#Creepy Dynamics

[yanderejustforyou]

Day 9 - Sledding || Biting Wind, Cold Noses, and Laughter

Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader, Akaashi Keiji x Reader, Bokuto Koutarou x Reader

Short and sweet

The laughter echoed across the snowy hill, a joyous sound that pierced the crisp air, almost too loud, too sharp, crashing through the biting wind that howled relentlessly around you. It carried an infectious energy that was hard to ignore, inviting you to join in their merriment, yet it felt strangely out of place against the stark, white expanse that surrounded you. You could feel the chill in the air, a pervasive cold that crept into your bones and refused to let go, but it was the exhilaration and thrill of the ride that made your heart race. The sled beneath you groaned as you finally came to a halt at the bottom of the hill, the force of the descent leaving you breathless, your lungs aching from the cold air and the sharpness of the speed. Yet that wasn’t what sent a thrill of anxiety running down your spine—it was the way their laughter lingered, a hollow echo that seemed to resonate in the quiet spaces around you, chilling in a way that went beyond the icy breeze biting at your cheeks.

Kuroo was the first to reach you, his tall frame cutting a striking silhouette against the pale gray sky, which was thick with clouds threatening more snow. He moved with a fluidity that was both graceful and predatory. As he crouched beside you, his grin spread wide, flashing white against the dull backdrop of winter. He brushed snow gently from your hair, the contact sending a jolt of awareness through you. “You’re so clumsy,” he teased, his voice laced with mockery, though there was a strange undercurrent that you couldn’t shake off. Something dark and possessive lurked in his gaze. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get away from us.” His words dripped with a playful menace that made the air around you crackle with tension.

“Of course, they wouldn’t do that,” Akaashi said as he approached, moving with a quiet confidence. His steps were surprisingly silent despite the crunch of snow underfoot, and he seemed almost ethereal as he made his way toward you. His normally calm and thoughtful eyes were shadowed today, deeper and more calculating than you remembered. Kneeling down beside you, he took your gloved hands in his, his grip surprisingly firm—almost too tight—as he scrutinized you with an intensity that made your heart skitter. “You wouldn’t, right?” he asked, the weight of his words pressing heavily on your chest, as if he was waiting for an answer that would either set you free or pull you deeper into their world.

Before you could formulate a response, Bokuto’s booming laugh cut through the thick tension like a knife, as he plopped down beside you with an exuberance that was both endearing and alarming. He shook his head, sending snow flying in all directions, his messy hair looking wild and untamed. His typical cheer seemed off-kilter today, tinged with an unsettling energy that made your stomach churn. “We’re having so much fun, aren’t we?” he declared, leaning in far too close for comfort, his breath warm against the frozen air between you. “You’re not cold, are you? We’ll keep you warm,” he added, a grin that stretched wider than seemed possible lighting up his face, but there was an underlying intensity in his gaze that made your skin prickle.

The three of them crowded around you now, their combined presence overwhelming, shadows falling over you and absorbing the weak sunlight that barely broke through the cloud cover. The air felt thicker, suffocating in a way that made it hard to breathe as the laughter from the hill above faded into a distant, warped echo. The sled lay forgotten at your feet, a mere object of play in this suddenly shifting dynamic. Kuroo tilted your chin up gently yet firmly, his fingers colder than the wind against your skin, their touch sending a shiver cascading through you.

“You’re ours, you know,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, wrapping around you like an unbreakable promise. “No running. No hiding. Just us.” The finality of his words hit you like a wave, the biting wind seeming to howl in agreement, carrying their laughter far into the frozen expanse, mixing joy with something darker, something that clung to the edges of the twilight that surrounded you. In that moment, you could feel the weight of their intentions wrapping around you like the snowfall that came quietly and inexorably, thickening everything in sight, locking you in a world that felt both ecstatic and terrifying all at once.

i do request!

[wishing-well-art]

Violence duo

[greenqueenhightower]

Larys x Alicent Scene in 2x04—Analysis:

The scene opens with Alicent getting a hot stone to ease her abortion pains which were distracting enough that she forgot to hide the moon tea jar. She bids “come” to the visitor who knocks at her door. She’s suffering alone, having refused the maids and servants Larys sent her to tend to her every need. It's her attempt to loosen his grip on her.

Notice how she says “Lord Larys” and closes her eyes when she becomes aware of his presence. He has appeared at the worst possible moment.

Larys knows immediately that something is amiss for Alicent to skip the council meeting, and as per Matthew’s words, whenever something is going on, Larys seeks a way to benefit from it. So he enters the room and Alicent lies blatantly and in front of his face. He doesn’t like that. After all, they had a relationship of mutual trust. Or so he thought. Alicent now reveals that she could never trust him fully, and maybe he should have done the same. There is so much unsaid conversation happening.

Alicent is scared to finally expose herself so openly to Larys who can see right through her and her lies. Look at how Larys stares at Alicent when he says “that is a rich indulgence” referring to the moon tea. The tension is off the charts. He says “it is a sin to deny your appetites” and he means Alicent's natural sexual drives. He is basically telling her that she shouldn’t feel sorry or in need to hide the fact she is having sex; if only she were doing so more openly. Is that an invitation?

“They are what make us fully alive as mortal men.” Larys compares his foot fetish to Alicent's sexual lust. They are both appetites and he offers an excuse for both of them. Larys is already thinking about how he might use this situation to his advantage. 

Alicent is evidently afraid and disturbed. Her secret is exposed. She changes the subject to the council. She has to steady herself and grab a chair. She bends her back and looks more crippled during that scene than Larys who again towers over her. He further examines her surroundings for more information. What is going through the Queen’s mind these days? Has he completely lost his grip on her since she sent all the maids away?

“Ser Criston wins every challenge he faces there” and “you must worry for him”—he knows, he definitely knows, and tries to provoke a reaction. Her general response of only worrying for him because he is the Hand of the King, confirms it. Notice how he stands up to come closer to her and Alicent sighs and holds her forehead; she knows this interrogation is not over.

He tells her that she has not appeared herself as of late. It's him, Larys Strong, who knows the Queen so well that he can offer a comparison. Something is amiss; what has so altered her state? This time he is not fishing for Alicole confirmation, he is referring to her frame of mind. What has upset it? Her response is enlightening not because she lets him in on the toll these events have had on her, but because essentially, she tells him off. She implies that he should mind his place, and stop trying to invade her every thought, the same way he invades her space. That he should let her at least have her mind to herself. But he knows how to get her to talk, and she reveals that she started looking into the histories as a source of wisdom like Viserys did.

Notice how shocked she is when he proves that he can read her thoughts and say: “do you think this is why he changed his mind, in the end?” Damn it, damn him, how does he do it every time? He knows what she's thinking. He knows she's been musing over Viserys’ wish for Rhaenyra to be Queen.

“Do you now doubt his intentions?” Larys is a discerning creep. He manages to get what he wants out of Alicent: she responds in a way that matters so much to him and concerns how the war will be fought. Is his Queen going to chicken out now that she has discovered her misinterpretation of Viserys’ words? How is his Green side going to fare in this war? Should he be looking elsewhere, or do they still have the upper hand and go for the win? Alicent reassures him by saying that Viserys wishes have ceased to matter. They are going to pursue their goal nonetheless. And that is what Larys wants to see and hear: that they are still on the same page and she is ready and willing to play the game for herself. That they are still the cunning and scheming allies they have always been, despite Alicent's revelations.

Or, he starts to think, perhaps even more so now.

[starry-bi-sky]

more incorrect quotes for the stillborn danyal au - dpxdc

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Student: so like,, *gesturing to Plasmius* is he like,,, your dad or...?? Phantom: he would be if he wasn't such a BITCH Plasmius: excuse me Phantom: YOU HEARD ME

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Under the Bleachers: Danny and Dash smoking in solidarity Dash: Danny: Dash: do you have notes from Lancer's class today Danny: since when do I ever have notes from Lancer's class Danny: I can ask Tucker but only if you have notes from Abernathy's class Dash: deal

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Sam and Tucker: *making s'mores with Danny's lava hair* Danny, as Phantom: >:I Sam: you're just mad because you didn't think of it first Danny: yEAH

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Danny, freshly ghosted: .... Danny: well. at least i dont need to waste money on lighters anymore

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Tucker: with how long your hair gets we may just have to start calling you rapunzel Danny: don't you dare Sam: rapunzel, rapunzel, let down your lava hair Danny: NO

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Danny's hair tie breaks in the middle of a fight Danny: fuck Skulker: language child Danny, pushing lava bangs out of his face: fuck you! just for this im turning your suit into molten slag Skulker: waitholdonwecantALK--

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Danny: you know, by your logic Maddie is equally as guilty for abandoning you as Jack. She also never visited you while you were in the hospital. Vlad, had put his infatuation with Maddie aside but still kinda had feelings for her: Vlad: you're right Danny, not used to an adult agreeing with him: I-- huh, I am? Vlad: yes. If Dr. Walker had cared about me -- even if only as a friend, she would have tried to remain in contact with me. But she didn't. She is also as equally guilty for the accident that took your life too since she also failed to properly check over the portal for flaws and any improper wiring. Danny: wait- wait, i mean-- Vlad: this means only one thing Danny, bewildered: ??? Vlad, extinguishing all lingering feelings: I have to kill her too (somehow) Danny: nO.

[pidgeyato]

I also need yall to know that Tetsutetsu canonically accompanies his female classmates when they go out at night, even if they're only traveling a short distance. Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu the #1 protector of women, god fuckin bless.

[amazingdeadfish]

Silly doodle to pass the time.

[chaotic-orphan]

Defiant Leader x Confident Villain (6)

Read part one here! //Continued from here

TW: VERY INTIMATE CREEPY WHUMPER WHO DOESN’T RESPECT BOUNDARIES, WHUMPER WHO DOESN’T UNDERSTAND NO, boundary pushing whumper, close proximity whumper, whumper making whumpee uncomfortable, borderline SA? Kind of? Idk how to tag it, just kind of borderline implied douchebag but i think it can be triggering for people so beware

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Leader?” Villain asked, lunging forward and grabbing Leader’s face in their hands. “Hey, hey. Leader?”

There wasn’t anything except panic racing through their mind as Villain’s fingers trailed down to Leader’s neck, pressing in gently on his pulse. Only then did they relax, tension leaving their shoulders and calves as they pushed back on their heels and just stared at Leader.

“You scared me, you dick,” Villain muttered to nobody. Leader must have passed out from the pain. Doctor did warn them that that could happen when she was training them. Maybe it was a good thing Leader was passed out while his bones fused themselves together again.

Villain ran a hand through their hair, blowing a breath through their lips as they began to pack up their bag. They unclipped the used needle head and put it in the bag of disposables. Supervillain wouldn’t notice one more used anyways, the bag was half full.

No, their rational voice drawled, sarcasm thick. Supervillain wouldn’t notice something so minute at seeing Leader’s healed hand that he took the effort to break. He’ll never notice.

Villain ignored it as they stood, bag in hand. It would be fine. They’d burn that bridge when they came to it.

Villain cranked the metal door open and froze. Supervillain’s sharp eyes met theirs. Villain, the usually calm and cool, collected Villain froze like a child with their hand caught in the cookie jar. Their skulduggery was even childish, quickly hiding the bag behind their back as if Supervillain hadn’t just seen it in their hands.

“Villain,” Supervillain said with a winning smile. Supervillain held a hand up to the person he was talking to, muttering something Villain couldn’t hear before he started walking towards Villain. “So funny, I was just looking for you.”

“Oh, really?” Villain asked, their voice coming out higher than they would’ve liked so they cleared it and pitched it down. “Well, I was just doing my rounds, sir.”

“Were you? So vigilant. How about I inspect it? Like the old days?”

The lie died on their lips at Supervillain’s pointed look. The look that didn’t accept No for an answer. Villain swallowed and inclined their head.

“Of course, sir,” they said pushing the door to Leader’s room back open. Supervillain stepped in and told Villain to shut the door again. Villain didn’t hesitate, though their arms felt heavy as they cranked the door shut again until it sealed properly.

Villain turned to face Supervillain. Even he was dwarfed by the size of the room. It was a bunker from World War II, Supervillain told them when he first showed Villain around. It stored plane parts and guns, ammunition. It was a giant concrete void of space, that Supervillain had repurposed to be his interrogation room.

Villain was far less flashy. The more claustrophobic the better for his victims, though… Leader was able to find the flaw in that approach.

“Hmm,” Supervillain said, drawing Villain’s eyes to his face. “Would you look at that, Villain. Leader’s hand is miraculously healed.”

Villain stepped forward. It was better to admit their guilt now then draw it out and incur Supervillain’s wrath twice.

“I can explain.”

“Can you? I’d love to hear it.”

Villain swallowed and paused, searching for the words because what the fuck were they supposed to say? Villain was Supervillain’s second best interrogator, his best torturer and here they were floundering for words to defend healing Leader’s hand. Their enemy. Supervillain’s prisoner.

Supervillain tilted his head. “No? Do you want me to explain?”

“No, Supervillain… I— listen, I—”

“No, no, no, no,” Supervillain said, wagging a finger at Villain. Only gently scolding them. “I have an even better idea. How about we ask Leader what happened?”

Villain’s eyes shot to Leader, still slumped in his seat and back to Supervillain again. “He’s passed out.”

“I can rectify that,” Supervillain said sweetly. Villain shook their head, holding their hands up placatingly.

“Wait, wait, wait — Supervillain, please. I can—”

“Explain. Please,” Supervillain said, bending to pick up the hammer. His kind, pleasant smile still on his face as he swung the hammer between his fingers. “While I still have some semblance of patience.”

Villain gathered their composure, stuttering wouldn’t help them pacify Supervillain. Villain forced their body to relax before speaking. “You broke every bone in his hand,” Villain said. “The risk of infection was high and then you’d get nothing out of him.”

“And what do I want to get out of him?”

Villain shifted their stance. “He knows exactly who hired him from the commission. He knows who is gunning for you, personally. Shouldn’t we at least try to extract that information before we ki—”

Villain choked on the word. Desperate eyes realising their mistake flashed to Supervillain, searching for sympathy.

“And we can’t extract that information from someone with a broken hand, can we, Villain?” Supervillain asker, sarcasm coating every word. “You’re the expert after all. My expert.”

Supervillain walked around Leader’s chair towards Villain, hammer still in hand. Villain swallowed hard, forcing themselves to remain upright. Not to falter or show weakness. They had no reason to be afraid of Supervillain. Supervillain was their friend. Supervillain trusted them.

Now if they could just assure their heart of that fact maybe it would stop jack-rabbiting in their chest. Supervillain stopped in front of Villain, staring down at them. Villain couldn’t quite meet their gaze so instead they stared at his shoulder. Supervillain swung the hammer between their fingers, but Villain didn’t flinch. Then the metal head of the hammer was under their chin, forcing their head up to meet Supervillain’s icy eyes.

Every muscle in their thighs tensed and released, getting ready to run which was ridiculous because why would they run from Supervillain? If their body could just catch up to their brain that would help them a bunch in this moment.

“I want you to grab the medic bag and bring it back to the medbay,” Supervillain told them. The tension almost melted from their body at his words. See? There was nothing to worry about! Villain nodded, though it wasn’t very effective with the hammer under their chin.

“Of course, sir.” Villain said, moving to grab the bag. The hammer stopped them, this time lightly on their cheek, turning their attention back to Supervillain. Something else hid behind Supervillain’s eyes now, like glittering amusement.

“I’m not finished. When you return the bag, I want you to grab the other for me.”

Villain’s brows drew down over their eyes. “The other bag, sir?”

“Yes,” Supervillain said with a grin. His eyes seemed to glisten with malice, drawing Villain further and further into their crystal blue depths. “Your toolkit.”

Villain stiffened. Supervillain’s smile cut into his face.

“And bring it back here, hmm? I think you’re right, Vil. I think we need to get information from him. Leader seems like a tough nut to crack, but, well, I don’t have to tell you that. You probably know all the things that make him tick. Where to poke and prod, and slice.”

Villain’s hands started shaking at their sides, which they quickly balled, trying to hide the tremble from Supervillain. The reluctance. Fuck. Fuck!

Supervillain wanted Villain to torture Leader… that is not what he meant when he said interrogate him! Villain was just trying to come up with a way that would leave Leader still breathing.

Because you care for him, a nasty voice said in the back of Villain’s head. Even after everything, you still care for him, and Supervillain knows.

This is a test.

Villain nodded again. “I couldn’t agree more, sir. Leader would never turn on his team without incentive.”

Supervillain hummed his approval, dropping the hammer from Villain’s cheek. “My, my Villain. You’re going after the whole team now. I didn’t know you could be so vicious.”

Villain inclined their head, a coy smile on their lips that made themself sick. “Of course you did, sir. It’s one of the reasons you keep me around.”

“We’ll see, won’t we?” Supervillain’s smile was pleasant. His words held a very thinly veiled threat. We’ll see if you stay around after torturing Leader. “Don’t be long! I can’t wait to see this.”

Villain didn’t trust their voice so they nodded. It seemed satisfactory enough. Villain grabbed the bag and walked to the door, cranking it open and stepping out. They froze as the door closed behind them, for just a second. They had to do this. They had to do this. They had to torture Leader, or else they would both end up on Supervillain’s to-be-killed list.

Villain didn’t want to end up in a cell next to Leader. Not with how hard they worked to climb the ranks of Supervillain’s organisation. Not to mention some of the enemies Villain had made here who would just love to see them taken down a peg. Reduced to nothing, another prisoner for them to torture. No, Villain refused to put themself in that position. Not even Leader would get in their way of that.

They took their time bringing the bag back to the medbay, grateful that it was on the other side of the bunker, closer to the entrance. It made sense if anyone got injured in the field, but… it was also closer to Villain’s room. Or rather, their workshop, as Supervillain called it.

Villain’s footsteps seemed to echo down the halls, bouncing off the walls and back to their ears, as loud as gunshots. They shouldn’t have tried to help Leader in the first place! What kind of idiot were they? Healing a prisoner? One that Supervillain had personally seen to! They let their emotions get in the way once, they were not about to make the same mistake twice.

Villain opened the door to their workshop. It was a glorified shed of a room with all different torture devices hung perfectly on the wall. Everything was even from the hooks to the actual tools; sorted in groups that made sense to Villain, whips and blunt objects on one side, knives in a group of their own, and miscellaneous others, like tasers and pliers on the other.

Villain glared at the objects now, bending and grabbing his leather bag from under the metal table. Their mutinous brain was working against them, cataloging all the different things that would make Leader break. The knives were Villain’s favourite, but they doubted Leader would break under that kind of pain. It stung, but only for a little while. Still… It was Villain’s specialty and Supervillain would raise his brows if Villain came back without any.

Villain packed a few, and their nasty whip that left their victims screaming and sobbing in their restraints, begging for mercy.

Villain froze as a horrible thought crossed their mind. Leader would turn into one of their victims now. One of their actual victims. Villain was going to have to make Leader beg and plead and cry and scream— they screwed their eyes shut trying to scrub the image from their mind.

It would soon be undeniably in front of them as they caused the damage anyways. They just needed to retreat to that unemotional recess in their brain. Turn on survival mode, just do what they needed to do and hate themselves later for it.

It would be easy, they told themselves. Maybe if they told themselves that enough, they might actually start to believe it. Well… they could live in hope.

“Knock, knock,” Villain straightened, their back going rigid at the voice. “Hey Vil, I saw you sneak into your friend’s room earlier. Are you bringing them something to keep them entertained while they visit?”

Villain turned, not bothering to hide the look of revulsion that appeared on their face whenever they saw Rival. Rival was the definition of a piece of shit personified. He was tall, a creep that made Villain’s skin crawl, and handsome which automatically gave him a licence to be the world’s leading expert on how to not respect people’s boundaries. Rival thought everyone was in love with him, and could give a masterclass on: how to be a bastard while sucking up to your superiors.

“Yeah. Do you want to come? I can beat the shit out of you while they watch, that should keep them entertained.”

Rival smiled his horrible, handsome smile. He had to bend slightly to step through the door into Villain’s workshop. Villain glared at him as he walked over to the wall of knives and took one between his fingers.

“Oh, how I’d love to come and watch…” Rival said, shooting Villain a sideways glance. “You know how much I love to watch you work.”

Villain’s nose scrunched up in distaste. “You ratted me out to Supervillain.”

“Ratted you out? No. Never,” Rival said, turning his body to Villain’s and stepped closer. Rival pressed the flat of the blade under Villain’s chin, tilting their head up to look him in the eye. He had chocolate brown eyes that reminded Villain a little of Medic’s, but where Medic’s were cold and logical, Rival’s were a sickening kind of warm. “Supervillain just asked about your whereabouts and I told him the last place I saw you was in the medbay.”

Villain’s glare turned cutting. “Oh don’t look at me like that, Vil,” Rival said with a pout. “We’re on the same team here.”

Rival stepped impossibly closer, forcing Villain’s head up at an uncomfortable angle. “Why is it you can get along with everyone else but me, hmm?”

Villain’s arm twitched up but they stopped when they felt the blade knick their throat. Rival’s eyes got brighter as Villain felt a bead of blood surface.

“Maybe because not everyone here is a creep like you.”

Rival smirked down at Villain. “It’s just the two of us here, Vil,” Rival said with a honeyed voice, dragging the blade up, tracing the outline of Villain’s skull with the tip of the dagger. Rival’s hand replaced the blade at Villain’s throat, tightening when Villain tried to step away. “You like all the attention I give you. Admit it.”

Villain swallowed, feeling the weight of Rival’s hand like a collar as they did.

“Supervillain’s expecting me,” is all Villain replied, expression blank. The corner of Rival’s lips twitched up, but he let Villain go. Villain went back to packing their bag, as if Rival wasn’t there.

Villain was glad of the distraction, ignoring the slight tremble in their hands that usually followed an interaction with Rival. They walked over to the chemical cabinet. The drugs that drove Supervillain’s prisoners mad, that heightened all sensation and set nerves alight in agony.

Supervillain was more sadistic than Villain. He liked when people screamed and cried, and writhed in pain. Even when Villain told him it wasn’t necessary to get information. Especially traitors. He liked to sit in and watch them in their lowest moments, screaming and begging for help, for a mercy that Supervillain would never give.

Rival’s eyes never left Villain as they moved about, packing the last of the things they needed in their bag. They grabbed the handles of their bag in one hand, about to zip it up when Rival’s hand slid over Villain’s and stopped them.

“Take this one too, Vil,” Rival said, depositing the knife he used to knick Villain’s throat into the bag. Villain shivered as Rival brushed the small cut on their throat, ignoring his hungry gaze. “Trust me when I say it’s work is delightful.”

Villain didn’t say anything in return. They zipped up the bag and turned away from Rival, only focused on getting away from the monster beside them. Once they stepped out of the corridor of their workshop, Villain put their hand over their mouth and sucked in a startled breath, tears pricking the backs of their eyes. They wanted to be sick, but Supervillain…

Supervillain was… Supervillain was expecting them. They took the moment to gather themselves before straightening again and walking purposefully towards Leader’s cell.

Villain held their head high. They could compartmentalise that encounter until later. Right now they had to be Supervillain’s Villain. Supervillain’s protégé, his in house torture expert and interrogator. They had no time to be regular Villain.

Hell… Villain hadn’t seen that vulnerable side to themselves in a while. Maybe Leader did make them weak. Maybe they would have never reached their potential if they had stayed with Leader… and Medic and Rogue…

They steeled their heart once they turned down the hall of Leader’s cell. Reminiscing wouldn’t help them with what was to come. In fact, it would most likely hurt them and prevent them from doing what they had to do. What needed to be done. Their loyalty to Leader was dead and they had to prove it.

Villain wasn’t an idiot, this was a test. To see when it came down to it, who was Villain really? The pathetic nobody that Leader remembered or a valued member of Supervillain’s organisation?

Not only that, but which one served them better at this moment in time? This was the last thing that Villain wanted to do today, but whatever God that was watching them was a sadistic freak that liked to see Villain suffer. Maybe they deserved Rival’s attention, maybe it was their karma for what they were about to do.

Villain took a breath and opened the door then disappeared inside, the metal cranking closed behind them.

*~*~*~*~*

A.N — Sorry it’s short, and also a cliffhanger, it would have been too long if I continued it but next part soon!!! Thank you for reading :)

Orphanage roll-call (tag-list, lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @nameless-beanie @aarika-merrill @criohfreeze @bandnbookbag @gala1981 1 @theonewithallthefixations @libellule888 @cardboardarsonist @shywhumpauthor r r @written-by-jayy @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog @whump-is-love-whump-is-life @icarusignite @shirtzip @honeyed-euphrates @shameless-dumbass s @dutifullykrispyland @starlight-hope @thatlittlefirestarter @iskrapolumianka @withercat22 @elizaisnotokay @jumpywhumpywriter

[foursaints]

evan rosier, explaining his special interests in a flat monotone as he grotesquely dissects a flobberworm by the great lake with grim scientific fervor: (hands absolutely covered in viscera) i use the circumrota charm to unspool the guts because it makes the subject suffer less. of course, i have ways of making them suffer more,

barty crouch jr, who has not been listening to a single word and is visibly trembling from the sheer effort of not just folding evan in half and throwing those ankles over his shoulders right there: (entire inner monologue has been “blonde, blonde, blonde“ for the last several hours) mmngh yeah and then what? 🤤

[whumpitisthen]

Limbo

Previous I Masterlist I Next

CWs: dissociation/derealisation [whumpee thinking they aren't really alive], mentioned torture, mentioned character death, a candid conversation about death with Death the jolly fellow himself, angel whumpee, deity whumper, religious themes, carewhumper, the poor boy has no idea what's coming the boy is not doing so well :/ if only there was someone who cared :pensive: ( <- actively making him worse)

“Am I dead?”

The angel looks far away, grey, foggy under his skin. He perches on the bed he was provided, in the lavish guest room he was given. It's an emperor-size bed; it makes him look little with his bruised-up legs hanging off the edge.

Sitting at the long dinner table, legs propped up as he leans back in his chair, Grim hums distractedly. — “Hm?”

“Am I dead?” — Auden repeats after a swallow of consideration, this time at least managing to sound like he wasn't just talking to himself.

The Reaper’s lips curl with a slow hum. He forgets about the pen he was twirling — always playing, always busying his hands with something. A pen, a blade, someone's hair. His hand pauses only briefly, then he continues spinning it between his fingers like he never stopped. — “Mm. It feels like that, doesn’t it.”

There is the sound of thunder, far away, but close enough that Auden can hear it rumble. The sound of his Fall. It scares him so much he can barely breathe. His hands dig into the heavenly soft sheets, feeling undeserving. A moment passes.

“Mori,” — he starts quietly, voice breaking, — “they um… I did not mean to, I really didn't, but I asked them how uh, h-how they got,” — he gestures vaguely in the direction of the intimidating double doors leading into the bedroom, — “...here.”

He feels so similar to how he felt on the day Grim brought him home. Weak and hazy, no particular colour to him. Just tired. Shaken, commanding about as much presence as a ghost.

“It was really stupid, I know. It would be insensitive to ask anyone that, right? Especially so out of the blue, like I did. But I did not m-mean it um, literally. I just thought — I thought they were so nice. So kind. They, I, I did not expect anyone here to be nice. Not to me. I-It surprised me.”

They never found out what he really meant. He meant it to be a compliment. They took it as an order. — “That is what I had meant,” — he tells the Mori in his memory, a small murmur, as if they could still hear him, still trying to explain himself.

“They had gone quiet, and I um, I told them they didn't have to t-tell me anything they didn't want to. I felt horrible. But I asked them, so they answered.”

Now Auden is the one going quiet. He doesn't know how to continue, or if he even wants to. His melancholic rambling isn't even fully directed at the Reaper. Grim’s interest has been piqued, however. — “And what did they tell you?”

Auden squirms, frowning. — “Not pleasant things.”

“Is that so,” — muses the deity, expecting this to be the end of the conversation. For a minute it was, but then the angel finds it in himself to continue.

“They told me they came close to dying, many times. They told me they did die, but not literally — that confused me a little, but I’m, uh, I think I am starting to get it.” — Stealing a glance at the Reaper, he sees a bit of humour glint in his vermilion eyes. He must know the story as well as Mori, though, unlike them, he clearly finds the tale a lot more amusing. — “They said they barely remembered who they were before… before you um, saved them.”

The way he is saying all this makes it seem like he has some sort of conundrum he must solve. Like every bit of information Mori had relayed to him is a puzzle piece. However, while it is fun hearing about how Mori remembers their meeting, Grim does not enjoy long roundabout tangents that go on forever. Setting aside the pen, he stretches, swinging those heavy boots off the table, and fixes Auden with a questioning look. — “This is a lovely retelling darling, but is there somewhere you are going with this? Or did you just feel like sharing with me something I already know?”

The thunderstorm flies ever closer. Static ruffles the feathers on Auden's wings. His shoulders hitch higher, hiding him.

“You saved Mori…”

“Mhm.”

“And you saved me, from the, the dragon lady.”

Grim laughs. — “I did.”

“S-So, since Mori was saved by you when they were dying, and I was saved when I was near death, and we both ended up here, here w-with, well, with you…” — he trails off, hesitant to finish his train of thought. It's like he can't even bring himself to say it.

Finally, Grim's expectant gaze forces the words to tumble out of his mouth anyway.

“I was wondering if maybe… I did die.”

The silence is so loud Auden doesn't even dare to look up, afraid that all he would find is a pitying, mocking grin. His guess at the Reaper's expression is not far off.

“Are you asking me?” — Grim asks belatedly. The fanged smile is clear enough in his voice.

“...Nothing really felt real since then,” — Auden finishes vaguely, weakly, eyes stuck to his own shaky hands clasped around each other in his lap. He feels silly, now. Saying it all aloud made it sound like it's either the most obvious or the most stupid assumption in the world. He can't tell which one it is from the Reaper's mood, but shame sears his cheeks nevertheless.

It takes another moment of cruel silence before he is granted a curious reply; — “Where do you suppose you are right now?”

Auden curls up a little more. — “Somewhere between alive and dead.”

Oh, the poor thing is lost, in more ways than just one.

Grim thinks for a minute, leaning his temple onto his fist. The angel's reality has been all but turned upside down, and now his mind is fracturing. Perhaps the shards could be built into something vastly different. His Lord does find moulding minds especially enjoyable, though such a process can be unfathomably delicate. Still, for now, the safest way forward may just be care and patience. The angel is confused enough as it is, and while hilarious, he doesn't want his lamb losing all touch with reality before meeting his new master. He will have a difficult enough time keeping track of what is real under his care anyway.

“Where do angels go when they die?” — he inquires instead, half interested in Auden's answer himself.

“They don't…”

Grim rolls his eyes. Of course. — “Where do Fallen go?”

“To Hell,” — Auden answers promptly, but then thinks further, and finds the answer insufficient. He doesn't really know what happens to Fallen Angels besides ‘eternal damnation’, since that is just a sentence, not reality. He just never thought to think further than that. Because Fallen can die. They do die, swiftly, once they reach here, once demons find them and tear them apart. — “But, but when they die… I am not sure.”

“Would you like to know?” — the Reaper asks with an easy smile.

Auden lifts his head, a little surprised to be offered to be let in on such secrets of life and death. Asking questions rarely lead to straight answers back up in his Heaven. Most of the time, he was met with disdainful expressions and waved off, told that these kinds of matters should not interest him, or, more humiliatingly, that he should already know the answer. Embarrassed, he learned not to ask questions, and only now is he starting to realise how much of his present knowledge is made up of his own assumptions.

To think he would be learning of death from Death himself — and for his silly question to be met with an unexpectedly straightforward desire to answer; no mocking, nor judgement, nor annoyance…

A small glimmer returns to his eyes as he looks to the deity intently. — “Yes please,” — he whispers, amazed, a little reverent.

The Reaper lifts a claw and beckons Auden over. The angel slides off the mattress and begins walking over obediently, only to stop in his tracks all of a sudden, hesitating.

“W-Wait, no, no I don't,” — he stutters, waving his hands out in front of him, seemingly swiftly having changed his mind. — “You don't have to, to show — I'll, I'm sorry…”

Grim is confused for a moment, not understanding the sudden reluctance, his outstretched hand sinking ever so slightly. Then, he chuckles, light as a cloud. He waves his hand dismissively. — “Oh, no, not like that. That did sound somewhat threatening, I will admit. No need to fear; you are a smart boy, you do not need such demonstration.”

Being beckoned to come closer by the Reaper after inquiring about what happens to Fallen when they die — Grim can't exactly fault the angel for hesitating. Nevertheless, with a small bit more encouragement, the nervous dove sulks up to him cautiously in the end, keeping his hands close in front of him.

“Choose one,” — the Reaper says, motioning to the jade porcelain vase filled to the brim with fresh roses set in the middle of the table. Auden saw so many bouquets arranged in large pots lining the hall as he was looking for a way out. He wonders just how much work it takes to keep every one of them filled and replenished in such a massive mansion.

Once he has made his choice — sliding free the flower that least upsets the balance of the rest as he takes it out — he looks to the Reaper. The Reaper picks one for himself and lifts it to his nose.

“When angels die, their souls float towards Heaven.” — He flips the rose downwards, letting it flop on the table. — “When demons die, their souls remain stuck here. And when Fallen die — ”

The radiant red petals are suddenly wilting, growing limp and dark, then dry and ugly in the Reaper's hand. Auden watches the healthy, beautiful flower rot, and then finally completely erode into black ashes, floating in the air like smoke after a wildfire, leaving nothing behind. Some sort of twisted awe leaves his mouth open and raises the hairs on the back of his neck in seeing the effects of Death's touch. Obliteration, destruction, extinction — with just a single touch…

He held that same hand from Miss Thu’lin’s palace all the way here.

“When Fallen die,” — Grim repeats as he rubs the pads of his fingers together to rid them of the flower's remains, — “their souls have nowhere left to go, so they disperse, just like that. Like a warm breath on a cold winter night.”

Auden clutches his own rose close to his chest, far, far from those deadly talons of shadow. — “Do they just… cease to exist? Permanently?”

The angel's wide eyes bring fondness to the Reaper's smile. He asks, instead of answering; — “do you think you exist?”

“...I don't know,” — Auden admits, a hushed whisper.

The fondness remains as he puts his hand out, scaring a flinch out of the angel. Auden goes to carefully place his rose into Death's hand, but he takes hold of Auden's wrist before he could, plucking it from him and returning it to the vase. He holds his hand gently, but firmly, feeling resistance. It's hard to tell the difference between his silver jewellery and icy skin.

“You are alive, my dear,” — assures Grim, making sure Auden hears him, looking directly into his eyes, — “you are here with me, and that should be all the evidence you need that you still exist as, if you didn't, I could never find you again.”

The young angel's lips quiver, his eyes growing misty, but he listens, and tries in earnest to believe those words. His eyes flicker down as the Reaper's thumb runs across the back of his hand. Back and forth, slow and gentle. Auden's face never crumbles fully, his tears silent as they flow.

Death's frigid kiss presses onto his knuckles like a curse, and the angel forgets to pull away.

<3

Masterlist | Ko-fi

Taglist: @whumpsday @whump-me-all-night-long @whumpifi @sordayciega @a-miscellaneous-number-of-rats

Taglist (tagged in everything I write): @morning-star-whump @whumprince @a-living-canvas

[sea-lanterns]

POV: The Empress goes to bed and the courtesans won’t leave her alone:

[sesamestreep]

“requiem for methuselah” crazy ass episode for many reasons. Kirk is being fully insane, like I don’t actually think, even controlling for how quickly and easily and readily he seems to fall in love with anybody at the slightest encouragement, that he’d go that bonkers for that android woman he just met while everyone on the ship was this close to dying, but that’s neither here nor there, because in the background you’ve got an equally but much more subtly insane episode for Spock, who extremely uncharacteristically admits to experiencing an emotion (or nearly experiencing, whatever) and that emotion is ENVY of all things. And then spends the rest of the episode warning Kirk away from this new love interest (something that doesn’t usually happen, even when Kirk has very inadvisable love interests) and is, in the end, the person who accurately identifies that Rayna’s competing love for Kirk and Flint is ultimately what overwhelms and destroys her with the most killer line in maybe history???

And then to wrap it up we get an equally uncharacteristic sort of denouement scene (TOS loooves to cut an episode off right after the actual climax, leaving little time for falling action or character reflection, or to stick a sitcom-y button on the end where the gang all smiles and laughs at their misadventures and everything resets to zero, which is not a criticism, it’s just the style of that era of tv, honestly) where Kirk is literally miserable over Rayna’s death (again, kind of unusual for a lot of his love interests, he tends to be able to move on pretty quickly) and Spock goes to see him and he falls asleep right in front of Spock (also odd) and then when Bones comes in to give the final word on Flint, Spock waves him off from waking the Captain (tender) and Bones gives him that awful speech about how it’s sadder that Spock can’t even imagine the love Kirk felt for this random android woman than it is that Kirk lost her in the first place (debatable but also rude) and how his great tragedy is that he can’t love at all like they can and how all he wishes is that Kirk could forget about all of this and move on. AND THEN, to have Bones leave and Spock go over to Kirk and very gently, tenderly, reluctantly touch him and put his hand to his forehead and tell him to forget and HAVE THAT BE THE END OF THE EPISODE??? What am I supposed to do with that??

[mummer]

the thing that makes amy Work as a character to me is that her story is really absurdly horrific from the outset. the doctor makes one mistake completely unthinking and suddenly this little girl’s entire life is defined and lashed to him. it sort of justifies the turn into “doctor as trickster god” that eleven gets because he really does have that much power over people right. And it’s not his fault and he feels guilty but he’s trapped this woman in his orbit and she gets her memories zapped 600 billion times has schrodingers cat parents husband erased from existence gets turned into a flesh monster forced to give birth gets her baby stolen grows up in a haunted house with an evil alien lives a bunch of alternate parallel lives that never happened it’s so uncanny and wretched and strange and is just sort of left to sit it’s not addressed And she loves him fixates on him lives for him resurrects him. he sort of created her right and she created him. he STOLE her CHILDHOOD!!!!!! he stole this girl without even thinking about it. you can see it on his face sometimes when he talks to her but only sometimes.

[reorenka]

WE NEED TO STOP CHARACTER AI

I was exaggerating, I had the great idea of ​​putting several creepypasta AIs in a group and it was funny, until Jeff and Shaki interacted, from there the roleplay was just pure tension 🫦🫦🫦

I needed to draw them this way, I was never a big fan of this ship but life is giving me signs that I should start to appreciate it 😭 short bf and tall gf prototype? 🫦🫦 I mean, she's 6'9'' and he's 6'0''. (In the drawing she is literally lifting him up) I promise to draw more things from the roleplay, but for now those two.

[atopvisenyashill]

i’m seeing some discussion of the daemon / alyssa parent child thing invoking your interpretation of the fucked up saera / old man jae dynamic, but also of the alysanne / baelon dynamic, which i had never thought very deeply about. do you have any thoughts? really appreciate how you recontextualized jaehaerys btw, it’s well thought out and compelling and really plausible to me

It's definitely one I find fascinating and interesting, if kind of...opaque I suppose. I think Alysanne is very much projecting onto Baelon and Alyssa, in that she sees herself and her relationship with Jaehaerys in them, but like, she's also purposefully making their relationship into an echo of hers with Jaehaerys.

I think the fact that Alyssa is technically the second daughter is what really helps Alysanne project onto them - Aemon was meant for Daenerys, so when Alysanne sees Alyssa displaying very typical childlike behavior where she wants to play with her brother who is near in age to her, she decides this must mean they are in love the way she was "in love" with Jaehaerys, younger son. I think this is also why she gets so weird about Viserra attempting to seduce Baelon...for her it's almost like someone attempting to seduce Jaehaerys away from her. I think it almost ties back to her conflict with Rhaena and the way it never resolved. Rhaena and her have that argument about how Alysanne stole her crown - and Rhaena isn't wrong because there's no reason Jaehaerys shouldn't have married Rhaena or Aerea if he was so dead set on incest marrying, but he chose Alysanne, the "ugly" sister, just like Baelon "chose" Alyssa, the "uglier" sister...and then Rhaena and Alysanne never make up. Rhaena blames Alysanne for Aerea's death. Rhaena blames Alysanne for her unhappiness. Rhaena is not allowed to truly own Dragonstone. Rhaena retreats to Harrenhal and seems to completely ignore her family for the rest of her life. I think Viserra (and Saera) resemble Rhaena in look, while Alyssa obviously favors her mother, and Baelon likely favors Jaehaerys. So for Alysanne it's like,,, this is how it was meant to be. The "pretty" sister needs to get over herself, it's not the ugly one's fault that the Handsome King chose her, it was love!

For Alysanne, it has to be love! It can't be grooming, it can't be lust, it can't be because anyone wanted the throne. Love absolves her of every bad thing she might have done to make Rhaena's life worse. Baelon is not allowed to have loved another, to have lusted after another, but Alyssa. She has to be his true love, to prove that Alysanne is Jaehaerys' true love, and Alysanne has no responsibility for the way Rhaena's life exploded. This is why I think it makes sense that Baelon would have a bastard he refuses to claim like Ulf - he can't let his mother know that he still feels desire, or even wants companionship, it would break her heart. He has to be a grieving widow forever. I genuinely don't even buy that he wasn't interested in Viserra. I think he rejected her because he knows Alysanne had a plan for her, knows Alysanne would never approve of him remarrying, and doesn't want to let her down.

I wish desperately that we had a glimpse into whether this dynamic changed after he was named heir. As his mother's health is declining, does Baelon reach for her? The mother who resembles his long dead wife? Or does Alysanne perhaps associate him so much with Jaehaerys and with her own projections that she rejects him? After her marital rape, after everything she's worked for regarding Rhaenys inheriting coming crashing down, after Aemon's death, after Baelon doesn't attempt to give the crown to Rhaenys in any way...does Baelon become Jaehaerys in her mind as well? The son she worked so hard to turn into her Perfect White Knight is just like every other man. How can she look him in the eyes again? I've always felt that she cuts him off. Him, Viserys, Daemon, Aemma, I think she writes them all off in her mind and I think she never makes up with any of them. There's no argument, it's just a sudden wall she puts up between them. Baelon doesn't know how to bring it down because he's always taken his cues from her, so he doesn't try. Viserys wants it taken down but every time he tries it makes things worse. Daemon is too young to care, and then too angry to bother. She dies only on speaking terms with Rhaenys and Maegelle and Jocelyn, because she can't stand it, can't live with the fact that maybe these lofty ideals she'd been working towards were an illusion. She's only ever been drawing a charcoal window on the wall of her prison instead of breaking down the walls to be free.

[the-awful-falafel]

tfw it's going to be even harder for me to write/draw spooky fake peppino moments after this update comedically defanged him for a scene, even though:

1) it's a movie Noise wrote / directed / paid off the bosses for, and FP being scared off by yelling could easily be tied to that context (either because he was indeed treating it like a game and therefore was less persistent / more easily startled, or because he was asked to be more of a wimp, or both)

2) it's implied to take place a decent while postgame since Pizzahead and Vigilante are in the same room together and Vigi isn't trying to apprehend him like the credits implied he was going to do, so FP could have just mellowed out more in that time and/or Noise also could have gotten used to him. like FP seems pretty relaxed and just a little confused in the ending scene too, he's chill

there's a lot of ways you can interpret this shitposty joke moment so I'm a little bothered the immediate go-to for most of the fanbase is "fake peppino is a sweet baby who was never creepy". I personally read it as FP nervously retreating like "why are you yelling at me I did as you asked :/"

[begonthounegativevibes]

In honor of the long walk movie coming out THIS YEAR here's my honary stebbins fan casting Aka Oren from parks & rec