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numberonetrashwitch · 8 months

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Some observations about Baldurs Gate 3 that hit too close to home.

After another few runs i will probably just make an in-Depth Character Analysis for every character simply because they are good reflections of actual trauma-manifestations and how abuse can manifest in people. They are also so well written that it serves a narrative purpose to explore all the material that is out there about them. I am also personally cursed with actual medically-relevant levels of Empathy and Hyperfixation; so writing this helps me put a pin in it and move on.

But so far here are my highlights

(SPOILERS and obviously content warning bc these are deep)

before you ask; i have almost 300h in this game.

You have to convince Shadowheart to eat the Noblestalk. She actually stells you she rather get her memories back from Shar but when you hit the persuasion or intimidation (what the fuck) check to get her to eat it she'll tell you about her childhood friend. Not her name, not her parents but her best firend. Possibly because she has had a closer bond to that person after being abducted and indoctrinated. With her believing herself to be an orphan, she would've looked elsewhere for comfort and sought out her own family, this is why she falls hard and heavy for Shar and builds the backbone of her indoctrination. She is literally ripped out of her home & given a new identity to server her from all she has known. Religious indoctrination, Gaslighting, Abduction, being forced to let go of your personality are her main themes.

There is a scene out there floating around in which you see Astarions pespective of the night when he bites Tav for the first time, in his meditations he is confronted with the rules Cazador put on him, including that he can't eat intelligent creatures, can't be away from Cazador unless allowed to, has to obey every command and that they are should know that they are property. Which in turn means that Astarion literally didn't just have any autonomy, he was objectified (and not just through seductive/sexual measures) and that is really the crux to understanding why he doesn't believe in kindness, but rather shows self-serving behavior in most cases. Since we know that Astarion was extremely young for an elf before he died and became immortal (literally stopping the aging /maturing process) it is also very telling that Cazador constantly calls him brat, boy or other very juvanile names, refering to them as a family... well it is also the story of a very controlling parent. Themes of (Bodily) autonomy, infantilization ( & puer aeternus, forever-child), slavery, depersonalisation, corruption of life and torture to break someone.

Gale isn't just a guy hung up on his Ex, but also a victim of abuse. In this case a power imbalance none of us can fathom; She is described as being a jealous goddess and rules over the domain of mysteries and magic. So with Gale being a Wizard, she is literally his boss. He admits that he was foolish enough to aspire to be an equal to her, but she is so jealous that she tells him he can't really be worthy as long as he takes breath. She could just take his powers away and be done with it, that would be more than enough punishment for a guy who literally made Mystra and her domain his life's purpose, but she rather makes him do it himself. Add to that, that she literally only tells him this after years of self-isolation (after he put down so many wards that he could've blown up a whole army as he says if you click the right dialogue) to really fuck him up well. He also talks about death pretty much constantly, not surprising giving your situation, but he will tell you that he will kill himself at several points in the game, for instance after he comes clear about his nethrese orb. Themes of romantic abuse, power-imbalance, toxic work enviorment, self-isolating behavior, suicidal ideation

Wyll ... well from the looks of it he is the most well adjusted of all the companions (my opinion) but he has something that i'd describe as the "eldest daughter"-syndrome, more commonly known as parentification. This pattern usually occurs within single-household parents and is commonly described as a parent looking to their child for emotional or practical support, rather than providing it to their kid. We meet Ulder and see that he talks over Wyll a lot, not listening but expecting him to follow the standard he sets for him. That is also why Wyll repeats his fathers words like gospel (because this is what, in his mind, fullfills the expectations bestowed upon him) and why he loves fairytales / bard tales so much (because they are an ecapist view of the job he set out to do) Ulder literally exiled his teenage son because Wyll did the only thing he could to save an entire city, by sacrificing himself. Thats a lot to expect from a 17 year old - even more so, he doesn't stop with the heroics. He expects himself, as a human who hasn't even reached the age of 30 to hold up to mystical creatures such as Astarion or Karlach, or even Gale who is a accomplished Wizard. Themes of parentification, escapism, self-harming through putting himself in danger, chronic-self-sacrifice

In plain words; Gortash, Karlach's Idol sold her to a Devil. But add to that that she must have been pretty young when she was sold (late teens to early twenties possibly) and being that if you play as a Tiefling, you face a lot of predjudice she was likely forced into that position as well. Starstruck she was, with a juvenile naitivy that Gortash used. Appropriately, as he is the chosen of Bane the god of "tyrannical oppression, terror, and hate, known across Faerûn as the face of pure evil through malevolent despotism" (Source: Forgotten-Realms Wiki / Bane) So she pretty much was raised in a toxic enviorment, which forced her to become a killing-machine, first figuretively, then with the extraction of her heart, literally. Themes of slavery, oppression, misuse of trust, being taken advantage by a more powerful/older(?) person, being drafted.

Jaheira - to be honest, you need to know the lore of the previous baldurs gate games or just listen to her dialouge, ask her all the questions. She is a war-veteran against Bhaal, the good of ritual murder, and has a long history of fighting to achieve some sort of balance of power. She lost her husband and several close people all to this, or any other war, but due to her wisdom and strength people look to her for guidance. Themes of: Survivors Guilt.

Halsin - he is really closed off at first but then just casually hits you with "i was captured in the underdark and spent 3 years chained to a bedroom wall by a pair of drows who used me as they pleased". He is reprimanded by some of his druids for leaving the grove as soon as opportunity struck, just to get back and leave the next day, and if you talk to him about his position in the grove he is actually very forthcomming. He actively holds himself back; indulging in simple hobbies because he knows what lies within his heart. He is afraid of himself and his potential (canonnically he can't control his wildshape, which is very weird for an ARCH-druid) Themes of: impostor syndrome, avoidant-based self-harm, sexual opression, loss of control, emotional regulation.

Lae'zel is a very tragic case, and one that closely resembles the stories of Shadowheart and Karlach. Her entire existence is based upon a matriachial war society allowing her to live if she proves she can be of use and that in a culture which only values brutality, dominance & service. All of that culimating in her finding out that her oh-so-beloved Queen is actually just an imposter, and that everything she has lived for up to that point is merely political propaganda created to make her, and the rest of her entire species, willing pawns in a war that has no longer bearing on their survival alone, but is fought to justify Vlaakith's (the reigning monarchs) personal ambitions. Not only is she forced to reconcile that she is turned into the thing that controlled her kind for hundreds of years, that the only cure she knows of would kill her and then on top of that, that her hopes and dreams were lies and that she is now the Nr 1 enemy of the person she has served with all her being. themes of: oppression, propaganda, casual violence, objectification, child-warfare, eternal warfare

Minthara in short, her story is about being shamed for growing up in the same scenario that Lae'zel grew up in. Lolth, the god of the Lolth-sworn drows is a crazy queen who values scheming & backstabbing so much and is so volatile that you can't know what to expect of your deeds (and i mean it; there were people who were appraised by her for scheming against her, but also those who were killed. It's almost random.) She considers Lolth to be cruel and abandoned her for the Absolute, only to then be used and abused the same way Lae'zel has. Not with promises, but erasing her memory and exposing her perceived weakness. Themes of: casual violence, violent culture, her own ambition colliding with her desire to be safe, being a pawn in a larger game.

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atyourmerci · 2 months

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† Salvation †

Read pt.1 and pt.2

†

Summary: finale of repent series! Drabble of abby and readers life after abby comes to terms with her sexuality. Happy ever after lesbos<3

Warnings: smut, MDNI, switch!abby, switch!reader, religion play of course, strap usage, refers to strap as cock, cunnilingus, overstimulation, bondage, smnophilia, dirty talk yurrrr, some fluff

A/N: thank you so much for all of the love on this series!! Religious guilt/trauma is a tricky subject and I’m glad that I was able to portray it in a light that most of you could relate or sympathize with. And yall im so bad at writing fluff that’s why this is so short lmao that’s why I only write smut. I’m so excited to write through more niche experiences and topics. Love you like always<3

†

That night was nothing like the first. Your God showed mercy, wrapping your cold, shaky body with cloth and carrying you to where it all started.

This time she held you and never left, she was there was the sun came beaming down, drying out your soaked hair. While you were asleep she had removed her cross and strung it along your neck. Maybe there was no need hold a token of a god she had already met, maybe she wanted everyone else to know- you never cared to question her antics.

After your mission had ended she immediately broke things off with Owen, reclaimed herself within the community. And she for one took no shit with the commentary from anyone about the two of you. Her life mission was to protect you at all costs now, you were all she knew. She wouldn’t leave your side anymore. Anything you did she made sure she was there to protect you, she wouldn’t put your life in anyone else’s hands but her own.

There was a lot of things you had to teach Abby, and by teach, that meant showing her with your legs wide open. On a mission you both were sent out on to look for resources you ran across a run down sex shop. You found a girthy dildo with black leather straps, it was bigger than anything you’d ever taken but with the look of excitement on Abby’s face you couldn’t say no to her. You told her you could use it on her but she insisted on fucking you right there over the counter at the dusty sex shop. She wasted no time dragging your pants down to your ankles and ripping your panties seams to get inside, ”I’d tell you to suck my cock first but you’re so fucking wet already, how bad have you wanted this,hmmm?” She promised she’d go slow, walking you through it, “fuck you’re doing so good, taking me so well for your first time.” After your pain had been replaced with sheer pleasure she couldn’t hold back anymore, pumping into you so hard there was sure to be bruises all over your hips. After abusing your hole for an hour for her own amusement she finally let you cum while drawing circles around your swollen clit as she pounded deep and slow thrust into you. you were so cockdrunk she had to carry you back to the truck and finish the mission herself, it went by quickly as she imagined things she could do to you next with her cock.

She loved showering with you at night, she never let you lift a finger, washing your body gently after sneaking in the strap into the showers. Maybe it was because she learned how to fuck you in the showers that it made her so dominant in that environment. She wouldn’t let you touch her in there even after you begged her while she pinned your arms against the wall, overstimulating your clit over and over again until she was done with you. After she’d run you a bath and hold your fragile body as she ran soapy strips up and down your bruised skin, making sure to kiss every inch so that never missed an atom of your being.

Abby only regressed back into her old ways when she let you take complete control. She’d let you tie her to the bed you shared edging her till she was in tears, babbling prayers to climax. You’d tie her cross necklace around her clit and tug on it while you used your tongue to fuck her dripping hole. You’d only let her cum after she got on her knees like a whore eating away at your cunt while you shamed her for her sins.

Your life with abby wasn’t like anything you’d ever experienced before, but there was no before her, or after her. There was only your god, and hers.

Maybe she had still repented for her sins, maybe she had reached salvation at the mercy of your own sins.

Taglist: @wishbones999 @bookpagecandlescent @littlegingerperson2 @lanafresitas @lookforthelight1 @fict1onallyobsessed

#abby anderson #abby anderson smut #the last of us #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby angst #abby the last of us #abby tlou #sub abby

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catholic-character-tournament · 11 months

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Round 1 - Side B

firestar art by @kudos-si-do

Propaganda below ⬇️

Kirei

He fucked up so many people's lives so badly in just one decade (not on purpose) that the universe put him in the summoning pool of all world influencing souls. He doesnt really have any special powers but he does serve as a vessel for rasputin at one point. He's the guy who says "people die when they are killed"

please please please there's literally a type moon character in the gif on the top of this form so it's typemoonphobic if none of them get in but it shouldn't be her it should be kirei bc he's 50x funnier & more iconic than jeanne. funny lil murder priest who's fucking THE gilgamesh (from the epic of) in the church basement and dies in a knife fight w a 17 year old whose dad he wanted to fuck back in '94 before realizing that he was actually kinda lame and he's been bitter abt it ever since. he has an orphan torture factory in his basement but he's also canonically good at being a priest. he's so funny you should def try his mapo tofu i swear it's totally safe for human consumption and not made with any california reapers. did i mention he's a deadbeat dad.

Priest claims to be Pro Life to make Sakura Matou the most miserable girl on the planet, but he dies anyway.

bro became a catholic because he loves suffering

He’s a priest. Kind of. Not a very good priest obviously. There is something seriously wrong and fucked up with that man. It’s so entertaining.

he's gotta be one of the most insane catholic men ever with a very in-depth and interesting relationship with his religion and his relationship with god also he's the sexiest man ever to be conceptualized in the known universe and all of time

Will never forget the 40+ minute monologue in heavens feel being a thinly veiled metaphor for abortion

he wants to torment churchgoers and make them face their failures and suffering but all he ends up doing is motivate them to improve themselves. cringefail moment for him

he's absolutely insane. the coldhearted mercenary that barely reacts to anything is terrified of kirei. he's super fucked up. his ult in stay night is literally him channeling divine power into something called kyrie eleison. he's the vessel of rasputin (on account of being a priest with a huge....no i shant say) the biblical beast in grand order among other things. he gets drunk with and tops gilgamesh from the epic of gilgamesh in the church basement after gilgamesh from the epic of gilgamesh bats his eyes a little too hard at kirei in some of the horniest shot scenes ive ever seen. he also used to be a heretical "fixer" for the church, cleaning up scenes that would expose shit to the public. uhh what else. he holds cool swords between his fingers like a kid pretending to be wolverine but in my favorite route he just squares the hell up with the protagonist and they fight to the death outside planned parenthood

Firestar

Kitty jesus, he believes in starclan which is the kitty version of heaven/god and yea. All the warrior cats characters except those outside the clans or those that are atheist believe in the kitty heaven and would irl be bri-ish and christian as hell so. The authors are all older british christian women and so the way starclan is written is like undoubtedly that.

The main religion in the series is extremely catholic coded. Most clan cats believe in Starclan and the Dark Forest(or heaven and hell). There is a set of rule they must uphold and follow, where following them leads to heaven and breaking them leads to hell. Their religious leaders are sworn to celibacy, and the punishments that "code breakers"(or cats who break the rules) face are extremely similar to situations people with religious trauma have gone through.

OP notes: apparently converted to avoid getting his balls cut?? Idk. The discord yet wild for firestar so I had to include him because it's hilarious hehehe

#kirei kotomine #fate series #firestar #warriors #warrior cats #cct polls #tumblr tournament #tumblr bracket #tumblr polls

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pupcuck · 5 months

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ROTTEN LUCK !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. smut, kidnapping, leon is like mentally gone icl, references to past assault and trauma, non-con, manipulation, suicidal thoughts/reference to an attempt, general leon self destructive behaviour, physical abuse, power dynamics, throatfucking, choking, breath play, somno, 1 instance of drugging, unmentioned age gap, anal, he puts duct tape on your pussy ok just once promise it’s not bad, religious references, 1 mention of vomit and piss not in a sexual way, slight misogyny, panic attack

tumblr has started to remove fics that use tw non-con, tw incest and any nsfw tags in general. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags so i can have the same reach as other authors, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

anyway, please ignore typos :3 rbs and feedback is very appreciated :3 my medical knowledge sucks, so keep in mind that all of this is off LMFAO crossposted to ao3 (user clitkiss)

two

Lucky. Leon hates that word. He wasn’t lucky to get out of Raccoon City, he was just barely capable, you have to be unlucky to get into that situation in the first place. You’re a lucky guy, Redfield had told him once, Chris not Claire. Claire isn’t daft. And Leon wonders what is so lucky about him. He’s forty-six and all he’s got is his trusty Matilda, his mother’s old Bible, and a failing liver. His luck is preordained by God and it’s a total sham.

Leon Kennedy’s the one who showed up to drill sessions smelling like sweat and cock. Kennedy’s the one that rolls over onto his front and takes it like a good doggy. Kennedy’s green behind the ears, pretty in the face, and that don’t fare well in a boot camp full of men twice his size. Kennedy’s the one brushing shoulders with the President, got the USA’s most prized dick in his mouth and everyone knows that he wouldn’t dare bite down. Golden boy Leon fucking Scott Kennedy would just go ahead and use his tongue to clean up Graham’s ballsack. And you’re calling that lucky? Bullshit.

The DSO’s modus operandi is strikingly similar to that of the BSAA. He is but a cog in a well oiled machine. There’s one difference, not a dog tag to his name. If he dies, then he’ll die nameless, and he’ll be cremated by something nuclear, and it’ll all be for nothing. Ain’t that just the luckiest thing you’ve ever heard?

He has tried to kill himself once or twice or thrice. He lost count after the fifth. The gun jammed once, a bad joke. Left Matilda rendered useless. Was meant to be him, not her. And if Leon’s being honest, every day is an avid attempt, as in the drinking and praying his liver gives out. Once he managed to get halfway there. Doesn’t remember a lot. Just blood. Lots of blood. Why couldn’t you be quiet about your grief, Leon? Claire’s expression had asked, how I am, how Chris is, how Jill is.

‘Cause he couldn’t. He had to go ahead and splatter his grief all over the linoleum floor. Maybe then someone would find him, and they’d mourn him, and they’d feel sorry for him ‘cause he’d pitied himself enough. Leon told her a joke, yapping away like one of those butterscotch lapdogs. Claire said that in South Korea you’re allowed to snip a dog's vocal cords to stop them from barking. Lucky I’m not in South Korea then. She handed him an orange prescription bottle with his name scrawled on it, and that was that. They didn’t speak for a few months.

Once upon a time Sherry needed him, now he needs her more. Needs her to laugh at his jokes, she’s the only one that does. And he needs her to tell him, I love you, Leon. She’s the only one that says that. No one puts up with him like Sherry does. She puts up with him in the way most women do their fathers. Love their dads unconditionally and nothing can ever fix that. Terrible illness that is. So, yeah, Leon Scott Kennedy is far from lucky. Lonely? Oh, for sure. God. He’s so lonely he feels sorry for himself. That’s one thing Leon has always been good at though. Lending himself a shoulder ‘cause no one else will.

His fingers brush yours in the record store. The hairs on the back of his neck stand. Jesus. Is it getting that bad? Leon’s been without a fuck for a few months and he’s already itching. That’s a new low. When Leon looks up to catch sight of who made his dick swell with their fingertips, he catches your eye briefly. A mousy little thing. Easily spooked it seems by the nervous smile you give him.

You’re on the phone, I don’t know what he likes anymore, dad, yeah—I’m trying to find it—Yes, I know who sang Sex and Candy, dad, Kurt Cobain right? Is that the one he likes? Dumbass. No, I’m not wrong, could you put mom on the phone—Hi mom, yes, I know he’s my brother, mom—Ever since he turned fifteen he stopped talking to me properly—I don’t know what she thinks, mom—

A mommy, daddy, a brother, a sister too he assumes. You’re what they call lucky. Nasty undertone you’re using with your parents. If Leon’s mom was still around he’d talk to her so sweet. She’d tell him to pray and Leon wouldn’t resist. Alright, Ma, Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus Tecum— then his voice would trail off, and he’d pretend to mouth the rest of the hymn ‘cause he remembers fuck all.

He wants to knock you around. Shake you till your brains scramble. Wants you to flinch even when he’s being nice. Leon’s nostrils flare when you raise your voice in the slightest, even if it’s playful, it’s plain rude. How dare you? He can’t even begin to fathom how incredibly lucky you are. The thought crosses Leon’s mind once, twice, thrice. Just how suicide did that day back in September. If you can kidnap the President’s daughter from her bustling college campus, throw her over your shoulder like salt, why can’t you kidnap Miss Nobody from a street corner in D.C?

Your figure is distinguished by a single, flickering street lamp. He sees your shadow. Recognises the silhouette by the shapely legs and how your belted coat flares out to create a dramatic hourglass, Leon’s got a good eye for detail. Oh, it’s kinda sexy watching you in the spotlight, like a makeshift cabaret show, go on babe, bust out the flapper dress, he knows his stuff, he read Gatsby back in high school. He listens out for the tap of your heeled boots, click-clack, click-clack, there you are, you don’t even know what’s about to happen, do you? And it really is that easy. Just like throwin’ salt over your shoulder.

Temazepam, loprazolam, lormetazepam, diazepam, nitrazepam. Some melatonin too. Magnesium’s supposed to help with insomnia. How’s he supposed to know what your body reacts to best? Leon’s not your fuckin’ GP. Chloroform does the trick for everyone. Should’ve invited you out for drinks and roofied you instead.

Leon had gone for an old-fashioned method, listen, he was desperate. He doesn’t usually resort to such bruteish tactics unlike the older Redfield, not that Chris would use a morsel of his strength to harm a lady, but it had to be done. Yes, he choked you out. No, he’s not proud of it. He’s actually pretty disappointed in his lack of preparation. Oh, cut yourself some slack, Kennedy, it’s your first time kidnapping someone, and it was a heat of the moment type thing. To Leon’s dismay, that doesn’t last long, duh, he should know better.

While you regain sluggish consciousness on his couch, Leon’s tearing through his kitchen cabinets for anything to settle you down. Ah. That’s right. Ketamine. Ain’t it horse tranquilliser? What’s that doing here? Honestly, he’s got to stop raiding the infirmary for all they’ve got. A high enough dosage will knock you out for sure. If it kills you, then so be it. Beer for guys, wine for the ladies, and Ketamine for random sluts he picks up on street corners.

You’re blinking to clear your hazy vision, feeling around your crushed windpipe to assess the damage, he leans over you like a nurse from hell. The needle breaks your skin easily, so tender, before you have the chance to kick up a fuss, your eyelids turn to lead and close like a toy babydoll’s do when you lean them back.

Fifteen to twenty minutes, google says. Leon gets down to business, strips you of your clothing, takes you to his room, throws you on the king-sized bed that’s warmed only by him. He kept your panties on. They’re light blue and sensible briefs. A buzzer rings out in his head, bzzzt, boring. A million bitches in D.C. and he picked out the most vanilla one. Just his Kennedy luck ain’t it.

One minute. Leon presses his nose to the fabric of your panties, sniffs like a pig does in its trough, isn’t that just the sweetest smell? Fresh cunt. He licks up the print of your pussy, tongue landing on the hardness of your clit.

Five minutes. With your panties soaked with Leon’s spit, he decides to move ‘em to the side, and he groans in delight when he parts your cushioned lips to find that you’re stickier than toffee pudding, drooly cunt reactive to the pads of his fingers, to the tip of his tongue. He pushes back the hood of your bud, gives it a kiss, then another.

Ten minutes. He’s opened you up, gaped you around three thick fingers, Jesus, you’re so tight. It’s like your cunt’s vacuum sealed. Leon’s fingers prod at the squishy opening of your cervix, his thumb circles your clit, presses down like a button and he’s rewarded with another gush of slick. Beer on tap.

You rouse from your forced slumber at fourteen minutes. Huh. He’ll have to up the dosage next time. “Hi there, sleepin’ beauty.” Leon says in a rather cloying voice, amping up the sweetness when in reality he is less than fond of you. The lucky girl. He strokes your head soothingly, hovers over you to keep you in place. The panic sets in almost immediately, flailing limbs, asinine attempts at sentences that crawl up your throat and spill over. Who are you, get off me, get off me, please. What did I do? I’m sorry, please, let me go, let me go, please, I’ll do anything. Albeit your words are slurred, Leon chooses not to hear you.

“Aintcha just the sweetest thing?” He cups your cheeks, gaze so gentle it’s disarming. “I opened you up, didn’t wanna break ya, just wanted you to wake up before we got it on, I’m a real gentleman, you see.” Before he rapes you, he makes sure to ask: you got a rubber by any chance, sweetheart? Oh, and you don’t like that, you really don’t. ‘Cause your face falls fast like a drop tower ride.

The chance to scream is lost on you when he shoves his fingers in your mouth, pushes them down your burning throat till you choke and drool in an unflattering manner. Your jaw is too lax to clamp down on him. Leon takes this opportunity to smear his leaky, fat tip over your folds, pushes past the barriers of resistance and slides into your pre-gaped cunt. Lucky bitch. Lucky fucking bitch. Getting yourself a piece of Leon S. Kennedy’s dick. He reserves that for only the finest ladies, aka any girl that has a nice set of tits and dark hair, greying roots are a new preference.

He’s fully sheathed inside of you, head rubbing painfully against your cervix. Bruising it from the look of discomfort on your face as you make stupid-sounding noises around his fingers. “Fuck, yeah, that hits the spot.” When’s the last time Leon had his way with a girl, wanton fucking, pulling hair, slapping— they all want it soft and sappy these days. And so did he up until a certain point. Up until he tried to kill himself maybe. Something must’ve flipped in his brain, now he’s overcome with the need to mess your pretty face up.

Leon’s forehead presses to your clammy one, your sweat is salty on his tongue when he kisses your cheek. Slightly sour scent, ugh, what’s he saying? Acting like he’s a fear-smelling B.O.W or some shit. Fuck off, Kennedy. His hips aim upwards when your body shifts due to the thrashing you’re doing, with each thrust he bottoms out with a wet squelch, rolls his hips into you at a force that knocks any chance of breath out of you.

“If you were a good girl,” Leon smiles, all teeth. They glint in the muddy darkness of his room, black-out curtains drawn so not even the moon gets to see what he’s doing to you, “then I’d be fuckin’ you real slow, real nice, rub that little clit till you came.” Your wrists are both cuffed within his grip, pinned over your head as he drives into you, as if his intention is to tear straight through you.

The heat in his gut uncoils, but he’s timed himself well enough, pulls out ‘cause god forbid he knocked you up. Knowing Leon’s luck he’d manage it. Then he puts his cock in your mouth, “I got some pliers out back.” He says in warning as he jerks the shaft and your lips hesitantly close around the tip when he gives you a mean look. Total lie by the way, no matter how abnormal Leon is he does not own a pair of tooth-pulling pliers. Shoots his load down your throat, you splutter and push at his abdomen to get him off.

He pulls out in his own time, lays beside you. All of his chakras are aligned. Apparently there’s seven, but Leon’s only got two. And they’re entirely dependent on whether he’s sucked and fucked till he’s thoroughly satisfied. By god he is. Benedicta tu in mulieribus, Et benedictus fructus ventris tui, Iesus. That’s the rest of it right. He remembers now. You might just be his saving grace, Lucky Girl. His very own Sancta Maria, Mater dei. Damn, you hear that, ma? Leon’s got it down to a T. Maybe some more pussy will get him singing out the rest of the prayer. He can get rid of that statuette on the mantle, swap it out with you.

He doesn't get a word out by the time you’re vomiting a vile mixture of acidic yellow and his seed down the front of your chest. Retching as you choke on the gift he’d given you.

Leon takes you to the bathroom, forces you into the shower cubicle as he sprays you down, not even waiting for the water to go warm. “Dry yourself off,” he gestures mildly to where there’s a few towels stored.

You don’t come back out of the bathroom for five minutes, then ten, then twenty. Don’t even answer when he knocks. Goddammit, Leon. Leave your kidnap victim alone in the room with all the razors, why don’t you? Fucking idiot. When he opens the door, you’re huddled in the corner by the toilet, dry heaving into the bowl and sitting in a puddle of your own piss. Stupid fucking baby. Is this what kids are like these days? When he was your age he made it out of Raccoon City alive, and no one made it out of there. No one lived to tell that story. And you’re here pissing your pants ‘cause he’s given you a nice, hard fucking? He pimp slaps you so hard your teeth clatter.

It takes two weeks for his Lucky Girl to be broken in. Not as long as he expected, so he’s pleased. And when Leon’s pleased, he’s nice. So today you get some screen time. You’re curled into his side, the way a baby bird does under its mother’s wing, squinting at his sixty-five inch TV, egregious really, who needs a screen that big? He’s flipping periodically through the channels whenever an ad break comes on. The 7.45PM news is on. He settles on that and you watch mindlessly, no objections.

The speech blurs like white noise to him, Leon’s not focused until your picture pops up on screen, and he just turns to you with this shit-eating grin. Graduation cap and robe on, all dolled up as you make eyes at him through the screen.

“Baby,” he grins wolfishly, ruffles your hair in a teasing manner, “you look so damn cute there!” Leon watches bright-eyed, suddenly enthralled, they list your name, your height, your weight, all stuff he actually didn’t know ‘bout you. Never bothered to ask. You don’t need a name, you’re just his Lucky Girl. “Don’t like the red lip on you,” he comments flippantly, “A red lip is for whores, don’t you think, baby?”

He was right. You got a daddy, a mommy, a brother and a sister. You’ve got it all. Lucky fucking Girl. A broken sob is torn from your throat, jagged and scratchy as you fling yourself halfway across the room, on your knees as you put your grubby fingers all over his shiny screen. Leon lets you. He finds it hilarious actually. Who’d you think you are? Carol Anne from Poltergeist? Like you’re gonna get sucked into the screen, crawling out the other end like Sadako, back into your daddy’s arms.

Our daughter—My girl, she had her whole life ahead of her—My sister wouldn’t do this—She was so excited to move on after graduation—She’s not the type to run away—My daughter—My sister—Our sister—

Your mother is a mess, barely able to get words out with the way she’s blubbering. “She’s layin’ it on a bit thick, don’t you think, babe?” Leon picks up his beer from the side table, slightly heated under the burn of the lamp. “You look like your daddy, cry pretty like your mama though.”

You stare at him horrified. Jaw hanging open as if it’s unhinged, not in the way a snake does when ready to swallow its prey whole. More in the way of a screaming corpse. When the rigor mortis has worn off, secondary flaccidity sets in, and the mandible drops open. Jeez, tough crowd tonight it seems. Don’t make him sew your mouth up, Lucky Girl. Leon wouldn’t dare, that mouth, that throat is precious to him.

CCTV footage plays on the screen, another sob racks your brittle frame, you didn’t know it was him that day, Leon realises. “Oh, baby, that’s where we met, ain’t that funny?” A blurry image of you on the phone, prattling away to your family like the Lucky Girl you are, he’s just out of shot.

We miss her—Please, if you know anything, if you find anything—Please—

“God, let me get my phone, darling, they look so upset I can’t stand it. I might have to call them up and turn myself in. Give ‘em an early Christmas gift, don’t you think?” If Leon went missing, who would look for him? Hunnigan with all her sharp edges, or Claire with her unwilling loyalty to him? Lucky Bitch. It’s making his temper flare, that’s enough TV time for today.

The screen fades out, goes black when he switches it off. “No, no, no,” you chant, “no, no, no, no, please, please—“

“I’m disappointed in you, baby.” Leon says honestly, sips his beer and laughs mirthlessly. “I thought you’d started to like me.”

You’re not listening, too busy fitting on the rug, grasping at the screen as if you can pluck your family out of it and reunite with them on his living room floor. Leon did think you were getting used to him though. Family’s family, blood is thicker than water. Cum is also thicker than water. And that’s what he’s pumped down your throat nightly in hopes of it clogging up your brain, so you think of nothing but him. Those dogs in South Korea, the ones Claire told him about, he’s got his own special method to take care of your vocal cords. No snipping, no surgery needed. Just the throat training method.

“C’mere, lucky girl.” He clicks his tongue as if he’s calling out for a dog. You lay unmoving, rocking back and forth, whispering to yourself like a crazy person. Bit creepy. Leon stands, he grabs you by the hair and drags you to sit at his feet near the couch. Simple and effective. Backhands you for good luck. He needs it. “Stop your cryin’ I’m getting sick of it.” Leon says, brows wrinkled as he lowers his sweats, brings your head down to rest on his thigh. Your tear-stained cheeks turn him on, the doleful eyes, runny nose. It’s hot. His sad little girl.

“Suck it.” Leon taps the tip against your pouty lips, swollen from his earlier kisses, coats them in his pearly pre, “I won’t ask twice, sweetheart.” You open your mouth, take him like clockwork. He don’t like that attitude. So he pushes your head down on his cock, watches your throat bob, uncomfortably full. Leon pinches your nose, listens to how you panic so nice around a mouthful of dick, gagging in a way you never have before. Not a gag that indicates inexperience, but one that is full of sheer terror, nails leaving red marks on his thighs as you drag them down his skin. Ouch. He’s gotta trim those down.

“You get it now, babe?” Leon hums, he lets you off this time, “Do what I say and it’ll be fine, yeah?”

“Yes, yes, yes, Leon,” you nod furiously through gulps of air, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry.” Fuck. Another one of your panic attacks. He’s not got the patience to deal with this. “I won’t—“ A wheeze, “ I won’t do it—“ A croak, “I won’t do it again.” You’ve learned to handle yourself. Rub your chest with your right hand, stare at the ceiling till you calm down. Leon’s dick is still rock hard. Ready to crack open a walnut.

“Good girl,” he nods, “then get on with it.”

There is nothing you’ve done in particular to set Leon off. He’s just had a bad day. Hunnigan’s senses are much too acute, she thought something was off with him. That put him on edge. So he’s like a ticking time bomb. Just waiting for you to make one wrong move. And you do. You say no to him, pleadingly so, shaking your head as you look at him with your fairytale fawn eyes. Meekly admit that you’re sore and achy and it hurts.

“That’s not your decision to make, sweetheart.” Leon informs you, he grabs a roll of duct tape from the kitchen, nicks at the edge with his teeth and tears a strip off. You bristle, completely still, a thousand thoughts running through that pea-sized brain of yours. “But I’ll be nice today, been waitin’ to fuck your ass anyway.” He puts the strip on your cunt, over your chubby lips to hold them together, it feels strange and icky. The last thing Leon wants to see is blood. He sees enough of that daily. So he’s generous when it comes to prep, busts out the cherry-flavoured lube today, squirts a decent amount on his fingers, cock, and your tighter hole.

You squirm, he watches the unreadable expression on your face carefully, the rise and fall of your chest. You’re nervous, but you’re wet, and that makes his chest swell in pride. Lucky Girl finally gets it. One finger slips past the ring of tight muscle, Ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc, there’s one last line he’s missing. It’ll come to him. Two fingers in, he scissors you open, spits on it just ‘cause it turns him on to see it run down your crack.

That’s enough, Leon thinks when he fits the third. He wants to make it hurt a little. Wants to feel like a big, strong man. He sits back on his knees, flips you over onto your front, he likes you this way. Just takes you in, how your tits hang low, brushing against the mattress when Leon presses a hand down on your back to keep you from arching. He takes his dick in hand and in he goes, easier than he thought. He wonders if you can cum just like this, with his dick pounding your ass.

He fucks like an animal, you gasp and yelp below him, unable to handle it as his hips smack against yours. The duct tape is starting to peel ‘cause your pussy is fucking soaked. That alone makes his balls tighten as he turns you back over to do damage control, and ‘cause he wants to see your face while he fucks. You look like you’re lovin’ it. Alright. So you’re an anal slut. Got it. He pushes back into your ass, groans when you clench around him, the duct tape peeling at the corners, he can’t handle it. Et in hora mortis nostrae. Leon’s mind blanks when he cums, fills your ass and his limp cock slips out. Shit. A-fucking-men. That’s right, he remembers. That’s how you end a prayer.

You don’t cum. He tears the duct tape off clean. You let out a loud ‘Ow, Leon!’ and frown at him. Beads of arousal stick to the piece of tape, your pussy is pulsing, walls fluttering around nothing. Leon kisses your swollen clit, rubs it steadily till you cream on his tongue, sweeter than molasses his Lucky Girl is.

“Leon?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I love you.” You tell him shyly, gaze at him with this dumb fucking smile on your dollface that makes his heart squeeze. God, he’s gotta keep you around, his lucky charm.

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil smut #leon s kennedy x you #resident evil x reader

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doctorprofessorsong · 3 months

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Destiel fic recs

Another round of brainrot. I hope they never fix what's wrong with me.

Beggars Would Ride by Tiamatv (Explicit, 118k)

You had me at Aladdin AU. When Dean Winchester is caught stealing, he's given one chance for freedom. Go into the Cave of Wonders, grab the amulet, and get out. Things don't go as planned. Now he's got a moody ancient genie to contend with. But maybe he can use up two of his wishes and then grant the genie his wish: to be free. What could go wrong?

This fic is an absolutely delight. I laughed so hard, especially at the fun ways Tiamatv played with the SPN canon and the Disney movies. But beyond the humor is some really fantastic world building and a beautiful story about finding your way when you feel trapped by life.

Genie Cas is very cute and grumpy and sassy, and it's fun to watch him start to care. And Dean has so much heart it will make you ache. Sam and Jess are disgustingly cute but both are also whip smart and fun. And Jo (Jess’ sister in this) is the knife girl of my dreams.

This one is hard to put down.

Tourbillon Dreams by kayliemalinza @kayliemalinza (Mature, 40k)

Dean uses Bobby's life insurance proceeds to buy a hoarders house stuffed to the brim with cursed and haunted objects. But when he finds a clock that also happens to be an angel, things take an unexpected turn.

It sounds cracky and there is some delightful humor, but this fic packs a beautiful emotional punch. Dean is in his peak caretaking, competency mode and Clockstiel is adorable and entranced with Dean in a way that is just immensely readable.

There is something starkly gorgeous about the way Dean and Cas are physically so different and yet they find each other in meaningful and beautiful ways.

Love Is a Meat Loaf Song by followyourenergy @followyourenergy (Explicit, 68k)

A reimagining of canon where Dean is never saved and becomes a demon. He's bored waiting for the apocalypse when he happens upon a certain blue eyed seraph and they decide to work together.

This fic has all the delightful sassiness you expect of Demon!Dean and especially when he spends time with his frenemy, Meg. It also has just absolutely amazing angel lore and a deep dive into Cas and his trauma. All of this is wrapped up in a soft love story about two beings finding each other and seeing each other and breaking down each other's walls.

It's the entire package of funny, sincere and romantic.

Where there is Darkness by quiettewandering @wanderingcas (Explicit, 91k)

I may have popped this on at some point when it was a WIP but I have to renew my recommendation if so. Dean and Sam are lighthouse keepers, but Dean keeps driving off the third member of their team until Cas shows up. But will they be able to overcome their past to carve out happiness?

This Dean and Cas are so delicious. I am deeply fond of them both. They are fighting against so much baggage and yet they find in each other something so special. Sammy is also perfectly oblivious in the best way. It's hard to explain what makes this fic special except that it is so engrossing, you will be slamming next chapter

Valley of God by ValleyDean @valleydean (Mature, 145k)

I know. I KNOW. The MCD tag is daunting in a fic like this but I promise that while it is accurate, then ending is softer than you think and it's really the way it should end.

So there are a few things about this fic that make it absolutely delicious. First, it really delves into Cas’ trauma in a really gorgeous way. We don’t have enough fics that look at his angel trauma (we can't for me tbh) and this one uses a religious cult situation to delve into it. Second, Dean and Cas in this fic are just so messy and delightful. Dean wants to believe that Cas is good so badly. Cas wants to protect Dean the same way. It's crunchy. Finally, the atmosphere is amazing. It's creepy. It gets under your skin.

Is it dark? Absolutely. But it's also amazing.

The Darkest Sunshine by StarlightOfFandoms @starlightoffandoms (Explicit, 35k)

If murder husbands is your thing, this one is a delight of a fic. Dean Winchester is the Righteous Man serial killer, a notorious murderer who goes after monsters (in human form). People who are guilty of abhorrent crimes. But when he goes after Cas, a professor believed to have murdered several students, he discovers an innocent man being framed. Together with Cas and his team, Dean decides to find the real killer. He just has to pretend to be Cas’ boyfriend until they succeed.

The fake dating trope in a murder husbands fic was a total delight. So was the fact that Dean doesn't work alone and has a full support system to go after the worst of the worst. It's an intriguing concept done really well. Dean in this fic is an interesting blend of sociopathic tendencies, a strong sense of justice, and a willingness to do anything for those he is loyal to. Cas is intrigued by Dean and accepts him as he is. It's a really great combination.

A Weed In Any Other Place by VioletHaze @scones-and-texting-and-murder (Explicit, 63k)

On the other end of the spectrum is this fluffy rom com. There is some angst, but most of it is soft, sweet falling in love along with supportive friends and family.

Cas is a writer. Well, Cas had a book published and now he's desperately trying to write his second while convincing himself the first was probably just a fluke. Writers block is a bitch. That is until his car breaks down and he ends up at a little shop called Winchester and Son. By some weird trick of fate, it's exactly what he needs. He has the most productive day in years sitting in their waiting room. So he comes back, and keeps coming back. The extremely cute mechanic with green eyes doesn't hurt.

Cas is a disaster at social situations in a relatable way. Dean is struggling to put away some bad lessons from his dad so that he can find what he wants instead of what his father pushed on him. Both have a lovely support system. Charlie, in particular, makes me deeply fond in this fic.

i like your shoelaces (thanks! i stole them from the president) by you-cant-spell-subtext-without (ayreisha) @you-cant-spell-subtext-without (Explicit, WIP, 33k so far)

My lovely Tumblr wife is back at it, writing the most delightfully chaotic fic based on Misha's prompt awhile back for President Cas and Fast Food Janitorial Staff Dean Winchester. It's a Cinderella story and in equal parts hilarious and adorable. Also it is a Dean-saster/Cas-tastrophe pairing which is always fun plus there's a 2 person love triangle situation.

Dean's stuck in a miserable job with his only escape being his love of How I Met Your Mother and the Tumblr blog he devotes to the fandom. But when a handsome man walks in one night after hours, things heat up. Too bad the man in question is actually the President.

It's a romp and a love letter to fandom.

#destiel #deancas #destiel fic recs #deancas fic recs #destiel fic rec #deancas fic rec

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ennas-aesthetic · 6 months

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What the fuck is Jesus up to in Good Omens season 3?

This is a question I've been thinking long and hard these past couple of days and I have some THOUGHTS SO. Buckle up.

Aziraphale and Crowley watching the Crucifixion (Good Omens, 2019)

First off. The answer to the question posited is relatively simple. What is Jesus up to in GO3? With s2's ending in mind and with the hints we've gotten for 668: Neighbor of the Beast over the years, we know he's descending to Earth to initiate the Second Coming. And that Aziraphale would probably make that happen - or do everything that he can as Supreme Archangel to sabotage it.

But I wanted to examine on how Jesus might fit into Good Omens' overall narratives and established themes - about morality and humanism and free will, and. I'm just saying, there are A LOT of fascinating routes they could do for his character.

(Disclaimer as usual: this is a theory that I obsessed over when I was stuck at the cemetery during All Souls' Day and must be treated as such. In no way am I insisting this should be how canon events must happen. I am just doing this for the funsies.)

The THING about Jesus if you situate him in the world of Good Omens (with the assumption that most of the pop culture Christology mythos associated with him remain intact) is that in this context he very quickly becomes: 1. Adam Young's narrative foil; and 2. an Aziraphale parallel.

Now, the first one is obvious. Of COURSE he is Adam Young's foil, duh. Adam isn't called the ANTICHRIST for nothing. Brought into the world just for the sole purpose of ending it. However, when the time comes for him to fulfill the Will of his Satanic Father, Adam flat out REFUSES.

Both the book and the show attribute this to Adam's human upbringing. He was raised as a human, and because of that he has the trait that the book uses to DEFINE human beings: free will. At the end, Adam had the AGENCY to reject the destiny planned out for him.

'Adam stood smiling at the two of them, a small figure perfectly poised exactly between Heaven and Hell.

Crowley grabbed Aziraphale's arm. "You know what happened?" he hissed excitedly. "He was left alone! He grew up human! He's not Evil Incarnate or Good Incarnate, he's just… a human incarnate—"'

- (Good Omens, 1990)

That is NOT what happened to Jesus.

Adam Bond as Jesus in Good Omens (2019)

Like Adam, he was raised as a human -- being a human incarnate was his WHOLE DEAL in Christology. In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us... yada yada yada.

UNLIKE, Adam, though, Jesus wasn't able to REJECT his Destiny of Dying Really Horribly and Painfully on the Cross. Narratives in the Bible also made it clear that the Crucifixion was NOT his Will, but that of God's. Like... him begging to be spared from torment but ultimately following God's Will is such an important event entire devotional practices are made out of it.

"39 And he went a little farther, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt."

- (Matthew 26: 39, KJV)

We get a glimpse of that in s1ep3 of Good Omens, too:

"JESUS

(muttering through the pain)

Father, please . . . you have to forgive them . . . they don’t know what they are doing . . .

Crowley, in black, comes up next to Aziraphale.

CROWLEY

You’ve come to smirk at the poor bugger, have you?

AZIRAPHALE

Smirk? Me?

CROWLEY

Well, your lot put him on there.

AZIRAPHALE

I am not consulted on policy decisions, Crawley."

- (The Quite Nice and Fairly Accurate Good Omens Script Book, 2018)

SO. Here we have the character of the Christ whose free will and agency had been STRIPPED from him in the guise of a "noble sacrifice." He comes back again on this Earth to fulfill another "inescapable destiny."

Aziraphale and Crowley need to stop him. The solution the Good Omens narrative offers to "inescapable destinies and systems" (both in s1 and s2) is for the character to realize they have the freedom to choose their own fates. It happened with Adam, and it happened with Gabriel, and perhaps it will happen to Jesus.

(At this point my sister frowned and said: "Are you telling me you think Aziraphale and Crowley are going to help Jesus realize he has agency and that him Dying on the Cross for the 'Great Plan' was kinda fucked up actually?" which sounds crazy when you put it like that BUT NEVER SAY NEVER BABIE.)

Because that brings me to my second point: if this all happens, Jesus becomes an AZIRAPHALE parallel.

In the same way Anathema is an Aziraphale parallel and Sergeant Shadwell is an Aziraphale parallel. Here is a character stuck in a suffocating status quo. To save the world, he needs to know he can escape that status quo and decide for himself. In the same way Anathema has to learn how to stop being a descendant or Shadwell to stop being a Witchfinder, or Gabriel to stop being an Archangel, and Adam to stop being an Antichrist, perhaps Jesus has to learn he can stop being... Well, the Christ, as well.

And this, of course, supplements Aziraphale's journey of letting go of the idea of being an idealized vessel of God, so he could finally enjoy the freedom of personhood and choice on Earth, with Crowley.

Or they could turn Jesus into a cackling villain who Aziraphale and Crowley need to kill in season 3, and I'd probably eat that up, too.

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #good omens spoilers #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #this was such an insane meta post to make but i had to do it #putting my religious trauma to good use iktr #enna rambles

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brain-rot-central · 3 months

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♥ Ao3, for those who prefer reading there. Please note: I have most of my works here on Tumblr. I'm sloooowly getting to cross-posting everything... Slowly.

Baldur's Gate 3

Oneshots:

Unholy Desire - Warnings: 18+, religious kink, breeding kink, innuendo, dry humping

Kitchen - Warnings: 18+, dry humping, pregnant Tav, cunnilingus, masturbation

The Cellar - Warnings: 18+, dry humping, Virgin!Tav, masturbation, fingering, dubcon (?? not really sure but I'm gonna put it), sexual themes, pining

Possession (honestly my fav so far) - Warnings: 18+, fingering, cum play, cunnilingus, PiV sex, religion kink, praise kink, breeding kink, corruption kink, possessiveness, slight bdsm?, slight DD/lg (if you squint enough)

Sex Dreamz - Warnings: 18+, dubcon - inappropriate use of tadpole, voyeurism, accidental voyeurism, bdsm umbrella?, PiV, creampie

Home - Warnings: 18+, dry humping, breeding kink, non-penetrative sex, trauma mention, intimacy issues, soft Astarion (emotionally, not physically), possessive Astarion, verbalized consent

Reward - Warnings: 18+ vaginal fingering, breast play, Tav is a good girl

Pegging Your Vampire Boyfriend: A Beginner's Guide - Warnings: 18+, pegging, bdsm- soft!Dom Tav & sub!Astarion, bottom!Astarion, praise kink, ear play, size kink if you squint, inappropriate use of magical scrolls, oral sex - fellatio, anal fingering, anal sex, trauma mention, intimacy issues, verbalized consent, blood warning

Scars - A tender back massage prompted by an anon message.

Up In Smoke - Warnings: 18+, dubcon for being under the influence, drug use, alcohol mention, breeding kink, praise kink, male masturbation, mutual pining, trauma mention, intimacy issues

_____________________________________________

Drabbles:

Graveyard anon - Warnings: straight feral. 18+ and very explicit. Context is there.

Possible Pt 2 of Unholy Desire?? - Warnings: see Unholy Desire above

Dadstarion - Warnings: it's really fucking cute and I cry. Pure fluff.

_____________________________________________

Long-fic:

Hey Jealousy (on pause for now)- Warnings: will change as new chapters are added. Please read the tags! I plan for it to touch on some uncomfortable topics.

Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal - An AA fic. Warnings: please read with each new chapter! They'll be changing. Ch. 1, Ch. 2. Ch. 3, Ch. 4

#i'm sorry #it's so basic lmao #but i hope it makes navigating my page easier!#masterlist

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berk-brain-rot · 2 months

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So Berk posted a video of some poems that never made it into Lazarus Rises and I wanted to talk about my favorite one.

It's this, it's this one.

If you're just here to read the poem, fair, it's amazing and stands on it's own, honestly click the link and read the rest of them, because they're all so good!

If you're here as a fellow-feral-unhinged-raccoon and want to read my honestly unneeded analysis, it's below the cut.

Oh my god. Are you kidding me?? This was a poem that didn't pass the cut??? And it's this good?????? (Once again I feel justified in telling literally every person who spends five minutes in conversation with me about how good of a poet Berk is)

Honestly though, this is one of my favorites of the poems in that video, because it's so short, it's so simply written, and this says so much that I feel like I could write an entire essay on each of the lines themselves and their meanings (I honestly might anyways but I'm not gonna subject you guys to those rambles)

"Life loves Death"

In the same way you can't help but love an impossible task you just want to give up but that at this point is the only company you truly remember and the only thing you know how to work towards.

"Life loves Death"

In the same way we can't help but try and find meaning in beauty in the thing that truly only takes from us, because if there isn't meaning and beauty in our pain, then why the fuck do we have it?

"Life loves Death"

As something we can't take seriously. As something we truly don't understand the risks of until it's too late. As something that for some of us, we rush forward to with joy and open arms because we think it'll feel like the warm embrace of the sun but instead all we are met with is the cold cold ocean.

"Life loves Death"

As a burden, a burden that some claim is a gift. A burden enforced upon us poor poor sinners by a god in punishment. Am I talking about Apollo or Jesus? Both, neither of them, I don't believe in either, but I mean no one believed Cassandra either.

"Life loves Death"

As a needed tool, as a part of every flower we decide to put in a vase, as every dye we put in paint, as every food we are forced to consume and as the tool that at the end of the days ends up changing us.

Also something something, gods punishing poor sinners for wanting to enjoy life something something an apple and a weaving contest being the show of ultimate pride something something I don't have religious trauma you do

Like do you get it???? Do you see how insane this is??? How much information they've packed into six lines???

And I'm not even gonna go over the way Life and Death are capitalized and personified, you all already know how I feel about how impressive it is they do that, but regardless, this poem is amazing and you can pry it out of my coffin-bloodied-cold-dead hands.

As always, the source is always more interesting than anything I have to say, so if you haven't yet, go read Lazarus Rises(amongst other things) and follow them on their Tumblr @icaruspendragon because they write so many cool things beyond just their published book.

#lazarus rises (amongst other things)#lazarus rises amongst other things #berk #berklie novak-stolz #poetry analysis #brain rot #poetry #analysis

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acesw · 4 months

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The Grecos, Schneider, and her Religious Trauma

One of the characters I really find interesting is Schneider. There are strong signs that she has religious trauma, which ties really well with the neglect she's experienced growing up and the way this trauma reflects her behaviors and words.

The Grecos are known to be really religious, and they're quite devout to Christianity as a means of life. It does not mean that they wouldn't do things to ensure that they're able to at least eat. Living in Chicago of all places is already one struggle enough, making sure they get by despite having bad relationships with gangs adds so much.

Prior to moving, they were more devoted to God as coming from a community in Sicily. They moved because of how bad the poverty situation had been (the major Italian emigration in the 1900-1910s), hoping to seek a better life in America. Of all places though, they moved to Chicago, where there were crimes and gangs all about. This resulted to the Grecos having to pull strings to keep their head up the water, and they still practice Christianity as a means to maintain morale.

We then have Schneider. The youngest and most neglected child of the Grecos. She was barely fed and paid attention to among her 11 older sisters. The Narrator also notes that she was even neglected from the start, as she turned a year old before her father realized she wasn't baptized.

Now, there are two main instances that showcase Schneider's religious trauma peeking through are the traces "From One Castle to Another" and "Long Night Trip". Both of which are very much talking about Schneider's past. There are parts of the dialogue that stick out to me.

-From One Castle to Another

"It's impossible to keep every child well-fed. Schneider could not even get a piece of bread in the Eucharist. But a good daughter would not let anyone worry about her. She sat on the bench outside the church and hummed. She found a way out for herself."

"The Grecos are among them. They're covered by the dark cloud of long-handed umbrellas. [...] But you can't find Schneider. [...] It rains heavier. The priest opens his arms to embrace the sky, 'The Lord be with you.' " " 'And also with you.' Schneider responds in a voice that could hardly be heard. She puts her hand on her heart. This is the first time she responds to the Lord. And it will be the last."

-Long Night Trip

The Narrator talks about Schneider's slow descent into losing her faith in these conversations. She used to pray and hope that God would fix things and give an answer for her and her family's suffering. And all that happened was that it got worse.

It only ever makes Schneider question and doubt, and eventually she stops believing in God. But everyone around her, her family in particular, still maintains their strong belief that he'd guide them out of struggle. Meanwhile, she take things into her own hands for that matter.

And again, everyone would resort to praying, praying, and praying. Yet Schneider wouldn't dare try. Because if he listened to her this one time then they heard all the other times and never cared to help. That rubs salt in the wound.

So with this, we see how Schneider creates her newfound identity. She starts frequenting underground markets and doing certain odd jobs. She is able to make amends with other gang leaders and grow her own strong faction in Chicago.

All so she makes enough money for the rest of her family to eat and thrive. It showcases her sense of selflessness, her full care for her family despite how they treated her. She cares for them more than anything, because even with barely receiving love, they're the ones that raised her. Schneider actively does it all to prove that she can give.

Even in the main story there are those hints of that trauma seeping through. Throughout the game she refers to her bosses as "My Lord", a name that's usually reserved for God.

In the 'Green Oranges' segment of chapter 2, we see that Schneider's younger self describes America as a new world. A place of wonders, where blessings will be given and all sins will be forgiven. There, "God loves the world". Because back in Sicily, she believes that God does not love her and her family here. This ties back to the major Italian emigration in the 1900-1910s, where again, the poverty situation had been so bad. Not to mention the overpopulation and the natural disasters that came with it.

Meanwhile, her adult self is heavily injured from the gunshot wounds and Vertin stops shooting her. She expresses her frustration of being unable to die fast, which then turns to this: "Or did God finally forgive me...He allowed me...to stay alive!!"

"God would never make or guide one to that first action," Schneider thinks, because only she alone did it. She decided to step in, with no guidance of the God she once loved. The God that never forgave her.

The entirety of chapter 1 and 2 shows that her trauma runs really deep. The youngest and most neglected child turns into the most diligent and faithless Greco. She expresses her clear disdain for God, and does everything in her own power to do what "he never did for her and her family."

#reverse 1999 #schneider #schneider reverse 1999 #character analysis #she and marian definitely reunited with their family #they deserve their happy ending #schneider needs a hug

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adventuringblind · 8 months

Text

Church Girl

Oscar Piastri x Autistic!reader

Genre: hurt/comfort

Request: no (check masterlist for request status)

Summary: Church has a tendency to make people feel unwanted. When reader goes to visit her family, they convince her to go with them to the place she’s trying to forget. Good thing Oscar is there with her.

Warnings: toxic religious folk, religious trauma, creepy old men, panic attacks

Notes: okay so this goes out to my neurodivergents who were stuck in a church that didn’t understand them with peers who made them feel like they were an alien, adults who were always asking the wrong questions and judging their clothes, and were forced into the stereotypes they wanted you to fit in. Fire Drill by Melanie Martinez was on repeat while writing this.

This is loosely based on true events

Masterlist

Summer break is here which means it’s time to go visit family. She and Oscar board the plane to her home country, all smiles and laughs.

She’s missed them since being away. Her family hasn’t always understood her, but she loves them dearly.

When they arrived they were greeted with hugs and questions about the trip.

At the dinner table that night, Oscar was quick to realize that he didn’t fully realize how religious his girlfriends family is. It seemed to be their favorite topic.

The girl next to him was struggling with the conversation and he could feel her stimming under the table. She’d talked about her church experience a little with him. He didn’t want to push her so he didn’t know the full extent of everything that happened. He recalls her mom having to put up with some horrible people and the tears over how it hurt her to see her mom so broken in a place she should feel loved. How her sister felt she would never be good enough for their expectations. How her dad uses is to control them sometimes.

And yet they’d convinced them to go with. Well- more like she was trying to please and wants to spend time with her family.

In the lonesome of their room that night, she collapsed into him.

“I think I might vomit.”

He simply hold her. “Do you want to talk about it? We can always say we changed our minds.” He suggests. His attempt at reassuring her futile as she panics more.

“The people there judge so critically. It didn’t help that I was weird to kids my age and mature enough for the adults to ask me why I’m showing my shoulders because they’re a distraction.”

Oscar hums in understanding. Carful not to interrupt her explanation but still show he’s listening.

“They say it’s a stereotype, but it’s true. I’ve been teased and looked down on and made out to be over dramatic. My old youth pastor used to talk to my mom about my ‘behavior’ and how I argued with him to much. Then I yelled at him for getting in my personal space and saying things an adult should never say to a child, in my opinion. I was constantly told I talk to much about the wrong things and not enough about the right.”

Though Oscar’s shirt is getting wet, he doesn’t care. Her more harmful stimming habits are showing as he’s determined not to let that happen. She plays with his fingers instead. “I can’t do it Jack.”

The endearing nickname alerts him this is serious. He didn’t know how far this trauma had been rooted inside her. No wonder she struggles with her self-esteem, she was told her entire life she’d never measure up. She’d endured hours of countless awkward conversations and events she couldn’t wait to leave.

The worst part is that he knows it’s why she apologizes for everything. It didn’t matter how much she tried to look ‘normal’ she couldn’t get it right and people were mad at her for it.

“I will leave it up to you, but say the word and I’ll have us out of here in an hour.”

Oscar had half a mind just to feign sickness and tell them they can’t go. The girl pacing the room had yet to get dressed or pull the plug and say she doesn’t want to go.

“I say wear something comfortable and scandalous.” He leans back on the bed with a smirk.

“Since when are you so evil? And are you crazy? I’d get eaten by judgmental stares.”

“Let them stare. You deserve to be comfortable in whatever you wear without feeling judged and preyed on.”

They took a separate car from her parents. Partially because they wanted to leave early, mostly because in case of emergency they had an escape vehicle.

He could feel her trying to self soothe in the passenger seat. She’d finally settled for her favorite pair of pants and his sweatshirt. Comfort clothes for a hard situation definitely seemed like the best option.

He held her hand as they walked to the front door and stopped right outside. “Remember you’re not stuck. We can leave anytime you want.” She nods her head appreciatively, then they step through the doors.

He felt like the were underdressed. Which is an absolutely ridiculous notion because it’s eight in the morning and he’d rather be asleep. How these people look dressed for a ball at this hour is beyond him.

Oscar spots her family amongst the sea of people and weaves them into their vicinity.

“Y/N, hi! How are you? It’s been so long!” Chirps an elderly woman who awkwardly embraces the girl. She’s still as a board and yet the lady doesn’t get the hint.

“I’m alright.” She smiles politely.

“And who’s this young man?”

“My boyfriend, Oscar.”

He reaches out his hand to her and she shakes it. “It’s nice to meet you.” He offers his media coached smile.

“Oh are you two planning on settling down? Having kids?”

She shuffles awkwardly looking for a response. She hates invasive questions like these. Now would normally be where an inappropriate joke about Lando practically being their child would go but she thinks that might be wrong. But what’s even right in this situation?

“Not currently. I travel for work majority of the year so it would be difficult to start a family.” She’s grateful Oscar knows to manage conversation.

“Oh well… that’s to bad.” Then the woman shuffles away.

“I told you it’s bad.”

“I see your point. Did you know her?”

“No but apparently everyone is allowed to talk to you like that even if you just know a persons name because we’re a ‘church family’.

As they wait for the service to start, they pass the time by people watching. Snickering at the obvious fake smiles and perfect families people show off on Sunday mornings.

They are rudely interrupted by a male probably in his forties. “Excuse me, I have got to ask, are you two siblings?”

He must be newer, she thinks to herself, it’s not like she’s been gone that long. She shakes her head at the man, one hand in Oscar’s the other inside the sweatshirt pocket. “No sir, we’re dating actually.”

“That’s a real shock. He’s a keeper if that’s how you dress all the time and he still chose you.” His comment is directed at her. The social analysis kicking in. Is this sarcasm? Or maybe a joke she doesn’t get? Is he being serious?

“What do you mean by that?” Oscar is quick to ask back. Again, saving her from most likely saying something she shouldn’t.

“Most guys enjoy when a girl wears appropriate female clothing. I’m just saying she’s lucky to have you if this is what she wears all the time.” He eyes her up and down. “Would be prettier in a dress I reckon.”

“Nope. She’s pretty in everything she wears.” Oscar is dragging her off in the opposite direction before turning around. “Also, sir, I’m the lucky one.”

The service is long and boring. The two pass notes back and forth like they are in high school. Though they aren’t necessarily trying to hide the fact they are doing it.

When it’s over, they quickly tell her parents they are heading out because truthfully, the girl is in the verge of a meltdown from the over stimulation.

They get almost to the door before being stopped again by the last person she wanted to ever see again. Her old youth pastor.

“Y/N! I didn’t think you were ever coming back!” He goes to hug her but she steps back. Almost using Oscar as a barrier. “Awe don’t be like that.” He pouts.

“We were actually just heading out.” Oscar steps in. He didn’t like how the man is eyeing her. It’s uncomfortable for him and even more so for her.

“And you are…?”

“Oscar, her boyfriend.”

A look of shock spreads across his face. “That’s gooier to hear. I didn’t think she’d ever find someone.” Oscar doesn’t hesitate to use his sarcasm and over expressive facial expressions as he feigns curiosity.

“Why’s that?”

“I could never get her to shut up about things that weren’t important. And after the lengthy discussion we had with the board about her argumentative attitude with her male superiors, I just thought it would never happen.”

She didn’t tell him about that one. Oscar can see out of the corner of his eye how her head drops in shame. He doesn’t let go of her hand. “So you work with kids but when one doesn’t act the way you want you take to abusive behaviors? Glad to see a church full of people who are supposed to be loving are letting their youth get hurt by adults.” He says launder then necessary, but it gets his point across because people heard him.

He turns in his heels and places a protective arm around her waist as they walk to the car.

He knows she’s overstimulated, so he tries lets her go at her own pace when they get back to her parents house. The spare key still in the same place it’s been for years, so no need to wait outside.

In the safety of the room, she latches herself onto the Aussie. “I’m sorry.”

He holds her and does his best to soothe her. “You’ve nothing to apologize for. Those people are sick, I swear. I’m sorry you had to go through all that.”

“That meeting was the worst day of my life. Sitting in a room with a bunch of older men telling me how to behave. They made some jokes that they shouldn’t have and told me I’d never have a good life if I kept acting like I had been.” She’s wailing now.

Oscar can practically hear his hear shatter. How could people be so ignorant and blind?

“They said that my autism isn’t an excuse and that I need to try harder. Then they said maybe one of them can take me under their wing and show me how to treat a man right. I was barely eighteen.”

They spent the night like that. Her crying into his shoulder and him trying to calm her down. She fell asleep in his arms and he didn’t have the heart to move her and risk waking her up.

He couldn’t fathom someone telling her her brain being different means she’s not good enough. It’s what makes her unique in his eyes. How could someone not love the way her eyes light up when she talks about those interests that she never gets tired of. How her honesty and ability to stand her ground make conversations with her never dull.

Oscar leans down and kisses her head. “I don’t care who says you aren’t good enough, they are lying. You are for more then enough and I feel so special that you love me and are willing to share those pieces of yourself with me.”

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