#this was when i was debating whether or not to kill off my characters

[lust4life01]

hi! can i req a makeup sex fic with det loki? maybe after he upsets reader or something? thank yousm 💋❤️

Hello my love!!💘 absolutely loving this request, thank youuu <3

Crying while I’m cumin.

Warnings: Slight angst, possessive Loki, fighting, smut, oral fem receiving, penetrating sex, makeup sex. 18+!!

Pairing: David Loki x f/reader

——————————— ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹🍒——————————

The light in your bathroom flickered as you stood in front of the mirror, mascara running down your face as your red eyes focused on yourself. Starring, hoping to find something in the piercing reflection. Snapping out of it, you sniffed and ran your fingers through your hair, maybe trying to make yourself look better as a way to feel better. The overwhelming feeling of anger and fragility pulsing through your chest.

Loki had gotten home in a foul mood today, work had clearly taken it’s toll on him. So when you met him at the door dressed up nicely with your hair and makeup done, clutch in hand, his brows immediately furrowed whilst displaying a face of irritation and distaste. After the day he has he just wanted you to himself. He wanted you to sit against his chest whilst he let out his frustration, but here you were clearly ready for a night of mayhem, without him. At some dinner where he wouldn’t be present as other guys eyes stuck to you like glue. God why were other people taking up your time in this moment and not him?

You greeted him sweetly at the door, looking like a star. “Hey baby! How was work?”

With a face full of confusion and his thick brows knitted, he ignored you and immediately started to scan his eyes up and down you.

“What’s with, this?” he asked, his voice monotone as he motioned his hands up and down your body.

When you explained you were off to grab a drink with a colleague he practically exploded.

He started berating you about how you could have asked him if you could go, which filled you with an unexpected rage. If you were completely honest, you didn’t really want to go anyway. It was your friend who had begged you to come along. However, now that Loki had started to demand you ask for permission and had raised his voice with possession possessing him, the sheer audacity of him made you wanted to jump out of the window and be there as quickly as you could. You argued that you were a grown fucking woman and no one, not even him, was gonna dictate your life. Inevitability this led to huge row from your defensive outraged state and his tired possessive character.

And that’s how you ended up locked in the dim bathroom with just the sound of your sniffles and the taste of your salty tears grazing your plump pink lip. Now, you actually really didn’t want to go out. Your makeup was now smudged and you would have just been a buzz kill. As you sat and the toilet and texted your colleagues that you couldn’t make it, with some bullshit excuse of getting your period and wanted to stay in bed, you heard two light taps on the bathroom door.

A drained but soft and guilty voice followed.

“(Y,n) Baby I-. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being such a jackass, of course you can go out whenever you want. I don’t know I-.” He took a big defeated sigh before he continued.

“I just had a really shitty day and I wanted to be with you, I guess. Not that that excuses raising my voice at you. Fuck, baby I’m so sorry.” His voice shifts into a softer more genuine tone as he continues, almost like he’s on the verge of tears himself “please. open the door, yeah?”

You sit up from the toilet lid and gently walk over to the door, placing your hands on the knob, debating whether you should unlock it. Tired of fighting and crying you just wanted it to be over.

A streak of rage still flowed through you though, but the overwhelming sadness and need for comfort took over you. As the sounds of the lock and knob being moved filled the silence of your response, Loki immediately stood up from his crouched position.

As the door swung open, you stood peering down at you feet, whilst his larger frame stood before you, almost instantly his eyes checked yours. Seeing the smudged makeup and the obvious signs that you had been crying made his stomach ache with guilty. Like he was looking at a lost puppy he had just chucked on the side of the road in a cardboard box as the rain melted it away.

The warm feeling of two big palms clutching your face, which was also red and warm from the previous passionate tears, could be felt immediately as the door opened.

“Fuck. Baby, I’m so so fucking sorry. (Y,n) can you look at me, please?” His face was so fixated on yours, desperately searching for an ounce of forgiveness on your face.

The red puffy eyes smudged with makeup finally made the way to his sympathetic guilty eyes. “Look, it’s fine David. I should have at least told you before you got home, and I kinda didn’t really want to go anyway.”

Those words that fell from your sullen tired voice, both stung and gave Loki a sense of relief. The dreaded fear of being responsible for ruining your night was present, yet also now he could have you all to himself.

“Are you sure baby? You look so pretty, and I was just being an ass.” His eyes desperately scanned yours, yearning for forgiveness.

You touched your forehead to his whilst simultaneously nodding your head. The closest became amplified when Loki’s lips slowly moved down to yours, which reciprocated his kiss.

The pair of your intertwined lips grew stronger, passion taking over as you got a small head rush. Loki hands supported you as he lifted you onto his waist, carrying you down to the bedroom.

As soon as your head hit the pillow, Loki was on top of you. The secure feeling of his lips gracing yours came first and the soft cussioned kisses along your collar bone and chest shortly followed. The only sound in the room was your heavy breathing and the sound of Lokis lips meeting your soft skin. There was a comfortable silent. A silence that spoke so loud, it amplified the comfort and forgiveness that hung around as your two bodies collided.

Loki slowly took off your heals, letting them drop off the end of the bed and pulled down your pretty dress as his eyes failed to leave yours. His eyes searched yours for permission, which they quickly found as you pierced your plump lip and nodded your head lightly.

Once all of your clothes had been discarded, Loki continued to pepper sorry kisses along your stomach and the top of yours thighs, occasionally lightly groaning to highlight his admiration for you.

Through a quiet whimper you practically begged Loki to get on with it, the small touches becoming torturous “David, please.”

That was all you had to say to have him inbetween your thighs. Loki pressed a kiss to your clit before his tongue made its way through your folds. He made sure to take his time and to make sure there wasn’t an ounce of pleasure you hadn’t received. As his touched swirled around your clit your hole pulsated. You whined out, desperate to feel him inside of you.

Loki could feel the tightness of his roots being pulled stronger as you moaned lightly above him. The urge to just be inside you grew stronger, he yearned to be so close to you.

“You want me inside you baby?” His tongue was back on your clit before you could even answer.

Through a desperate whine you complied with his request. “Yes. Please David, need to feel you.”

As soon as he heard your answer he collected your wetness along his raging hard on before resting in front of your entrance.

Taking your hand in his big palm and kissing your neck passionately, he slowly entered you. The stretch of him was so delicious, the fullness he made you feel made your heart pound. Just as his lips made their way to the spot on your neck just below your ear, he started to thrust into you so the intensity of your pleasure was easily accessible to his ears.

His thrust became harder and deeper, the extent of your close proximity only created more passion. He took the time to worship your chest, licking and sucking on your nipples as his thrust continued, until you beckoned him up to your own lips. This intimacy he so desperately craved was what led to your fight, so he was going to the fullest extent to maximise your mural pleasure. As euphoric moans slipping into his mouth from yours he could tell you were close.

The sensation of two large fingers circulating your clit nearly sent you to heaven. Your chest heaved as he continued his deep thrusts and put pressure on your clit, which eventually ended with your head thrown back, chants of his name, and the feeling of your pussy gushing around him. There were tears in your eyes as you came, quickly followed by groans from David as he also came hard. His hot cum rested inside of you as he panted in front of your face.

The dark room now filled with the sounds of shallow breathing as you both came down from your orgasms. Grabbing his jaw, you brought your lips together again until he gently pulled out from you as you let out a small hiss from the loss of contact.

Rolling over to the space on the bed next you, he pulled you into his arms tightly. Skin to skin.

He kissed your head and muttered “I love you. I’m sorry.”

You whispered into his ear “I love you too. I’m also sorry.”

A moment of comfortable silence passed until you spoke once again.

“So, your day. You want to talk about it?”

Loki had never been much of a talker. He’s more of a guy who bottles shit up or drinks some strong whiskey as a cure for the awful day. Until he met you. You emphasised the importance of talking stuff out, and he knew how much it went to you when he let you in.

Letting a small sigh he gently stroked your head. “Yeah. Okay.”

——————————————————————————-

Ahhh hope you enjoy!! This was kinda rushed and not proof read but very fun to write 💘🙈

#jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal smut #david loki #david loki smut #david loki fanfiction #angst #makeup sex #prisoner #request

[idontdrinkgatorade]

obsessed with this thing i found from a three-year-old reference document

#i mean to be honest. the main story was still brutal even before i made all the changes to the plot #you can tell this is from before i started getting into psychological horror bc i still planned a happy ending rather than a whole tragedy #this is before there were multiple iterations...this is when there were still plans for acanthus and sayako to ascend as gods #so many leftovers from my bad junior high ideas #which were somehow just as brutal #this was when i was debating whether or not to kill off my characters #bc i traded that out for making them immortal...

[rock-in-robins]

so like reverse robins, if done right, i love em. anything reverse robins i ever write will never have Steph become Babs. it doesn't make sense to her character for her to become oracle, would she be great at it, absolutely, but it doesn't make sense.

there's always debate on whether it should be Steph or Tim to die and more or less become Jason. my answer is that Tim get's joker jr'd and kills himself (+ the joker if your so inclined (but joker would have to be revived somehow for plot reasons) (you can make it Bruce if you want more angst)) then Steph becomes robin because Tim always talked about how gotham needed a robin and she wanted to honor him in a way only she could. then the thing with black mask happens and she still fakes her death travels, heals, grieves, and comes back when she heard bruce picked up a new kid. (Jason wasn't robin yet, just living in the manor but Steph new it was only a matter of time)

so she comes back to gotham and decides she's gonna take care of crime alley her way, and revamps her old spoiler costume. (she may not have grown up there but she was a few streets away and she knew what a place like that did to kids) (she also has no ties to Bruce anymore so her no killing thing gets a whole lot more lax)(she kills her father - that's how bruce and the others found out shes back in town). and openly feuds with black mask over territory and brutally maims him but like just a bit.

Then Jason becomes robin and six months later Tim is back. he's different and definitely a bit more unhinged, but efficient as ever. he quickly takes over the drug trade and helps Steph get rid of the worst of the worst. But doesn't do the whole try to make Bruce kill the joker thing, instead he makes Bruce watch as Tim does and warns him that if he tries to revive the joker again (damian aka nightwing def killed the joker & Bruce brought him back) that they Will Have Problems. Tho he is going as Joker Jr. as a fuck you and a threat to pretty much everyone, after all they all knew what happened to the 2nd robin.

In summary Tim & Steph split up the Red Hood traits

Duffle bag of heads - tim, he's dramatic

Died (like burried in a grave and crawled out died) - tim

Guns - Steph

The joker - tim (but steph will shoot the fucker on sight so help her god)

Black mask war - steph (obvi)

Crime alley - steph mainly (but tim lurks around and every crime alley kid & sex worker knows that if they ever need something JJ will take care of it no questions asked)

Drug trade - tim

Scaring/pissing B off - both, they make it a game

Murder - both as a treat

#also didn't know where to put this but steph and tim have a shared gang where they awkwardly coparent their goons #so like there a 2 fics in mind for this au so far #one based off 'work song' by hozier #and the other is crime alley learning to trust JJ/RedHood!Tim #this starts out as TimSteph like when tim first comes back from the grave but they talk and process and realise their better off as friends #reverse robins #kaz's reverse robins #tim drake #bruce wayne #stephanie brow #dc spoiler #joker junior #batman #dc batman #dc robin #robin

[yizmiu]

SITUATIONSHIP 〻ᯇ # lee heeseung

001. BOMBOCLAAT | smau + written 760 wrds

IN WHICH ✶ y/n loved the idea of love, simply because she hadn’t experienced it yet. She hoped and prayed that love would come to her at the perfect time of her life where she’s mentally stable and ready for it. So when she suddenly gets attention from Lee Heeseung—she can’t tell if she likes this or not? This sudden attention, he was extremely sweet to her, way too sweet that it was suspicious. Given his reputation, Heeseung wasn’t the type to settle. So why was he all up on Y/n? and just why was Y/n enjoying it? She was confused with herself and her new situationship, maybe she’s just overstimulated by everything and scared to commit.

“Oh my god, Hani! You just stole my kill.” Y/n groaned in disbelief. “Oh, I’m sorry.” The boy laughed, “I’ll let you have the kills, I'll just assist you now.”

“There’s shooting to the right, let’s rush!” Seunghan said as his and Y/n’s characters sprinted towards the shooting. “Okay. You got that, Y/n!”

“OKAY NEVERMIND PLEASE COME HELP ME!” Y/n shouted as everything went downhill as soon as she started shooting. “I DONT GOT THIS I DON’T THINK I’M THAT GOATED.” She rapidly spoke as she tapped quickly at her mouse.

“I got it.” Seunghan said as he quickly killed the team that was attacking Y/n. “Thank you, Hani. You’re my savior.” Y/n sighed in relief.

“Of course, we just have one more person now. Let’s go to find them.”

—

“Hi, chat!” Heeseung waved to his webcam. “Me and Jake are gonna play a little fort today, maybe some roblox if I feel like it.” Heeseung explained the game plan for his stream today.

“Hi, chat.” An Australian accent spoke out, breaking the sound barrier which hurt Heeseungs ears, along with chat’s. “Jake, your mic is so loud bro.” Heeseung laughed as he switched the screen to discord, where you could see Jake adjusting the volume of his mic.

“Is this better?” Jake asked, Heeseung nodded his head approving the sound quality of his mic.

“Chat, I was just peacefully playing Sims 4 when Heeseung-Hyung suddenly tweets saying we are playing fortnite? I didn’t agree to this at first, I was busy making the boys.” Jake argues. “Jake likes to also give himself a girlfriend, right?” Heeseung teases, with a smirk on his face.

“Hyung, you know my dm’s are crazy filled.” Jake tried to show off. “Whatever, let’s just play fort, is your update done?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, do you want to play squads for the shits and giggles? We can just hope they have mics.” Heeseung suggested. “Yeah, playing with strangers…can be interesting sometimes.”

“Okay, ready up.” Heeseung says and Jake does so.

The two loaded into the game, being put into a squad with the users, “HaniHehe” and “FashionQueen127”.

“FashionQueen127? What kind of username is that?” Heeseung asked. “Says you, KittyDestroyer.com??” Y/n asked in confusion.

“I’m a kitty destroyer, it’s very literal.”

“And I’m a fashion queen, it’s very literal.” Y/n said seriously which made Heeseung and Jake laugh.

“I’m only playing around.” Heeseung chuckled. “HaniHehe, is your name Hani?” Jake asked. “It’s my nickname, my name is Seunghan.” Seunghan answered. “That’s cool! I’m Jake, duh, it's in my username.” Jake scoffed at himself.

“I’m Heeseung, what’s your name, FashionQueen127– Do you like NCT?” Heeseung asked mid sentence. “I do like NCT!” Y/n said with some excitement. “Oh, and my name is Y/n.”

“I’m streaming right now, say hi to my chat.” Heeseung said as he pinpointed “Fencing Fields”. “Let’s go to “fencing fields.”

“Hi, Chat.” Seunghan and Y/n said at the same time. “What’s your twitch username?” Seunghan asked. “It’s just my name Lee Heeseung.”

Y/n and Seunghan knew who Lee Heeseung was, hello who didn’t know Lee Heeseung?

The two went silent for a second, debating whether or not they should mention the fact that they both go to the same college as him.

“What’s your twitter?” Y/n asked. “It’s heeseung2earth! Do you listen to wave2earth?” Y/n loves wave2earth, she even saw them live once. “I love them! I saw them live before! I’m about to follow you.”

“Me too!” Seunghan said as he pulled his phone out. “Hey, I want new followers too. My user is jaeyun.sim!” Jake said.

user ynzhng has followed you!

user honghani has followed you!

Heeseung looked at his phone, looking at their profiles before following. Stunned at Y/n’s profile, he thought she was pretty.

“You guys go to Primrose? We go to Primrose!” Heeseung gasped as he followed the two. “Small world.” Y/n awkwardly chuckled.

“You knew who I was, didn't you?” Heeseung smirked. “Yeah, we did.” Y/n confessed, “You don’t know who we are– who I am at least so I didn’t say anything.” Y/n chuckled.

“What do you major in?” Heeseung asked as he looked around for loot. “Fashion.” Y/n answered plainly.

“And you major in dance right, Seunghan?” Heeseung asked, Seunghan was a familiar face to him.

“Yeah, I do.”

“You’re in…the Riize crew, right?” Heeseung tried to remember what dance crew the other was in. “Yes, I am!”

“That’s cool! Chat, we just made new friends!”

m.list — previous — next

ᯇ ೀ jayjay note ; yasssssss first chap, feedback is always appreciated!

ᯇ ೀ taglist ( open ) ; @lilacnini @haechology @heegyuwrld @wonyoungsvirus @enhaz1 @sparklingsjy @skzeyeu @euncsace @hotsforikeu @simjyunnie @yenqa @eleanorheartschishiya @ahnneyong @teddywonss @parkwonbinluvr @k1ttylvr @doulcie

#enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smau #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #heeseung smau #heeseung x you #lee heesung x reader #heeseung x reader #heeseung fluff #heeseung scenarios #heeseung fanfic #heeseung #heeseung social media au

[ddarker-dreams]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[eelfuneral]

I know that I’ve touched on the harassment that people are getting for posting theories about Tech being alive, but there is another element that I believe we should discuss: the fact that the harassment is being disproportionately lobbed at autistic fans. Now, I’m not trying to imply that all of the people leaving these nasty comments are sitting around thinking about how much they hate autistic people, but whether they realize it or not, the types of posts that they tend to leave nasty comments on tend to be posts made by people displaying what might be autistic traits. In fact, a lot of posts that have these harassing comments are made by people who make it no secret that they are autistic and sometimes even mention it in their bio.

So what do I mean when I say that a lot of these posts may hint at OP being autistic? For starters, autistic brains tend to latch onto things with a great deal of intensity, and sometimes our brains latch onto specific fictional characters. We know logically that these characters are not real and that there are objectively more important things to worry about, but our brains simply do not care. Focused autistic interests are a source of a lot of comfort and stability for us in a world that is often overwhelming, and they are important to us as a result. A lot of the people dogging the Tech posts seem to take issue with how “obsessed” people are with the character and his survival, which in some cases, is due to OP simply being autistic and having a focused interest.

Another trait that can manifest in autistic people is difficulty with emotional regulation, meaning that even “small” things can make us more upset than our peers. The people leaving harassing replies seem to have picked up on the fact that people are “too emotional” over a fictional character and sometimes even make their replies extra graphic (ie. “he’s rotting at the bottom of the chasm”, “he’s flesh paste”) in order to get a rise out of the OP. Obviously, not everyone who makes posts like these or has these challenges is autistic, but I believe that my point still stands that going after people with these traits will cause autistic people to be disproportionately targeted, which is an ableist pattern.

Sometimes, however, the harassment feels more intentionally targeted at autistic fans. A lot of Tech fans really value Tech as autistic representation and feel like killing him off in our current popular culture environment where a fair chunk of autistic portrayals are negative is in poor taste. The “Tech is dead, get over it” harassers blatantly ignore or ridicule these statements, showing zero empathy to the people who feel seen because of this character. I have seen people bulldoze into posts where autistic fans talk about how much they hope he survives because they see themselves in him with comments like “he’s dead, get over it.” In one instance, I saw an allistic fan tell an autistic fan that Tech was “forced diversity” and that if Disney was going to attempt autistic representation, then the character shouldn’t be “boring” like Tech. I don’t think I really need to explain why this is inappropriate.

It’s fine to disagree with a popular fan theory or debate about it in good faith with someone who is up to it, but what I am seeing goes well beyond that. Harassment is never, ever okay, and you should know better than to leave replies like the ones in these screenshots below when you see a fan theory that you don’t agree with.

#the bad batch #fandom ableism #tbb tech

[httplilyyy]

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 || 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: after a violent night involving ghostface, feelings rise to the surface.

warnings: blood, descriptions of violence, knives, guns, character death, swearing, bad writing

word count: 3.5k

a/n: this is my first fic for tara and the scream franchise so i hope its up to standards and that you’ll like it :)

scream masterlist

If somebody was to tell you a year a go this is where you would be, you would’ve laughed in their faces. Yet here you were, sitting in the back of a car with your best friend, Tara, beside you, frantically looking for her inhaler.

You had known the Carpenters for your whole life, living next door to them came with pros and cons but you couldn’t have been more grateful for the friendship that had formed between you and Tara.

However, it was only as of lately, you had started to grow feelings for the younger Carpenter. Yet you decided it was best to bury those feelings, even if it hurt you in the process.

You were falling in love and you were falling fast. Whilst you were so caught up in your own thoughts you missed the way that Tara looked at you. Her inhaler was long forgotten, only the thought of you was on her mind.

Sam made Richie drive to Amber’s house to see if she had Tara’s spare inhaler and she noticed the two of you were very quiet in the back.

The both of you were pining over each other, however, the only thing stopping the two of you from telling your true feelings to each other was the fact that you were best friends. As well as a certain murderer trying to kill Tara and Sam.

You weren't actually sure when it all went wrong. How you went from getting Tara’s spare inhaler to you being chased through Stu Macher’s old house, trying to escape Ghostface.

Sprinting up the stairs, you found a room and made a beeline for it. After managing to close the door just in time you pushed a dresser in front of it, making sure that no one could get in.

You grunt as you let your back hit the wall, sliding down it until you come to a stop when you meet the floor. Your tense body goes limp as you sit there, heavy breaths falling from your lips.

Finally managing to catch your breath for only a second, when you heard grunting coming from a closet. Heart rate increasing at the possibilities, you cautiously got up from the ground and made your way towards the sound.

Hand resting on the handle, you contemplated whether you should open it or not. That little debate didn't go on for long and you swiftly opened the closet door.

To your surprise, Tara was sitting on the floor, bound and gagged, eyes wide with fear.

“Tara.” You muttered quietly, shock written on your features.

You searched your pockets for anything sharp when you felt the knife you had tucked into the belt of your jeans. Carefully, you cut through the duct tape on Tara’s wrists and she was quick to get rid of the tape around her mouth.

“W-what the hell is happening?” Tara rushed out. “And why do you have a knife?”

“Oh! I took it from the kitchen amongst others.” You smiled, but soon realised that may not have been the best thing to do.

“Why do you need more than one? If you’re going to kill me-”

“No! No, of course not.” You cut Tara off. “Not you at least.”

“What does that mean?” Tara questioned, a slight tremble was heard in her voice.

“What’d you say we kill these fuckers, huh?” You whispered, tilting your head a little.

“And how exactly is that going to work?” Tara wondered, gesturing to her broken leg.

“I have a plan, do you trust me?” You asked, holding your hand out.

‘Do you trust me?’ The question runs laps around in Tara's mind. Does she trust you? Of course she does, you're her best friend after all, but in this situation, she’s not so sure. How can she trust you after everything she has been through? How did she know if you weren't the killer?

Hesitantly, she took your hand, letting you pull her up from the ground.

“One wrong move and you're dead.” Tara mumbled, a stern look on her face.

“I wouldn't doubt it,” you smiled, “if you don't kill me then your sister probably will.”

“Okay, so how is this going to work?” Tara asked as she pointed between the two of you.

“You’re going to play the helpless victim, whilst I play Ghostface.” You smirked.

“This is how I die.” Tara said quietly, which you didn't miss, but she nodded her head, agreeing to your plan.

“I’m going to need you to be really quiet. Can you do that for me?” You questioned, placing your knife under her chin, tilting her head to look up at you.

Tara wordlessly nodded, a slight flicker of fear behind her features as she looked into your eyes.

“Good girl.”

Retracting your knife away from Tara, you frantically looked around the room for one specific thing. That of which you found in the same very closet Tara was in only moments ago.

You pulled out a Ghostface mask and costume, turning to Tara, you held up the item of clothing, the smile on your face only growing wider.

“Would you like to play a game, Tara?” You asked and what you said seemed to trigger something inside her.

“W-what did you just say?”

“Are you ready?”

“N-no y-you said-”

“I’m just messing with you.”

“I don’t- I-”

"I've got this handled, okay? Stop worrying so much”

“Yeah, okay.” Tara breathed.

“I’ve got to make it a little believable, don’t I?”

“Right,” Tara trailed off, “so what do you want me to do?”

“Follow me.” You smiled before pulling on the Ghostface mask.

“Thank God you’re okay…” You heard Richie say, a trembling Tara rested in your arms. “Because I really wanted to be the one to kill you.”

Richie stabbed Sam in her side and you had put a hand over Tara’s mouth to stop the scream that threatened to fall from her lips.

Sam stared at her boyfriend in disbelief, sinking to her knees as the second ghostface revealed themselves as Amber.

Richie leaned down next to Sam, taking the gun from her, gently, before handing it to Amber.

“I know. It’s a bummer, it's me." Richie said before he held up the Ghostface verbalizer, “But it’s really the best twist for the movie.”

“No…” Sam trailed off.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“This isn’t... a fucking movie…”

“No. But it will be. And that’s the point, right Amber?

“Right, hon.” Amber agreed, looking around. “Third Act bloodbath, check. Killers revealed, check... Time for the big finale. Let’s get ‘em into the kitchen.”

Amber forced Sidney to her feet, pushing her with the gun as Richie carried a bleeding Sam into the kitchen. All whilst you and Tara stood watching the whole thing.

Tara was desperately trying to get out of your arms but you held a tight grip on her. At one point she nearly escaped but you pushed her into a nearby wall.

“Stop.” You said, placing a hand back over Tara's mouth. “We have to wait.”

“Fuck you.” Tara spat, pulling your hand from her face.

“I’m flattered, really, but not now, maybe later.” You teased.

“You’re a dick.” tara mumbled, punching your arm, not having any malicious intent behind it.

“I’m trying to help you.” You whisper-shouted.

“By making me watch my sister get stabbed? How is that helping me?”

“I’m your best friend! I'm always going to help you.”

Those words, although they were reassuring, felt like a knife to the heart for the both of you. Best friends. Nothing more. Never.

“Enough with this secret shit! Tell me what you are going to do!”

You were about to reply when you heard Amber shout, ‘she’s not here’ from upstairs.

“The fuck do you mean she’s not there?” Richie yelled back, turning to face Sam.

“I guess you are finally going to see what I am going to do.” You said, placing a knife in each of her pockets, one for her, the other for her sister.

You pulled Tara by the arm, dragging her into the kitchen with your own knife pressed against her neck.

“Of course she’s not up there.” You said, the Ghostface vocaliser changing the tone of your voice. “She’s right here.”

Richie turned around to face you and his eyes rose along with Sam’s, Sidney’s and Gale’s, all in complete shock that there was another Ghostface.

“A third?” Gale questioned, hand tight against her side. “You've gotta be shitting me.”

“Oh, I am going to enjoy this.” You laughed tauntingly as you pressed the knife harder onto Tara’s neck, but not enough to hurt her.

“Tara…” Sam gasped, her eyes darting between you and her sister.

“W-who are you?” Richie asked, pointing his knife towards you.

“What you can’t be.” You shrugged.

“And what’s that?”

“I guess you’ll have to find that one out, won’t you?” You said, tilting your head.

“Is this some shitty little game you’re trying to play?”

“Possibly.”

“Right, and who dies first?”

“You.”

“Amber?” Richie yelled, desperately trying to find the girl.

At that point, Amber returned and stopped in her tracks once she saw you. Confused as to how there was another Ghostface, she watched as you looked over your shoulder, slowly, as if you were teasing her.

“Hello, Amber.” You said. “What a lovely surprise. I must say I expected more.”

“I’m sorry?” Amber asked incredulously.

“Oh it's okay, you can still redeem yourself.” You chuckled.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“Now, now, let's not get angsty here.” You said, pushing Tara towards her sister carefully.

“Who the fuck are you?” Richie questioned again.

“If you don’t tell us who the fuck you are we will slit your throat” Amber sneered.

“Oh, no.” You said sarcastically. “I’m sooo scared.”

“Tell us who you are!”

“Fine.” You shouted, throwing your hands up in the air. “I’m a big fan.”

“Of who? Us?” Richie asked.

“No, of course not,” you chuckled, “of Sidney and Gale, duh.”

“So why are you dressed as Ghostface?” Sidney questioned.

You turned to face the older woman, but you were actually looking at Tara. The younger Carpenter gave you a discrete nod which you returned.

“So we can kill them.” You replied, turning back to face Amber whilst Tara placed the knife you gave her in her sister's hand as well as taking the other for her.

“We?” Richie wondered out loud and before he could even think, you had tackled Amber to the ground, Sam doing the same to Richie.

Sidney, Gale and Tara watched on as the four of you rolled around on the floor, trying to kill one another. Both Sidney and Gale, helped Tara get out of the kitchen and make their way out of the house.

You were straddling Amber, using some, but not all, of your strength to push the blade of your knife between her eyes. Behind you, you could hear Sam struggling to wrestle with Richie.

Grunting, you pushed the knife down onto Amber, however, it only went through her clavicle on her right. With one final punch to the face, Amber was knocked out unconscious which left just enough time for you to get to Sam.

You watched as Richie placed the barrel of his gun to Sam’s forehead but before he could pull the trigger you tackled him to the ground. The sound of the gun went off and a searing pain was felt on your bicep.

“That actually hurt. Wow.” You said, ripping off your mask, revealing your face.

“You?!” Richie exclaimed, standing back up.

“Yes, me. Don’t seem so surprised.” You replied, holding your hand over your fresh wound as you stood up too.

“Why?”

“For shits and giggles.” You deadpanned as you slowly stalked towards Amber once again, but before you could get closer, Richie stepped in front of you. "Move."

Richie did and he circled around you, waiting for your next move. Once you took a step forward Richie attacked you from behind.

You had expected for Richie to try and hit you so you easily dodged his fist. You grabbed his arm and threw him over your shoulder trying to get him to fall to the floor but he just did a forward roll and got up again. This time you were face to face.

“Sam get out of here.” You shouted over your shoulder, receiving a punch to the gut from Richie, causing you to stumble backwards.

Sam listened to you and she scrambled to her feet, she bolted out of the kitchen and made a run for the front door.

“Saaaaaaam! Where you going? Your big scene’s coming up!” Richie yelled, forgetting about you and following the older Carpenter out of the kitchen.

“Looks like it's just you and me.” You said, standing over Amber's body, watching as she came back into consciousness.

Before Amber could get up, you shot a hand out and wrapped it around her throat. The girl desperately clawed at your forearm, trying to get you to release your grip.

You pulled her up so she was standing on her feet and threw her over the kitchen counter. But before you knew it she had gotten up, taken a knife from the counter and charged towards you.

Before you could even comprehend what was going on, another gunshot was sounded throughout the house, then a thud. As Amber's body fell you saw Tara stand behind her, gun in hand as she leaned onto the door frame.

“Tara, what the hell?” You exclaimed, rushing over to her.

“Stop!” Tara shouted, holding the gun up to your head.

“Tara-” You said, voice a little quieter than it was before, holding your hands up in surrender.

“Stop.” Tara said again, this time however her lip trembled as her voice broke.

“I have, I'm not moving until you want me to.”

“Where’s my sister?”

“She went off to find you, I presume, but other than that I don't know.”

“Come with me.” Tara said, walking off into another room but as soon as you were going to follow her, Amber came up behind you and stabbed you in the back.

You let out a low, pained yell. Hearing as Amber laughed behind you, you felt her push the knife in deeper.

Crumpling to your knees, you felt as if your senses had been dialled to a thousand. You could suddenly feel everything, from how fast your heart was beating to the bead of sweat falling down your temple.

“Shit.” You heard someone whisper from behind you and then you felt the knife being pulled from your back.

Falling to your hands, you looked to the side and saw Sidney and Gale fight Amber. You watched as Sidney crashed a bottle over Amber's head, the girl losing her footing and hitting the floor.

Not wasting any more time, you stumbled to your feet and looked at the women in appreciation before stumbling as quickly as you could to find Tara.

“I’m introducing a new rule…” You heard Sam mutter.

You rounded a corner and saw Tara watching from afar, stuck in her spot as Sam crawled away from Richie.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Richie taunted, watching as Sam inched forward but not noticing her wrapping her fingers around a knife.

“Come here and I’ll tell you…”

Richie kneeled, grabbing the hair on the back of Sam’s head, wrenching her face to his.

“Well?”

“Never fuck with the daughter of a serial killer.” Sam whispered as she stabbed Richie in the face. The blade went through his cheek into his mouth before coming out the other side.

She didn’t stop there. She continued to stab his chest and stomach. Richie fell backwards, grouting blood, stunned. Sam straddled him and continued her onslaught.

“But... I can’t die... Who’s gonna be the villain in the sequel..?”

“That’s the sequel’s problem.” Sam grunted before she slit his throat.

Sam rose unsteadily, dropping the knife to her side when Sidney and Gale appeared from the kitchen.

“Be careful, they always come back-” Sidney said as Sam took the gun from her hand and emptied the entire clip onto Richie's body, the last one going straight through his skull.

A beat goes past as Sidney and Gale exchange a look.

“Okay then.” Gale uttered, in complete shock.

The silence is quickly interrupted by Amber screaming, a knife raised in her hand as she advanced on the three standing above Richie's body.

But before she could even get close, Tara had pulled the trigger of the gun she was holding, the bullet going through Amber's head as she fell to the floor for one last time.

You stood behind Tara, watching her in shock, not thinking she had it in her but soon noticed as her fake exterior broke down as she stumbled over to her older sister.

The two of them embraced in a long and much needed hug. You stepped closer, tripping over your own feet, mainly due to blood loss.

Tara sniffled, lifting her head from Sam’s chest before turning to you. Tara didn't say anything as she walked towards you. She just put her hand around the base of your neck and brought your head towards hers so she could place her lips on yours.

The sudden action had stunned you, breath catching in your throat. You did not expect her to kiss you, especially in front of her sister. But as your brain started to register what was going on, you finally kissed back, putting your hands on her waist pulling her closer.

The kiss started out slow, almost hesitant, but quickly began to build. You grinned into the kiss, tightening your hands on Tara’s waist. As the two of you were pressed against each other, Tara moved her hands and wrapped them around your shoulders.

You pulled away reluctantly, resting your forehead on Tara’s. Letting out a small chuckle, you placed one last kiss to her lips before pulling her into a hug.

“I’m so glad you’re safe.” You whispered, feeling as Tara tightened her grip around you.

“All because of you.” Tara replied, pressing a kiss to your cheek as she pulled back to look in your eyes. “Even if your plan was utterly stupid.”

“It worked though, didn’t it?” You grinned.

“Luckily.” Tara scoffed, teasingly as she rolled her eyes.

“What’d you say we finally get out of here?” You questioned.

“I would love that.” Tara smiled, leaning against your side as she turned to look at her sister.

“Let's go then.” Sam said, replicating her sister's smile, opening the door for everyone.

The sun crests over the horizon as police cars and ambulances line the street. EMT’s rushed each of you to an ambulance to get treated for your wounds.

You sat beside Tara, holding onto one of her hands as Sam held the other. An EMT stitched up the stab wound on your back having already treated the one on your bicep.

The whole time you didn’t look away from Tara, exchanging smiles every now and then. Once you were fully patched up the EMT went off somewhere leaving you with the Carpenters.

“So.. are you two a thing now then?” Sam asked, a teasing smile plastered on her face.

“Sam!” Tara groaned, leaning into you, hiding her face in the crook of your neck.

“What? You did kiss them in front of me.” Sam said, chuckling at her sister's reaction.

“That’s up to y/n.” Tara mumbled into your neck and Sam raised her eyes to you, eyebrow quirking in question.

“Well, Tara? Would you be my girlfriend?” You asked, smiling as you felt her cheeks get hotter due to your question.

“Yeah, I'd love to.” Tara replied, removing her face from your neck to answer your question before pulling you into another quick kiss.

“You better treat her right, y/n.” Sam said, her protective side coming out.

“I will.” You said, smiling down at Tara in your arms.

“Good.” Sam nodded.

“Do you want to come with us?” Tara asked, looking between you and her sister, silently asking if that was okay, getting a nod from Sam.

“Of course, I'd go anywhere with you.” You said, squeezing Tara’s hand.

“Can you take us to a different hospital this time?” Tara asked the EMT that walked up to you three.

The EMT nodded and walked to the front of the ambulance, Sam noticed Sidney and Gale sitting in the back of another ambulance and told the two of you she would be back in a second.

Whilst Sam went off to speak to Sidney and Gale, you helped Tara get onto a stretcher. Once she was lying comfortably you sat beside her, holding her hand once again.

Sam hobbled back to the ambulance where you and Tara were in a deep conversation, the two of you talking animatedly.

She smiled at the sight and climbed into the back, taking a seat beside you. The two of you quietened your conversation and started a new one with Sam.

An EMT shut the doors and started the ambulance, turning on its sirens before finally pulling away from the dreaded property of Stu Macher’s old house.

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter imagine #tara carpenter imagines #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega imagines #scream #scream 5

[strawberry-crocodile]

hi, you asked about the d20 finale drama. i have been following it- i have no idea how familiar you are with d20 as a whole, i know you said you werent keeping up with it so i'll try to explain as best i can!

the most recent season of d20 was fantasy high: junior year. fantasy high takes place in an 80s-inspired (but still has modern day tech- think movies like ferris bueller's day off or the breakfast club) dungeons and dragons setting (so like there are elves, halflings, etc). the main cast are high schoolers going to aguefort academy, where they are learning to be adventurers.

the season had a very disappointing ending for a lot of people. one of the main things that had been set up is that the PC party (the bad kids) had a group of foils, the rat grinders, who all were genderswapped and had the same classes and were generally approached as being foils. the leader of this group is 16 year old kipperlilly copperkettle, a halfling rogue with severe anger issues who, notably, was going to therapy for them but never seemed to improve. it's also later revealed that the rat grinders had been 'rage-starred'- implanted with crystals that make you incandescently angry. this was connected to their activities in sophomore year, where something happened and their cleric, lucy frostblade, died because she was unwilling to accept the rage star- she was later replaced by one of the PCs' younger brother.

it's also important to note that all of these foils had been groomed by their adult teacher, who wanted to bring back a goddess of rage and destroy all the other gods. so naturally a lot of people were like oh we're going to engage with themes of rage vs doubt and how mindless rage is a bad thing and rage vs justice.

um. that didn't happen. the penultimate & final episodes were a giant 'final battle' type of situation where instead of getting engagement with the themes of the story, we get all the characters angrily and brutally killing their foils (one character says they should cut off another (manipulated, mind controlled!) character's head off in order to make sure he can never be revivified; another character tells a 16 year old girl he's going to skin her, turn her into a rug, and have sex on top of her corpse). in the final episode, there is a for-real like half hour long segment where the PCs debate whether any of the 16 year olds 'deserve' to be brought back to life and eventually decide all of them can come back except for kipperlilly, because she willingly accepted the rage star. no acknowledgement that she was like still manipulated or that she was TRYING to get help, or her critiques of the bad kids or of the school or the system...). in the same episode, a PC says "it's also super black and white to think, like, this person was bad, or this person was good" and "they can be bad and still not deserve to be sliced in half" lol. like. okay but you just sliced like 6 teenagers in half?

it's not that i'm opposed to a dnd game where you slice teens in half, btw. it's just that it feels like you get these wildly opposing ideas of 'okay here are the themes that players & the dm are like Saying in roleplay and what they seem to want to believe, and here is what is actually happening in the story, and it's wildly dissonant and leaves a bad taste in my mouth'. (inb4 d20 stans come in and are like but its just an actual play you cant hold it to other artistic standards- Yes I Can lol).

so. yeah. i feel like it's a really good example of how dnd 5e just makes everyone push towards combat as the solution to stuff, and it's further worsened by the way d20 works where bc they make these huge set pieces, so many different campaigns end in like, a final battle on this (frankly gorgeous) miniature set up. which is lovely, but means that players and production and the DM are pushing toward combat as the resolution even when it doesn't necessarily fit, and makes them look towards combat as the only way out in a lot of situations. and it really makes roleplay suffer. i must also say that it's been widely acknowledged that this season of d20 suffered for like, a lot of shooting crammed into a short amount of time, so people really didnt have a lot of time to reflect on their decisions the way they did in sophomore year where they had like a week between sessions to think over the plot and what could happen and what's next.

Oh my god that is way fucking worse than I expected holy shit.

Anyway yeah i HAVE to think about how like.... the rules for combat in Thirsty Sword Lesbians by design use that combat as a way to create an emotional connection between combatants and set up roleplaying opportunities (instead of taking 1d8+4 damage, your opponent inflicts something like Angry or Insecure on you). One of the like dozen generic actions is to use Strings (emotional influence you can get from fighting someone) to like... influence people and change their perspective, often during a combat situation.

So like. Yeah. If THAT was what everyone's character sheet looked like I imagine they might have, yknow, tried to interact with NPC goals and personalities instead of interacting with their hit points

#blogodile #anti 5e action

[anime-owo-kage-san]

Mindless Kindness (Freakshow!Funnybunny)

(Pomni is still favored by Caine in this fic, but, not in a Showtime sense. He’s more on just making sure his shiny new addition, isn’t getting ruined too soon.)

Forgive me if they’re out of character, or I got something wrong. I wasn’t sure how to make this work. The characters personalities are moslty from my personal headcannons, and assumptions about them.

Also, while I think hootbon stated Caine is more lenient with both Pomni and AIngle, for this, he just likes Pomni a little bit more.

Jax x Pomni aren’t canon in the AU. I just like the ship.

Freakshow belongs to: @hootbon

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Pomni was never one to speak her mind.

Well…maybe she was. But, not anymore.

Because, apparently trying to express your human feelings, can get you killed or demented. (Or in Ragatha’s case; permanently silenced).

Although she’ll just come back, because death isn’t possible in this world (except for one type of dying…), it’s still not a pleasant thing to experience, whether it be by an accident during an adventure, or by the hands of the ringleader, or by the hands of the other trapped members.

After her first encounter with the twins, Pomni avoided Gangle like the plague. The living teary eyed porcelain mask, turned out to be just as violent and murderous as her ‘sister’; resulting in the wooden ballerina’s first ‘Game Over’.

And she never wanted to repeat the mistake she made ever again.

But at the moment; there she was, confused with her own internal debating, of whether to approach the twins once more or not.

Pomni was just planning on sleeping for the rest of the leisure hour, until Caine called them up for showtime again. She wasn’t expecting to pass by, a scene like…. this.

Right before her eyes, were the twisted twins. Gangle wasn’t really doing anything, only silently watching behind her conjoined sister, as she carried on with her sadistic joke.

AIngle was once again puppeteering the lifeless Kaufmo with her ribbons. Making him dance, smile, and wave, at an uncomfortable Jax, who was trying to be nonchalant about the cruel joke.

“Jax ol’ buddy! It’s me! Wanna joke around?” AIngle said, using her Kaufmo voice. “C’mon, let’s do something together!”

“Come on, bunny rabbit. Don’t you think it’s rude to ignore you best friend?” AIngle said using her regular voice, as she shook the clown around.

Gangle tried to intervene, “I-I don’t think you should—“

“I don’t think I asked you to speak.” AIngle cut off her timid half.

Gangle squeaked and stayed quiet.

Jax rolled his eyes to hide his discomfort. Just the thought of his dead friend, being puppeteered for shows made him sick in the stomach. And now this twisted ribbon freak, wants to fuck with his head, even off stage.

“I’m not… in the mood for this…” He tried to sound less in pain, and attempted to walk away.

But just like that, the ribbons holding the clown up, carried him over the rabbit’s head, and blocked his way.

Jax passing through the right, but Kaufmo was dragged and used to block that way as well. He tried to take a step to the left, but it resulted in the same way.

“Not until you gimme a good hug!” After saying that, the clown’s arms were spread open slightly leaning towards the rabbit, who instinctively leaned back.

“Kaufy and I don’t hug.” Jax said, a little too aggressively, when he turned back to the twisted twin.

“Well, Kaufmo back then didn’t. This one does!” AIngle said, inching Kaufmo closer to Jax, who stepped back even more. “I can make him do whatever I want. Including hugging and kissing his pathetic pet bunny.”

As she says that, she dragged the body closer to Jax. The lifeless arms almost touching his shoulders.

Jax, moved back again, unknowingly backing himself against the body of ribbons, until he was trapped in between her and the clown.

AIngle started making kissing sounds, that made Jax cringe, “Mwah mwah! Come on buddy, lemme pet behind your ears! Don’t you miss me?”

‘Kaufmo’ started getting closer, Jax gritted his teeth, and turned his head away.

Pomni continued to watch, her face scrunching in disgust, as she watched the incredibly fucked up scene. A part of her felt bad for the rabbit. Though he wasn’t, nor will ever be, Pomni’s favorite person in the circus, this was too far of a joke. Whether a jackass like Jax deserved it or not.

Nobody deserved to be taunted, with the corpse of someone they were close to.

She wouldn’t want to see this happening to Kinger with his wife, or Gangle with Ragatha, or herself with anyone she might consider close to to her.

You know what? Fuck it.

She died once, it’s bound to happen again.

May as well try and get used to it.

It might even save her of what’s left of her sanity, if she tries to adapt to the feeling.

Feeling uncharacteristically bold, she made her way to them.

Pomni admits, part of her wished she was less brazen with her words, but that spur of the moment part of her, spoke without thinking. “AIngle. Fuck off.”

Understandably caught off guard, the AI sister stopped with her taunting and turned her head to the ballerina.

Gangle and Jax, who were also equally surprised, looked at Pomni with wide eyes.

Confusing changed to irk, as she raised her eyebrow at the wooden doll. “Excuse me? I must’ve misheard you back there.”

“Then let me repeat myself. Fuck off.” Pomni said, more aggressively. No turning back now. It’d be more embarrassing to take it back.

“Puppeteering these bodies are for the show. Not for your entertainment. Put the clown back with the other bodies, and stop messing with Jax.” Pomni said, in a commanding tone.

“And why do you suddenly care about the bunny? Doesn’t everyone hate him? I say, I’m doing something nice for everyone else he messed with.” AIngle said, her lips curling up in a smirk. Though, anyone with eyes could tell, she was still pissed.

“He’s already fucked in the head as it is. There’s no need for you to make him an even bigger psycho, and an even bigger problem.” Pomni replied.

She wasn’t sure if that was her reason. Actually, she not even sure, what her reason for defending Jax could be. Sure she felt bad, but she’s not usually risking her life to defend someone. Even if she won’t be dead forever. Still, that didn’t stop her.

AIngle let go Kaufmo’s body and let it drop to the ground. “And what makes you think, you can tell me what to do?” She jabbed her ribbon hand, at the center of Pomni’s face, where her nose should be.

“You’re not abstracted yet. But, I can still take over your body, and turn you into a real ventriloquist dummy. The best part? You’d be conscious to see how I can easily control you!” She threatens the brunette doll, grinning evilly at her.

“You can….” Pomni said, her voice cracking, her nervousness showing. But quickly as it slipped, she put her brave face back on. “But, you won’t!”

“Remember? I’m Caine’s favorite. If you try to do anything to me before I even abstract, he’d be really pissed at you for ruining his prized possession.”

Pomni internally cringed at herself for that one. She doesn’t usually like playing that card. She never really cared for the favoritism. So long as she’s not on Caine’s bad side, that’s enough for her.

But at this moment, she was doing and saying the exact opposite of what she would usually do.

“Oooh~! Prima Failerina’s suddenly using her princess privileges~?” AIngle said in a mocking tone. Still, Pomni didn’t miss that eye twitch.

She brought her face closer to the doll, staring her down. “Little bitch, suddenly wants to use the ringmaster as a shield, huh.”

She moved her face away, but her eyes remained on her. And continued, “You’re only favored for your pretty face. You’re lucky to be brought into this world, in this body. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be interesting in any way to him. You mean as much to Caine, as a brand new doll means to a child. Once you get tattered and depreciated, he won’t care if you’re safe or not.”

Jax had already moved away from the mask, but was too intrigued by the scene before him to leave.

AIngle let out a dry laugh, “But, you’re right…” She said bitterly. “As Caine’s precious doll, I can’t hurt you on purpose.”

She shrugged. “But, I can ignore you. And do whatever I want with the others. Since, I won’t be in trouble for messing with the already depreciated toys.”

She turned away from Pomni, and picked Kaufmo back up. “Ohhh bunny boy~!” She called out, as her ribbons wrapped around Jax and pulled him back in for another game of dead dolls.

“Would you get off me, freak!” Jax tried to wriggle out of the ribbons.

“Why should I? I’m giving you more time with your friend.” AIngle started letting put sadistic giggles, and she continued her own self-entertainment.

“Let go of him, and put Kaufmo back.” Pomni butted in once again.

“And what are you gonna do? Little miss wooden joints?” AIngle taunted again, looking down at Pomni. “I may not be able to do whatever I want with you, without getting an earful from Caine. But, what can YOU do other than yap at me like a stubborn chihuahua?”

Pomni silently glared at her for a couple of seconds, her eyes narrowed and face infuriated. Her fist clenched and shaking.

She then moved her eyes to an object on the ground.

It was Jax’s bat. A large piece of wood with a disturbing amount of nails hammered into it. He must’ve dropped it in the middle of the trying to avoid Kaufmo’s body.

Pomni didn’t know why, but she walked towards it, and picked it up. She then made her way back to the grinning twin.

“Haha! You wouldn’t.” AIngle said with a confident voice. “Not after the last time.”

Acting without thinking, Pomni replied, “If it’ll get you to finally fuck off… then I’ll take my chances.” And she swung the bat towards the grinning piece of porcelain.

The force of the bat cracked the twin into several pieces, the nails also cutting into the ribbons restraining Jax, setting him free.

Pomni immediately pulled Jax away from Gangle and shoved him away as hard she could.

Just as she had already anticipated, Gangle started having another meltdown. Her face contorted into a horrific frown, and her ribbons lunged at Pomni, wrapping around her neck and waist.

Pomni was brutally thrashed around a few times, before the corrupted Gangle dragged her off somewhere else to slowly murder.

Jax was just there… on the ground. Staring off to where the ballerina was dragged off to.

He looked at Kaufmo, whose body was abandoned on the floor, and little bits of porcelain next to him.

The rabbit stood up and walked towards lifeless clown, picking him up and positioning him in a piggyback ride.

As he carried his friend, the image of the wooden doll’s face flashed back in his mind.

Eh….

He wasn’t good at saying ‘thank you’, nor did he like saying it. So, he won’t be thanking Pomni.

But, he’ll be sure to say something to her when she comes back.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

I’ll probably make a part two.

Tbh, it was pretty hard trying to make them in character in this AU, while still shipping them. I’m a Funnybunny shipper, but when it comes to the Freakshow AU, I lean more towards Showtime. But, I wanted to take up the challenge of trying to make them ‘shippable’ even in this AU.

So what do you guys think….?

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc freakshow #freakshow au #tadc pomni #tadc jax #tadc gangle #freakshow pomni #freakshow jax #freakshow gangle #funnybunny #freakshow funnybunny #pomni x jax

[ssa-montgomery]

Baby, I'm Preying On You Tonight, Hunt You Down Eat You Alive (Just Like Animals)

Word Count: 5590

Summary: Daryl has a darker primal side he's been hiding and Y/N is determined to draw it out, no matter what it takes.

Characters: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, lots of suspense, chasing, Daryl hunts the reader, predator/prey dynamic, primal kink, smut, angry Daryl, overstimulation, dom/sub, degradation kink, use of degrading terms (bitch, whore), punishments, dirty talk, hickeys, marking, biting, possessive kink, ownership kink, choking kink, rough sex, breeding kink, some cum play, begging, use of pet names (doll, girl), Daryl compares the reader to a little bunny, outdoor sex, forest sex

A/N: So uh, this might be some of the most unhinged smut I've written so far. I had this idea for a while and I was debating on whether or not I should write it and once I got the request @azanoni for a Daryl smut using these prompts I just knew I HAD to write it. I think this might be some of my favourite Daryl content I've written. I've had so much fun planning and writing this one (even if it took longer than expected) so I hope you all enjoy it as much as I have!

Prompt(s): “Tell me what you're going to do to me.”

Feedback is what motivates me to work so please let me know what you think! Reblogs are also greatly appreciated.

Taglist is open!

Masterlist

Growing up you were taught about the dangers of the woods that grew around your childhood home, poisonous plants and animals that had you scared of the smallest noises among the trees but since the fall of the world, that danger had increased tenfold. Anybody with the good sense to fear for their life was afraid of what they might find this deep into the trees, not just the threat of walkers but the threat of people that would stop at nothing to survive. It was a place that most actively avoided when they could but you, on the other hand, had always found a strange peace in nature, even the sides to it that should have scared you. Mother nature was a force to be reckoned with and you admired that.

You knew better really, knew the danger that came with being this far out by yourself and any other time you wouldn't have wandered off without one of the others by your side but the group was running low on supplies. The food situation was becoming scarce and while Rick and Maggie managed to round up some canned goods on their last scavenge it still wouldn't be enough to last long. Your people needed proper, fresh food and you knew you could hunt better alone without any distractions.

 You were a skilled hunter, that much anyone could see. It came naturally to you the second you picked up a bow and Daryl spent days taking you hunting with him, training you well. The silence of being alone in the forest helped you focus your senses even more than usual, catching even the slightest movements of the animals around you. It was a strange feeling, listening to just how quiet the forest was now. The quiet seemed to surround you, weighing heavy in the trees around you as the space that had once been filled with the sounds of wildlife was now replaced by silence and the distant groans of the dead. It seemed the wildlife had taken just as much of a hit as the rest of the world. Things were changing and you knew it would never be the same again.

You were careful to avoid the overgrown roots that littered the forest floor, stepping over them as you pressed forward, following the trail of a stag you'd spotted a few miles back. You'd watched in awe of the creature for a moment but before you could get close enough to make a clear shot, it took off into the trees. Daryl had given you a crash course in tracking and the knowledge proved useful as you picked up the tracks in the mud, following them deeper into the forest. If you could bag a kill like this, you could feed the group for days.

You weren't sure just how long you'd been out here anymore. The sun had barely risen when you, nothing more than a faint orange glow in the distance but now the light was filtering through the leaves above your head, bathing you in the warm feeling. You were soft with your steps treading lightly across the forest floor as you used the toe of your boot to brush the twigs in front of you out of the way, trying to avoid making any noise, not wanting them to snap underfoot.

Something in the corner of your eye caught your attention, another indent in the mud but it was smaller this time. A separate track from the one you'd been following. Perhaps it was a younger deer, a doe that had joined your stag somewhere along the way. You tried to get a closer look at the print, stooping down behind the wide trunk of the tree as you judged just how fresh it was.

When you were on these hunts, finding yourself in the situation of stalking an animal in this way there was a certain feeling you'd grown used to. It was a dynamic balance, the feeling of power between man and nature, the hunter and the hunted. Predator and prey. The baseline animal instincts that exist inside everyone. 

There was a sense of power you held as the hunter, a confidence that drove you forward but you could quickly feel that draining from your body, instead being replaced by a growing sense of fear. You weren't as alone out here as you thought. You were no longer the predator of this situation. You were the prey. There was somebody, something watching you and you could feel the goosebumps pricking under your skin, your hairs standing on end as a deep feeling you couldn't place settled in your bones.

You couldn't have been sure at the time but you thought you'd heard it just a few minutes before, chalking the slight rustling up to walkers but this wasn't something undead. No, these were too sure, too purposeful, these were footsteps. Real living, human footsteps. The sound was heavy against the soil, a man's footsteps, that much was easy to tell. You could tell whoever this was was trying to cover the noise. They were hiding, stalking you from somewhere among the trees. You glanced around, scanning the tree line as you pretended to search for your deer, not wanting to give away that you were aware they were there.

Something changed in the air around you. A tension thick enough to cut settled around you while your heart started to race, beating against your ribs. You'd been spotted and you knew they could sense the fear that followed. Your movements were deliberate now, trying not to make any sudden movements as you slowly raised from your hunched-over position, trying to steady your rapid breathing. As you moved to step forward there was a louder noise behind you, a twig snapping closer to you than you were comfortable with. They weren't disguising their footsteps anymore and you knew what that meant for you.

That feeling in your bones, there was only one way you could describe it. It was the same primal feeling you saw in the eyes of trapped animals and you knew there were only two baseline instincts for a cornered animal. Fight or flight. You chose the latter. Within a second you were in motion, breaking out into a sprint faster than you could think. You had no idea where exactly you were running to, you didn't have time to plan that far ahead and you'd taken off in the wrong direction to make it back to the group at camp. All you knew was that you needed to get out of there.

Everything in your body was screaming at you to stop as you forced yourself to keep going, you could feel yourself growing weaker with every step, your legs already aching from being on your feet all day. You couldn't stop running now, you knew that much. You were barely aware of anything outside of yourself anymore, your senses overwhelmed by the sound of your heart hammering in your ears drowning out the sound of how close your hunter was getting. The wind whipped almost painfully against the skin of your face but the only feeling you could focus on was that of being chased. Hunted down through the trees.

You raised an arm to cover your face as you ran, shielding yourself from the low-hanging branches that would otherwise catch your face as you kept going. You proved too focused on the branches in front of you as you stopped paying attention to anything else around you, instead managing to catch your foot on the root of a tree that was emerging from the ground. By some miracle, you didn't fall. You managed to reach out and steady yourself on the tree next to you as you kept running trying to push yourself forward but the stumble was enough to slow you down. It was enough for him to catch up.

A scream of protest ripped from your throat when you were suddenly tugged backwards, two strong, rough hands grabbing at your upper arms. You tried to surge forward, hoping to break free of his grasp but instead, he manoeuvred you around however he wanted, dragging you by your arms as he pushed your chest against the trunk of the closest tree. You could feel the panic flooding your veins as you struggled against his grip but there was no use. He overpowered you in every way, the solid wall of his chest pressing against your back as he forced you further against the tree, leaning in until you felt his hot breath fan against your neck. 

"Stop strugglin', fuckin' brat. His words were dripping with venom, nothing more than a low growl in your ear as his hands left your arms instead dropping to your waist in an attempt to stop you from trying to wriggle out of his grasp. Your muscles tensed at the feeling of his fingers biting into the soft skin of your waist, your mind racing with thoughts you knew you shouldn't be having in this situation. At first, you weren't sure if the feeling bubbling up in your chest was relief or burning rage as finally placed the voice. You'd recognise that rich southern drawl anywhere.

"Daryl? Oh, you fuckin' bastard." You let out a heavy sigh as your body relaxed in his grasp realising you weren't in immediate danger. You tried to aim another dig at his ribs for the scare he'd given you but he easily blocked you, catching your arm and pinning it above your head. The fear in your body melted away the second you heard his voice but there was something else rising up in its place. A different kind of fear, an anticipation for just how he'd choose to handle this situation. It was a feeling that had you wriggling your hips against him with no intention of breaking loose. "I thought you were some creep out here waitin' to kill me or somethin'."

"I damn well coulda been. Stupid fuckin' girl." Daryl growled out, his voice low as his lips practically ghosted the shell of your ear, his grip on your waist tightening. His grip wasn't trying to hold you in place anymore, the treat of you running having long since passed. In reality, if he let go of you now you'd stay perfectly still just to keep him happy, no his grip now was solely possessive. Holding you close to him and hiding you away from anything out there that might want to hurt you. "I mean what were ya thinkin'? Runnin' off like that without tellin' me? Were ya even fuckin' thinkin'? Y'know how dangerous it is out 'ere, ya tryin' to get yerself killed?"

"I left you a message before I left." You said, your voice dropping in volume with disappointment as you feigned innocence when in reality you knew what you were doing every step of the way since you first left that morning. You wouldn't have come out this far if you didn't know Daryl would follow you, if you hadn't been counting on it. All of this was a game, admittedly a risky one at that and one that you weren't sure Daryl would play along with at first. The fact that he was here, pressing you against the tree with a growing hard-on in his pants proved he was more than willing to play along.

"Right. Yer message. Call that a message do ya? Gettin' Rick to tell me y'went out hours after ya were already gone? What was it ya said? He's a good tracker, tell him to find me if he wants me. Think yer clever do ya?" He bit back the anger rising in his voice as he forced you further against the tree, pinning you there with his hips. One hand found its way into your hair, wrapping the strands around his hand into a makeshift ponytail before pulling your head back, forcing you to meet his eyes.

"I'm - I'm sorry Daryl I didn't mean to -" You stumbled over your words trying to find the right excuse to calm him but you knew it was useless as you met the wild look in Daryl's eyes. It wasn't unusual to see him angry but this look was unlike anything you'd ever seen from him. Anger and genuine concern for your safety mixed with an almost feral nature that seemed to darken his eyes as his pupils dilated. It was mesmerising. 

"Nah. Ya knew what you was doin'.  Is this what y'wanted? Wanted me to hunt ya down through the woods? Chase ya down and catch ya like some kind of prey? Have my way with ya? Ya wanted to be afraid?" His voice was taunting in a way that should have almost scared you but he was right, this was exactly what you'd wanted. Ever since you'd met you knew there was a side he hid, you could see it in his eyes when he fought with the others in the group, could feel him holding back every time he touched you. 

You wanted him to let go, to release that animalistic side that you watched him try so hard to fight, his true hidden nature. He was right, you did want to be afraid. In fact, the feeling turned you on beyond belief. You wanted him to take control of you, to earn your submission entirely until you had no choice but to melt into a mess in his hands. "I should show ya what happens to brats that piss me off."

"Tell me what you're going to do to me."  Your words were breathy, barely above a whisper, coming out as more of a pleading beg than the original demand you'd intended. He was already getting under your skin, making you cave under his intense gaze as your eyes flickered to the forest floor when you could no longer take his stare. His hands were roaming your body now, groping at every part of you that he could reach. Squeezing at your hips, running up your back before gliding over your ribs.

"I'm gonna give ya what ya wanted. I could practically smell how badly ya wanted me for miles. Y'wanted me to let loose and fuck ya like some kind of feral animal so that's exactly what I'll give ya." He dropped his head to your shoulder, breathing in deeply as he took in your scent. The smell of pine mixed with the faint smell of the shampoo you'd managed to find a few days ago, but it was the natural scent of your skin that drove him crazy. 

Daryl's hands snaked around your waist to undo the button of your jeans not even bothering with the fly as he left you with no time to process his words, shoving his hand past the waistband of your panties. You couldn't help the whimper that escaped you at the feeling of his fingers moving roughly over your clit, the sudden feeling almost too much for you. He wasted no time, not in the mood for gentle foreplay as he moved his fingers downwards resting them over your entrance just enough to have you wriggling in his grip for more but not enough to press inside you. He let out a low groan that you could feel vibrate in his chest when he felt how wet you were already, gathering as much of it on his fingers as he could while it smeared over the palm of his hand.

"Look at ya. Already drippin' down yer thighs for me. Fuckin' soaked. Ya like it huh? Like makin' me angry so I'll use ya however I want? Get off of me throwin' ya 'round like it's nuthin' and pinin' ya down?" You were starting to lose it already, still reeling from the feeling of his fingers against your clit you couldn't find the words to answer him. He ground his hips into your ass as he waited for you to admit it. Clearly not happy with your lack of response he brought his free hand up and wrapped it around your throat, using it as leverage to quickly spin you around in his grasp before slamming you back against the tree. "Answer me, girl."

"Y- yes Daryl. I love it. Please I want you to use me. I need it. I can take it. I promise." Your voice sounded desperate even to your own ears as you pleaded with him to give you what you wanted. Seemingly pleased with your answer he tightened his grip on the sides of your throat, forcing a gasp from your lips at the pressure. He took the opportunity the second your lips parted in and shoved his fingers that were still covered in your slick into your mouth. You knew what he wanted immediately as you felt him press down on your tongue, closing your lips around his fingers as you sucked them clean.

"That's it." He hummed tilting your face up with his free hand, forcing you to meet his stare as you struggled not to gag while he slid his fingers further back into your mouth. He thought about forcing you to your knees there and then, using your mouth until he was finished as punishment but who was he to deny you when you begged so pretty? Nobody could break you down as quickly as Daryl, ever since your first time together he had a natural talent for finding that switch in your brain - or he'd argue more accurately in your pussy - that turned you into a drooling submissive mess for him. Not that you were complaining about it one little bit. No matter how much he lost control you knew you were safe in his hands, but right now, you wanted that feeling of danger. "Y'gonna beg me for it like some needy stupid bitch in heat? Need to fucked and bred 'til ya can't think no more?"

"God Daryl, please. I can't - I can't take anymore. I need you inside me." You moaned as you grasped at the shoulders of his worn-down leather vest, trying to feel him closer in any way you could. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, starting to leave hot, messy, kisses there before he sunk his teeth into your skin. You cried out at the sharp feeling, clawing at his back through the fabric of his clothes as his tongue lapped over the area, roughly sucking just to be sure it would leave a noticeable mark. A claim for anyone else who might be stupid enough to look at you to see.

"Y'had so much fight in ya when I was chasin' ya. I had fun huntin' ya like some lil' bunny. Look at y'now. Pathetic." He spat, dropping his hand to toy with the button of your jeans before finally undoing the fly to let it hang open.  You could see the smirk ghosting his lips as his eyes darkened before he started to speak again. You could practically see the plan forming in his head. "Since y'want me to fuck ya so badly maybe I should just leave ya out 'ere for bein' such a fuckin' brat before. Let ya find some other way to entertain yerself. Only good girls deserve to be bred."

"No, no, no - wait! You cried out clinging onto his shirt as he pulled back slightly, threatening to step away from you completely. If he walked away from you now without giving you what you wanted you might have actually collapsed to the ground and cried from the frustration. He was getting on this, the teasing, the making you beg, the wide-eyed desperate look you gave him, that much was obvious from the growing bulge in his pants. "I'm sorry - I'm sorry I just wanted to have some fun. I promise I'll be good now just stay please."

"Y'wanted fun huh?" He said grasping your jaw as he stepped closer, his face so close to yours now that his lips brushed yours as he spoke. He wouldn't kiss you, not now, it almost felt too intimate for his anger at this moment. No, he just wanted to tease you instead as you chased his lips. It was intoxicating, the heat of his breath against your skin and the faintest scent of cigarettes that always seemed to follow him. "Yer idea of fun involves annoyin' the shit outta me huh?"

You could feel your cheeks heating, painting your skin red under his intense stare and harsh words. Admittedly you did find simple joy in winding Daryl up at any chance you got. You knew you hadn't really upset him with the stunt you'd pulled today. If you had he would have dragged you back to camp the second he'd caught up to you and screamed at you until every walker in the state heard him. No, this anger, the biting words that made you crumble, this was his game. This was his teasing.

"Yer gonna take what I give ya and I don't wanna hear ya bitchin' 'bout it. Ya asked for this. Begged me actually." He warned, his voice low and dark as he dug his fingers into the side of your panties. In one swift moment, he had both your jeans and panties pulled down just past your knees, forcefully kicking your feet apart to give him the access he needed. "Do y'understand me?"

"Y-yes." You whimpered out, trying your best to angle your hips towards him needing anything you could get but he wasn't giving you anything until he decided you deserved it. He couldn't hold himself back much longer, something inside him snapping at the sight of you in front of him. With his hands now gone from your body you were using the tree behind you to support your already weak knees, your eyes screwed shut with your head resting against the bark of the tree while you waited for him to make his move, your legs spread apart for him with your clothes still hanging below your knees. The sight was vulgar and it made his cock twitch in his pants. 

"Look at that pretty lil' pussy, beggin' me to fuck ya 'til ya can't take it anymore." His hands were on his belt in a second, fumbling over himself as he finally gave into just how badly he needed this too. There was a desperate need to be inside of you clawing at his chest in a way he'd never felt before. This wasn't exactly the setting for getting entirely undressed, the risk of danger or having to run out here was far too high. Instead, he shoved his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock, his belt still hanging loosely around his waist. "Gonna make ya scream for it s'good they'll hear ya back at camp. Let 'em all know what a fuckin' cock drunk whore y'are for me."

"Daryl fuckin' hell I -" Your words trailed off into a high-pitched whine as he gave in to his overwhelming need to fuck you with no warning and no time to process, shoving his cock inside you and bottoming out with one swift, rough thrust. You brought your hands up and dug your nails into his shoulders feeling your muscles spasming around him, the sudden feeling of being so full boarding on almost painful as you adjusted to his size. "Fuck -" 

He didn't stop to let your body adjust like he usually would, there was nothing gentle about this. Instead, he pulled out until he was just barely inside you and then thrust back into you even rougher than before. He was setting a brutal pace that from the burn you could already feel you were sure would hurt in the morning, leaving you with a limp and bruises where his fingers grasped at your waist but you couldn't bring yourself to care. This is what you'd wanted. You wanted it rough, you wanted it to hurt and to wear the reminder of what he had done to you for days after.

 The pace he was setting was cruel, his hips snapping against yours in a way that already had you gasping for breath as if he was actually fucking the air from your lungs. His hands grasped at the hem of your shirt, not bothering to pull it over your head but instead tugging it up your chest enough to expose your breasts to his wandering hands and greedy eyes. He groped at your breasts rolling his palms over your nipples as he thrust into you. The feeling had you arching your back further into his touch, pulling your shirt up to catch it between your teeth to give him full access.

"Yer tits look fuckin' perfect for me. Pretty lil' view while I fuck ya, practically beggin' for my mouth 'round them. Want me suckin' on your tits while I breed ya huh?" You could almost hear his accent thickening with each word, that rasp taking over as he control of his words giving in and saying whatever came to his mind. His eyes were glued to your chest watching the way your breasts bounced with every thrust he made that forced you upwards. He didn't wait for a response from you, needing the feeling of your skin under his mouth which earned him a moan as he dropped his mouth to catch a nipple between his teeth.

The slight pain of his teeth dragging across your sensitive skin was drowned out by the pure pleasure coursing through your veins with every thrust of his hips and the feeling of his hand kneading at your other breast. His free hand found its way to the back of your thigh, groaning at the feeling of your soft skin between his fingers as he grasped at you, pulling your leg around his waist. He pulled it as high as he could with the restricting fabric of your clothes still hanging around your legs and the sudden change in angle had him hitting your g-spot on every thrust.

There was something completely animalistic about the noise he made as he pushed even deeper inside of you, something caught between a growl and a deep moan. You couldn't help your body's response when he got like this, the cry that crept up your throat as he gave into every, rough and wild thought he'd ever had about you. You tried to lift your hips, wanting to meet him thrust for thrust as the way his pubic bone ground against your clit drove you insane but it was all too much. His movements were too fast for you to match. You gave in, switching off your brain as you gave every ounce of power over to his demanding hands, falling limp against him while his nails bit into your skin where he grasped and groped at you.

 He buried his face into the crook of your neck once more, the smell of sex on your skin taking over his mind as his lips ghosted over the red mark on your neck that was already turning to shades of yellow and purple. You could feel every heavy pant and growl that he couldn't control against your heated skin, the sounds rumbling through your chest where he was pressed against you. He turned his attention back to your neck covering you in sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. All teeth and tongue. It was like he couldn't focus enough to kiss you properly anymore, his mind so clouded by lust he was only able to give into that primal urge to feel. His lips moved against your skin, sucking roughly until he was sure you'd be covered in marks across your neck and shoulder. His marks. He pulled away watching with heavy eyes as the bruises started to form over your skin, your neck and his lips still coated with spit.

"Look at ya. All marked up for me. Y'like wearin' my fuckin' bite mark like a brand? Wanna show everyone who owns ya? Show 'em who fucked this pussy s'good ya let me claim ya? Too fucked out to even argue now aren't ya? Takin' my dick like a good lil' bitch." His words were a possessive growl now, barely even still audible. You weren't even sure if he was still talking to you directly or if he was simply giving into the urge to voice that you were his and nobody else's.

Not that he had to remind you who you belonged to. There had never been a single doubt in your mind about that from the minute you met him. No one else could bring you to this kind of high, could dominate you in every way you needed like he could. That man controlled every single one of your waking thoughts and you'd never hesitate to give him anything and everything he ever wanted. You were completely and utterly, his. You wouldn't have it any other way.

Daryl adjusted your weight in his arms as you felt him getting closer, his grip faltering as he struggled to keep his mind focused on keeping you both standing. Part of him thought about just dropping you to the ground, fucking you against the dirt. You could feel the bark of the tree digging into the skin of your back as he lifted you and you were sure you would have small scratched after it but as long as he kept doing what he was you couldn't bring yourself to care. The only thought left in your mind was your impending orgasm. You could feel it building, every nerve in your body lighting up, sensitive to any touch as that tension in your stomach built higher and higher. You felt Daryl's cock twitch inside you in response to a particularly high-pitched moan and you knew he wasn't far behind you.

"Daryl -" You gasped out trying to find the words to warn him of just how close you were getting but he was losing himself in the feeling, his rhyme faltering as his thrusts started to come faster and faster, more uncontrolled. His face nuzzled at your neck as his thrusts only seemed to grow rougher, taking you for everything you had. "Daryl I'm - ah fuck - I'm so close -"

"C'mon then, take what y'want Doll. Know how badly ya want it. Wanna feel ya cummin' on dick, let me feel that pussy squeezin' me 'til I cum in ya. Y'want that? Want my cum drippin' from ya when I'm done with ya? Let me use ya 'til I'm all spent huh? Imma ruin ya for anyone else. This pussy's all mine." You couldn't hold yourself back anymore at his words, screaming out his name until your voice was hoarse as the tension finally snapped. You were sure you drew the attention of anyone and anything for miles as your screams of his name echoed through the woods but you couldn't bring yourself to care, not with the feeling that was flooding your body. You clung to him as if your life depended on it, your arms wrapped around his neck as you buried your face in his chest when you couldn't take it anymore. He fucked you through your orgasm never once letting up his thrusts.

You ripped a moan from his throat as you clenched around his cock, your body still spasming from the force of your orgasm as you struggled to tell where it ended. He was following you down and you could tell from the harsh rise and fall of his chest as he used his full body to pin you up. His thrusts were becoming sloppy, his pelvis grinding against your clit sending you into overstimulation that had you whimpering as you weakly pawed at his chest trying to escape the feeling. With one final sharp thrust, he pushed himself as deep inside you as he could, brushing your cervix as his fingers flexed against your hips, holding onto you with everything he had.

"Fuckin' perfect tight pussy. God y'feel s'good takin' everything I have. S'pretty all fun and drippin' for me. Takin' all my cum." He panted out this voice breaking as you felt him twitch, finally spilling inside of you. He held himself there for a minute basking in the feeling of your body still slowly coming down around him while he held his cum inside you. He stepped back when he felt himself start to soften and took in the sight between your legs. His cum dripped down your already-soaked thighs and he brought his hand down, pushing his fingers through the mix of both of you before sliding them inside of you again. The feeling of him pushing past your already sensitive folds making you whimper. "Gone and made a fuckin' mess now look at ya. Complete fuckin' wreck."

"Just - just felt so good." You whimpered your eyes falling closed as your head tipped back, hiding the three behind you with a soft thud. You couldn't find the energy in you to move, completely spent and exhausted as you fought just to keep your legs steady underneath you as your knees threatened to give out entirely. You felt Daryl move towards you, carefully pulling your underwear and pants back up your legs before sliding an arm around your waist.

"Think y'can walk or do y'want me to carry ya?"

Taglist: @azanoni @ineedmorefanfics2 @natnoble4 @gutssoverrfearr @ivuravix @spookyspiderseb

#aoife writes fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fic #the walking dead smut #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n

[mamuzzy]

THE PEOPLE WHO ARE ACTUALLY OPPOSING KAL SKIRATA part 2.

HIS FAMILY FROM THE PAST - Continuation

I've got a couple of response from @mysticaltora8276 and I decided that Ilippi's and Kal's relationship deserves another round to talk about because that's what the original post was about.

What you will find here now: - Dissecting Kal's and Ilippi's relationship even more but now with quotes from the books. - Me confirming the existing misogyny integrated into Karen Traviss' mando lore (I never doubted. I just wanted to find my own answers in this debate instead of choosing existing sides). - No. I still don't hate Kal. You can still love a character while not agreeing with their actions.

More under the cut.

One of my interesting observation about the antis and "critical thinkers" that while they think they are protecting the women of Repcomm with claw and blood, they are the ones who write them off as "cardboard characters with no soul and own will".

Starting from Ilippy. I thought I emphasised enough how badass was for her to divorce from Kal when she felt she can't adjust to this lifestyle, and wanted to protect her children from the warrior's life.

And it suddenly clicked.

Holy shit, it's 2024. Divorcing from your husband is not a big deal anymore!!!! CAN YOU ACTUALLY BELIEVE THIS??? O_____O

(this wasn't a sarcasm.)

Today, divorcing from your husband when you are abused, or neglected, you fear for your children, or bored or you realize after years of marriage that you just don't click is totally a normal thing today and doesn't come with social stigma anymore (in better places). You can even get an official distancing-order.

But people often forget that it wasn't always like this. And remember when these books were written. Hard Contact came out in 2004.

I can't talk about other countries, only the post-soviet ones, but in the 80's-90's, it was still considered shameful for women to initiate divorce from their husband, no matter whether she was treated bad, the whole neighbourhood knew she was treated bad, relatives very much aware that the wife was treated bad. They blamed women for not putting up the whims of the husband. Blamed by women and men as well.

Hungarian poetry is actually full of ballads, how the wives were forced to kill their husbands to save themselves from abusive relationships or forced marriage because divorce wasn't an option: it was, but then you were shamed by your whole community. Shamed by women and men as well.

One of the other thing, that really changed is the time when you get married. Today is also considered normal to marry and have a kid at age 30+, while couples of from my parents generation usually married at age 18-19. And Kal and Ilippi also married rather young, which is also the part of Karen Traviss's mandalorian culture, but can be a mirror about old generational couples of real life.

I looked up the definition of misogyny (my own experience is one thing but I'm not going to traumadump here):

Misogyny (/mɪˈsɒdʒɪni/) is hatred of, contempt for, or prejudice against women or girls. It is a form of sexism that can keep women at a lower social status than men, thus maintaining the social roles of patriarchy. An example of misogyny is violence against women, which includes domestic violence and, in its most extreme forms, misogynist terrorism and femicide. Misogyny also often operates through sexual harassment, coercion, and psychological techniques aimed at controlling women, and by legally or socially excluding women from full citizenship. In some cases, misogyny rewards women for accepting an inferior status. (From wikipedia)

In this definition, IN OUR HUMAN EARTHLING STANDARDS keeping Ilippi in lower social status as a wife in a secluded place where she was expected to raise their children and wait for her husband without any other option (they lived in the middle of nowhere, no neighbours, no cities around for her to spend time or work or getting friends), yes, it is misogyny.

Only Ilippi had options: embracing the mandalorian culture and became a warriorwife, asking Kal to teach her, maybe joining him later.

ASSUMPTION HERE: I don't think Kal really knew how to handle a non-mando girl. I don't think they really talked about their future as a mando couple. Ilippi worked as a waitress and probably at that time it was a good idea to be a wife of a mercenary. Two young people met, fell in love, and later they realized, their expectations hadn't met. I don't think Ilippi was really interested becoming a fighterwife just as Kal wasn't interested leaving the mercenary life and his own culture behind. But also: here is the confimation of mando couples marrying young from Order 66. But also that Ilippi first found Kal and his profession attractive in her eyes.

Their serious arguments started when the possibility came up that Kal wanted to bring the children along with him.

This is a snippet from True Colors when they talk about the responsibilties of a mandowife.

Ordo is making a (rather sexist) joke, so how reilable this information can be is very much debatable. If he says it's nothing hard for a jedi, than it is probably very hard and tiresome for a civilian like Ilippi.

SPECULATION: I can imagine that sometimes Mandowife gets up, now it's her turn to go out and make some money and the husband stays home with the children. -> But because the conversation above it can be interpreted many ways, it's hard to say what exactly was their duty.

Before you kill me for using mandowife here mandoWIFE there instead of riduur...

One of my problem with Karen Traviss' Mandalorian lore, that the whole culture and social expectations were supposed to be completely gender neutral. Can you handle yourself as a warrior? You are a mando. That's it. But here, there are inbuilt gender expectations and roles. -> By the definition of the misogyny above, this is one, because mandalorian women are still bound by the stereotypes of the patriarchal role of a women in a heteronormative family.

Ok, back to Ilippi.

Now this is the first scene Ilippi first mentioned in Triple Zero. I fail to see how she was treated bad by the narrative or Kal or Jango.

Ilippi decided this life is not for her. Ilippi didn't wanted the mandalorian life for her and for their children. She didn't want to assimiliate. She realized these people are wackos and she has to get out as soon as possible before Kal really take their children to war. And she did.

This is how their divorce went (Order 66)

Ilippi was never deprived from choices. She literally took the kids when Kal was away and Kal returned to an empty home. If she was really held in lower social status, and her rights and feelings weren't respected at all, Kal could have go and forced her to come back without her consent. Or simply do honor-killing like many cultures and religions do in real life where misogyny isn't just making sexist jokes (like the Ordo conversation), but the whole family will actually hunt you down for leaving your husband.

Kal respected this choice. Does he deserve a praise for it? Probably not. This is how it should be: respecting others.

But also this confirms that Kal never stopped supporting financially his family.

And lastly I wanted to add this one because I really loved this conversation:

Kamino was the point were Kal actually cut himself from his family entirely. Not before. Kal had a chance to reconnect with his biological children when he got the news from Jango (though it's debatable, my speculation is that Kal would have been killed if he had left Kamino before the contract's end). He choose the Nulls and the commandos under his care.

But this is also interesting that in the Mando culture when your wife is divorcing from you, you, the husband are to blame: a switched-mirror to the formerly mentioned real life example of how divorcing from your husband is shameful as a woman. If you fail as a parent, as a husband, you fail as a human being.

ABOUT THE CHILD SOLDIER DEBATE: if you need the author to spoonfeed you with the narrative that explicitly condems the existence of childsoldiers, the problem is not with the media, the problem is with you.

IN CONCLUSION: Ilippy is still a fucking badass. Kal loved his family. Kal respected Ilippy and her choice. Real life misogyny integrated into the mando culture spotted which is - obviously - affected Kal too.

HOOOOooooooOOOooOoooOoly shit, that was a ride. Because I partially touched to topic about his sons, I think my next post will be about Tor, Ijaat and Ruusaan.

If you actually read through all this blurb, in one hand KUDOS TO YOU, on the other hand, you can expect something like this from me when I actually start to my blogging about the books.

#kal skirata #ilippi jiro #republic commando #repcomm #star wars

[ribbonstrawberrysurprise]

TMM Weapon and Attack Descriptions

Small followup to the character bios post, featuring the information about each Mew Mew's weapon and attack from the 2002 Fanbook vs the TMM New Artbook (both the 2002 insert and the main section).

See the comparison chart here.

First, one BIG thing to notice right off:

The '02 Fanbook actually spells the attacks as リボン/ribon instead of リボーン/riboon. This is big because there's always been debate on whether they should be transcribed as "Ribbon" (usually spelled リボン, with a shorter o) or "Reborn" (usually spelled as リボーン, with a longer o).

Basically, does the stretched out o sound mean it's meant to be understood as "Reborn"? Or is it meant to be understood as each girl stretching out the first word dramatically ("Ribboooon,") before moving on to the personalized ending section. This is definitely the way they enunciate it in the anime and parallels the way other magical girl shows structure attacks (e.g., Mars... Flame Sniper, Precure... Blue Forte Wave, Hirogaru... Sky Punch). I've weighed in on this here.

So, does this settle it once and for all?

Well… not in my opinion. Like, I do still think "Ribbon" is the correct transliteration! But I don't think the Fanbook is reliable for a few reasons:

1) The editing on the Fanbook is a little spotty, so there are multiple spots of inconsistent formatting/spelling. For instance, in the charts, all items in lists are separated by interpuncts (・) except for Buling's special skills, which is separated with a comma (、). There's also a missing interpunct in the list of Retasu's favorite foods (the other girls' lists do put an interpunct on the end of a line, so it's not a purposeful choice), and Shirogane's name has a space between the kanji of his surname and given name, something done for no other names*

*(Okay.... so it's also done for Buling's, but this is a real thing sometimes done for Chinese names to indicate that the surname is only one kanji instead of the 2-3 you'd expect of a Japanese surname...... But this is also changed/corrected in the New version, though, so???)

In my non-professional opinion, some of the phrasing also feels a little weird, and there's not much care put into text spacing and especially where lines break, but I'm not confident enough in my Japanese skills to state this for certain or put specific examples...

2) There is no other place where the attacks are written as リボン/ribon across the MANY places they are spelled out (e.g., the original manga, a La Mode, ReTurn, the PS game guide, character profile stickers). See above for examples!

3) Even though the TMM '02 insert in the TMM New Fanbook reuses a lot of text from the '02 Fanbook, it does NOT maintain this spelling, which suggests it was another error that was corrected.

So it's net zero information imo 🤷‍♀️

More small things under the cut:

I translated 必殺技/hissatsu waza as "finishing move". It literally means something like "certain kill technique" and is commonly translated as stuff like "special move" or "special attack" as well. 

The '02 Fanbook describes the attacks in terms of what they do in universe, whereas the New Artbook describes what happens in the stock footage. 

The '02 Fanbook also makes a big deal out of Ichigo's attack being the strongest and claims it's the only one that can purify a Chimera Anima and release the Parapara. It's generally true that they have to play her stock footage she has to finish off the big Chimera Anima, but the other girls consistently finish off smaller Chimera Anima, plus instances like Zakuro instantly defeating the big crow in episode 10 and all of the girls (including Pudding, somehow???) managing to defeat a bunch of big Chimera Anima at once when Pie releases them en masse as a distraction in episode 49. The '02 insert keeps the note on Ichigo's attack being able to finish off Chimera Anima but drops the "not that strong" part from the descriptions of the non-Ichigo girls and even adds that Zakuro's attack is "strong enough to surprise/frighten Quiche". The New artbook has no mention of any one girl's attack being more powerful.

The descriptions of the attacks kind of back up my claim that none of the girls except Lettuce have an elemental attack and are instead all light-based and separated by range:

Ichigo: balls of light; final blow on Chimera Anima Mint: arrow of light; ranged attack Lettuce: stream of water; attacks multiple enemies at once Pudding: wave of light that turns into "pudding"; captures enemy Zakuro: whip of light; can be used close or far away, can bind enemies, can cut into pocket dimensions somehow

...Zakuro is clearly way too OP, since she can essentially copy the effects of Mint, Lettuce, AND Pudding's attacks plus having dimensional powers. I mean, the "cutting through dimensions" thing is way outside the range of the other Mews' powers??? And it shows up so little...

Speaking of Zakuro, the New version eliminates the space-cutting power but also describes her weapon as a cross with a ribbon attached to the end instead of as a whip! (It does say she uses it like a whip in the attack description...) She does move it like a rhythmic gymnastics ribbon a little even in her original attack footage, but it's kind of funny to insist the ZaCross Whip isn't a whip!

They sure are caught up on how Lettuce can use her attack even when tied up since she only has to move her fingers. A situation which only happens once.

I find it a little funny that they never really acknowledge how all of the weapons are based on musical instruments. The LettuceTanets are obviously called castanets, and the StrawBell Bell is noted to have a bell attached, but only the the New fanbook calls Mint's weapon "lyre-shaped" instead of "bow and arrow-shaped". Not once are the PuRing Rings compared to a tambourine (although New does mention the bell) or the ZaCross Whip to a flute.

Confirmed that in the anime Buling's attack is not literal pudding but rather something that looks like it. (The manga is still a toss up considering we see it being eaten...)

The difference in phrasing between the '02 Fanbook and the New insert is pretty funny. プリンのようなもの / purin no youna mono, "a thing/object/substance that's like pudding" vs プリン状の物体 / purin-jou no buttai, "a solid object in the form/appearance of pudding". Puddingy thing vs physical object in the form of pudding.

#Tokyo Mew Mew #Tokyo Mew Mew New #Meta #Translation

[kissingghouls]

The King

Part Three - The Consequences // ao3 // part one // part two Vampire Secondo x Female Reader

Summary: Complications arise following Mary's call. What are you and a vampire man to do?

tags: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, horror themes, VAMPIRE VIOLENCE, violence, smut, BLOOD, poisoning, minor character death, so much blood, so much smut, more tags on ao3.

15k words, my loves.

I want to thank @ramblingoak for everything. The hand holding, the cheerleading, the pre-approval of just about every word in this thing. I could not have done this without you. 💖 shouts out to all my discord ghesties and everyone who liked, commented and/or reblogged this work, The Count, and the Suck Club extended universe. There is so much incredible talent and love in this fandom 💖💕✨

Part Three: The Consequences

It took seven men to bring Mina down, five of which she took with her. Had the outcome been different you would have been in complete awe of the woman. Instead, you were left mourning her.

It was only after her death that you learned anything about Mina. She had trained in several disciplines, all of which drew Secondo’s attention years ago. She was a Doll first, but over time she became a trusted member of his security detail, someone he relied on to keep him and the others safe. You were angry with yourself for only learning this now.

You curled up on the bed, drawing your knees tight to your chest as Secondo paced the length of his room. He hadn’t spoken much since hanging up with Mary. The silence pressed hard on the room, growing heavier with each of his steps until you couldn’t stand it any longer. You crawled from the bed and blocked his path, forcing him to stop long enough to get your arms around his middle. As you pressed your face into his chest the dam broke, and tears spilled from your eyes.

He stiffened under your touch. “Tesorino, I—”

You shook your head and maneuvered his strong arms around your body, urging him to hold you. “Please, just…just for a second. Please.”

There was a part of you that knew he didn’t understand what you were doing or what you might need, that he didn’t know what he might need. This was the best that you had to offer without words that would surely come out wrong and fuck everything up. His hold began to tighten as it sunk in and neither of you needed to say anything about it at all.

And you fell so much more madly in love with him.

When the tears stopped, he reluctantly let you go in favor of swiping his thumbs under your eyes to dry your cheeks. He cradled your face, dipping down just enough to softly press his lips to yours.

“I need to go to the club,” he told you quietly. There was no question in it, just a flat statement that burst the little bubble the two of you had inhabited for the past few hours.

“I’m coming with you,” you countered. It didn’t matter whether he wanted you to or not. If these people had no problem killing Mina, you knew they were far more dangerous than he would ever say. You were never going to let him out of your sight again.

He studied you for a moment, debating whether he wanted to argue. He relented and took your hand, leading you into his ridiculously sized closet. His suits lined the walls, neatly tucked into a set order, followed by his shirts and his shoes. Rows of drawers housed his collection of watches and cuff links, and he watched you open and close each one with a fond smile, delighted by your growing fascination with his things.

None of the things mattered anymore now that you were his. He couldn’t stop himself from shuffling over and draping his body over yours.

Idolatry looked abandoned, the husk of the building unlit and cast in shadow. The front parking lot was completely empty, all those neat rows of spaces normally filled with luxury cars left bare. Secondo pulled around the back, parking his own stupidly expensive car next to that ridiculous SUV Mary had cursed the day before.

Inside it was quiet, all the normal hum and buzz of thumping music shut off in favor of Mary barking directions. The sharp smell of bleach stung your nostrils and you pinned yourself to Secondo’s side, gripping his arm to try to avoid looking too closely at the room. Aside from a few overturned tables and the handful of body bags against the wall, the club was largely still in order, just heavily soaked in a chemical smell.

Lucy stood in the middle of the room without a stitch of makeup, her face puffy and red even under the dim lights. It was odd, almost uncomfortable to see her wearing casual clothes—a pair of grey sweatpants that were at least a size too big, probably thrown on hastily once she heard the news. Her head turned slowly toward you and Secondo, her expression changing to something harsh.

New, angry tears streamed down her face as she gritted her teeth and stomped toward her boss. She began to hurl insults at him with every step, balling her hands into fists while she screamed. She struck him hard in the chest once she was close enough, then again and again until she slammed both of her fists into him with all her might. She was screaming incoherently with each heavy blow, but Secondo simply tucked you behind him and let her swing.

“This is all your fault!” she wailed. “You didn’t keep her safe. You fucking left to save yourself and it’s your fucking fault. Do you hear me? Mina is fucking dead because of you.”

“Lucy, I—” he tried.

“I don’t want to hear it! You tell me. You tell me right now what you’re going to do about this.”

“I—I—”

“I know what you are,” she seethed her chest heaving as she stared him down. “You hear me? I know what you are and you better fucking fix this before more innocent people get killed.”

“Lucy!” Mary hissed, bounding across the room to pull her away from their boss.

“Lucy,” he tried again. “I’m—”

She shook off Mary’s hold and swung wide, punching the vampire in the mouth. Her fist connected hard enough that Secondo brought his hand to his face in shock.

“Lucy!” Mary yelled, grabbing at her again.

He drew his hand away, his lip bloodied. He didn’t react, just stared down at the blood on his fingers. The room fell painfully silent as Lucy launched herself away from Mary and spat directly in Secondo’s face.

“You fucking fix it,” she hissed, finally letting Mary grab her and pull her from the room. The rest of the security team followed suit, no one wanting to stick around to see what his reaction might be.

No one but you.

He dropped onto the edge of the stage with a heavy sigh but kept silent. You could feel the anger radiating off him, the waves almost visible like heat on asphalt. You pulled the cuff of your sleeve over the edge of your hand and carefully swiped Lucy’s spit from his face while urging him to look at you.

“Talk to me,” you offered.

He shook his head. “You should go.”

You brought your other hand to his face, forcing him to look at you. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“She’s right. What I am…they killed Mina because of me.”

“I like what you are.”

He scoffed at you. “No, you don’t. You have no idea what I really am.”

“Show me.”

He pulled away from you, shaking his head. “No.”

You grabbed his collar and pulled yourself up on the stage, your legs resting on either side of his. You made a show of lowering yourself onto his thighs, his every muscle flexing as you leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Show me.”

“I can’t,” he whispered back.

“Baby,” you purred, drawing your lips and teeth over his strong jaw. “You’re not going to scare me off. I knew you were a vampire before you fucked me on that desk, remember? I like what you are.”

“Baby?” he asked with an eyebrow raised.

“What? You want me to call you Daddy?”

He groaned and shifted under you, his hands coming to rest on your hips. “I told you; you have to stop calling me that.”

“Fucking make me then.”

A low rumble rose from his chest, a growl meant to warn you away from his true nature, but all it really did was make you soak through your panties. You rocked your core against him, heat rising through your belly as you felt him growing hard beneath you. You were his now, no matter what, and if you had to prove it by dragging this side out of him, then you wouldn’t hesitate.

You watched his eyes darken; pupils blown out completely as you pulled the bandages from your neck. You brought his hand to your throat, holding his fingers over the wound he’d made.

“I’m still yours, Secondo.”

His grip tightened, fingers closing slightly around your throat as he captured you in a bruising kiss. His teeth caught your lip, easily splitting it open to have your blood mix with his as his tongue invaded your mouth. You felt the bite reopen against his touch, blood slowly beading on the surface.

“I need—” he pleaded.

“Do it.”

He dropped his hand and pressed his teeth into the bite, drinking deep as a guttural sound left him. His arms locked around you, keeping you close as he rutted against you desperately. He pulled off your neck, panting hard as he drew the traces of you from his teeth. He smiled and shoved his hand down your panties, curling his fingers into your entrance without warning.

“Gonna make you mine all over again,” he growled into your ear as he withdrew his fingers. He slipped out from under you and ripped your shirt over your head before pushing you down on the stage.

A small whimper escaped your lips as you looked over your shoulder to catch him stroking himself while watching you, his trousers hanging halfway off the edge of the stage. He slipped one hand under you, easing your hips up so he could tease the head of his thick cock against your entrance, sliding himself through your folds while praising you with pretty words that didn’t match his tone.

“Baby, please,” you begged.

He folded himself over you, fisting a hand in your hair and yanking your head back. “Please what?”

You mewled under him, trying to push back against his body as you searched for relief. You knew he was strong, much stronger than he let on. Feeling him position you just how he wanted, knowing he was going to take you how he wanted was a bigger turn on than you could’ve imagined. “Please,” you begged again. “Please show me I’m yours.”

He smiled, using the hand in your hair to turn your face toward the mirror at the back of the stage. “Is that what you want to see, tesorino?”

Before you could answer, he pushed into you, burying himself with a quick thrust that left your mouth hanging open and your eyes rolling back. The stretch of him inside your cunt burned despite how wet you were, but he gave you a moment to adjust as his hand left your hair in favor of your tits. He pinched your nipple between his fingers, waiting for you to whine and writhe against him as he drew his hips back slowly.

You clawed helplessly at the glossy floor, trying to anchor yourself to anything as he brought his hands to your hips and pushed back into you. He set a steady pace, pulling at your hips to meet each rough thrust. You watched him in the mirror, biting into his own lip as he pounded into that spot inside you that brought you screaming over the edge. He fucked you even harder through your orgasm, almost immediately drawing a second wave of bliss from you. Your knees were killing you and you were fairly sure you wouldn’t be able to walk after this, but you begged him not to stop, to take what he needed from you.

He wrapped a hand around your throat again, squeezing tight as he pulled you back against him and thrust deep. He bit into the other side of your neck as he came, grunting hard as he pumped each hot pulse into you. You came apart completely, your body going limp against his. Gently, he eased you down, laying you across the stage as he pulled out and withdrew his teeth from your neck. He collapsed next to you, breathing hard.

“Tesorino,” he sighed. “Are you ok?”

“I’m better than ok.”

He huffed out a small laugh and dropped a kiss on your shoulder. “Thank you, tesorino.”

It took every ounce of strength, but you turned your head to face him. “For what?”

He shrugged. “Everything.”

Somewhere behind you, Mary cleared their throat. “Guys, I’m really not trying to interrupt, but can you please take it upstairs? There are still bodies I have to get rid of.”

Secondo let you recover on the velvet chaise in his office, his suit jacket draped over you like a blanket. He busied himself digging through the security footage, trying to figure out exactly how this could have happened. Idolatry was supposed to be safe. He’d built a fortress in the middle of the city to protect himself and the people he’d tried so hard not to get attached to and it still failed. These hunters had destroyed everything he’d worked for in a matter of hours, taking one of his precious Dolls with them.

Whoever the hunters were, they didn’t seem to operate under the same moral codes of the past. Mina should have been off limits to any of them, no matter how hard she fought back. The security tapes showed exactly how hard she fought, a sequence of events even he found difficult to watch. They’d killed his friend. Before you, he knew he would’ve never admitted that even to himself, but now his entire world was different.

No one was going to touch you or his friends again.

A knock on the door pulled his attention away from the horrific video. Mary gave a slight wave from the open door, their arms full of random objects as they waited for permission to enter. Secondo raised an eyebrow and gestured for them to come inside, not quite understanding until Mary nodded toward you. He realized Mary was trying to give him space with you, not sure how much room the two of you needed to be comfortable. He thought maybe you would’ve been fine with anything, but Mary knew him well enough to consider just how weird the entire situation was. But when he really thought about it, he hadn’t been uncomfortable around you at all—not after you’d kissed him.

He watched as Mary gently pulled you into a seated position and pressed a juice box into your hand, urging you to drink. They squinted at the marks on your neck before digging into a first aid kit and motioned for Secondo to join them. He held your hand while Mary dabbed at your wounds, cleaning up the bloody mess he’d made of you. They showed him every step, each little piece of the human needs puzzle so he would know how to fix you up better next time. There were more pink bandages covered in cartoon cats because Mary simply couldn’t help themselves, but the newer bite was worse than he’d intended. That one required him to hold a patch against your neck while Mary stretched medical tape over the edges with a sigh.

“You should get her out of here,” Mary suggested flatly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he argued gruffly. “I can’t leave. I have to find out who these people are.”

“You need to take care of your very human girlfriend, Boss—”

“I am,” he snapped in a tone that suggested Mary should be very, very careful.

“You are,” Mary agreed quickly. “But she’s very weak, Boss. If they could do that to Mina…They already got in once. There’s nothing stopping them from coming back and if they did? Right now? What do you think would happen?”

Secondo watched you take a long pull from the straw poking out from the top of the juice box, its insides caving in as you went.

“Mary’s right,” you added drowsily, your voice quieted by your efforts not to move your neck. “If they can kill Mina like that, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill me in front of you.”

“Tesorino—”

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t fight back, but strategy is probably the better option here.”

He brought a hand to your face, smoothing a thumb over your cheek. “You’re very smart, tesorino.”

“Hmm, I thought I was ‘kind of hopeless.’”

His face fell, eyes darting back and forth as he thought hard, the realization hitting him like a truck. Idolatry had so many patrons it was impossible to know them all, but the people in that video were somehow familiar. “They’ve been here before.”

“Yeah, Boss. We’re still trying to figure out how they got in—”

“No, they’ve been here before. They’re…they’re members. They must have been for a while now. That man that grabbed you right after Halloween, the one at that club—”

“Oh, fuck,” Mary groaned. “Ok now you two really need to get out of here. Go back to the penthouse and lay low, ok? I’ll reach out to some of my contacts and see if we can find these assholes.”

“Mary, it’ll be fine—” he tried.

“I’m not worried about you,” Mary hissed through gritted teeth.

Both of their painted faces turned to look at you.

“What did I do?”

“Well, for one, you fucked a vampire—”

“Ok Mary,” Secondo said loudly as he stood. “We get it. We’re going. Just…she’s not the only human I worry about.”

Mary cringed. “You’re not going to try to kiss me, are you?”

Secondo scowled at them; every line of his face exaggerated by the paint. “Don’t die.”

The ride back to the penthouse was quiet. Secondo’s hand rested protectively on your thigh the entire time, using the occasional squeeze to ground him in his thoughts. You didn’t want to say it, but you suspected that one little phrase was the most he’d ever expressed how he felt toward Mary. As much as it would be great to have Secondo finally in touch with his feelings, you doubted that was truly the case. It was something you’d only noticed a handful of times, that look on his face when he was deeply concerned. It was there when you’d been attacked and that night he tucked you into your bed. And it was there when he said goodbye to Mary at Idolatry.

The vampire was worried.

He kept it to himself, of course, locked up behind the tight line of his lips. When you arrived at the penthouse, he didn’t bother to join you on the sofa. Instead, he went straight to the kitchen and busied himself with whatever he could find. You shuffled over and wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your face into his back as you tried to mimic his pose from earlier. You were nowhere near tall enough to completely envelope the man, but you latched on with all your strength anyway.

He placed a hand against your arms, letting his frantic movements slow with a soft hum. “Are you hungry, tesorino?”

You shrugged against him, not wanting to give up your position.

“I…It helps me sometimes. Cooking. It helps me calm down,” he admitted.

“That explains the lasagna,” you said with a light laugh. “And I believe I was promised food anyway?”

“Did I not satisfy your hunger last night, tesorino?”

You groaned, your cheeks heating up as you pushed your face even harder against him. “You’re so obnoxious.”

“Only for you.”

“Wow, I’m so lucky,” you teased sarcastically.

“Yeah, you really are.”

You rolled your eyes and pretended to dry heave as you peeled yourself off him and hopped on the counter. He grew quiet again, opting to tap a finger against your nose before shifting your leg out of the way. He reached into the cabinet below, grabbing whatever cookware he needed to distract himself from everything that was going on.

You watched him with a soft smile as he moved through the kitchen he knew so well, wondering how often it was he indulged in such things. There was a flow and a familiarity to his movements, like a muscle memory he couldn’t unlearn if he wanted to. Someday, you’d ask him about these things, about his past and who’d taught him to prepare food with such graceful movements. But today you were happy to watch silently as this man who had captured all your attention continued to surprise you.

When he finished, he passed you a plate before jumping up on the counter next to you. You sat shoulder to shoulder, still in silence aside from the occasional scrape of a fork. It was a comfortable quiet the two of you hadn’t yet been afforded. A brief moment of normalcy where you could rest your head on his shoulder and just exist together. It didn’t last long, but it was more than enough when he dropped a kiss on the top of your head and completely relaxed against you. You wanted to stay in that feeling forever, the soft and warm safety of belonging to someone who wanted to belong to you, but the quiet burst like a bubble, collapsing around you as his phone rumbled to life in his pocket.

He checked it quickly, letting you know Mary had sent an update as he read the lines of text. His teeth found his lip, chewing on the painted skin as his eyes darted back and forth. A heavy sigh left him before he heaved himself off the counter and gave you a worried look.

“These hunters…they’ve attacked others already. Mary said they have a poison—some kind of toxin that weakens us and they—” He swallowed hard, before continuing in a serious tone. “There’s something you should know.”

“If you’re going to start another ‘you shouldn’t be with me’ speech, I swear—”

“No, tesorino. I feel no guilt about my part in what happened. But all of this may be my own fault.”

“Ok,” you said slowly, sliding off the counter to reach for him. “You can tell me anything. Anything.”

He licked his lips as he looked down at you, some nervous gesture you hadn’t yet seen from him. He took your hand in his, running his thumb over your knuckles. “Our existence is…complicated. That’s part of the reason my brothers and I have settled so far apart. But before you started working for me, Terzo and I went to visit Copia. He was…being threatened by a religious organization—”

“You mean like a church?”

“An abbey full of satanic nuns, actually. They occupied part of his castle as some half-baked safety measure. I guess it kept curious townspeople away.”

“Huh. So, what happened?”

“They threatened him—threatened to kill him, to expose him. So, the three of us tore through the entire abbey in one night. It…it wasn’t pretty.”

You squeezed his hand. “Why would they threaten him? If they lived there…if they knew who he was…”

Secondo let a soft, shy smile grace his lips. “He fell in love with one of their nuns.”

You nodded slowly. “The Countess is a nun? A vampire Count and a nun?”

“She was. But the Sisters of Sin are far from your typical nuns, tesorino.”

“But if these nuns threatened him, all you did was protect him.”

“I suppose.”

“Baby, your brother needed help and you helped him. I don’t see how that could be a bad thing. Especially under the circumstances if his only crime was falling for someone. Unless that’s…” you trailed off, not wanting to say it aloud.

He cupped your face. “Tesorino, no. It should have been no one’s business, but it was. And unfortunately, killing that many humans doesn’t usually go unnoticed. And Copia turned the Countess without even thinking about it first.”

“What, you guys have some governing body to answer to?”

He shook his head. “Not in so many words, no. There are just…rules. Things that are supposed to keep us safe or keep you safe from us.”

“I’m safe with you.”

He shrugged. “You might not be.”

“Stop. I told you I don’t want to do that again—”

“I know, I’m not—I don’t want you to go, but these people are dangerous. You could get hurt or…they killed Mina without a second thought, and I don’t know what they’re going to do next.”

“What about your brothers?” you asked softly.

“What about them?”

“Couldn’t you call them and have them help you? Like you helped them?”

He shook his head. “It would only make things worse.”

“I don’t—”

“No, you don’t. There is no quick fix for what is happening. If I call them, if they come here—it has consequences, worse than the ones we’re facing now. We don’t even know who these people are; all we know is that they’re after me. I won’t bring my brothers here and deliver them to fucking vampire hunters.”

“But couldn’t they help you—”

“No,” he snapped harshly and quickly began to panic, a thousand apologies falling from his lips. “I’m sorry, amore. But no. I know you mean to help but I can’t. I couldn’t bring them here any easier than I could send you away.”

“So, what do we do?” you asked and looked up at him. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes, a dam ready to burst as you tried to hold back every worry. You could care less about what happened to you, but the thought of losing him hurt so much, an ache so deep you felt it with everything you were—bones and teeth and blood. Nothing was free from that horrible feeling as you reached for him, desperately wrapping yourself around him and hiding your face against his chest.

He slid an arm around you, holding you there as his phone began to ring again. He frowned at the screen, the indication that Mary was calling made both of your stomachs sink. He slid his thumb across the screen to accept the call, immediately switching to speaker as his grip on you tightened.

“Mary?” he asked carefully.

“Boss don’t—” Mary yelled, but the voice was far from the phone.

“We have your little pet,” a man spat into the phone over the sound of Mary struggling. “We normally wouldn’t bother, but you have an unusual attachment to your humans, Secondo. Is the girl with you?”

“Who are you?” he asked through gritted teeth. His fingers dug hard into your side; whatever calm he’d managed to find was long gone now, buried beneath a seething rage. It was coming off him in the same waves as before, when Lucy had shouted at him, but this time he wasn’t holding it back.

“You’ll find out soon enough, Mr. Emeritus,” the man teased. “That is, if you ever want to see them again.”

Secondo bared his teeth, an animalistic growl rising from his chest. “If you hurt them—”

“What? What will the big bad vampire do to little old me? Relax, old man. We’re not interested in hurting the familiar, we want you. So, what do you say, hm? What if I give you three days to make up your mind? You give yourself up or I kill your familiar. You choose.”

His chest heaved, fingernails breaking the skin and cutting into you as the man made his sickening offer. He didn’t bother letting Secondo answer. The man dropped this horrible ultimatum and ended the call before either of you could think.

“Baby?” you asked softly, shifting under his arm to alleviate the pressure from his hand.

He let up as he stared down at his phone, eyebrows knitted together. “Sorry,” he whispered softly. “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s ok,” you assured him. “What can I do?”

He shook his head. “Nothing, tesorino. You stay right here. I’m going to call my brothers.”

It wasn’t the sound of the elevator that woke you, but the sudden absence of Secondo’s body. That chime had pulled him from you faster than you thought possible. He’d barely left your side after the phone call, some part of him always touching you for reassurance that you were there, that you were ok. It was hard to see him so tense, but you did your best to offer him comfort in whatever way he seemed to accept. Staying within arm’s reach, tucking yourself into his side, occasionally pressing a soft kiss against the corner of his mouth; it was a simple list of things, but he’d relaxed against each one and finally allowed himself to doze off next to you.

As you slipped from the bed, you could hear him speaking distantly. A conversation moved between voices you didn’t recognize, the living room full of more life than ever. His brothers had arrived, their tones a little more easygoing than yours would’ve been, given the situation. Truthfully, you still didn’t know much about them. It was possible they had faced much worse in however many years of existence.

“I can’t believe you would show up like this,” Secondo groaned, his voice growing louder as you moved out of the bedroom and down the hallway.

“What is the problem, fratello?” the slightly smaller man asked. His face was painted like Secondo’s, though the design was different. He was dressed in an elaborate military uniform, complete with tails and gold accents. “You said war.”

“Epaulets?” Secondo barked. “The two of you in matching outfits is already too much, but epaulets? Seriously?”

“Hey,” the woman snapped, pushing herself between the two men. She was dressed in a uniform of her own, perfectly matched to the vampire next to her. Her paint was slightly more subtle with thick black rings surrounding her eyes. You realized they must be the Count and the Countess. “Little Lord Terzo walked in wearing a tux and you’re not yelling at him.”

“Yes, because I look amazing,” Terzo said proudly, dramatically sweeping a white glove over his outfit. His face was painted as well, but still different from his brothers with bold geometric lines drawn over his skin.

“Fuck, this was a terrible idea,” Secondo whined, burying his face in his hands as he dropped onto the sofa.

The Countess’s eyes went wide. Without Secondo’s massive form blocking out the room, she could see right to where you were standing.

“Hey Twos? Did you forget to mention something else on the phone?” the Countess asked lightly.

“What?”

Terzo turned and followed her line of sight, his eyes landing straight on you skirting the edge of the room. “Oh, fratello. Are you playing with your food now?”

Secondo moved too fast. Barely a blink, and he was across the room with Terzo hauled up by the collar, feet kicking wildly. “Watch your mouth, stronzino,” he ground out and dropped Terzo like dead weight before turning to you. “Tesorino, these are my idiot brothers Copia and Terzo,” he explained, pointing at the two men. “And this is the Countess, who is only dressed like an idiot.”

“This is vintage,” Terzo hissed from the ground.

“I don’t care,” Secondo sang.

The Countess looked back and forth from Secondo to you, a slight look of worry gracing her face before it changed to something happier. She crossed the room, tears spilling from her eyes as she ran toward you and pulled you into a hug. Her strength rivaled Secondo’s as she dragged you around like a rag doll. “The accountant.”

“Yes,” Secondo groaned and told them your name. “Now put her down, she’s a human not a kitten.”

“Um, hello,” you managed awkwardly as the Countess set you back down. “Sorry we’re not meeting under different circumstances.”

“Under different circumstances this stronzo would have kept you to himself,” Terzo said with a snort. He stepped toward you, giving you an appreciative look up and down. The action was not at all subtle, nor was the way he brought a gloved hand to your face, caressing your cheek. “Though I can see why.”

He let out a helpless yelp as Secondo grabbed the back of his jacket and tossed him across the room. “I’ll kill you far more painfully than those hunters, fratellino. Apologize.”

“Mi dispiace,” Terzo squeaked from the ground.

Copia cleared his throat. “He does have a point, Secondo. You also hide in your castle, it’s just—” He made a disgusted face. “Hideously box shaped.”

“I don’t know, amore,” the Countess argued. “It kind of suits him.”

“So glad you came all the way here to hate my apartment and hit on my girlfriend. Can we please focus? Mary is in trouble.”

You felt the mood shift in the room as Secondo all but admitted he was scared for his familiar. The others grew serious for the first time as they settled around the coffee table, each waiting for Secondo’s direction. When he finally spoke, the other vampires began shouting at him. He had delivered the worst plan any of you had ever heard—giving himself up. Whatever he’d said after that didn’t matter.

Copia began to pace, a long string of Italian swears and phrases falling effortlessly from his lips as he traced the length of the room and back. Any other time the family resemblance would have delighted you, but you barely noticed as Secondo’s words fully sunk in.

“You invited us here to watch you die?” Terzo spat venomously, saying exactly what everyone was thinking without any delicacy at all.

“Were none of you listening?” Secondo snapped back.

They began to argue, each vampire trying to shout over the others as you removed yourself from the scene. You closed the bedroom door behind you, trying to dampen the sounds of the argument. You curled up on the bed, hugging your knees to your chest as you chewed on your lip. You had listened, of course, just as the others did, and handing himself over to the hunters was only the first part of his plan, it was still the part that was hardest for any of you to hear.

The idea of losing him knocked the breath from your lungs, a pain that spread and burned deep in your chest. You wanted to scream until your throat bled, but you settled for crying alone in the dark of his room. A handful of days. That’s all the two of you had and it was nowhere near enough. Maybe if you had just said something earlier, maybe if you hadn’t doubted yourself so much the two of you could have had so much more.

“Tesorino?” he called quietly from the doorway.

There was silence behind him, the disagreement between the vampires long settled. You didn’t know how long you had been laying there crying in his bed. He didn’t wait for you to answer; he settled next to you and pulled you into his lap like he had done so many times now. The tears fell harder as you wondered if it would be the last.

“Amore, per favore,” he whispered into your hair. “What happened?”

You shook your head and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I don’t…I can’t…”

“Tesorino, it will be ok. I will find Mary; my brothers will find me, and I will come back to you.”

“It’s just…we—"

“Amore mio, mio cuore­—”

You choked out a small laugh. “I’m your heart now?”

“You have always been my heart, tesorino,” he said and held your hand against his chest. “Who taught you these words, hmm?”

“You think I would have a crush on a sexy Italian man and not do a little research?”

“Who is he? I’ll kill him.”

“Shut up,” you said softly and brought your lips to his.

“Tesorino, mio cuore, ti—”

You covered his mouth with your hands, gently shaking your head. “Don’t,” you begged in a whisper. “I know what you’re going to say, and I feel the same way about you. But right now, I need you to fuck me so hard I can’t remember how scared I am.”

He wrapped his hands around your wrists, pulling your hands away from his mouth. “Need?”

“Please?” you begged again, rocking your hips against him. “I just need—”

He brought his hands to your hips, guiding your movement. “Tell me.”

“I need to feel something else, Secondo. I need you.”

With a growl he turned his body, quickly pinning yours to the bed beneath him. He attacked the space where his borrowed t-shirt fell away from you, leaving your shoulder exposed like a target. He drew his teeth across your collarbone, pressing hard enough you were sure it would leave an angry red line. But you didn’t care what he did as long as he didn’t stop touching you. Somehow you had managed to have the best day of your life and the worst all at the same time, like some cosmic fucking joke about everything having a price. You didn’t want to think anymore, didn’t want to mourn your lost friend, or worry about what might happen to Mary or Secondo in the next few hours. You wanted a moment to just exist, where you and your lover were the only things left.

He moved down your chest, leaving a trail of hot kisses as his hands worked your shirt away from you. He took his sweet time, his mouth wrapping around one nipple, teasing it with his teeth while he pinched the other roughly between his fingers. A pleased hum reverberated in his chest as your hips bucked against him.

“So needy, tesorino,” he whispered against your skin, his thumbs dipping under the waistband of the shorts he’d set aside for you. He jerked them away from your hips, carelessly tossing them over his shoulder in a subtle display of his strength that made your core ache for him.

A new chorus of pleading and begging fell from your lips as he pushed your knees apart and hooked your legs over his shoulders.

“Oh god,” you whimpered as he flicked his tongue across your clit.

“No, not god,” he corrected with a light slap against your ass.

The feeling of his fingers against your entrance chased away whatever thoughts you had in your head. He pushed two fingers inside, slowly drawing them in and out as his mouth worked at your clit. You were a writhing mess beneath him, tears forming in the corners of your eyes as he brought you closer to your end.

And then the smug bastard stopped and looked up at you. “Do you want to cum, tesorino?”

“Secondo, please,” you whined.

He curved his fingers, pressing against the spot inside you that brought your hips off the bed. “You forget who I am, tesorino,” he said with a grin and withdrew his fingers, making a show of sucking them into his mouth. “If you need something from me, you need to ask for it.”

“Please,” you whispered. You tried to squeeze your legs together to relieve the growing pressure, but he was too strong. He kept you where he wanted you, making you want him, need him that much more. “Baby, please,” you asked again, tears of frustration spilling from your eyes. “Will you please make me cum?”

He clicked his tongue and looked down at you. “What if I say no?”

A pathetic, needy whimper escaped you in response. A sound he smiled at all too happily as he grabbed your hips. You braced yourself, ready for him to return his mouth to your aching core, but he flipped you onto your stomach, tossing you around like it was nothing. He drew his fingers over your cunt, gathering slick as he dipped his fingers back inside you, adding a third this time. He pushed you back to the edge, watching as you grasped for the sheets before sliding his fingers back out. You let out a hollow groan that he quickly shushed and slipped his thick, heavy cock between your folds. You shuddered as his tip caught against your clit again and again before he finally lined himself up and pushed into you.

The stretch of him was something you hoped you’d never get used to, the way he claimed your body with his own. It was everything you needed; he was everything you needed, and you loved him so completely you hoped you’d have the courage to tell him. This was hardly the right time, so you swallowed it back down as he wrapped your hair in his fist. He fucked you hard just like you asked, relentlessly pounding into you as you came apart beneath him. His skilled fingers found your clit, toying with your nerves as you arched back against him. It didn’t take long for him to bring you to your end, grunting as you tensed around him. He pressed soft kisses into your shoulder as you rode out the waves of your orgasm, holding you tight to his chest until your body stopped shaking.

“Are you ok, amore?” he asked, lips ghosting over your neck. He leaned down to whisper into your ear. “Can you take more?”

You mewled and nodded, searching for the words to beg him to keep going. A soft “please” was all you could manage. He pulled out of you slowly, groaning at the feeling as his hands found your hips again and guided you onto your back. He bent down, catching your lips in a hungry kiss that was all tongues and teeth as he pushed back into you. He drew his hips back slowly, the drag of him torturous. He kissed every space of your neck he could reach, all the places that weren’t covered with bandages or marks healing slowly from his previous attacks. He urged your legs around him, thrusting deep into you to find that spot that felt so good you thought you might cry. He pushed against it over and over, his mouth crushing against yours as he fucked you slower than he ever had. His hips stuttered as your breath caught in your throat, that familiar pull building in your stomach.

He looked down, a filthy moan escaping as he watched your bodies connect. He pleaded with you, asking you to look at him, to cum for him as his pace picked up and his fingers dug into your hips. You threw your arms around his neck, bringing him down to press your forehead to his as you let go. He gasped softly, his eyes on yours as his muscles went stiff and he spilled inside you with a loud moan.

He kissed you again, lazily drawing his tongue over yours as you both struggled to catch your breath. He pulled out and rolled onto the bed next to you, draping his arm over your stomach and pulling you close with a tired smile.

“You are, you know,” he said softly.

“What’s that?”

He brought your hand to his chest. “Mio cuore­.”

“You know you’re mine too, right?” you asked, barely fighting back the tears.

“I do, amore. It might be the only thing I’m sure of anymore.”

You turned to bury your face against his chest, mumbling into his skin. “Please don’t leave me.”

“Never,” he promised and kissed the top of your head.

Secondo pulled away from you carefully, checking to make sure he didn’t wake you as he climbed out of bed. He had felt restless for days now, an itch under the skin that only seemed to stop as long as he had his hands on you. But now it was no longer working, the worries too immense to bury by proximity to you alone. For the first time in hundreds of years, he had someone else to consider. He was more than happy about it, but he didn’t want you to feel smothered by his new need to be close to you. Especially with everything that had already happened.

He left you to sleep as he padded softly toward the kitchen, surprised by the faint light of the open fridge. He cleared his throat causing Copia to lean around the door and reveal his disheveled state. His hair was a mess, and his shirt was long gone, paints smeared to hell and back as he clutched a juice box in one hand and a block of cheese in the other.

“Buongiorno fratello,” he said in a scratchy tone. “Can’t sleep?”

“That stuff is for my human guests, you decrepit old man,” Secondo grumbled. He moved around Copia to fetch two rocks glasses and a bottle of whiskey from the nearby bar.

Copia shook his head. “I may be new to all of this, but I don’t think you should call your amore a ‘guest.’”

“Shut up and put the cheese back,” he huffed. Twisting the lid from the bottle, he tossed it aside and poured a glass for his youngest brother, setting it in front of him.

Copia returned the cheese to the fridge and closed the door behind him, the faint light disappearing as it snapped shut. He shuffled over, making a face as he sniffed at the amber liquid in the glass. “Eh—”

“Drink it old man.”

“You’re older than me,” Copia reminded him, grimacing as he chased the statement with a taste of whiskey. “Or does the girl make you feel young again?”

“What makes you think we’re going to talk about this?” Secondo groaned.

“What makes you think we won’t? It is nice to see you happy, fratello. It’s been a long time.”

Secondo shrugged and downed his whiskey in one go. “Could say the same for you.”

“Sì, the Countess has made me a very happy man,” he said with a dreamy sigh. “But that does not solve all my problems.”

The older man snorted. “Not enough room in your castle for two collections of capes?”

“She is young, fratello,” he said and clapped Secondo on the shoulder. “You know how new vampires are, hungry, impulsive. She’s fearless and I love her for that, but I also worry. A lot.”

“You and I both know she can take care of herself—”

“Sì, sì, I have no doubts about that, but it doesn’t stop me from worrying. Doesn’t stop me from loving her more than I love myself. It—love—changes you, fratello.”

Secondo said nothing as he poured himself another glass and swallowed it down as quickly as the first.

“Have you heard from Primo?” Copia asked, mercifully changing the subject.

“I couldn’t reach him. I left a message for him, but I don’t know where he is.”

“That’s—”

“It’s not something we need to worry about right now, fratellino.”

The elevator chimed, cutting off their conversation completely. Both men tensed, ready to advance on any intruder who might emerge. Instead, a drunken Terzo spilled out of the elevator, his bowtie and shirt undone with at least three distinct colors of lipstick around his collar and blood around his mouth.

“Uomini,” Terzo hiccupped and tucked a hand against his stomach as he bowed.

“Idiota,” Secondo ground out, rushing across the room to grab the smaller man. “You stupid, selfish bastard—”

“What did I do?” he squeaked, wrestling against Secondo’s hold.

Secondo shook his head and shoved his brother into the wall. “This city is full of vampire hunters, Terzo. You can’t possibly be this stupid.”

“Do I look dead to you?” he snapped back. “No? I look good and you two look like a couple of old, boring cunts.”

Copia sighed and shook his head, completely uninterested in engaging in Terzo’s games. “I’m going back to the Countess. Secondo, do you mind if I borrow that ice pack?” he asked, but didn’t wait for an answer as he fetched the small pack from the freezer. “My back is killing me.”

Terzo grinned widely. “Can’t keep up with your woman, old man?”

Copia narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t know the first thing about satisfying anyone but yourself, stronzo.”

Secondo smacked the back of Terzo’s head, sending him forward several steps. “Everyone go back to bed, for the love of Satan. Do not leave again.”

Terzo huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s fine, stronzo. I wasn’t—”

“Shut up and go to sleep or so help me I will put you out that window,” Secondo snapped, pretending not to hear Terzo’s smartass retort. Instead, he let his tired legs carry him back to the bedroom, back to you.

With every step he began to regret several moments of his long life. Buying this ridiculous penthouse with far too many bedrooms against Mary’s advice. Buying the SUV Mary hated driving. Severing whatever bond he’d had with his brothers while seeking his own independence and letting that same attitude grow enough to keep him from recognizing his feelings for you. Wandering away from you just before dawn in favor of an argument with those same idiot brothers. And being unable to protect you or Mina or Mary from the things that chased monsters like him in the dark. Maybe after all this he could take you away and live someplace quiet like his brothers did.

He was sure now he would do anything it took to keep you safe.

He slipped back between the blankets, pressing himself to you as close as he could manage. It didn’t do much to quiet his racing thoughts, new worries swirling around the old as you stirred just a little. You turned to face him, gracing him with that sleepy smile he used to daydream about. He pressed a kiss against your forehead as you nuzzled against him, seeking the safety and comfort of his touch. He couldn’t say it. He knew it wasn’t the right time after you stopped him before, but he would tell you soon.

The mattress dipped under the weight of your lover returning to the bed once again. He’d been so anxious while you slept, carefully and quietly leaving your side to return moments later. You assumed he was pacing again, taking long strides through the penthouse and back as he checked on the wellbeing of everyone else in the house. You could only hope it helped. You had no more calming words left to give him; you’d used them all on yourself.

But here he was, back by your side again. You were all too happy to shift closer and let him wrap his strong arms around you. When he didn’t, you rolled over hoping to ask if everything was ok. As you opened your eyes, you realized things were far from ok.

You threw a punch, your fist connecting with the intruder’s nose. Your vision was still blurred, bleary eyed from sleep and an extremely dimly lit room, but you could tell Secondo from anyone. And he didn’t wear silk pajamas.

“Oh, Satan’s dick!” Terzo wailed, a rush of dark blood pouring from his presumably broken nose. It spilled through his fingers, droplets soaking into the sheets. “Satanas, why, dolce?”

“What the fuck are you doing?” you screamed back at him, scrambling to get away. You fell over the far edge, your body hitting the floor with a solid thud.

“I was bored!” Terzo howled behind his hands. “There is nothing to do in this ugly grey box!”

“So what? You thought you’d try your luck with your brother’s girlfriend?”

“Satanas, no! One, he would kill me, and I am quite enjoying my eternal life, thank you very much. Two, I’m here to protect you, not take advantage of you—”

You jumped to your feet, frantically looking back and forth. “Why? Where is Secondo?”

“Eh—”

“You want me to break another bone?”

Terzo grinned widely, the blood from his nose now staining his teeth. “I see why he likes you.”

“Start talking,” you growled as you reached for the lamp on the nightstand.

“Ok, ok, ok,” he said quickly, holding his hands up in surrender. “Secondo and the others…left.”

“What?”

“He didn’t want to wake you,” he explained, shaking his head. “The Countess tried to tell him it was a stupid idea, but Secondo doesn’t really listen to anyone. You know how he is. Unless he listens to you. Does he listen to you?”

You sank to the floor. “He just…left? Without saying anything?”

“Maybe he thought it was the only way he could go through with it?”

“Stop. Talking.”

“But how will I tell you about the note?” he asked and produced an envelope from his pocket with a Cheshire grin.

“Terzo,” you started slowly. “Has anyone ever told you how insufferable you are?”

He licked his lips. “What’s that mean?”

“It means even though we just met, I already want to kill you.”

“Take a number,” he said with a shrug. He tossed the note toward you, letting it fall onto the bed. “I’ll give you two some time alone.”

Terzo sauntered out of the room and closed the door behind him, unbothered by the trail of blood he left in his wake.

You fetched the note from the bed and sat cross-legged on the floor. You took a deep breath as you traced over the way Secondo had written your name in his overly elaborate penmanship. It was yet another thing about him that was a product of another time that he still carried around. All the things you’d pushed back, the things you’d left to ask him later were beginning to pile up and now you might never get those answers. You tried so hard not to think of it that way, but the fact was none of you knew who these hunters were or what they truly wanted. It made them dangerous and unpredictable even if your lover was a fucking immortal vampire.

You tore into the envelope, freeing the page inside.

Tesorino,

I am not saying goodbye, because this isn’t truly goodbye. I have lived many unhappy lifetimes alone only to find you in this one. I will come back to you, amore. I will always come back to you.

Tuo cuore, Secondo

PS Be patient with Terzo. He’s an ass, but he will fight for you just as hard as I will.

You felt your heart crack in your chest, a broken sob leaving your lips as you curled up on the floor. You didn’t have many tears left after the last few days, but you shed what you could before you pulled yourself up, determined to let that be the last sense of desperation you felt.

Secondo’s things lined the edges of his closet, still waiting for him in neat rows of black and green. You helped yourself to his wardrobe, dressing yourself like him as you had on Halloween to somehow make yourself feel better, before emerging from the room.

Terzo had dressed himself in the tuxedo again and draped himself lazily across the sofa with a bottle of wine and no apparent worries. He raised an eyebrow as you fiddled with one of Secondo’s watches, the band not suited to your wrist.

“Eh—”

“I don’t have clothes here,” you explained, cutting off whatever smartass thing he was about to say.

“The velvet suits you,” he said with a shrug. “I thought you lived here?”

“He really doesn’t tell you anything, does he?”

“No, but that’s nothing new. He’s always been like that—private. But he didn’t even tell the Countess you were here, so it’s not like my feelings are hurt.”

You managed a nod as you moved into the kitchen, uninterested in learning things about Secondo from Terzo’s perspective before you heard them from the man himself. Armed with a snack, you sat on the opposite end of the sofa, keeping your distance from Terzo and his bare feet. He held out the bottle of wine, offering it to you with a little wave.

“I’m good,” you said quietly.

“You’re sulking in your boyfriend’s clothes.”

“You say that like he went to the fucking store. He’s turning himself over to vampire hunters who apparently have some sort of poison that works on you to hopefully save his familiar and putting the rest of his trust in the Count and Countess to get him out of there. Why are you so fucking calm about this?”

“He also has Alpha and Omega with him.”

“Who the fuck is that?”

“My Ghouls,” Terzo stated simply. “Like I would just show up here empty handed? Please, bambina.”

“Ok, even if I knew what the fuck you were talking about—”

“Ghouls,” he snapped impatiently. “Are beings I summoned from hell to protect me—”

“Is that supposed to make me worry less?”

Terzo sat up and regarded you carefully. “He hasn’t…told you very much, eh?”

You sighed. “We haven’t exactly had time to talk about these things.”

He nodded once, pushing the bottle toward you again. This time you accepted. “What…how can I help? I cannot speak for him, but I do have some answers.”

You took a long pull from the bottle and swallowed hard. “Who are they?”

“Who?” Terzo asked.

“The hunters.”

“Oh, eh.” He shrugged, waving a noncommittal hand through the air.

“Ok, but do they call themselves something?”

“...Hunters?”

“Thanks for being so helpful Terzo!” 

“What the fuck I'm supposed to stop eating them to ask them twenty questions?” he snapped.

“Well maybe there are more of them!”

“There's always more! Just a bunch of poorly dressed stronzos with pointy things. Boring. Who cares?”

“Terzo!”

“What? Bambina, I have lived many, many years. These hunters never worried me before, they will not worry me now.”

“But your brother—”

“Sì, mio fratello is a big, strong man who can take care of himself, always has. Do you think he will not fight harder now that he has someone waiting for him to return? Read a book.”

“How can you be so calm about this?” you screamed.

“What is the alternative?” he screamed back. “You get all worked up and worried and he comes back fine? You kiss and make up. It’s all very simple. Very boring. Why waste the energy?”

“You’re the worst.”

“Why? Because I don’t show my feelings the same way as you? I am here, bambina. Secondo called and I am here sitting with you, keeping you safe. Copia and the Countess came too. You’re not yelling at them for going!”

“But…he might—”

Terzo brought a gloved hand to your face. “No, bambina. No what if. He has you now and he will come back to you. I have never seen him so…eh,” he paused and waved his hand around. “Mittens.”

“Smitten?”

“Sì, sì, smitten. Me? I fall in love every day. Exciting, no? But Secondo?”

“Don’t. Don’t say it.”

He tilted his head. “He has not told you this?”

“That…that’s between me and him, ok?”

He sucked his teeth. “You’re unsure?”

You shook your head. “It’s not that. I know he—he cares about me. It’s just—you’re not who I want to hear it from. No offense.”

“None taken, bambina. But you should trust me when I say he will be back for you, ok?”

“I think we need more wine.”

“That I can help with!” he said happily and jumped up from the sofa.

Secondo parked behind the club, nervously tapping his fingers along the steering wheel as he searched the darkened lot. The place should have been completely empty, but there were a handful of nondescript trucks parked around Mary’s SUV, boxing it in.

“Take a breath, Twos,” The Countess ordered from the speaker phone.

He wasn’t sure where she and Copia had set up to keep an eye on him. The element of surprise was the only thing they really had going for them. He didn’t know how much these hunters knew about him or his family, whether they were expecting them or if they were stupid enough to think he’d come alone.

He hoped they were just cocky and stupid.

“You two all set?” he asked as he unclicked the seatbelt, letting it slide back into its housing.

“Yes,” Copia confirmed. “Eh, fratello?”

“Don’t start,” Secondo warned. “Alpha? Omega?”

“We’re set,” Omega said. “But are you sure we can’t just eat them?”

“Not until everyone is safe.”

“Fine,” Omega agreed.

He ended the call without another word, pocketing his phone before sliding out of the car. It was the first time he’d ever felt wrong approaching Idolatry. The building still sat unlit and empty of patrons, occupied now by who knows how many hunters. They swarmed like plague locusts, crawling over and destroying everything he’d worked so hard to build. Bits of broken glass crunched under his shoes as he made his way into the main stage area. Not a single mirror or light had been left untouched, everything smashed to hell like the hunters had taken bats to every inch of the place. The entire inventory of liquor behind the bar was gone, a rainbow of broken glass now floating atop a disgusting puddle of who-knows-what and a splash of Blue Curacao.

Mary was on the main stage, bound to the pole with a gag in their mouth. Some wretched little shit knelt beside them, shoving them as they spoke and taunting them with a large knife. The kid caught Secondo’s reflection in one of the busted mirrors, a sick grin spreading over his face as he turned to face the vampire.

“Holy shit. You really do paint your face like that? Like all the time?” the kid asked and jumped off the stage.

He couldn’t have been any older than twenty-four. Young. Cocky. Hopefully stupid too. Secondo had no fucking idea who he was.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Hunter.”

“I said who not what—”

“My name is Hunter,” the kid said slowly.

“A hunter named Hunter,” Secondo mumbled back. “Unbelievable.”

“That’s funny coming from a guy who runs around calling himself the Second.”

“Listen, you little shit—”

“Did you forget why we’re here, Mr. Emeritus? I’d be happy to gut your familiar if that reminds you.”

Secondo took a step back. “You can let them go. You have me now.”

Hunter laughed. “Did you really think that would be how this worked out? Neither one of you are going anywhere now.”

“Look, whatever your deal is Mary’s not a part of it.”

“Man, you really do love your little humans,” he said with a chuckle, shaking his head. “The problem here, Mr. Emeritus, is that I can’t use Mary to get what I want anymore—”

“Are you ever going to say what it is you want? Or are you just going to keep going on like a child?”

He shrugged. “You know, if this was my first dance you would probably be very intimidating, so don’t feel bad that it’s not working. But the thing is, you’re not the first vampire to threaten me. My sister and I have been doing this for a very long time.”

Secondo flinched. “Sister?”

A sinister smile crept across Hunter’s face. “You vampires think you’re the only ones who can keep secrets.”

Mary yelled something unintelligible against their gag as Secondo felt a sharp, stinging pain in the back of his arm. He dropped to his knees, the poison working almost instantly to weaken him. He felt a hand grab the collar of his jacket, jerking his head back to see just who had snuck up on him.

“Hey Bone Daddy,” Lucy said with a sneer before stabbing another syringe into his neck.

“Well, that was almost too easy,” Hunter said with a smirk. He hopped up on the stage and cut through the cable tie that held Mary to the pole. “C’mon buddy,” he snapped as he dragged Mary to their feet. “Let’s give these two some privacy, huh? How about we go and have a chat on the roof?”

Secondo watched helplessly as Mary struggled against the hunter. His veins filled with fire, whatever poison they’d discovered painfully burning its way through his system. Lucy knelt in front of him, a sick, satisfied smile on her face.

“Hurts, huh?”

“Fuck you,” he spat.

“No, see that’s what keeps getting you and your brothers in trouble. You keep finding these weak humans to become your pets. It’s kind of gross, honestly.”

“If you’re going to kill me, just kill me,” he groaned.

“Oh, don’t worry. We will. But not until we get what we want.”

“What is it you want? Why are you even doing this?”

She smiled again. “We’re going to destroy your whole family.”

“What?”

“Did you really think we wouldn’t know you’d bring your brothers here? After what you all did at that abbey you should’ve expected this. Did you think we wouldn’t set traps for them the same way we set traps for you? Honestly, Secondo this whole thing was far too easy. I think you’ve all gotten soft in your old age.”

His phone rang inside his pocket, finally shutting the girl up. He couldn’t move to answer it or stop her from fishing it out herself, his body no longer cooperating with his mind. Lucy offered another evil grin before holding the phone up to his face to unlock it, the Countess’ name scrolling across the screen.

“Twos? What the fuck? Where are you?” her voice was frantic, barely audible over Copia’s shouting. “Sec—” she broke off and let out a horrible, piercing scream.

Secondo’s stomach turned as Lucy ended the call, raising an eyebrow. “Oops.”

Terzo yelled something inaudible from Secondo’s closet as you climbed over the sofa to reach for the remote to the stereo. ABBA blared from the speakers surrounding the room, the product of too much wine and the vampire’s “need” to dance. You slipped and drunkenly fell to the floor, spilling an entire glass on the rug as you landed hard.

“What?” you yelled back, knowing he likely couldn’t hear you either. On the other end of the room, the intercom buzzed. The screen next to the elevator lit up, the camera downstairs now displaying a visitor. You squinted at the image but couldn’t make it out from where you were. You fought with the remote, finally silencing the Swedes as you climbed to your feet and crossed the room.

Lucy stood under the camera in the lobby, patiently waiting for a response from the penthouse.

“Hey Lucy,” you said into the intercom. “What are you doing here?”

She looked up at the camera, chewing on her bottom lip. “Bone Daddy said I’d be safe here. Didn’t he call you?”

“I must not have heard it. Come on up,” you said happily and pressed the button to call the elevator.

You wandered back to the kitchen to refill your glass, grabbing one for Lucy in case she wanted to join you. As the elevator chimed to note her arrival, you carried the drinks toward the doors, a silly grin on your face. When they slid open you dropped both, the fragile glass shattering on impact as you brought your hands to your face.

Secondo was slumped against some kid, his face and clothes covered in blood. The kid dropped him at your feet, the vampire unable to move to break his own fall as he and Lucy walked in like they owned the place.

“Lucy? What—”

“Hunter, shut her up,” she barked and grabbed Secondo by the collar, dragging his dead weight through the broken glass.

Hunter moved behind you, grabbing your arm as he forced you to the ground. “Do it,” he said into your ear. “Call for help.”

You shook your head, biting down on your lip to keep quiet. Your resolve lasted only a moment, breaking as soon as he pressed a knife into your skin. You screamed, howling in pain as your skin split under the pressure of the blade. Secondo twitched, trying to pull himself up to stop the kid from cutting into you. He collapsed on the floor again with a heavy thud, Lucy’s laugh ringing evilly in the air as you lost sight of her.

“Bambina,” Terzo sang as he emerged from the bedroom dressed in Secondo’s clothes. He stopped short as he spotted you bleeding in the hunter’s arms. “Who the fuck—AH!”

Tears pricked your eyes as Terzo sank like a stone, the ugly sight of a syringe sticking out of his neck now burned into your memory. Lucy bent down, grabbing a handful of his black hair to pull his head back up.

“You know, I really thought you might put up more of a fight, Terzo Emeritus. I’m almost disappointed,” she said with a click of her tongue.

Terzo grabbed her ankle and pulled, knocking her completely off balance. She fell hard, her face smashing into the floor with a sickening crunch. Blood sprayed everywhere as she lifted her head, laughing as she spit out a tooth.

“That’s more like it.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Terzo growled, fighting hard against the poison.

“Oh, I’m Lucy and that’s my brother, Hunter.”

“Is that supposed to mean something?”

“Not at all, actually,” she confirmed and spat a mouthful of blood on the floor. “Now,” she said and placed her foot on Terzo’s back, forcing him to the floor. “Which one of you wants to tell us where Primo is?”

“Get fucked,” Terzo snapped. “Preferably with a cactus.”

“Primo?” Secondo asked weakly. “That’s what this is about?”

“Oh, I think we have a winner, Terzo.” Lucy left him on the floor and walked back to Secondo. She pulled him into a seated position and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at her. “Secondo, where is your brother?”

He shook his head. “Even if I knew, what makes you think I’d tell you?”

“Oh, my stupid little vampire man,” she sighed. “That might have been a possibility before you started fucking your accountant. But now you have a very human girlfriend who I can hurt a lot before she runs out of blood. Honestly, you made this insultingly easy.”

“Don’t,” he begged. “I don’t know where Primo is and hurting her isn’t going to get you an answer.”

“We’ll see.” She settled in front of you and pushed her fingernails into a cut on your arm, a horrible cry erupting from your chest. She clicked her tongue. “What do you think, Secondo? Should I pull out her fingernails or teeth first? I wonder which hurts worse?”

He shook his head wildly. “Please, I don’t know where he is. None of us do.”

“Hmm. That’s really too bad for your girlfriend,” she said with a false sadness, taking the knife from Hunter’s hand.

She pointed the tip just below your collarbone and pushed. A horrible, white-hot pain erupted from the spot, growing as the knife sank deeper into your chest. You couldn’t control the sound you made, an awful, wounded cry that was soon drowned out by Lucy’s own wail. Something warm and wet dripped onto your face, the scent of copper flooding your nostrils. You looked up, trying not to pass out from the pain as Lucy quickly jerked the knife from your chest. She swung the thing wildly, reaching for something beyond you. More blood spilled onto the floor, falling into the rhythm of your heartbeat.

Another vampire stood above you, his mouth and long white hair stained red, hanging over the familiar shape of skeletal paint. He pulled his teeth out of the remains of Hunter’s neck as his headless, lifeless body hit the ground. Lucy was screaming so loud you thought she would break all the windows, stopping only as the older vampire dropped the head of her brother in her lap.

You tried to crawl away, your hands slipping out from under you as they lost traction on the blood. Too weak to push yourself back up, too cold to move, you laid there helplessly trying to make sense of the scene around you. The vampire you didn’t know seemed unconcerned with Lucy’s presence, instead he moved through the room, a blur in your vision as he tended to the others with syringes of his own. Secondo dragged himself toward you as soon as he could manage, pulling you into his lap and asking you questions you didn’t understand. You felt something else hit your face, barely registering that your vampire was crying.

“Tesorino,” he whispered, holding you tight to his chest. “Mi dispiace tanto, amore mio. Ti amo. Ti amo.”

“I love you, too,” you whispered back. “Even if you are the worst.”

He cracked a smile, trying not to laugh. “Really? Now?”

“S’why you love me,” you slurred, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“Of course, it is, tesorino. And why I always will.” He kissed your forehead and tightened his grip even more. “But…I can hear your heart, mio cuore. If I don’t,” he paused to let out a shaky breath. “If I don’t… you’ll…”

“I want,” you tried weakly.

“It’s forever, amore,” he warned quietly.

“It’s forever with you.”

He bit into his wrist and pressed the wound against your lips. Thick, warm blood quickly filled your mouth. It was unlike anything you’d ever tasted. Not that metallic tinge you knew from biting your tongue or busting your lip. It was sweet like honey, as though you could taste how much he loved you, how he carried it with him always, his veins full of you. You drank it down, savoring every drop as he continued to profess his love, whispering adoration into your ear. Your heart stuttered painfully, kicking against your ribcage as it slowed to a stop, your vision going dark.

You woke up cradled in Secondo’s arms, pressed tight against his chest. You were covered in blood, just as you were when you’d passed out in his office all those weeks ago. Only this time, a lot of it was your own. Pain shot down your spine as your heart beat once, twice, and again, stuttering into a steady rhythm to pump a mixture of what was left of your blood with Secondo’s through your now-dead veins. Each wound burned down to a cellular level, your nerves and skin slowly stitching themselves back together to fill in the gaps left by the hunter’s knife.

You groaned, turning against your lover to find a less painful position. No respite was granted no matter how you situated yourself. Your jaw ached; your teeth felt brand new in your mouth, foreign and sore like a filling that needed to be grinded down. Fangs now jutted out of your gums, the edges sharp as any blade.

“Welcome back, tesorino,” he said softly and caressed the side of your face that wasn’t pushing into him. “How do you feel?”

You held onto him, breathing deep with a satisfied moan. Secondo’s cologne filled your nostrils as you rubbed your face against his jacket, the velvet fabric tickling your cheek. “I feel…everything.”

He ran a hand through your hair. “You will probably feel like that for a while, amore. Transition can be…intense.”

You flinched as you closed your eyes, everything too bright. “It kind of…hurts.”

“I know, amore. I’m sorry for that,” he whispered, his lips against your forehead. “But I think I can help you feel better. Would you like to try?”

You nodded as he placed a hand under your chin, tilting your face up so he could place a soft kiss on your lips. You tried to deepen the kiss, but he pulled away and set you against the sofa. His footsteps sounded like thunder in your ears, and you pressed your face into the fabric, trying to dampen it. You found more smells there, the fabric covering the cushions and the padding inside. You could smell the wood that composed the frame, down to the marks burned in by the manufacturers stamp. But there was something else under it, something acrid and familiar that made your stomach growl.

Oh, you’d never been so painfully hungry in your entire life. Even those times when you’d get too busy or simply just forget to eat never felt like this.

You turned your head, blinking hard as you tried to adjust to the light of the room. Secondo dragged Lucy toward you, ignoring her tearful pleas as he dropped her in front of you.

Blood.

You could smell blood.

You looked up at your lover, tracing a finger over your new teeth. He offered you a soft, fond smile.

“You should eat something,” he said as easily as he had when he would deliver those amazing croissants to your desk.

“You mean…?”

He nodded.

A low growl rumbled in your chest as you remembered Lucy’s face grinning happily as she stabbed you.

She tried to struggle, but Secondo placed his foot on her back, pinning her down. You crawled toward her, approaching slowly as you watched your prey. Pitiful, useless tears fell from her eyes as she begged you with words that didn’t make it far enough past your ears to be understood. It surprised you as much as her when your palm connected with her cheek. It surprised you less when your fist connected.

Her lip split against your fist just as Secondo’s had when she hit him. It didn’t make you even. Nothing she said or did could ever make up for trying to kill you, to kill Secondo. To kill his family. He looked on, a flicker of pride behind his eyes as you wrenched Lucy from the floor and dug your teeth deep into her neck. Blood filled your mouth, an odd mixture of bitter and satisfying tastes dancing on your tongue. It was different from Secondo’s; Lucy’s blood wasn’t filled with love for you, but you could somehow taste her life as you drank. Taste it flickering and fading as her heart slowed to a crawl and her whimpers turned to gasping breaths. You dropped her body there on the floor, discarding her as easily as she was willing to do to you. Trading her life for your own.

You closed your eyes, body shuddering as you licked the blood from your teeth.

“How do you feel now, tesorino?” Secondo asked, slightly amused.

A low growl rumbled in your chest as you scrambled across the floor, crawling over Lucy’s dead body to reach him. You grabbed at the waistband of his trousers, not bothering with the fastenings as you ripped the fabric apart. He let out a surprised sound as the seams ripped and fell away, leaving his half-hard cock hanging heavy in front of you.

“You like to watch?” you asked as you took him in your hand, slowly pumping his length.

“Only you,” he said with a grunt, letting his eyes close as his cock fattened up.

“Look at me then,” you commanded, waiting for him to obey. Slowly, his eyes met yours and he struggled to keep them open as you took him in your mouth. His hand shot into your hair, grabbing a fistful as you swirled your tongue around the head of his cock. You pulled off and grinned up at him. “Good boy.”

He let out a filthy moan as you swallowed him back down, working your mouth and hands over him as best as you could. His knees jerked as he hit the back of your throat, the hand in your hair tightening as you pressed your nose into the dark patch of hair at the base of his cock. You looked up at him, batting your lashes as tears formed at the corners of your eyes. You grabbed his hips and forced him down further, an absolutely unholy sound leaving your lover as you worked him over.

“Fuck, tesorino, amore, please,” he begged, stomach muscles tightening as he tried to fight his orgasm.

You hummed around him, granting the man no mercy as the salt of him hit the back of your tongue. He swore loudly as he spilled down your throat, his eyes still lovingly focused on you. His mouth hung open wordlessly as you swallowed his spend and you knew he was memorizing the image of you on your knees for him. He pulled away, his cock slipping from your mouth so he could reach down and pull you to your feet. He kissed you hard, unbothered by the taste of himself.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he whispered against your lips.

“I love you,” you whispered back. “So fucking much.”

He picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder to carry you into the bedroom, completely ignoring the carnage in the living room. He dropped you on the bed, shedding his shirt as he kicked off what was left of his pants. He crawled up your body, fingers quickly ripping the buttons of your borrowed shirt apart. You raised your hips, helping him to pull your bottoms from your body.

You cupped his face, bringing him down to kiss you once again. Your body felt electric, all your nerves sparking where he touched. He pushed your knees apart, settling between your legs as he moved his mouth to your neck. His thumb swiped over your clit as he bit down, placing a new bite over the freshly healed space. Moans left both of you as your blood filled his mouth, his hand still working quickly as he teased his fingers against your entrance.

As he pulled his mouth away, you shoved him onto his back, both of you surprised by your strength. You ground your hips against him, his cock already growing hard again beneath you. You swatted his hands away as he reached for you, pinning his wrists above his head as you bent down and sank your teeth into his neck. He moaned loudly, his hips jerking under you as you sucked at the bite. You moved and bit into the other side, wanting to hear him make that sound again.

“Amore, please,” he whined, lifting his hips again to gain more contact.

You pulled back and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at you. “If you need something from me, you need to ask for it.”

He raised an eyebrow as you repeated his words back to him. “You know I’m going to get you for this.”

“I’m counting on it.”

He swallowed hard. “Please, amore,” he said softly, pretending to struggle against your hold. “I need—oh—”

You rocked yourself over his length before he could finish the thought. Guiding his hands to your hips, you reached between your bodies and lined your entrance against his cock, slowly sinking down until he filled you completely. You threw your head back as you set a slow pace, pressing your hand against his chest to keep him still. You fucked yourself on his thick cock, all kinds of praise and swears falling from your lips as he looked up at you. His pupils were blown wide, eyes filled with a look so full of lust it almost made you cum on its own. That tight band formed in your stomach as you looked down and watched him push into you. He could tell you were close, bringing his thumb to your clit once again to roll over the sensitive spot as you moved a little faster. You chased the feeling until the band snapped and you came with a desperate shout.

He watched you come down, a lazy smile on his face as your body tensed against his. He pulled you down to rest against his chest, softly kissing your cheek as you struggled to catch your breath. He smacked your ass hard before grabbing your hips and thrusting deep into you. You mewled, holding onto him as he fucked up into you hard and fast.

“I told you,” he grunted.

“Harder,” you begged, your nails digging into his arms.

He slammed into you relentlessly, the wet sound of sex almost as loud as the filthy moans leaving both of you. You came again, almost without warning as he panted into your ear, his hand gripped tight around your throat. He followed soon after, a guttural sound rising from his throat as he gritted his teeth and emptied himself into you.

“I fucking love you,” he said desperately and pulled you up to meet his lips in a bruising kiss. “Ti amo, amore mio.”

“Mio cuore,” you hummed against him. “I love you too.”

Everything smelled like fire. The scent was overwhelming, consuming every sense until it was the only thing you knew. You tried to focus, eyes adjusting to the surrounding blaze as you blinked. Smoke stung your eyes as the wind shifted, carrying the smell right over you.

Idolatry was on fire.

Secondo joined you, a hand on the small of your back as a window burst somewhere from the heat. You brought a hand to your mouth, shocked by the sight, shocked by how calm he was. You could make out the figures of Copia and the Countess, silhouetted by flames as they danced to a song only they could hear. There were more forms on the opposite end of the parking lot, shapes you didn’t quite recognize accompanied by another scent you were growing too familiar with.

The smell was growing stronger now, wind whipping and soaking the scent into your hair just as the pools soaked into the parking lot under the piles of bodies.

The smell of blood and death surrounded you as the roof of your former workplace caved in.

Mary lit a cigarette, the flame of the lighter revealing smeared blood and gore all over their face. “Well, shit,” they said with a huff. “What do we do now, Boss?”

Secondo shrugged. “I have insurance.”

“Does it cover acts of murderous vampire hunters?” the older vampire you still hadn’t met asked, swatting bits of sinew from his pants.

“Probably qualifies as arson,” Secondo said with a wave of his hand.

The other vampire reached for your hand, carefully bringing it to his lips as he introduced himself.

“It’s such a shame we had to meet like this, piccolina. I am Primo,” he said and dipped into a bow. “The eldest Emeritus brother.”

“I’m—”

“Oh, I know who you are, piccolina,” he said, casting a glance at his brother. Secondo wrapped an arm around Mary’s shoulder and ushered them away, giving you and Primo space to speak privately.

“I’m sorry. He hasn’t really told me much about you.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. He’s always been a little…secretive. Distant. Protective.”

“And you came to protect him.”

He nodded once. “He is my family. And now so are you.”

“Secondo’s not…in trouble for that, is he?” you asked carefully, remembering what Secondo had told you about Copia and the Countess.

Primo tilted his head and stared down at you. The resemblance was strong even under the paint; the vampires weren’t carbon copies—not in looks or personality—but they all seemed to carry themselves in the same way. Their mannerisms mirrored one another, from the way Primo looked at you now, to the flamboyant gestures of Terzo and Copia. You wondered where they all got it from, who they all got it from. If they would even tell you.

 “He didn’t have much of a choice, did he?” Primo replied with a tap on your nose, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“No, I guess he didn’t.”

“He did his best to give you a choice, piccolina,” he said with a sigh. “Please remember that in the coming weeks. Becoming a vampire is not such an easy thing. But I knew the second he called asking about that recipe that it was only a matter of time.”

“What does that mean?”

Primo shrugged. “Perhaps nothing.”

“I’m not getting any answers out of you, am I?”

He smiled. “I can see why he likes you.”

“You two talking about me?” Secondo asked as he wandered back over. He wrapped his arms around you and grinned at his brother, the paint at the corners of his mouth cracking.

“You’re so full of yourself,” you shot back.

“Act like you don’t like it,” he whispered lowly in your ear.

“Get a room, Twos,” the Countess yelled over the distant sound of sirens. “Ooh, firemen,” she said a little too excitedly, clapping her hands.

“Dolce, you just ate ten men,” Copia reminded her.

“I just like firemen,” she pouted. No one missed the pleased smile that crossed Copia’s face.

“Now who needs a room?” Secondo asked, rolling his eyes. “We should go before they get here. I’m not explaining all these fucking bodies.”

“Hey,” Mary snapped. “They started it.”

“Yeah, what the fuck happened here?” you asked.

“Long story,” Mary, Copia and the Countess said in unison.

You shrugged and turned your attention to Terzo. He’d said nothing since the two of you had arrived, which seemed exceedingly strange given how mouthy he’d been from the moment you met. You wandered over to where he sat, two hulking figures in masks watching over him—his Ghouls.

“It’s fine, boys,” he said softly as they began to growl at you. He patted the cement next to him, offering you a seat. “Ciao, bambina.”

“You ok?”

“Of course! I am always ok,” he said with a fake smile.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Very convincing.”

He looked up and gestured for the Ghouls to step away before turning to you. “I am sorry I failed you today, bambina.”

“What? You didn’t—”

“You died and I did nothing to stop it.”

“That’s not true. You knocked at least two of Lucy’s teeth out.”

He huffed out a laugh and patted your hand. “I’m afraid that was not enough.”

“Terzo, I don’t think this day turned out how any of us planned. But I’m still here and I’m ok.”

“For now,” he scoffed. “This…isn’t an easy life, bambina.”

“Well, why don’t you let me worry about it?”

“If only it worked like that.” He jumped up and walked away quickly, snapping his fingers at the Ghouls. They followed him out of the parking lot and into the night.

“Amore,” Second said softly, settling next to you. “Yes, Terzo has always been that dramatic, but he is very capable of taking care of himself.”

“But—”

“Don’t worry, tesorino. It’s over. We won. And you and I have forever between us now.”

You rested your head on his shoulder. “Are you going to be ok with that?”

“Of course, amore mio. But I’m not looking forward to finding another accountant.”

“Are you firing me?”

He hummed as he turned and caught you in a kiss. “I’d like to think it’s a promotion.”

“For your business that is currently on fire?”

He smiled. “Did you think this was my only club?”

THANK YOU AGAIN for your time and comments and likes and reblogs. I will be back and I'm bringing Terzo with me.

#my fic #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus ii fanfic #secondo x reader #secondo fanfiction #vampire secondo x reader #vampire secondo #ghost band fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #suck club forever

[dontbotherwiththepronunciation]

Triggered by a conversation between mutuals that I wasn't able to partake in because I read it when it was already over but it still left me with a feeling of wanting to talk.

Many of my recent issues with this series and some of the characters in it come from coming to terms with the fact that people like me were never the intended demographic for it and thus many of my expectations and beliefs are unrealistic. I'm very much aware that every person who ever reads a text will understand it differently based on their experiences and emotions, we can see the most clear examples of it when it comes to the eternal debates on whether Jeyne & Sansa really bullied Arya or whether Catelyn's treatment of Jon should be considered abuse, but at least in my case the projection is based more on political situations that have strongly affected me and my loved ones and that are difficult to talk about in the open without feeling like my concerns are exaggerated and are also ruining other people's fun.

This is a fun series that has given my solace written by a white usan democrat who writes orientalist tropes and gives no real personality to any of his fully-canon-not-up-to-interpretation characters of colour and uses a half assed excuse to not have any of the main characters be a not-up-to-interpretation character of colour.

An example that is lighthearted and makes me chuckle could be my perception of the Vale. To me Mya Stone wears heavy colourful ponchos while Myranda wears a sanq'apa, Domeric Bolton played not only the harp but also the charango, maté is a common drink, and at least some of Sweetrobyn's lacking health comes from soroche. None of this is contradictory to the canon but I know that if I were to meet grrm and tell him of these concepts, he would probably think I'm on crack but would smile in false sympathy while Liiiiiiindaaaaaaaaa (and some readers, fans and tumblerinas) would just straight up tell me to go read something from my shithole country instead of tarnishing the beautiful and perfect European-based world of ice and fire./sar

And I am aware that the ironborn are perceived by most and are somewhat intended to be perceived as pseudo-historic "vikings but in the late Middle Ages" but I read these books when I was 12 and still thought that vikings were just a Hollywood invention, like the orange filter they put on Latin America or white saviours.

With this long introduction here are some random headcanons regarding ironborn lore and culture that aren't contradictory to canon but would probably clash against the more common fandom-built conceptions (many of which I do not like), sometimes accompanied by explanations and reasoning, often sentimental or based on personal experiences.

Nagga, the other unnamed dragon and the geographical formation of the islands

Heavily inspired by the myth of Trentren Vilu and Caicai Vilu. In the original real life mapuche myth the two giant snakes were enemies and after Caicai Vilu (sea snake) awoke form his slumber he caused a flood to bring down mankind because he considered them ungrateful brats who didn't appreciate the gifts offered by the sea. Trentren Vilu (land snake) helped the humans escape by raising the hills and turning those who drowned into sea creatures (fish, sea mammals and the mapuche equivalent to mermaids included) and those who were about to be engulfed by the waters into sea birds. Due to the long fighting and constant floods the land developed into thousands (not an exaggeration) islands.

My ironborn version of this isn't very different from the myth narrated above with Caicai Vilu's role becoming Nagga's and Trentren Vilu's being given to another sort of dragon that was it's oponent. The major difference in my headcanons is that said opponent perished, unlike Trentren, and Nagga kept on living and causing havoc until the Grey King finally killed it off. And if I am allowed to reach out even more with all this, the mermaid that the Grey King married could have been one of Nagga's victims saved by the other dragon but, taking into account what we know from Strange Stone this would mean that the formation of the Islands and the existence of merlings and the sea dragon would precede the Drowned God. That would be interesting.

Architectonic decoration

Some of my happiest memories take place in a small and poor fisher town in my home country that was usually damp and covered in fog. The beach was not a pleasant one. A remarkable thing about it was it's architecture that wasn't very particular in it's structure but still remains striking to me. The houses near the coast were all typical colourful, wooden stilt houses, but the further you got into land the houses would change and suddenly you found yourself in small and dirty alleys and streets between concrete houses that were rather plain in shape and old but the walls were covered in sea shells, and sometimes starfish and sea urchin carcasses, that had been plastered on the concrete. When I was 12 and had just moved to another country my class was tasked with making a dissertation about what we associate with the word "home". My teacher was a xenophobe who delighted in tormenting me and she laughed at the pictures and referred to them as tacky, my fellow classmates liked emulating her. I however still find them beautiful and that entire sentiment is something I mildly associate to the iron islands in a way.

It is my home. Flawed and meagre, but mine.

I also think that since sea shells are cheap and common it would fit into their more utilitarian tendencies; giving a purpose to what little they have instead of overspending (gold price) on aesthetics. For some reason this is something I like imagining at Harlaw and Lordsport in particular. Here are pictures

Music

Feel weird about this because music in the entirety of Westeros is very generic and that makes it a little boring in my opinion. When it comes to Ironborn we are told of two reaving songs ("Steel Rain" and "The Bloody Cup") and it's mentioned quite often by ironborn characters that getting a song about them is something they should strive for. There might even be some religious reasons behind it too but that wasn't expanded on:

The Drowned God had made them to reave and rape, to carve out kingdoms and write their names in fire and blood and song. - Theon I, ACOK

Makes me wonder if Theon's "Let Abel make a song of that, we flew." could have been influenced by ironborn culture too instead of just his usual romanticism and the chivalric connotations of him "saving the girl". I haven't compared this to the other characters so I can't be sure about this but from my notes Theon seems to think quite a lot about wanting to be in/not being fit for a song.

We also have Loron Greyjoy, "the Bard", and we know very little of him except for that he used to have a gay ol' time with Desmond Mallister, but there's nothing that points to him being looked down on by the other ironborn and the nickname "the bard" feels significant but there's no info so what am I to make up with that? Well, I like to think he was a bit of a patron of the arts and maybe even a composer. The two reaving songs have no mentioned origins so maybe he was involved in their creation.

The thralls were pouring ale, and there was music, fiddles and skins and drums. - Theon II, ACOK

I like all of those instruments but grrm you are a bore. Westeros is about the size of South America and yet they have a total of nine instruments named. Loved the mention of kettledrums during the kingsmoot though.

The largest kettledrum in the world finds itself in Bali and serves religious purposes. I like to believe that perhaps the kettledrums during the kingsmoot also had some religious reasons for their use. Perhaps traditional melodies used to announce the different contenders for the seastone chair.

Drums make sense for reaving songs and truth be told I'm not sure to what he was referring with "skins" but I was surprised by the fiddles because they seemed like a wink at the just as anachronistic golden age piracy, even if fiddles have been around since the 10th century. This makes me think of more folkloric oriented music made more for dancing in taverns and harbours than for rowing.

When being deranged I became aware that percussion and string instruments can be played underwater as they don’t rely solely on air to transfer sound (they would still be very difficult to play and the sound would be weird). Dragging a bow across a fiddle would probably be easier than strumming a harp or lyre though. I don’t think the ironborn are deranged enough to try to play music under water but it makes for a fun picture to imagine them being more fond of sounds that can be transferred through it. I’m imagining them trying echolocation with dolphins.

For some reason I can’t really explain I like the idea of them playing the marimba and other percussion wood based instruments.

I like to believe that the finger dance can be somewhat compared to capoeira as in serving aesthetically pleasing and artistic purposes but also carrying a sort of danger and fighting spirit to it. It is something I can see as a pastime, acrobatic exercise and art and I like that.

Some mapiko dancers will bind sea shells in nets to their clothes and they will use them as bells and rattles when they dance. I like to think this could maybe be part of the finger dance when performed for artistic purposes, like perhaps a diplomatic visit or a national festivity, instead of just as a game.

(not ironborn lore related but as I went through my notes I realised that Theon is usually tense when thinking or witnessing happyish heroic sort of songs but he seems to be weirdly at peace/melancholic around "sad" and "soft" songs during ADWD and I find that very endearing. Go listen to Chris Garneau's between the bars and castle time you sad sulking ghost I love you I wish I could have seen you thrive but we are all doomed : ) )

Priestesses of the drowned god

I am heavily against the fandom notion that the Ironborn built a culture out of toxic masculinity that is particularly misogynistic when in canon women in the island (or at least ironborn women) have more liberties than in most of Westeros (with Dorne as an exception and maaaaaybe the North). The only female stewards we see in the series are all iron islanders and Asha being allowed to reave and raid and engage in spaces usually reserved to men isn't the exception to the rule. Theon mentions that women like her aren't uncommon in the isles, Asha is said to have resembled her mother in spirit and Hagen's beautiful red headed daughter, who is so low on the socio-economical hierarchy that she doesn't even get her own name, is not only allowed to behave similarly to Asha, but her sexual freedom is never questioned or criticised either. I honestly think that their most problematic issues come from feelings of ethnic superiority, not a personal vendetta against women.

So, I find it disappointing and lazy that we haven't gotten any female spaces in the faith of the drowned god. I remember someone mentioning on a Tumblr post that on one of the asoiaf based video games drowned priestesses were a thing. Sadly I have never played any of the video games and I can't find any further sources for this so I don't know if I should trust that. But! I like that idea. Drowned priests are restless; they have no home and are made to basically pilgrim their life away; they travel around the islands and also accompany the men on raids. I think it would be cool if the priestesses of the drowned god had a more stable role in ironborn society. During the age of heroes we had salt and rock kings and in a way I could see the drowned priestesses as the rock to the drowned priests salt but with less authority.

Maesters are still somewhat recent in the Iron Islands and I don't think that Septas would have been appreciated by most ironborn women given their teachings and expectations around gender norms so I like believing that priestesses of the drowned god could occupy that space as educators of children and healers. History and religion seemed to be tied together in ironborn culture and their religion at least passed down orally so I can imagine them acting somewhat similar to mande jèli but with more of a focus on religion and less importance on the overall politics. I can also imagine them performing less important rites, like weddings, coming of age ceremonies or maybe fertility related acts. So basically a mixture between Maester and Septa with a lesser standing to their male counterparts.

Rafts as beds

Drowned priests, who have no homes, should sleep on rafts on nights that are more or less calm because that is a magical experience that I think everyone should go through at least once in their life but it's also fitting to their entire suffering theme because you will freeze to death and get a cold.

Dhows

I learnt how to row, sail, fish and use the night sky as a map before I learned how to ride a bike and my personal nitpicking issue with the world building in asoiaf is the nautical terms used. What do you mean longships and galleys that have decks and cabins????? Even if they have two levels of rowers (and most of the described ones don't) this rarely makes sense!

And you know what? I'm not even going to take my time to give them accurate Viking-like ships. In my head, they travel on dhows. "Dhow" is a generic term to refer to certain types of sailing boats that are mostly used around the Indian Ocean and I am in love with them.

They are precious to me and they allow me more variety when imagining the different ships mentioned in relation to the ironborn characters.

Sea Bitch for example looks more like a beden to me than like a typical Viking longship

but I can still imagine smaller, simpler looking galleys when needed, like a Dhoni. They can carry quite a lot of heavy stuff so they are usually good for trading (and probably raiding) too.

If I recall correctly, the Iron fleet has been identified by the text as some hybrid between dromonds and longships and I can be content with that definition. Personally I picture them more like Byzantine dromonds with a deck, cabins and more than one set of rowers.

Colloquialisms

I have always perceived colloquialisms as a subtle type of resistance to colonial and imperial forces, so I assume that the less integrated and maybe more separatist parts of Westeros (such as the Iron Islands, Dorne and maybe The North) would probably have a wider range of colloquialism as region based expressions. This is difficult to convey in fanworks of any sort and I can't think of any time I've made it noticeable in any of my fanworks but I like thinking about it. This could include idioms related to religious or geographical lore or more ambitious terms stemming from perhaps a former language spoken in the region or words taken and adapted from places they have sailed to, like the Summer Islands.

#I think many of my issues with this fandom could have been solved if I had become an ironborn supremacist in the same spirit as the #t@rgnation/st@rk stans; #don't know how to tag this. this isn't about any character in particular. I'm just saying stuff because I no longer give one tenth of a f #speaking #asoiaf

[controversial-blorbo-bracket]

Controversial Character Tournament Round 2: Light Yagami from Death Note vs Edelgard von Hresvelg from Fire Emblem: Three Houses

(remember that these characters are fictional and your fellow tumblr users are real. please be normal in the notes, i will not hesitate to block if you harass people)

Propaganda under the cut, may contain spoilers:

Light Yagami:

LOVE: - "He does some messed up things but have you considered: fucked up protagonists rock :)" HATE: - "this man makes me sick. ive genuinely had manic episodes over hating him. i have trauma from his existence in general. not even because of the murder. because hes a sexist cheater :(" - "My cousin and I frequently debate this. I think despite his 'intentions' he's ultimately a despicable character who cares for nobody but himself. She disagrees and says that he is just trying to do the right thing and making a difference in the world (she still thinks his actions are wrong, but she doesn't think he himself is despicable)" BOTH: - "I mean cmon man"

Edelgard Von Hresvelg:

LOVE: "People either claim she's the hero or the irredeemable villain with no in between. She's also my lovely wife who has never done anything wrong in her life." "I never even finished her route and remember nothing of what happens in that game but I DO remember the absolute warzone the fandom turned into because of her. She staged a coup and overthrew the head of the government/church and I think that's pretty cool of her. "But she committed war crimes!" God forbid women do anything." "I lied in the previous question. I don't hate her or love her in fact I have never even played this game. But I keep finding people making up Discourse™ featuring wild accusations of bigotry towards both Edelgard fans and Edelgard haters so I feel that she belongs here. (Also my friend hates her. but HER friend loves Edelgard. So even in my small social circle there is a clear polarization.)" "ok I don't have any solid propaganda because my opinion of her is more positive-neutral, but. she fits the spirit of this poll. trust me." "[three houses spoilers] Yes she started a war but it was the only apparent way to break the chokehold the church had over everyone in Fodlan. Also she’s the only lord you can gay marry so I’m hopelessly biased" "every time i go into the tag its either "edelgard is perfect no notes!!" or "edelgard is literally a fascist!!!". ive never seen someone with a neutral opinion of her. i yearn for battle." "I know very little about her to be quite honest! But good god. As a fire emblem fan for the GBA and engage. I have NEVER seen such a decisive character like Edelgard. Jesus Christ. I still find stuff in those tags. What the hell!!!" "I don’t even go to Fire Emblem but even I know that Edelgard has never done anything wrong, ever, in her entire life, and that if she did any war crimes they were a SUPER effective use of girl power. source: I am a lesbian. (realtalk I genuinely love a noble-minded extremist revolutionary and think Edelgard is a great character, so it’s kind of a shame that opinion on her seems to simply split down the line of “whether the person wants to kiss Edelgard or Dimitri more.”)"

HATE: "So on the one hand, she's fully willing to kill and burn and murder her way to a "better future" at the expense of the present, but on the other hand she's pretty cool and #girlboss. She's also a canon gay romance option, but idk if that makes her more or less problematic." "I just. I understand why people like her. I really do. And I don't have anything new to say for why I dislike her. Edelgard fans and stans have heard everything. She has great points and motivation, but her methods are wrong. She hitches her ideals to the first good opportunity and never reconsiders her allegiance when things go off the rails. She hates the church for "lying to people" and proceeds to lie to her own populace herself in her own route. She gives Claude an opportunity to live because she knows he believes in her goals. But Dimitri and his Kingdom are too beholden to the church to ever be offered such mercy. She herself acknowledges that the change she wants to see is more quickly enacted through war than subtle and slow societal change. She recognizes the human toll of her actions, but she justifies it through flowery language and an insistence that the change needs to happen now or it never will. I honestly find her so interesting, and I agree with a lot of her thoughts about the need for societal change in the world of FE:3H. But people latched onto her and propped her up as someone who can do no wrong. And that just never sat right with me. I just think she’s a hypocrite who got put in front of a shiny means to her end and was immediately blind to every other opportunity around her." BOTH: - "I dont even play fire emblem but I cant escape people not shutting up about how much they love or hate her" - "You said there were no hate answers for her...and I don't really hate her so it wouldn't be right but I wanted to balance things out some. She's the perfect storm of a character who sounds right and progressive and has a route all to herself that doesn't contradict that...but once you play other routes, it becomes clear she's kind of. full of misinformation. And attacking people who don't deserve it. Also a LOT of the divisiveness I'm willing to blame on the writers rather than her, for having her both be Evil Tyrant we NEED to take down and Sad Uwu Baby who just wants to eat cake and laze around and loves You the Player SO MUCH."

#poll #4 submissions #12 submissions #round 2 #yagami light #light death note #light yagami #death note #edelgard von hresvelg #fe3h edelgard #edelgard fire emblem #fe3h #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem 3 houses

[utilitycaster]

So. I finally watched last Thursday`s episode. If youd rather just tell me to go look it up myself, I totally get it, but I dont get the Big Deal with Orym supposedly Going Dark?? Like. He is right. They ARE at war and its time that they put aside the Are the Prime Deities Good (they are, we as an audience have canonical proof of it through 2 main campaigns and Calamity) debate and get behind Ashton`s `The Ruby Vanguard is willing to kill anyone, and thats too dangerous to allow` mindset.

Hey anon!

So I can't speak for people who are saying this, since naturally I disagree, but my suspicions are that it's largely coming from people who were hoping for the campaign to more explicitly affirm their personal politics or ideals and are upset that a heroic fantasy D&D show set in a world with very different norms...continues to be set there, and the characters and stories carry out those norms. It's always been a problem, that some people do not like to acknowledge how different Exandria is from 21st century Earth not just in like, there's elves and magic, but in social mores, and this was a jarring reminder to them.

But I agree that this is Orym affirming Ashton's mindset. I also agree that while we have canonical proof from past works, it's best to craft an argument that doesn't rest of that. It does not matter that we know the prime deities' alignments or how they've acted towards past PCs or more generally whether you do or do not like the idea of a world with gods in it. You have one group who is preying on desperate people to the point that one of those people, when confronted but not injured by people who made him feel like he belonged, nearly killed one of them, and who has murdered and destroyed the minds of anyone in their way; and you have a group that is trying to stop them. Orym is just affirming that he is, absolutely part of the group trying to stop them.

Someone asked me last week what the point of the split was, and I said we couldn't really tell until it was over, but I think it served to show the human side of what had been this grand, overwhelming plan, and what the work might be, if Bells Hells can successfully stop them.

Team Wildemount did see more of the macro level - the destruction of Molaesmyr, the gods calling upon FCG and Deanna - but they also saw the survivors of Molaesmyr in Uthodurn, still morning the destruction of their home almost 300 years ago. We saw Umudara, who can't go home. We saw the infrastructure of Uthodurn break as enchantments failed. We saw clerics and followers of gods feeling terrified and lost. We saw people who were absolutely not involved in pain because of Ludinus and the Vanguard's actions.

Team Issylra, meanwhile, saw what kind of people might be drawn into the Vanguard and Ludinus's words - people dealing with oppression in the name of the gods, and people who have suffered faith-shattering tragedies. I think it's an important element of the story, since we've mostly dealt with high-level people (Otohan, Ludinus, Liliana) and only had a few tussles at the Malleus Key.

Essentially, this all served to say "gods aside, Ludinus, as head and founder of the Ruby Vanguard, is exploiting the oppressed instead of freeing them." Because do you know what would have happened had Hearthdell attacked Kiro on their own? This would have been a bloodbath, and a village would be wiped off the map, because some asshole with a magic microphone is entirely happy to use them up and discard them. What if Bor'Dor hadn't been recruited? What if he just got teleported as just a con man in the Cyrios Mountains, and he came across the party? Ludinus never actually stopped wearing that magic funnel, he just changed the methodology.

I think, similarly, the moment with the locket isn't "I shall become a killing machine." Remember how Ashton said the guy with the locket probably didn't have a family anymore? Orym is, in fact, in my opinion, looking at that, and at Bor'Dor, and saying "I'm not going to become this, despite my own losses and grief, and I'm going to stop it from happening to more people, and the path to that might be difficult and require some actions I wish I didn't have to do but which must be done." And I think Hearthdell shows that there will be work to be done if they stop Ludinus; that the next step is to make sure that worshipers of the gods truly do leave other people alone to live their lives in the places where they're genuinely overstepping and engaging in oppression.

My final thought is that there was a lot of discussion during these arcs that there be someone more unambiguously in favor of the gods, and with all of the above, I think that it worked out beautifully that there wasn't, and that we can stop focusing on the gods and start focusing on the people.

#answered #Anonymous #critical role