#I don't know what I've done wrong. I don't know why I'm so replaceable to people. I don't know I don't know I don't know but it really hurts

[ryebunny]

Vent in tags because I have nobody to talk to but need to get some feelings out. Sorry. Just ignore please ♡

[alfheimr]

My Favorite Cheap Art Trick: Gradient Maps and Blending Modes

i get questions on occasion regarding my coloring process, so i thought i would do a bit of a write up on my "secret technique." i don't think it really is that much of a secret, but i hope it can be helpful to someone. to that end:

this is one of my favorite tags ive ever gotten on my art. i think of it often. the pieces in question are all monochrome - sort of.

the left version is the final version, the right version is technically the original. in the final version, to me, the blues are pretty stark, while the greens and magentas are less so. there is some color theory thing going on here that i dont have a good cerebral understanding of and i wont pretend otherwise. i think i watched a youtube video on it once but it went in one ear and out the other. i just pick whatever colors look nicest based on whatever vibe im going for.

this one is more subtle, i think. can you tell the difference? there's nothing wrong with 100% greyscale art, but i like the depth that adding just a hint of color can bring.

i'll note that the examples i'll be using in this post all began as purely greyscale, but this is a process i use for just about every piece of art i make, including the full color ones. i'll use the recent mithrun art i made to demonstrate. additionally, i use clip studio paint, but the general concept should be transferable to other art programs.

for fun let's just start with Making The Picture. i've been thinking of making this writeup for a while and had it in mind while drawing this piece. beyond that, i didn't really have much of a plan for this outside of "mithrun looks down and hair goes woosh." i also really like all of the vertical lines in the canary uniform so i wanted to include those too but like. gone a little hog wild. that is the extent of my "concept." i do not remember why i had the thought of integrating a shattered mirror type of theme. i think i wanted to distract a bit from the awkward pose and cover it up some LOL but anyway. this lack of planning or thought will come into play later.

note 1: the textured marker brush i specifically use is the "bordered light marker" from daub. it is one of my favorite brushes in the history of forever and the daub mega brush pack is one of the best purchases ive ever made. highly recommend!!!

note 2: "what do you mean by exclusion and difference?" they are layer blending modes and not important to the overall lesson of this post but for transparency i wanted to say how i got these "effects." anyway!

with the background figured out, this is the point at which i generally merge all of my layers, duplicate said merged layer, and Then i begin experimenting with gradient maps. what are gradient maps?

the basic gist is that gradient maps replace the colors of an image based on their value.

so, with this particular gradient map, black will be replaced with that orangey red tone, white will be replaced with the seafoamy green tone, etc. this particular gradient map i'm using as an example is very bright and saturated, but the colors can be literally anything.

these two sets are the ones i use most. they can be downloaded for free here and here if you have csp. there are many gradient map sets out there. and you can make your own!

you can apply a gradient map directly onto a specific layer in csp by going to edit>tonal correction>gradient map. to apply one indirectly, you can use a correction layer through layer>new correction layer>gradient map. honestly, correction layers are probably the better way to go, because you can adjust your gradient map whenever you want after creating the layer, whereas if you directly apply a gradient map to a layer thats like. it. it's done. if you want to make changes to the applied gradient map, you have to undo it and then reapply it. i don't use correction layers because i am old and stuck in my ways, but it's good to know what your options are.

this is what a correction layer looks like. it sits on top and applies the gradient map to the layers underneath it, so you can also change the layers beneath however and whenever you want. you can adjust the gradient map by double clicking the layer. there are also correction layers for tone curves, brightness/contrast, etc. many such useful things in this program.

let's see how mithrun looks when we apply that first gradient map we looked at.

gadzooks. apologies for eyestrain. we have turned mithrun into a neon hellscape, which might work for some pieces, but not this one. we can fix that by changing the layer blending mode, aka this laundry list of words:

some of them are self explanatory, like darken and lighten, while some of them i genuinely don't understand how they are meant to work and couldn't explain them to you, even if i do use them. i'm sure someone out there has written out an explanation for each and every one of them, but i've learned primarily by clicking on them to see what they do.

for the topic of this post, the blending mode of interest is soft light. so let's take hotline miamithrun and change the layer blending mode to soft light.

here it is at 100% opacity. this is the point at which i'd like to explain why i like using textured brushes so much - it makes it very easy to get subtle color variation when i use this Secret Technique. look at the striation in the upper right background! so tasty. however, to me, these colors are still a bit "much." so let's lower the opacity.

i think thats a lot nicer to look at, personally, but i dont really like these colors together. how about we try some other ones?

i like both of these a lot more. the palettes give the piece different vibes, at which point i have to ask myself: What Are The Vibes, Actually? well, to be honest i didn't really have a great answer because again, i didn't plan this out very much at all. however. i knew in my heart that there was too much color contrast going on and it was detracting from the two other contrasts in here: the light and dark values and the sharp and soft shapes. i wanted mithrun's head to be the main focal point. for a different illustration, colors like this might work great, but this is not that hypothetical illustration, so let's bring the opacity down again.

yippee!! that's getting closer to what my heart wants. for fun, let's see what this looks like if we change the blending mode to color.

i do like how these look but in the end they do not align with my heart. oh well. fun to experiment with though! good to keep in mind for a different piece, maybe! i often change blending modes just to see what happens, and sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. i very much cannot stress enough that much of my artistic process is clicking buttons i only sort of understand. for fun.

i ended up choosing the gradient map on the right because i liked that it was close to the actual canary uniform colors (sorta). it's at an even lower opacity though because there was Still too much color for my dear heart.

the actual process for this looks like me setting my merged layer to soft light at around 20% opacity and then clicking every single gradient map in my collection and seeing which one Works. sometimes i will do this multiple times and have multiple soft light and/or color layers combined.

typically at this point i merge everything again and do minor contrast adjustments using tone curves, which is another tool i find very fun to play around with. then for this piece in particular i did some finishing touches and decided that the white border was distracting so i cropped it. and then it's done!!! yay!!!!!

this process is a very simple and "fast" way to add more depth and visual interest to a piece without being overbearing. well, it's fast if you aren't indecisive like me, or if you are better at planning.

let's do another comparison. personally i feel that the hint of color on the left version makes mithrun look just a bit more unwell (this is a positive thing) and it makes the contrast on his arm a lot more pleasing to look at. someone who understands color theory better than i do might have more to say on the specifics, but that's honestly all i got.

just dont look at my layers too hard. ok?

[raineydays411]

My Fathers' Daughter pt 13

Hello everyone! Can I just say thank you to everyone for the love and support! Thank you everyone for sticking by me while I took a break. Thank you everyone for the kind messages and ideas. I'm the type of person that needs positive reassurance so really, it's you guys that are the reason I returned to writing.

For the first time in months you felt at peace.

Ironically, it was when you were shoved in a stinky backseat of a dirty taxi. But you were in a stinky taxi with people you truly love.

And Dopinder.

But even he's better than being in that house right now. Anything truly is.

"Hey" A soft voice breaks your thoughts, you turn from where you're looking out the window.

Peter was gazing at you with concern in his eyes. He had his own reservations about coming to get you, that's why Wade had decided to kidnap him. But seeing you, practically throw yourself into him and cry?! He didn't need any more convincing than that.

One thing Y/n Stark does not do is let people see her cry.

"Are you okay?" He asks, knowing that you're not but he knows that you won't tell him if he doesn't ask.

You take a look into his eyes, seeing concern. Then from the corner of your eye you see Wade turn his head an inch, trying to subtly listen in without giving away the fact that he cares about you.

"I'm.." You pause, feeling a knot in your throat, " I'm just really craving a burger."

"What the dick?!" Wade screams from the front, startling all of you in the car, and causing Dopinder to swerve, " We came here for emotional support goddamn it, let us support your emotions!!"

You chuckle at the outburst, mood momentarily lifting, " You can support me by getting me something to eat outside this taxi. It reeks back here...no offense Dopi"

"Non taken Ms. Stark, I am well aware of the unpleasant scents in the back."

Dopinder makes a stop at what looks like a local burger joint in the city , allowing you and Peter to take a breath of fresh air.

Or at least as fresh as Gotham city air could be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at the Manor, Christine and Bruce are having a long overdue conversation about you and her relationship.

" I just don't understand where everything went so wrong" Christine cried, face held in her hands," I just don't"

"Perhaps when you stopped visiting her when we adopted Dick" Bruce said in a semi sarcastic semi serious voice.

Christine shot a glare to her husband, " I'm glad you find the destruction of my relationship with my daughter funny Bruce, I really do."

Bruce sighs from where he's standing, " I don't find it amusing one bit, but Christine you have to admit this situation is your fault."

"I know it is! Believe me I know" Christine shouts, " These last few months, all I've been reminded is that it's my fault!"

"But where is your accountability?" Bruce asks, " I don't hold what you did against you because it's not my place. The kids don't because quite frankly, this hasn't affected them except for Cassie who thinks you're replacing her, and Damian, who sees you sad and believes Y/n is the sole cause of it."

Christine sighs, the few months you have been in the home, she has noticed Cassie's jealousy towards you and the resentment for the situation. She's done her best to reassure her that she has enough love for the two of you girls, but she still insisted on being as far away from you as possible. Damian...Damian is young and perceptive but difficult so she isn't so worried about him.

"If Y/n just spent time with them--"

"It isn't her responsibility to reassure your children that she isn't taking you away from them. Hell Christine, it isn't her responsibility to make anything easier for you." Bruce says impatiently, " I have been holding my tongue because you're my wife above anything and I am on your side. But being a husband and on your side means that I have a responsibility to tell you when you are wrong."

"Then tell me Bruce, tell me what I'm doing wrong. Please beacause every move I make, I just mess things up." Christine cries, genuienly asking for her husbands help

Bruce looks Christine in the eye, " Well first, you have to stop forcing your motherhood on that poor girl"

He holds a hand up before Christine can say anything, " I know that biologically you are her mother, but you know as well as I do that biological relation has no meaning."

Christine nods, allowing Bruce to continue

"The child you knew is not the young lady you want to get to know." Bruce says sternly, " She has life experiences that you were not a part of, and most of all she's not looking for a mother, Christine she has one. It's just not you."

Christine bursts into tears, the weight of that statement hitting her heart. Bruce gathers her in his arms.

"You need to get to know Y/n not as the child you left behind but as Y/n. That's what all of us need to do."

Christine weeps silently in her husbands chest, truly absorbing his words.

She knows he's right. He usually is.

But it hurts her. She truly has to acknowledge the one thing she has ever been ashamed about. The one thing that she has been repressing and repressing all these years.

That she abandoned you.

She abandoned you. She abandoned you when you were six and she didn't show up to the mothers day dance.

She abandoned you when you were eight and she promise dthat she would take you to get your ears pierced and she didn't show up because of a phone call.

And she abandoned you when you were nine, and she adopted Dick.

"What I don't think I understand is why?" Bruce asked quietly.

All these years, she said it was because she was needed more at the manor rather than in New York. But why did she really?

"Why?" Christine repeats quietly, " I..."

Why did she? What on earth possessed her to do the one thing she promised she'd never do the day you were born.

"I don't know." She says, " I.. spent years, hiding this huge secret from you. Years taking back and forth trips from here to New York, pretending she didn't exist or pretending like you didn't. I just..."

Bruce hums, urging her to continue

" And seeing the disappointment every time I left and didn't take her or disappointment from Tony that I didn't choose them. " She teared up, she hadn't even thought about the pain she put that man through, " Then it was the disappointment from Dick everytime I left. It got too.."

"Too hard." Bruce finished for Christine,

" Yeah," Christine sighed, " I just wanted to stop all the lying and the double lives, but by the time it became too much...it was too deep and I was scared I'd lose it all."

Bruce stayed quiet holding his wife, "I would've hoped that you had enough faith in me to tell me"

Christine scoffed, " Please, do you really believe that at that time you would've forgiven me? Before Damian?"

Bruce sighed, " I guess not."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the conversation between Bruce and Christine went on, the kids were having one of their own.

"I don't understand what's so good about her anyway" Cass mumbles, " All she's done since she's been here is cause trouble"

"Yeah like any of us made Ma's life easy since we got here?" Jason spits back defending you, " Dick you didn't even talk to Ma because of your fight with Bruce, I died, Tim didn't even consider her a mother for years, Damian..is damian and hated her for months, plus is a product of Bruce cheating, and you Cass, you almost killed her before you became family."

Everyone stayed silent as Jason basically read them to filth.

"Why?" Damian asks quietly, " Why does everyone like that girl so much?"

"She's just had a hard go of it Damian, just like all of us." Dick said softly, " Think about how you felt when your mother stopped coming around. When you came here and didn't know anyone."

Damian stayed quiet.

"I know you love Mom, I do too" Dick continued, " But the hostility towards Y/n has to end. From all of us."

They stood quiet, letting the words sink in.

"I have been quite pleasant towards her actually" Jason said smugly

"Yeah cause you think with your dick and not your brain" Tim said smartly, only to receive a slap on the back of his head.

"That's my sister you fucking idiot" Jason says angrily.

Dick smiled, glad that at least one person was truly and genuinely on your side in this house, even if it's not him.

" How about we take her out?" Dick says, " Both her and Mom need some space, there's no point in her staying in that room all day and night."

Jason nods," Yeah, that's actually a good idea."

The two oldest sons rise, about to head to you room when Damian speaks up

"You won't find her there."

The boys pause and look at him

"What did you do to her you demon?" Jason says suspiciously

Damian rolls his eyes, " I've done nothing of the sort, but I saw her sneak out and leave in a taxi with an Indian man, a man in a red suit and unfortunate looking face, and a teenager in hello kitty sleeping pants."

Silence.

"Okay, if you're having a stroke please let me know so I can take you to the hospital." Tim said looking concerned.

Damian rolled his eyes again, " She left."

Jason was already barging into your room not even bothering to knock, seeing your room empty and the window open.

"Fuck."

Dick raced in after him seeing the empty room

"Well fuck."

They look at eachother, wondering who was going to tell their mother that you were gone but it was actually Damian that suggested

"Perhaps we should go after her? Mother and Father seemed rather preoccupied at the moment."

Jason looked at Dick and said, " She couldn't have gotten too far."

"Well, it has been a couple hours since she left." Damian adds

"Hours?!" Dick shouts, " Damian why didn't you say anything?"

"I don't like her." Damian rolls his eyes.

"Where's Y/n?" a voice asks

All heads turned to the doorway, seeing their father standing there.

"Um... about that."

"Find her, and you all better hope she's okay."

Everyone scrambled, either to put their suits on or to just make it out of the house.

He said that with his Batman voice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back with you and the red team, as Wade took to calling you all, you all were eating burgers in the parking lot of the now closed burger joint.

" So are you going to tell us what happend or what?" Wade ask with food falling from his stuffed mouth.

You and Peter look on with disgust.

"What?" Wade asks, " Go on and tell us about your mommy issues."

You roll your eyes and look away, missing the look Peter gives to Wade for being to crass.

You get lost in thought, the argument still fresh on your mind.

It made you so angry.

Why? Why did she hide those emails?

The one thing you wanted most in this whole situation was to go home. You missed your father, your mother, the team. Your family.

Instead, she made you believe that your father just forgot about you and your family didn't miss you.

While you knew logically that was impossible, you still stood up late at night because of the doubts creeping in. You cried, longing to hear your father croon rock music while he was tinkering with something, or the soft voice of your mother as she handled some business. You missed the smell of the training room and the sound of Steve teasing whoever he chose to tourture train that day. You missed FRIDAY. The tech. Your life.

"What happened in there" Peter asked softly.

You maintain eye contact with him for about a second before looking away, feeling ashamed with your emotional state.

"I couldn't take it anymore" You said softly, "These people...they weren't... they weren't mean to me or anything but I didn't belong there."

You take a pause then continue, " It's like... I had no purpose there. You know? At home, I help dad with whatever he needs, I helped mom with the business, hell I could just take a step outside. But here? I'm either in my room or being snuck out by Jason for a few hours. I can't go into a room without killing the happy family vibe they have going on. I'm just..."

You choke up, the knot in your throat growing, "I'm just a reminder of the past. Of the life she didn't want."

Peter's eyes soften even more, he reached out a comforting hand.

"I have to be there, while she and her family are happy then I walk in and it's like I'm either a ghost or a pest." You cry tears falling from your eye, " I feel so unwanted. I've never felt this way in my life."

"Didn't your mom abandon you?" Wade asks, getting an elbow to the side by Dopinder.

That comment causes you to cry more, but before Peter can make a move Wade actually pulls you in a hug.

"Alright Alright" Wade says, " Look kid, obviously you're happy there, so how about we go find those asshole that are looking for you and take them out ourselves?"

You sniff and look up at him, " What?"

"Yeah. That's the whole reason you're here. So lets kill those motherfucker and you can go home and forget this shit hole of a city. Seriously it's disgusting here."

You chuckle wetly, " It is gross here. I thought New york was bad"

The four of you laugh, the mood finally lifting.

But good moments never last forever.

Peter's head jerks up, face shifting from amusement to concern

"Guys there's something wro-" Peter gets cut off.

"How about we make it easier for you, now you don't have to look for us." A voice says, you aren't able to see it before you feel Wades body jerk and suddenly there's a pain in your arm.

You look down and see a dart, and you're barely able to make out the blue and red dots on the building across the street before darkness consumes you and you hit the ground.

[carto0ncritter]

Abusive fictional fathers - Robotnik vs. Stolas

I won't be talking about Coconuts here since he's not on screen that much, but know that I feel sorry for the stuff he's been through, poor guy

Robotnik ⮕ Scratch & Grounder

Like... he literally only created these two to use and abuse them and that's crystal clear

When I say Robotnik is an abusive pos, this is what I mean (and this is just some of the physical abuse, don't even get me started on the emotional):

...Okay, that last picture was the last straw. Robotnik's thrist for power has officially outweighted Scratch and Grounder's "value." He felt 0 remorse for throwing them into the lava. Keep in mind, he THOUGHT HE HAD KILLED THEM and DIDN'T CARE AT ALL. Thankfully they were fine. And no the fact that they're robots doesn't make it any less wrong

If you're willing to sacrifice your children for a powerful artefact, then I'm (NOT) sorry to say this, but you're a heartless pos and deserve to be held accountable for your actions. If I were in Scratch and Grounder's shoes, I would have ran the hell away right then and there and found home elsewhere

However, unlike with Stolas and Octavia, at least the narrative doesn't try to convince us that Robotnik loves his sons. Because if he did, he would have tried to change his behavior. Or better, he wouldn't have abused them IN THE FIRST PLACE! AT ALL! No matter what he had gone through! I'm not denying that his mom was a pos to him just like he's a pos to scratch and grounder, but i refuse to see this as an excuse. he should have tried his best to break the cycle of abuse

*sigh* Now I've gotta talk about that stupid bird man... let's just get this over with.

Stolas ⮕ Octavia

Stolas is shown to have been there for Via in her childhood. although we never see them bond over anything, connect emotionally with each other or spend quality time together, we've only got this one nightmare scene. this was the only time stolas was shown to care about octavia

He did his best to calm her down and make her feel safe, then proceeded to break his promise for a booty call. For a childhood "friend" that his father bought for him 25 years ago.

And you're telling me how Stolas didn't realize that bringing Blitzø along in Loo Loo Land is uh... a bad idea that will make his daughter feel even worse?

I HATE the excuse that Stolas was "just clueless." Because anyone with the tiniest bit of common sense would come to the same conclusion: flirting with your booty call in front of your daughter who is a minor and going through emotional hell that happened because you cheated on her mother makes you a horrible and selfish father.

Even worse is that Stolas doesn't learn his lesson and once again neglects Octavia. Stolas is too busy hating his ex wife and gushing over his abuse victim that he can't even be bothered to look for his daughter himself, and instead Loona has to be the one to go find her. And then she literally tells Via how her dad's trying his best and how she should cut him some slack. No. No she shouldn't. Octavia was right to think that Stolas hates Stella more than he loves her because that's what his actions show.

He can hug her all he wants and promise to do better but he has done nothing to even TRY to be better for this poor girl.

Not to mention that Loona is a hypocrite. Blitzø has always been doing his best to be a good dad to her, and she thanks him for saving her life by being a complete bitch. It's been five. Fucking. Years. Of unconditional love and support from Blitzø's side. And what does he get in return? A kick in the balls. Blitzø also got beat up by her and hit with the "if I'm so terrible why don't you replace me" after he rightfully called her out and you're trying to tell me Blitzø was the one in the wrong and how this isn't abusive huh ok then whatever ya say

I won't talk about the upcoming episode much. I honestly just don't have the strength anymore. But to make it as short as possible, Stolas is gonna be treated like an uwu poor sad gay boi and once again choose Blitzø, the guy he r*ped, over his own child.

If you check out the leaked story boards for s2 ep12, you'll see how disgusting it is that Via is spitting nothing but facts and yet she'll be demonized by the writers, Stolas lovers and Stolitz shippers. Just...

Please stop lying, dude. Just stop. You shattered her entire life and neglected her for a guy you abused and never got to know on a level that's deeper than sex. No wonder Via thinks he doesn’t love her anymore. The line above gives me the same vibe as THIS line also they made Stolas not only ACT like a guy who victimizes himself but LOOK that way too

STOP LYING. JUST SHUT UP.

I hate this self-pitying hypocrite sm.

And yeah, I get it: he was put in an arranged marriage (this was clearly a retcon, but whatever floats viv's boat) despite being gay and was sheltered and never had friends, but those are explanations for his behavior, not excuses.

Oh and, to anyone who thinks otherwise: Emotional neglect is a form of abuse.

Closing Thoughts

One important thing that I noticed with both Scratch and Grounder and Octavia, is how none of them feel at home with their fathers. A reliable way to know whether you've failed as a parent or not is to see how your behavior affects your kid(s). How does your behavior make them feel?

Let's see here... *checks notes*

Octavia says how Stolas ruined their family, not Stella and in ep12 she's finally gonna call him out on his bullshit thank god. but unfortunately the toxic gay ship will once again be a priority because it's gay

Scratch and Grounder are terrified of Robotnik's wrath, he constantly makes them feel useless and unwanted, but at the same time, they have no problem betraying him both of them always come back to him, just like how Blitzø doesn't leave his abuser because he wants to feel "loved" and "needed" for once even though Stolas treats him like shit

So yeah, if you made your kid(s) feel this way, you've officially failed as a father.

[neerons]

Some of Clavis Lelouch’s best quotes + Cyran's bonus quotes

"Tell me, Emma, what do you think is the best way to wake someone who's really bad at waking up? (...) That's right, you stab them." (—Clavis talking about Chevalier to Emma)

"Finding such a handsome man in your room is enough to leave anyone breathless. Take your time. I know I'm easy on the eyes. (...) Oh, nice reaction! There's nothing like a good AHHHHH to get me in the mood."

“I didn’t do anything. But next time, don’t be intimidated by these status-crazed nobles. You don’t owe them anything—not even a smile. If someone looks down on you, look down on them in return. Otherwise, your self-worth will start to plummet. Never abandon your self-respect just to calm the situation. I know you’re a wonderful person—I wouldn’t have chosen you as my wife if not.”

"You succumbed to delusion."

"You weren't paying any attention to me at all. I got so lonely, I almost died!"

"...I want to make love to you."

"I'll tell you a secret about Chevalier. You want to know right? I bet you do. (...) He likes romance novels, but the reason for that is... Me. (...) One day, I secretly added to his pile of books... I put a book that boasted its dewy, spicy romance in the pile."

"Haha! When you're as handsome as I am, you look good no matter what state you're in. You just need better understanding of aesthetics." (—Clavis to the "Obsidianite soldier")

"Haha! You don't need to apologize. Who says only kids are allowed to be bouncy? What's wrong with adults being genuine about loving the things they love?"

"Oh, the things you say! Don't you realize you threaten to unleash the beast that hides behind this gentleman's visage?" (—Clavis' thoughts about Emma)

"What a fool I was to think I was done falling in love with you. The depths I could fall for you seem endless."

“We can do it on the table, or by the windowsill again, if you like. Ah, but I don’t recommend the floor—not unless you’re into that.”

"I would never allow my lovely fiancee to live a life of fear. And so I must take it upon myself to indulge her in a life of joy." (—Clavis' thoughts about Emma)

"Wait, wait, wait! (...) Chevalier, you cannot possibly be trying to replace the words 'I love you' with that one kiss. (...) Why else would Emma have dressed up so beautifully? It's all so she can hear you say those three words! (...) Yes, not all things need to be said, but there is a purpose in giving words to feelings. That's how you can bring them into the real world. Chev, you can't let Emma guess how you truly feel forever. Just tell her. (...) The average person can't read minds like you do. Don't assume that Emma knows everything just because you do." (—Clavis to Chevalier, in Chevalier's route)

"I'm charming, aren't I?"

"Here you are, alone in a secret room with a handsome prince. Why are you only interested in those lifeless husks? (...) That's a little offensive, you know."

"Haha! Go to hell." (—Clavis to Chevalier)

"Goodness, I've never visited that bookstore, and to think it was hiding a gem all this time..." (—Clavis' thoughts about Emma)

"Dear me, it looks like they started running the second they spotted me. Haha! That's optimistic of them. " (—Clavis talking about Yves and Licht to Emma)

"You could at least call it artistic. My handwriting conceals talent that would surpass that of a genius artist. (...) It's readable. So long as you take the time to decode it! Haha!" (—Clavis to Jin)

"Ah... Hahaha! I can't believe you headbutted me! You should've slapped me, at least."

"There's no rule that says you have to drink alcohol once you come of age. That said, it might be more romantic to let you get drunk and then take care of you until you sober up. Wait here, I'll just get some—"

"Of course, I'm not trying to criticize your own personal standards for good and evil. But throughout our lives, we're constantly being confronted by our perceptions of good and evil. And there are times when we might regret it later, if we decide to be critical of something simply because 'it's evil'. Our own individual standards for good and evil may not always be aligned with the kingdom's standards for good and evil. And if that happens, wouldn't you want to remain true to your own standards? To what you believe is good and right?"

"So you're comfortable drinking. I'll keep that in mind." (—Clavis' thoughts about Emma)

"(...) I'm well aware that of all the princes, I was the one most loved by his mother. Although I suppose it's not really a surprise, given how adorable and cute I was. (...) Haha! Why are you apologizing? There's no rule that says we can't talk about the deceased. And there's no need to feel guilty, either. I'm not some silly child who gets all worked up just from thinking about her." (—Clavis talking about his mother to Emma)

"I love drawing attention to myself, you know that. I wanted everyone in the palace talking about me, so I made it seem as if I'd gone missing." (—Clavis to Sariel)

"...You're surprisingly sweet on Emma, aren't you?" (—Clavis to Chevalier)

"Well obviously, because I like rabbits. And from what I know of rabbits... They may seem aloof, but they're actually very sweet and loving, and if you're lucky, they'll even let you see that side of them. I think they're adorable. And despite being delicate and easily frightened, they won't run from anything—they'll stand their ground and put on a brave face. I can't think of any other creature that instills in me such an urge to protect them. You see? Everything about them is lovable." (—Clavis talking about Emma secretly)

"But that's why Rhodolite is so well-balanced. If we all agreed with Leon, the kingdom would constantly be in danger from outside. If we all agreed with Chevalier, it would end up a dictatorship."

"You're about the only person who willingly visits the brutal beast's lair."

"Just so we're clear, this doesn't even count as a setback to me. I've tasted defeat countless times at the hands of a brother more beastly than anyone in Obsidian. I've never once made the right choice. I'm a loser, constantly making mistakes, and constantly being laughed at for them. (...) When you fail, it's easy to give up. It's easy to think your ideas are wrong, and yield to the right choice. But this is what I do. Every time I fail, I get up again, and I fight even harder, so that next time, maybe I won't fail. I don't care about what's right for the kingdom. I stay true to what's right for me, and that's the only way I've found any meaning in my life. Even if what I believe to be right and true is actually wrong, and even if I'm called evil and wicked for doing what I do... I'll fight against the brutal beast's methods with everything I have in me. And I'm not going to die until I've made him kneel before me, and accepted that my beliefs are just as righteous as his are. (...) And since I've spent my life tasting nothing but defeat, I think I can declare this with some certainty. So long as you go on living, you'll never really be a loser. Because there is no such thing. Even if you lost this time, you just have to win next time to be the winner. And if nothing else, you'd be able to die a prouder man than you will now. (...) Today's failures will lead you to tomorrow's hope. Always, as long as you don't give up. And that's why I'm going to get up and try again. What about you? Are you going to die a dog's death here?" (—Clavis to the "Obsidianite soldier")

"What a shame... Were my hands not bound right now... I'd already be making love to you."

"Haha! Not a chance. I adore her." (—Clavis denying disliking Emma to Gilbert)

"I've always tried to be a gentleman, and live by the tenet that women are free to come and go as they please. But with you, I find myself wondering whether I should be using handcuffs, rope, or maybe a strong net."

"All right, then, I guess I'll just have to slip a few weapons into your luggage to help celebrate your departure. At the very least, I've already included a shovel." (—Clavis helping Emma escape from Obsidian)

"My brother is an absolute genius when it comes to angering people in just about every way possible. He outclasses us all in that, too." (—Clavis talking about Chevalier)

"Dearie me, don't tell me you're here for a secret tryst with my brother? I never imagined this unsociable beast might finally have his sexual awakening—" (—Clavis talking about Chevalier to Emma)

"(...) It's a water jet device designed to keep you cool in sultry summer evenings. I made it expressly for you. Isn't it brilliant?"

"The only people he could hold a proper conversation with were those who faced him head-on." (—Clavis' thoughts about Chevalier)

"(...) I don't care about me, but I don't think it's appropriate to be pointing guns at a woman, do you?" (—Clavis protecting Emma from 'someone')

"You really are gorgeous... I'm so captivated by you... that I feel I might forget how to be a gentleman for good."

"You could tie me down any day, my lovely fiancee."

"Ah. Hello, insecurity. I had not missed you at all. If I want to make my lovely fiancee happy, I'm going to need to start being more confident." (—Clavis' thoughts)

"You're so beautiful when you're watching something with rapt attention."

"How could you treat your kind little brother like this, when he worked himself to the bone trying to keep your library nice and tidy? I'm going to tell Emma on you." (—Angry Clavis to Chevalier)

"Well, first, I'd love to be able to pamper you in the bathroom. I want to wash your hair and gently exfoliate your skin so it's super soft. (...) Next, I want to hire a famous artist to draw a portrait of you than I can hang on my wall. I want one so big it'll cover the entire thing. Maybe I'll even get a bunch of you drawn. Seeing lots of you while I work would be good for motivation. (...) Also, I would love it if we could change up how we say good night. Every day, before bed, I want us to say 'I love you' instead of just 'good night'. (...) Oh, it's also my dream to go on a trip around the world with you! I just want to explore new sights with you and kiss and cuddle you in new places."

Cyran's bonus quotes:

"(...) Prince Clavis lies incessantly, so feel free to ignore everything he says. (...) Everything. You've no need to be worried about his feelings, or even keep him company. And it might be in your best interests to refuse to eat any of this." (—Cyran talking about Clavis and his cooking to Emma, in front of Clavis)

"You're still half-asleep, aren't you? You're a disgrace." (—Cyran to Clavis)

"When we finally catch up to him, I think we should team up and give him a good scolding!" (—Cyran talking about Clavis to Emma)

"Since you left me behind like that, I've decided to hold a grudge against you forever. (...) Do it again and I'll throttle you, master or no. Just so you know." (—Cyran to Clavis)

"My Lady, I'm afraid that Prince Clavis's plan is truly stupid. A prince in his right mind would never even plan such a thing, and the average person would recoil in shock at the very idea of it."

"Prince Clavis, you can't just go casually tossing your head in her lap like that. My Lady, you're more than welcome to slap him awake at this point."

"(...) despite all that, there was one fool prince who stormed into the camp where the prisoners were being held. Yep, I'm talking about the idiot prince currently sleeping like a babe in your lap."

"From the way he acts, it's easy to mistake him for a fool and a scoundrel, but... at heart, he's the kindest, most compassionate man I've ever met." (—Cyran talking about Clavis to Emma)

"...So where is he, this handsome man? (...) ...You're a total mess right now, you realize. You look dreadful. Want me to get you a mirror?" (—Cyran to Clavis)

"My Lady, I truly am sorry, but... I've been ordered to inform you that, and I quote, 'your prince is in grave danger and needs you to rescue him! Ahaha'! (...) ...He insisted I include the 'ahaha' at the end." (—Cyran delivering a message from Clavis to Emma)

"Very well. I'll inform him that you said to die in pain and agony." (—Cyran talking about Clavis to Chevalier)

"Really? Are you sure? Ahh, this is great, it means I can get away from my troublesome master for a while. I look forward to serving you, My Lady, and I'll do my absolute best for you!" (—Cyran replying to Clavis' order to be Emma's personal bodyguard)

"My Lady, you're the sort of person who worries constantly about other people, without ever thinking about yourself. Like at the party, when you tried to protect Prince Gilbert from that guy with the knife. That sort of thing."

"...Farewell, my peaceful days."

"...Stay strong, my lady. I know exactly how you feel, but know that I am cheering you on."

[tsw1234]

We Can't Be Friends (part 2)

Word Count: 1598

Pairings: Vampire Slayer!reader x Vampire!Dick Grayson

Synopsis: It's been months since the apocalypse. Discovering your newfound powers as a vampire slayer hasn't been easy, and with these newfound powers came new responsibilities like protecting the remaining civilians in Gotham from the creatures of the night, killing vampires alongside your courageous friends, etc...Yet there's just one thing blocking you from fulfilling your destiny, the very vampire you've been sworn to kill.

Notes: (Quickly) Proof read by me

Warnings: Smut, Angst

You knew this was wrong. You absolutely should not be doing this. Lord knows if you were to be caught, not only would it end badly for you but also your friends, your commune, and your little brother. Yet, it's as if something is compelling you to do this. You walk through the abandoned park en garde. Most sane people would show up with some sort of protection--like a stake or rosemary. But you're not sane, and the things that you've done as a result of armageddon wouldn't classify you as sane either. 

Despite Gotham's ongoing events, its park seemed to be the one of few places unaffected by the apocalypse. The grass and tree leaves were coated white, due to December's icy precipitation. Following down the park's path of lights illuminating the snow-covered vegetation you arrive at your destination--- a bridge that provides a beautiful view of the park's scenery and its pond directly below you. It was truly spectacular. Nostalgia of kids and parents and images of Haley dogs running around resurface.

"I know you’re here Grayson?". You felt his presence when you entered the park, perks of being a vampire hunter. You know when they’re nearby. As soon as those words escaped your lips, he appeared in front of you; almost as if you summoned him, like a genie to its master.

“Hello to you too [nickname],” he says, sliding next to you. While you don’t turn to face him you can feel his eyes on you.

"I feel you staring at me."

"I prefer to call it admiring, princess," he states with a smug smirk on his face. You rolled your eyes at his smart remark.

"You lost your right to admire the moment you sent your brainless minions to wipe out most of humanity.". 

"You broke up with me."

"So that gives you the right to kill people?"

"No, but it makes us even."

"Wrong again, you killed the man I loved. That ups the score 2-1, me." you challenge. The contrast between the two of you is vast--the deadpan on your face compared to the amused look on his. One could interpret the both of you to be having two separate conversations just based on facial expressions alone. "And who might that person be?" he asks cockily.

Silence fills the air. Your immediate reaction is to say him but, he's not the same man you loved--looks wise yes, but personality...? 

"Why'd you do it...kill Bruce?". Dick's demeanor changes instantly, his body more tense; The once smug look on his face is replaced with a stoic expression. 

"That's not your business."

"It is my business. They mattered to me--You matter-"

"You lost that right when you broke up with me.". Silence once again. 

"Jason..."

"Alfred..."

"Damian-"

"Damnit [Name] I told you to leave it alone. Stop poking your nose in places it doesn't belong." he stern. The cold air details the exasperation in your conversation. The quietness between you felt odd, you don't never liked fighting with Dick. It was unnatural between you too and it seldom happened. But, when it did, it would get ugly. You were both passionate people and when your thoughts would rarely clash, it would take time for the person in the wrong to step forward and apologize. 

"Do you know I'm supposed to kill you?". His eyebrows perk up at the shock of your abruptness.

"It's a part of my destiny or something..." you say as you cast a stone across the park's pond. Silence again. 

"Why are you here [nickname]?"

"..."

"I mean you hate me. You hate what I am, what I've done--yet every time you ask to see me. Why?"

"I don't know..." you mumble. "What?" 

"I don't know!" you shout letting out a voice crack. 

"I don't know why I called! Maybe it's because I miss you...". To say that out loud hurt your soul. Of course, you've known that you had but to say it helped you come to terms with your emotions. 

"Everywhere I go, I have memories of you--of us. You are a constant reminder of the life that I had because you were my life I know that I broke up with you and it haunts me every day but...you were one of the few constants in my life and I just feel like the day I stop agreeing to see you is one less piece of my old life.". You break down, all the many months of pent-up emotions gone just like that to the blue-eyed monster whom you loved.

"Come here..." he says, pulling you in an embrace. There you are, the very own vampire slayer destined to end the war on humanity allowing the wager of the war to console you. Here he is comforting your sniffles and cries, knowing that in the end, you have to kill him. How tragic. 

"[Nickname], everything I do is for you or because of you. Whether or not you believe it. Why did I do it--kill all those people? I wanted to find a way to be with you forever and in the process, I had to sacrifice people I loved. You are what's keeping me sane, what's holding me back from killing the rest of humanity. It's you, princess."

You look up at Dick with your tear-filled puffy eyes. He rests his palm against your face, wiping away any tears that had trickled down your face. "I miss you too, like hell and I hate that you're going through this because of--"

You cut him off with a kiss. A much overdue one to say. Although caught off guard, Dick accepts it swiftly. Immediately his hand hugged your waist and ran up and down your back. Your fingers find their way to his hair, intricately running through them. The kiss between the two of you felt like a fever dream. It felt as if it was the last day on Earth and the both of you needed to kiss to survive. It was passionate, warm, and embracing. 

He starts to move down your neck, peppering kisses as he goes and making sure to linger on your sweet spots causing you to release a soft moan. "Just as I remember huh?" he says in between each kiss. 

"May I?" he asks, toying with the waistband of your panties. You feverishly nod, allowing him to help discard your clothes. After unclasping your bra, the icy winter air hits your nipples causing them to harden. 

"You're just as perfect as ever, my pretty girl," he says as he dips two fingers inside of you. You try to suppress your moans but he's quick to break your resolve as his fingers hit a spot that hasn't been touched since the last time you've seen him. He speeds up his pace, being aware not to go too fast, yet too slow. "Fuck, Dick" you whine. The combination of the weather plus his touch helps you reach your orgasm fast. 

"That's right princess, come on my fingers," he says as you let go. He sucks off the remnants of your release and proceeds to take off his pants. He lifts you and you wrap your legs around him. He rubs his tip up and down your entrance before putting it in slowly. You release a loud moan holding on to him--nails digging into his back. He starts steady and then goes faster resulting in you letting out several curses and shrewd moans. You both reach your climax in sync, letting go together. Too disoriented to move, he cleans you up and helps you put your clothes back on. Once you're both clothed, he pulls you into his arms--once more-- kissing your head and whispering sweet nothings. You both stay like that for a while, basking in the moment of bliss.

"[Name]" you hear a voice say bringing you back to reality. Dick is still holding onto your waist. But, instead of pushing him away, you secure his hold on you whilst looking into his blue eyes. You turn around to see your best friend, out of breath, bruised, and upset. You momentarily pushed whatever feelings for Dick you had aside and rushed to their aid.

"What happened?" you asked, helping them catch their breath. They said nothing but your sense kicked in, telling you something was wrong and for some reason, it gave you an inkling that Dick had something to do with it. 

"They found us...and they have T.J.". they say, eyes focused on Dick. Your eyes shoot to your ex (lover?) in disbelief. He knows where your brother is, he has to! They're his men. 

"How could you!" you yell, voice full of pain. You march over to where he stood, his face filled with confusion and guilt. "How could you let them take him? After everything that just happened!" you shout as you shove him. 

"Where is he?"

No response. Another shove. 

"Answer me! Where is he!". Silence once again. "I don't know," he replies full of melancholy. "You're lying. Tell me!" you urge. 

"I don't know [nickname]," he whispers. Dick is feeling a whirlwind of emotions. The biggest one is hurt. He can't believe that you would believe that he would do this to you. After everything he had just said and done? He's going to find which one of his men did this and they're going to face the consequences. You shove him one final time before running over to your friend. 

"Come on, we're going to find them and my brother," you say, shooting him a wicked glare, leaving Dick in a state of sadness, guilt, and anger. 

[tsumuus]

For prompt 2 for your event, could you do that one Leah and Rob sound. "You don't hate me?" "I could never hate you." with Oikawa? tyyyyyyyyyyy

₊✩‧₊˚ toru oikawa + prompt 2 ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ ‘so you don’t hate me’ ‘i could never hate you’ ˚₊✩‧₊

You had always thought you knew Toru Oikawa like the back of your hand. From the days when you first met in middle school, his charisma and infectious energy had drawn you in, and over the years, you had become inseparable. You shared laughter, tears, and countless late-night conversations. So when the sudden shift came—when he started pushing you away, his demeanor growing colder and more distant—it threw you into a whirlwind of confusion.

At first, you thought it was something you had done. Had you unknowingly said something to upset him? Or perhaps your busy schedule had pushed him to the background? The questions buzzed incessantly in your mind, but you couldn't find any answers. Each time you tried to reach out, he seemed to withdraw even further, leaving you feeling lost and adrift.

It was during one of those quiet evenings, when the moonlight streamed through your window, that you finally confronted him. You had just returned from a particularly painful day at school, your heart heavy with the weight of his cold shoulder, and the sight of him at the park, sitting alone on a bench, felt like a last straw.

"Toru," you said, your voice trembling slightly, "what's going on? Why have you been pushing me away? Did I do something wrong?"

He looked up at you, his eyes softening as if he was seeing you for the first time in weeks. He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair in frustration. The usual charm and confidence that he wore like a second skin seemed to be stripped away, revealing a vulnerability you rarely saw.

"I've been an idiot," he admitted, his voice low and rough. "I didn’t want to hurt you, but I didn’t know how to handle everything I was feeling. It’s like every time I’m with you, I want to spill everything out—everything I’ve been keeping inside—but it scares me. It’s so unnatural for me."

You listened, heart aching, as he continued. “You make me feel things I’ve never felt before, and I don’t know how to explain it. I thought if I distanced myself, it would be easier for both of us.”

You stared at him, processing his words. The silence that followed was thick with unspoken emotions, and the moonlight cast a gentle glow on his troubled face. Slowly, you approached him and took a seat beside him on the bench, your presence offering a silent comfort.

"So you don't hate me?" you asked softly, the fear of losing him gripping your heart.

He turned to look at you, his expression a mixture of relief and regret. "Hate you? I could never hate you," he said, his voice breaking slightly. "The way I’ve been acting, it’s because I care so much. It’s because you mean everything to me."

The tension between you seemed to melt away with his confession. You reached out, taking his hand in yours, feeling the warmth and the sincerity in his touch. His eyes searched yours, and for the first time in weeks, you saw the familiar spark of affection in them.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn’t mean to make you feel like you were the problem. I’ve just been struggling with my own feelings, and I didn’t know how to handle it."

You squeezed his hand gently, offering him a reassuring smile. "It’s okay, Toru. I just needed to know where we stood."

He nodded, his relief palpable. "Thank you for understanding. I promise I’ll work on this. I want to be better for you, and I don’t want to let my own fears ruin what we have."

The night continued with a renewed sense of closeness, the distance that had grown between you now replaced by the understanding and the warmth of a bond that had weathered the storm. As you sat there together, the moon casting its gentle light over you both, you knew that despite the struggles, you were still there for each other. And for the first time in a while, everything felt right again.

a/n RAHHHHHHH i don’t like this but here you go🙏😓

₊✩‧₊˚ 555 follower event ! ˚₊✩‧₊

main masterlist

[yakumtsaki]

Dear readers, we've been through so much together and you know at this point it takes a lot for me to describe a situation as 'out of control'.. yet here we are. So Kea moves in and the following happens in the span of like 2 hours:

Barth beats up Felina.

Kea beats up Spice.

Barth beats up Cyan.

Felina beats up Barth. Like seriously, ENOUGH. I've decided that next generation when we're at the third cousin tier relation I'm just gonna let whoever wants to date a cousin do it because holy hell, breaking them up has been a disaster. Everyone is near aspiration failure, everyone has shit grades, we're BROKE, and to top it all off..

-HELLO AGAIN

Why. WHY IS THIS HAPPENING WE DON'T OWE ANY BILLS LIKE THIS IS LITERAL THEFT. I also love how everyone is already so miserable so the repoman just comes and takes all the fun objects we can't afford to replace, FML

Barth's aspiration meter is absolutely pathetic as a result of everyone viciously assaulting him and desperate times call for desperate measures..

-Well well.. If it isn't Glitched Butler #9.. How's it hanging? ;)

-Same as always, I'm here to not cook and to open the doors we no longer have thanks to Baby.

-You know what, I'm too depressed to seduce you so will you just sleep with me?

-As you well know my butler programming prohibits me from doing anything helpful!

FFS. It's ok Barth, I will fulfill your throw a party want, I don't see how anything could go wrong with the situation in this house being what it is!

-Hey there! Join our party! Sleep with me! I COMMAND YOU

Barth please get it together.

-I CAN'T FUNCTION ROMANTICALLY BECAUSE I'M SO SAD BUT I REFUSE TO THROW ANY WANTS THAT DON'T INVOLVE ME SLEEPING WITH SOMEONE

OK DO YOU MAYBE SEE THE PROBLEM WITH THAT APPROACH

-NO

-Ugh, Spice is so hot when he's crying after I beat him up.

Ok Kea, I'm only gonna ask this once: are you fucking kidding me????

-What? It's only natural to be attracted to your girlfriend's ex who is her cousin and your enemy.

I'm just gonna pretend I didn't see this shit and move on.

So I have invited several of Barth's existing and potential lovers to this party and my goal is to figure out who, if anyone, I'm gonna marry him to. Now please enjoy this sequence of events:

a) Barth is flirting with my current top spouse pick, Stella Terrano, and it's going great!

b) Barth leaves Stella Terrano to go sleep with GODDAMN GUNNAR. Since I can't seem to shake this fucker off, the only option remaining is to give him a ridiculous fake accent to make him bearable.

-Oi luvs you, Barth!

-Why are you talking like a servant from Downton Abbey? Also who the hell caught me cheating now?

Who knows or cares? Let's continue:

c) Barth goes downstairs to beat up Cyan.

d) Klara aka my former top spouse pick attempts to leap into Barth's arms and HE LETS HER DROP

-Äääääh mein arsch!

-Sorry Klara but I refuse to get caught cheating by Gunnar..

-..unless it's with Stella Terrano!

LOL OMG, I really thought I'd have to marry him to fucking Gunnar due to THIS SHIT:

But God's mercy finally shines upon me!!!

Oh man I'm so upset by this >:)

-Ha culd youse do 'is, ya broke ma 'eart!!!

-What?

-Oh my, turtles are considered the sexiest animal in my planet👽

Stella ffs. Oh well, so sad, goodbye Gunnar, I was really hoping to add your freakish lack of chin into our gene pool but looks like I won't have the chance huhu!

e) Barth flirts with Stella again and is caught cheating AGAIN..

f) ..by Sarah Love who I keep forgetting exists but man that's a HARDCORE slap, she legit got her fingers in his eyeball(s)

-SORRY WHATSYOURNAME BUT I THINK BLINDING ME IS A BIT OF AN OVERREACTION

Yay! See Barth, our amazing party did the trick and now everything is gonna be ok!

-IM BLIND IM BLINDDDD I CAN'T SEE

Excuse me?! You know what Barth I'm done helping you, nothing is ever good enough for you!

[oliversrarebooks]

Jameson's Dress

Masterlist

some of you asked for force-fem Jameson so here ya go

tw: forced feminization, mind control, dehumanization, captivity, restraints, anger issues, human auction

April 1860

The days and nights in captivity had done nothing to quell Jameson's rage. He had nothing to do in this damned cage but stew about every way he'd been wronged, all the bastards who'd swindled him -- especially his rotten partner, who'd stolen the business out from under him before Jameson had had a chance to do the reverse. His impotent anger burned inside of him, and it took all of his restraint to not kick and punch at the iron bars and cement walls. More than once he'd flung his meals at passing vampires, valuing the chance to vent his emotions more than he valued eating. And more than once, he'd been drugged for his troubles, the monsters pinning him to the wall and forcing him to drink a nasty-tasting substance that made his mind slow and his limbs heavy.

The only saving grace was that he'd had plenty of time to think about how he'd all make them pay once he got out of here.

"What do you recommend for lot sixteen?"

"I've conditioned her as a domestic worker, so let's style her accordingly. I don't think she needs much embellishment. Her blood quality and docile nature speak for themselves."

Jameson looked out of his cell to see two vampire women making their way down the hall. One was Colette, the vampire who'd shown up in his office and captured him. The other was an older woman in a suit who carried herself with an air of authority -- Florence. She'd taken Jameson out of his cell the other day, and he'd…

He'd…

His mind swam with the effort of trying to remember what had happened. She must have drugged him again. It was the only explanation. By the time he'd woken up, he was back on his cot in the cell.

The vampires stopped at the cell next to his. "And this one's been erased," said Florence, "so I was planning to --"

Jameson stuck his arm out of the bars and snapped impatiently at them. "Let me out of this cell right now and maybe I won't pull down the full brunt of the law on you!"

That was a lie, of course. As soon as he was free of this place, he was calling the police and every lawyer he knew. Vampires or not, they'd go to prison like anyone else, and judging by their clothes, they had plenty of money that he'd get in damages. He'd turn this sordid situation to his advantage yet.

The two vampires shared a laugh as Jameson's rage threatened to boil over. If he weren't behind these bars, he'd slap the smiles right off their smug faces.

"Lot six," said Colette, approaching his cell. "I don't know why you didn't just have him erased. He's so disagreeable."

"Ah, but sometimes the disagreeable ones fall the hardest," said Florence.

"Do you bubble-headed idiots even know who I am?" he demanded, seething. "I could buy and sell you both a dozen times over, and --"

"Oh, we know exactly who you are," Colette interrupted. "That's why we knew no one would miss you when we took you."

"Besides, you're so much happier as a servile little plaything," said Florence. "Perhaps I can demonstrate for Colette."

"What the hell are you --"

"Just be a good boy for me."

The words hit Jameson like a sack of bricks. His mind reeled, thoughts clouding, as he struggled against the flood of foreign, unnatural calm invading him. "I'm not -- !"

"Good boy. Such a good boy."

His anger evaporated, replaced with a blissful feeling of docility, as his muscles relaxed and his shoulders slumped, eyes losing their focus.

Yes, he wanted to be a good boy.

"That's right," said Miss Florence, smiling, and he wanted nothing more than to please her. "It feels good to let go of all that anger. It feels good to know your place and to serve."

He nodded, slowly. He couldn't remember ever feeling so good. Maybe when he was a young child, before he understood how cruel the world was. "Yes, sir."

"Kneel."

He fell gently to his knees, arms clasped behind him and head bowed. He was a good boy. He wanted to serve.

She snapped her fingers. "Aware."

Jameson's chest clenched as the full force of his ire crashed back into him, bringing along with it a deeply unpleasant sense of humiliation as he realized he was kneeling before the goddamned vampires who were keeping him captive. "What are you doing to me? What --"

"Good boy," she said, and everything melted into submissive bliss as she pet his head. "You're a good boy, aren't you?"

The soft touch felt so nice, something he hadn't felt in so, so long. "I'm a good boy, sir," he said meekly.

Miss Colette's cackles rang off the cement walls. "Oh, now, that is a fun toy. I can see now why you let him be so disagreeable."

"He's much more agreeable now. Aren't you, boy?"

Something in him tugged. He didn't want to be agreeable. Being agreeable was for losers who let themselves be walked over.

But he was a good boy, and good boys were agreeable. Obedient. Docile. "Yes, sir."

Miss Colette took him by the chin, and he looked down deferentially. "It is a treat to see a nasty one like this get all the fight taken out of him."

"It's all the same with these angry men," said Miss Florence. "Their anger makes them so tired and easy to manipulate. All they need is a taste of submission, and they become like putty to mold into a model thrall."

In his daze, Jameson was having a hard time following the vampires' conversation, but it sounded like they were pleased with him.

"I think I'd like to take this thrall and prepare him myself," said Miss Florence. "Could you go prepare lots twelve and thirteen, and ask Frank to round up the erased in the blue room?"

"Yes, I'm on it."

Miss Colette walked away, and Miss Florence pulled a ring of keys from her apron pocket and unlocked Jameson's cell. "Be a good boy," she said, as she wrapped a leather collar around his neck, putting him on a leash. "Heel."

He did as he was told and followed a half-step behind her as they walked past the other cells, up a flight of stairs and into a dressing room, with a rack of ball gowns in one corner and a large vanity covered in cosmetics lining a wall. His compromised mind struggled to recall what this was about. He was at an auction house, he remembered, to be auctioned as a commodity, and he'd been rightfully upset about it, but…

Miss Florence walked him over to the rack of elaborate dresses. "Here you are, boy. You may choose your dress."

Some of his blissful calm evaporated. These were women's dresses -- they weren't something he could wear. This vampire was obviously trying to humiliate him.

"This is what a good boy wears for the auction," she said. "And you're a good boy, aren't you?"

Just like that, his thoughts were gone again. "Yes, sir." He didn't know anything about what sort of dress he should pick, so he simply grasped at one that seemed appealing. It was deep blue, the color of the sky at twilight, with black lace and a ruffled neck.

"Very good," she said, the praise making him swell. "Now we have to prepare you."

He was whisked into a large bathroom with a stainless steel tub, and Florence tsk'd as she looked into it. "Empty," she muttered to herself, pulling a braided cord hanging from the wall. "Now, be a good boy and remove your clothes."

The wave of calm obedience that washed through him removed any resistance he would have to this idea, and he mindlessly took off the shirt, pants, and socks that had been provided by the auction house at his processing. He'd been belligerent then, determined to fight the vampires off with everything he had, only to find himself drugged senseless and dragged into a cell anyway.

This way is so much easier, isn't it, said the echo of Miss Florence's voice in his mind. So much easier to accept and obey. So much more content without the anger in his heart, so much calmer with the fight stolen from him.

A few thralls entered the bathroom carrying basins of water to fill the bathtub, and Florence beckoned him to get in. It was bracingly cold, just as he usually liked his baths, but the shock brought his mind back to the surface for a moment. He was as naked as the day he was born in front of the vampire who'd ensorcelled and humiliated him --

"Quiet and docile for me," she said, scrubbing at him with a rag doused in floral-scented soap, scattering his resistance once more. He certainly didn't mind being washed clean of the accumulated grime of days in a prison cell.

Soon he was toweled off and sat in a chair while the vampire trimmed his hair neatly. It didn't take very much time, because he'd always kept it short and groomed. She shaved him with a straight razor, her practiced hand working swiftly and leaving no marks, as Jameson sat stock still in his hypnotic daze.

The next step was to guide him back into the dressing room and take his measurements with a tape, the vampire's aura sinking into him with every small movement and silently coercing him to be empty and blank. His eyelids drooped as his mind drifted. He should be irritated, a part of him knew, but it was impossible to keep from sinking into tranquility.

The tranquility remained as Florence helped him into women's undergarments, sized appropriately for him, but like nothing he'd ever worn. A part of him was trying to fight to the surface, but it was buried too deep under the compulsion to be quiet, be passive, obey the vampire. Everything was so much easier with his anger muffled, a distant roar.

The dress that he had chosen earlier was slipped over his head. Miss Florence took his hand and led him over to the vanity, where a wealth of frivolous beauty products lay spread out before him. She brushed his freshly trimmed hair and began to apply makeup to his face.

Makeup. He'd look like a clown. He'd look like a clown in front of so many vampires, while he was being sold…

Miss Florence hooked a gold chain around his neck. "You'll be utterly quiet and docile for the auction. Passive and serene. Obedient and gentle."

"Yes… sir…"

Her hands gently touched the side of his thick neck, the place where a vampire might drink. "You're meant for service. You'll be so content in service to your betters, won't you?"

It made sense. There was a natural pecking order to the world. He'd just mistakenly thought he was on top, when really, it had been the vampires all along. "Yes, sir, I'm content to serve."

"You know your place now."

"I know my place, sir."

"It's so much easier than fighting to be something you're not. You're not strong. You're not in control. You're not entitled to anything. You're a weak thing that only desires to serve."

It felt so true. If he were truly strong, like he imagined himself to be, he wouldn't be here. "Yes, sir, I desire to serve."

"Good boy."

She led him over to a mirror, and Jameson could hardly recognize himself, wearing a lacey ballgown and expertly done makeup. A stranger, or perhaps a version of him from a different time, where he was soft and feminine and everything else he hated, and was happier that way.

Miss Florence snapped near his ear. "Aware."

His half-lidded eyes flew open as he beheld what the goddamn vampires had done to him. She'd put him under a spell, forced him to wear this absolutely humiliating outfit, convinced him he was --

"Good boy."

Convinced him he was…

"You feel so much better this way."

He did. It was such an immense relief to sink back into tranquility, to forget what he'd been so angry about, his muscles loose and his mind dazed and sleepy. He meekly submitted to Miss Florence as she snapped a pair of jeweled handcuffs around his wrists, ready to be sold to his new master.

Masterlist

[into-crazy]

Derry's Secret Pt. 6

Pennywise x Female Reader series

Warnings- mature language, stalking, dark themes, NSFW, SMUT, choking, dirty talk, fingering, oral sex, penetrative sex, degradation, edging and orgasm denial, overstimulation, ages 18+

I'm baaaack!! Here is a long and extremely overdue part to the series. All I can say is.. heed the warnings. Oh, and have fun!

Other parts can be found RIGHT HERE and through the "Derry's Secret" tag🎈

That evening you decided to stay home. Gabby had texted you prior, asking if you wanted to go out with her and a few other girlfriends. You've hung out with them a couple times before, Gabby was friends with them before you had moved here and had introduced you to each other. They were going out to eat and have some drinks. You declined, stating you just wanted to stay home and catch up on some sleep. It wasn't true. You had your own plans tonight.

You've done quite a lot of thinking ever since you left that house on Neibolt street. Half of your thoughts consisted of you considering what Pennywise had said, and the other half was you scolding yourself for it. Ultimately, you came to a decision.

After a nice shower, you decided to binge watch one of your favorite shows. Lounging with no bra or pants, your ideal form of comfort. Nothing like an oversized tee with some panties to have you set for the night.

Walking into the kitchen, you grab a glass and pour yourself water from the fridge. You take a large gulp before shutting the fridge door. When you turn around, the cup instantly slips from your hand. The glass shatters as it hits the tiled floor below. Leaving the rest of the water to spill by your feet.

Pennywise stood a few feet before you, his stance almost ravenous. His golden gaze runs over your body, covering every inch of you. You don't move one muscle, you're like a deer caught in a beam of headlights.

"Miss me?" He mocks, smiling with that toothy grin of his.

You soon find yourself backing towards the fridge as he steps closer, with your heart rate increasing by the second. There's no escape this time. He's got you exactly where he wants you. Alone in your home, half clothed and completely vulnerable. With no one to come to your rescue this time.

What he doesn't know is that you're right where you want to be. Having known the risk of Pennywise showing up, you still secretly anticipated it. Or perhaps he does know, and that's why he's here. You can only ask yourself now- was this the right decision?

The clown speaks again, "in the time I spent watching you, I've found something quite captivating. Which I also find to be unexpected, as it is a first for me." He catches you staring at his lips.

You try to shy it off. "Would you um, care to enlighten me?"

"The entire time I've been on this world, I fed on nothing but the fear and flesh of life upon it. For so many years, it stayed that way. But you.. you seemed to have introduced me to a different craving." Drool drips down his plump lips. His breath grows feverish, and he needs a second to get himself together before continuing. "I've known there to be lust amongst humans. Though I never cared for it much as it was never meant for me. Until I smelt it on you." He could see it in your eyes, read it clear in your mind. "But you are closing it off," he frowns. "You won't give in, even though you want to very badly. Why?"

You turn your gaze to the broken glass on the floor. Briefly shutting your eyes to hide the embarrassment. "Because it's wrong," you answer. "I do want you. And I want nothing more than to give myself to you.." The desperate whine in your voice gets him to step closer. "I've thought about it, dreamt of it. But I-I couldn't get over the fact that I was ashamed of how much I want it. Of how much I want you."

Admitting this felt alleviating. Like a heavy weight had been lifted from your chest, no longer suffocating you in your own guilt. Instead it was entirely replaced with what you had tried to confine. The scorching feeling of this desire spreading through your veins like a wildfire.

"But I don't want to be ashamed anymore." You whisper, bravely turning back to him. Tightening the strength in your legs which are growing weak.

"Precious doll, trying so hard to deny your desires," he steps over the mess on the floor. The glass crunches under his steps, but he doesn't acknowledge it.

Him calling you doll sends goosebumps prickling across your body.

"Let go. Give in to me y/n.."

His long frame lurches over you. You watch as his gloved hand slides up your arm to your neck, giving it a light squeeze. You mewl at his touch, your hardened nipples poking through the white tee. His other hand goes to rub your left breast, earning soft sighs from you when his thumb brushes the sensitive bud.

"Poor little human, so stubborn. So touch deprived. I can make it worth your while." His breath is hot on your face as he licks up your reddened cheek with that long slimy tongue. "Pennywise can make you feel soo good."

"Mmm I-" you pant, grabbing onto the ruffles of his collar.

He chuckles into your ear, his soft coos tickling your skin. "What is it? Do you want it?"

You finally allow your body to push back against his. "Y-yes."

"Yes what? Say it. I want to hear you say it." He demands, his grip firmly holding you in place.

"I.. I want you." You breathe out heavily as if you're letting everything go. Letting go of everything that was holding you back. He pulls from your neck to look at you. Your lips are parted, your eyes are lust blown, and the top of your shirt is soaked from the wetness of his drool. Your chest is heaving with each heavy breath you take. "I give in to you. Please, just take me." You plead bringing your leg up to rub his calf.

He brings his hands to your hips and rapidly snatches you off your feet, your legs instantly go to wrap around his waist. You kiss each other hungrily, with desperation in your movements. He shoves his tongue into your mouth and gains control. The taste of his tongue engulfs your senses with those familiar scents and flavors from previous kisses. Your eyes flutter as you finally get what you've been missing.

You grind against him and he presses your back hard into the steel of the fridge. It stings since he is much stronger than you. "Ahhh, P-Pennywise.. the bed." You stutter in between short takes of air. "Take me to my bed."

Snarling at your request, he effortlessly walks with you in his arms into the room and tosses you on the top of the mattress. You scoot back into place as he crawls over your body, you watch as those monstrous claws tear right through the fabric of his gloves. The sight sends chills up your spine. Reminding you of a predator sizing up its prey, ready to sink its teeth in and devour. Perhaps that's what Pennywise intends on doing with you. One way or another.

He straddles you and takes ahold of your wrists, pinning them above your head. "Now, won't you be a good girl and keep your hands there. Do not move them."

You nod, showing him your compliance. He rubs his clawed hands down your arms to the collar of your shirt, tearing through the wet material to release your breasts. Good thing that wasn't one of your favorite tees. You deeply exhale as he kneads the round flesh, his large thumbs rubbing over your peaked nipples. A hypnotized look on his face while handles them, as if he's seeing such a thing for the first time. He's seen breasts before, right? You can't help but giggle at his focused face. At the sound of your amusement, his eyes dart straight up at you.

What a cute little frown. you smile to yourself.

"Cute!? You think I'm cute!?" He roars in your face, harshly grasping your cheeks.

"Damn right adorable." You amusingly jab back. So he is a mind reader. Not happy with your defiance, he sticks two clawed fingers into your mouth. Shoving them in far enough to gag you, effectively shutting you up. This sends a rush of arousal straight to your core.

"My, what a disobedient pet you are.." he calmly whispers stroking your chin with his thumb. Too calm, dangerously calm.

He looks even more irresistible when he's mad. It makes you want to provoke him further. Closing your lips around his digits, you begin to suck. Humming while casting your lust dead into his eyes with a look that screams- try me.

"Ohhh and an awfully naughty one at that." He huffs rather impressed.

Whether you're crazy, stupid, depraved or whatever the case- he doesn't care. But you are a brave one, that he'll acknowledge. Only to himself, for now. Removing his fingers, he tears the rest of the white fabric from your body. You wince slightly as his claws leave scratch marks into your skin. You're soon left in nothing but a black, lacy thong. He smirks at you knowingly and you reciprocate. After all, you've anticipated this.

"I'll show you who's cute. You made me wait for too long. So I will make you beg for me." The snarl in his voice rolls off his tongue. You hum struggling against his grip, which he scowls.

Pennywise moves slowly down your body, his red puff balls gliding roughly against your stomach. Using one hand to pin your hips down, he tears your underwear right off. Making you yelp when he does. He brings the small piece up to his nose, taking his time to inhale your scent. "Soo sweet," he softly confides then places them to the side. Having him up close and personal to your most private area makes you feel self-conscious. As you slightly squeeze your thighs together, Pennywise takes notice. "What's the matter, are you shy?" He coos kissing down your stomach.

"A little, yes." You shiver in his grasp.

"Uh-uh," he waves a finger, "there's no need for that pretty thing. Open up for me now, hm. Show me your sweet little pussy." Taking ahold of each thigh, he spreads you open upon your avail. Exposing your sex to him, slick with arousal and clit throbbing in excitement. Heat floods into your cheeks, tinting them a shade of red. He lets out a low growl, "such a delicate, wet flower." He licks from the middle of your inner thigh up to your entrance. When he was about to reach where you need him most, he purposely pulls away. Leaving you to whine and squirm with disappointment. While he chuckles in delight. "Use that filthy mouth and beg for it."

"I need your mouth on me, p-please," you plead. "Please Penny."

The sound of the nickname you give him rumbles throughout his inhuman body with pleasure. Giving a satisfied grin, he licks a long strip over your wet slit. Getting that first taste of you, making you shudder when he runs over your clit. "Tasty, tasty treat.. and all for Pennywise, all mine." He deeply huffs before latching his mouth onto your pussy. Running his slimy tongue around your folds and lapping your sweet bundle of nerves. Slurping up your juices which are all so pleasing to him.

You ball your fists above your head, trying so hard to stay how he wanted. But that magic tongue of his has you squirming around uncomfortably. "Uhm, Pen-Pennywise, could I move my hands?" You ask in the most innocent tone able to conjure.

"Since you asked nicely, yes you can." He confirms before going back to it.

Your arms go to your side, so your elbows can hold your weight to provide better support. His nose pushes against your bud while he sucks onto you, making you moan unabashedly. His tongue working it's rhythm in you while he's swallowing down all your juices. His eyes roll to the back of his skull, completely whitened out. A terrifying sight which you found oddly endearing. You moan in awe at how lost he is into you. His makeup wasn't even smearing, staying perfectly intact. You had thought by now it'd be a runny mess by now, with large amounts of that red and white transfering onto you. But his clown paint didn't falter once, and there's not even a trace on you. His orange hair dropped down his face, tickling your thighs. How you want to grab a handful of his locks.

Should you dare try?

You gently place your right hand over his head. Palming around his soft hair to test the waters. Maybe he's too far in to notice. Once he gives your clit extra attention, you grab onto him and tug lightly at his hair.

He snaps back into focus with a growl that sounds angry as he pulls away slightly.

"Oh fuck. I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to." Fearfully thinking you might've crossed the line, you retract your hand.

But he doesn't move and his growling subsides. "Put it back."

"Huh?"

"Put your hand back. But no tugging." Pennywise insists, and you listen. Running your fingers through his soft locks.

He hums before bringing his hand to his face. You notice his claws are gone and the gloves are back. Which doesn't matter, because he rips the article off with his teeth, revealing his bare hand. To no surprise, his regular hand is the same white as his face. He inserts two fingers into you, setting a slow pace before he picks it up. His finger strokes feel amazing inside you, rubbing in all the right places. Although you think about how his cock would feel. To have him inside you.

Which raises the question- does he have one? Or any form of genitals? Those are actually some really good questions.

He sucks and licks on your clit all while working his fingers inside you. It's one of the most pleasurable things you've felt im your life. You can feel your release fast approaching. "Oh fuck, I'm.. I'm gonna-" your lewd moans get him moving faster. Just when you were about to fall over that ledge into pure bliss, he stops completely. Halting the movement of his fingers and removing his mouth with a loud slurp. This earns a groan of displeasure from you. "No! Why did you stop? I was so close!"

Pennywise chuckles darkly at your whines, "I told you I was going to make you beg, earthling."

Tears prickle the corners your eyes at the loss of your orgasm. It hurts. It was right there, but he cruelly ripped it away! "Please," you cry softly, "you want me to beg? I'm begging, please- let me cum!"

Satisfied with your pleading, he decides to reward you. "Mm, that's better. Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" He places his slicked fingers back into your pussy. Alternating between stoking your walls and curling them in that spot that makes you scream. His tongue adding more pressure on your clit than before.

"Yes, yes, don't stop! Please, don't stop!"

"Gonna cum on my hand, babydoll? Do it, do it now. I want it all!" He commands pressing down onto your clit, sending you over the edge. Your back arches off the bed, crying out as your sweet release finally takes over your body. Pennywise watches you ride out your orgasm, intoxicated with the way you looked- so dirty, beautiful, and entirely under his mercy.

It took a lot of power in him to hold back his teeth from turning to sharp fangs. His cheeks were barely starting to split until he had to make sure that they wouldn't. Because in that moment of ecstasy which he gave you, he experienced an awakening of his own. Apparently feeding off just your mixed up mash of lust and fear wasn't going to cut it. It wasn't enough to satisfy this new hunger. He craves to feel you closer. Much closer.

Once he finished licking up your juices, he removes his fingers. Crawling back up your body as you're coming down. He keeps eye contact while obscenely sucking the remainder from them. The vulgar sight makes you whimper. He brings his face to yours and you pull him in with strength that surprised you both. His wet tongue slithers into your mouth and you taste yourself on him. You hungrily suck his tongue and push your hips up to him, rubbing your bare self onto his still clothed body. Pennywise starts grinding into you. As he does, you could feel something hard under his pantaloons.

That must be his member. It has to be.

You moan each time it brushes against your pussy as he dry humps you into the mattress. He starts panting, which is only turning you on more. Extending a hand down, you palm the hard member below causing it to twitch upon your touch.

Oh yeah, that's his cock alright.

Pennywise snatches your hand away. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I want to feel you." You throw your hips back up.

His hand tightens around your wrist as he laughs tauntingly at your request, "ohh angel, I don't think you're ready for that."

"But I am," you whine. "I want to feel you inside of me."

"Is that so? Does my little doll want something like.. my cock? You want my cock sweet thing?" He grinds down into you harder, catching you in a silent moan. "Need me to fill that needy hole of yours?" He's teasing the hell out of you, and he's throughly enjoying it.

"Yes! I need you to fuck me!" You wail desperately.

A rumble vibrates within his chest before he pins your waist down into the mattress. Holding you in place as his other reaches for his trousers. You watch as he works them, but his eyes are fixed on you. His large cock bounces free from the pants, and it is unlike anything you've ever seen before.

It's got the shape of a penis, yet has a deep shade of purple. Strange, other-worldly, and intimidating are what you would use describe it in this moment. And had you been in your right mindset, there would be no way you'd let that appendage near you. Let alone go inside you. But currently, you don't find it in you to care. You're far too gone. Far too absorbed in the pleasure this eldritch being is bestowing upon you. Right now, you want to feel all that it is. Questions and concerns can wait until later. If there is one.

To say Pennywise's member is intimidating may be an understatement. As he lines himself up with your entrance, you notice just how huge it really is. You knew he was big, but you didn't know it was that big.

"Will.." you gasp, "will it fit?"

His face snaps up to look at your worried expression, the fear in your eyes. His smile only widens and he rubs his thick head along your folds, the stimulation making you writhe. "Isn't this what you wanted, pet? For Pennywise to Fill. You. Up." He punctuates each word with a torturous roll of his hips against your heat.

"Fuuck," your eyes squeeze shut, "I do- oh fuck yes, I really do."

"Sweet thing," he shushes you. "You are ready. All you need to do is let me in." He grabs ahold of your thighs to spread you more. Displaying your cunt before him in the most obscene way. Walls throbbing with your juices practically flowing down, ready to be filled with his cock. A sight arousing enough to send another glob of drool dribbling down his chin. He's ready to bury himself into your hole and claim you as his. "I will fit, I will make it fit. Don't you worry about that. Now open up for me."

Wide eyed, you watch without further protest as his tip goes back to your entrance. You wanted this- want this.

Pennywise coaxes you by your chin to face him, "Eyes on me y/n. Look at me as I enter you." His raspy voice an intoxicating mix of low, sweet and demanding. Him calling you by your name calms your nerves and only makes you want him that much more.

He advances and you grip onto him. Dropping your jaw to release a deep groan from being stretched wide, wider than you've ever been before. Doing your best to keep your eyes open for him as your vision grows blurry with tears. He slowly pushes into your tight heat inch by inch. It hurts, you expected it would. But you need him to keep going. You dig your nails into the fabric of his costume, urging him to continue.

He pushes in, wiping the fresh tears that fallen down your cheeks with his thumbs. "That's it, ease into it." He huffs at the pleasurable feeling of your walls around his length. All warm and snug around him. "Ohh yessss, good girl.. so wet and warm, soo good."

You bite your lip as he begins to move. Pulling out slowly before pushing back in at the same rate. Doing this a few times to get you used to the stretch. After all, he doesn't want to break you. Not anytime soon, at least. He gradually picks up the speed of his thrusts, and soon you're begging him not to stop. The room is filled with the sounds of wet, slapping flesh and the noises from each of your mouths. You're a whining, moaning mess. Fully given in to the pleasure. While Pennywise grunts and occasionally groans, taking his own pleasure from your body.

"Oh ho ho, look at you. You're certainly enjoying this, aren't you?" He chuckles darkly when you give him a small whimper. Only to become impatient when you can't find the words to answer. He grips your face to look you in the eyes, slowing to move in and out of you at a languid pace. "Come on. Tell me, my pet. How does it feel being fucked by a monster? By the Eater of Worlds?"

"It- ah- it feels amazing. Oh fuck, you feel so amazing!" You're able to answer through short pants.

He grins widely to display a mouth filled with razor sharp teeth. It's both a frightening and enticing sight which leaves you staggered. Then before you know it, he snaps his hips against yours at a pace so fast and hard you start seeing stars. Unable to control the wanton moans spilling from your mouth as he fucks you into the mattress.

"Ohh! Yes, yes- ahhh!" You keen intensely from his violent force. It's too much, yet you can't get enough of it. Your walls contract tightly around his cock, the need to climax again is approaching fast. The monster above you senses this too. Larger globs of drool drop from his grisly mouth and down onto you. Your entire body is slick with a mixture of your sweat and his saliva.

"You want to cum, huh? Such a dirty girl, wanting to cum on my cock," he sneers. His thrusts do not falter one bit, making it difficult for you to respond.

"Y-yes, please, I wanna cum on your cock." Your climax is fast approaching, building in the pit of your stomach. Quickly becoming tighter, and growing more intense as it gets closer to being released. Your hips buck rapidly against him, trying to reach it. Hoping that he doesn't deny you this one like he did with the first one.

His hand moves between your bodies to find your clit. He rubs it hard, making you scream. "Then do it. Cum all over my cock like the good little slut you are."

With that, you do. Crying out as your orgasm gushes out all over his cock. Pennywise growls and chuckles lowly at the feel of your cunt pulsating around his member. This is something it's never felt before. It took a few seconds for your climax to subside, enough for you to realize that he's still ramming into you with full force. You're exhausted, weak, and overstimulated. All you are able to do is lay there and moan while Pennywise takes you as he pleases.

He grips tightly onto your hips and starts to lightly pant. "Again. I want another one."

At those words, you feel your heart drop. You don't know if you are even able to cum again. "I.. I can't."

He snarls harshly at your words. "You can, and you will." His thumb is back pressing roughly on your clit, while his other hand moves up your chest to wrap around your throat. His grip around your throat squeezes, restricting your ability to breathe. "Cum. Now." He growls powerfully right before slamming into you one last time, digging his claws into the flesh of your hips as he fills you with his hot seed.

You feel yourself cum at the exact moment he unloads inside of you. Your back arching all the way up from the bed, and your hips still rocking as your final orgasm violently crashes down on you. It was a lot for your body to handle. Your vision quickly became blurry, and you began to slip out of consciousness. Making it difficult for you to make out Pennywise's ghastly features. Panic quickly sets in when you realize that your sight isn't coming back. Nothing is coming back to you! Your strength or sight. Even your hearing is fading. Everything is fading. You can't move, you can't talk. Can't even make out the clown's features anymore. You're scared. It's all going black.

Soon, it was completely dark. Pennywise's dark laughter being the last thing you heard right before passing out.

End of Part 6.

[kelcemenow]

Drive Me Crazy - Chapter 2.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 1661

Warnings Strong language, but not much and a wee bit of flirting.

Huge thank you to the Anon who sent this in! They had such amazing words to say about my writing which I massively appreciate and then to top it off, had an incredible request for me! I only have experience with mechanics in the UK, so I've tried my best with this one! "I just recently got interested in Travis K. X reader stories and wanted to let you know, I read all of yours as quickly as I could. They are so well done and I couldn’t help but laugh/giggle and feel through each word you typed out. You’re doing amazing and I’m so glad to have stumbled onto your page. If you have any space for a request, I’d be curious about what Trav would think about having a military (like fighter pilot) or engineer or mechanic girlfriend. I see a lot of stories with him paired with models/singers/social media individuals (which are phenomenal!) but just wondering how he would be with a more tomboy like girlfriend!"

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

The dialling tone rang loudly in your ear for a few seconds as you wedged the office phone between your head and left shoulder. You typed up a couple of notes on the computer when the other end of the line picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hi, it that Mr Kelce? It's Y/N from KC Auto repairs." You said, checking your notes.

A deep voice laughed, "Hey, yeah it's Travis. You can call me Travis."

"Oh, okay Travis. I had a look at your car and there is a problem with your combustion chamber. You see, vehicles need the right amount of air and fuel to mix and then-"

"Woah woah, you lost me at combustion." Travis said, "Just tell me, is the car a goner?"

You giggled, "No, you just need new spark plugs. It's around $250 including labour."

You could hear him sigh down the line, "Oh! That's fine then, do what you need to do."

"Okay, sure thing. I'll be finished with it by 4pm. Are you able to come and collect around then?"

There was a short silence, "I've got a crazy day. I got a couple of things to figure out first, I don't know if I'll be around."

You checked your schedule in the large leather bound diary in front of you, "Well, I'll be in the shop late working on some other cars, so if you drop by anytime before 7, I should still be here."

"Awesome, I'll stop by!"

"Great, catch you later." You placed the phone back onto the receiver and quickly jotted down in your diary details to remind yourself to replace Travis' spark plugs.

The office door opened and the noises of the shop floor grew increased for a second before they were muffled again as the door closed.

"Hey sport." You felt your Dad's hands on your shoulders, "Your headache gone yet?"

"Not really. I already got two cars to finish up, a service and now these new spark plugs for do for that GMC." You pointed your pen in the direction of Travis' car as you began to write out a worksheet.

Your Dad leant down across your shoulder, "I could do the GMC for you?"

"Dad no, Dr Martin said you had to take it easy." You covered the worksheet with your hand.

He swiped your hand away, "Oh come on, I'm fine! It's spark plugs."

You laughed until you noticed that his face had quickly changed when he caught sight of the sheet, "What's wrong?"

His once rosy cheeked complexion was now a ghostly shade of white, "Travis Kelce...you have Travis Kelce's car here?"

"Yeah, why?"

His eyes widened as he looked towards the shop floor, "His car is in my shop? The GMC, that's Travis Kelce's car?"

Your eyebrows lowered in confusion, "Yeah, he dropped it off this morning?"

"Oh man! Y/N, you gotta let me do it! The boys at the fishing lake aren't gonna believe this!"

"What is going on? Who is this guy?" Your voice was beginning to heighten in pitch.

Your Dad lifted his sweatshirt up to reveal a bright red jersey with the number 87 emblazoned on the front, "Travis Kelce is one of the greatest tight ends the Chiefs have ever seen!"

You rolled your eyes and turned back to your diary for the day.

"Which you would know if you ever watched football with me!" He poked you in the arm with his finger.

You tore off the worksheet from the pad, "If I give you this, will you stop shouting and making my headache worse?"

You Dad carefully took the paper from your hands and gently kissed the top of your head before dancing his way out of the office and onto the shop floor, Travis' GMC waiting in the corner of the garage.

______________________________________________________________

Glancing at the digital clock on the wall, you noted that it was 6.25pm. All of your colleagues had already left for the day, leaving you in the shop by yourself. You preferred working alone but your Dad's business had built up a good reputation in the city for being the best repair shop and it was always busy.

When you were younger, you had always preferred fixing your Barbie's houses to make them better as apposed to playing with the dolls themselves. As a teenager you could always be found in the workshop tinkering with tools and learning everything you could from your Dad. You started helping him in his shop during the summer and when you left school, he took you on and gave you a job. You saved every penny you could and when your Dad needed to take a step back from work, you bought into the business, running it alongside him.

You gazed up at the underside of the Ford that was lifted above you, squinting as the night drew in. The crackled radio played in the background and as you hummed along to yourself, the faint sound of footsteps seemed to blend into the music.

"Um...hello?"

You turned your head towards the direction of the deep voice, a silhouette standing in the doorway of the shop.

You squinted further, trying to make out any defining features but to no avail. "Karl, if this is you trying to scare the shit out of me, you gotta try harder than that." You shook your head and dropped your wrench down onto the floor, the sound of the metal hitting the cement loudly echoing in the vast room.

The figure stepped further forwards, his hands held up, "I'm sorry...it's Travis. I'm just here to pick up my car?"

You felt your cheeks flush red, "Travis? I am so sorry, that was really unprofessional of me."

"Hey, it's all good! Don't worry, I probably shouldn't have lingered in the doorway watching you."

Your mouth twisted to the side, "You were watching me?"

His eyes grew bigger, "Not in a creepy way. But now I've said that it wasn't in a creepy way, it sounds like it was in a creepy way."

You wiped your hands on your towel, smiling slightly as you listened to him struggle.

"I was just...impressed. Like I said earlier, I have no clue when it comes to shit like this." He looked around the room at the various tools and parts that were dotted around.

You slowly nodded your head, "Well, thanks...I guess?"

Travis scratched the back of his head and looked down at his feet, a clear indication that he was nervous. You took the opportunity to really look at him. He was wearing bright white trainers, dark wash jeans and a Louis Vuitton jacket with a white shirt underneath. He was so pristine and you were quite concerned that he wouldn't make it out of the shop without a smudge of oil on him.

"So, my car?"

You looked towards it, digging the keys from one of your many pockets, a couple of bolts coming out with them, "Uh yeah, my Dad took great pride in fixing your car. He's a big fan."

"Oh yeah? Well please, tell your Dad I said thanks!" He smiled before looking around again, "You on your own?"

You sighed, "Yeah, I got a few things to clear up on these babies and then I'll be done."

He unlocked his car and opened the door, pausing for a second before he turned back to you, "Wanna go for a drink?"

Your heart stopped for a beat or two and your chest tightened, a feeling you weren't used to. Men didn't usually ask you out, especially not at work. You didn't exactly make an effort to only be covered in grease all day and everyone knew that your Dad wouldn't be far away, meaning most potential dates kept you very much at an arms length. But here he was, an exception.

"I've still got some work to do." You looked down at your current appearance, "And I might not be down with the latest trends, but I'm pretty sure no one will let me in anywhere looking like this."

Travis smiled coyly, "So, is that a no?"

You winced at his hidden hurt, guessing he wasn't used to women turning him down, "Thanks...but no." Digging into your pocket, you retrieved his invoice, black fingerprints smudged across the paper.

As he reached to take the invoice, his large hand covered yours and you subconsciously held your breath, a fast heat rising to your face.

"No sweat, I might see you around anyway?" He jumped into his car, turning the engine on, "I'll wire you the money for the spark...things."

You nodded in acknowledgement, watching as he pulled away carefully out of the garage and into the night. You unclenched your shoulders and laughed to yourself, turning your attention back to the Ford.

______________________________________________________________

"A package? Who from?" You questioned.

Jordan shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know. I didn't open it."

"We never get packages."

You became slightly distracted as Jordan tugged at the bottom hem of his hoodie and pulled it up and over his head, his shirt lifting up slightly to reveal a peek at his toned abs. He threw the garment onto the floor beside him and gazed at you.

"Y/N?"

You blinked, "Uh...I'll go and have a look now."

You furrowed your brows, making your way towards the office and shaking your head on the way, exacerbated at yourself.

On the desk was a small brown package with no indication of who it was from. You ripped open the paper and carefully pulled out the framed photograph. It was a picture of Travis midgame, the ball safely clutched in his gloved hands and speeding towards the end zone. He had signed the corner of the photograph. You turned the frame over to see some slightly messy handwriting on the back.

"For your Dad."

You smiled at his kind gesture.

"Let me know when you want to go for that drink."

______________________________________________________________

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[kat-thepoet]

Veins of Violet

Logan Howlett X Fem!Reader

Part 14: First impressions

A/N: Enjoy!

Previous Chapters ☞ HERE ☜

4.2k words

I watched as the man—Logan, Hank had called him—stormed off down the hallway, his shoulders tense, fists clenched at his sides. There was something almost animalistic about the way he moved, like a predator barely keeping itself in check. A knot of unease tightened in my stomach.

Who the hell was he?

For a moment, I just stood there, frozen, replaying the brief encounter in my mind. Logan's eyes had been so intense, filled with something I couldn't quite put my finger on—desperation? Anger? Whatever it was, it left me on edge. He looked at me like I was supposed to know him, like I was supposed to say something, do something, but I had no idea what.

I turned to Hank, who was still beside me, his expression a mix of concern and something else—sympathy, maybe. I didn't like that look; it made me feel like I was some sort of fragile thing that needed handling with care.

"What the hell was that?" I asked, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice and failing.

Hank hesitated, his gaze flickering down the hallway where Logan had disappeared. "It's nothing ," he said finally. "It's... complicated."

"Complicated?" I repeated, narrowing my eyes. "That's one way to put it. He just barges in here, glaring at me like I've done something wrong, and then storms off without a word? Who does that?"

Hank gave me a small, placating smile. "Logan's not usually like that," he said, choosing his words carefully. "He's been through a lot lately."

I crossed my arms, frustration bubbling to the surface. "And I haven't? Everyone here keeps talking to me like I should know what's going on, but no one's actually telling me anything. I feel like I'm stumbling around in the dark, and now this Logan guy shows up, acting like I owe him something. What's his deal?"

Hank's smile faded, replaced by a more serious expression. "I know this is all really confusing, Violet. And I wish I could explain everything, but... some things are better left alone until you're ready."

"Ready for what?" I demanded, my patience wearing thin. "Everyone's treating me like I'm going to break if I get too much information, but I'm not some delicate flower. I can handle it. I just want to know the truth."

Hank sighed, looking like he wanted to say more but was holding back. "Give it time," he said gently. "Logan... he's just as lost as you are right now."

I frowned, not liking the sound of that. How could this man, this stranger, be just as lost as I am? It didn't make any sense. But before I could press further, Hank changed the subject, guiding me away from the hallway and back toward the heart of the mansion.

As we walked, I couldn't shake the image of Logan's face—those intense eyes, the way his jaw clenched like he was holding back something dangerous. It was like he was a bomb waiting to go off, and I was just the spark needed to set him off. But why?

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Hank and I continued with our tour and began walking through the mansion. As we passed by what looked like a huge living room, I spotted Laura sitting on one of the couches, her expression distant.

"Laura?" I said, confused as to why she was here. "What are you doing here?"

She looked up at me, then quickly glanced at Hank, like she was waiting for his permission to speak. The hesitation in her eyes made something inside me twist uncomfortably.

"I, um, uh..." Laura stammered, clearly unsure of what to say or how to say it. I could see the struggle on her face, and it only made me more frustrated.

Hank, sensing her discomfort, gave her a reassuring nod. "It's okay, Laura. You can talk to her, just... don't overwhelm her, alright?"

That did it. My anger sparked again, burning through the thin veneer of calm I'd managed to put up. Overwhelm me? Why did everyone keep treating me like I was some fragile thing that might shatter at the slightest touch?

I could feel the emotions I'd been holding back start to bubble up, pushing against the walls I'd built around them. The frustration, the confusion, the deep, gnawing sense of loss—it all came crashing down on me like a wave I couldn't escape.

"I don't need to be handled with kid gloves!" I snapped, my voice louder than I intended. "I'm not some delicate flower! I'm—" I faltered, struggling to find the right words. "I'm just... lost. And no one will tell me anything! I can't remember, and it's killing me inside. Every time I try to reach for something, it slips away, like trying to grab smoke. And all of you—" I gestured wildly around me, "—are walking on eggshells, acting like I'm going to break at any second!"

I could feel my eyes start to sting, the frustration and helplessness threatening to spill over. Without another word, I turned and stormed off, not caring where I was going as long as it was away from everyone. The walls of the mansion felt too close, too suffocating, and I needed air—needed space.

I didn't stop until I was outside, my feet carrying me into the cover of some trees behind the mansion. The cool breeze hit my face, but it did little to calm the storm raging inside me. I leaned against a tree, trying to catch my breath, but the weight of everything—the memories I didn't have, the life I could barely remember—pressed down on me, making it hard to think, hard to breathe.

It was like I was drowning in a sea of confusion, with no shore in sight. And the worst part? I didn't even know where to start swimming.

As I sat down behind the tree, the cool ground beneath me, my head began to spin with a sudden, sharp pain. It was as if a vise had clamped down on my skull, tightening with every breath I took. The voices came back, flooding my mind with a cacophony of sounds—laughter, screams, crying. The noise was unbearable, each sound piercing through my thoughts like shards of glass. I couldn't tell if they were my own memories or someone else's, and that uncertainty only made it worse.

I pressed my hands against my temples, trying desperately to block out the noise, but it was like trying to hold back a tidal wave. The sounds kept coming, wave after relentless wave, threatening to tear my mind apart. I felt like my head was going to explode, the pressure building to a breaking point.

As I curled in on myself, trying to comfort my head, trying to distract myself from the pain, I heard footsteps behind me. They were soft, tentative, but I couldn't bear to deal with anyone right now, not when it felt like my mind was unraveling.

Without looking back, I managed to choke out, "Go away," my voice tight with the effort of holding back the pain. I didn't care who it was; I just needed to be alone, to find some way to make the noise stop before it drove me completely mad.

But the footsteps didn't retreat. Instead, they hesitated, lingering just out of sight. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to focus on anything but the relentless noise in my head, hoping that whoever it was would just leave me in peace.

I could still feel their presence, the weight of their gaze pressing down on me, refusing to leave. The pain in my head was unbearable, but the stubbornness of whoever it was only added to my frustration. With a shaky breath, I forced myself to turn around, ready to snap at them to go away. But when I looked up, the words died in my throat. It was Logan.

He stood there, a few feet away, his expression a mix of concern and something deeper, something I couldn't quite read. His eyes, those intense, haunted eyes, softened slightly when they met mine, but it did little to ease the turmoil inside me.

"You," I croaked, my voice barely above a whisper. I wanted to tell him to leave, to go away like I'd demanded, but the pain was too overwhelming, and all I could do was stare at him, struggling to keep it together.

Logan didn't move closer, but he didn't leave either. He just stood there, watching me with a quiet intensity that made it hard to look away. It was as if he knew, as if he could see the battle raging inside my head, and despite everything, he wasn't going to leave me alone to face it.

"Violet," he said softly, his voice a low rumble that somehow cut through the noise in my head. 

His words should have irritated me, should have made me want to lash out at him for not listening. But instead, there was a strange comfort in his presence, something solid to hold on to in the chaos. I didn't know why, but part of me felt like he was the only thing keeping me grounded, the only thing keeping me from completely falling apart.

I didn't have the strength to argue, so I just turned back around, curling into myself as I tried to weather the storm in my mind. The voices, the pain, everything was still there, but somehow, knowing Logan was behind me, standing guard, made it a little more bearable. And for now, that was enough.

Logan hesitated for a moment, as if unsure whether to come closer. But then he took a slow, deliberate step forward, and then another, until he was right next to me. Without saying a word, he lowered himself to the ground beside me, the weight of his presence both comforting and overwhelming. We sat there in silence, and gradually, the voices in my head began to fade, retreating into the background until they were finally gone.

The relief was so sudden and profound that it left me feeling raw and exposed. Before I could stop myself, I felt the tears welling up, the frustration, confusion, and fear all boiling over. I tried to hold them back, to keep it all contained, but it was useless. The dam broke, and I started to cry, the sobs coming out in ragged gasps.

Logan moved closer, his arm slipping around my shoulders in a tentative, almost hesitant gesture. He pulled me into a side hug, his touch firm yet gentle, as if he wasn't sure how much comfort I'd accept. Part of me wanted to slip away, to push him back and put up the walls I'd been trying so hard to maintain. But another part of me—stronger, more insistent—wanted to stay close to him, to lean into the warmth and solidness of his embrace. And that confused me. 

I didn't understand why, but being next to him felt... right. Like somehow, despite the mess in my head and the tangled web of emotions, this was where I needed to be. So I let myself stay, resting my head against his shoulder as I cried out all the pain and frustration I'd been holding inside.

Logan didn't say anything; he didn't need to. He just held me, his presence steady and unwavering, as if he was silently telling me that it was okay to let go, that I didn't have to carry this burden alone. And for the first time since waking up in this strange place, I felt like maybe I didn't have to.

So I stayed there, letting myself be vulnerable in a way I hadn't allowed in a long time, taking comfort in the quiet strength of the man beside me. And for reasons I couldn't explain, I didn't want to be anywhere else.

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After some time, my tears began to subside, the sobs gradually quieting into shaky breaths. I moved slightly away from Logan, releasing myself from his touch. The warmth of his arm left me feeling strangely cold, but I needed distance to gather my thoughts. Without looking at him, I asked the question that had been burning inside me since our first encounter.

"Who are you?" My voice was quiet, but there was a desperation behind it that I couldn't hide.

Logan looked at me, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. For a moment, he didn't speak, as if he was searching for the right words—or perhaps trying to decide whether he should say anything at all. But I couldn't let it go. I turned to face him, my eyes pleading for the answers I craved, the answers everyone seemed determined to keep from me.

Finally, he sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly under the weight of whatever he was holding back. "I'm Logan Howlett," he said, his voice low and rough.

I already knew that. I wanted more than just his name. I needed to understand why this man, this stranger, seemed so connected to me, why his presence stirred something deep within me that I couldn't explain.

"I already know that," I replied, my tone firmer now, pushing past the lingering vulnerability. "But who are you, really? Why do you... why does this feel..."

I trailed off, the words tangling in my throat. I couldn't quite put it into words, the way his presence affected me, the way it felt like there was something just beyond my reach, something vital that I couldn't remember. But Logan just looked at me, his expression conflicted, as if he wanted to tell me everything but was holding back.

"I'm... I'm someone who cares about you," he finally said, his voice almost a whisper. "More than you know. But right now, all you need to know is that I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

It wasn't the answer I wanted, but there was something in his tone, in the way he looked at me, that made me believe him. And maybe, for now, that had to be enough. But as much as I wanted to trust him, the gnawing frustration of not knowing who he truly was, of not understanding the depth of his connection to me, still lingered. "Why can't you just tell me?" I asked, the pleading note returning to my voice. "Why does everyone keep treating me like I'm made of glass? I can handle the truth, Logan. I need to handle it."

He looked away for a moment, his jaw tightening as if he was wrestling with something inside himself. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and filled with regret. "Because," he said slowly, turning his gaze back to me, "I'm not allowed to tell you. I'm sorry."

His words hit me like a slap in the face, and I felt my frustration spike again. It wasn't enough, and his apology didn't make it better. I rolled my eyes, unable to hide my annoyance. "If you're not going to tell me, then just stay away," I snapped, the hurt and anger mixing in my voice. "I don't need a stranger to comfort me."

The word "stranger" hung in the air between us, heavy and painful. I saw something flicker in his eyes—hurt, maybe, or something deeper that I couldn't quite read. But I didn't care. I was too angry, too frustrated with being kept in the dark, and I couldn't stand the thought of someone hovering around me, pretending to care, when they wouldn't even be honest with me.

Logan didn't say anything, but the way he looked at me made my chest tighten. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again, his expression conflicted. For a moment, I thought he might get up and leave, and part of me wanted him to. But another part of me, the part that was scared and lost, wasn't sure what it would feel like if he actually did.

"I'm not your enemy, Violet," he said quietly, his voice rough with emotion. "And I'm not going to leave you alone in this. Even if you hate me for it."

I wanted to argue, to tell him I didn't need him, but the words caught in my throat. Instead, I turned away, wrapping my arms around myself as if to shield myself from the confusing mess of emotions inside me. 

"Just... give me some space," I muttered, feeling exhausted and defeated.

Logan didn't say anything for a long moment, but I could feel his gaze on me, intense and unwavering. Finally, I heard him stand up, the sound of his footsteps retreating a few steps, but he didn't go far. He was still there, watching over me, even if it was from a distance.

And despite everything, despite the anger and frustration, a small part of me was relieved that he didn't go too far. And I hated it.

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After a few more moments of sitting there, I finally managed to calm down and gather my thoughts. With a deep breath, I pushed myself up from the ground and made my way back inside.

Logan was no longer in sight, which was good—at least, that's what I told myself. I didn't need him around, hovering like some silent guardian. I needed space to think, to figure things out on my own terms.

I headed to the kitchen, my throat dry and my mind still swirling with questions. A glass of water was all I needed, something to ground me, to bring me back to the present. But as I stepped into the kitchen, I stopped dead in my tracks.

There, standing by the counter, were two familiar faces—Wade and Vanessa. And beside them, as if the universe was playing some cruel joke, was Logan.

Wade was in the middle of some exaggerated story, his hands gesturing wildly as he spoke, while Vanessa looked on with an amused smile. Logan, however, was quieter, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, his gaze distant—until he noticed me. His eyes flicked to mine, and for a brief moment, I thought I saw something like relief cross his face, but it was gone before I could be sure.

"Violet!" Wade's voice broke through my thoughts, his usual enthusiasm completely undeterred by the tension that seemed to hang in the room. Before I could react, he was already across the room, wrapping me in a tight, almost bone-crushing hug. I weakly returned it, grateful for his familiar energy but too drained to match it.

"Wade," I mumbled into his shoulder, trying to muster a smile as I patted his back. His embrace was a bit overwhelming, but there was something comforting about it too—like being wrapped in a blanket of chaotic but well-meaning affection.

Wade finally released me, his grin wide and genuine. "You look like you could use about five more of those," he said with a wink, though his eyes held a hint of concern.

Vanessa, who had been standing nearby, got up and came over to hug me as well, her touch much gentler but no less warm. "How are you feeling, Violet?" she asked softly, her voice filled with a tenderness that made the knot in my chest tighten. It was as if she could sense the emotional storm I'd just been through, and her hug was like a lifeline, something to cling to in the chaos.

I hesitated, my eyes flicking back to Logan for a split second before I forced myself to focus on Vanessa. "I'm... fine," I said, though the word felt hollow, even to me. "Just needed some air."

Wade grinned, clearly oblivious to the undercurrent of tension. "Air, water, fire—whatever you need, we've got it here. Well, except for fire. They don't trust me with matches after the 'incident.' But don't worry, I've got a lighter somewhere."

Logan rolled his eyes at Wade's antics but didn't say anything. I could feel his presence, heavy in the room, and it made it hard to focus on anything else.

"I just came to get a glass of water," I mumbled, making my way to the sink, hoping to avoid any more awkwardness.

Vanessa gave me a small, understanding smile. "Of course. Take your time."

As I filled the glass, I could feel the weight of Logan's gaze on me, and it took everything in me not to look back at him. I didn't want to deal with whatever unspoken tension was brewing between us, not now, not after everything.

But as much as I tried to ignore it, I couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted in that moment behind the trees—something I wasn't ready to face but knew I couldn't avoid forever.

I couldn't stand what I was feeling, even though I didn't even know what I was feeling. It was all too much—too confusing, too overwhelming—so I left the kitchen quickly, hoping to escape before anyone could say anything more. As I turned to leave, I heard Vanessa call out behind me, but I didn't stop. I just needed to get away, to find some place where I could breathe, where I could be alone.

My feet carried me instinctively to the medical wing, the only place in this massive mansion that felt somewhat familiar, even if it was for all the wrong reasons. I wanted to lay down, to close my eyes and shut everything out, just for a little while.

But no matter how quickly I walked, Vanessa still managed to catch up to me. She was persistent, and as much as I wanted to be left alone, a part of me knew she wouldn't let that happen.

"What's wrong?" Vanessa asked, her voice gentle but filled with concern as she finally caught up to me.

"I just... I don't even know," was all I could manage to say, my voice shaky and uncertain. How could I explain what I didn't even understand myself?

Vanessa stayed by my side as we walked to the bed where I'd been confined for a week. It felt strange, standing there again, staring at the place where I'd been so vulnerable, so lost. But right now, it was the only place that felt remotely safe.

We stepped inside the room, and I closed the door behind us, shutting out the world and all the confusing emotions that came with it. I moved over to the bed and sat down, feeling the cool, sterile sheets beneath my fingers. Vanessa stayed close, her presence steady and comforting, even as my mind raced with thoughts I couldn't quite pin down.

I didn't know what to say, didn't know how to explain the storm of feelings swirling inside me. All I knew was that I felt like I was on the verge of breaking, and I didn't even know why.

Vanessa sat down beside me, her hand resting gently on my shoulder. "It's okay, Violet," she said softly. "You don't have to have all the answers right now. Just take your time."Her words were kind, but they only made the knot in my chest tighten. I wanted answers—I needed them—but every time I reached for one, it slipped through my fingers, leaving me more lost than before.

"I feel like I'm drowning," I whispered, the confession spilling out before I could stop it. "Like everything is just... too much."

Vanessa squeezed my shoulder, offering silent support. "You've been through a lot," she said gently. "It's okay to feel overwhelmed. No one expects you to figure it all out at once." I looked at Vanessa, the desperation clear in my voice. "Can you please just tell me what happened?" I begged, my eyes searching hers for any sign of the truth. "It's only been a day, and I feel like I'm driving myself crazy trying to put the pieces together with no guide."

Vanessa's expression softened, a mix of empathy and concern filling her eyes. She took a deep breath, clearly weighing her words before she spoke. "Violet, I wish I could tell you everything," she began slowly, her tone careful and gentle, "but there are things that... it's not my place to say. I know how frustrating that must be, but it's for your own well-being."

I felt a surge of frustration rise within me, the confusion and helplessness threatening to spill over again. "How can keeping me in the dark be good for me?" I asked, my voice trembling. "I just want to understand—why won't anyone help me do that?"

Vanessa reached out, taking my hand in hers. "I'm not trying to keep you in the dark, I promise," she said softly. "But there are things about your past, about what happened, that are complicated. It's not as simple as just telling you the facts. Your mind and body have been through a lot, and sometimes, forcing memories or information can do more harm than good."

I bit my lip, trying to hold back the wave of frustration that threatened to overwhelm me again. "I'm just so tired of feeling lost," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "I can't stand not knowing who I am or what's real."

Vanessa squeezed my hand gently, her gaze steady. "You're not alone in this, Violet. We're all here to help you, even if it doesn't feel like it right now. But you have to trust the process, as hard as that is. The pieces will come together, I promise you that. It just takes time."

I nodded, though the reassurance felt hollow. I wanted to trust her, to believe that things would eventually make sense, but the uncertainty was suffocating. Still, I held on to her words, hoping that maybe, just maybe, she was right. That the answers would come in time, and that somehow, I would find my way through the darkness.

Next chapter: Part 15: A change of scenery

[south-of-heaven]

poly judgement day x fem reader where reader finds her childhood comfort show and doesn’t leave her room all day?

Caught up || The Judgement Day x Reader

Summary: You end up finding your favourite childhood show and end up binge watching it, forgetting to take care of yourself.

As you settled into the cozy cocoon of your bedroom with your laptop, you had no idea what you were getting into. The nostalgia bug had bitten you, and you found yourself binge-watching episodes of a TV show you used to love as a kid. The hours melted away, and you became completely engrossed in the fictional world on your screen.

Unbeknownst to you, your partners, Rhea, Dominik, Damian, and Finn, had been out for most of the day. When they finally returned home, they expected to find you in a different state than the one they left you in that morning. However, as they entered your bedroom, they discovered you in the exact same spot, eyes glued to the screen.

Rhea sighed, disappointment etching her features. "Really, [Your Name]? You've been here all day?"

Finn, with a more stern tone, chimed in, "You didn't even come out to eat or take care of yourself?"

Damian, ever the empathetic one, looked at you with concern, his eyes reflecting his worry. Dominik, on the other hand, silently left the room to fetch you a snack.

Feeling their combined weight of concern and mild frustration, you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. Their reactions made it seem like you had done something terribly wrong.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you stammered out an apology, "I'm so sorry, guys. I didn't mean to...I just got caught up in the show, and I didn't even realize how much time had passed."

Rhea's expression softened, and Finn's sternness gave way to a sigh of exasperation. Damian stepped closer to you, his hand gently resting on your shoulder.

"Hey, it's okay," he reassured you. "We were just worried about you. You can't forget to take care of yourself like this."

Before you could reply, Dominik returned with a plate of snacks in hand. He offered it to you with a small, understanding smile. "Here, [Your Name], have something to eat. We're not mad, just concerned."

Their compassion washed over you like a soothing balm, easing the guilt that had been gnawing at your conscience. You gratefully accepted the snack from Dominik and took a few bites, finally realizing just how hungry you were.

After a few moments of comforting silence, you decided to make amends. "You know what? Since I've got you all here, why don't we watch an episode of this show together? It used to be my absolute favorite."

The corners of your partners' lips turned up into smiles as they settled in around you. The guilt was replaced by warmth and affection, and together, you all enjoyed a nostalgic trip down memory lane, just like one big, happy family.

[apostaterevolutionary]

So I touched on this a little in my veilguard review, but this is one of the topics I wanted to talk about separately. And it’s that I think I've figured out what really makes an rpg great vs just not bad for me. This is really a preference thing, cause I know there's people who are the exact opposite on this. But for me, it's about the amount of personal involvement the player character has

Like why are you, as the main character, here? Why do we care about the plot that's unfolding? Is it just cause 'well, world needs saving and I'm here', that's not very interesting to me. It's too replaceable - any sufficiently valiant person could do this (even in a chosen one narrative, this is typically true). 'Wrong place, wrong time' can be fun if done right, but it's still eh to me. I like it best when the player character has some tie to the overarching plot. I want it to be personal because that opens up so many more interesting emotions

Dragon age has examples of both of these. Origins, despite the Warden canonically being replaceable, as we know all the origins happened, it's just only one actually survived, does have this personal element imo because it has Ostagar. Different Wardens might see this differently, of course, but you arrive after just barely being saved by Duncan. Everything seems fine until the big moment and then everything goes wrong - you're betrayed, from your pov, Duncan is killed, and you wouldn't survive this third near-death experience in a row were it not for Flemeth's interference. This, in the moment, feels pretty damn personal. No matter who your warden is, Loghain acts as a personal antagonist right up until right before the end, whereas while the blight situation is mostly a 'wrong place, wrong time' situation, that personal element plus the little moments you get that reference the origin events really make it work for me. It could have more, but it has just enough to make it really good imo

Of course, DA2 is so strong on the personal motive front that arguably the personal story is actually the overarching plot and it's just occasionally a wider-impact event creeps into it lmao but that's why it's my favourite game. Inquisition, on the other hand, while yes, you have the mark and are the only one who can close the breaches, that is the only tie you have to events. The inquisitor has no motive beyond 'well, world needs saving'. If the anchor had somehow been transferable, Cassandra quite frankly would've made a more compelling protagonist because of her devotion to the Divine. She had a reason to be there beyond just 'gotta save the world'. The inquisitor doesn't, they’re really just there because they have to be (and that’s also why I think their appearance in veilguard is pretty weak imo, but people with different views of their inquisitor will disagree there)

And I'm not comparing, rather just using an example, but bg3 I think has both options. For me, durge is much more interesting than tav cause, once again, tav is just some guy (gender neutral) who happened to stumble by at the wrong time and oops, brain worm. Even the emperor would've happily discarded them for another if it served his purpose. They're just there because they're convenient. That's not as fun to me as durge, who has an actual personal reason to be involved in this, even if they don't know it at first. It starts out as the same, generic motivation of 'get rid of the brain worm, try to save world if we can' (assuming a relatively "good" playthrough lmao, but for comparison's sake) but it later becomes something that is personal. You have a VERY direct involvement in the plot and it really adds something to it for me. That's the kind of flavour I seek 🤌 🤌 🤌

And veilguard is definitely more on the inquisition side where literally any heroic person could fill in for the protagonist (and tbf, I liked it more than inquisition), when I think what really would’ve brought it over the top for me would’ve been some act 2 Personalized Horror event to happen. Easiest option would be something related to the faction, like maybe one of the recurring NPCs ends up dying in some really hardcore way. It wouldn’t be that hard to implement imo because it could be roughly the same quest, just with tweaks to fit the chosen faction. Giving Rook a personal motivation would’ve really spice things up and give the factions more depth too. If you play as a warden, I think weisshaupt may have that affect (which is why my second run will be a warden lmao), but it would be nice to have something really devastating for the character regardless of faction

(And to be perfectly honest, if we were going to lose a companion anyway, having that happen in the middle of the game might have actually been spicier and really cemented Rook’s conviction while still having the regret prison concept work imo. It would mean missing out on a companion arc, but it’s another option at least)

This would also give an opportunity to really boost the companion relationships. Like the Bad Thing happens and then you get maybe a little scene with the current love interest, or even just some dialogue with each of the companions. Something with them being the ones to comfort Rook for a change. Cause all that remains is devastating, and the bg3 act 2 redemptive durge scene is wonderful, but it’s also the aftermath that’s really tasty. And having some sort of Personalized Horror for Rook would’ve given us an opportunity to have that moment of them being vulnerable, and the companions stepping up to help them. That really would’ve made the team feel good and cemented, like they really were a strong team

And again, I know this is a personal preference thing. I have a friend who struggles whenever a game has any kind of established background at all and thinks that bg3’s tav is the absolute perfect kind of rpg protagonist and I’m sure there’s plenty of people who agree and prefer the fully blank slate. Some people do prefer to just headcanon all of this rather than have it directly in the game. And that’s fine. But for me, that personal involvement and motive is the real special sauce for rpgs and I think that’s why DA2 specifically is the one that made me insane lmao. And I think if veilguard had’ve had that bit of personalized angst, I would’ve put it an entire bracket higher than I did. It would’ve fit really well imo and idk if it was something bioware ever planned for the game, but I, for one, really would’ve loved it

[olivsie]

Something I like about epic the musical is that it Gives it's changes to the original text an actual Purpose

( The first couple paragraphs are basically a rant regarding retellings. If you only want to hear about epic Skip to paragraph 4)

1. I am a bit annoyed by the lack of. Understanding as to why RETELLINGS aren't the most historicaly accurate things in the world. Sorry to break this to you, but that's both just how they work and I would guess how they reach success. Ancient Greece is a much different culture than our own, And most of us would be terrified to actually live back then. When you are Trying to create content That is based on ancient Greece And you want it to be successful/ At least reach a wide, and notably, MODERN audience. You're likely going to have to take some creative liberty And change a few things. Don't get me wrong, YOU DO NOT HAVE TO LIKE RETELLINGS KNOWING THAT FACT ( Me personally, I'm not the biggest fan of Miller's novels Even though I do like epic) BUT IT IS SOMETHING TO BE AWARE OF. And because of that I don't think I would ever expect a retelling to be perfectly accurate And I don't. I had interest in mythology LONG before epic the musical But I didn't actually read the Odyssey until getting into epic. I did not expect it To be just like the musical, I knew Odysseus was going to be much more of an asshole, along with other characters. The odyssey and epic are different pieces of media to me And I am not less of a mythology nerd for liking epic ( Though I will admit that sometimes I take tiny little fun facts of mythology And like to think of them in the context of epic, but that's just for fun.)

2. The Only time being a fan of retellings is wrong as if you genuinely believe they are perfectly accurate And refuse to listen to anything else ( Which has definitely happened, And mythology nerds have the right to be annoyed at that)

3. Some people only like to consume real mythology media, Others like both real mythology and retellings, Others only like to engage with retellings (I would hope they have the self-awareness to know It's not real mythology, From what I've seen some do and some don't, Unfortunately)

4. Ok. now on to what the title of this long ass rant says

I like that epic the musical Retells the story, Not only to both cater to modern audience But Also with its OWN purpose of man versus monster.

Obviously, this is not the point of the original text. Mythos Odysseus does not give a single fuck About the stuff that epic odysseus does. I don't know why the creator Decided to rewrite it this way, (If he's ever said why let me know) But I would assume he wanted to make something about the oddessy And this was simply a very creative way to Translate that for modern audience.

I like this because, yes, holy damn. It does have changes from the original text. But it's not JUST changing it. It's changing it with a purpose

It feels reminiscent of some kind of Dramatic play. the way that epic characterizes.

Polites' kind nature is Representative of the Concept of being merciful Represented in his lines such as " This life is amazing when you greet it with open arms" /"There is so much guilt inside your heart, So why not replace it?"

While in contrast you have eurylochus with more ruthlessness and cautious nature, this is Found in some of his lines such as "You rely on wit, and people die on it" /"we don't know what's ahead" / "I say we strike first. We don't have time to waste so lets raid the place-" /"Let's just cut our losses, You and I and let's run"

And then you have Odysseus, the man/monster. The first act of this Musical is his internal struggle With what He should be On that scale. And the other characters Represent this struggle in the song monster

" Is the cyclops struck with gilt when he kills, is he up in the middle of the night? Or does he end my men to avenge his friend and then Sleep knowing he has done him right?

When the witch turns men to pigs to protect her nymphs, is she going insane? Or did she learn to be colder when she got older and now she saves them the pain?

When a God comes down and makes a Fleet drown Is he scared that he's doing something wrong? Or does he keep us in check So we must respect him and now no one dares to piss him off"

He then Applies this to himself

" Does a soldier use a wooden horse to kill sleeping trojans cause he is vile? Or does he throw away his remorse and save more lives with guile?"

And this marks his turning point of deciding that Ruthlessness It's ultimately worth it if it means Getting home, as aeolus says "The end Always justifies the means"

It's in my opinion, a very creative way to go about retelling a myth. Is it accurate? Absolutely not. For example, circe (From what we know) is not protecting When she turns men into pigs, For all we know, she could just do it because Shits and giggles.

Her character and most others in epic is changed from the original. But it's not ONLY changing for the sake of apeling to the modern Western audience and being successful like Many other retellings. It is also and mainly changing for the sake of influencing the plot that Jorge Rivera herrans crafted For the sake of Retelling epic. It is creative and I enjoy it despite knowing it's not accurate.

[roleplay-evil]

Resident Evil 7 Biohazard Starters

"You know what they say—once family, always family."

"You're part of the family now."

"Welcome to the family, [name]."

"That's family business, [name], and not your concern, understand?"

"This is my home. Apparently, I belong here."

"So, why are we in hell this time?"

"They're relying on me. Everyone is relying on me. Everyone!"

"You don't exactly seem like you're playing with a full deck yourself."

"Goddamnit, how am I gonna replace this?"

"Ah, shit! I knew I shouldn't have worn my good shoes."

"You came to the wrong house, [name]."

"I told you to stay out of here."

"Alright, new deal. We-we find [name] and we go."

"You, my friend, you are one lucky son of a bitch."

"I'm sorry... but they're, uh, they're dead now."

"Yeah, it is your fault. But that doesn't mean I'm gonna let you die."

"You kill me, and I just come right on back!"

"I'm going to enjoy watching you die."

"Motherfucker! You were supposed to die!"

"Sure as shit beats the hell outta dying."

"Idiot—you can't kill me."

"Do me a favor and stay dead."

"Leave me to die!"

"Forget that you ever knew me."

"Come on—don't you die on us now. You have work to do."

"You don't understand or is it that you just don't care?"

"Don't worry, I'm still here."

"Now, we got several calls about some missing persons lately."

"[name]! Thank god I found you. It's me. It's [name]!"

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead! It's time for supper."

"Glad I had my shots."

"You better now?"

"Well, come on. Take a chance. You never know."

"That is not groovy."

"What the fuck? That's special."

"You can't hide from me, [name]!"

"Don't you go anywhere!"

"Alright, you little cocksucker, let's get down to business!"

"I know you and [name] are plotting. I know you are scheming."

"Where'd you get yourself to, hm? Where are you?!"

"Thought you'd just slip out before dinner was done?"

"It won't be long before I find you and kill you."

"I'm gonna squash you like a bug."

"You think you can hurt me?"

"You're going to wish you'd never been born."

"I'm gonna take you for a ride!"

"This is going to be fun. Just you wait."

"You're gonna die in this hole and you're gonna like it!"

"Fuck it! I'm gonna kill every one of you."

"I will find them and I will make them suffer."

"You better start running, [name]!"

"They're dead! They're all dead!"

"I can't let [name] catch me again!"

"What's wrong? Step on it!"

"You're the first I've ever seen make it this far."

"Gotta say, I'm impressed. Not only are you still alive, you have all your fingers and toes."

"You're gonna have to do better than that, [name]."

"You're wasting your time."

"Here I come."

"You need to go. I won't be able to resist for much longer."

"You gotta give me your gun!"

"Oh! Good news! I'm going to be coming home soon! Yay!"

"Who the hell else was I gonna choose?"

"Are you having fun yet?"

"You got yourself a booboo?"

"I told you, don't you fuck with me."

"Not now. We need to get out of here first."

"You were right. I did lie to you."

"You gotta earn your way, [name]!"

"What is this place? What did they do to you?"

"There's another door here. I'm sure of it."

"You're a son of a bitch!"

"Now look what you've done, motherfucker!"

"Fuck you and the horse you rode in on."

"Kiss my ass."

"Dumb son of bitch wouldn't know good if it hit them!"

"Goddamnit! I bet it's that cop again..."

"I only work with professionals."

"I'm an old man, [name]. You can't take on an old man?"

"Hey! One of those is mine."

"Why are you putting me through this?"

"Well, don't just stand there—do something!"

"I know I can't expect anything from you. Not after what happened. After what I did."

"I am sick and tired over being sick and tired of your bullshit."

"I'm tired of waiting."

"It has taken me weeks to finish this, and it is finally ready." And it's all for you."

"What the fuck are you, [name]?"

"I got the gift running all through me! All through me!"

"I don't understand you at all. This is a gift."

"There are known unknowns here, and you are not paying fucking attention!"

"Do I have your attention, [name]? You're about to see something wonderful."

"We love you... Why can't you see that?!"

"Why does everyone hate me?"

"You see, [name], not everybody wants to turn back the clock."

"This joy? Why, you can't fake this."