That’s a big question. Um. I guess it’s just protection for my people. I mean, I- I- I just want to see them thrive, and I want to see them safe.” (Alivebur) - (Quackity’s Killing My Enemies: 1:03:02, 12th Apr)]

It’s clear, Wilbur has a desire to protect his nation, and, by extension, his people, his friends, especially with the following quote once Quackity replies: [“Your aspirations of optimism are not going to be subject to my nation’s security I’m afraid. I- I completely disagree with everything you’ve said.” - (Quackity’s Killing My Enemies: 1:05:18, 12th Apr)] He keeps hammering in the idea that he did what he did to protect and offer safety to his friends. That’s why he needed power: [“If you want to really help people, you’re gonna need power, Quackity.” - (Quackity’s Killing My Enemies: 1:05:42, 12th Apr)]

And again, this happens even after the “Then let’s be the bad guys“ speech. Even though he initially says he wants to kill everyone at the Festival, when confronted with this on the day of the event, he second-guesses himself. He doesn’t want to hurt his friends, he doesn’t want to hurt people weaker than him. He distrusts Tubbo, but the moment Techno fires the first rocket, he’s shocked, appalled and moves to go to the button, while urging Tommy to act. When Schlatt wants to kill Niki, he steps out and offers himself to be killed and no one else be harmed.

Even the act of pushing the button himself, there are Wilbur analysts who have pointed out that Wilbur may have wanted to be stopped. And even then, the explosion created no casualties, thanks to all of them wearing armor.

In the Void, Wilbur talks about how he’s evil, how the server is better off without him. He recognizes himself as a hazard, and while that is a part of his self-loathing and hatred, you can also see his care for others shine through: he didn’t want to come back at the time, because he thought he would bring back conflict, suffering [“Here’s the thing, I genuinely think, if it weren’t for me and you dying right, the server would be in shambles. I know for a fact that if I come back, or if I’m brought back to life in some way it’s definitely gonna just go [shit again]” “I know what I’m like, that’s the issue.” - (Tommy’s am i dead?: 10:29, 4th March)]. By staying dead, at this point, he was continuing to prevent weaker people from being harmed.

Even now, post-resurrection, we can see this, but, well...

3. Opinion on Dream

I have looked at this before, from the angle of Wilbur’s mentality. We all know his opinion on Dream so far, that he would have killed him on the spot for what happened to Tommy in the Exile, but Wilbur still considers him his hero. While I said at the time that it may be a subtle way for Wilbur to cloak his self-loathing and self-hatred, but now I want to look at the first part again, from the perspective of Type 8:

Wilbur, by having the urge to kill Dream on the spot, for what he did to Tommy in Exile (and, keep in mind, Ghostbur wasn’t there for all of it, so Wilbur did not see the destruction of Logsted and why it happened, or how Tommy was completely isolated from everyone after the party, and Tommy referred to Dream as his owner to Mexican Dream), no matter what he says after about Dream, proves that he still has the quality to want to protect the weak.

Dream, as always, is one of the strong people of the server. He’s the owner, he has a lot of items and good gear, and in general, everyone recognizes him with a level of danger he presents, and power. Tommy, on the other hand, is one of the weaker ones.

While Tommy has valuable traits, like his loyalty, his fierce determination and the will to keep moving despite how low life kicks him at times, one can’t deny that, in general, Tommy is viewed as one of the weak. He doesn’t have that many powerful items, he isn’t physically that strong, people constantly pick on him, and he is one of the minors of the server, the youngest of them, in fact. Add to that the humiliation of Exile and the treatment he was put through, Tommy was not only at his weakest then, but also at his most vulnerable.

Why would it be a surprise then for Wilbur to want to gut Dream, considering the above? Tommy and Wilbur were very close. As Wilbur acknowledged in the latest stream: [“We were a family, Tommy. We were…” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 27:26, 5th May)], they were once so close they could have been brothers. Tommy stuck with Wilbur as a right hand man, he was the only one who didn’t give up on him in Pogtopia, no matter if he thought his choices were right or wrong, and Wilbur confided in Tommy a lot. Now take this little brother figure he had in Tommy, and put him through Exile.

Of course Wilbur would want to gut Dream, Tommy may as well be part of his family, and Wilbur doesn’t strike me as the kind to want his loved ones in pain, genuinely. He may dismiss the feelings Tommy has sometimes, but his reaction to Exile shows that he isn’t blind to suffering. He saw it and recognized as harmful and damaging to Tommy, unprompted by anyone else.

He even makes a comment that I think may be important in the future: [“Tommy, I’m not, I’m not- I wasn’t blind, I saw what he was doing to you, Tommy. I saw. I saw what he was doing to Tubbo. I saw what he did to me.” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 21:08, 5th May)]. Remember, Wilbur right now is deeply conflicted, I don’t think he’s properly sorted his feelings on Dream yet. He, in this quote, recognizes he saw how Dream treated Tommy, Tubbo and himself. While Eights want to protect the weak, their core fear is being controlled or harmed by others. I am very curious what will happen if, or, when, Wilbur will decide that Dream is also a hazard to himself, or if Dream will try to use Wilbur for his own plans. But, this is starting to deviate from the purpose of this post so, with that out of the way...

The lyrics:

I remember the minute It was like a switch was flipped I was just a kid who grew up strong enough To pick this armor up And suddenly it fit

Here, Wilbur’s arc and story begins. The lyric recount the moment Wilbur’s spiral began: the Final Control Room. He remembers that betrayal up to his death, still calling Eret a traitor and quoting him, with the same quote he used: “It was never meant to be”. This moment is what will define and shape Wilbur throughout Season 1, and even now. The switch mentioned is the button pressed, the moment everything changed. “I was just a kid” is Wilbur recognizing that he was not ready for the role of President, sentiment reflected by the rest of the lyrics: “who grew up strong enough/To pick this armor up”. Wilbur forced himself to bear the title of president, like a suit of armor, something that protects you, and helps you to fight for others, until “suddenly it fit”.

God, that was so long ago, long ago, long ago I was little, I was weak and perfectly naive And I grew up too quick

Here Wilbur internally recognizes that time passed, his ideology changed, as evident the quotes from Quackity’s stream: [“You say, you say everyone has a good side, Quackity. And you’re right, you’re right, everyone has a good side, but that good side is only there to help themselves. If you want to really help people, you’re gonna need power, Quackity. You can make a movement, you can make a resistance, right, you can go out and you can come back, and they’ll give you a ticker tape parade. They’ll cheer for you in the streets, but you will change nothing. If you have a revolution, everyone will hate you, you will sacrifice everything, and you will lose everything you’ve ever had, but you’ll come back and everything will be changed. And Quackity, if you want to change things, you’re gonna need power. That’s what you want, really, isn’t it? Look at me. And power isn’t gaining from diplomacy, and bureaucracy, and giant courthouses suspended in the sky, blah blah blah. It’s gained from swords, Quackity. It’s gained from blades, it’s gained from steel, iron. Even if everyone has this good side that you’re talking about, then anyone who wants to prove it, has to show their dark side first. You’re going to have to kill, you’re going to have to torture, you’re going to have to maim.” - (Quackity’s Killing My Enemies: 1:06:34, 12th Apr)]. Yet, even if this happened so “long ago, long ago, long ago”, he “grew up too quick”, because the change was too sudden, and it didn’t occur naturally.

Now you won't see all that I have to lose And all I've lost in the fight to protect it I won't let you in, I swore never again I can't afford, no, I refuse to be rejected

I think this verse refers to the Election and its fallout. He quite literally loses a lot on that day, not only his country and his second life, but seemingly, his son, because Fundy takes down the walls. Wilbur also lost a lot in the Independence War, as he lost his first life in there, his son and allies lost their lives too, and this created the perfect environment for paranoia around trust to form. Wilbur, at this point, swears to not let himself be vulnerable with anyone again, or to fully trust people, because of what happened in the Final Control Room and at the Elections. The last line is Wilbur deciding to go ahead and start Pogtopia, to reclaim his nation. As you may remember, the Election was held so that Wilbur could legitimize his presidency, because he felt people started to not listen to him anymore, and an election, in his mind, would have fixed that. Due to his paranoia, and depression, Wilbur couldn’t afford to lose, because the presidency was one of the things that gave him happiness and helped him function. Once he lost and was banished, he decided to strike back and take back the country, or, as the lyrics say, “I refuse to be rejected”.

I want to break these bones 'til they're better I want to break them right and feel alive You were wrong, you were wrong, you were wrong My healing needed more than time

People who’ve broken a bone before may be familiar with this, but there is a possibility for a broken bone to heal incorrectly, so, when that happens, the bone is broken again and you try again. What that lyric means is that Wilbur was not healing properly, and he was constantly damaging himself again, to restart the process, to make his bones stronger, to make himself better. The “feel alive“ part, in my opinion, goes hand in hand with the fact that Wilbur was... not in the best place mentally in that time. We all know how he died, and, to be honest, a lot of the morally bad things Wilbur did could be argued to have been done to give him something to live, be it thrill or satisfaction. The last two lyrics, I feel, are directed to Tommy; Wilbur needed more than just time to “come back around“, and we know how Season 1 ended.

Now, this may be a controversial take, but... This is the end of Wilbur’s Season 1 arc. I think this is as far as Wilbur’s parallel to Eight went in Season 1, it’s the Pogtopia Era, up to November 16th. You may say that it’s his unfinished son- *gunshots*

Okay, okay, but what does that mean for the rest of the song? Well... It could be that either CC!Wilbur will stop with the Eight parallels here, or, the version I like, it means that the rest of the song is a hint for insight into how Wilbur feels and how his character will change in the future.

When I see fragile things, helpless things, broken things I see the familiar I was little, I was weak, I was perfect, too Now I'm a broken mirror

This is Wilbur recognizing that he is not okay, internally, which we know is a thing in canon, because of this quote from the Resurrection stream: [”Are you trying to- Are you trying to make me- Tommy, are you trying to make me- You remember that time in the cave? Are you trying- Are you trying do- Are you trying to make me feel like I did back then, in Pogtopia? Are you trying to- Are you trying to make me feel as bad as I did back then? ‘Cause it’s not gonna work!” - (Tommy’s Breaking Into Prison To Kill Dream: 59:06, 29th Apr)] It’s a great step for Wilbur, afterall, healing starts when you recognize you have a problem, so you can begin fixing it, but, as we know...

But I can't let you see all that I have to lose All I've lost in the fight to protect it I can't let you in, I swore never again I can't afford to let myself be blindsided

Wilbur is the emotional equivalent of a snail. Here we see “Snailbur” doing a reprise of the third paragraph, which I linked to him in the Election Era and its fallout. From the way the lyrics are worded, we can see the how similar they are, but there is a difference: reluctance. Wilbur knows he’s not okay, but he can’t reach out for help, because then, he’ll be showing weakness, but he wants to open up. “Now” becomes “but”, “I won’t let you in” becomes “I can’t let you in”. Now he’s not afraid of rejection, he doesn’t want to be blindsided, which I didn’t know at first what it meant, because my native language is not English, but when I looked it up I came across this definition: “to surprise someone, usually with harmful results”. This shows us something important: Wilbur is hiding his true feelings because he’s afraid to not be hurt again. He doesn’t want another Final Control Room or Election to happen to him.

I'm standing guard, I'm falling apart And all I want is to trust you Show me how to lay my sword down For long enough to let you through

This set confirms it, Wilbur is on the defense now, he’s defending from potential hurt, and the second part of the first lyric is hinting at what a lot of Wilbur analysts have pointed out and we are prepping for: Wilbur having a big crash from the high he’s experiencing from getting resurrected, he’ll be “falling apart“, he’ll be vulnerable, and open to hurt, or... Redemption. This is it. This is the section that made me insist and theorize about a redemption/healing arc: that second lyric, continuing with the rest: Wilbur is reaching out to someone or some people, that he can put his trust to. Wilbur doesn’t just need someone willing to redeem him, because we had that in Pogtopia, with Tommy, no, Wilbur also needs himself to open up, trust people and ask for help. And that is exactly what happens in the last two lyrics: Wilbur is asking for help to open up and let people help him.

Here I am, pry me open What do you want to know? I'm just a kid who grew up scared enough To hold the door shut And bury my innocence But here's a map, here's a shovel Here's my Achilles' heel

And here we have it. Wilbur opening up. Wilbur finally letting someone in, admitting he’s scared, he’s scared of hurting again, comparing himself to a kid. This one I find very symbolic, because if he, at the beginning, was a kid, then by admitting he is a kid at this stage, he’s the same person he was at the beginning, with the good he had, with the flaws he had, what he did and the trauma he gained will never erase that. The innocence in this part of the song, I think is Ghostbur. People forget, but while Ghostbur seems to be a separate entity, he’s still very much a version of Wilbur. He has a lot of his memories, his happy ones. Wilbur and Ghostbur are the two sides of the same coin, different, yet so much alike. You need both to understand the other. Wilbur has the capacity to be innocent, to be kind, good, he just... buried these qualities, and someone has to help him dig them up, when he is ready to open up. I don’t think I need to explain the meaning of someone showing you their Achilles’ heel, beside the fact that it means they trust you with their life. Wilbur needs to find someone to trust.

I'm all in, palms out I'm at your mercy now and I'm ready to begin I am strong, I am strong, I am strong enough to let you in

Here, I think we see Wilbur accepting the consequences of his actions, of the hurt he caused, because, while he’s not irredeemable, he did hurt people, and he needs to be open to them not forgiving them, but, as the song says, just then he’ll be “ready to begin” his healing and redemption. And right at the end there, “I am strong” is repeated thrice, he’s ready to heal, to be vulnerable with someone. It’s the redemption in full swing from here to the end.

I'ma shake the ground with all my might And I will pull my whole heart up to the surface For the innocent, for the vulnerable And I'll show up on the front lines with a purpose

Remember what I said, about healthy Eights? Champions of the people, natural leaders, challengers of oppression and protectors of the weak? This is what Wilbur should become at the end of the redemption, if we are to follow the song. He’s gonna put all of his strength into fighting for what’s right, and he’ll open up, he will heal. We’ll be back to fighting for “the innocent, for the vulnerable”, he’ll have a purpose to fulfill. L’Manberg was deeply tied to both Wilbur and Ghostbur, and Wilbur himself admitted to caring about L’Manberg because what it stood for. Now, L’Manberg is gone, but those ideals aren’t. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll fight in the future to protect those ideals.

And, finally:

And I'll give all I have, I'll give my blood, give my sweat An ocean of tears will spill for what is broken I'm shattered porcelain, glued back together again Invincible like I've never been

I really like the end here. Because, it’s not only reinforcing the idea that Wilbur will be redeemed, but that penultimate lyric always stood out for me: “I'm shattered porcelain, glued back together again”. Porcelain is, while very fragile, a beautiful material. When I think of the word, I think of beautiful vases, handcrafted with skill and care. It’s a shame when a porcelain vase breaks. But, just because something is broken, it doesn’t mean it can’t be repaired. And when I think of repaired porcelain, I think of the Japanese art of kintsugi - a technique with which broken pottery is glued in such a way that the cracks aren’t hidden, but celebrated as a part of the object’s history, by filling them in with gold. I like to think that at the end of his healing arc, Wilbur will be similar, he was broken, he healed, but the scars are still there, and, even then, he’ll be thriving again. It’ll be an experience that, overall, helped him become better. And the final lyric: “Invincible like I've never been“, I like to think that this will be him at his peak: healed, happy, ready to take life by the horns, like he wasn’t before. It’s a hopeful, happy note to finish the song and his story on.

And that is my analysis on the song and the enneagram, I guess (Jesus this got waaay longer than I expected). I really hope Wilbur will get a redemption arc, it’s already wonderful that we have him back AND he wants to live (it’s honestly the first time I see, in any media, a suicide victim that not only is brought back to life, but they are happy to be back). Hopefully this is useful to people, and, as always, thanks to @kateis-cakeis for compiling Wilbur’s/Ghostbur’s quotes in a masterlist with timestamps and anything you’d want to know about them. It’s a goldmine of analyzing Wilbur and I highly encourage you to check it out.

#dream smp #dsmp #wilbur soot #dsmp wilbur #dream smp analysis #dmp analysis #dream smp character analysis #dsmp character analysis #finally... after 3000 years... the Eight analysis is complete #this took so long I am sorry lmao #now I can go focus on schoolwork #and before someone says it I'll say it #snailbur effervescent

[holylulusworld]

Her substitute (1) - Need you

Title: Her substitute (1)

Summary: Once you were her best friend. Now her widower seeks shelter in your arms.

Square Filled: Cordell Walker

Ship: Cordell Walker x fem!Reader, Cordell Walker x Emily Walker (widowed)

Characters: Stella Walker

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: angst, language, mentions of loss of a loved one, grief, unrequited love, smut, protected sex, scared of feelings, guilt, sneaking around, secret affair

A/N: This is partially an AU. Cordell didn’t go undercover. Emily and the reader’s boyfriend died together on their way to Y/N’s birthday party. And the reader is Cordell’s partner for the sake of my story. His partner from the show will have an appearance either way.

Word Count: 1,7 k

Created for: @walker-bingo​

Her substitute masterlist

2021 Walker Bingo masterlist

Divider by @firefly-graphics​

Once upon a time life was good to you, great even.

Life was all you ever dreamed of. Until. One day. Your world exploded.

One day your best friend, the woman you considered family, and your boyfriend got killed after you tried to arrest an unforgiving man. You and your partner lost the people you love on the same day.

While you tried to pick up the pieces and put your life back together, Cordell preferred to despair, and to use you as an outlet for his pain, grief, and frustration.

He can be gentle and cruel within a heartbeat.

Emily was the love of his life but Jason was just someone you spend your days with to fill your empty life. Sometimes he calls you cold or heartless only as you gave Jason’s belongings to the Salvation Army after one year of grieving. 

Cordell can never know the reason for your fast recovery���he can never know…

“I need you—“ it always starts with these three words, followed by a desperate look and his hands. God his large hands reach out for you to touch, caress and grope. “Baby Girl.”

“We talked about this, Cordell,” you weakly press your hands against his chest, shaking your head ever so slightly. “I can’t do this. We are partners and she was my best friend.”

“Didn’t stop you from fucking her widower not six months after she got killed,” here we go. The sweet and desperate Cordell is gone, replaced by a blank nerve wanting to hurt and drag you down. “Only as you got over Jason like he meant nothing to you doesn’t mean I can just stop grieving.”

“Then why do you come here to fuck me?” he takes off his cowboy hat, nervously playing with it. “Cordell, we shouldn’t do this. It’s no good for you or me. What if your kids find out?”

“All I can think about is to have you underneath me, pinned to the mattress and my cock so deep inside it hurts,” he drops his hat, steps over it to grasp for you. “I want you, baby girl.”

“Shit—” pinned to the wall seconds later you find yourself falling for your best friend’s widower all over again. It’s not a secret you were in love with Cordell before Emily even met him. He just never showed interest in asking you out and when Emily came into the picture, you backed off like the good friend you were.

“Say you need me,” he buries his face in your neck, inhales your scent deeply. “Baby girl, tell me that you need me and that you want to feel me.”

“Cordell, fuck baby,” you whimper his name, ignore the guilt eating your soul up once again. All you can focus on are his hands grip your waist to hoist you up, holding you midair until you sling your legs around his waistline hands cradling his face to kiss him deeply. “I need you.” It’s not a lie. You always needed him; he just didn’t know it.

“I need you too,” he kisses you fiercely, almost desperate to forget all the pain and his empty bed at home when he tugs at your clothes or moans your name. “Give in, baby girl.”

You are a mess, both of you. While you let Cordell strip you bare, not just your body but your soul and heart, he pants, moans, and whines on top of you.

It doesn’t take long for him to slide into you and pin your hands above your head to make sure you know this isn’t love-making.

Two sides of the very same coin hit you where it hurts the most. Every. Single. Time. He doesn’t take his time to be gentle and loving. Its raw, unadulterated lust driving him into you.

“Fuck, baby girl,” he watches your lips part and your eyes dilate when he starts to move his hips. “Look at me.” It’s a command you follow immediately. He holds your wrists pinned to the mattress to make sure you can't touch him gently. “Good girl, always so good for me.”

“Cordell, you need to—” his lips kiss your protest away, force moans and tiny whimpers out of you. “Please.”

“Just tell me you need me as much as I need you, Y/N,” he finally says your name, not baby girl, and you nod, ashamed you let the widower of your best friend fuck you like a whore on cheap sheets.

“I need you,” you choke the words out, looking away, not wanting to hold his gaze when the familiar burn is back, the one pushing you violently over the edge only to leave you hollow in the end.

“Look at you, so responsive,” his hands finally let go of your wrists to roughly cup your breasts. His thumbs toy with your nipples leave them hard and throbbing. “Those tits, so pretty,” he dives in, suckles one nipple into his hot mouth to push you closer to the edge.

He moves slow, deliberate, plays your body like an instrument. You are in trance, only feel his body press yours to the mattress, mind blank once again.

Another deep thrust makes you moan his name loudly. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you grasp for his shoulders to bring Cordell closer to your heated body to hold him, even if it’s only for this fleeting moment. “Cordell.”

“So tight and warm for me,” his hands grip your thighs to spread you wider. He loves to watch his huge cock disappear in your pussy, the one only he owns. “You take me so well and deep, baby girl.”

You cry out in pleasure, back arching off the bed when his cock hits that spot taking your breath away. His large hands cup your ass, squeeze it tightly.

Cordell holds himself inside your body, stops moving to feel you clench tightly around his thick length. Just staring down at you.

“Cord, what’s wrong?” you whimper breathlessly. 

“Just wanted to feel you cum before I fill this cunt up,” his pace becomes brutal after your orgasm.

He moans, eyes glued to your face as he tries to pretend you are only a warm body he can use, a toy to fulfill a primal need, not the woman he could fall for…

“Oh—” you watch him move on top of you, memorize his features, the way his hair is glued to his sweaty forehead, and those obscene veins in his arms, popping out. “I want you to cum, let me feel it, Cordell. Fuck me.”

“Fuck, you—shit Y/N,” he groans, hips jerking violently before he allows himself to let go. 

When it’s over he rolls off you to dispose of the condom, already looking for his clothes on the floor.

You have a routine. He comes to your apartment, convinces you to let him fuck you, and leaves you alone and cold moments after your high.

Tonight, you wrap yourself into a sheet and turn around to not watch Cordell hastily put his clothes back on. You would give the world for him to stay the night, but you know he will leave soon.

As usual, you take deep breaths to hide the tears forming in your eyes. “Thank you,” he says, and you feel like a fool all over again.

“I got a job offer in New York,” you casually say. “Do you remember? I always wanted to be with the FBI. Three years ago, they didn’t have a position for me, but last week, I got a call.”

“Oh—” is all you get. You can hear the ruffling of clothing, and then the door opens. “You should take their offer. Being my partner is a dead end. A girl like you shouldn’t stay a Texas Ranger,” the coldness in his voice breaks your heart.

“Yeah, maybe I should,” you clear your throat while you try not to cry. “I will call them on Monday. Have a great—” the door closes before you can say another word. “Figures…”

“FBI?” Stella blanches. “You want to go to New York to work with the FBI, Y/N?” she cries. “You can’t leave me too. Why is everyone leaving me?”

“Stella bear, nothing is decided yet,” you sit next to her on the steps, patting her thigh. “They called me two weeks ago, and I just thought I should at least fly to New York to talk to them. Don’t you think?”

“I don’t know,” she sniffles. “What did dad say? You are his partner, Y/N. He needs you,” you sling one arm around Stella’s shoulders, hiding she just added another crack to your fragile heart. “We need you. You are family to us. Mom loved you.”

“I loved your mom too, Stella bear,” giggling at the awful nickname Stella leans her head against your shoulder, and you feel the guilt overwhelm you once again. If only the girl knew you are banging her father. “She was my best friend and your dad is my friend too.”

“Y/N?” Cordell walks toward his house with long steps. “Is there an emergency? Do you need my help? It’s Sunday.”

“Your mom invited me for dinner, and I met Stella in town and drove her home. If you don’t want me here, I understand,” you try to keep the sadness out of your voice.

“Grandma wants a family dinner, dad,” Stella grumbles. “If I must spend time with my lame brother and you, I want Y/N to join us. At least she’s cool.”

“Cool?” Cordell smirks, glancing down at you. “I remember there was a time when she had braces and was a shy little mouse.”

“Y/N shy? I don’t believe a single word, dad,” she nudges your side. “Right, Y/N. You never were shy.”

“I hate to admit it, but I was a little shy. Your mom helped me break out of my shell and become the woman I am today. I miss her,” you sniff, watching Cordell sit next to his daughter. 

“Emily, she always talked about you. How you helped her get better grades,” Cordell says. “She loved you too, Y/N.”

When you sit at his table half an hour later, watching Cordell with his family you decide your last encounter was the last time. You won’t risk messing his family up even more...

“We can’t do this again, Cordell,” you sigh when he leans in your doorframe, that look in his eyes again. “I told you after the dinner with your family we should stay only friends.”

“Y/N, we are friends but—” he cups your cheek with one hand, thumb swiping over your lips, “I need you, baby girl…”

>> Part 2

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#Her substitute (1) - Need you #cordell walker #cordell x reader #walkerbingo #cordell walker x reader #cordell walker fanfiction #cordell walker x fem!reader #smut #grief #loss of a loved one