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atlabeth · 4 months

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Girl for one get that glass of water! andddd this is a loose request but I LOVE knight Luke and we just gotta see them have that cinderella live action ball scene like romantic dancing maybe the secret garden as well but either way we gotta see these gals at a ball! Have a great day you're an amazing writer!

under the moonlight

fic about the ball

pairing: knight!luke castellan x princess!reader

a/n: thank you so much for this request it is so fucking cute lmao. i changed it a bit to make it work with my vision (bc they wouldn’t really be able to dance at a ball) but the core is that they're dancing together!!! and it is much more intimate and personal lol. here is the cinderella scene that the ask mentioned (and that i took inspo from because it's a beautiful scene lol)

wc: 2.5k

warning(s): basically all fluff

as usual, a mix of hcs and traditional fic!

ALRIGHT LAST TIME WE LEFT OFF princess was dancing with princes during the ball and luke was sulking at his first ever ball accompanying you as a knight

and thankfully, that all goes okay.

You don’t get murdered, Luke only goes slightly insane, and you don’t fall head over heels for any royals.

All in all, a pretty alright night in retrospect.

But post-ball is rough on both of you.

You complain about how much your feet hurt from your heels and how uncomfortable your dress is and how your cheeks ache from smiling so much.

To your surprise, as Luke follows you down the halls, he laughs.

You stop in your tracks as you whirl around. “And what do you find so funny?”

“Nothing,” he says with a slight smile, almost private. “Just… good to be back with you, princess.”

A small smile of your own starts to creep on your lips. “It was only half the night, Luke.”

“And you have no idea how much I missed you,” he muses.

You just shake your head and continue walking. “You’re funny.”

(he’s not joking. he’s just going through it now that he’s not training 24/7 and actually has time to feel emotions again)

You finally get back to your room—thankfully, you got out of any post-ball events with any princes by citing exhaustion, and it’s very rude to demand more of an exhausted lady—and Luke shuts the door behind you as you sink into the edge of your bed.

“God,” you groan as you immediately peel your heels off, letting out a sigh of relief. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to those.”

“If it’s any help, you looked very regal out there,” Luke says.

“It is my duty,” you say as you smile inwardly. “You looked very knightly out there.”

“And that’s my duty,” he says in kind. He gets a chuckle out of you.

You begin to take everything off—you undo your hair from whatever elaborate style it was in, you strip your wrists and fingers bare of bracelets, bangles, and rings (though you leave a certain necklace on), you undo parts of your dress. When you take your nightgown from your chest and go behind your folding screen, Luke clears his throat.

“Princess,” Luke says, “do you want me to—?”

“You can stay,” you say. “I don’t mind.”

And Luke, idiot that he is, gets all in his head.

(Does she not want me to leave because she doesn’t even see me as someone who could like her like that???) (We’ve been friends for so long, does she just see me as an older brother???) (Does this mean she trusts me or sees me as like. a painting on the wall.) (what the fuck)

It’s not any of those, poor boy. it’s just that you feel more comfortable around him than anyone because you’ve been around each other for your entire life—he knows you better than anyone. What’s the harm in him being in the room when you’re separated by a folding screen anyway?

but Luke is dramatic and also so fucking insecure when it comes to your feelings for him lmao

and he has a reason to be i guess?? because at this point while he knows that he has feelings for you (hasn’t fully realized he’s in love) you haven’t realized your own. you just think you have a lingering childhood crush on Luke and it’ll go away as you get older and start being courted

(spoiler alert: it will not go away.)

so he gets all weird and silent, giving one word responses as you talk with him, and when you come out in your nightgown you immediately stare him down.

“Luke,” you said, “what’s wrong?”

He blinked, as if he wasn’t expecting you to say anything. “Nothing.”

“Luke,” you repeated. “Come on.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he repeated as well.

You crossed your arms. “Don’t act like I don’t know every single thing about you.”

“If you do, then you should know that nothing is wrong,” he countered.

You stared at him for a moment more, then you held out your hand. “Dance with me, then.”

That actually seemed to throw him off guard as he frowned. “What?”

“Did you go deaf back there?” you joked. “I want you to dance with me.”

He managed a smile, though it was slightly awkward. It only made your smile grow. “I don’t dance, princess.”

“Which is why I’ll teach you,” you said with a nod. “I’ve had plenty of practice.”

“And I have none.” Luke gestured at his armor. “I’m not exactly suited for it, either.”

“You can take off your armor,” you said. “It’ll make it all much easier. And a lot quieter.”

“My job is to protect you, princess.” Luke laid his hand on the hilt of his sword. “I can’t exactly defend you if all the armor’s gone.”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. He really did worry too much. “Nothing’s going to happen here, Luke—not now. I’ll even let you keep your sword with you if it matters that much.”

He still didn’t seem sure. You inclined your head and took another step forward, still holding out your hand.

“I’ll count you through it all,” you promised. “And if you like, I can hum one of those orchestra tunes they played earlier tonight. And I promise it’ll make you feel better.”

“...Fine,” Luke relented, and he started undoing his armor. “But you don’t tell anyone about this.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” you remarked.

It took a fair amount of time for Luke to get his armor off, but it took just as long for you to get every layer of your ball gown off earlier—and besides, you had endless patience reserved especially for him. The toned forearms revealed as he rolled his sleeves up certainly helped.

“Are you ready?” you asked as you held out your hand again.

Luke took it uncertainly. “I feel as if I’m the one meant to be asking you that.”

“You can lead next time we train together,” you said with a smile. “For now, you’re in my domain.”

You put Luke’s hand on your waist and reached for his other one, adjusting until it was right, then you looked up at him. “Does that feel alright?”

His eyes were startlingly dark this close, surprisingly intense. He nodded.

“Good. I’m going to teach you a few basic steps so you can get used to it.”

Luke nodded again. You wondered why words seemed behind his grasp.

yeah girlie I wonder why

Luke is. not a great dancer

You’re not surprised, and you don’t say a single word about it as you teach him the basics. he spent his childhood swinging a sword around, and you spent yours learning etiquette and ballroom dances lol

He steps on your foot about ten times and apologizes like a freak every time, you just laugh and smile and tell him you’re fine. Sure, your slippers don’t provide much protection and Luke’s boots aren’t great against them but you honestly don’t even feel it. you’re too busy getting lost in his eyes lol

And for someone who spent two years training like an insane person, he gets frustrated very easily when things don’t go his way.

“How do you do this? It’s impossible.”

“I learned this dance when I was twelve, Luke.”

as much as you jest while you’re teaching him the basics you’re encouraging him the entire time because he’s your best friend above all else!!! and you honestly believe he can do anything lmao

And he’s a quick learner! He didn’t become the youngest kingsguard in history by learning slowly. So soon enough, you’re actually dancing together.

Luke’s hand on your back feels like the most natural thing in the world, and you can tell he’s actually starting to get a little into it.

You didn’t have to count your steps off anymore, so you’d switched to humming one of your favorite symphonies from the musicians back in Aurelda.

Luke is still focused on landing every move, but your lead and the music gives him confidence in this that he didn’t really know he had. He spins you, and you get an idea as you twirl your way to the balcony door. You open it and look back at him.

“Princess—” Luke starts as he takes a few steps towards you, but you just shake your head with a grin and hold out your hand.

“Trust me.”

And he does, somehow.

You didn’t know what part of himself Luke had to get to in order to actually go along with this, but he allowed you to fully take the lead. His eyes never left yours as you guided him through one of your favorite dances—sometimes you called out whatever move that was coming next, and he would do it perfectly. His instincts and reaction time, sharply honed by his training, actually came in handy.

“And lift!”

Luke braced his hands on your waist as he raised you into the air without missing a beat, and you found yourself actually laughing with pure glee as you landed. You grinned at Luke who had a smile smaller than yours, but that you knew meant the same. He glowed with exertion and the light of the full moon shone down on him.

Angelic was the only word you could think of to describe him.

“Princess,” he said, bringing you back to the real world, “are we done?”

“I see no reason not to end while we’re ahead,” you said, slightly out of breath from his lift. “You’re a natural. Are you sure you’re not a prince?”

Luke’s smile didn’t fully reach his eyes for the slightest moment—he covered it up before you could fully analyze it. “Thankfully, I’m not. Otherwise I would have had to do that all my life like you.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” you said offhandedly. “Especially when you’ve got such a great partner.”

Luke suddenly lowered himself into a bow, his arm held in front of his chest as he bent over. You couldn’t stifle your laugh in time, but he was smiling when he rose.

“The only proper way to truly end a dance, so I’ve seen,” he said. “I wouldn’t be such a great partner if I forgot that.”

You grinned as you took the skirt of your nightgown in your hands and bobbed into a curtsy. “Thank you for the reminder, my lord.”

A shiver ran through you and Luke’s eyebrows creased. “You should get back inside. You’re not dressed at all for this weather.”

“It’s simply a night chill,” you said, and you walked over to the railing and rested your forearms on it. “And it’s too beautiful a night to ignore.”

“It truly is.”

You heard Luke walk up next to you, so you glanced over. His gaze was only set on you.

You felt your cheeks flush and you bit back your smile as you stared back up at the stars. For a moment, you stood together in comfortable silence.

“Thank you for tonight,” you finally said.

You could hear his frown in his words. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said.” You leaned a bit closer to the railing, shifting your balance. “Your presence always… calms me. And I was a bit nervous for tonight.”

When Luke finally responded, it was more restrained than usual. “Why?”

“Well, I was nervous tonight because you put the idea in my head that I was going to get murdered,” you said wryly. “And your presence calms me because it always has.”

“So… I made you nervous and calmed you down for what I made you nervous about?” Luke shook his head. “I’m sorry, princess.”

“Why are you apologizing?” You finally turned to look at him, the smallest smile on your lips. “Anytime I got overwhelmed on the floor, or felt as if I was going to keel over from boredom, I just searched around until I found you.” You shrugged. “The sight of you alone was enough to get me through the rest of it.”

“And of course,” you tipped a shoulder as your gaze drifted back to the stars, “you danced with me for no reason. That gives you all the good will you need from me.”

“It wasn’t for no reason,” he said. “It made you happy. That’s reason enough for me.”

The chill in the air was a blessing as you felt heat rise in your cheeks, and your smile grew just so.

“Besides.” You could feel his eyes on you as he continued. “This was my first ball. Anytime I got overwhelmed, I would find you in the crowd, and your confidence got me through it.”

You chuckled as your gaze fell to the marble railing. You didn’t know if you’ve ever felt less confident at a ball—but knowing that Luke was looking for you the same way you did him made butterflies arise in your stomach.

Warmth spurned all through you, and the fingers on your forearms felt bumps rise on your skin. You didn’t exactly know what possessed you as you cleared your throat and started back towards your room.

“It’s late,” you said, perhaps a bit too hasty. “We— we should turn in. It’s going to be a long ride back to Aurelda.”

You paused at the door, waiting to hear Luke’s footsteps or his voice, and it took a few seconds for him to do anything.

“...Yes,” he eventually said. “I apologize for keeping you so long.”

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself as you opened the door and walked back in. Always so noble—it was no question he had knight’s blood in his veins.

“It’s not your fault, Luke,” you said. “You were just meant to drop me off—I got you to stay.”

You sat on the side of your bed as Luke put his armor back on. There was no point in it, but he refused to let the implications of him leaving your room at this hour in his underclothes fester.

“I chose to stay,” he said. “I know better.”

“You can give it a rest for a night, Luke,” you said with a slight laugh. “I’m your princess, aren’t I?”

“Certainly.”

“And you are my knight.”

“Yes.”

“Then I don’t see how anyone could have a problem with my knight spending time with me.” You smiled as you leaned forward, meeting his eyes. A smile twitched on his lips for just a moment before he continued to get dressed.

Soon enough, he was ready to go. Luke paused at the door, fingers on the handle, and met your eyes.

“Thank you again for tonight, princess,” he said. “I…”

His breath caught for a moment. His eyes flickered down to your neck. A millisecond later, they were back at eye level, and you allowed a knowing smile.

“I enjoyed it,” he murmured. “Goodnight, princess.”

“Goodnight, Luke,” you said softly.

And you got one more smile out of him before he closed the door behind him.

#IF I EVER DO NOT DO THE “IT'S BEAUTIFUL” “YEAH IT IS” *LOOKING AT THEM* TROPE THEN I AM DEAD I AM DEADDDD DO YOU HEAR ME #posting at midnight because i once again have no self control #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan headcanon #luke castellan au #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #knight!luke #sadie writes

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highhhfiveee · 7 months

Note

please i need some dubcon mike schmidt ..,,, like he picks up drunk reader from a party n takes her home n fucks her throat ..,,, ‘you’re so easy to control when you’re all stupid like this’ ..,,, she’s got tears streaming down her face n she’s clawing at his thighs but he just holds her head in place n strokes her hair n tells her how good she’s making him feel ,,

okay okay okay. shiver me fuckin timbers lmaoooo. this is so brothersbestfriend!mike. switched it up a little but i hope you still enjoy! [had this set to post at 12 but tumblr failed me lmao]

sangria

tags: brothersbestfriend!mike, fem!reader, intimate touching, choking, wild dick sucking, deep throating, spitplay, degradation, dubcon (reader is plastered, and while she does consent to be taken advantage of, she is still under the influence); mike is such a protector and i'm starting to think that this is megasub!reader x protector!mike in addition to bbf! [let me know if i missed anything + this has been proofread but there’s always still a chance for mistakes lmao]

link to the original fic, mimosa, here 🍹, and the first part of the finale here, tequila sunrise, here 🍸

okay, so maybeeeeeee you two didn't actually get caught that day.

you’re panting in each other’s faces as you come, clean yourselves off, and exit the shed like your brother's best friend hadn't made you squirt all over the garden tools and pool supplies.

the feeling of mike's come pooling in your bikini bottoms makes you tingly all over again, and you're squirming while you both ease your way back into the fold of cookout attendees, diverting into separate paths so no one can catch onto your attachment; clandestine and kept between the eyes, lips, and bodies of you two only.

you'd wished mike nothing but hell while you were away at school, doing anything you could to get the thought of him out of your head. even though you'd been the one to catch feelings, you never wanted him to have any part of you ever again, restricting him from you.

you'd wanted him erased from the entire galaxy then, but from the cookout forward, nothing excited you more than the thought of being mike’s plaything. you snuck around with him more than you should've; giving him handjobs in the backseat of his car, letting him eat you out in your bedroom with the door open---risky things that made your heart pound with adrenaline and need, a rush to the very end.

you could only get that feeling with mike. it made you sick to your stomach with taboo butterflies, fantasizing about all the ways he could have you thrashing, eyes rolling back, toes curled until your feet cramped.

he'd hooked you on him once again, and this time, he'd decided to go with the flow. he wasn't pursuing anything with anyone else, and feelings had begun to bloom in him. nothing like love, he'd told himself (even though your flirty smile made his heart palpitate before making his dick hard), but like...safeguarding.

you were young, unversed with life, vulnerable; mike could see people taking advantage of you, mistaking your soft, impish act for total naivete. even though he'd hurt you himself, he'd never allow anyone else to treat you that way, or put you in a situation to harm you. there was this urge in him to keep you safe, keep you protected from the mean world that ate girls like you for breakfast.

mukrrrrrrrrrrrr

molwwwwwwwwww

gahdmn i cant tYpe LoL

exhibit a.

y/n are you drunk

….

………..

…………………………….

y/n

4 F R E E dwinks

downnnnnnnnn thw hATCH

pArTyz rool xp

mike's about to ask about your location when your picture floods his screen, phone vibrating in his hand with a call. he answers it with a displeased, "where are you?

"she’s at 8203 harrington circle," someone yells over loud, bass-riddled music and scattered conversations. mike hopes it's a friend of yours, and not a complete stranger. “she was fine, but i think that fourth drink tipped her over!"

mike's been putting on clothes and grabbing for his keys and wallet since your first text message, already sulking to his car as your friend finishes her statement. "stay with her and keep her upright, i'll be there in fifteen."

he can't get rid of the deep scowl etched on his face while he drives, both hands clasped tensely on his wheel at ten and two. he wants you to have fun, of course. he isn't going to tell you not to go to parties, or not to drink---you’re your own person, and he has no right to tell you what you could and couldn't do, but something about you utterly hammered around so many people you probably don't know makes his heart pound against his ribcage with agitation.

harrington circle was a street on a state school campus, one that you'd opted not to go to all that time ago. maybe you'd known some people there, but mike was sure you didn't know your way around, where to go if something went wrong...

he pulls up to a tall, red brick house smack dab in the middle of a cul-de-sac, immediately throwing his car in park and exiting when he sees two girls walking alongside a guy carrying you out the front doorway. he has his hands hooked under your armpits, pushing your boobs together and "covertly" staring at your amplified cleavage as he leads you down the short stone path.

your head lulls back a little, and you're smiling up at the sky with your eyes closed and your cheeks flushed to death. your legs drag under you, and mike's quick to grab for your waist, removing you from that perv's grasp with haste and a grimace.

you droop into him, body leaden with alcohol, and he slides one arm under the back of your knees, bending his own to lift you into a bridal style hold.

you squeal as he turns away from the house, throwing your arms around his neck and dreamily sighing at the way his hands feel carrying you, strong and vigilant and possessive. "mikeeeeeee," you mewl, pulling yourself into him so you can nudge at the column of his throat. your words are slurred almost beyond comprehension, and he commands one of the girls to open the passenger door so he can ease you inside.

he sets you down in the seat, or at least tries to, whispering, "let me go" when you keep your arms wrapped around him. the position has him hunched over, and it hurts his back so badly, but you whimper, "nooooo, want you close" while nearly making him trip and fall across you, splaying his entire body over yours. he smells so good, all warm and musky and mike, and you don’t want to separate from him.

"y/n, please. i wanna get you home," he reaches back to wrench your arms off of him, placing them in your lap and closing the door before you can complain. he walks around the front to the driver's side, monotonously thanking the girl who'd helped you as he grumpily enters the car.

he grabs for your seat belt, stretching it across your torso as he does his own and drives away from the annoyingly illuminated house and party commotion in silence.

you're so gone, but even drunk, it's unsettling to you how quiet mike is, keeping his eyes focused on the road without a hint of a glance or a word to you. his jaw is clenched deeply, and he's stiff as a board against his seat, so opposite from his usual sullen, suave nonchalance. you frown at him, fingering with your strappy, well-tied sandals. "hey, grumpy,"

"not grumpy," you huff at his tone, sour and unwavering, and wiggle your toes as you finally free them from the entrapment of footwear. "i'm fine."

"you've gotten very, very bad at lying," you demur. your head slacks again, but this time against your headrest. you ogle mike through the film in your eyes, digging your teeth into your bottom lip. "mad at me?"

mike writhes in his seat, his jaw muscles flexing at your coy lilt. you know how to manipulate him with your words, sweetening them in just a way that would have mike bending to your will. the way you're gazing at him with your big, unfocused eyes makes him makes him press down on the gas a bit harder.

"i'm not mad," he mutters, all pseudo-nonconfrontational and collected, but you know that he's not telling the truth. something about the circumstances bothers him, and you want to know why. the car comes to a stop at a red light, mike shaking his head as he scrunches his face and rubs his eye with a knuckle. "forget about it."

"i won't. don't like me having fun without you?" he doesn't answer, staring ahead at the empty streets around the two of you. it was so late, nearly 2 am, and it only fuels the exasperation he feels burning in his stomach. he doesn’t like you out here like this, without him to keep you out of harm’s way.

"is it the drinking?" you pout, frustrated with the way he's ignoring you. "i admit, maybe four drinks was overkill, but i feel sooooo good. my body feels like..." you make a subtle buzzing noise, similar to tv static, and cut it off with a giggle, reaching over for one of mike's hands while the light turns green.

you inch it towards your lap, dragging it across the skin of your thigh that skims the end of your skirt, mini and gold and matching with the white corset top you wore. "you should feel."

"y/n..."

"c'mon mike," you pout again, dipping his hand between your opened legs. you let out an astounded moan when his cold fingertips connect with your bare clit, and now he's scowling at the fact that you’re not wearing any panties. he thinks about how many people would keep note of that, combined with your docile, inebriated state, and see it as a way in. it’s clear, with how those drinks have you begging him to ease his fingers into you, caressing your tight, warm walls so he can add another check to "car" on the list of places he's made you squirt. “don't want you to be mad at me anymore."

"i'm not mad at you, y/n," he finally says, fingers still against your skin. you're soaking his seats, the excess of your slick dripping down to the cloth, and he has to pull himself out of thinking about someone else feeling you in this way. his eyes stay low on the road as he continues, "did you know anyone at that party?"

"mhm, like one person." mike sighs, a low grumble in his throat. he pulls his hand away from you, putting all of his attention on driving so he can get home. he just wants you inside, away from the world and in his charge. he doesn't say anything for a long while, eventually taking a deep breath and mumbling, "just want you safe, y/n. i'm glad you called me to come get you. there are bad people out there, and i don’t trust them in situations like this.”

"yeah," you purr, leaning against the center console and resting your head on the side of his seat. "you're my knight in shining armor, hmm? keeping me away from all the bad bad people looking to destroy messed up princesses like me?"

mike side eyes your tone, nearly scolding you for treating it like a joke and not something that could actually happen.

"...that's one way to put it, but seriously—-“

"wanna be destroyed though," you interrupt, unbuckling your seatbelt once he cuts the car off in the driveway. he’s turning to you, dark eyes gazing towards your pouted lips. you're reaching your hand across his lap, massaging it over the press of him in his sweatpants. “especially by you. wanna be your little fucktoy. let you use my messy holes however you want because they're yours."

your filthy mouth and shameless confession have mike turned on and hard and thinking about how you've called your holes his. he's seeing you bent over the couch, stuffed to the hilt with his fingers pressed against your tongue while he smirks down on you, veins coursing with lust. he squeezes at your hand, and says,

"let's get you inside, okay? then we can talk more about my messy fucking holes."

you're dizzy, giving him a big, woozy smile and letting all the craving you feel inside pour out through your glazed over eyes when he swoops you up again, carrying you and your shoes to his front door. your arms are back around his neck, and you're placing soft kisses on his lips, jaw, and chin as he drops your shoes by the entrance and carries you all the way to the couch, settling his body into one of the corners.

you're adjusting yourself on him so your bare mound drips over his thighs, and he's got his hands around your hips again, digging his fingers into your flesh as you mindlessly grind against him. you're still kissing against his lips, so uncoordinated and sloppy, and he pulls on the wispy strands at the nape of your neck, disconnecting you from him so he can leer at you with a look that tells you he will be destroying you tonight, guaranteed. "no panties was really bold of you, baby."

"can’t have panty lines in this skirt," you frown, placing your hands on mike's shoulders for leverage to move on him a bit harsher, eventually grazing them over his back and arms as you do. "not cute."

"but it's really not cute for you to have my holes on display for anyone to have, especially not when you're like this."

"mikey, please,” you coo, hunching down to press wet, suctioned kisses on mike's bare neck and rolling your hips into the weight of him. he feels so good against you, and you're aching, the alcohol sending shocks to your clit with every second of friction. "want you in me or something. no more talking, just use—-.”

"aht, don't rush me. trying to get you to understa---" one of your hands goes from roaming his shoulderblades to placing pressure around his throat, shocking him stiff against the back of the couch.

he doesn't think anyone has ever choked him before, and while his eyes burn at you with frenzied astonishment, you're causing him to have a revelation. his dick pulses against the material of his sweatpants at the feeling of your dainty hand squeezing his throat, and he's reaching to grab your wrist and bring your hand down before he comes all quick like he’s 18 again. you stop him with your other hand, coming in close to his face.

there's such a ferocity in your stare, and he knows that you're not going to let him lecture you all night. you need him to fuck you, need him to do something with you and your drunken arousal.

"are you really gonna keep talking, or would you rather just fuck my throat?" you slide your arms down his back, lips placed by his ear as you whisper, "show me how depraved people really can be when i'm like this."

he knows it's sick, but it doesn't take much past that for mike to have you on all fours beside him on the couch, back arched into a 45 degree angle as you drool all over his lap. you're begging for it, whining about how good he feels in your mouth, and he doesn't want to miss an opportunity to give you something you want, even though you're in this state. he's glad that it's him using you in this scenario, and not someone genuinely looking to hurt you. it's his rationale for giving in to your immoral desires.

you pull away from your mess with a sharp inhale, your jaw trembling as you sit up and give mike an eager, spit-slick smile. your eyes are even more distant than before, and it's almost like you’ve checked out. mike can see all the brashness and attitude you give him on the regular is gone, currently replaced with servitude and the intent to please, nothing less.

"wanna feel you ruin my throat, mike," you rasp, grabbing his dick in your hand and stroking at the soft skin, suckling on his tip as you flash him the hunger you feel inside through a grin. "please."

he's silent, having a quarrel with himself as he takes in your blank, mindless expression. it’s so wrong of him, but you look so pretty like this, and he reaches out to hold your cheek as you pout at him again.

"pleaseeeeee," you whine, tears nearly welling in your eyes. "want you to wreck me, use me however you wanttttt. gonna be your obedient, drunk little whore, do whatever you ask."

mike loses all resolve then, and demands you to drop to your knees in between his own. you're quick to assume the position, letting him put one hand on the back of your head and feed his dick into your throat.

"shouldn't like this," mike mutters, wrapping your hair up into a ponytail with both of his hands, watching you rub his dick over your face after slipping it from your mouth to spit on it. he almost can't take you like this, spacey and pliant and all his to destroy. so drunk and willing and--- "shouldn't let me take advantage of you like this."

your face is stained with tears and spit, streaks of dried liquid overlaying your burning cheeks and swollen lips. the neckline of your top is soaked too, saliva glistening on your chest.

"maybe i wanted it," you muse, winking leisurely as you wrap both of your slim hands around his base, smirking up at him. "maybeeeeeee i went and got plastered cause i knew you’d come get me if i called," you're feeding him into your mouth again, and without warning, mike is holding your head stationary, shoving his hips up into your warm mouth while you gulp every time he hits the opening to your throat. of course you'd do something like this. your admittance makes mike feel a plethora of things, good, bad, ugly, but right now, all he's focused on is making you feel like the toy you wanted to be.

"you're a fucking slut, y/n," he hisses with gritted teeth, throwing his head back as he feels you open up for him, allowing him to raise his hips and sink further into you.

the muscles of your throat flutter around his length, and it makes his toes curl, tangling together in his socks. "only sluts go to a party to get drunk so they can be turned into pretty little fuckdolls later...like being fucking mindless for me, huh?"

"love it, mike," you whimper, laying your tongue flat so his dick can slip in and out of your mouth with less resistance. it's covered in thick spit, a droplet resting on the tip, and mike leans down to collect all of it in his own mouth with a sloppy, obscene kiss, before releasing it all over his pelvis with a groan.

it was a fucking mess, and he loved it. he knew you loved it like this too, and your enjoyment of the raunchiness is reflected in the way you patiently wait for him to plunge his dick in you, eyes twinkling with everything and nothing at the same time.

your hand is moving under your dress, fingers stroking along your sodden walls, but he doesn't care; not when your eyes are rolling back into your skull as his dick infiltrates your throat again, filling the room with a persistent gluckgluckgluck as he rhythmically slams your face into his base.

you're sure you'll have no voice after this, but fuck, will it be worth it. you're basking in every second of this, so happy you decided to go out tonight. you were unexperienced in some ways, but you knew how to get to people, or at least to mike. you could get him to do whatever you wanted under the guise of him being in control, and all it took was a bit of sweetening with your voice, a flutter of your eyelashes and a crooked, "innocent" smile for mike to be wound your finger, abusing your face in a way you shouldn’t have dreamt of. you're running out of breath, and your fingers dig into his thighs with the message, but he ignores you, gripping your hair so that your mouth gently snaps up around him every time he pulls his hips back. the sensation is godly, and mike's not sure if he deserves this really. you'd fallen so hard for him at one point, and he'd crushed your hope to be with him under his thumb, but now you're here, letting him have you like this despite those memories. he's lucky, for whatever force is keeping you in his orbit.

"letting me do this to you while you're fucked up...letting some older guy take your throat like you're just free use...you're not getting into heaven," you laugh around him, forming your mouth into a makeshift smile as he slowly slides you off of him, overstimulated by the ridges of your throat muscles clinging to him. he doesn't want to come on your face, not this time. he wants you to beg for him to come in you, for him to fill you until you're overflowing, leaking down your thighs while he gives you more and more and more and more...

"i know," you mewl, pretty face smeared with saliva and pre-come. "i'll be in hell with you. wouldn't have it any other way." mike sits up, thumbing at your bottom lip and hissing as you unhinge your jaw and suck the tip of it inside. your eyes are getting dimmer by the second, but you're still wanting everything mike can give you.

he won't stop until you say so, and he strangely finds himself buzzing with lust at the thought of you bossing him around for his pleasure and yours. how had you gotten in his head like this?

"go in my room and strip, baby. sit in the middle of the bed and don't move." you're on your feet in a flash, clumsily dashing down the short hall without a look back.

it gives him time to get some towels, a washcloth to clean your face up, some lube, and grab waters for the both of you, thinking about all the ways he's gonna contort you. he might even make you watch in the mirror, make you take in your glassy eyes and lack of autonomy, the way you're letting him, your brother's best friend, have you in such an obscene way.

he cracks the door open with all the items in hand, and scoffs when he sees you naked, but stretched out on the bed, mouth hanging open with soft snores.

he walks over to the edge, dropping the things he's holding onto the comforter and shaking your shoulder softly. "baby," you lurch awake, murmuring "huh?".

you blink the bleariness out of your eyes as he uses one of the towels he brought to wipe off his drenched groin, and he smirks at you. you two are done for the night, and that's fine with him. something about your small figure, safely sprawled against his sheets has him seeing hearts and stars and rainbows and everything else he's tried so hard to push away.

when he's dry, ditching his shirt and boxers, he leans against his headboard, cradling you in his arms and lap as he begins using the washcloth to wipe at the dried spittle on your face. "here," he announces, cracking open a water bottle and bringing it to your lips, tilting it so you're able to get some water between them without much effort.

you swallow the sips he gives softly, wrapping your arms around his neck again. you loved being skin to skin with him, and right now, you felt tranquility.

this is but a fraction of that 100% he wanted to give, you think. something has changed in him, and now he wants to show you care. he still wants you to need him, need him to keep you protected from the world outside while he corrupts you in his own. you want that, too.

"mmmmmmm, you're so boyfriend," you muse, placing pecks on his collarbones as he continues cleaning you up. he's able to maintain a pokerface towards you, wiping at your cheeks with passive strokes, but inside, he feels nothing but chaos. why does he like hearing you call him boyfriend, like having you in his arms like this? why did it all seem to fill a hole in his heart, one he always thought would stay a cavity?

"really do love you, mike," you add, staring at him full on now. you might as well be sober, with your attentive, doe-like eyes. "tried hard not to, but i do."

you've broken him down, so easily, and somehow, he's giving into you with a deep, irrevocable sigh. he has nothing else to do but finally accept the truth.

"me too, y/n. me too."

this was rough for me to write because my brain just couldn't work properly, so i hope it's not the dogshit i think it is lmao hope this satisfies you anon!

faire's seedlings ✿

@leahdhopkins4321-@pyr0-kai-@angstywhore-@sunazroo-@nyxthoughtss-@mirophobic-@fayethor-@marixsimps-@regretfulme-@ithinkitszeph-@707xn-@cattt777-@violetta-ximena-@amnesia33-@topnerd03-@fastnights-@laprvphette-@savage-aespa-@mfdxz-@0-tatiana-0-@dusstory-@delwrites-@mikeschmidtgf-@jun1p3rlol-@xyzstar-@aquamarine001-@atrociouslybear

#fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf fic #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #faire's mike schmidt <3 #faire is writing stuff #josh hutcherson #faire answers asks #this man is sweet and gross and that's hot tbh #like...to ruin someone so close to you....having to keep it secret #lord jesus christ

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impishjesters · 8 months

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Jax-in-a-box

warning(s): mentioned spicy jokes/comments note(s): (In response to the request) We don't have Jack in the box around here so I actually had to google it, thought it sounded familiar lol A/N: This idea was so cute and I had so much fun writing it. It is sort of implied the reader is attached to said box, but not how. But now I am imagining them hopping around like the Pixar lamp so that’s hilarious. If you want more hc's of the reader detached from the box feel free to send in another request~ request: I'm requesting a Jax x reader (crushing and actual relationship stage if possible) where they are kinda Jack in the box theme (no not like the restaurant mascot, I was telling my friend about this idea/request and she thought I was talking about him 😭) So the reader is the tallest of the group and has long hair, similar to the rope-likeness to Ragatha’s hair and they also have very stretchy arms and can do a bunch of things with them (wrap one of them completely around a person, can reach the top of the tent etc.) The reader also likes to stay in their box most of the time since it's dark and peaceful but isn't like antisocial, likes to hang out with the others and does light hearted pranks on them (Jax included, no one is safe).

Crushing Stage

You aren’t on the same level of jackassery or prankage that Jax is, but you do have a knack for more light-hearted pranks and that’s admirable because he always gets a good laugh out of whoever you prank.

Though that’s not saying much, all of them have been subjected to a jumpscare or two by you, trying to approach you when you are in your box really is unpredictable.

Like did you not hear them or are you intentionally trying to jumpscare someone? (It’s usually the first one, the walls aren’t thick but they can muffle when someone is trying to directly talk to you.)

Actually, the first time you scared Jax it was completely unintentional. Sometimes you sort of just, blend into the scenery when your box is tucked alongside other stuff. You didn’t even know he was there when you popped out and just, scared him.

Fortunately for him, nobody else was around because the sound that left him was priceless. He hates it (affectionately) that you use that to tease him every now and then.

Another time that you startled (read: scared) him was when you were hanging off the ground, he hadn’t been aware you were quite literally hanging around until you dropped down, the box making a comically loud noise in the process. (Which is funny because that time others were around, luckily Jax didn’t scream.)

The more he gets comfortable with you the more he finds himself leaning against your box during group socializing time or even letting you wrap one of your arms around him and yoink him around (usually out of harm’s way, Caine’s games are too much sometimes)

In the fashion that “a boy tugs on a girl’s hair because he likes her”, Jax has very much tugged your hair—it’s long and there’s a lot of it so it doesn’t always get in the box when you close the top. So parts stick out and he’s definitely let that part of his brain act on the “what if I just..yank it?”

Afterward, he just does it because he likes that your attention turns directly on him. It’s never a violent tug or anything, just enough to get your eyes on him.

Dating Stage

Not too much changes when the two of you start dating. There are still pranks but the two of you are closer and whatnot.

However, there is the new addition of more risque jokes/comments, such as the comment about whether cranking the handle on your box does something. (The first joke happens whether those kinds of comments discomfort you or not, though he’ll stop if they do. But if they don’t? Oh boy, expect so many awful jokes.)

At first, he had no opinion, but he kinda likes that you’re taller than him. The only other person is Kinger and he’s usually hunched over.

He finds your stretchy arms to be both useful and entertaining, though seeing them stretch to extreme lengths kinda bugs him out. (which is ironic because he’s a stretchy toy himself)

Along with leaning against your box, now he’s more comfortable actually sitting on it, or rather the ledge of it when it’s open.

He’s definitely sat on it while it was closed before though, you may or may not have accidentally thrown him off. (he’s irritated, but honestly, he should’ve seen that coming)

On occasion when the gang is stuck playing some dumb game that he’s not really paying attention to, he’ll sit on the ledge of your box and mess with your hair. It’s similar to Ragatha’s but longer and it’s a nice time-waster just seeing what he can do with it.

Since you tend to stay in your box more than your actual room, it makes finding you at times a pain. Sometimes Jax gives up, sometimes he asks where someone saw you last, and sometimes he just yells out. The first few times it’s all fun and games but afterward, he just gets irritated, it’s like you move around just to piss him off.

For whatever reason in the beginning he never questioned how exactly you worked, you know, being in a box, or part of a box? Expect plenty of questions and the occasional attempted peek into your box to see if you have legs (maybe a spring?) or not. (he’s not trying to be dirty he’s just intrigued.)

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus x reader #jax #jax x reader #tadc jax

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genericpuff · 13 days

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hi, i know the episode came out weeks ago, but i wanted to talk about ep 277 and your essay on it. i thought it was very well thought out and had brought up lots of concerns abt apollo's other victims and the harm persephone caused to others that i just. hadn't really thought about myself because honestly this webcomic is a BLUR to me LOL. thank you for writing these insights and putting them online for others to read ! i think you manage to keep a respectful distance to rachel [1/]

Yeah, regarding how the SA was handled...

I think Rachel did exactly as well as anyone might have expected someone like her to write a plotline like that.

Honestly if Rachel really did want to do the arrow thing, I think it would have worked WAY better if she had used the arrow of hate. First of all, because it had already been established back in S2 when it was shot at him by Psyche, but ALSO because making it an arrow of love confirmed that Eros literally did what Apollo asked despite the fact that he's Persephone's best friend and should have been more suspicious of what he was going to use it for. Why not just do a bait & switch where Apollo is under the impression that it's an arrow of love but Persephone trusts in her friend and pieces it together that it's probably an arrow of hate? It would also payoff the whole "news crew being nearby" thing (as well as all the other gods that just randomly showed up) because uh oh now they all see his true nature and he can't hide behind his lies anymore!

After all, as I mentioned in my previous post about this (the one I believe you're referring to) it's not like there wasn't already foreshadowing that Apollo was going to fall on his own sword the way of Mr Waternoose from Monster's Inc, he was already showing signs of cracking under the guilt that he was feeling towards how he treated Persephone/Eris/Hermes/etc. so why did it have to be Persephone taking a massive risk by sticking him with an arrow of love that still doesn't fully explain why he would even suddenly be a changed man? Loads of people like Apollo think they're in love / define their infatuation as love so I don't see how an arrow of love would suddenly make him empathetic to her pain. Especially when, again, he still begs her not to make him confess, so the guilt he's feeling is still completely empty and unmotivated.

I will leave this with one final thing that I saw the other day that very much reminded me of the Apollo SA plotline and I think it rings very true for the misdirected conclusion of the plot itself:

One of the biggest issues of the Apollo SA plotline, at least in my opinion, is that it never really gets to the root of why people like Apollo exist. There absolutely were strong foundations for this - he's the son of a guy who's known for being a serial cheater, he's popular and egotistical and is used to women wanting him, etc. - but all of those foundations kind of fell to the wayside in favor of turning Apollo into just another boogeyman, especially to lift Hades up as a "good man" by comparison (when Hades himself also falls on this spectrum). But many people like Apollo aren't just random guys in an alleyway or conspiring with some "higher power" that's manipulating them, they're men who fundamentally do not understand consent and assault on the varying spectrums in which it exists from "SA just exists, oh well" passiveness to "I'm an actual monster who gets pleasure out of victimizing women" aggressiveness. I think there's a lot to discuss about how people like Apollo exist WITHOUT sympathizing with them, but LO manages to do neither - not only does it give us uncomfortable and unnecessary looks into the rapist's POV more than we get the victims, but it does it in a way that doesn't actually address the issue of how people like Apollo come to be, it's just "Apollo is the big evil boogeyman who raped Persephone". Not only does it not actually put enough focus on the victims, but it reduces the societal and cultural complexities of where Apollo's brand of egotistical entitlement comes from to just "some guys just be evil like that". Guys like Apollo don't just come out of the womb like that, they're often shaped into what they are by a society that both excuses them for awful behavior towards girls ("Boys will be boys!") and enables - if not outright encourages - them to objectify women as trophies that they're entitled to. Even the seemingly innocent and sentimental practice of "giving away a bride" at a wedding is rooted in these patriarchal systems, with the belief that a woman first "belongs" to her father before being "given to" her husband.

It's the part of feminism that often gets overlooked - it's not just about uplifting female voices and helping survivors speak up about and heal from SA, it's also about deconstructing and challenging the patriarchal systems that lead to SA victims being created in the first place. Sure, Apollo got sentenced to building temples in the Mortal Realm, but what is that actually doing to address the bigger topic of how men like him come to exist in the first place? Especially when it was also treated as a good thing for TGOEM to be disbanded, instead of, idk... reworking it into a women's support group for survivors like Persephone?

IDK, it's a very complicated subject that you can approach from a million different angles, I don't think that my criticizing it should outweigh the opinions of those who were satisfied with the punishment that was given to Apollo (my saying the SA plotline sucked doesn't mean you're not allowed to find your own validation in it) but I do think that, at best, Rachel ended the SA plotline the only way she could because she herself is just not equipped to tackle such broad subjects that require a lot more education, experience, and nuance than what she's capable of writing. There are definitely 1298423108 better ways that plotline could have been resolved, but not with Rachel Smythe at the helm.

And that's my many cents on that.

#lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical #ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything

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ofsappho · 11 months

Text

Summertime Sadness (part 2)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

Second chance romance, heavy angst, hurt/very little comfort

Ten years ago: the first time you met Simon

Today: the first time Ghost meets you

Tags: mental illness, therapeutic boarding school, self harm, suicide attempt/suicidality, self harm, abuse, parental abandonment, much the same as last chapter. This fic is unedited because I don’t feel like editing it lol. If you see spelling/grammar issues, no you didn’t.

TEN YEARS AGO

Reader POV

It’s intake day.

Intake day happens once a week, always on Wednesday.

You don’t know why they pick Wednesday. It seems pretty arbitrary, doesn’t it?

On intake day, the nurses and counselors make all the current residents of the inpatient program line up to greet the newbies. You actually look forward to intake day. Everyone here is so boring and routine; your roommate never speaks unless spoken to and she always keeps her earbuds in. On intake day, the hope that someone nice will be admitted survives for the few hours of the intake itself.

It usually dies right after. There was one polite girl who smiled when you waved last week, but she was transferred to a different facility that night before you could learn her name.

You’ve been here for three weeks, so that’s three intake days.

You’re not sure why you’ve been here so long. It seems a little excessive; you’d think by now they’d realize your stuff isn’t so bad and maybe you could transition to outpatient appointments?

It’s a little dissociation and some minor depression. Not bad at all.

But your doctors agree, albeit gently, that you should stay for the full five month course.

The program isn’t so bad. The facility sits on a sprawling multi-acre property in the British countryside, where everything is beautiful and verdant and always chilly. It’s lovely. The tea is good. You’re getting used to how they take it here. It’s nothing like the sweet tea you drink back home.

You suppose that’s another reason why they won’t let you go home even though you’re okay; there isn’t a home to go back to. Your dad hasn’t looked you in the eye since Mom left. At least the orderlies here greet you in the morning.

(What Dad doesn’t know is that before she left, she told you she loved you and to wait for her. Soon, she’ll take you away from this place and you’ll never have to see your dad again.)

Before you head to the foyer, you check your hair in the mirror of your room’s suicide-proofed bathroom. A young teenage face stares back at you with cheeks flushed red from the sun. You trace your deep smile lines with the tip of your finger, then practice smiling. You would have feel better about moving to a therapeutic boarding school if you’d been greeted with a smile.

At first, you think the newest crop of poor souls will be uninteresting at best. Listless rich kids detoxing off Mommy’s coke, frightened preteens who’ve never been away from their parents for an extended period of time, and a few teenagers straight from an ER, IV bags and all.

And then you see him get off the bus last.

He’s tall, towering over everyone else. A lanky, almost skeletal build, with a bored, aloof expression on his face. He hides the Zippo lighter he was playing with in his sleeve before the nurses catch and confiscate it.

There’s something horrifically severe about him. He can’t be more than a couple of years older than you, but he carries himself like he’s a blade and the world is filled with monsters.

His eyes are large and dark, rich brown irises rimmed with pale blonde eyelashes. And they’re kind, even though he would probably hate having that pointed out.

You decide then and there that you’ll befriend him. He could use a friend; everyone here does. He’s beautiful in his sharpness and elegant in his abrasiveness. Maybe you can coax more of that hidden kindness out, show him that it’s worth more than his anger. You wouldn’t be able to stay away if you tried.

You both like playing with fire, though you prefer less literal ones.

TODAY

Ghost POV

Your smile fades swiftly as if it was never there to begin with.

There are two ghosts in this room. That’s what you are; a ghost of the girl he knew.

He watches and waits for you to shift uncomfortably and start blabbering to fill the silence like you used to. “Why’d you make them call me?” Ghost asks when it’s clear that you won’t.

As soon as you explain, he’s out of here. Ghost meant it when he said he never wanted to see you again.

You’re the last living reminder of the past he’s tried so hard to kill. The beeping sounds of your heart monitor spell out his mistakes in a grating, irritating rhythm.

Your answer disappoints his expectations. “I didn’t actually think you’d show.” Ghost doesn’t hear any wistfulness or longing in your voice, anything that would tell him that you’re clinging on to the boy you thought he was. Only a bone-dry and hollow statement of facts.

“What do you want?”

You ignore his question. At fifteen, you were good at that. At twenty-five, you’re better. “You got any cigarettes I could bum? You look like you still smoke them,” You say as you fiddle with your torn, bleeding nail beds with the classic anxiety of nicotine withdrawal.

He does that too when a mission stretches too long without a resupply and he finishes his cigarettes early to stave off hunger.

Ghost remembers fighting with you over the pack of smokes he smuggled into the program. He would hold it way above your head and laugh as you struggled to reach them. But you never gave up - they were bad for him, and you liked him too much to see him die of lung cancer.

He remembers the determination in your eyes and your unwavering faith that he could be saved.

“They’re bad for you,” Ghost echoes.

If you remember that moment, you don’t show it. “You know what else is fucking bad for you?” Your tone is so acerbic that it gives him whiplash.

He can’t resist taking a shot. “What, being a prick?” You just… bring out the worst in him. You make him feel as unhinged and unmoored as he was when you first met.

You roll your bloodshot eyes.

“I wasn’t going to call you out on that. I was going to say benzos and vodka. Also throwing yourself headfirst off a bridge.”

“Oh.”

What is he supposed to say to that?

“Why did you come?” You ask after a long moment of quiet interspersed by that fucking heart monitor.

Ghost grinds his teeth into each other as he reflects. He hates doing that; the inside of his skull is a bad place. “…I don’t know,” He admits. Coming here was a mistake; Ghost understands that now.

The foul taste on the back of his tongue is guilt. But why? You did this to yourself. You brought him here to play games and fuck him up, so why is he the one who feels… bad?

You sigh. “Simon-“

“Ghost. It’s Ghost now,” He cuts you off with more violence than necessary.

Your mouth settles into a tight, pained line. “Ghost. Go away.”

“But you called me here.”

That provokes a reaction.

Ghost sees it and immediately wishes it hadn’t.

You stare him straight in the eye, your dilated pupils peel back his mask and see the face underneath. Your skin is tinged gray and your bottom lip blooms red with blood from where you’ve bitten through it.

He wants back the child sobbing for his forgiveness on her knees, who looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

“And it was a mistake, and I should never have done it, and I just wanted the satisfaction of knowing you weren’t going to pick up the phone. That I was truly alone.”

So the memory of him is a knife you’re using on yourself. Fucking disturbing.

“Oh.”

You raise an eyebrow as you wave. “Bye.”

Right.

That’s it.

Though your dismissal rankles, Ghost does as you ordered and takes his leave of you.

His work phone vibrates a few times.

Only one person calls that it. “Captain,” Ghost greets.

Captain Price clears his throat on the other side of the line. “Lieutenant. When can we expect you back?”

‘Tomorrow’ is on the tip of Ghost’s tongue.

He’s never taken a day off in his career, which means he’s got at least a year or two in built up vacation time. “I’ll be gone for a while longer, sir. Not sure yet how long,” Ghost answers promptly.

It’s only for a few more days, a week at most. Long enough to make sure you won’t try to kill yourself again, long enough for the guilt freezing his blood and choking his lungs to fade.

“Alright, Lieutenant. Keep us posted.”

“Yes, sir.”

TAGGING: @devcica @igotmajordaddyissues @almightywdm @copiasratscheese @nerdyreaderpapi @schmelscorner

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ask-the-rag-dolly · 9 days

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ok the askbox is open. im taking this opportunity to say ohhhhh im going crazy over the narrative constructed here. specifically with how audience (anon) interaction is intertwined with the main conflict.

because its like.. we are inherently a BAD THING. yes, some of us are actually malicious, but even if we do have kind intentions, and only want the best for ragatha.. just being there is a negative impact that outweighs any positives. we are a parasite, after all. and technically, the only positive action we could do is to simply.. stop engaging. leave the askblog alone. leave ragatha alone. except we could never do that, because we're too curious now, too attached- we want to see how the story continues, how it ends. we cant leave well enough alone, we just have to know. we need to know. so the cycle will continue nonetheless due to our nature. and we have to watch as our main character, the person we're rooting for, gets worse and worse. knowing that its our fault, because we're choosing to engage. we're choosing this path of pain. because we're curious, and that curiosity would kill us if we didn't feed it.

and of course its on a tadc tumblr ask blog of all things lol. no hate btw. im here enjoying it after all! though honestly i say that like this had any opportunity of existing outside of the askblog genre... or even the tumblr landscape itself- i feel like the anon feature itself is also a big part of this sort of narrative, as it allows those actively malicious anons to be even nastier. because it distances us from our actions. like.. we're given a mask, something that obscures our true identities (both to the other askers.. and to ragatha to an extent, as most all look the same to her. who knows, maybe that one supportive anon trying to cheer her up is the same one also encouraging her downfall! she cant tell!)- a thing that wipes our hands free of any consequences. a chance to become faceless and untraceable- so of course some people will indulge. be as horrible as possible. because, hey, its not like you'll be getting any consequences for it! no way to trace it back to you! no way to be held accountable! you can just sit back and watch the fire you made grow higher. more bright. thats the main goal, after all- to make a spectacle! to move the story along and make it exciting! thats the only thing that matters to you. that its entertaining. not the people you'll be harming in the process.

anyways sorry for the fucking. essay. in your askbox. i like talking and also i fucking love dissecting meta-aligned narratives like this. gggrrggrgrgrrrr chewing on this blog like a chewtoy. i hope everyone gets worse and this whole blog blows up!!!!!!!

i can't stop giggling at ' its on a tadc tumblr ask blog of all things ' . this was really originally supposed to just be a silly blog with little story but here we are . you really won't get this anywhere else

i get pretty happy when someone dissects this silly thing so no need to apologize !! i'm my own harshest critic when it comes to this blog so it's often difficult for me to grasp what meaning people get out of this lol truly thank you guys for wanting to see my insane , Unhinged ideas come through

and i love the dissection on the mean anons - a lot of this thing hinges on actions having consequences after all ! every little thing will have an impact on ragatha's mental state . i'll say i think the anons have potential to not be as harmful - as there was a point in the blog's time where they acted more like inner therapists to ragatha than reality-bending beings of chaos ( good times ) . it just really depends on being patient with an actually mentally ill person like ragatha - it does fascinate me how people's frustration with her echoes real life mental health situations .

but yeah thanks !!! i'll be kissing this essay and pinning it on the refrigerator that i call my brain (:

#[ ooc ]

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bloodreddemons · 4 months

Text

Hazbin Hotel Episode 7-8 (Finale) Hot Takes ~

I personally loved a lot of the Charlastor content in the beginning. So cute.

The deal Alastor purposed to Charlie was also very predictable. We already knew they were going to eventually make a deal but that deal in particular was just very predictable.

I think everyone knows this already but that "one little favor" that Alastor is going to ask of her is going to bite her in the ass. We don't know what he's going to ask but it's definitely gonna come back to haunt her.

She may even make a deal with him again possibly in the future, who knows.

I'm surprised Vaggie didn't know Angel's could be harmed or killed. Its weird that she also didn't know how to fight against one.

Rosie is a real gem and a wayyyyy better friend than Mimzy fucking is.

I love Carmilla & Vaggie's dynamic. I think they both are very much the same personality wise. I definitely can see Carmilla as a mother figure to her or at least a teacher to her, which she pretty much is.

To follow up, I loved Carmilla training Vaggie and helping her get her wings back. Out For Love was also really really good. I liked it a lot.

Never thought I'd hear Alastor call someone an old bitch but it was everything.

I knew Charlie was gonna forgive Vaggie regardless of anything but I love Auntie Rosie.

I didn't really like "Ready For This". I wish I did like it. Especially since it had Charlie, Alastor, & Rosie in it. Idk I liked Out For Love more.

Vox's commentary was funny asf but he's also such a hater. Not even a low-key one lmao.

The post-fight celebration and speech was actually very sweet. Although I wish there was more time and episodes that we could have seen more of the characters bond. I also wish there were more opportunities where we got to know them better.

I really thought Angel & Husk were gonna fuck this episode.

I wasn't expecting for Sir Pentious to say "I love you" to Cherri Bomb so soon and I also didn't need to know he had 2 dicks.

"More Than Anything" Chaggie version was pretty sweet. It'd be cool if there was a longer version idk if there is. They also kissed which was nice.

Adam & Lute are funny asf. Especially Adam. They may be horrible people but I just can't get over how funny they are. Even when they're about to massacre Charlie's people. Lol.

I wasn't expecting the war to be kinda epic. The shield that Alastor put up over the hotel kinda reminded me of the last Harry Potter. When they all put a shield around Hogwart's to protect everyone from the death eaters and voldemort.

Adam might just be the funniest character in this series dead or alive. Heaven or Hell.

It pisses me off how Charlie barely does anything in the fight. Like, this is her people and her fucking hotel as she keeps saying... yet everybody else but her is fighting. Wtf? Girl yo ass should be in Sloth.

I love Alastor & Adam's dynamic, their first impression of eachother is so hilarious. The fight between them was also very entertaining. I was really curious to see who would win.

I was actually kinda surprised that Alastor was defeated so easily. I honestly thought he was stronger than that, but tbh Adam is very powerful he's the fucking first man, extermination commander, and he already single handedly broke Alastor's shield.

People have pointed out Alastor's "normal" voice when his mic/staff breaks, because it's his voice without the radio filter. Imma be honest I wasn't that shocked at all, he just sounds the same to me, the radio filter just adds a cool effect.

Charlie really could have got tf up there and helped Alastor out. Idk if she thought he could handle himself or what but fuck.

SIR PENTIOUS KISSING CHERRI WAS AMAZING. WE WON. But then he "died"...

To follow up that sacrifice was anticlimactic at the same time. Mostly because of the way Adam just effortlessly zapped him out of existence.

I'm so disappointed in the "Charlie finally snaps" bit. I was literally dying to see this part in the series, where Charlie finally loses her shit and stands up for herself or whatevever....but it ended up being extremely disappointing and yet again, anticlimactic.

Charlie's transformation along with Razzle & Dazzle was kindaaa cool, however...her getting her ass kicked within like 0.3 fucking seconds was not. It was embarrassing for a demon of her status. I can understand Alastor, but seriously Charlie? You can't beat him? The clownery.

I loved the Vaggie & Lute fight. Let my girl Vaggie finally get her ones. Lute needs her ass beat disrespectfully for what she did.

Although...Lute was winning that fight, she was still holding her own and getting more hits in. I don't even think Carmilla's teaching's were working. Lmao damn. That bitch is fucking scrappy.

Vaggie should have just ended Lute. I know she's too good for that, but she really should have just killed that bitch. She left you for dead you should have just killed her.

Charlie stabbing Adam and standing her ground was badass, but that was kinda it. She still ends up almost getting choked out. Lame.

Charlie just isn't that powerful. 😒 Or at least as she's supposed to be. Maybe it's still not really shown to us, but so far she just isn't that threatening at all. Very disappointing.

Lucifer coming in kinda pissed me off. I wish Charlie could have actually handled everything herself without her dad having to come in and help her. I just feel like it'd be more impactful for her and her character.

Adam x Lucifer actually does seem kinda hot....just me???

Their fight was very entertaining despite already knowing who would come out on top. Hehe.

"All of Mankind came from these fucking nutts" is pure poetry.

Nifty is a menace and I have been saying it since the very beginning. If anyone should be running shit it should be her. Alastor is so feared but it should be herrrr.

I didn't like "The Show Must Go On" as a song but it was sweet in the sense that it was about Charlie and her found family helping her rebuild her hotel and still have the determination to keep going. Also it helps lead off into Season 2.

I'm fucking itching to know what deal is bothering Alastor and who he made it with. It's becoming more likely that it's with Lilith & that's who owns him.

I think it's obvious the deal possibly involve's Alastor to watch over or protect Charlie. Alastor is becoming bothered by having to do this because he literally almost fucking died.

I'm really worried about what Alastor is going to do when he's finally free and under no restraints from who controls him. I know Viv said Alastor isn't an antagonist but she could've just been keeping it a secret.

Alastor really might be a secret antagonist. He'll just be that surprise villain in the end that kinda comes out of nowhere but you still knew it was coming. I wouldn't trust him especially with what he said. Him pulling the strings can't be good.

I can't believe Sir Pentious got redeemed before Angel Dust, but still good for him! I'm so happy he got redeemed he truly is good and deserves it.

I was pissed asf when I saw Lilith in Heaven. Your daughter has been in HELL fucking struggling, while you've been sitting comfy up in heaven, the same place that is fucking YOUR people up!!! Helloooo??

My theory is that Lilith is Eve in disguise. I wholeheartedly believe that because something just feels off?? Y'all feel that too??? Lilith making a deal with Adam? Chilling up in Heaven? NAH MAN.

I also think it could be Eve who owns Alastor and that he knows of her being disguised as Eve, and is in Heaven. Like he's kinda in on it, but more so by force.

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marimbles · 7 months

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ok since i’ve really only whined but not actually explained my reasoning lol, here is my take on the s5 finale. (this is long, sorry)

I think we’re all on the same page about the idea that gabriel being seen as a hero, by all of paris but especially adrien, is icky. and on top of that it does not feel good that marinette is supporting that lie, even if it’s out of love for adrien. most people are assuming this issue will be resolved somehow in 6, probably by lila exposing the truth. cool. that’s my hope as well. but even if that’s the case, i still dislike the framing of his wish and what the surrounding context seems to imply about it.

it is not my assumption that gabriel’s wish included green initiatives and a reformation of the parisian school system lol. I assume that his wish was to exchange his own life for nathalie’s. but as we know, wishes literally rewrite reality. the fact is that paris improved after his wish, so it is still related. he remade the world, and the new world ended up better. It all supports the idea that his wish was a good thing—a noble sacrifice that redeemed him in some sense. my impression is that even if (hopefully) he is exposed as hawkmoth, the actual wish he made will still be framed as admirable. obviously marinette found it noble enough to agree to lie to everyone about gabriel’s identity as hawkmoth.

which brings me to another pain point: the fact that gabriel essentially won the long battle against ladybug and chat noir. i’ve heard arguments that he didn’t win because he died and how is that winning? he got what he deserved in the end. but imo, he just put himself out of his own misery, because he was on the brink of death anyway because of his cataclysm wound, and he basically escaped having to face any emotional consequences from his literal terrorism and child abuse. and even if you don’t consider that a win, you also can’t consider marinette’s end of the deal a win either. her goal was to prevent hawkmoth from unifying the miraculous and making a reality-altering wish. which is exactly what happened. so she failed her mission. ladybug lost. and to me it’s sort of bizarre that the narrative seems to be framing that as a good thing? ladybug lost, but the new reality that resulted from it is so much better than the old one, and she is actively choosing to lie in order to protect the seeming goodness of that reality.

marinette is lying, of course, to protect adrien, which does not feel out of character. we’ve seen her do this before. but it is frustrating to me for precisely that reason. the final battle was meant to highlight how much marinette has grown over the past five seasons, but her choice here highlights the ways she has not grown. starting with syren in season 2, she has witnessed how much it hurts chat noir to be left in the dark and how it weakens their partnership. in that case, she convinced master fu to let him be in the know, and trust was restored. but then she continued a habit of keeping things from him, putting more and more distance between them, till it culminated with kuro neko in s4—a total breakdown of the ladynoir partnership, where chat noir renounced his miraculous. i would have thought that marinette would learn from that experience and realize that keeping people in the dark is harmful and that even if the truth hurts, adrien has a right to know it. but she once again made the decision for him, and when he finally finds out, it will be all the more painful to know that the person he loves and trusts most in the world lied to him. i actually really appreciate that marinette as a protagonist has such a good heart but is still such an imperfect character, so i want to respect this choice as a manifestation of her flawed but good intentions. i just can’t help but be really disappointed that after 5 seasons of making the same mistakes again and again, she has apparently not learned from them, which makes me feel she has not grown the way the writers say she has.

her facing hawkmoth alone for the final battle is supposed to be a sign of that growth—and yes, I can see how she has grown a lot in confidence and capability since her shaky debut as ladybug. but i also feel that her flying solo defies one of the central themes of miraculous: that in the fight against evil, good people need to stand together. just think of the difference between the s4 and the s5 finale. in strike back, ladybug is broken and sobbing because she has lost the miraculous and feels like a failure who is all alone. but then she is buoyed up by her faithful partner and all of paris, who express unbreakable faith in her and vow to stand by her side. that was so powerful! showing that she doesn’t have to be alone, and she’s not supposed to be alone, and that part of being a hero means accepting help and working with others to achieve good goals. this message was a major part of marinette’s character arc in s4 and it’s something that was introduced from the very beginning and has been supported over and over in the show. but then in “re-creation,” she has no team, and she doesn’t need one. which … good for her, I guess? But then why did we have 5 seasons of “you and me against the world” if in the end it was always going to culminate with “I'm sure we can figure out a solution if we work together. You … and me”—referring to Marinette and Gabriel, while Adrien is literally locked in a blank white prison hundreds of miles away?

it just really kills me that in kuro neko, adrien gave up his ring under the assumption that chat noir was not needed—that he was entirely useless to ladybug. and then the narrative proved him right. ladybug did not need chat noir to defeat monarch. she just needed his ring. the writers confirmed in their recent commentary that they had planned a bug noire fusion from the beginning, and they intentionally sidelined adrien so that could happen—they even had to figure out an excuse for why he wouldn’t be there. so they traumatized him with nightmares of destruction and fear of akumatization to ensure that he would once again give up his ring and conveniently remained locked away while bug noire faced down monarch alone.

you could argue that it’s better for adrien to have missed the final battle anyway, since facing his own father would just be even more traumatizing for him. i understand that. (that’s the reason i liked that in the owl house, it ended up being just luz vs belos, and hunter did not have to face him again.) but at the same time it feels so narratively unjust that chat noir—who has been fighting against hawkmoth by ladybug’s side since day 1—has zero part in seeing his mission through to the end. even though it’s all about him. because while marinette is the protagonist, adrien is the connecting piece of the whole story. it’s always been ladybug vs hawkmoth, and adrien is in the middle of them, because he’s both ladybug’s partner and gabriel’s son.

you’d think, logically, that as the connecting piece, Adrien’s decisions would be vital to the plot. That he’d have the power to tip it either way. but instead he is completely stripped of his autonomy—literally, because he’s a senti, and also symbolically in the narrative, because he’s simply removed from the equation. Like, he’s still central to the equation but he has no say in it. It’s all about him but he’s not even present. Everyone is fighting for him but he can’t fight for himself. Everyone is speaking for him but he doesn’t even have a voice.

the finale kind of sets up marinette and gabriel as narrative foils of each other, showing how they have the same motivation—to make adrien happy. and they make the same decision to protect that goal. which is interesting, sure, but also kind of effed up to me? i’m not sure what to take from the idea of the protagonist mirroring the antagonist in this way. that’s been done loads of times, but in this context, for a child audience, i don’t know what to make of it. what kind of message that is supposed to send to the children who are the primary audience of this show? ladybug is a good guy, and in the end, she’s just like the villain because they both love adrien and want to protect him. so that’s why she agrees to tell everyone the bad guy was a hero. ????

that gabriel/marinette parallel leaves adrien to parallel emilie, which makes sense and is fitting but also just sort of … depressing and again, lowkey effed up. that adrien ends up with the same narrative role as a corpse in a coffin. almost, like, macguffin-esque—a thing that motivates the agents of the story but has no agency itself. despite him being so central to both sides of the main conflict, his decisions don’t affect the outcome. because he doesn’t have the option to make any. because he’s not even present. both gabriel and marinette made a life-altering decision for adrien, thinking it was best for him, without considering that what’s best for him is to know his own story and make his own choices. him getting the rings was somewhat relieving, but it also felt like kind of a slap in the face. because it’s like, “look, adrien’s free! he has his amok and no one can control him anymore!” but, like, how free is a person who is living a lie? will he ever experience true autonomy, or will his life continue to be dictated by the decisions others make for him? will the narrative give him decision-making power or will his role continue to be symbolic?

one thing that makes this all extra dissatisfying is that Adrien literally does not have the option of getting closure with his father, because he’s dead. maybe a dramatic reveal in the middle of the final battle would not be the best way to go about it, but now he can’t have any sort of closure. in the owl house, it didn’t feel necessary for hunter to be present in the belos takedown because he already had his confrontation with belos in graveyard possession scene. belos tried to physically control him, and hunter broke free, and spoke his mind, and as traumatizing at is all was, it was good for him to be able to do that. it would’ve been so nice if adrien also had that opportunity. if he did break free from his father’s control, either by overcoming akumatization or the control of his amok somehow. or if not that, if he were just able to have one honest conversation with his father about emilie. like he did with his alt self in the paris special. it was so significant for the writers that bug noire detransformed and spoke to gabriel as marinette. why couldn’t adrien have done that? Marinette is the one to tell Gabriel that Adrien wouldn’t want him to make the wish and hurt someone else, that Adrien has made peace with his grief, that he has learned to cherish his mother’s memory without living in the past. wouldn’t that be even more powerful coming from adrien himself? if adrien was part of that final confrontation just as himself, we could even still have bug noire play a primary role.

i get that adrien being part of the battle is a risk, since we saw in chat blanc one option of how it could play out. but we also saw in the collector another potential way adrien might respond to learning that his father is hawkmoth—charging into battle by ladybug’s side. especially if he was given time to process the idea beforehand. it’s not impossible. you’d just have to compose the scene and its buildup a different way. so honestly it feels sort of lazy to just remove him for the sake of ease? and also sort of a waste of narrative potential? the villain being the father of one of the main characters is such an interesting plot element. imagine if luke skywalker did not ever face darth vader. if he never even learned that vader was his father. or if he learned that fact after vader’s death, which was the result of a confrontation he was not present for.

of course, i know adrien is not the protagonist. marinette is. and of course i want her to be empowered by the story. but i’m getting a little tired of what i see as kind of cheap feminism in ML. like, girl power for the sake of visibility so the writers can pat themselves on the back about it, if that makes sense? this show does have so much good feminist power with a strong female lead who has realistic flaws and a big heart, who overcomes self-doubt and other struggles, and who has proven time and again to be a smart, capable leader who has earned the trust of everyone on her team. but all of that sometimes feels undercut by the narrative treatment of adrien—like he has to be put down somehow to elevate marinette. ML has subverted gender roles in a lot of ways by having ladybug lead with her brain while chat noir follows with his heart. and adrien has a lot of other strong feminine associations—the focus on his physical appearance, the expectation of perfection and obedience, his soft and gentle nature, his romanticism, etc. And one of the biggest ones is all the ways he is trapped, all the ways he is pushed down and made to be submissive. they even depict him as a princess locked in a tower, with marinette as the knight in shining armor to save him from the evil dragon (his father). with adrien in that traditionally feminine role, it would have been empowering to see him to take a leading part in his own liberation. instead, he was locked away both literally and symbolically in favor of a solo bug noire confrontation, so marinette could look like a girlboss in her cool new outfit, taking on the bad guy all by herself, even when it would (imo) fit better with the themes of the show and her own character arc for her to fight alongside her partner. but as Thomas Astruc said, “She's Barbie, he's Ken. You don't like it. I get it. It won't change. Anything else?” (X) it just makes me feel that the writers cared more about the cinematic value and feminist brownie points of that battle than its narrative significance—which i feel could only be increased by adrien’s participation. “all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing” … and that is all adrien was allowed to do.

i think a lot of fans at this point are just assuming that whatever feels dissatisfying/off will be fixed in s6. they’re trusting that the writers have a brilliant master plan that we just have to be patient and wait to see come together. idk, maybe i’m just tired. or a little jaded. i think there will be a lot to enjoy in s6, but i’m also prepared for disappointment. i honestly did not love many elements of s4 as well as s5, and i had expectations that weren’t fulfilled there either. i’ve felt let down by the writers many times now, so i expect that many of their future choices will not resonate with me. but i still love ML, and I am eager to see how everything will unfold. i’ve also read a lot of other analyses of the s5 finale, and there are great points being made on many sides. this is just my personal interpretation and opinion. i did not like the finale when i first watched it, and after sitting on it for months and trying to evaluate my feelings and look at it logically, i still do not like it lol. if you do, great! this isn’t intended as a personal attack on anyone—just me expressing my two cents, which ended up being more like $20. thanks for bearing with me if you read all this ✌️

#ml #mine #ml meta #ml re-creation #ml s5

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iiannabxth · 10 days

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unpopular opinion, i guess, but despite the fact that nicole claims to be a sociopath, i really don’t think she is. (that being said, she still isn’t a good person.)

throughout the game, she does express empathy and sympathy for characters like jecka or even jeffery, but will actively choose to ignore her wrong doings in order to peserve her own piece of mind. in a each of the endings, nicole will reflect on the actions she took to end up where she did. her reactions can range from denial to her own faults, to a realization of what she really did.

though it’s a comedy game, so everything is incredibly exaggerated, nicole is clearly depressed and extremely suicidal. she’s addicted to drugs to distract herself from her own thoughts, which allows her to feel better, and her numbness and recklessness probably come more from her disregard for her own life, rather than for a desire for entertainment.

nicole was implied to be a relatively normal person before the events of both games, having become popular in her other school once she became pretty. she also talks about what it felt like to be considered an outcast and to be left out. she ends up changing her tune during the game, choosing to decide not to care about anyone. she even explains this to her mom during one of the routes.

from what i gathered, her dad was a nice person who was constantly taken advantage of by people (including nicole’s mom), which led him to kill himself. nicole probably decided after watching it happen and having the only words on his suicide note being “nicole’s fault” that being nice wasn’t worth it.

for example, after the whole school turns on her in the suicide ending, nicole describes how hopeless she felt. she says how she learned exactly what people wanted from her, which was sex more often than not. she spends the entire route being nice to people she doesn’t like for the sake of being nice and getting them to like her, only for it to blow up in her face because she didn’t want to sleep with them. she feels taken advantage of, just like her dad, which drives her to suicide.

regarding her apparent lack of empathy, she is said to feel sorry for what she did to ari, though she chooses to ignore it because guilt makes her feel bad. as jecka pointed out, ari didn’t really do anything wrong, which makes nicole feel a bit upset. her lack of remorse comes to people like kyler, who nicole hates because he is a known rapist and misogynist.

as i said before, jecka and jeffery are probably the best example of nicole feeling bad for someone. when it comes to jecka, nicole purposely harasses jeffery in front of the councilor to lure him away from her, allowing her to again do the one thing she’d complained about previously. when jeffery threatens to kill himself, she can choose not to ignore her feeling of sympathy for him and comfort him. (i’m pretty sure jeffery is schizophrenic, so it didn’t take much lol.)

but like i said, just because nicole isn’t exactly a sociopath doesn’t mean she’s not a bad person. she’s still pretty awful and makes dumb and harmful decisions. i think she’s lowkey a well written character that’s really funny, but has a moments that actual inspire reflection.

anyways, i wanna know what yall think. i could be wrong, and she really could be a genuine sociopath or have sociopathic tendencies, because as i understand, sociopaths are made, not born.

#class of 09 #nicole class of 09 #class of 09 nicole #jecka class of 09 #co09 jecka #jeffery class of 09

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fractualized · 7 months

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Alright. Let's break down this "oh" of an ending. NEGATIVE NANCY, COMING THROUGH

Spoilers, ho!

Ending a story is hard, if they're long or short. Whether you wrap up key threads or leave them open, you want some kind of takeaway that puts a period on things. Even in comics, where we know these characters will go on and on, ideally a story will end in a way that just... fits. Even amateur fic writers have loads of WIPs just sitting there because exactly how to end this damn thing eludes them.

I don't know if Rosenberg had an ending in mind when he started The Man Who Stopped Laughing. I don't know if he decided he'd figure it out by the end of it's year-long run. I don't know if DC Editorial lets people do that; it sounds insane, but if you've been paying attention to their current level of editorial "oversight," which I imagine is supposed to make concurrent titles mesh together reasonably well, I wouldn't be shocked if they let people wing it. Or, more likely, perhaps DC Editorial swooped in and made Rosenberg change the ending he had planned and that's why the result falls flat.

In any case, after 11 issues of enjoying myself, I'm left feeling deflated.

But let's start where #12 does, with the Joker who's been told he's John Keyser, a toxin'd henchmen that the real Joker made into a doppelganger for funsies. He approaches a hotdog vendor.

I'm stuck on "Hello. I've been looking for you"?? I didn't catch that on my first read. Joker has a favorite hotdog vendor? lol

Shut up, Waffles!! All we have is your word for it!!

In any case, hey, Keyser Joker has already been Jokering this long, so yeah, why not keep going? And why not with help from poor woobie Jason, fresh from nearly getting himself killed in Gotham War?

Bruce did not fix Jason at the end of Gotham War, so his adrenaline is still triggering fear in his brain. But Keyser Joker has a solution for that!

It's a tiny dose of Joker toxin to take the edge off of Bruce's programming. Joker makes a point of saying that the effects are only temporary, though. (And like, I assume this is just the quick-fix solution Rosenberg came up with to pull off his own ending when told Bruce's plans for Jason over in the other titles.) Jason is skeptical of this "help," naturally, but Keyser Joker brings up their matching interest: getting rid of the other Joker.

Jason, why you gotta ruin Albert's good time? 🙄

Cut to Red Hood dragging a clown henchman through the streets of Gotham.

But "his" face being blacked out and some of the dialogue clue the reader in: things aren't what they seem.

DERAIL TIME: what is up with this batmobile?

Like from some other angles, it looks sportier, but in most of the panels it looks like an old Buick? lol ANYWAY.

With the flaily way this person jumps off the bike and runs, I was sure that this was Keyser Joker and we might see Batman interact with him. Alas.

It's Ravager, who survived last issue's explosion. She's helping Jason 1) distract Batman and 2) get Albert out of harm's way, far from Keyser Joker's plan.

Naturally Keyser Joker is planning something more destructive than he's led Jason to believe. Also like…

The idea that Keyser Joker really is this John guy, not the real deal, is still not sitting fucking right with me. Seeing him here in another costume, with a goofy death train with mismatched eyes just like his, it feels like a signal that he actually is Joker and Waffles is either lying or mistaken somehow. Like compared to the other Joker, who we haven't seen in a costume? Who left Gotham for weird reasons? I really thought there was going to be a reverse reveal.

And since it doesn't come, I guess it's a good time to mention that! There is no reverse reveal of who the real Joker is. Things get a little muddy later, but…. hrm. HRM.

That said, the other Joker does something pretty dang Jokery: he shows up in a dirigible with his face on it.

Killer Moth and a bunch of clown goons (that aren't supposed to be available because of Gotham War but WHATEVER) attach the dirigible to the train and it's pretty chaotic!

I love when villains are like, "Look I may kill people, but an endangered gorilla?! Get outta here!" 😂

Jason also arrives in style.

I guess he was observing Ravager's distraction?? Which feels like it defeats part of the purpose of having her do the distraction. But then he couldn't have this cool entrance in which he bludgeons people with a motorcycle. Trade offs!

Meanwhile, Real Joker makes it to the front of the train to confront Keyser Joker. One of Real's goons offers to shoot Keyser, but Real Joker wants to make this personal and kills the poor hench so he can do it himself.

Jason coming in like YEEEEEAAAAHHHHH 😎

Then he gets the bad news.

Keyser is as casually suicidal as your average Joker! Also "Real" Joker never acknowledges Red Hood's identity, afaik. It's always Keyser Joker. Details like this got me thinking that reverse reveal was coming, AND YET.

That aside, next comes a fun comedy beat.

Real Joker going right for the hair!

Jason isn't going to let this be the end of it, of course, and once again Killer Moth must suffer at his hands.

Jason shoots so many clowns. Just never the one he wants. 😞

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaait wait wait. You're telling me that Bruce knew about the imminent TWO JOKERS situation. But he decided to prioritize a report of Red Hood dragging a clown through the streets. When in the same breath he's saying there are other people coming to the scene with him, so he obviously could've sent someone else? On the same day Batman #139 is like "oooh Bruce is totally onto Joker now"? This is what you're telling me?? Augh.

Well, we can't rely on Batman right now, clearly, so it's up to Jason.

Meanwhile, Keyser Joker has told the other one that he actually does have a secret way off the runaway train safely. After they fight some more, the tune starts to change.

Alright so, this "deal," which would sort of start them back at square one, doesn't bother me because obviously it's on shaky-ass ground and one of them is definitely killing the other before this issue is over. What does bug me is the "franchising" line, for two reasons:

1) Is this supposed to imply that Real Joker is the one who was behind Joker Incorporated in the Batman Incorporated issues, not a third one?

2) I was just SO SURE it was another indication we were getting a reverse reveal. Joker absolutely does not love the franchising idea. That's kind of been the point of this whole series. The genuine Joker in Keyser Joker's hallucination/memory said that having two Jokers around is stupid. HRRRRMMM.

Anyhow, they leave the train together, though the escape plan is literally just jumping off, which has more issues than they bargained for.

So do you think, assuming the Gotham War writers actually communicated at least a little, that Zdarsky asked Rosenberg what he needed Jason for at the end of TMWSL, and Rosenberg was like, "oh I need him to heroically crash a toxic blimp and almost die?" And then Zdarsky was like, "er, I need him to heroically fly a plane into a magic meteor and almost die?" And then they just shrugged and closed the Zoom?

But yeah, the blimp crashes, and I'm sort of confused because I thought that earlier Bruce was saying that even if the toxin gets into the water, it'll still make it's way to the city. So for one thing, it's still exploding in the air and it's still gonna drift. And the parts that dissolve in water are still gonna drift. There's a part to the equation missing here.

But these two are just thrilled at the excitement.

Until the sudden yet inevitable betrayal.

BUT WHO WAS JOKE

Shortly after this, Ravager shows up with Manhunter, who also survived last issue's explosion. (It just doesn't come up at all. Like it doesn't have to, I guess, but it's just weird that there's not a word or wound about it.) Ravager dives into the water looking for Jason, because she instinctually knows he did something grand and dumb. She finds him among the clown bodies and brings him to shore.

Nothing can kill this man! He came back from the dead with nine lives! And also maybe that Lazarus resin from TFZ is still helping, I dunno.

Elsewhere along the shore, what's left of both Jokers' crews find themselves waiting in the same spot for the Joker they expect to be triumphant.

You know what. I'm soured on Waffles now. Leave him.

And then, from the water…

And that's it. That's how it ends. With a sort of snide cop-out?

Like, it's Joker's POV, so yeah, you could say the dickish tone is just him. But following this story for a year, and then seeing it end with simply the old "you'll never know which Joker prevailed," it doesn't feel clever or whatever this is going for. It just feels obnoxious.

Honestly, it feels like the same takeaway as freaking Three Jokers. 😐 That it doesn't matter who Joker is. All the lead-up to this, where maybe we get a tiny bit of depth and development, even if just in this story, eh. Doesn't matter! We're ending this with blah payoff.

On the other hand, the part of about about there being more questions, about this ending not being tidy, makes me think that this is leaving open the possibility that Keyser Joker actually was the real one. After all, we don't get a flashback to the actual events. The events we see are part of a hallucination, and Keyser never said he had clear memories of being the real or the fake one. He just went from assuming he was the real one to taking Waffles' word for it that he was the henchman.

Also, Keyser Joker was always the Joker giving narration. And the narration boxes for the Final Joker at the end remain in his style. So it seems like we actually have a huge indication of which Joker prevailed-- unless we're meant to assume that if the other Joker prevailed, he merely took over the narration.

I mean, this is what we have. So if I can just choose what I want to believe, I'm going to believe both that Keyser was actually the real guy and that he won. But it puts a real sour taste in my mouth to be super engaged with a story and wanting an ending that says something about Joker's character… and the ending is just that one murders the other and you don't know who, neener neener. It's anticlimactic. It's a predictable direction that I thought SURELY Rosenberg wouldn't go in. It feels like a dick move.

And... what else is there to say? So ends my year of consistently buying a comic, I guess. Nothing else has really grabbed me like TMWSL did, though City of Madness looks promising. After the multiverse and Gotham War stuff, I'm not about to start picking up Zdarsky's Batman. #139 had plenty I should enjoy, but it's soured by Zdarsky deciding to bring a canonical take to the three Jokers concept for some ungodly reason.

A new three Jokers take feels extra stupid after a year of a story about two Jokers. And the second Joker in TMWSL isn't even taken into account in Zdarsky's story. Based off that #135 scene, it really looks like he's going to say that Darwin Halliday accidentally copied TKJ Joker somehow. lmao Why. Why do we have to do this. Why can't this just be one of the things that gets retconned away. I just want my murderclown to be fun.

I need to get back to my list of unread older comics. Or read One Operation Joker! I didn't think I was interested, but I think a random goofy premise is actually just what I need.

#the man who stopped laughing #joker #spoilers #my jibber-jabber #sorry for being a downer

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livwritesstuff · 4 months

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Angsty question- feel free to ignore if you want.

Historically, dads yelling has always been a very not-good sound. Especially to girls.

What happened the first time Steve or Eddie (or both) yelled? Not even at the girls; it could’ve been a heated argument they were having.

How old were the girls? What did they do? How did Steve and Eddie feel? What did they do?

oooh okay i definitely took my time mulling over this one bc i wanna make sure i’m getting my wording right

(and reading this back i’m realizing i kind of don’t really answer your actual question hope that’s okay lol)

I think a really important facet of this is that (in this ‘verse) Steve is a licensed and practicing trauma counselor. Not only does he know how harmful (and counter-productive) yelling can be, he also knows all sorts of other methods for communication that are just better.

It’s not that the girls don’t ever piss him off or do stupid shit and get in trouble – he just knows way more effective ways to get them to realize oh shit, I fucked up than by yelling at them.

(I think if anything, he could be a stress-yeller, but by the time he and Eddie start fostering kids, he’s been through so much shit that he doesn’t really ever hit that stress threshold anymore).

And then, I think with Eddie, he’s still as dramatic as ever even in middle-aged adulthood, and I think he gets loud about things pretty much regardless of the emotion behind it, so the girls aren’t super phased by it if/when he does get loud from a place of anger or frustration. I also feel like Eddie tends to defer to Steve when it comes to the heavier parts of parenthood, precisely because he knows that Steve is coming at it from a place of clinical expertise in a way that he himself isn’t. Steve isn’t a yeller, so neither is Eddie. Maybe if Steve had been more inclined to yell, Eddie would be too.

Same thing applies with Steve and Eddie’s communication with each other – they don’t really get into screaming matches over shit, but when they do argue or have disagreements or conflict or whatever, they get mean, and I think this is where there could be some problems.

Like, they can throw some serious barbs at each other when they want to (and they’ve known each other for a long time so they’ve got plenty of ammo), and when the girls are little, it’s easy to forget in the heat of the moment that they actually can understand what their dads are saying.

Hence why, a few hours after an argument (about nothing – they were just both in pissy moods at the same time, and with Hazel not even five months old yet they’re not really getting much sleep which doesn’t help things at all), Steve finds three-year-old Robbie crying in her room, and when he asks her what’s wrong, she whimpers, “Moe said you and Daddy are gonna get a divorce.”

And, fuck, Moe is only six, and Steve didn’t know that she even knew what divorce was (though it’s possible he and Eddie had gossiped a little too close to the sun about one of their neighbors’ divorce earlier that same week, so maybe that one's on them), and the notion that her brain had been able to make that connection from the things she'd heard earlier had Steve feeling like the worst guy on the planet.

Then, when they sat down with the older two girls to make sure they knew that everything was fine and no one was getting divorced, it only got worse because Moe started repeating back to them the shitty things they had said to each other, and there’s a special kind of shame in hearing word-for-word the vitriol he’d directed at Eddie – who he loves; no argument could ever change that – coming out of his kindergartener’s mouth.

Yeah, so anyways, I don’t really think yelling would necessarily be an issue with them, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t some real flaws in their communication that stick with the girls.

#eddie: do you think they’d even let us get divorced #eddie: they only just made gay marriage legal – do you think they’d even have the protocol in place for gay divorce #steve: please don’t joke about that right now. read the damn room for once.#liv’s steddie dads verse #liv says stuff

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hd1u · 9 months

Text

My Bowser x reader ideas:

Bowser seeking refuge in your kingdom after he escapes Princess Peach's imprisonment.

Princess Peach using you as Bowser bait cause she's sick of being kidnapped n shit (you're totally into it, tho).

Princess Peach x reader x Bowser? I've literally got nothing else cuz I've had Bowser brainrot for a few months now, but omg..... 🫣

This is probably the one I like the most, and the one I've put the most thought into (under cut):

While Bowser is still in Princess Peach's captivity, you wander around his kingdom just cause you think it's cool and like, who's gonna stop you anywayz?

Eventually Kamek and the rest of the Koopa Troop notice you, but they don't really care because they're too busy trying to figure out how to aid Bowser in his escape, along with running the kingdom without him (I'd imagine that mostly lies on Kamek).

You figure hey, you dig this place, and you're bored as hell. Why don't you just become the new ruler for a little while? And that's what you propose to them.

They decide to entertain you, knowing that a random little human isn't gonna be able to do much harm anyway. They don't expect it to go much farther than being an inside joke, but they're surprised when they find out that they actually... Like you? And you're kind of good at this? And it's kind of nice to not have a huge fire-breathing beast with anger issues over their shoulders all the time??? Kamek is also enjoying his much needed break, so it just ends up not being a joke anymore. You're just their ruler now, and they're chill with it.

Anyway, when Bowser inevitably gets out, drama ensues, and it's kind of like a weird custody battle. Reader and him start off on a really bad foot, and they consider each other enemies at first. The only thing that stops Bowser from murking you on the spot is Kamek (lucky, lucky you!), and it is very physical. We're talking movie Bowser here so, he doesn't really care about what's best for his kingdom or what they want fr.

Anyway, a lot of the Koopa Troop really, really like you, but they are also loyal to their king, and let's be real: some of the troop could probably go without Bowser, but that simply isn't allowed. So, you guys basically have to co-parent the troop, even though you hate each other. They even pick a favorite "parent," lol.

Obviously the relationship will escalate to more of a romantic one once you guys really get to talking and interacting or whateva... and yeah.

There's still a lot for me to figure out like, where does this reader even come from? What draws them to the Koopa Kingdom? Do the Koopa Troop aid Bowser in his escape, or do they get carried away with you being their ruler and he ends up having to escape himself?

Lots for me to think about, and lots of plot holes to fill... but I wanted to know what you guys think of this. Is it something you'd be interested in reading? Does anything already seem inaccurate our OOC?

Oh and btw, if you wanna use some of these ideas in your own works, I don't care!!! Go crazy with it! I'm not necessarily new to writing fanfiction, but I've never been particularly good at it so... if I never end up writing these ideas into real stories, I really don't want them to go to waste! I'm going to try my best, but y'know... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I think it'd be fun to see others takes on these prompts anyway.

I really love Bowser, and there is not enough x reader fanfiction to satisfy me. I just had to post something... I'm going crazy!!!!!!!!! Feral, even! Help me!! 😩

#bowser #bowser x reader #bowser x y/n #super mario bros movie #smb movie #smb #mario movie #bowser fanfiction #super mario x reader #king bowser #bowser x you #super mario movie x reader #tryin to find my ppl 😤#my writing

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luckybunny555 · 7 months

Text

Secret admirer

You receive a strange gift and find out the identity of your secret admirer.

Amber Freeman x GN!/Fem!Reader(no pronouns but for sapphics)

Warnings: creepy behavior, stalking, cursing, usual Ghostface behavior, a little bit of trust issues, being "attacked" but not harmed, mentions of murder and violence(no big description tho), a little suggestive in the end(as a treat ;) )

a/n: Part 2. No bad ending, again. I mentioned a song at some point and if you don't listen to it while reading ur not getting the whole experience, disappointing. also, this one's a bit scarier than part one(at least in my opinion). I'm sorry if ur not actually a scared little bitch like I am, but I made the readed very scared because yes. I didn't proof-read the end bc I used every single brain cell I have to finish this today. I might read it later but no promises.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Because you were texting Amber, you didn't worry about walking home alone. The sun was setting, but you were reaching the front door already.

Amber

I can't believe you fell for that

You

Wha-

Mindy had a straight face when

she said that

I thought she just remembered

the movie better than me

Amber

I literally made you watch it a

hundread times

how could you not remember

also, lmk when you get home

You

what did u expect

I also closed my eyes a hundread

times bc I got scared

I'm already unlocking the door

Amber

ok good

told u you'd be safe with me

;)

You felt a warm feeling in your chest, stupidly staring at her message. The smile on your face was an evident sign of how whipped you were for her. Stepping into your home, you lock the door again, not taking your eyes off your phone.

Amber

I'm throwing a party saturday

My parents will be out, they

got a wedding or smth

ur coming, right?

Your smile grew. "Mom?" you shouted, your voice echoing through the empty house. You finally looked away from your phone, scanning the space around you. The house seemed empty, which was unusual. By that time, your mom should be home. All you could hear was faint music, which your mom probably forgot to turn off before she left the house. You walked towards the kitchen, answering Amber's text.

You

ofc, I never miss ur parties

Amber

Liar

You've missed 3 of my parties

You

ok true, but it wasn't on purpose

I don't have plans this saturday

You find a note on the fridge, "Meeting w/ client @ 5pm". Right. That's where your mom was. You place your phone on the counter, opening the fridge and looking for something to eat. Your phone vibrates again, another notification from Amber

Amber

brb, I'm gonna shower

You read the text from afar, still standing in front of the refrigerator. Grabbing a few ingredients, you place them on the counter, turning off your phone screen. More attuned to your surroundings, you recognize the song playing in the background. "We Belong Together" by Ritchie Valens. You didn't remember where you heard it, though. It was just familiar. And nice to listen to while you cook.

Focused on preparing your food, you're startled by the doorbell. You look at the door with your heart already racing. It was a mundane situation, but does anything feel normal when there's a masked killer around?

Slowly, you approach the door. But instead of opening, you look through the window beside it. No one was there. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, but you try to brush it off. "These fucking kids," you mutter to yourself, walking back to the kitchen.

You

I'm so stupid lol

Some dumb kid just ding-dong

ditched me and I got so scared

Not so long after, you hear the doorbell ring again. You try to convince yourself it's just a stupid prank. A terrible one to play when Ghostface is a threat, but kids are like that, right? This time, you quickly approach the door, determined to catch the person, opening it even though your hands are shaking.

Still, no one is there. But you find something. There's a box on the floor, with a pink bow on top and a note. "Sorry for scaring you :(". You hesitate, but take the box and lock the door again. You put it on the counter, unsure whether or not you should open it. Could it be from that admirer? Or was it from someone else? Before opening it, you decide to get a second opinion.

You

they left a box at my door

there's a note, "sorry for scaring

you"

should I open it?

I think it's from that stalker, but

idk

You wait a few seconds, but she doesn't read your texts. Maybe you should wait longer, but you're curious. It could be great, it could be horrible. Either way, you wanted to know. Maybe your mind was just being dramatic and this was actually a genuine apology gift. You shake the box, trying to make out what it could be, but it doesn't make a lot of noise. Must be something soft and light.

With your hands slightly trembling, you open it. It takes you a split second to understand it, but once you recognize it, you bring your hand to cover your mouth, your breath catching in your throat. Your favorite stuffed animal, one from your collection, with its head cut off. Beside it, another note. "Why didn't you write me back? >:("

Your head was filled with questions, "did they break into my house?", "how did they get it?", "are they still around?". Your phone rings, snapping you out of your momentary trance. It's Amber's number. She probably read your texts and her protective instinct kicked in. Your right hand was still covering your mouth as you reached for your phone. "Amber?"

"Hello, [name]," you don't recognize the voice. It wasn't Amber's, it was a male voice. And then it hits you: Amber's phone was cloned. By Ghostface. At that realization, you gasp, feeling your heart pounding as if it's trying to escape your chest. "Did you like my gift? And my sweet letters?"

You're too shocked to answer. Frozen in place, your only movements are involuntary. The trembling of your hands, the rise and fall of your chest, the accelerated breathing and heartbeats. An uncontrollable fear takes over you. Your eyes are glued to the torn out toy in front of you.

"Will you forgive me for loving you so much that I'm willing to protect you from everything… and everyone?" They speak again, and you slowly remove your hand from your face, supporting your weight against the counter, feeling weak in the knees.

An ounce of rationality is still left in you, despite the terrifying situation you find yourself in. "Where are you?" You ask with your voice shaking, a satisfying sound for Ghostface.

"Don't worry, I'm not inside... yet," the implied threat makes you shut your eyes instinctively, wishing that everything would disappear. But it isn't the brightest idea, so you open them again and look around, trying to stay alert. "Let's play a game, I'll give you three chances to guess who I am. You have to play by the rules. No calling for help, and don't close your curtains. I need to see if you're playing fair."

The last sentence sends a shiver down your spine. They could see you. Your gaze shifts to the window, terrified to see what you'd find. But hopefully, or not, you only saw the sky turning dark. "No..." Your voice shakes again, and you try to hold back your tears of desperation, "I know better than to play games with you."

"Oh, you don't want to play?" They sound displeased, which fills you with dread. "Let's skip forward then, I'll show you who I am," they say impatiently, "Open the front door."

By that time, the tears were falling to your cheeks. Your pants and gasps were audible through the phone, and it felt like your heartbeats were too. You couldn't move, and you obviously didn't want to let them in, but maybe the choice was merely an illusion. Your cries become more evident through the phone.

"Open the damn door, [name], or I'll get in myself and I won't be as nice as I would be," the caller threatened, and you are completely taken over by fear, filling every fiber of your body.

"Please, don't hurt me," you sob, begging for mercy as you turn around, facing the door a few steps ahead of you. You slowly walk towards it, continuing to plead.

"That's not my plan, sweetheart," Ghostface replies on the phone, "as long as you do what I say."

Your hands never trembled as much as they did once they touched the doorhandle. With a deep, shaky exhale, you open the door, facing the terrifying tall frame, covered in black and hidden behind the Ghostface mask. You let out a whimper as more tears fell to your cheeks. You gasp once your eyes meet the shiny blade in their hand.

In a startling, quick move, you were trapped against the wall, with the knife pressed to your neck, and you drop your phone on the floor. Instinctively, you scream, but the gloved hand covers your mouth before you can make a sound loud enough to be heard. They close the door with their feet, the loud noise making you jump in place. You shut your eyes, not wanting to face them.

The two of you were silent for a moment, the faint music filling the eerie atmosphere along with your sobs and loud breaths, followed by Ghostface's amused chuckle. They slowly removed the hand from your mouth, allowing you to breathe more easily, and you open your eyes, scanning the view in front of you. You didn't make a sound, and you tried your best to steady your breaths as much as you could before you had a heart attack.

"I told you I wouldn't hurt you if you behaved," they break the silence, and amidst the turmoil in your mind, you question their intentions and reasons. What made you different to them? Why hadn't they attacked you immediately, like they did with Tara and Vince?

Well, for one, all their love letters and gifts. Somehow, you had Ghostface in love with you, and you just realized that. Two people in one. And now, you could figure out who they actually were.

"Curious?" They ask, noticing the expression on your face, how you bit your lip, making it seem like the wheels in your mind were turning. "Go on, turn it off," the command, tapping on the voice modifier from the mask with their free hand. Your sobs had momentarily ceased, but your hands were still shaking when you hesitantly reached to press the button. You hear a low chuckle behind the mask, "recognize me now?"

It took you a moment to believe it. To make sense of it. Your eyes widened, and the look on your face was clearly of shock. Subconsciously, your lips part slightly in disbelief. How could it be her? "Amber?" you whisper, your voice faltering with hesitancy. You earn a mischevous giggle from the girl in front of you.

Her free hand reaches up, taking off her mask and throwing it on the floor, once again making you jump at the noise. There's a wicked smile imprinted on her face, staining her image in your mind. Noticing your furrowed brows, her expression changes slightly to one of pity, or remorse.

She pouts, her gaze meeting yours with a sympathetic look, "Aw, baby, I'm sorry I had to scare you," her tone changes to a sickingly sweet, an implied mocking of your position and reaction. "I just find it so cute, y'know?"

You weren't expecting that to be her motive. Deep down, it was starting to make you angry at her. But this feeling was buried by the sensation of the cold blade against your neck. And she still had a lot of explaining to do.

"Remember the first time I made you watch Stab?" She asks you, her voice laced with amusement, and a smile growing on her face. "I mean, it' wasn't even such a scary movie, but you were so terrified," she laughs, and even in that terrible moment, you love the sound.

Imperceptibly, she placed a hand on your hip, keeping you in place and maintaining her control. She looks at you with a sweet, satisfied expression. "It was so adorable. I loved how scared you got," she confessed with such a natural, charismatic demeanor, as if she hadn't planned a whole terrifying scene, just for you.

“You were clinging to me and you wanted me to protect you so bad. And I realized, I wanted that too.” With a wide smile, she chuckles mischievously. Her eyes observe you attentively, taking in every detail, every subtle movement. She loved to see your tear-stained cheeks and glossy eyes. It was terrible, and she knew that, but didn't you look impossibly beautiful in that moment? "That night," she continues, her face getting closer to yours as her eyes find your parted lips, "you begged me to let you stay over and to sleep with me. It was fucking cute, seriously," her eyes meet yours again as she lets out a low chuckle. Even though you hated that moment, how scared you were, you still found the genuity in everything she was saying.

"I could barely sleep, because it felt so good to hold you close, and I really felt like I was protecting you, y’know?" Her tone escalates with passion, emphasizing the sincerity in her words. "From what? Nothing. But it was nice.”

It was infuriating to hear everything. To go through all that terror, just because... she liked it? Why would she go so far to scare you?

“But with time you got over it and you didn’t need me anymore. And I still wanted that. I wanted you to need me to protect you," she continues her monologue, a classic after villain reveals. It was really starting to feel like you were in a stupid slasher movie that she likes so much. "I needed some threat, something dangerous to scare you."

You finally find the courage to cut her off, "That's why you did all of this?" Your tone gave away how irritated you were, although still fearful, "Because you wanted me to feel like... I was in a fucking horror movie?" Your voice becomes slightly bolder, in spite of the risk. You couldn't believe her.

She feigns being offended, then exhales with a quiet chuckle. "Sweetheart, the threats were already there," she responds, her grip tightening in response to her growing intensity. "Like that Vince guy. Gosh, he was a weird fucking creep. And you were scared of him, I know that, but he could actually hurt you. And I would never let that happen," she continues to explain her twisted motives. "It couldn’t be anyone else, because I never wanted you to get hurt. I wouldn’t trust anyone else."

At that mention, you recall his murder. You were with your friends at that bar the night he was killed. You were worried about your safety. He was into Liv, and you could very well be his next target. Amber had noticed the way you held her hand in that moment, tightly with worry, but the threat was real, and she wanted to protect you. Which is exactly what she did. What better way to keep you safe than to eliminate the threat? That's how her mind worked.

The slightest hint of understanding was appearing in your expression. A hint that Amber didn't miss, ever so attentive. "Do you get it now?" she asks genuinely, as if everything she did was right. "It had to be me. Because I would never hurt you. Because other people would," her tone is so sweet and caring, you forget she is the one holding the knife to your neck.

Actually, it doesn't matter. She might be holding it, but it means nothing. The girl in front you could've killed you long ago, yet she was confessing everything she did for you, without drawing a single drop of your blood. She might as well be holding the blade against her heart, because the girl is crazy for you, quite literally. If you got hurt, by any means, it would break her. From the moment she fell for you, protecting you was a necessary act to protect herself.

With that understanding, the clarity of your realization, your anger gradually faded. Her elaborate, sick and twisted web had the purpose of protecting you. She was poisoned with love. Could you blame her for her whole performance? (You totally could)

But you didn't. For the same reason you answered your stalker's letters, and opened the gift box. For the same reason you let Amber convince you to watch Stab a thousand times, despite hating horror movies. Yes, you have terrible taste for lovers. But you love the thrill. With her, you'd have security, protection, a little bit of action and lots of excitement. It was a twisted game, but you knew in the end it was safe to play. Because she was completely, head over heels in love with you.

[...]

#scream #scream v #scream 5 #amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman x you #scream 5 x reader #scream x reader

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