#He has the advantage of being full of fucking hate and malice already and having constant file access

[kakusu-shipping]

Aah I really like your yandere headcanons omg do you think if they fell for the same challenger they'd try to compete or maybe even work together to ensnare them if that makes sense?

This is such a good ask and I do not have one exact answer for it because like.

One half of my brain is OBSESSED with the Inscryption Divorced Polycule, and as a poly person, wants to run with the idea of the four scrybes obsessed with in love with the same person, and that one person slowly pulling them back together by loving them all and having them all love them back. Mutual love, building, as if the player is like the central island in act 2.

At the same time, each of the Scrybes, as far as loving you goes, are desperate to gain and keep your attention on them for as long as possible. Keep you close, keep you coming back, have the most enriching game so you keep playing with them instead of the other scrybes.

And on top of that, I can't see them like. Fighting.

Okay P03 would, if we want to include him, but this ask is from before I figured out what kind of Yandere he is, and also he'd just win because. Again I can't see them fighting?

If Leshy isn't good enough to warrant all of your attention, that's just it. He's just not good enough. He's putting his everything into it, and if that just wasn't enough, he's not going to force you to like him over the others. You deserve the best, and if he's not it after giving his EVERYTHING to you, then that's just how it is.

Magnificus is already too prideful to admit he even loves you in the first place, he's not going to argue a point he doesn't believe in. He doesn't WANT to be romantically involved. So long as he can be near you, see you, walk just a few steps behind you, he will be fine. He may give the other scrybes and NPCs rather intense stares while you're speaking to them, but he'd never do anything actively.

Grimora's the most likely to put forth an effort to detour you from the other's, but not like. Actively. If you were showing an interest in someone else, she'll invite them over, and she'll smile and do her usual little pranks of leaving a tack in their chair or putting hot sauce in their tea. She thinks it's funny, you're use to this behavior, but to the other scrybes it's clearly an act of aggression. A pleasant smile to you, a mark of a spider protecting her territory to others. But again, if at the end of the day you leave for someone else, she'll just remind you to be home before dark and send you on your way.

Does any of this make sense? No clue. I would LOVE to do more Poly stuff, but I couldn't tackle it with Yandere also in the mix, it gets muddy.

[movedtodykedvonte]

Thoughts on Sammy’s Prophethood

Fandom treats Sammy like some fanatical weirdo like every other word was Bendy’s name. As funny as that interpretation is, like there is a reason Sammy lasted so long and had all those lost ones under his control.

I get the ideas that he could easily be a deranged cult leader that killed anyone who crossed him but you gotta remember he’s way out numbered by the lost ones and searchers. Sammy doesn’t seem manipulative in his preachings and would most likely do what he does whether they followed him or not. So it’s my understanding that they are willingly at his side. Allison directly states that Sammy keeps them tamed, meaning that before the whole cult thing they may have been feral or at least way more hostile than simply idly crying or moping about. Sammy is the prophet, their prophet and that makes Sammy a powerful entity when everyone but like 4 people are on his side and follow his every word. (Even the butcher gang attack Henry during the chapter 5 village battle) No one fucks with Sammy cause he’s both unhinged as fuck and he has like an army of a devoted congregation ready to swing on you the moment they feel you threaten them or him. Say what you will but I would not mess with him if I was aware of this like everyone down there already is. Of course, Malice still attacks him in BATDS cause he’s on her terf and she has the advantages of her machines and weapons and a gun.

I also feel like people get the type of prophet he is wrong, (even he does) which enforces the idea he gets no respect or has any leeway in the studio.

A prophet by definition speaks or conveys a message for a divine being, Sammy believing that Bendy is his divinity. We know this is not true by the way Bendy treats him, but if you have read DCTL, you know that the ink in general speaks to him and only him this way. No other character describes the ink with such adoration as Sammy does when infected by it; Malice hates it, Allison describes it as a nothingness before something and everyone else actively avoids touching it. This implies the ink chose him and the ink itself is his divine entity… that he rejected. Sammy is a prophet, but has been following the wrong denomination essentially. so he’s a heretic but that’s a whole other can of worms. Of course, he can’t appease someone he was never meant to serve! Sammy is meant to be a seer but acts as a servant. The ink in the book wants him to sacrifice, to spread itself and it’s influence to as many “non-believers” as possible. Sammy in game disregards it, instead honoring one of its machinations, like a golden calf situation read the Bible to get this reference kids.

Even if he is wrong, the ink still chose him and a lot of the ink creatures know not to mess with things the demon or the ink favors. This kinda gets into headcanon and interpretation territory but it’s heavily implied Bendy doesn’t directly control the ink. He can pass through it and is more resistant than it but he again is something born of it. He is a separate being at this point, somehow shambling about with out a soul despite the ink that is full of them. The demon scares everyone cause it can send you back, not because it has any real influences or power over anything down there. It just acts like it does. If this is the case, it makes sense that the ink still influences and controls some of the discretion of its followers. If it really did choose Sammy, and still believes that he can give it what it wants, than whose to say it doesn’t influence the others to follow its prophet? Sammy is devote to his cause, loyal and literally the only protector and being down their that treats them with a twinge of humanity and respect. Mix that with the ink telling you he is a seer than you get people who would follow whatever inane bullshit he spouts.

The other characters are locked into areas or have few allies. Malice stays hidden in heavenly toys, not even waking her own hall due to the threats. Tom Boris and Allison make camps and avoid all other ink creatures. The only ones that seem to travel around willingly are the searchers, butcher gang, lost ones and Sammy. You can call him stupid for it but I see it more as he knows he doesn’t have to worry about much else attack him… disregarding his lord and a few or the more feral butcher gang.

I just think too many people play up the groveling part of Sammy’s devotion when you have to remember how much he has control of down in the ink. That his focus was appeasing Bendy and helping his flock survive. He’s not a god nor invulnerable (Tom Boris made us very aware of that) but I do remember Joey saying he can presented as such over the domain he oversees.

Just like the music department, his congregation is his domain and it benefits him greatly that it is so scattered.

[dauntless-gothamite]

Prove Them Wrong [3/?]

Fandom: Divergent Pairing: Eric Coulter x Fem! Reader Summary: Y/N is a Dauntless transfer from Erudite, and she has a drive, an ambition that sets her apart--it always has, even back in Erudite. She brings her perseverance (and need to prove others wrong) to Dauntless when she transfers, and she uses her mind to make her way through the initiation process. Along the way, she makes friends and enemies, and she finds herself comfortable around the man most people in Dauntless avoid at all costs: Eric Coulter. A/N: I like what I did with the end of this one, putting a (hopefully) comedic/unique twist on a trope and adding something original :) feedback is very much appreciated, happy reading

When you walked into the training room the next morning, everyone avoided looking at your face, specifically, your neck. Instead, people looked at the ground. You knew you had bruises around your neck from where Peter had grabbed you, but you hadn’t expected a group of dauntless to be so touchy about it; bruises were common here. 

“Alright, listen up!” Four yelled. “We are doing some target practice today, so line up and get throwing,” he said, pointing to the line of targets against the wall. At least you weren’t fighting today; your body could use a break. That fight with Peter really had worn you out, and since you guys had thrown knives a couple times already, you were starting to get familiar with the technique. 

You walked up to a free target and looked over the knives positioned on the table before you, holding one and turning it over in your hand. “Well? Are you going to throw that knife or just stare at it all day?” the gruff, aggressive voice of Eric asked. You turned to look at him, and a part of you was pleased to notice that he was looking you in the face, not avoiding your eyes and neck like everyone else around here. 

One side of your mouth quirked up in the beginning of a smile before you replied, “I’m about to throw it.”

“Then get on with it!” Without hesitation, you turned your body to the target, and you positioned your feet similar to how you would if you were throwing punches instead of knives. Gripping the handle, you drew the knife back, aimed, and twisted forward, releasing the knife as you traced an invisible arc over your head. The knife stuck to the target with a thud, but it was a little lower than you’d hoped it would be. Eric nodded and said “Get that figured out before I get back, and maybe I won’t yell at you,” before walking away to stand behind some other initiate, most likely to stress them out so much that they’d miss the target completely. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t yell at me very much, you thought to yourself. Because I don’t break under the pressure of his judgemental stare. After taking many math tests with teachers walking around the room, looking over each student’s shoulder as they frantically scribbled down answers, you were used to being watched and assessed. 

Picking up the next knife, you lined yourself up just like you did before and repeated the motion, letting go of the knife a bit earlier this time. The knife landed at the height you wanted it to, but it was a little far to the side. Grabbing for the next knife, you made sure that this time you didn’t twist as much, but you did everything the same way you did before, and the third knife landed just a few millimeters from where you’d aimed, but you were satisfied. Smirking to yourself, you looked to either side before walking forward cautiously to grab the knives from the target. As you grabbed the first knife’s handle and pulled it out of the target, you heard the sound of a knife flying through the air near your head, and in an instant, said knife embedded itself just a centimeter above your head in the target. 

“What the fuck!” you yelled. Whipping around to glare at whichever person’s knife had gone so far off course, you saw Eric standing where you had been standing to throw the knives with a smirk on his face. 

“Just testing you,” he said nonchalantly. You scowled in response, eyeing the knife he still held in his hands. You locked eyes with him, and his smirk grew wider as you backed up against the target, knowing what would come next, right before Eric’s second knife landed between your arm and your torso. You turned back around to grab your knives, and Eric said “Grab mine too, initiate.” While you were turned around, you rolled your eyes, but you did retrieve his knives for him, passing them back to him curtly. He grabbed them out of your hands, fingers brushing ever so slightly in the process, before turning around to torment someone else. 

--

At dinner, just as you were about to take a bite of your hamburger, Will asked, “How did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Get Eric not to hate you!”

“He doesn’t like me,” you scoffed.

“At the very least, he doesn’t yell at you every five minutes,” Tris butted in, to which Will and Christina nodded fervently. 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Luck, I guess?”

“No way, luck could not possibly get that man to be even a little bit nice to anybody,” Christina countered. 

“Ok, maybe not, but like I said, I don’t know! Maybe it’s because I don’t crack under pressure or something.”

“Something like that,” Will conceded with a sigh before turning on Tris. “Your turn; what’s going on with you and Four?”

“Nothing!” Tris replied. 

“Come on, don’t lie to us,” Christina said. You badly wanted to say something to try and get more information out of Tris, but you refrained just in case they decided to turn back on you and start asking about Eric again. 

“I don’t know,” Tris said. “He’s cute, though,” she admitted with flushed cheeks. 

The banter between you all went on like that for a little while as everyone ate their dinner, until Will got up and said, “I’ll see you guys back at the dorm; I want to get there early and hit the showers while everyone is still at dinner. Get a little privacy for once,” and stood up with a smile. 

As soon as Will was out of earshot, you leaned across the table to Christina and said “So, when are you finally going to tell Will you like him?” you smirked. 

“What? No,” Christina said.

“Come on, Tris, back me up here,” you said.

“She has a point,” Tris said with a nod. 

“You guys are unbelievable!” Christina said and stood up, prompting you and Tris to do the same, and then you all headed out of the dining area together to stroll through dauntless for a little while before going back to the dorm so as to give Will some privacy. 

“You know, I think I’m going to try and shower early as well,” Tris said as the three of you walked. “But don’t worry, Christina, I won’t look at Will,” she winked and laughed before peeling off towards the dorm.

“Hey!” Christina yelled after her as you stood next to her, doubled over in laughter.��

“Will, can you calculate the speed at which my fist hits the punching bag? Can you--” you teased Christina.

“Stop it!” she shrieked, her blush deepening.

“Just admit that you like him, it should be easy for an ex-Candor!”

“Fuck off!” she said, but there was no malice in her tone. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, and that was the last straw before Christina gave you a hard shove, making you stumble as you laughed at her expense. Then your body collided with something solid. You heard whomever you had just crashed into growl in frustration as you stared at their black boots. Eric’s black boots. Your laughter died in your throat as you stood, taking note of the numerous pages and folders that were undoubtedly full of important files in them scattered across the floor. You made eye contact with Christina’s, who at least had the decency to look guilty as she retreated down the hallway, as Eric said “Well, initiate. I don’t know what you were doing, nor do I care, but the rest of your evening will be spent reorganizing the files you just scattered everywhere.” 

You nodded as you made eye contact with him before bending over to pick up the pages on the floor. Once you had picked everything up, Eric started walking and you followed up three flights of stairs and down a hallway, eventually coming to a stop outside a door which he unlocked. You followed him inside as he turned on the lights, and looking around, you knew this was his office. “You will sort these pages by category and date, then leave them on my desk when you’re finished, understood?”

“Actually, I have a question,” you asked as an idea occurred to you. He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“What?”

“Wouldn’t something physical be a better punishment? Just because I happen to be good at sorting, this feels like it’s--”

“No,” Eric said. “I know what you’re doing. Trying to get an advantage by extra training and building it into something you already have to do. I’m not an idiot, Y/N.”

Nervous to push him any further, you decided to throw one more thing out there, and if he didn’t take it well you would shut it and sort the files. “Well, of course not, you are from Erudite originally, so--”

“Who told you that,” Eric asked, annoyed. You weren’t sure, but you thought you saw a glimpse of something else in his eyes for a moment. 

“No one, it’s just that Ms. McKimmerer talked about you all the time.”

“That old math teacher? He asked incredulously”

“Yeah, she always said ‘Eric Coulter memorized more digits of pi than any other student in his year, try to be more like him’ and ‘It’s a shame he left Erudite’ when she taught us about pi.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Eric scoffed. “And don’t mention that to anyone, initiate!”

“I won’t!” you said, slightly amused. After a brief pause, you said,  “But you should know, there is even a picture of you from that year on her desk, with your hair combed back and a blue collared shirt.”

Eric paused for a moment, and you did your best not to break, but eventually you howled in laughter; his wide-eyed reaction was just too funny.

Scowl in place, Eric schooled his face into a calm, if annoyed mask, and said “get to work on those files. I will check back in a bit to see if you’re done sorting them.” Then, he walked out and shut the door behind him. Chuckling to yourself, you got to work on the large stack of paper before you.

--

The door opened loudly and you woke up to the sound of Eric Coulter clearing his throat. “Did you finish sorting the files before falling asleep at my desk, initiate?” 

Sitting up, slightly embarrassed, you nodded. “Good. Now get out of my office and go eat dinner.”

You stood from the desk, hesitating for a minute. “I actually wanted to ask you something,” you said, turning to face Eric. 

“Yes?”

“Well, I noticed you have a few books in here, and I was wondering if I could borrow Mental Conditioning: Getting Your Mind and Body On the Same Page. I wasn’t looking through your stuff, it’s just on the self over there--”

“I know where my own damn book is,” he said, walking over to it and grabbing the book off the shelf. “Here,” he said, handing it to you. “Return it when you're done, and it better be in the same condition it is now when I get it back, understood?”

“Yes, thank you!” you smiled at him, pleasantly surprised that he was letting you borrow the book.

--

That night, when you got back to the dorm room, you read a few pages of Eric’s book before going to bed. It was a little hard to focus with all the noise--you’d find a better spot to read tomorrow--but you were happy nonetheless; while dauntless was great, you had missed all the books that were available to you at Erudite. As your eyes grew tired, you reached into your bag under your bed, which held your few belongings--every initiate got one--and pulled out a napkin you had been doodling some tattoo ideas on during lunch, placed it between the pages to act as a bookmark, and put the book away in the bag. You closed your eyes, surrounded by your friends, mind calm from reading, and for a moment, despite the lingering pain around your neck, you were completely at peace as you drifted off to sleep. 

Tag List: @shykoolaid, @taina-eny​, @parabatai-winchester​, @marvel-ousnesss​

[sachigram]

I know Halloween has long passed (*sob*) but what do you think of Izaya as a Witch? 🤔 (maybe with a side order of Shizuo being his beastly but also angry familiar? 😂😂😂)

((Okay so I went rogue on this one. It’s funny because @lateniteslacker and I have an rp going where Izaya is a witch right now so I wanted this one to be darker and wanted Shizuo to be a beast for real.))

The thing about humans is, they really do have more in common with wild animals than they'd like to believe. Izaya has always studied human behavior extensively, obsessively, and he's always excited when a completely civilized person gives into their instincts, usually in a moment of complete desperation. The four f's really are a universal truth, and while Izaya is captivated by humanity as a whole, he can't deny he feels a certain...thrill in knowing society could topple at any moment, with only the slightest push, and then people would show their true colors and what lengths they would go to in order to survive.

Thinking this over, Izaya lifts his eyes to the beast pacing around his apartment. It's late at night, obscenely early morning, actually, but neither of the occupants in the apartment have slept yet. It's close to sunrise, Izaya realizes, and Shizuo has still yet to kill him.

“You're letting me live again? How generous of you, Shizu-chan,” Izaya says, and when Shizuo growls at him in answer, Izaya's lips curl into a small smile. Shizuo can't reply at length, of course. No werewolf in existence can speak when they're transformed.

Shizuo's body could be considered grotesque, but Izaya's never been squeamish, and he doesn't mind watching the huge monster walk in circles, his features lit only by the city lights streaming into the windows. His skin is dark and leathery, only some of it covered in thick, wiry fur. Shizuo's mouth is gaping and filled with sharp, jagged teeth, so many that it seems to be hard for Shizuo properly close it, thus making him leave drops of saliva in his wake. His eyes are the same color as normal, so dark they're practically a mirror for anyone who looks into them, but they're filled with bloodlust and hunger, instincts Shizuo would be acting on if not for Izaya's potion keeping him in his own mind.

“You could sleep, you know,” Izaya continues, watching with glee as Shizuo's ears perk towards Izaya, hearing him whether Shizuo wants to or not. “I'm not going to do anything to you. We seem to be in a truce, don't we? Unwilling companions.”

Shizuo snarls openly at that and makes his way over to the desk, looming over it and salivating onto Izaya's papers. Izaya merely looks up at him pleasantly, knowing Shizuo won't actually kill him. Shizuo is too afraid of being left alone to do so.

“Is it some kind of atonement? You think keeping yourself sleep deprived will help you feel better about what you are? It's actually only making it worse.” Izaya listens to Shizuo's deep, rumbling growl, and hears it for the question it really is. “I'm not awake because I want to be, Shizu-chan! It's not the same. You know I have insomnia. At the very least, I'm grateful for your company.”

Shizuo huffs and turns away from him then, going back to pacing. Izaya knows how cruel it is of him to act as if Shizuo has any choice to be here, but it hardly matters to Izaya why Shizuo is here. He's here. That's all Izaya needs.

It was months ago, another full moon. Izaya was fed up with Shizuo, wanted him gone for good. Shizuo wasn't rising to Izaya's challenges anymore, would actually ignore Izaya if they crossed paths on the street. More and more of Shizuo's time was spent with that woman, that doe-eyed assassin, and Izaya decided he was done playing around. He hired some men, some higher-ups in the Yakuza, actually, and Shizuo fought as he always does, but he couldn't avoid the sharp teeth when they broke his skin and infected him with something that could never be cured.

It took two weeks for Shizuo to come to Izaya. Shizuo was pale, haggard, looked as if he hadn't slept in days. He stormed into Izaya's apartment and demanded to know what was wrong with him, why he wanted to bite and tear, why his dreams were filled with blood and viscera— “guts” is what Shizuo actually said, but that's besides the point.

“Why did you come to me?” Izaya had asked. “What makes you think I know?”

The answer was more than Shizuo could put into words. All monsters make their way to Izaya sooner or later, all of them knowing Izaya can help if he chooses to. It's why Shinichi made contact with him, why the more beastly members of the Yakuza put up with him. Izaya is stronger than he looks, smarter than is good for him, and filled with a constant boredom that makes him dangerous. To top it all off, he's one of the only witches in Japan, and an incredibly powerful one at that.

Izaya explained that Shizuo was bitten by a werewolf, and he would succumb to his desires during the next full moon unless he relented to trusting Izaya to help, and at first, Shizuo stormed out, cursing, threatening to bash Izaya's head in. A week later, one week before the next full moon, Shizuo was back, looking worse than before, and he had a tired sort of acceptance about him that let Izaya know the monster had already worked through all the other stages of grief.

Now, they can be around each other for extended periods of time, but never without underlying malice and contempt in their words and actions. Shizuo refuses to take the potion home and be alone in this, and Izaya hardly minds being subjected to Shizuo's transformation, despite the fact that Shizuo keeps promising to kill him before sunrise. They're at an impasse, and like all shaky alliances, they're waiting for the other one to break it first.

The next time Izaya looks up from his computer, Shizuo is back to normal, curled into a ball in the floor, panting at the strain of his return to humanity. Izaya stands and goes to his side, offering him a blanket to cover his trembling, naked body, and Shizuo swats him away, sending Izaya toppling to the floor. Izaya only laughs, pleased Shizuo still has some fight in him. It's so much more fun this way.

“Fuck,” Shizuo hisses, lifting his head to glare openly at Izaya. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” Izaya asks earnestly.

“Like you love this.”

Izaya opens his mouth to respond, but he decides Shizuo has suffered enough for one night. He stands and goes back to his desk, leaving Shizuo to his own devices. Normally Shizuo will dress and leave immediately, but he lingers this time, hovering almost uncertainly by Izaya.

“Your mind is a mess,” Izaya says, hating that he can hear the majority of Shizuo's thoughts. Izaya tries not to read minds very often, feels like it's an unfair advantage in his line of work, and he so loves an actual challenge. But Shizuo's mind is different; it's loud and demanding, wanting more than anything to be heard.

“Why are you helping me?” Shizuo asks.

“I help many members of this world and the next, Shizu-chan,” Izaya replies without looking up. “It's part of my job.”

“Why wouldn't you want me to lose my mind and kill someone? Everyone would know then, wouldn't they? That I'm a monster. Isn't that what you want?”

Izaya looks up at him at last, a bored expression on his face. “It's enough that I know it.”

“Bullshit,” Shizuo snaps. “I keep waiting for you to sell me out, to tell everyone what I am. Why the fuck haven't you? I wouldn't help you if the tables were turned.”

“I know that,” Izaya says, shrugging. “I guess you could say I've been touched by how pitiful you are. How helpless.” Izaya's smile stretches into a leer, and he can see the way it makes Shizuo's skin crawl. “You need me.”

“I could find someone else,” Shizuo says. “Celty could know another...magic person.”

“By all means, go find them,” Izaya says. “Go explore the country and beyond on your measly second rate bodyguard salary. Better yet, go to Kasuka and tell him what you are and beg him for help in finding someone else to give you the same potion I give you for free every month.”

Shizuo flinches at that. He's obviously terrified of Kasuka finding out, which is hilarious in itself, as Kasuka is dating Ruri, another of Izaya's clients. It's true she doesn't have much vampire blood in her veins, but she has enough to feel the bloodlust. Izaya hasn't told Shizuo any of that, though. If nothing else, Izaya is loyal to his clients until they give him reason not to be, even if those reasons are nothing more than being more interesting once they find out Izaya betrayed them.

“You could go to Celty, see if Shinra and his crazy father can help you look for a cure. You could do a lot of things, but you come to me every month.” Izaya rests his chin on his hand and watches Shizuo carefully. “Is it because you already hate me, so you don't mind me seeing you at your lowest?”

“Fuck you,” Shizuo says, and he marches towards the door. Izaya rolls his eyes and goes back to typing, but he looks up again when he realizes Shizuo hasn't left yet.

“Say whatever the hell you have to and then leave me alone,” Izaya huffs. He needs to finish this assignment soon, and he'd like to do it within the next few hours so he can sleep afterwards.

“I know how rare it is. What you are,” Shizuo says, his back still to Izaya. “Celty told me.”

“I'm surprised you spoke to her about any of it.”

“I didn't tell her what I am. I know she wouldn't judge me for it, but still, I just...” Shizuo trails off, and he turns to face Izaya. “But she knows what you are, and she told me. That's why I came to you.”

“And what did she say about me?” Izaya asks, amused. He knows the courier despises him, but he doesn't care much for her either aside what she can do for him.

“She said there's a reason witches are so rare, and it's because most of them have been killed off.” Shizuo moves closer. “She said the majority of them abused their powers, the same way you do, and that's why they're targeted so often.”

“She neglected to mention the part where it was everyone else who came to us first,” Izaya says sharply, remembering the first time he saw members of the other world. Ghosts, demons, monsters of every kind flocking to him, asking for help. He was a child then, a neglected one at that. He was on his own with no one to help him, and that was when he realized how unfair the world could really be. “You're always barking about how you can't control your strength, well I can't control this. I didn't ask for this either.”

“You did this to me,” Shizuo accuses. It's not the first time he's said it, but Izaya has never admitted to it.

“And if I did?” Izaya asks, annoyed by this entire exchange. “What are you going to do about it?”

Shizuo roars with rage and lurches towards Izaya, lifting him up and slamming him against the wall. He breathes into Izaya's face, his sharp teeth bared.

“Why can't you just leave me the fuck alone?!” Shizuo shouts, and suddenly it seems as if he's being deflated, like all the strength is leaving him. He drops Izaya's feet to the floor, but he doesn't step away from Izaya's space. “Why can't you leave me alone?” he asks again, defeated.

“Because you're interesting,” Izaya says, and when he lifts his fingers to Shizuo's face, Shizuo only flinches slightly at the touch. “Because you're right, I'm alone in this, and you were alone, too. You were surrounded by people, but you were alone. No one knows better than me how that feels.”

“You ruined my life,” Shizuo says, no ire to it.

“You ruined mine first,” Izaya says, not bothering to elaborate. Shizuo doesn't seem confused, just tired, and when Izaya tucks his face into Shizuo's neck, the beast only growls softly before allowing it.

The thing about wolves is, they always protect their necks. It's one of their most vulnerable areas. Shizuo is allowing this, and that speaks volumes in itself. Izaya smiles and wraps his arms around Shizuo, clenching his fingers in the fabric of Shizuo's shirt.

“It'd be easier for you, wouldn't it? If you actually hated me,” Izaya murmurs. He presses his lips to Shizuo's neck, and he can feel the tremble of Shizuo's body before Shizuo's arms wrap around him in return.

“You won't die, right? You can't,” Shizuo says, his voice muffled in Izaya's hair.

“Wouldn't it be better for you if I did?” Izaya asks.

“Yes. No. Fuck.” Shizuo kisses the top of Izaya's head, and he makes a disgruntled noise when Izaya pulls away, growling until he realizes what it is Izaya wants. Their lips brush together gently, a complete contrast to all their harsh words and usual actions. “Izaya,” Shizuo breathes, clinging tight enough to Izaya to hurt.

“You won't be alone, Shizu-chan,” Izaya says, sighing sweetly when Shizuo kisses him again. They wind up on Izaya's couch, their clothes scattered around them as they give into their basic instincts, showing each other just how beastly they can be.

[propertyofnikkisthighs]

She’s My Collar pt. 3

Trigger warning: Mentions of domestic abuse

“It’s been 3 days Riv. You’re gonna have to talk to me about what the fuck happened the other day.” Tommy says standing on my balcony smoking a cigarette.

How do I even begin to explain myself though? I swipe his pack of cigarettes off the railing and light one taking a drag. Tommy raises an eyebrow at my actions, but otherwise is non reactive to the nasty habit I’ve picked up and quit for what felt like a million times.

“I’ve known Kevin most of my life.” I start, my voice already beginning to shake. “He is a few years older than me and worked on my grandparent’s farm and I was head over heels for him. Like I used to follow him around as he cleaned the barns level in love because he was always so kind and sweet to me.”

Tommy just nods his head along and I continue.

“We got married right after I graduated high school and that was when he stopped being so sweet. He found he preferred cuddling a bottle of vodka at night a lot more than he liked cuddling up with me. Then, instead of hitting the bottles, he hit me.”

Tommy’s hand curls into a fist at his side and he blows hard out of his nose. “Go on” he says and I can tell he’s working on keeping his cool.

“When I found out I was pregnant the beatings stopped for a little bit. He, um, seemed really happy for a while and I really thought this was what we needed to be happy again. Boy was I wrong.” I hadn’t even realized tears were streaming down my face until I felt them hitting my trembling hands in my lap.

“He came home one night drunker than I had ever seen him and meaner than he had any right to be and just let loose on me. A neighbor heard me screaming thank god and called the cops or I might have died that night along with our baby. We come from a pretty small town so there wasn’t much help for me to leave him, most people thought it wasn’t their business. About a month later I took every last dime I had, all the clothes I could carry, and left my ring and the life I had under ‘Rebecca’ there and came to L.A.. That was about a year ago.”

I looked down to see Tommy had silently slipped his hands into mine as I was recounting the story that I had hoped to never have to explain to anybody. He rubbed his thumb against the back of my hand and took a deep breath.

“I promise you Riv, I will kill him if he so much as looks at you again.” I’m soon crushed against Tommy’s chest in a tight hug and I would be lying if I said it wasn’t the safest I had ever felt in the last year. Hell, the last few years.

“Thank you Tommy, but I don’t want you boys to get caught in the crossfire.”

“What else will you do then?” He asks quietly.

“Probably pack up and move elsewhere. Somewhere he can’t find me.”

“No.” Tommy says standing straight up. “No you can’t leave Riv we just started being friends.” He paces back and forth on the small balcony while lighting another cigarette.

“You guys are on your way to doing big shit T-Bone. I can’t get in the way of that.”

“That’s even more of a reason to let the guys and I protect you?” He says as if it’s obvious. “Besides, you’re our photographer. Who else is going to capture all the nudity on camera?”

“You know for a second there you weren’t a gross pig.” I try to not mirror Tommy’s face splitting grin, but I’m not that strong.

“Atta girl.” He bounces up and walks in my house as if he lives there and calls behind him “Come on let’s go to the diner for pancakes. My treat.” I didn’t question how he earned the money to pay this time. I knew it was rarely legal.

I double over laughing in the booth for nearly the tenth time at another story of the stupid shit Tommy has done. We’re the same age, but I can’t help but feel inferior in the life I’ve lived. Besides packing up and moving out of town to come to L.A. on a whim, I haven’t done anything exciting. Tommy has had enough experiences for two lives.

“So anyway Nikki comes up with the genius idea to stick our dicks in breakfast burritos to cover up any scent that we had just fucked these other chicks. Cause like our girlfriends couldn’t know right?” He pauses to sip his Coke and pours the rest of his Jack shooter into my coffee.

“Tommy Lee!” I scold in a hushed whisper.

“Let me finish my story. So anyway me, Sixx, and Vinnie are basically fucking these burritos in the back of my van at the ass crack of dawn to all go home to our girlfriends because Vince wanted to fuck a bride to be at her bachelorette party.” Tommy stuffs more pancakes into his shit eating grin.

“Tommy you guys are insane. How the hell am I friends with you lunatics? Mick is the least insane one and he’s hardly around.” I laugh sipping my spiked coffee wincing only a tiny bit at the burn of the whiskey.

“You just haven’t known Mick long enough. He gets crazy too.” He wags his eyebrows at me suggestively “And you get to capture those moments on film”

“Oh lucky me.” I feign excitement and he tosses a sugar packet hitting me in the face. The walk back to the apartment from the diner is filled with just as many laughs as our meal was and my cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling. Tommy has one arm slung around my shoulder while his other swings at his side besides when he takes a puff of his cigarette. Tommy is everything my parents would’ve hated to see me hanging around with, let alone being as close with him as we are now. He had long dark hair, wore make up, and the only real work ethic he had was put into his drumming (that’s not to say he didn’t have work ethic they just wouldn’t have seen it that way).

“Ya wanna know something Riv?” Tommy asks looking everywhere that isn’t at me.

“I wanna know everything at all times.” I joke and he hip checks me lightly. A grin spreads across his face and I wonder if his cheeks hurt like mine from smiling so much.

“You have huge eyes.” He says finally.

I stop in my tracks and stare at him mouth agape.

“Tommy Lee are you making fun of me?!” I shriek and he’s double over laughing at my expression.

“I’m kidding! Well kinda.” I shove at him lightly and begin to walk away, but his hand in mine stops me from leaving him to laugh on his own and we resume walking together to the apartment this time hand in hand.

“What I was actually gonna say was-” Tommy’s grip on my hand tightens and a scary look casts over his features.

I follow his line of sight to see Kevin speaking to the landlord that lived on the floor level. It looked like he hadn’t noticed us yet and I wanted to keep things that way. I tug Tommy’s hand trying to pull him up the stairs to our floor out of his line of sight.

“Oh am I interrupting date night?” I hear behind me. Busted.

“Kevin. Not now.” I hiss not wanting to draw any attention to us.

“I’m sorry did I your HUSBAND interrupt your date with your new fuck buddy?” Kevin raises his voice.

“I’m only going to tell you once dude, don’t fucking talk to her like that.” Tommy growls out between grit teeth.

“Hey nobody tells me how to talk to my fucking wife.” Kevin steps closer. Tommy doesn’t step back being that it’s hard to be intimidated by a man at least six inches shorter than you. “She left you bro. Get the fuck over it and move on.” Tommy had somehow maneuvered me behind him and positioned himself in front of me. Kevin clearly didn’t take kindly to that.

“Listen, dick head, I’m not leaving without my fucking wife. You can find someone new to fuck in a city like this. I guarantee she isn’t the only whore”

And that’s when I hear it, the sound of a fist connecting with a face and teeth clanking together. Tommy is on Kevin before I even have time to full process that a punch was thrown. Tommy had the element of surprise and uses that to his advantage to land a few good punches to Kevin’s face. Kevin’s foot connects with Tommy’s gut and gives him the opportunity to get up and land a few punches of his own.

“Guys please stop!” I’m shouting trying to get them off each other without getting hit. I know there’s nothing I can do physically so I do the only thing I can think of doing. And I scream for Nikki.

Nikki is pulling Tommy off of Kevin who looks worse for wear than I had ever seen him. Kevin’s lip is busted, he’s got a black eye forming, and there is blood coming from both a cut on the top of his nose and from his nose in general. Tommy has a small cut on his cheek, also what looks like a black eye coming, and is bleeding from somewhere inside his mouth because he spits blood on Kevin. Kevin charges at him again, but is knocked on his ass by Nikki kicking him square in the gut.

“Enough!” Nikki screams and a small part of me is scared by the sound.

I don’t bother to make sure Kevin is okay before I follow the boys up to our floor. I race into my own apartment to grab some painkillers, a washcloth,  and a bag of frozen peas for Tommy. When I get into their apartment I see Tommy downing some whiskey from the bottle and he tries to smile at me and winces. I gently pluck the bottle from his hand and set it on the counter next to him. I run the washcloth under water and begin to clean the blood off his face. He hisses as I dab at the cut on his cheek and lip trying to be gentle so I don’t make the bleeding start again.

“Hey River, could you maybe not try to get my drummer killed?” Nikki jokes knocking back some of the whiskey. Tears well up in my eyes despite me knowing there’s no malice behind his words.

“I’m so sorry Tommy.” I sob tears cascading down my face.

“Hey, hey shhh” Tommy tries to console me by hugging me to him. “These things, they happen. Hang out with Sixx and I long enough and you’ll be bailing us out of jail in no time.”

“Fuck I’m surprised you haven’t already.” Nikki pipes up.

“This is all my fault if you wouldn’t have tried to stick up for me you wouldn’t have gotten hit.”

“I swung first.” He chuckles rubbing my back.

“Atta boy!” Nikki bellows and we all have a good laugh at that. “I don’t know about you guys, but I could sure use a fucking shot.” Tommy tosses back two painkillers and washes them down with a swig of whiskey offering the bottle to me.

“Fuck it.” I shrug and down two big gulps and pass the bottle to Nikki. He’s clapping me on the back while I hold the frozen peas to Tommy’s eye and pretend I can’t feel Tommy’s thumb rub tiny circles on my thigh where I’m standing between his legs. And I pretend the warmth I feel is from the alcohol and not because of the way he looks at me.

[mrneighbourlove]

Fall of a Dynasty: Ch 3. Signing the Fine Print

"I've stopped the bleeding," Doctor Boo-Boo yawned. He was sleeping in his private quarters in the castle after completing surgery on Tulilaid's foot. The captain of the guard had fallen from his horse during a routine scouting drill when his saddle slipped off due to the buckle breaking. It was an accident, but broke a few bones in his foot. Unfortunately, it needed surgical repair, so he was off duty for a few weeks. Still, with Kelly fussing over him, he would be back in tiptop shape in no time. "The Emperor will be fine. She just needs rest now."

"Thank you, my brother said he'd be along shortly, he had to uh... put on more presentable attire." Ralnor worded his sentence delicately. "Not come in his night robe."

"You don't have to sugarcoat it, prince, I know how much the king and queen fuck."

"... very well then, he had to change out of a pair of leather pants."

"Nice. Anyway, I'll come back and check on her in an hour. I need check on Tulilad now, make sure he wasn't quoting that obnoxious poetry since the drugs make him loopy."

"Thank you." Ralnor waited until Dr. Boveir exited the medical wing and turned his attention to Zannah. "We are... quite surprised. At this kind of visit, I mean."

Zannah was incredibly tired, but the moment she locked eyes with Leere, she was being kept up by spite. No way she’d fall asleep around that woman. Ralnor was rumoured to be quite the snake himself as well. “That tends to happen when people try to assassinate you.”

"Tell us what is happening." Ralnor told Zannah. "We cannot help you unless we know the full story."

“My Empire is in the middle a civil war Ralnor.”

Rinku tilted her head, her wrinkles frowning at the thought. “We haven’t heard about that.”

“Because it’s been very small, and I’ve kept a tight lid on it until now.”

"Civil war?" Ralnor sounded... uneasy. If there was unrest in the Kikai Empire, it would not be long until it spread elsewhere. He would not risk having it spread here. "I'm assuming someone is trying to take your throne."

“Worse. They’re trying to tear down the fabric of my Empire for a democracy. But yes, I imagine they want the seat of authority once all is said and done.”

Leere shrugged dismissively at the Emperor. “I’m guessing you came to Hyrule to discuss that very issue. Until of course you were attacked.”

“That is correct as well.”

"I'm here, I apologize for the wait, my queen had need of me." Covarog did change clothes but forgot to wipe the lipstick off of his cheek. "Doctor Boveir filled me in on what happened. What's this nonsense about a fight on our doorstep?"

"Evidently, brother, there is a civil war in the Empire." Ralnor informed Covarog. "They want a democracy now."

"That's... more fighting, more deaths, it could threaten to spread here if it is not contained."

"Exactly."

"We have to get this issue resolved at once." Covarog asked Zannah. "Who is the perpetrator behind this?"

Zannah scowled, hiding her disdain with a half-hearted chuckle. “What? Not even a hello?”

We'll have time for pleasantries later, for now, we need information." Covarog was concerned about the Empire once again getting too haughty and trying to attack Hyrule. The last thing he wanted was another war. The kingdom had just recovered from Vul'kar. "Who is behind this?"

Zannah sighed, breathing softly. “A man by the name of Jaster Fett. He had enough influence to lead my Theron to betray me.”

"Is this someone you know or someone new?" Ralnor inquired. "If it is an enemy of the past, we could handle this with an advantage by predicting his next move."

"I've never heard of this man." Covarog thought for a moment. "The only person I ever knew to so open about his method of attack like this was your brother."

“I’ve never heard of this man until recently.” Zannah’s eyes gleamed malice at Covarog, the mention of her brothers from the likes of him infuriating her. “You’ll have to be more specific. My twin who was decapitated in front of me, or my eldest brother?”

"The bastard that kidnapped our sister, is that clear enough for you?" Covarog said dryly. "He's the cruelest son of a bitch that I ever knew."

Ralnor agreed with a nod. "Bastard for sure, though at least he's dead."

“I kidnapped your sister. Along with my Android.” Zannah didn’t know if he was playing a joke on her, but she’d keep her pride damn it.

Leere narrowed her eyes at the Emperor. “You seem almost proud of that.”

“Of course. It was one of my greatest military achievements.”

“Even if Rinku captured you and hog tied you.”

That quieted Zannah up good on the subject. “My brothers are long dead Covarog.”

"The only reason you're in our good graces is due to my wife, let's not forget that." Covarog glared at Zannah. "For some reason, she thought you worth sparring even after what you did to Kanisa, not to mention my wife's sister."

"Brother, let's stay on point." Ralnor had to be the voice of reason here. Even though he did not care for Zannah either, he thought there was definitely something to gain from this. "I suppose I should get right to the point. We negotiated a treaty, saying that we would not declare war on the Empire and the Empire would extend us the same courtesy. We would help each other in trade and provide supplies if there were to be a disaster. Yet, we never had lines of declaration about aiding during a civil war."

“Excuse me? You’re my ally? What do you think will happen to Hyrule if I’m not leading the Empire?”

"Simple." Ralnor spoke without batting an eye. "We crush it like we wanted to years ago. If you can't control your own people, and they become a threat to us, then we will use our forces to contain this mess you allowed to spiral out of control."

“And how many dead will that leave in Hyrule? Thousands. Can you have those deaths on your head King Covarog?”

"You honestly think that we will lose? You know my wife's capabilities. You've seen her army of dragons and elemental sorcerers." Covarog did not look too worried. "We have one of the best armies and a giant naval fleet thanks to Admiral Corsaire. My father's relationship with the local monsters would definitely help. Besides, I have it in good word there are many who would love to take a swing at the Empire. Yet, I do think there could be a way around this."

"I agree, brother, though it depends on whether or not she would take the offer and swallow her pride." Ralnor knew he and his brother had the same idea. "We could introduce you to someone who would solve this problem very easily."

“I’m asking if you can accept the dead on your side.”

“Zannah. Don’t you think the casualties of war can be avoided? At least mitigated?” Rinku rocked back and forth slowly on her chair. “You have children of your own. You don’t want them being caught up in a skirmish.”

“My children? My children are both safe in Danjur and already on deaths door. They often wondered why they weren’t outright killed due to the magnitude of their injuries. Don’t speak of my children.” Zannah groaned as her leg injury pulled her aches. “What possible friend can help me? That sounds like another debt.”

Leere looked to the two brothers. When she figured out who they were talking about, she shook her head. “No. I’m not having him interact with her black hearted soul.”

"You don't dictate who he can and cannot interact with." Ralnor reminded Leere. "He decides whether he wants to or not one we propose the idea to him. Besides, you know he has a love of conflict."

"Not to mention, he is probably the only one who could put her in her place." Covarog snorted in amusement. "I know he did with me."

"He does that to everyone he meets, the bastard." Ralnor groaned. "The question is, what would he want in return?"

"I suppose that's for him to know and her to find out."

Leere threw her hands in the air. She was ready to go to bed and deal with this lost fiery reptile in the morning. “Fine. She gets a cell, right?”

"Unfortunately, no." Ralnor mused. "She is, after all, still part of our treaty and a visiting diplomatic guest."

Covarog yawned, tired as well. "How do we get him here?"

"Oh don't worry." Ralnor looked up at the ceiling. He knew Bonegrinder always heard the voices in the castle. "He knows to come."

~

"Good goddesses, why did he insist that we meet down here of all places?" Covarog hated the cold and the tunnels were dark, dank, and just that. Freezing.

"I would have been happy to meet him in the library like last time!"

"He likes to make an entrance and I told you to wear an extra layer." Ralnor responded to his brother's complaining like an annoyed parent. "And he likes to play on his own turf."

"Not to mention, we have cripple here stuck in a wheelchair."

"She couldn't walk down here."

"Not like she's going to be able to run from him if she gets scared either."

Leere was glad they could all get a fresh morning after a night’s rest. Zannah didn’t seem to think that 6 hours was a proper sleep though. “My son has a better wheel chair then what you provided Covarog. I’m freezing my ass on this thing.”

"Well, I'm sorry that we don't have one with memory foam cushioning for your pompous ass like Annuciata does for your son." Covarog held out his hand in a gesture. "Do you want to postpone this meeting so your ass will be more comfortable while I order you a perfect chair?"

"Brother..."

"Fine. She's being testy."

"I agree. But we're here to negotiate."

"Where is the big guy anyway?"

"Oh, he's here." Ralnor assured them. "He's just watching for a moment. You know how he like to observe."

"Pretty prince, what did you bring old Bonegrinder?" The snake was on the ceiling, hidden by shadows. He chose not to reveal himself just yet. He wanted to know more firstly before getting involved with another royal leader. "A green lady to add to his precious collection of children? Blue and White will be intrigued."

"No, Bonegrinder, she is actually here because we told her that you could help her."

"Hmm, and help the green lady with... what?"

Leere jabbed Zannah’s back, poking hard with her finger. “Well Zannah. Do you want to tell the lovely man what you’d like?”

Zannah hissed at both Covarog and Leere. “I loath you both. And what man? I don’t see anyone because you have strapped to this chair and we are in a dank catacomb.”

"Hehehe, what makes you think that Bonegrinder is a 'man' as you put it?" The snake was amused. "That he is even human? Is your worldview so limited, green lady?"

"Oh, you made him laugh, that means he likes you." Covarog informed Zannah with a grin.

"Just wait until she has had a day full of his antics." Ralnor rolled his eyes. "Then she'll get why I can't stand him."

"Oh, pretty prince, you love old Bonegrinder, you just won't admit it."

���Enough of this. I came here to ask assistance for my Empire. Show yourself, or do you waste my time with false friends Covarog?”

"False friends? Now, now, green lady, do you mistake Bonegrinder for a ghost?" The Anagari slowly slithered downward from the ceiling. Over the years, he had grown from giant to enormous. Now, he was wider in girth and longer in length. Yet, he still held the daunting face of insanity displayed across his features. "He assures you, green lady," His tail coiled around her wheelchair, bringing her closer to his face for her to see him truly up close. "He is not a spirit nor a specter, he is very much alive."

"See? Told you. He loves an entrance."

“You’re a giant chimera!” Zannah was openly shocked by how huge the snake man was.

"HAHAHAHA!" Bonegrinder actually laughed, deeply, at her stunned face. "Green lady, Bonegrinder is an Anagari, an Echidnan, a child of Mother, and one of many in her legion."

"If you think he's big, Mother is three times his size."

"And Mother is many."

"Very much so."

"Tell him, green lady, tell him what you wish of him." Bonegrinder's tail tilted her chin upward to keep her gaze upon him. "Do you wish for knowledge? Do you wish for strength? Or perhaps do you wish to surrender to the fate the deities have dealt upon you, knowing there is no winning against a divinity."

“I wish for my Empire I so carefully built up from near annihilation to not fall to the hands of filthy traitors. It survived Ganondorf, and it must survive now. I have citizens to look after. The Hasai people will grow weak with time if left to a democracy.” Zannah coughed, the cold getting to her lungs.

"Hrm, so you wish for your people to survive," Bonegrinder slithered around Zannah, circling her as he spoke. "But what are you willing to sacrifice? His magic, Echidnan magic, has its price... even the two pretty brothers know this."

Zannah gripped her chair handles tightly. If Zizi was here, she’d be with every human that hated her guts. Part of her wondered if the three siblings brought her here to be become a snack. “You’re all friends, and you all represent Hyrule’s interest. What do you want from me?”

"He already knows of the little problem back in your home," Bonegrinder informed Zannah. "A civil war with someone trying to take your throne. However, you have lost the faith of your people. If you were placed back on the throne, then this would eventually happen again."

"Thus, where my suggestion took place." Manaco suddenly appeared aside of Bonegrinder. "And he listened. The question is, will you?"

"Your people admire strength and dedication to the betterment of the whole... yet, he can give them one thing you've failed to do." Ralnor placed his hand on Manaco's shoulder. "Loyalty."

Leere and the others spent an extra hour and two discussing without Zannah how they could deal with her little predicament. It her who took Manaco down to Bonegrinder to discuss their plan with the giant shaman.

"And to keep the Empire under wraps, and to ensure that no future betrayal or lack of control happens again in the future at your hands, we decided to select our nomination to the throne." Covarog declared. "Your daughter, Athena. While she was not originally our first choice, Manaco here then had a splendid idea."

"I'm the nephew of Queen Zarazu, the child of her younger sister and a well-respected Waku back home." Manaco then laid out his proposal. "I will marry Athena and help her govern the Kikai Empire...”

"Hehehe, see, green lady?" Bonegrinder chuckled. "They have thought this plan well... however, where Bonegrinder comes into play is his magic to ensure this runs smoothly. Are you ready to hear his price?"

Zannah crossed her arms, her eyes staring down Manaco’s soul. To marry his daughter and take the throne was a serious step to take. “When did you want to marry my daughter boy?”

"Pffffttt..." Covarog tried to contain a snicker. "Good goddesses, you're blind, woman."

"Seriously?" Manaco looked miffed. "I've liked her since I first laid eyes on her. She just wouldn't have anything to do with a 'little kid' when she was a 'cool teenager'. You know how that goes." He shook his head. "Besides, I am a man now. I have my own house, my own land, I have bested others in combat, and by Hasai law, that means I have entered into adulthood. I may not be direct royalty, but I'm the best chance you have at regaining the respect of your people. They already adore my mother and my father, and I have won their trust in the past."

“Hmmm. Perhaps I should have groomed you, instead of producing all your half siblings.” Zannah didn’t hold snark, but real hindsight in her voice. “In her condition, however, I don’t think she’s mentally strong enough to marry anyone.”

"And that is where this old snake comes in," Bonegrinder simply waved his hand over Zannah's leg and the wound... was gone. No pain. No scar. No indication there ever was a hurt. "See, green lady? There is more to this snake than meets the eye."

Zannah stood from the chair, kicking it back towards Covarog. She had no words at first, but when she found them, she knew exactly what she would say. “Tell me your price once more. Heal both my children, and I will pay it.”

Leere crossed her arms. She supposed mother hood could make even the hardest killers soft.

"Not only will you agree to this plan, but in the future, Bonegrinder will have use of you," The Anagari informed Zannah. "No matter how much you deny the deities or curse them, they do have a handle in your fate. One day, Balance will be challenged by Chaos. The world will be at stake; not just your survival, your kingdom's survival, but everyone's." He used his magic to depict a feminine figure with eight wings fighting against a blob of shredded teeth which threatened to swallow her whole. "Queen Luimaya will play a vital role years from now. We will all have to fight and stand with Balance. His condition is you, your kin, your people, will be faithful not only to Luimaya but to the deities as well. Only then, will they possibly not consider your soul damned for daring to achieve what a mortal should never dream of."

“Then perhaps your deity should have a chat with my own. Exodrum is a god of fire and war. His blood is in me. I don’t know about a war in the future you speak of, but he’d choose the side that can bring the most challenge.” Zannah was still confused. “I’m already Hyrule’s ally. If a nation threatens them, we attack. Nothing changes there.”

"You think your puny god of fire can disobey the mother of the heavens if he doesn't want to do what she says?" Bonegrinder asked Zannah with a very disturbing smile. "You seek power, green lady... you have never experienced true power before. Yet, the question remains... do you agree?" He held out his hand.

"This snake is told that this is a gesture human do to show the agreement is complete. Once you take his hand, there is no going back on your word. He will heal your children, and help save your nation, but the prices are yours alone to pay."

“I agree. Heal my children and make sure that the bastard known as Jaster Fett perishes.” Zannah looked to Covarog, tilting her head. “There’s nothing you want as King?”

"Loyalty is good enough for me, as well as the previous arrangements in the treaty. Besides," Covarog admitted with a chuckle. "Gloating is good enough for me."

"That and once again, the queen spoke on your behalf." Ralnor reminded Zannah.

"The Empire, under Manaco's and Athena's rule, will report directly to Hyrule. It will become an extension of our country."

"And there's that."

"So, green lady," Bonegrinder asked her once more, offering his hand, swirling with magic to seal the binding. "Do you agree?"

“What?” Zannah couldn’t believe that her territory would become a state of Hylian law. It was moment she found hard to breathe.

Leere, however, took a deep breath of satisfaction. When she heard what Zannah did to Zizi, she thought back to how she should have killed her long ago. This was suitable payback. “That’s right. The Empire becomes part of the Kingdom to Hyrule. What’s the matter Zannah, you look a little green in the gills there.”

“So I’m to exit the throne immediately?”

"Yes." Covarog was not giving Zannah a chance to argue. "My kingdom has been burned by your flames one too many times, Zannah. We're not allowing it to happen again."

"The only reason that we're not taking this opportunity to simply crush your nation is due to the queen's insistence that an overflow of allies is better than not enough." Ralnor explained to Zannah. "Simply put, you are a pawn on our chessboard now, that will be moved as we see fit. We took one out of your books, Zannah. Figured you'd at least have an inkling this was coming."

"Worry not, green lady, Bonegrinder will ensure your little girl is healthy enough to take over and provide an heir." The Anagari flicked his tail. "Your bloodline will continue... but the throne is now out of your reach."

“I’m a Queen in a game of chess. Don’t insult me you tiny Gerudo.” Zannah internally thought about this choice. What would T0-D say? What would Annuciata say? What should she say? She had an idea all three would agree. Turning to Bonegrinder, she shook his hand. “Do what you can to help my people. That goes for the rest of you worms as well.”

"Queen? Of nothing now, Zannah."

Once the Emperor took the hand of Bonegrinder, there was magic working there. A seal formed around Zannah's wrist. It was not large, only small scribble of elegant writing. This would hold Zannah to her word. The Gerudo brothers had expressed to the Anagari that they held concern of her trying to find a loophole or break her bond.

"Now, green, little, lady... tell this old snake. Where are your children?"

________________________________________________________________

Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/614055858328977408/fall-of-a-dynasty-ch-2-friends-in-high-places

Next Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/614060759069130752/fall-of-a-dynasty-ch-4-a-family-made-whole

Crossover with @ridersoftheapocalypse. Story arc revolving the Hasai.

[chinatea]

Ian/Diminie (feat. minor Tattoo/Baby G)

ABO. Where Diminie asks for nothing and Ian keeps coming back for more.

- Ian and Baby G are twins. A dominant alpha and omega respectively.

- Omegas don’t have self-lubricating assholes, they have slits (or heat slits).

Names:

Baby G - Jiyeon.

Diminie - Jisoo.

Tattoo - Junghwan.

Ian is Ian. (:

Ian knows damn well why he did it - he was pissed off at Jiyeon for taking up with Junghwan. While the omega could have picked any knot he wanted, it just had to be that mongrel, huh.

So yes, Ian took it personally. Even if it had nothing to do with him - Ian could always tell when Jiyeon was in love, which was never, not for real anyhow, until that knothead moved into their town and his twin has been acting like a freaking omega ever since, with his air-light giggles and sickening amounts of skinship between the two.

Ian can’t even kick Junghwan’s ass for treating Jiyeon anything less than the precious prince he is, because Junghwan ferociously does just that. The problem is, Ian just doesn’t like him, on an almost visceral level, and would find any opportunity to express his distaste in abundant detail so much so Jiyeon had to drag him aside and tell him in no uncertain terms to...shut the fuck up.

(“I love him, you idiot.”)

That was a few days ago and Ian has been feeling petty ever since. Enough to snub every single one of Jiyeon's omega posse that his twin likes to toss at him like confetti because he finds their thirst funny. Ian entertained him out of convenience - he has to fuck someone, right, and they're not that bad aside from the part where they open their mouth to have a conversation with him about their future life as mates - which immediately wills Ian's boner into non-existence. He's a fuck boy, not a settler, okay. So tonight, out of spite, he decides to chase his own game or maybe none at all.

There is no shame in spending the night alone - unless it's the Midnight Fair night.

It occurs three times per month with a single purpose in mind - for unmated alphas and omegas to hook up, no strings attached. For omegas, the attendance is somewhat mandatory too, because no alpha is going to miss out on the chance to get their knot wet. If the omega is interested, that is.

They’re not, like, animals, after all. Only partly so.

Jiyeon, opposite of him, is whispering things into Junghwan’s ear who has his arm around the omega like they are fucking mated or something. Although it seems to be where things are going for them, at breakneck speed. Last week, Junghwan almost maimed a guy for catcalling Jiyeon on the street and now they’re being disgustingly cute and domestic every time Ian happens to glower in their direction.

(Jiyeon can’t really love him, can he?)

“Yannie.” Jiyeon throws him one of his wicked smiles that get everyone else wrapped around his pretty pinkie. Junghwan’s eyes glaze over and Ian finds it disgusting. “I think Seunghee wants your attention.”

“Who’s that again?” Ian grunts into his beer. To his credit, he really has no idea who Jiyeon is talking about, not that he's going to explain himself.

Jiyeon narrows his eyes, but before he can start something, Ian looks away, sweeping over the crowd - their advantageous position on the grassy hill allows him the best view of the town square littered with decorated stalls and festive couples. A few desperate eyes vying for his attention he ignores until his gaze lands at the fountain where a sizable group of omegas are playing with the flower garlands and whatnot - most of those omegas come from the Min clan and for some reason, they’re not exactly swimming in the alpha attention. Come to think of it, Ian has no idea why, but were he to contemplate a partner for the night, a Min omega wouldn’t even cross his mind. Until now, that is.

“Hey,” he calls over one of the alphas nearby, his hoobae. “See that omega? The one with a flower band on his head. Jisoo, I think?”

The guy looks where he’s pointing before doing a double take.

“Huh?”

“Ask him if he wants to come here.”

Ian gives him a pointed stare, daring him to say something stupid again, and the guy stalks off. Ian sighs, eyes flicking back to Jiyeon, but the omega has already moved on by now, giggling into Junghwan’s mouth - as if he could care less whom Ian ruts tonight.  

Ian doesn’t even know why he chose Min Jisoo, but at least he knows his name while the rest are just nameless faces, and maybe that’s that. There was one time when Ian had to help move stuff into the campus greenhouse and Jisoo was in charge of making sure he doesn’t trample over the saplings too much.

Ian remembers him being eerily quiet and keeping out of his way, for the most part. Ian also remembers Jisoo watching him when he thought Ian was too busy to notice, his attraction palpable in the air, but that’s normal to Ian, so he didn’t give it much thought, but now he’s almost certain that Jisoo won’t be able to reject him.

And he’s correct. The next time Ian happens to look up, Min Jisoo is right there, sans the flower band, so Ian is almost tempted to ask what happened. At least, the flower band gave some point of interest for the eye to rest on - there is something unassuming about the omega, in general. A lot unassuming, but maybe Ian is being too judgmental: not every omega can make an alpha’s breath catch in their throat the way Jiyeon does. And not every omega has to.

Jisoo is still pretty enough in his own quiet way.

Ian holds out his hand - feeling many eyes on him - and Jisoo takes it, cautious but with certain dignity, as he nestles in Ian’s lap. He has a nice scent, fresh and clean, no gaudy enhancers, obviously - he has nothing to prove, he already knows who he is. That could be attractive, too. At least, to Ian it is.

“Can I scent you, pup?” Ian purrs against his neck, smirking when he hears Jiyeon kiss his teeth so everyone in close vicinity knows what he thinks about Ian's little stunt.

Jisoo’s cheeks go pink and his scent blooms as Ian nuzzles in. For a moment, that’s all he knows - the delicate honeysuckle fragrance.

Later that night, Ian ruts into him in the park, tucked away in safe distance from the rowdy square. He’s holding his weight with both arms because Jisoo looks too delicate to be shoved against a tree or a wall, yet he barely weighs anything in Ian’s arms.

The sounds he makes are quiet and breathy. His thighs are milky, just the right amount of thick, and Ian enjoys seeing the angry marks his hands leave on skin when he grabs them with just a touch more fever, thinking that maybe, if he pushed just a bit more, he could break him forever. The possibility is certainly there.

Ian kisses him as Jisoo cums, trembling in his arms but barely uttering a word. Ian could feel his pleasure as his own - the shuttered look of utter bliss in his eyes. No one has fucked him the way Ian did. No one will.

Ian almost regrets picking him tonight. He’s an asshole, he knows that. It’s better if Jisoo knows that too.

“You okay?” he says in the shrill quiet of the late hours and Jisoo’s eyes are wide and full of awe, gazing up at him in shy wonder. For some reason, Ian wants to kiss him again. And he does, Jisoo’s lips pliant under his own.

“I’ll walk you home.”

It’s late afternoon on campus and Ian’s been watching Jisoo repot hostas outside the greenhouse. Not intentionally. He just happens to be here, hanging out by the gazebo, out for a smoke, in just the right distance so as not to seem too obvious.

It’s been a week since that night and before they parted, Ian made it adamantly clear that he won’t ask Jisoo come over to sit on his lap ever again. Of course, he didn’t have to be that much of an insensitive asshole about that, but his history with the omegas who couldn't take a soft no for an answer had taught him better.

Jisoo just smiled and nodded then, his hands laced together in a cutesy gesture.

“I understand.”

The meaning behind that smile escaped Ian. And if there is one thing Ian hates, it’s to be left in the dark. Was he disappointed or not? Not that it mattered.

But, was he?

Ian was not going to approach him just for that reason alone, but he isn’t the only one eyeing Jisoo, he finds, and the other guy pretends to help Jisoo, juggling some pots around like a dumbass, eyes never straying too far from his ass.

Conversely, Jisoo doesn’t pay him much mind, tiny palms tamping down the soil around the plant. He’s not the type to make much fuss, Ian thinks.

He also thinks that while Jisoo does have a fine-looking ass, he has a real thing for his thighs. He should have marked them more. Maybe even put his mouth on them, sucking bruises into the skin, so Jisoo would think of him every time he grazed a tender spot. Ian wouldn’t stop there though - kissing up to his slit and drinking the omega up. He wagers he’d be the first alpha to eat him out. Somehow that just makes sense.

His phone flashes with a message from Jiyeon and Ian might have been waiting for his text all day, but now he finds he doesn’t care that much.

He’s up before he knows, cutting straight through the lawn, grass wet from sprinklers. He sends the guy scampering with one intense glare and when Jisoo turns to look at him, sensing his presence, he’s not sure what to say.

His cigarette burns his fingers and he almost drops it.

“Please, don’t litter here,” Jisoo says, but it’s devoid of petty malice. His hands are dirty with soil. A little smudge of dirt is marking his chin. The sweetness of his scent hangs in the air, mixing with the greens.

“Would you like to come to my place tonight?” Ian asks, already knowing the answer.

The eyes of a wolf who loves never lie.  

A week later finds Ian sprawled on his back, Jisoo balancing on top of him, straddling his face like he’d done it a million times before, which he hadn’t - as expected, the omega didn't have much experience prior to him, but Ian has to marvel now at how shameless Jisoo can be, open to anything, and he rarely marvels at anything, period.

Tongue plunged deep into his heat, Ian has Jisoo by his hips, controlling the pace and the movement of his pelvis. From his position, Ian can’t see his face, but judging from the sounds alone, the picture that unfolds above him is pretty wild as Jisoo pants softly, riding Ian’s mouth in short rapid bursts, exactly the way Ian allows it because today he feels like being kind.

It’s the first time Ian spends the night at Jisoo’s place which effortlessly accommodates the entire botany book in cute DIY pots. And with Jisoo, it couldn't be any other way. Ian can honestly say that he likes spending time with him - not just fuck but hang out. Jisoo cooks, very well too, and by now, he's probably more familiar with Ian's little kitchen than the alpha himself.

Ian never asked to cook for him, but Jisoo never asked for his permission either - one morning, after their first proper sleepover, he'd just rolled up his sleeves and cracked on with whisking eggs to make pancakes for breakfast.

Ian would have been a fool to tell him to stop, so he didn't.

Caught in the moment of passion, none of them hear the creak of the door being open.

“Goodness,” a yelp.

The door shuts back, some hurried steps thumping down the stairs before it's quiet once again.

In a somewhat belated response, Jisoo scrambles off Ian, pulling the sheets over himself frantically, covering Ian too, even if whomever intruded on them has left already, having gotten an eyeful of their debauchery.

“Who’s that?” the alpha slurs, flexing his jaw to get rid of tension. Half of his face is covered in slick. It’s obscene and he loves it. 

“My dad,” Jisoo murmurs sheepishly, tugging the sheets up further to bury half of his face in them. So adorably bashful.

“You’re not in trouble, are you?”

“Not really,” Jisoo sighs. “Though, I wish I would have warned him that I’d have someone over.”

“Well, in that case...” Ian croons, a hand slipping under the sheets to tickle up Jisoo’s naked thigh - he attempts to wiggle away with a squeak, but Ian is faster.

“Get back here, minx.”

Naturally, the word travels around fast.

The Jeon and that Min omega, Jisoo, or something. The Jeon’s omega, Jisoo. Ian’s omega, just that, yes, Ian’s omega.

How they’ve come to that conclusion Ian has no idea. Wolves fuck around all the time without anyone making a big fuss about that, unless you’re one of the Jeons, because the Jeons are all the rage and everyone wants a piece of that.

Well, fuck them.

Not that he can say the same to Jiyeon though, when he finds him one day, sprawled across Ian’s bed on his tummy, ankles swaying in the air as he leafs through a magazine.

“Yannie, Yannie, Yannie,” he tuts with a wicked curve of his mouth. He pats a spot on the duvet next to him. “Come, let’s cuddle, baby brother.”

That’s still debatable who is the baby among the two of them. Ian likes to think he came first. But so does Jiyeon, and being an omega, he wins by definition.

“I missed you, you stubborn loaf,” Jiyeon whines, tugging Ian onto the bed and immediately draping himself over Ian’s form. He can be quite the octopus when he wants to be and as much as Ian’s like to think he grew out of this silliness, there is little he can deny his omega twin.

“You have your alpha now. Go cuddle him,” Ian points out still, a massive pout still tucked somewhere in the lazy drawl.

The omega retaliates with a nip to his ear. It stings and Ian lets out a hiss, wincing at the prickle of pain. Jiyeon has sharp teeth and the gentlest touch as he soothes his earlobe with his fingertips.

Ian rumbles deep in his throat but settles back, relaxing under his touch.

“You know what I like most about him, though?” Jiyeon asks.

“No idea.”

“He listens.”

“You like your pups trained, who knew,” Ian huffs, eyes closed.

“Not like that, stupid,” Jiyeon teases. “He just...listens, to me, to my needs, to what I have to say, because he cares. And that’s rare in an alpha, because all you knotheads do is talk or act but rarely listen. Junghwanie is way ahead of you, you know.”

Ian opens his mouth to retort and then lets it fall shut.

He can listen.

“Mmh, good boy,” Jiyeon smiles, pleased, resting his chin on his palm as he gazes at Ian, eyes circling up in mischief. “We should get together some time, all four of us, you know?”

Ian kisses his teeth and that’s the habit they share, along with a million of others.

“It’s not like that between us,” he mutters.

“Don’t give me that spiel now, Yannie,” Jiyeon says. “It’s okay if you want him, you know. You think I care that he’s a Min? All I care about is whether he makes you happy, you stupid mutt.”

“We just fuck, Ji,” Ian protests weakly. “There is nothing to tell.”

“Well, you’ve been fucking him for a month now. Which is longer than any of your past ‘relationships’ added together. Either I meet him on your terms or I’m just gonna drop by the greenhouse whenever I damn well please.”

With the rug pulled from under his feet, Ian has no choice but to begrudgingly agree to think about it.

Jisoo is dancing in his bedroom. Although dancing is a bit of a stretch, more like - swaying his hips sensually, throwing an occasional simper over his shoulder to where Ian is seated cross-legged on the windowsill, smoking.

His gaze ravenously follows every little movement of the omega’s sinuous body. They fucked all night long and then, had a few extra rounds in the morning, and yet Ian finds he’s not nearly as satisfied as he should be after going at it for hours. Too bad Jisoo has to leave soon for school.

“I thought you had places to be,” Ian says, eyes never leaving Jisoo as he squashes the cigarette he lit, like, a second ago.

Lately, he’s been trying to cut down on smoking. It’s unhealthy, yes, but also - Jisoo doesn’t like it. Not that he’s admitted to anything, but Ian could tell. He wasn’t the first omega to find his habit revolting, but Ian wouldn’t even consider quitting just for anybody, but he can do it for Jisoo, if he asked.

Only Jisoo never asks for anything, not even to put a title on the thing they have between them. In many ways, Jisoo is easy, and for a while, that was exactly the reason why Ian kept coming back - uncomplicated fuckery and homey noms, the two undeniable magnets for alphas, but lately Ian has found that he wants more than that. The thing they have certainly means something to him now and he wants that to mean something to Jisoo, too.

“Can’t wait to get rid of me, alpha?” Jisoo lilts, all tease and no bite. Ian adores it when he’s playful like that - that he’s at ease with him, his impish persona coming through. Ian leans in to grab him by the waist, slowly drawing him in and sucking a kiss on his neck.

“You like to play dirty, kitten?”

“I’m just asking a question, that’s all,” Jisoo demurs, casting a mischievous look from under his lashes. His lips purse into a soft pout that Ian desperately wants to kiss away, but a better idea sneaks into his mind.

Maybe it’s time to speak up.

“Is that what you’re doing, huh?” Ian smiles, cupping Jisoo’s face in his palms. “I can’t wait to press you back into the sheets and make you delirious with want all over again. Is that what you want me to say?”

Jisoo gasps, fingers curling around Ian’s forearms.

“I hate it every time you have to leave. I hate it when you’re away. Out of my sight.”

Ian buries his face into Jisoo’s neck, tasting the unmarked skin over his scent gland.

“I think of you, pup. All the damn time.”

“Alpha,” Jisoo softly sighs.

“I wanna take you out on a date. With my brother and his mate. He wants to meet you,” Ian says. “And I want to show you off. Would you let me do that, darling?”

Jisoo slowly wraps his arms around his waist, face hidden against his chest. He doesn’t say a thing. Ian tucks his chin over the omega’s fluffy head, fingers soothing up and down the curve of his spine. In this quiet moment that follows, Ian finally realizes the sheer magnitude of power he holds over Jisoo. He could break him so easily with one careless word and it’s so unfair he wants to punch himself - he never had the right to take over his heart like that.

He wishes he was the one on the deeper end of love. He wishes he knew what it felt like.

“My mate,” he tests on his lips, struck by the way a shudder seizes up Jisoo’s body.

It takes a while for the omega to answer, his voice quiet and choked-up, on the verge of tears. Ian hopes they’re happy tears. He’ll make sure they’re happy tears. He owes Jisoo that much.

(“Who likes to play dirty now?”)

---

AN: It’s not that Ian doesn’t love him, but Jisoo certainly loves Ian deeper than the other way around. I’m thinking about maybe writing the double date from the pov of Baby G, and maybe I’ll do that. Maybe not. Don’t worry, though, they stayed together and mated eventually.

[fyeahfantasticfour]

What did you mean by "Sue is already a rape survivor"? Did someone else tried to rape her in the past?

Sadly, there was no “tried” to rape her. The Psycho Man DID rape Sue. It happened way back in the 1980s during the infamous Malice arc in Byrne’s run and is one of the many reasons why I despise that story so intensely. Sue did not deserve anything that happens to her in that story. I am not exaggerating when I say that there are few stories in comics that I loathe more than this one.

So, for people who don’t know, in this story, which takes place in Fantastic Four v1 #280-284 (no, I don’t recommend reading it), Sue is turned against her will into Malice, a supervillain, by the Psycho Man. It all starts when she’s separated from the rest of the team and captured by the Psycho Man, who reaches into her soul without her consent (i.e., violates her soul the way a body would be violated during a physical rape) and inverts all of her emotions, thus creating the Malice persona. You have probably seen people who don’t really understand (or, I dunno, maybe they don’t care) that the Malice persona is Sue actively in the process of being raped posting panels of her in this costume to make fun of it:

But, really, costume choices aside, there is nothing funny about what’s going on here. For Sue, it was, I’m sure, the most traumatizing moment of her life, and that is saying something.

Further discussion of rape, coercion, and violence against women beneath the cut.

Malice, I should probably explain, is the inversion of all of Sue’s thoughts and feelings – so Sue’s deep love for Reed, for instance, is turned into Malice’s equally intense hatred of him, Sue’s desire to protect Johnny becomes Malice’s desire to harm him, Sue’s kindness becomes Malice’s cruelty, Sue’s knowledge that Johnny and Reed both respect her greatly becomes Malice’s conviction that they don’t, etc. The Psycho Man takes advantage of Malice’s hatred for Sue’s family and turns her loose on them, ordering her to kill them all: 

Sue nearly does, too. Remember that she, as Reed brings up in this same issue, is more powerful than the rest of the team put together. This is what she does to Reed when she finds him alone on the roof of Avengers Mansion:

And then when Johnny shows up, realizes what’s happening, and tries to snap Sue out of it by appealing to her love for him, he gets swatted aside like a fly by Malice and knocked unconscious:

Reed very reluctantly realizes what he has to do in order to snap her out of it: deliberately make Sue hate him so that Malice, the inversion, will love him, thus causing all of Sue’s emotions to return to normal. Every time Reed or Johnny were kind to Malice, Sue felt love, which caused Malice to feel hatred. The only way to snap her out of it, Reed realizes, is to make Sue hate him so that Malice will love him. You have probably seen panels of that too (I am…not posting them) – Reed intentionally says misogynistic things to Malice, specifically because he knows Sue dislikes being spoken to that way and thus it will make her angry, and also because he knows that his life, Johnny’s, Matt’s, and Franklin’s (who was just beneath them in Avengers Mansion) and Sue’s salvation all depend on making Sue “really hate” him:

And, yes, this is also when he slaps her. But I want to emphasize that Malice really had EVERY intention of murdering Sue’s entire family while she was under the Psycho Man’s control, and there is nothing Matt and Reed could have done to stop her if Reed had failed. Reed, Johnny, and Matt alone could not have taken Sue in a fight, and the city was burning, the Avengers away on a mission. There was no one to help them. I also…don’t know if I buy that even a full Avengers team could take Sue in a fight if she didn’t care at all about not killing them. If they need to breathe and/or blood to pump through their veins, she could kill them all in less than a minute. And I do mean that she could easily murder an entire Avengers team in less than sixty seconds – she’s neutralized two before. 616 is extremely lucky that Sue’s not evil, is all I’m saying, because there aren’t many people who could take her down. So Reed, Johnny, and Matt all certainly would have died. Johnny was already unconscious and out of the fight by the time Reed (very desperately) tried this final gambit, knowing the whole time that if he failed, they were all dead. 

So Reed was coerced into doing what he did – if someone puts a gun to your head and says, “Make your wife hate you or I will make HER kill you, your brother-in-law, your friend, and your son and also keep raping her until I’m through with her and then I’ll probably kill her too”…that is coercion, and that is what the Psycho Man did to Reed. This is why people who like to take the panel where Reed slaps Sue out of context and call him a misogynist over it make me mad. It’s unfair to say that. He was coerced. He didn’t have a choice. He did not slap her of his own free will. It was either that or do nothing, and just let Sue kill him and the rest of their family (including their 4yo son) and allow Sue to continue being raped until the Psycho Man decided he was done with her. He had no other choice. He did the only thing the story allowed him to do, and I blame Byrne for putting Reed in that position in the first place, not Reed for being in it. 

And, for the record, Reed’s plan does work:

Sue, once she’s free of the Psycho Man’s control, is angry and resentful because Reed, not understanding the full severity of what the Psycho Man did to her, decides that the Beyonder (a cosmic-level threat) takes priority over chasing down the Psycho Man. Which would have been a good call…if the Psycho Man hadn’t raped Sue. But he did. So when Reed asks her what’s going on, she tells him it’s because the Psycho Man raped her. She explicitly calls what the Psycho Man did to her – reaching into her soul without her consent – rape. She even compares it to bodily rape. Sue feels intensely violated, down to the depths of her soul. From Fantastic Four v1 #282: 

Reed believes Sue instantly, is completely supportive of her, and agrees that finding the Psycho Man of course is more important than the Beyonder (who literally was powerful enough to destroy the universe, by the way, but for Reed, his wife comes first – this is what I keep saying. Reed always chooses his family’s wellbeing over the greater good). And then the second half of the story turns into a standard rape-revenge story as she hunts down the Psycho Man to punish him for having raped her:

Which she does, once she catches up to him, by increasing his levels of negative emotions to an unbearable level:

Which we find out much later, in Fantastic Four Unlimited v1 #8, led to the collapse of his autonomic nervous system and left him a paraplegic, wholly dependent on life support to survive. 

After she’s succeeded in getting her revenge, she changes her name to the Invisible Woman because she feels that any youthful innocence she had left was ripped away from her by the Psycho Man when he raped her, and she is a woman now. No longer a girl. 

Yes, Sue changed her name to the Invisible Woman because she was raped, which sends the disturbing message that true womanhood is achieved only when women have passed through the gauntlet of male violence and thus achieved a hard-earned understanding of themselves. To put it bluntly, this story is tasteless and DEEPLY misogynistic. The whole story takes a disconcerting sort of glee in having men violently force women back into their “rightful” places, and fuck Byrne for writing this at all. 

This is also why writers should handle appearances by the Psycho Man and/or Malice tactfully, but few ever do. Most writers, to be fair, don’t seem to really see the story Byrne wrote for what it is. The number of people who think that Malice is the one who voices Sue’s real thoughts – when really in the actual story she’s the total inversion of everything the real Sue thinks and feels – is disconcerting. And most people don’t seem to get that Sue was raped and that’s why she reacts the way she does. Or that Malice is the living embodiment of Sue’s rape.

But, yes. Johnny and Sue are both rape survivors, for the record. Johnny was raped repeatedly over the course of several years. Johnny and Sue also both have been sexually assaulted repeatedly, as has Reed. (I can’t remember Ben ever having been, so. That’s one, at least.) Sharon Ventura, aka a former Ms. Marvel and current She-Thing, was abducted and gang-raped repeatedly over the course of several weeks. Medusa was also raped multiple times. A truly disturbingly high number of FF team members (mostly women) have been raped or sexually assaulted, and I would like it if Marvel stopped doing that, thanks.

[noneya-business-me]

Married life pt.2

Lance was seething, he slammed the door of the cafe open and stormed out to the car. He had driven Keith out to the cafe, but at this point he didn’t care. He could find his own way back into the city. “Shiro’s probably hiding nearby anyways.” He grumbled, putting his sunglasses on and flying out of the parking lot. He took a deep breath trying to calm down before he got to his and Zarkon’s favourite lunch spot. He greeted the valet with a warm smile, handing him the keys to the car. He was escorted inside, right to his table where his husband was patiently waiting. “Hello darling,” Zarkon greeted, rising from his seat and planting a kiss on his cheek. “Hello honey.” Lance greeted back with a matching smile. Zarkon pulled out the seat for Lance to sit in before sitting back down himself. “How was shopping?’ He inquired. “Good as usual. We defiantly have to start tipping Casey, she is a gem.” He laughed, before his eyes narrowed sharply. “How did the meeting go?” He asked cooly. “They agreed to merge with us, as expected.” Zarkon replied with a smirk, “just like you said they would.” Lance’s grin widened. “I’m always right, aren’t I?” “That you are.” He liked being able to show this side. The person that he really was; and the only person he could show and still be loved was his husband. He raised his glass of red wine up to his lips, taking a slow sip. “We have to stay on our toes from now on.” Lance added. “How so?” Zarkon asked, raising a brow. “They’re on to us.” Lance replied, “Or onto you I guess.” If it was even possible Zarkon’s brow raised even higher. “They still think that I have nothing to do with the ‘business’. They think I’m your stupid trophy husband.” He explained, looking at his nails. “I mean it could be an advantage in the long run, but still.” “That’s interesting.” Zarkon stated simply. “It could be because most of my ex friends are on the police force.” He laughed, “They still see me as the person I used to be.” Zarkon chucked lowly. “Anyways I guess they’re close to finding something, because Keith said ‘at this rate I’ll be going down with you’.” Lance stated, taking another sip of wine. “You were talking to him?” Zarkon asked in surprise. “Yeah, I ran into him today while I was shopping.” Lance replied, with a laugh, “basically spilled everything to me.” Zarkon shook his head with a snort. Soon they were done lunch and were heading back to the mansion. Zarkon jumped in the car he had brought to work while Lance followed him back in the Ferrari. Once they reached the front doors the driver was there to take the cars back into the garage. Zarkon waited on the step for him as he bounced up and took his arm. They both walked up the steps and into the house. Suddenly Lance froze in the doorway and looked back out across the large lawn. “What is it Lance?” Zarkon questioned in a whisper. “Something’s not right.” He whispered back, stepping into the front foyer and closing the door. He looked at Zarkon in worry. “I just thought back to what Keith was saying.” Zarkon gave him a questioning look. “He couldn’t have just come here to warm me,” A slight panic took over his tone, “they have something on you.” “Shit.” Realization took over Zarkon’s face. “What do we do?” Lance asked, “I can’t lose you!” Zarkon gently took Lance’s face in his hands and guided them to look up at him. “It’ll be alright.” He cooed, “I promise.” Both their eyes narrowed at the same time. “We have to take matters into our own hands.” Zarkon stated. “I have plenty of favours I can call in.” Lance added pulling a small notebook out of his coat pocket. “Let’s get started.” Zarkon said, opening the door to the study, “We don’t know how much time we have.” Police (POV) They had set up in the local police station, filling the borrowed office with their boxes of case files. “You talked to him today!” Hunk yelled in Keith’s face, “we’re supposed to have zero contact with him.” “I know, I’m sorry. He kind of caught me off guard.” Keith sighed. “Dude, it was the only rule for you and you broke it.” Pidge added, taking a sip from her coffee cup. “I know!’ Keith snapped. “You’re lucky that we’ll have the warrant in our hands in a few hours or you would be screwed.” Pidge giggled. “Then this whole mess will be over with.” “Did the witness show up yet?” Shiro yawned, walking into the office. “Not yet, he should be here soon though.” Keith replied, “he sent me a text saying he was on his way over.” “There’s an officer with him right?” Shiro questioned. “We weren’t in charge of him, so I don’t know.” Hunk replied, ruffling through some of the case papers. “Shit.” Shiro hissed, stepping back into the bullpen, but was surprised to see Officers running out the doors. “What’s going on?” Shiro demanded, grabbing one of the Officer’s arms. “Murder.” He stated, “right in front of the station. We have to get his body out of there before people see.” He followed the stream of people, catching a glimpse of the man. He was the witness that was the key to finally getting Zarkon. “Damn it!” He shouted. He seethed in anger as he slammed the door back into the station. “Call the Judge!” He yelled, “We need that warrant now!” Pidge was already on the phone waiting for them to pick up. Normal (POV) Lance smiled as he hung up the phone. “It’s done.” He stated, “how’s the paper shredding going?” “Very well, thank you.” Zarkon replied, throwing the shredded paper into the fireplace. “My inside guy says the team has a warrant in progress but they still won’t have it for another few hours.” Lance said, “we still have time to leave.” “That would make us look even more suspicious.” Zarkon replied, “we want to maintain that we’re innocent.” Lance sighed heavily, “I’m this close to calling in the family.” He hissed. Zarkon smiled warmly. “This is why I love you,” he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Yeah, Yeah. Whatever.” Lance pouted, “I’m going to go change into my pyjamas.” He yawned loudly going up the stairs to the bedroom and changing into short black shorts and a blue tank top. He glanced out the window as he was coming down the stairs, seeing multiple bright headlights headed towards there secluded mansion. His eyes widened in sudden realization. “ZARKON!” He screamed, “THEY’RE COMING!” He stumbled out of the study and up the stairs to where Lance was staring out the window. He looked at Lance who’s face was creased in worry. He grabbed his arm lightly and guided him into the bedroom. “Just pretend we’ve been asleep.” He whispered, using the automatic app on his phone to turn off the downstairs lights. Lance shook beside him as they heard the multiple vehicles pull up outside the doors, and the loud scrape of feet on the gravel. He stilled as a smirk made its way onto his face. He leaned into Zarkon’s ear and whispered something before with one loud bang the doors were forced open and the yelling started.  Orders were being shouted and soon enough loud voices were coming up the stairs towards the bedroom. He screamed as the door was forced open, and the lights turned on. HIs husband was dragged from the bed and down the stairs before he could even process that this was actually happening. “You’re not allowed to do that!” He screamed, latching onto one of the armed officers. “Stay back!” He grunted elbowing Lance’s face. He fell to the ground clutching his nose that immediately started gushing blood. His room started being torn apart. “Stop!” He screamed, as he jumped to his feet. He ran from the room and down the stairs still holding his face, when he could hear Zarkon shouting at the Officers. He stumbled down the stairs nearly falling, blood dripping on the clean marble. His house was being ripped apart. In the study papers were flying everywhere, he hoped Zarkon had been able to burn everything. The furniture was being ripped apart looking for any sign of weapons. He fell to his knees with a loud sob, he could barely hear the desperate yell from Zarkon. All too suddenly there were hands on him. He looked up to see the familiar face of Keith. He narrowed his eyes dangerously, a face so full of hate and malice took over. “Don’t. Touch. Me.” He hissed, getting to his feet and gaining the attention of the rest of the team. “What happened to your face?” Hunk asked. “One of your fucking police buddies elbowed me in the face!” He screamed. “Lance, you need to calm down. We’re only here to help.” Shiro stated. “Help? Are you serious?” He snapped back. He spread his arms wide, motioning to the chaos around him. “Does this look like you’re helping me? People are literally tearing my life apart! My house is destroyed, my face got bashed in, and my husband is in the back of a police car!” His gaze shifted fully onto Keith. “I asked you specifically not to ruin my life Keith.” He growled, “Specifically.” “What happens now?” He asked, his nose still dripping, “Do I stay here? Do I go with him?” Keith looked down at the ground in shame. “Answer me!” He yelled, “I may be pissed, but I’m still confused.” “Just come with me.” Shiro said, grabbing his arm, and dragging him outside. “I don’t have shoes on!” Lance yelled, as the stones dug into his feet. “If you’re going to act like a brat, I’m going to treat you like a brat.” Shiro snapped, slamming him down on the front of the squad car. He quickly search him, and cuffed his hands behind his back. “I didn’t do anything!” He wailed, “You’re the ones that assaulted me!” “Shiro, what are you doing?” Hunk hissed, “we don’t have any charges on him.” Lance smirked his face still facing the cop car. “You c-can’t d-do this!” He sobbed, when Shiro ignored the others and threw him roughly into the van with  Zarkon. “Lance, darling. What happened to your face?” He asked with concern. “T-they h-hit me.” He wailed sitting up. He gave them one last glance as the doors were shut and they were left alone again. His sobbing immediately ceased and he sat on the bench next to him, resting his head on his shoulder. “All according to plan.”