#I think what Knives Out and Ready Or Not have in common is that on top of being political commentary

[mangled-by-disuse]

uhhh lemme think...

Quest for Camelot, which I loved originally (and I think might have suggested to you?) but then went back and rewatched and was like aw damn this kinda sucks actually (probably for the same reason I liked it as a kid, which is: good god the 90s shallow feminism is inescapable and representative of all my worst childhood opinions)

V for Vendetta and I, Robot, which I think I experience in the same way you're describing The Menu, Knives Out, and Ready Or Not (...although Ready Or Not I mostly enjoyed in a way entirely separate from its political themes.)

I hate Rocky Horror in a way that's probably like 90% a pushback to people insisting that I have to like it, and 10% just Not My Vibe. that's the main one where i keep seeing it on people's lists and being like "yes i watched it but not by choice ugh".

I think those were the ones I was thinking of?

bandwagon hopping

[eternitariant]

Sketchy

cw//tw//~ knives, blood, bruising, biting, vvv subtle lowkey hints towards sub/dom dynamic, one brutal physical assault (he's very protective... what can i say)

You were walking to your next class when someone’s shoulder slammed into you and sent you flying back into the lockers-

“Ow, Jesus.” You muttered, moving your shoulder back and forth to ensure that you still could,

“Stay out of my way.” Debbie Marlston, your most common tormenter glared at you and you rolled your eyes before continuing towards the classroom.

You sat towards the back of the room and used the time to focus more on a personal project than pay attention to the teacher’s lesson, it wasn’t anything that you didn’t already know anyway. As you sketched out the next frame of your project, someone cleared their throat beside you to get your attention,

“What?” you snipped, not even bothering to look up at them because you knew who it was,

“See, that sparkling attitude is exactly why you have no friends…”

“Well what are you then huh? A charity worker?” you quipped and your best friend laughed,

“This is really coming along. I’ve never seen you so focused… or inspired.” She held one of your loose pages and inspected it, “Shits getting kinda dark though, don’t you think?”

She was holding a drawing of a scene where your protagonist was covered in her own blood after letting someone carve a confession into her skin- it was graphic but that was kind of the point,

“Not even close. Not yet.” You smiled and she laughed,

“Whatever, just don’t cut me up into tiny pieces when you finally lose it.”

After school, you made your way home by taking your usual route along the creek and you were silently plotting out the next chapters of your story when you were interrupted,

“Your arm.” He growled and you turned your head,

“Patrick, it’s nothing.”

“It’s not fucking nothing, tell me who.” He demanded, grabbing your waist to still your frame. His dark eyes were boring into your soul and you knew that you if didn’t tell him, he’d just take it out on everyone.

“Debbie.”

“Good Girl.” He praised and you swallowed before walking again, “Ah, hold on. You haven’t shown me the next part.”

You nodded and handed him your sketchbook. He flipped through it, his smirk growing into a full blown proud smile by the end,

“I like this part.” He announced lowly and you subtly smiled,

“Figured you might, you sick freak.”

“Which part do you want to recreate tonight then, princess?” he asked, slinging his arm around your shoulders,

“It’s nothing we haven’t done before… maybe you should come up with something inspiring, Trickster.” You teased and he raised an eyebrow,

“Challenge accepted.”

Patrick was trailing kisses all over your bare skin when he reached the bruise that he hadn’t made,

“No one ever gets to mark you but me, you understand?” it wasn’t really a question so much as a command and you just nodded slowly to express your compliance, “Good girl. Roll over.” He said, lifting your hips and helping you do as he had said. He pulled his pocket knife from his jeans and lightly skimmed the tip of the blade along your spine before he used his free hand to grip into your waist and where his thumb had left an impression, he made a cut. You hissed but you certainly didn’t dislike the feeling.

“Just mapping you out baby.” He whispered, kissing the opposite side before doing the same thing so that you would have symmetrical scars.

His breath fanned your neck before he sunk his teeth into your uninjured shoulder, breaking the skin and very lightly sucking as he released his bite,

“Ready for me yet, angel?” he asked and you only answered him with pleas, begging him to give you what you needed. He chuckled lowly at how desperate you’d become and how pliable you were for him. That was probably his favourite thing about you

“Dude! Did you hear?” your best friend bombarded you the second you set foot inside the school,

“Hear what?”

“Y/N, Debbie Marlston was attacked last night.” She blurted and you just stared at her blankly,

“How?”

“Her neighbour is Hilary’s cousin and he said that she was like in her backyard or whatever, having a smoke and then this guy came out of nowhere and cut her fingers off with those like giant hedge scissor things, isn’t that so insane?” she was shocked and kinda grossed out but she definitely wasn’t upset and neither were you…

“Do they know who did it?”

“Fucking clueless. Whoever it was, they did us all a favour if you ask me.”

Patrick naturally followed you home, as always and so as you were walking you asked

“Hedging shears… who’d you steal those from?”

He laughed, “That’s what you’re worried about?”

“Not worried, just curious. They better not have come from my house, Hockstetter.” You warned,

“You don’t even have any hedges idiot.” He drawled before he cupped your face with a firm grip and his expression shifted drastically as his eyes narrowed at you, “Now, what did I say?”

“Not to worry about it.” You whispered meekly,

“There’s my girl.” He smiled, “What else do you say?”

“Thank you.” Your voice was still hushed but he nodded at you,

“That’s fucking right.”

[edenspoem]

SEXROT 𖤐 | ellie williams

☠︎︎࿐-ˊˎ jackson!ellie x fem!reader

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

✧˖ ° 🕯 bright blessings!

AN: second fic ever published, it took sm longer but has more focus on the smut part of it. maybe the epilogue is a bit more casually written but its whatevs y'all def just here for the smut anyway. but(t) i hope u enjoy!! cause i sure did!! various times.

cw/tags: NSFW 18+ MDNI, smoking weed, getting high, friends to lovers, flirting, killing infected, guns, knives, blood description, replaces the jackson patrol scenario, spitting, dom leaning ellie, fingering (receiving, vaginal) clit stim (receiving and giving-ish) strap penetration (receiving, vaginal) oral (receiving) petnames (babe,baby,babygirl,princess) almost caught naked tewgether 😈(not in the act)

WC: 6.6k+

designated song: anesthesia- type o negative

synopsis: you have resided in jackson for about six months solo in a humble cabin only a stroll away from the lively community plaza. ellie introduced herself to you two months ago on the full lunar night of a bonfire and have proved inseparable ever since. both of you had a couple things in common upholding your friendship but lots of new experiences arise from beneath those shared interests. one day, you and ellie embark on the scheduled patrol for that afternoon, plowing through scattered clusters of infected inhabiting dilapidated buildings lost in the past. presently, after trudging the pearly snow and eluding the raging snowstorm, tucking both of you into a lone library sitting amongst those very buildings, brimmed with a 'herby' mystery.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Your uneasy fingers grasp the rustic steel door handle, deprived of the haven sourced on the summit of your horse's saddle minutes prior to entering this enigma of a building. Not a soul has settled within these walls for a considerable stretch of time and it shows, dust cloaking the floor, a void pooling in various corners of each room, the stuffy and still air clogging your senses and peculiar noises erupting from either your mind or physical reality. You roll the knob and push the loose door open, hinges creaking untimely with the lingering presence of a clicker revealing itself with the infamous croaks emitting from its fungal body.

Ellie is close behind, poised over your crouched shoulder with hawk pupils scanning the room you've just discovered. Her hand nudges you and deviates your focus from the room, honing on what she was mouthing in empty words.

"Watch my back, I'm gonna sneak up on it." 

You nod subtly in accordance, flattening your back against the icy door to make a path for her.

Ellie extends her gloved hand out on the doorways trim, shuffling on crouched legs past you and into the pigsty of an office, steadily approaching the mindless croaking clicker.

Your fingers seize the pistol sheathed in its thigh holster, provoking the trigger with dual fingers ready to fire a round right in the clickers noggin if need arises. The creaky chatter cracking from the fungoid continues as Ellie creeps upon its obliviousness, pouncing timely and capturing it in headlock as she fluidly jabs her switchblade into its rigid neck, spewing crimson blood outwards that painted her sleeve quite disgustingly.

"Uck," she conveys, face contorted with sourness.

Stillness remains until the coast proves clear, giving you a chance to address, "All good, no more infected." 

"Well, it's about fucking time!" she heaves the figurative indent of edge from her tense chest, flicking off strings of blood from her winter sweater.  "Think this doors' unlocked?" She queries herself prior to twiddling with the rattling door knob of a possible exit.

Your wandering eyes uncover the roughly concealed red and grey steel box, internalizing instantly that it was a generator, "Hey, 'Williams', there's a generator." you make known to Ellie, who's not even facing it.

She turns around, "Where there's a generator, there's a hideout. We could use the supplies, so.." she sauntered over to the generator, folding her knuckles around the pull-tab, "Hope they don't mind us borrowing- also, don't call me by my last name!" 

You snort a genuine laugh and ogle the way Ellie cranks the cord, arm so stable and fierce. You felt like a bumbling idiot for admiring her mere movements, but something under the skin pined for her in a way unfathomable at first glint. Her cinnamon dotted cheeks, badass scar slanting in her brow, fluorescent fauna irises, button nose and the sheer nerd that she was really spun the tide coalescing within your tenuous heart. On the other hand, her mannerisms, thrumming husky voice and attitude frets the knot in your pelvis beyond a fixing point you can't manage alone.

"C'mon, lights are on in here." Her voice snuffs the ramblings clogging your brain, grasping your attention towards the door swinging open just now.

You stare into her pupils barreling into you, now twisting a impishly curious visage.

"What'chu thinking about?" 

Your eyes flicker, "Nothing." A clod draws from your tense gullet, gulping the trance that bewitched your susceptible mind.

"Doesn't look like 'nothing'." She prys with a low gravelly tone, waddling languidly towards you.

"Nothing." You pursue vaguely, dusting past Ellie in a swift pace.

She just gawks at you, thin grooves in-between her knitted brows while she swung her head round to trail her eyes after you. Admittedly, she entertained the stray thoughts of you mutually, as the living recreations of you are sunken into her journals pages habitually. Her wrist recalls every arch and convex of your face, fingers honor the sway of your eye shape, subconscious retains the wisping of your baby hairs and consciously, Ellie just knows you as 'cute girl'. That very title is etched under the whole lot of depictions reaping your glamor throughout her journal.

"You think Eugene used this place too? I mean, all this electrical shit, nobody'd tinker with it except him." She infers, reverting to the eased doorway you just proceeded through.

Your void mind instantly heeds the flurry of wired veins branched across the next room. Your eyes trace the river of cords until it vanishes between the wall and a peculiar bookcase. Illumination pummels through the frayed wood planks backing it, luring your mind towards this enigma.

"Yo, check this out." You hoist an observation aloud, Ellie's umber auburn head whirls to peek at your discovery.

"What the fuck?" An airy chuckle grates from her throat in awe, peachy lips ajar and nooks of her mouth flexing into a smirk.

You lend your weight upon this bookcase, plateauing to drive the colossal bookshelf from where it's planted. "Ugh, a little help?"

Ellie giggles at your measly endeavor to motivate the shelf, that dumb wide crescent grin bearing upon her spread lips, "Got no muscles or something?" she quips.

"Shut up!"

She caves in and assists you regardless, moseying around and towering over you, casting a dark specter across your body. It was a casual stance, but quivers your beating core nonetheless. The noise of scratches indenting underneath the hefty bookcase as it drags screeches in your hollow eardrums.

"There." Ellie claims hoarsely, whooshing her breath against your bare neck and scoring numerous hairs to plumb from your skin.

Shaking it off, you embark through the threshold, eyes tunneling upon a downward staircase beckoning you to traverse to its descendant level.

"Tch, did Eugene own a sex dungeon?" Ellie immaturely cracks, scurrying down the steps faster than a dog could.

"I hope. That dude was lonely." You jest back in emphasis, earning a gust of laughter past Ellie's lips.

"Think we'll find scary whips and chains in there?"

"Oh my god, Els! I don't think he was into that kinda stuff." You hop a step, springing upon her and jabbing your stiff knuckles into her unalerted shoulder blades playfully.

"Ouch! It was only a theory." her voice curves in defense, sowing her feet flat after the last tread of stairs. 

You tumble your eyes accompanied by a sigh, beating her to the door and pushing it open to a sight your noses realistically should have detected a floor above. Least of all ambrosial, the fetid source birthed from a garden of weed, some potted, some dangling, lots cascading over the steel tables, essentially, a fuck ton of herb.

"Unholy shit!" You expound with starstruck pupils, molting away the playful exterior you harbored just moments ago and cast an astonished visage.

"Did he grow.. all of this?" Ellie doesn't grapple with the notion of it right away, but soon materializes it in her cranium and wanders over to a pot of the dried sage green herbage.

"Must've taken ages.." you pondered, plucking a brittle leaf off its hunched stem, chafing it to ash between the pads of your glove-clad digits, "And a day.." you slyly add in regards to the weeds dehydrated state.

Ellie stupidly grins in reaction to your joke, baring teeth and all. She strides past arrays of trays, rustling the herbs strung up to the ceiling. Her eyes land upon an obscure shape, alluring her to inspect the properties of this object. She erupts, "It's a gas mask bong." cradling the mask in her hands, infatuated by its genius design.

"In what situation would you even use that?" you doubt it's anything more than plain goofy.

"Emergency relief?"

"Of course you'd know how."

"Hey, I don't smoke that often!" she wards in a pitched tone, scoffing at your mere belittling.

You reel back into a searching mode, lurking among the next isle of weed till a glass jar of blunts enlightens you. "Ellie, there's a jar of this shit!" 

"Oh for real?" she trots hastily to your region, bearing a vivacious fever at the sight beholding a for real container of rolled blunts.

"Think it's fresh?"

Ellie hums an 'I dunno', cusping the jar from your hands and wrenching the lid with all her might, not budging at all. It takes her a blur of tries, observing the way her thick brows purse together and summon those vertical grooves in her forehead, an attractive sight to you.

"You need help?" you mock her, unzipping and unsheathing your arms out of the slim fitted sleeves fashioning your winter jacket.

"No, I got it." Ellie assures with a cluster of uncertainty smothering her strained voice. She had to practically arch over and bound the jar to her abdomen for faltering pressure.

"Gimme that." you snatch the glass from her dense grip, garnering a doubtful sneer skipping her lips.

"Like you'll get it." 

"You shouldn't be talking." you dart a wink.

Ellie flits a smug middle finger like the immature fiend she is, peeling the green jacket layering her pewter grey hoodie off. She tosses it astray to the ground, lurking towards a convenient couch and relaxing her butt against the nook of its armrest.

The lid refuses to subdue to your firm grip, feebly slipping and searing an exasperated groan gritting your teeth. Your instincts flash and wills an arm up to hurl the jar harshly against the stone ground, pulverizing the glass into countless shards.

"What, the fuck, is wrong with you?" Ellie halts at every syllable, gesturing with her palms like a shield to the jagged fragments.

"A lot."

Ellie gives a judgey once-over at your unbothered demeanor, hiking off the couch and crouching down to cautiously pinch a freed blunt from the debris, feathering the dust off and indulging a whiff held to her nostrils, "Smells good." she asserts, hoisting up and offering the joint to you.

"We' taking a detour?" you metaphorize, rotating the blunt like a wheel between your fingertips.

"We're trapped." Ellie educed a reminder wary of the billowing snowstorm that proved risky to tread earlier.

"Totally trapped." 

You both take harbor on the buffered sofa, bodies naturally vis-à-vis, a sheer four feet apart. Flicking the lighter cap open, plucking the tab and igniting the pocket flame whilst keeping your keen eyes on Ellies, who's piercing the windows to your soul with those juniper rings.

Ellie studies your face brazenly, locked on your profile as you kindle the blunt casually, lodging it between your lips to inhale a drag. Her optics tear an awkward barrier in the vacant space between you, now bidding a tension on the horizon. This makes you feel, seen, read like a poem, one that Ellie read often, and adored endlessly. Weed scorches the walls of your throat, eliciting a cough to spasm from your tight chest.

"Gah- fuck!" The spasmodic fit weaves through your distress, extended arm begging for Ellie to nab the source of your rasp from your jolting hand.

She snickers in belittlement at your expense, that dorky toothful smile crooking her rosy lips, "First time?"

"No."

"Liar." 

"You'll never know." 

Ellie's grin broadens prior to catering the blunt to her lips, pursing around the tip to drain a puff into her barren lungs. You take a gander at this sight, melting in the dimensional image of her woody auburn hair veiling a halo around her hung head, perking up to huff a thick smog enveloping you.

"What happened- last night, at the dance?" 

"You mean, with Dina?" she passes the blunt back, fingertips mingling a moment.

A hesitant drag soothes your lips, "Yeah, if you're uh- fine telling." Luckily, a cough doesn't plague you.

Ellie's cheeks lift a smirk, "It was a.. wild night. Dina.. kissed me and then Seth went bigot mode and said a not-so-nice word."

"Oh, shit." your brows rear and carve horizontal creases to your forehead, "You good?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just.. on edge. This helps though." she beams, nicking the smoldering blunt from you.

You couldn't divulge if she referred to you or the weed being her beacon of ease, but you dust off the thought. "So, you and Dina?" you inquire in a flirty mimic.

"N- it's.. just a kiss. She was drunk, I'm not gonna look into it- it doesn't mean anything." she stutters in a flustered haze.

Drawing some smoke in, then puffing it out, a smile invites itself on her pooling red midface and hijacks your attention.

"Why' you blushing then?"

"I'm not fuckin- fuck." Ellie's embarrassment stinges the sight of her smile as she flicks her head away, a cute sight to you that warrants your rising feelings at this moment.

"I think it's more than a kissss~" your tone curls playfully, nagging at Ellie's rattled state.

"You're on thin ice."

"A crimes' been committed, someone stole your heart!"

"I will come over there and fight you, no joke!" 

"Ellie's got a girl-" 

Out of the void, she has you pinned by the wrists under her clammy palm, sinking into the padded seat beneath you, auburn bang drooping like a pendulum over your face with the barely existing space between your faces. Senses plagued from the way gravity lashed out of you and hallucinogens deceived you, burrowing and growing like mold in the foggy vale of your skull.

"I don't have a girlfriend," Ellie utters through a sluggish jaw. "yet."

Your mind makes out an elusive meaning to her words, "You don't like Dina.."

Her lips calcify ajar, hot breath seeping into your buzzing skin, "It's someone else."

"Me?"

Her eyes waver, but strike up, "Yeah." she admits in a soft chuckle, wedging her thigh between your shut ones cunningly. You swear her pupils dilate like a supermoon.

A euphoric orb rings inside of your essence, thickening your veins and coating a cloak of boiling heat over your swelling hips wailing for a fucking when her voice brims your ears. This weed has really got your mind and panties in a pleasant twist. The confirmation of her liking- love? Maybe it's too soon, but it sure confirms your hidden suspicions.

"I think we needa get back to your place." Your words weigh heavy with intention.

"Fuck yeah we do." Ellie aligns with your suggestion, gnawing her tender lips with intention as well.

You both hustle off the tearing couch now tinted with a lustful sweat, not paying an ounce to sliding a coat on or gloves prior to, but not without pilfering some lone blunts scattered upon the floor, mounting your horse and galloping off.

☆

The warmth of Ellie's garage-shed-home drinks you up graciously, biting back the bone-chilling skull-screaming fever of the merciless ice age outdoors. The locked door affirms you won't be bothered, so your nerves settle and excitement brews deep in you. A new heat bonds with your body physically, Ellie embracing you cordially and her face dominates your vision.

"We're here." Her husky voice streams pleasantly, "What now?" 

A chill races your spine, replying in a stutter, "L-let's do this on your bed." You heave out with desire, digging your nails into her hoodie-clad back.

Ellie descends slightly to tuck her hands under your knees, buckling you around her hips snug and lodging her crotch against your heat, the rivet of her jeans poking the valley of your clothed cunt, earning a choked whimper bearing pleasure. The ensuing moment, you're cast onto the cottony bed with Ellie crawling over you, latching her plump lips on your bare neck and peppering your neck with prompt and sloppy nibbles.

"You want this? Cus' I really want this~" her words muffle in the crook of your jaw. "But d'you?" she intoned against your ardent skin, hips bucking and rolling the lump of her denim into your clit, causing you to bear down and grind back in chase of those lovely whits of ecstasy.

"I want it.. so bad.." the tension piling since the couch at last reprieves through every respite and roll of her hips.

Bodies chafing together at Ellie's intended friction, more importantly, knee now rutting against your aching clit stirs a kugelblitz in the cavern of your pelvis. Ellie peeks her face over yours, tucking the apex of her nose aside before rolling her lips on yours with passion, smacking sounds filling your headspace.

"I've liked you for so long, yknow?" Ellie affirms on your lips, "I wanted you for so long."

The pure carnal burn tickles your skin, bubbling a sinful image behind your eyes and mouth ardent to bite down on her bottom lip in hunger.

"Fuck, babe-" Ellie breaks the kiss briefly to utter, dazed vision, via her arousal, tunneling into yours with wide pupils.

You grin, prying your thumb between your teeth in a way that appeals to her. A hand traverses your body and toys with the hem of your shirt before lurking under and grasping your bra-clad breast fondly.

"Ahh~" your voice creaks when her thumb shimmies under the bra and plays with your fervent buds.

"Like that?" Ellie's tone dwells with honeyed lust, so sweet yet so intoxicating.

Lips polarize together and spark a continuous blossom of arousal, soaking the panties and coating a flim on the denim in a portal shape. Bound by a sluggish spell, your limp arm snakes over your torso, fingertips stroking Ellie's forearm and folding under the rim of your shirt to pull it off, exposing bare skin lush with blemishes and scars, trailing along with your jeans almost torn off in a rush.

"Damn." Ellie's airy chuckle riffs in your head, prefacing a long flirty whistle.

"Stop.." A blush bruises your midface, darting away from her intense stare that crowds you with a shy rotation of your head.

"Hey, look at me." Her fingers forcep your chin, reeling your head back to drown in her sights like a gentle whisper of adoration, "I wanna make you feel good.." her words cruise in a promising melody.

That very declaration screws your core in delightful ways, waxing a breaking sweat over your already humid exterior, interior when it refers to something else.

A notion murmurs akin to a soft hollow echo betwixt your temples, ushering your body to motion. Your hands spring to clasp her unaware wrists, tussling her over and straddling her hips.

"Woah, okay. This works." Her lips spread to an exalted smile, palms perched on your thighs and digits prodding the viscose skin wrapping the crests of your hips, reading every stretch mark with her finger pads which adorns a satisfied beam to her eyes.

A slew of exhilaration crashes against the walls of your body, grinding that clothed sensitive bud on the ridge of her zipper fly, biting back a riff of moans.

"Lemme hear you." Her hand scales your body, thumb inching past your lips and hooking over your teeth, beckoning it ajar.

"Fuhhhck.." You thrill her with a droning groan, stirring your eager tongue around her thumb and suctioning a kiss around her knuckle as it adjusts beyond your teeth.

"Suck, babygirl." 

Obeying her word, your lips bolt around the root of her thumb, siphoning it further inwards on the plateau of your tongue and casting dozy sex eyes upon her.

"Good girl," Ellie's finger skims out from your teeth, leaving a trail of saliva down your chin.

Your hips wallow over the hill of her bunching jeans, feeling a finger embed and press up onto your clit, damping the tip of her willowy digit thinly and hollowing out a clamor of moans.

"I gotcha this wet?" A brazen smirk glamours her lower face, rousing her own elation with a weighted chafe of her thighs, "Fuck, baby."

A figment of her voice remains like a chant in your smothered mind, calling your eyes to shut and live in every sting of pleasure stimulating you.

"Hmnnn.. mmm~" you purr, unfathomable bliss influencing your actions with every roll of your bud.

"Can I take these off?" her fingertips peruse your pantyline, to which you nod, pleating them down your hips gently once you've granted the okay signal.

Your panties eventually get hurled somewhere in her room, probably dangling from the edge of her TV screens' rim or now invited to the pile of her own laundry, nonetheless, she honed in on your now stripped slit, spreading your legs with her own shuffling first, displaying your bareness split across her open thighs.

"Watch my fingers."

So you do, focused on her gliding hand grazing your thigh in an unhurried manner, coaxing the crevice melding your thigh and crotch before they split and part your folds. She gives you a once-over before dipping into your drenched core, sucking her fingers up like it knew her touch. Her fingers inside prove warm and filling, sliding through your clenched walls with ease and in return rewards you with a drunken and drowsy gaze from her seductive greenhouse glow eyes.

“You take me in so well, shit-” Ellie’s humid mutter seeps into the swirling skin of your temple, close proximity with her heaving chest and the aroma of her natural scent coating the chamber of your skull deeply.

Her skins aflame with an amber luminance and dampening, reeking of carnal ache through her sullied hoodie, so you slur out, “I wann-feel your skin’n mine..” you clutch on the band of her hoodie, knuckles prodding her firm abdomen.

"Fingers not enough?" Ellie's hoarse yet silky voice coos, fingers sliding from your sopping wet cunt and slick glazing her svelte digits beautifully.

"I need all of you." You lean and overshadow her stationary body, hastily pulling her hoodie over her head and ruffling her hair a smidge.

"Mhm, baby?" Ellie reposes her benign palms to your hips, fingernails indenting the plush skin of your ass and inscribing a reddened row of scratches, a daring idea lighting inside her head, "y'wanna sit on my face, pretty girl?" her husky tone thickens.

An answer spurns from your agape lips, instead winding your body to heed her suggestion and climb upwards towards her face, observing the way she bites her pink lips at the sight of your eagerness before your stature projects over her and offers a pleasing sight to her sex-swollen mind.

Your avidness turns her on, admittedly, "Fuck, babe- gonna clean y'up good, okay?"

Her greedy digits resume through your ocean-soaked folds, splitting them apart and sinking three fingers in, fiending for the profound warmth your core provides. They dip in nicely, entrance molding to the shape of her fingers, absorbing every intent feeling her curving knuckles elicit in your throbbing walls and the celestial heavens wash over you.

"Fuck me- oh god.."

"That's what I'm doing.." Ellie sneaks in a playful joke, a crook slanted smile smoothing her lips for a mere moment before swiping it away with her tongue 'wetting the whistle'. Her hunger lives for your taste, colliding timely with your clit and suckling the bud into her pressed lips, simultaneously pumping her fingers into your leaking pussy and forcing a spiking yelp from your unlatched mouth.

"Mmm, Ellie.." you whine, gripping on her already disheveled locks instinctively.

She doesn't reply, too focused on rolling the swelling bud with her nimble tongue flicking endlessly between your delicate folds. An arm buckles over your thigh, elbow adjacent to your hip crest and pinning you further against her deft lapping motions. Ellie knew what she was doing.

The curved fingers coaxing your g-spot sparingly is just enough stimulation to decay your functioning senses, "Els- El..Ellie.." you wail breathless, her tongue prying at the hood of your clit lovingly whilst suctioning inwards sends shockwaves down your legs and into your feet.

Ellie parts from your core, smeared with your slick gleaming down her chin. She sucks in the wetness dripping from her lips, "Tastes so good, babe- mm, so fuckin' hot." she steeps her vision in the perspective of your body elongated before her, eyeing like a precious gem.

You melt in the quickened pace of her fingers inside you, knuckles deep and brimming with arousal overflowing at the base of her fingers. The intense thrusting of your sobbing pussy ejects a melodious line of moans, "Fuuuuck…" masking the tantalizing noises of your heat slapping with Ellie's palm.

"Cum, babygirl, come on.." Her voice husks gravelly, deepening in your skull while numb-fucking you into oblivion with hawk eyes staring up at you.

Lubricous strings lash against your outer folds and inner thigh at each smack her hand endures, her tongue slurping up those juices pooling over your neglected clit adding an extra layer of lust incarnate ramming your walls to be released. Giving in, your nerves flare up and pulse around your opening, limbs tightening and clenching, especially around Ellie's lithe fingers, a sweet pleasure engrossing your entire essence with a rush of fluid spiraling down her knuckles.

"Good fuckin'- that's m'girl.." She growls inwardly against your stuffed cunt, thrumming from her chest igniting that attractive muffled voice she crowns.

You feel her fingers slip out, leaving a hollow sense rooting in your core. A suctioning sound comes from below you, noticing that Ellie had licked the taste of you from her pussy-drowned fingers. 

"God, Ellie.. where'd you learn that?" you huff out, still descending your head from the sun above.

"Experience." She discloses, not a fragment of bluffing behind those proud eyes, relishing in the way she drove you to boundless ecstasy. She announces, "I'm not done yet though." 

You inquire a bumbled facade until you hack her meaning just as she leverages you off her face with dual strong grips setting you to the side. Hoisting onto her knees, spinning 'round to rustle through her nightstand, equipped with a slightly beaten but sealed box once she faces you again.

"Fuck is that?" You ask with knitted brows, curving curiosity in your smirk.

"So, there was this sex store up in-"

"Ellie, is that a dildo?" you poke the box.

"Not- exactly no."

"Bitch, I'm gonna be getting a different kind of infection from that."

"It's sealed! The building was barely ruined or inhabited," She defends, gentle hands rubbing your folded knees. "I just wanna fuck you."

You bob your head languidly, bidding an unwarranted smile on your lips, "You did, though." 

"But I can do so much more.." Her face levitates towards yours, "If you want?" the corners of her mouth jerk, upholding that memorable smile, dimples, nasal lines and all.

"Obviously.. I want it.." your voice rumbles navelly, eyes fix on her pupils, narrowed lids and a siren visage.

"Head on the pillow then, princess." Ellie chuckles, hands mindlessly peeling open the box.

Your fingers linger on your bra, still on somehow, so you brace it off willingly, plopping into the cloudy pillow enveloping your sticky skin with a cotton case creasing like a halo surrounding your head.

Ellie dumps the box's contents out, a thick hunter green mass smacking your thigh, "Shit, sorry." she clasps the strap-on by its buckle, leading it off your thigh simultaneously to giggling.

"How long ago did you find that box anyway?"

"Like.. a month or two?" her voice curves, unsure.

"So, you've been planning this for 2 months?"

"I've liked you longer than that."

"Oh?"

"I didn't plan it, I just.. had the stray thought." Ellie's cheeks churn in a red tint, "But I always think of you, fake dick or not."

"It's fine, I wanted you for a while too, so it's mutual." you sync a blush, anticipating the hazy lust to clamor within you again, "Thought of you too."

A mischievous grin carves on her lower face, light eyes squinting, "Like, in bed-"

"Get that damn thing on already."

"Yes, ma'am!" Ellie resumes her motions, tearing the rest of her under garments off in a pinch, bare alongside you. She fastens the strap on snug, jabbing into her untended clit that jams a groan out of her diaphragm.

"Neglected a bit?" you tease.

"Shut up." she hushes in a honeyed mumble, slouching slightly and grasping the mimicked shaft, spitting into her unoccupied palm and massaging the length graciously, "There we go.." she hums deeply.

Next thing, Ellie's hoisted your bottom between her thighs and legs hugging her hips loosely, seconds away from cramming the entire base into your over-sensitive pussy. She runs the tip through your delicate folds, sloshing the lewd slickness around which is music to your ears. Her eyes darted over to capture yours, withholding the appetite for one last affirm of consent; "Ready babe?"

"Mhm." You nod with zero hesitation, squirming your hips in timidness for what might be brought upon your foggy senses.

Ellie leans her body over you, sinking the tip between your slippery walls and gauging you in one quick swing of her hips. 

"Fuck!" Bliss clogs your throat but overdrive knots in your pelvis, implanting your bottom deeper in the sheets as a means of reprieving the inferno of overstim just slightly.

Ellie lends you a moment of adjustment, asking in a silky tone, "Can I start moving?" her face a breath away from yours, arms like pillars locking you between her hands.

"Please.." you secure your legs around her hips, nicking her in the butt with the heel of your foot playfully, "fuck me.."

Ellie's muscles tense in excitement, fierce craving looms in her face and her hands run down to grip your hips in a carnal fashion as she sinks you deeper on her base, uttering under a hush, "I'll fuck the shit out of you."

Following that, you embrace her close to you as her hips begin to crash against yours slowly, akin to a wave, hollowing and filling as she pumps her hips flawlessly. 

Tickling whimpers purring from your lips linger around the base of her ear, encouraging her to speed up slightly, chromatically raising the pitch of your pleasure, "Els…" you whine.

The strap jerks back at every thrust, chafing with her sensitive clit in provoking ways that draw out steamy breaths from her every moan. Friction beguiled her to pace faster, digging the straps base into her bud deeper, heaving a "Fuck, baby, fuck!" from that groggy voice as your hips knead together, her fingernails scraping your plush bottom instinctively.

You cast your head back towards the headboard, displaying a tidal of curses surfing from your throat at the top of cloud nine, "Yes! god.. harder.." 

"Say my name.." 

"Els-E-Ell.." you struggle as your voice gets smothered by every buck her hips produce.

"Come on.. you can do it." she motivates you in a sugary sweet coo.

"Ellie!" you wail, "Ellie.." 

"Good girl."

Ellie snaps and throws her torso up, clutching your tender hips and slamming them down on her eased cock, front slapping harshly against your bottom with aiding wetness splayed across your legs, her face contorting one of strain at the sheer intensity her speed proves to be.

"Mm, fuck!" You writhe in erotic contentment, stunned by the pure sensations sweeping your nerves and swirling around your pelvis, she's fucking you so good, your minds' all mush.

Ellie bites back her ceaseless rasps, riveted on the way your breasts bounce restlessly with every pound, bewitched by the sight and honestly almost drooling since her mouth was just open. She groans, "You gonna cum again? Hmm?" her thrusting falters and begins to get sloppy, out of breath.

"A-huh! Hmmnn.." your vision blurs and you fall into a dizzying spire, fucked out of your mind and on the verge of snapping.

"Yes.. yess.." Ellie mewls out, the dark amber strand sticking to her drenched forehead, emanating a beautiful glow across her body that weaved every groove her toned muscles bestowed, highlighting her drooping lids, agape mouth and taut forehead creasing when fucking felt just right.

All the feelings bubble up, the strap hitting your g-spot so perfectly, fogging your mind and tossing your coordination out the window. She descends her head towards your neck, sanguine bites lathered upon your shoulder and crook of your neck.

"Ellie- I'm gonna.."

"Me too." She huffed out, slamming your hips down in unison with her movement, a sheet of slick glazed between both of your crotches causing a wet slap to occur with each thrust, "Open up more, babe." her hands trail to your thighs, forcing them apart .

"It's s'fhukin g-mmm.." your voice slurs and cuts off.

"Shhhshh… shh.. I know.." her lips drag against your ear, prideful eyes drowning in your fucked out face, proud of her work. 

The swelling knot in your pelvis finally snaps, sending you quivering in her arms. Lewd moans clatter against the rooms walls, orgasm overwhelming your systems and gyrates your brain on a down spiral. Muggy sweat cloaks your entire body and hinders a steady breath from grazing your lungs.

Ellie's pelvis doesn't hesitate to halt, colliding with yours and rendering your already fried senses into a numbing and jittery state. She chases her own climax, hosting a melody of moans into your ears as she approaches release, "Fuck~ fuck fuhhckk.. babe." she squints harshly, driving her clit into the strap's base fiending for release.

"Els.." you whine, bracing the eruption of overstim.

"Just hold on, baby, hold'n.. uhh- fuck." Ellie's neck tightens and narrows her voice into a groan, gripping your wrist with a might to bear down her intense orgasm, sexy low growls thrumming from her chest. Her body falls flat on you in immediate exhaustion, burrowing the strap deep inside at a pause.

A laugh entrances you, "Felt good, hmm?"

"I should be asking you.. shit.." Ellie's chest rises sporadically against you as she syncs a giggle, sliding her hips away and taking the strap off without batting an eye so she could pepper you with smooches enraptured in a cuddle.

"It was good.. really fuckin' good."

Your reply seeps into her mind, inviting a sheepish smile to her face, "So.. does this mean, you'll be my… girlfriend?" a chuckle spurts out to clear any awkwardness.

That same pre-sex shy blush paints your face, replying, "Yeah, hell yeah."

"Okay.. you wanna, stay here tonight?" Ellie suggests with soft yet worn out eyes, fiddling with the hair cascading from your scalp.

"Of course, I don't think I can walk anywhere now." you quip, whisking your finger over her nose tip.

"Yeah.. bet I was better than any guy." She praises herself, beaten fingers tracing shapes on your chest.

"At least you get to choose your size."

"Pfft, you're funny." A brilliant laugh brushes past her lips, with a mellow whisper, "and so pretty." her thumb swipes your cheek.

You wrap your snug thighs enveloping her body, "You too, Williams." 

"Still calling me that? I thought I said-" 

You seal her lips with a prolonged kiss, dragging your lips against hers in a hypnotic passion, getting her to engage in something a bit longer than a lone kiss. She indulges without a second thought, slurping you up and tasting every inch of your-

A knock pounds your hearing and the door, adjourning the steamy makeout for a different time.

The voice behind the knocking calls out, "Yo, Ellie! You in there?" unmasking itself to be Jesse.

"Shit!" she yells, "Be right there!" and scurries off the bed, hunting for her under garments frantically.

You quickly bolt off the bed and swoop your undergarments, nearly toppling over as you shimmy your underwear on hurriedly but fortunate enough to catch your fall with some clamorous foot thumps to the wooden floor.

"What's goin' on in there? You fightin' a runner in there?" Jesse quips, his voice deadened by the walls.

"Ye- No!" Ellie stammers in a rush, managing to yank her jeans up and throw a bland white shirt over it, oblivious to the fact that it was inside-out, seams bulking and tag visible.

You were on the brink of raising a question to Ellie, but bite it back as she swings the door open and you cling to the closet adjacent to but behind the open door, not without a blow from your back against its rattling nature that had Ellie spooked for a split second.

"What're you doing here?" Ellie inquires, crossing her arms to appear unbothered.

"Heard you had quite a night after I left." His voice clarifies, streaming through the open door.

"It-" Her response defects, "She kissed me. Dina being Dina, it doesn't mean anything-"

"Wait, you kissed Dina?" Jesse interjects her reply, voice curving in curiosity.

"Oh, I thought-"

"We're broken up one week and you make a move on my girl?"

"No- She was the one- I don't even.." Ellie corners herself into a distraught state.

"I'm messing with you man, I don't care. I just swung by to tell you Maria switched up the assignments for tomorrow, you're up for more patrol."

"Seriously? I thought I'd get-"

"Hey why's your shirt inside out? Did you really get tangled up with a runner in there?" He jokingly peeks into the room, jolting back when Ellie's forearm bars him out randomly.

"None of your business, I get it now you can go." She sternly affirms, slowly creaking the door closed.

"What'chu hidin' in there?"

"Go!" Ellie strikes the door shut on his face, secretly flipping him off from the opposite site under the knob.

"Unholy fuck-"

"Next time try not to wake the dead with your footsteps!" She snaps back at you through an adorned smile, on edge from the unexpected, interrupting, visit.

"Like I said I can barely walk from your-"

Ellie strides up in a pacey fashion, cradling your head from the back in her palms, linking lips with yours soulfully. 

You press your lips, dawdling with hers and soaking in the taste of breath and flesh. It feels so good to expose your love, animated for her in this moment now, like a singing felicity in your heart. She parts, engulfing you in her olive irises before she croaks.

"Say we.. get back to bed? I wanna show you my drawings.." A sugary murmur trampling her usually husky voice.

"Yeah.." you wriggle your lips in a creeping smirk, leveraging your weight from one leg to the other.

"C'mere." Ellie creaks before tackling you onto the bed, burying you with infinite ticklish kisses along your face, a declaration of unfiltered affection in her lasting intentions.

"Ellie! That tickles.."

"Good."

hope you enjoyed!!! <3

MASTERLIST

[fancyfeathers]

Burn It All Down

(Yandere!Justice League & Yandere!Young Justice)

Based on Yandere!Justice League with their darling!children AU

Previous Chapter <- Chapter Nineteen, Little Bird -> Next Chapter

This chapter is told from the perspective of Oliver Queen's Son!Reader

Each chapter will be from the perspective of the reader, but as the different children since when I originally had this concept, they were all darling/reader characters.

“So what? We’re just supposed to sit around and let members of the Justice League play babysitter with us?” You snapped at Songbird as you paced across the room, Songbird’s and Supergirl’s shared bedroom to be exact. Right now, there was the Flash, Barry Allen, and apparently there were a few more on the way, and you all were just expected to sit around and wait to see what was to happen, which just pissed you off. “I’m an adult- hell, we’re all adults, Songbird, you’ve been on your own for years, same thing with Hex, from the last time I checked, that means we don’t require adult supervision.”

“I understand, I am just as mad as you are.”

“Then why aren’t we doing something, Songbird?!” You yelled at her, surely catching the attention of the Justice League member from downstairs. “We can’t be expected to just sit around forever, because that is not what I- no, not what none of us signed up for.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but I don’t want our secret identities exposed because if we make a scene in the middle of New York City in a penthouse that is registered under my name, then we’re all going down and the Justice League is falling with us.” You watched as Songbird stood up from her bed, which she was sitting on, and she reached out to grab your jacket, pulling you closer to force you to look her in the eyes. Her gaze was intimidating as if she was looking through your very soul, something she had in common with her own father. “Now you are welcome to leave, but I am going to figure out a plan to get us all out of this, and personally, I would like your help because you are a smart man, highly intelligent, witty, and cunning, but the choice is ultimately yours.”

“I… I need to think…” You push her hand off of you, stepping back away from your friend. You turned your back on her, walking towards the door leading out of her bedroom. “I’m going out tonight, I got a lead on a trafficking ring, you are welcome to come with if you want to, just something to help clear my mind.”

“I’ll take care of things here, I’ll get Firewall to be on call with you via the comm links.” You pushed open the bedroom door as Songbird spoke to you, and just as you stepped out and the door was about to close behind you, you heard her voice once again. “Shoot straight, mkay?”

You did not respond to her as you walked down the hallway, everyone else was deadly silent, you knew Hex was meditating in his room, even if you were told early that was what he was doing you could tell due to the scent of incense and candles, strawberry scented candles to be exact, something new he was trying no doubt. Supergirl, Blue Lantern, and Dreamcatcher were over in Dreamcatcher’s room, no doubt in a similar conversation that you were just in with Songbird. Firewall was still down in his office from what you assumed, so were most of the others. Then there was Blitz, she locked herself in her room, quite literally bolted in there and locked the door and she was not responding to anyone, not even Blue Lantern, her roommate and one of her closest friends. You walked over to the door of Blitz’s and Blue Lantern’s room, you were going to knock but perhaps it was best to leave her be, after all she would talk when she is ready. 

You pushed forward down the hall, walking over to your own bedroom further down the hall, and pushing open your bedroom door. You have not decored much yet, a bed, a desk, a dresser with your clothing and then there was a whole wall dedicated to your nightly work, arrows, bows, throwing knives, utility belts, among other things all hung up, and normally your suit would be hung up right in the middle of all of it, but it was gone. 

“Son of a bi-”

“I thought I taught you to watch your mouth.” You tensed up when you heard a familiar voice. After all, you were told there would be more Justice League members coming along shortly. You reached out a hand to close the door behind you, and to see the woman standing behind the door, the blonde hair, the suit, it was all too familiar to you. “You look nice, tired but still nice.”

“Mom…” You spoke to Black Canary, standing in front of you, she had hidden herself behind your bedroom door, but she was not holding your suit, giving you no idea where it was. “Where is my suit?”

“That’s the first thing you have to say to your mother after how long? Two and a half years, was it?” You wiped your head around when you heard another voice chime in, one that hid behind the desk in your room. You groaned at the sight of another familiar face, one dressed in green and just as familiar as Black Canary, Green Arrow. You guessed that he just got off his own patrol when he was notified of the situation, as he looked somewhat tired, but obviously not exhausted enough to stop himself from confronting you, as he was the one who was holding your suit in his hands. “Have to say, this doesn’t look handmade, I’m guessing you have a sponsor you went through to have this made, to have all of this made.”

“The design is mine, but ya, we have a few extra hands around here.” You snatched the suit from your father’s hands, though with a bit of resistance on his part. Though when you tried to step away from him, he firmly grabbed your shoulder, pushing you back, practically forcing you to sit down on the bed. “Hey! I have-”

“Nope, not happening, you’re not going anywhere, especially not when we need to talk, young man.” You were pushed to stay seated with Green Arrow’s hand firmly on your shoulder, his glare almost making you feel as if you were a child again, a kid who was caught sneaking out and was getting a lecture from his parents, a very pissed off and stern lecture. “You don’t call, you don’t check in, you just vanish off the face of the planet-”

“I was fine.”

“We thought you were dead!”

“But I wasn’t-”

“That is hardly the point.” Your mother cut in, glaring down at where you sat on your bed. “What if something happened to you and we couldn’t protect you? What if something happened like when she died-”

“You do not get to mention her!” You snapped at those words, your teeth grinding together from behind your lips, your blood boiling at the mention of your birth mother’s untimely demise. “You are the reason she is dead; that is no one’s fault but your own!”

“Watch yourself-”

“Or what? Are you going to continue to deny what you did to her? She trusted you, both of you! And when she needed both of you, what did you do? You betrayed her trust, she was locked in that house for seventeen years before she died! Seventeen!” You finally stood up, pushing away your dad, your eyes filled with fury as they locked with his, glaring into his very soul as you were now on the same level, not being made to sit down like a child. “If you let her go at the beginning, she may still be here.”

“But you would have never been born.”

“Well, right now, I wish that were the case.” You pushed past your father and mother, walking over the wall of supplies, grabbing a roll of bandages from the shelf. You normally used rolls of bandages to give your hands an extra level of protection beneath the gloves you used with your bow. You began to lift up your shirt, slipping it off over your head, you really did not care if your parents saw you without a shirt, after all they raised you, they have seen you naked more times than you could count, the only thing that made you feel slightly uncomfortable is the way their eyes lingered on the scars on your body as you began to wrap up your arms and hands with the bandage roll, ripping off the end with your teeth. “You two should go, after all, I’m sure the Justice League needs you to solve actual crises rather than babysitting a bunch of fully capable adults.”

“We’re going to address this when we go back home, when we all go back home.”

“Not happening.”

Somehow, you had a few minutes where no one was bothering you, allowing you to slip out of your window undetected and into the open night air of one of the busiest cities in the world, the only ones you knew of being aware of your absence was Songbird and Firewall, the ladder only because he was in your ear on the comm lines. You had perched yourself on a rooftop outside of some high-end club that you knew was just some front for a trafficking ring, transporting quite a large number of things, drugs, counterfeit money, organs, humans, the list goes on. You were watching silently as people went in and out of those doors, a bouncer watching everyone very carefully.

“Hey.” The moment you heard a voice behind you, you grabbed an arrow, notching it on your bow, and drawing it back all in less than a second, a particular skill you had learned. But at the other end of your arrow was a very scared Blitz, terrified at the fact that you had a drawn an arrow on her. “Hey! No, please don’t shoot me-”

“I’m not going to shoot you… Sorry.” You sighed as you lowered your bow, reaching back to put your arrow back in your quiver. You looked back up at her, and she was dressed in her suit as well, along with her headphones hanging around her neck. “I’m guessing you came to help?”

“Ya, Songbird told me when she came to check on me, and anything is better than being stuck in there right now.” You scooted over for her to come and sit down next to you as you both watched the building. She swung her legs back and forth like a little kid would, her eyes locked on the pavement dozens of feet below the two of you. “Blue also headed out, staying with her boyfriend for a while since she doesn’t think she can handle being around that many people who are…”

“On edge?”

“Ya… that.” 

“I get that feeling…” You sighed as you watched the building, your eyes narrowing as you saw one of the upper floor’s rooms lights turn off. You stood up, your hand knocking against Blitz’s shoulder to catch her attention as your other hand went up to press the button on your comm line earpiece to get word to Firewall. “Light went out upstairs, we’re going in.”

“Copy that, just be careful and- um… sorry I gotta go.”

“What- hey!” You scowled as you heard the comm line cut out. Something had to be seriously wrong for Firewall to just cut off his end of the comm lines since he was practically glued to his computer or some sort of electronic device. You shook your head with a sigh, glancing over to Blitz, who had a worried expression on her face at hearing your shared friend’s words. You forced a smile, giving her shoulder a small squeeze. “Hey, we’ll be alright, I’m sure it’s just Songbird needing to talk to him.”

“Ya, you’re probably right.” 

If only you knew how wrong you were…

Things were not alright…

Going in with a hot head was your first mistake…

And your second mistake was not watching your back.

You remember the pain of a bullet connecting with your back, falling to the floor, and hearing Blitz’s panicked scream as everything faded away

You do not know how long you were out when you woke up, but you just knew it all hurt like holy hell, your shoulders, your back, your head, everything. Your torso was propped up by a few pillows, making you rest at a forty-five-degree angle to help relieve pressure from your wound. You groaned as you sat up, or at least tried to, but a hand came onto your chest, pushing you to lie back down.

“No, no, don’t move, you’ll irritate your stitches.” Even in your highly disoriented state, you recognized that voice, one of the two people you had been arguing with earlier today, Black Canary, your mom. You felt her hand trail up from your chest, up to cup your cheek, running her thumb over your flesh. “Just rest, you’re safe now, little bird.”

“The… the mission…”

“No, don’t worry, we handled it…” You could not make out if it was your dad or your mom who said that to you, as your eyelids began to shut once again, and your vision grew even more blurry and dark. “You need to just rest, you’ve lost a lot of blood.”

“A-alright…”

Everyone else sat out in the main living room of the penthouse, watching as Green Arrow and Black Canary finally came out of your room, leaving you to rest, well it was almost everyone since Pisces was still missing, Hex had gone off god knows where, and Blue Lantern was off to stay with her boyfriend which only Blitz had met. Then speaking of Blitz, she was in complete shock herself, still, her body shaking slightly as she stared down at her blood-stained hands as she had to try to stop the bleeding before Black Canary and Green Arrow arrived at the scene, both of them having found out their location when they found Firewall running comm lines which is why he could continue listening in on the other end. There were a few others present, members of the Justice League, namely the Flash, Barry Allen, who currently had an arm wrapped around his shaking daughter’s shoulder and the other coming to cradle her head to rest on his shoulder, as well as Zatanna, who came when she found out that her younger brother had left and vanished from the enthouse, but that was hardly the main concern at the moment. A young man was sitting next to Supergirl, bearing a strong resemblance to the girl’s father, you were sure you would have put together the pieces of him being her uncle, Conner Kent, but you were not lucid enough to be up and moving. Then there was one other visiting face you would have recognized and recognized well, after all, when Cadmus shut down, you had gotten well acquainted with the other of Roy Harper’s clones, but you knew him as Jim Harper, and that entire situation was a whole headache other the last five years, but he came the moment he was told about your condition from a call from Oliver.

“Is he alright?” Jim was the first to ask, standing up from where he sat next to Songbird on the couch, he had been trying to talk to her like old times for a while to take their minds off of what was going on, but Songbird remained silent and stone-faced to any conversation attempts. “Can I see him?”

“He’s fine now, he’s asleep, so it’s best if we just leave him be right now,” Dinah responded to him, which brought about a sigh of relief from the ginger at hearing those words, but for other people, it just made them even more tense. “We’ll see how he does when he wakes up, get him moved somewhere more comfortable-”

“You mean take him back to Star City, don’t you?” Dinah was cut off by her former protégé, Songbird, shooting her a glare like knives from across the room, which caught everyone’s attention. “With all the blood he lost, surely he would need a blood transfusion, right?”

“Correct.”

“So where did it come from?”

“C’mon, let’s go get you washed off, Jellybean…” As the room got tense, Barry helped his daughter up, and Blitz, who was still in shock, just walked along with him as he led her upstairs to go to her room, which she would normally share with Blue if it were not for her absence. 

“Let’s just calm down, we can talk about this in private,” Oliver spoke to Songbird after the long moment of tense silence that followed her question. Songbird nodded before slowly standing up, Jim following after her as she walked over to Black Canary and Green Arrow, curious about the situation as well, but Songbird was not going to settle for answers in private since she could not stand another secret from them. In a moment of impulsive decisions, Songbird grabbed Black Canary’s arm, catching her off guard as the younger woman rolled up her former mentor’s sleeve rather roughly to reveal bandages covering the skin which was certainly not alright by Oliver since he manuvered around to grab Songbird by the shoulders and slam her up against the wall in a split second choice to restrain her. “You don’t do that ever, do I make myself clear?”

“The blood transfusion came from Dinah. Do you know how risky that is?” Songbird remained completely calm as she stared up at Oliver. “Not only did you two no doubt do it on the spot, but we both know the canary’s cry is genetic since her mom had it too, meaning it is in her blood. Which I am guessing you already knew, didn’t you?”

“...we did… but we both gave him blood…”

“But that hardly matters since you fully consented to giving him Dinah’s blood when you knew full well that there is a high chance that he wakes up with a power that he does not know how to control and that he probably doesn’t even want.” 

“Then we will teach him-”

“But you didn’t even think about what he wants.”

“We were saving his life.”

“What if he didn’t want to be saved? Then what?” There was dead silence following Songbird’s would, only a scoff slipping from her lips as Jim grabbed her arm to lead her out of the room, since it was clear that everyone needed their space right now, everyone feeling at their limits and as if everything was crumbling around them, and in a way it was.

[sharpth1ng]

not sure if this is a weird question but is it normal to actually want to be cut during sex? ngl debaser kind of awakened something in me LMAOO but im not sure if thats even a normal or safe thing to actually want irl or how thatd even come up in convo w my partner lol nd i just kinda feel like a weirdo 😭😭 would i be a terrible person for wanting that or wanting to do that to someone even with full consent? like i dont wna cause crazy trauma or something

Alright so when it comes to kink its worth asking what normal is. Is normal average? Because there's lots of kink activity thats not average or common, but that doesn't make it wrong to do with caution and consent.

Second consideration: is it safe? No. But a lot of kink play isn't safe, and neither is vanilla sex.

Choking as an example is a really risky kind of play. If you don't know how to position your hand you could easily damage the trachea, and you really dont want someone without oxygen for long because brain damage could occur. Someone should never be allowed to pass out from choking, thats an extreme risk.

There are safer ways of choking, like compressing the blood vessels in the side of the neck, but it's not risk free. The safest option is covering their mouth and nose but that's also not risk free.

Similarly, slapping in the face can cause injury to the neck if you dont brace their head, and it can bust an eardrum if your hand hits in the wrong place.

I think of most kink like bungee jumping or scuba diving. If you do it with knowledge and caution things shouldn't go wrong, but sometimes even with experience people doing everything right mistakes can happen. That's why you sign a consent waiver.

The approach I take is called RACK- Risk Aware Consensual Kink. It means you want to always be knowledgable about what risk could occur, you want to take all reasonable safety measures, and you want everyone involved to be freely consenting with full awareness of that risk.

In terms of knife or bloodplay specifically we're talking about something on the riskier side. Specifically you need to worry about blood-born illness and the possibility of infection from unclean equipment, you need to know exactly where and how deep to cut so you can avoid arteries or significant blood loss, and you need to be aware of the fact that just dropping or slipping with a knife could cause real injury.

Psychological Safety

Beyond that knives and being cut are things that cause real visceral reactions in people. Its really really hard to predict how you or someone else is going to react to that, and whenever you're doing kink of any kind you need to be ready for the possibility of a psychological response that means you have to stop and give or receive care.

That counts for both the cutter and the one being cut, sub and top drop are real things, so even if the scene itself goes well its really important to check in with each other and take care after it happens.

I personally have been hit with immense feelings of guilt after a scene that was fully consensual and went well. I had fun while i was doing it and so did my partner, but it's also a lot of adrenaline and when that wears off sometimes self-judgment creeps in.

As kinky people we're constantly fighting against societal perceptions of us as morally problematic, and sometimes that crashes in on you. Luckily I've had partners i could check in with, who would reassure me that they had fun and I'm not a monster.

The sub might also have feelings of guilt or self judgment after a scene, but also any cutting or blood loss carries the risk of shock, so it important to make sure you have something like juice on hand for them after, to make sure they can get their blood sugar up. It's also important to make sure cuts are properly cleaned and bandaged after.

In general you only want to do this with someone you trust deeply and feel comfortable speaking up to if something is wrong. Its extremely important to be able to communicate openly and honestly with anyone you're going to do kink with.

Physical Safety

In terms of physical safety, it's best to do this with someone you're fluid bonded to. Fluid bonding is mutual consent that your bodily fluids can be in contact with each other, often this means cum but it can mean blood too.

The reason this is important is because bodily fluids can carry STIs and other infections. You want to get fully tested (including hepatitis and HIV, which aren't always routinely tested for) before fluid bonding with someone. If you have multiple partners it's important to always get tested again between them. Always be aware of what you may be exposing yourself to, and know that even being as careful as possible doesn't completely eliminate risk.

If you or your partner is on blood thinners, has drank alcohol, or has something that causes excess bleeding or difficulty clotting its probably best to avoid this entirely.

Otherwise is also very important to be knowledgable and careful about where and how you're cutting. You want to be knowledgable and careful about your equipment too, because something like a little rust could cause tetanus.

Im going to say absolutely do not do knifeplay until you thoroughly read this resource: https://www.knifeplay.io/safety

Even if you dont buy the book, just scroll down. It's got extensive information about how to choose equipment, safety in terms of where you're cutting and how, as well as other risks to be aware of and what to do in an emergency.

I cant lie, it's a lot of information and you need to know it all. Knife-play is a fairly advanced kind of kink, and its one of those things that requires a lot of studying (in case you didnt know most kinksters are fucking nerds).

Its more information than I feel like I can reproduce here, and honestly that resource has it all written out really clearly.

General advice

This is already in that resource but I'm going to talk about it anyway: if you're going to do this, start slow. You don't know how you or your partner will react, so start with something that you cant really cut with. If you cover someone's eyes, a cold butterknife can feel like its cutting without actually doing so. Its never safe to put a real knife to someone's throat so this is how I get around that. Knife play is a kind of fear play so creating an illusion works well. Ill show my partner a real knife, cover their eyes, and switch it out for something safer.

Even if you aren't doing that kind of thing though, start out with something relatively hard to cut with. You can find wooden or acrylic knives like these:

https://www.chaotickink.com/knives

Which can break the skin with enough pressure but aren't as dangerous as something sharp and metal. You'll likely want to avoid actually cutting at first, try just running the knife over skin or scratching with it to get a sense of how it feels and how you react.

You also want to pick something small, light, and easy to control. The buck knife they use in debaser is what I would call an extremely risky option. It's heavy, large, and the curve of the blade makes it hard to control if you don't really know what you're doing.

If you get to the point of actually cutting its worth also going very slow and light, different peoples skin vary in thickness, some people slice more easily than others, different people bleed at different rates too, and you can always cut more but you can never cut less. It can also help to restrain the person being cut, minimizing any sudden movements that could knock a knife out of position.

Talking to you partner

So yeah, this part is important. Its always scary bringing up a new kink with a partner, and I think that goes double for stuff like this that might freak people out. Im lucky in having had some really kinky partners who were very into the idea, so it felt relatively safe to talk about.

It helps if you can explain why you want it, what you would get out of it. For me it's partly the fucked-upness and the fear reaction, as well as some knife and blood fetishism. But it's also the immense trust I'm being given when my partner lets me do this. Im not joking when I say it feels incredibly romantic to me, and I genuinely enjoy patching them up after.

Beyond that though, I think its important to recognize that consent is an ongoing practice. You never want to do something like this if both parties aren't fully in for it, and you always want to make sure you're doing it on a day you both feel healthy and ready for it. It's fine to put things off even if you made a plan, and you should always feel safe backing out even after giving consent.

To summarize:

You aren't fucked up for wanting this, and it doesn't need to be normal to be ok to want it. Trauma can happen when you're doing this, but trauma can happen during vanilla sex too. Whats important is being knowledgable, having clear and honest communication and mutual care. So yeah, go forth, be as safe as you can, but don't forget to have fun 🖤

[copingwithobsessions]

Billy is autistic ♾

Just me rambling about an headcanon I take wayyyy too seriously :)

Hyperfixation : horror movies (obviously)

He just keeps talking about it. All the time.

Like

Also him using his hands while talking in this scene

(There's also something to be said about him mentioning the queer actors and not the 'straight' characters but that will be for another post-)

Also in the phone call where we're sure it's him :

(If he was the one calling Casey then there's even more-)

Also him just constantly talking with movie-related things : "It was edited for TV- all the good stuff was cut out", "nice solid R rating, on our way to a NC-17", "lately we're just sort of edited for television", "Maybe your movie-freaked mind lost it's reality button","It's all a movie, it's all...one great big movie.Only you can't pick your genre","I think she wants a motive","I don't really believe in motive, Sid.", "See it's a lot scarier when there's no motive Sid", "Is that motive enough for you ?", "How's that for a motive ?", "Just pretend it's all a scary movie Sid...How do you think it's gonna end ?", "Perfect ending.", "Now Sid, don't you blame the movies. Movies don't create psychos, movies make psychos more creative !" and basing his killing spree on horror movie tropes : phone calls, masked killer, virgins being the final girls (literally having sex with Sidney to fulfill the trope), 'no motive' etc...

2. Abnormal posture

3. Staring (last 2 photos, both scenes in Sidney's room, police station scene...basically when there's Sid) or excessive blinking (doorway scene, kitchen scene...(basically when there's Stu)

4. Plans and changements

Billy (and Stu) planned their entire killing spree (from the dates it would be on : surrounding the one year anniversary of Maureen's death, to the person they would frame and his supposed motive as well as Casey and Steve's murders with the phone call, the attack at Sidney's house, Billy's incarceration, Stu's phone call following it, Billy's fake death, kidnapping Neil before his flight and using his phone, hiding his car, using a voice changer, stabbing each other to seem like victims, the party etc...)

When Billy's (and Stu's) plans get changed (Dewey, Gale and Kenny being present, Sid escaping the kitchen with her dad and Stu losing too much blood), Billy panics and goes into what could be defined as a meldown : throwing out insults, walking in circles, never going to check on the first floor, destroying Stu's living room and just panicking all around-

(When he fails getting Sidney to trust him and makes her escape to the toilets, he punches himself in frustation)

5. Insociability

Basically doesn't talk in the fountain scene

Awkward and Unsettling while talking, even to his friends

Doesn't pay attention to girls being interested in him

Doesn't seem at ease with the number of people leaving the party

(Even fidgeting though that may be just be him checking that the people are leaving for real)

6. Overdramatic

7. Favorite person/people

Okay this one's not that common in autistics but for Billy, he definitely has a special person, two in fact :

He literally started killing because his mom "moved out and abandoned" him.

For Stu, I will be vague cause I'll talk about it in detail in the other post 👀but basically he's not really himself unless Stu's there and planned a killing spree where only they would survive (+ trusted him to stab him).

Bonus : If Billy is the one who called Casey

"I only eat popcorn at the movies" Well I'm getting ready to watch a video "Really what ?" Oh, just some scary movie "You like scary movies ?" Huhuh "What's your favorite scary movie ?" Hum- I don't know... "You have to have a favorite, what comes to mind ?" Hum...Halloween ! You know the one with the guy in the white mask who walks around and stalks babysitters. "Yeah." What's yours ? "Guess." Hum- Nightmare on Elm Street ! "Isn't that the one where the guy had knives for fingers ?" Yeah, Freddy Krueger. "Freddy, that's right. I liked that movie.It was scary." Well the first one was but the rest sucked."

"It's an easy category : movie trivia"

"Come on, it's your favorite scary movie, remember ? He had a white mask, he stalked the babysitters"

"Then you should know Jason's mother, Mrs Vorhees, was the original killer ! Jason didn't show up until the sequel."

And that's it ! A complete analysis of what could be considered autistic traits from Billy that got way too long-

[verysanebsdfan]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 𝟻: ᴠɪʟʟᴀɢᴇ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀᴋᴇ

The Perfect Equation: Village by the lake

Ishigami Senku x fem!reader

masterlist tpe masterlist

<previous ・・・・・ next>

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

"My name is Kohaku. And I do believe I've fallen for you quite hard."

She says, making Senku drop the tree he was slowly trying to place down. I am also startled. "Did she really just say that? We just met. I mean, she is cute but..." I think, not daring to make a sound, at least not before one of them.

Senku looks annoyed, as always, when anyone mentions romance involving him. "Sheesh. Annoying crap like that makes me wanna curl up and die." Senku groaned, not trying to hide his annoyance and disgust. "I mean, really? You've got a crush on me now? In an emergency like this...?"

"I'm not saying that at all!" She said in her defense, and I relax, leaning closer to Senku.

"Even if she was, so many guys would take that chance; she kinda looks like Lillian Weinberg, you know... The American singer." I chuckle and then look back at her. "Sorry to say that, but it really sounded like it, no offense, now calm down... Both of you." I smile.

"I'm just saying I'll cooperate with you because I like you as people!" Senku finally calms down, saying he appreciates it, and then he says something about how love is the most irrational emotion ever. Wait till he finds out about jealousy.

We all got ready to sleep since the sun was already setting. I prepare the fireplace and light it.

"Hey, (Name)? Do you want this sleeping bag or can I take it? I only have one, sorry." He tells me apologetically, to which I shake my head. I've been sleeping without one for some time now, so I'm okay. He then proceeds to huddle into the sleeping bag and turn around.

Both Kohaku and I lay, well, more like sit, in almost identical positions. Sitting, our back supported by a tree, and our hands on our stomach or chest, getting supported by a leg. The only difference is that she has her knives in her hands.

"So you new humans sleep with blades in hand?" Senku asks, watching her from his comfy sleeping bag.

"It's pretty obvious I don't have 'love' on the brain, right? Hah! I may be curious about your ways, but that doesn't mean I trust you. This is just a habit from having had to protect myself my entire life. Don't let it get to you." She said, looking alert just like before, her teal eyes reflecting the fire quite nicely. "I still don't get why you thought I had a crush on you, I'd never take someone's man. That's like common courtesy, is it not?" She says, and I nod along until I realize what she said. And I am not the only one who realized it.

"She is not my woman!!" Senku yells, looking agitated, a light blush coating his cheeks. "Anyway, you can drop the weapons, I ain't so brave to suddenly attack a lioness like you. So don't waste another 0,1 seconds and get to sleep already.

"A lioness?!" Kohaku angrily exclaims. "That's mean! You may live like a gentleman, but your super-filthy mouth tells a different story. My blade may find that sharp tongue of yours before either of us knows it. (Name) How do you put up with him?" To which I just chuckle, "I'd also like to know that."

・・・・・

"That long-haired man, you're fighting him?" Kohaku asks us, just as she picks up her huge jar. "I would be happy to help, I'm not one to retreat in disgrace, you know."

"Yep. That's why I'm building a Kingdom of Science." Senku says, looking determined. It suits him.

"Science? You mean your sorcery?" Kohaku questions but is not met with an answer.

"But first, I need manpower!" Senku states, and I smile, I am so glad he got revived. One thing is that I missed him; the second is that we would have no chance without him.

"Then you should come with me." Kohaku offers. "I'll be returning home after fetching some hot spring water."

"Hot spring water?" I tilt my head in confusion. What could she need it for? For medical or relaxation purposes? Rituals? I don't know. I'm sure she'll tell us, though.

Kohaku approaches the spring and fills the whole Jar with steaming water. "This will make a fine hot bath once I carry it back. Perfect for rejuvenation." She clears out my confusion, mostly.

"But you're ten billion percent healthy. Why would a vigorous lioness like you need rejuvenation?" Senku asks, looking dumbfounded.

Hearing that, Kohaku bursts into anger, "I am no lioness!" she defends her pride. "And it's for my older sister!" She sighs and picks up the jar. "I swear, she's such a nuisance. That sister of mine only slows me down. She's been sick lately; if I could take her place and give her this healthy body of mine, I would." She calmly says, looking sad, understandably so.

"But then you would be the one sick Kohaku. That would be just as bad, no?" I question, to which she does not respond.

We all start walking down the hill. I take in the beautiful scenery. Green was everywhere in sight. No signs of a modern civilization. It was so peaceful, and the air was so fresh. I could get used to this. I might miss modern life as much as possible, yet nature makes it so much better. The beautiful sight made me relax a little. I was no longer alone. I had Senku with me, and now also Kohaku, whom I already adore.

"That pot only holds about 50 liters. Not exactly enough for a full-blown bath." Senku states. He's right. It's far from enough, so why? "How many times have you gone back and forth, carrying that big, heavy thing, day after day?" Senku asks softly. He looks impressed and melancholic. No, that's not it, but it is an emotion I don't seem to be able to classify.

"Hah! It serves as my daily training. The water is just heavy enough for that. It helps strengthen my body, so I suppose I have to thank my troublesome sister for that." Kohaku says positively, smirking back at us, yet then she almost trips and almost spills the water. Senku caught the jar just in time.

"You're still not totally healed from earlier, huh?" He smirks at her, holding the jar up. Did he get stronger? He said the jar is about 50 liters, which would be 50 kilograms, counting only water; the jar also weighs something. If both of them are holding it, I can only assume how much he is currently holding, but I'd guess about 25 kilograms. "That's a lot!" I nod my head, he has definitely gotten stronger. "We'll be in a real pinch if you overdo it and kick the bucket. Lemme lend you a hand." Senku offered, still showing off that stupid smirk of his.

Kohaku, of course, handed him the jar, and that was too much for him, and he ended up falling face first and also spilling the jar. "Talk about overdoing it." Annoyed, Kohaku said, picking up the jar and going to refill it.

"Am I the only one in this stone world who's not a gorilla? Kohaku, Tsukasa, Taiju..." Senku grumbles as he gets up from the ground.

"Hey!! I'm not a gorilla, too, idiot. Right now, I'm probably weaker than you." I tell him while chuckling. I approach him and dust off a little dirt from his shoulders. "Here."

・・・・・

While Kohaku was out, Senku decided to make a three-wheeled vehicle to transport us to Kohaku's village faster.

"Amazing, building such a useful contraption so quickly!" Kohaku squeals excitedly as she sits on the jar at the front of the vehicle.

"So quickly? It's only because I had the perfect set of materials from the pulleys yesterday. Progress gives rise to further progress. And practical application of that progress is at the core of science." Senku yells from behind me.

"Senku, I don't wanna underestimate you, but... does this have breaks?" I ask, sweating nervously.

"No!" Senku responds. Of course, it doesn't; what did I even expect? And, of course. We crashed. I felt the harsh ground scraping my kneecaps, palms, and elbows. Groaning, I try to get up, until I realize Something is holding my lower body down. Senku was laying right on my thighs. This made me flustered. The intimate nature of this position is getting into my brain. "He looks cute, lying there."

He grunts and props himself up on his elbows. "You okay?" He asked, and I quickly stood up, ignoring the small streak of blood from my wounds tickling down my leg. "Yeah." To which he just shakes his head and says: "I'll patch it up for you later."

We dust off the stray dust particles on our clothes and look ahead of us. "Welcome to my village!" Says Kohaku proudly.

"How many people live here?" Asked Senku. "I forget how many children and elders there are, but them said,e we have exactly forty!"

We are staring ahead at the primitive settlement on two islands by the shore of a lake. If there are forty people plus some children and elderly, it means there must have been a lot of generations or a lot of revived people. But those people do not seem too knowledgable about, well, anything. At least from what I can see. They do seem like good fishermen, though.

We get closer to the bridge that connects the first village island and the shore, but then, out of nowhere, two men get ready to attack us. Thankfully, Kohaku deflects their attacks. "No violence, Kinro, Ginro! I'm alive thanks to those two!" Kohaku shouts at the men.

"Sorry 'bout that, Kohaku, but no can do." A blonde man with a side part, chin-length hair, and green eyes says. "No outsiders allowed. You know that. The chief'll be mad.

"There's nothing to argue about. Rules are rules." Says the other man. His haircut looks like it's straight out of Bungo Stray Dogs. I swear the random long piece in the middle of your forehead is not that hard to cut off. He does, however, have the same eye color as the man beside him, a pleasant shade of green.

"No humans live beyond our borders. Any outsiders have to be criminals we kicked out in the past. They cannot stay here. Whether they're your saviours or not, the details don't matter." The man with the strange haircut says.

"You leave me no choice," Kohaku says, "Right here. Right now. Fight me!" She threatened them, making a really scary face, but I put a hand on her shoulder.

"Kohaku, let me at least..." I sigh and turn to the young men. "Uhm, hi, uhm, how about we take this logically and without fighting. Both me and my companion seem around your age, if not younger. Which means you would know if we were criminals. You might say that our parents were criminals. Well, I do not have a good argument for this one, but look, if they were, they would more likely have more kids and attack you, obviously." I try to reason with them. "Either way, I don't need you to trust us right now, but I would appreciate it if you didn't fight, with Kohaku especially."

Then, some bubbles fly from behind me. I see Senku using our soap and a bit of the hot spring water to make them, blowing them through his finger. I smile; this brings me back to my childhood. But I can't say the same for the men. Kinro and Ginro, was it? They look absolutely baffled and terrified.

The brown haired one tries to pop them frantically, while the blondie looks at the 'flying jewels' that are floating around him.

"Whut?!" Senku exclaims while sticking his pinky into his ear. "They're that primitive, huh?" and then he makes a really nasty face. "Heh, heh, heh... perfect. They'll all be mine. I'll have the power of science and forty people to boot once I recruit this bunch to my cause," he exclaims while holding his hand up. This really is some face a main villain would make when talking about world domination or something. "Get excited!!"

[nthspecialll]

Watching the end near

We often talk about what it must have been like for the active gang members in chapter six when a split is created between them, but I rarely see anyone talk about what it must have been like for those left in camp, the ones who patch the clothing, make the food and tending to the day to day because there wasn't a single one of them that were on Dutch's side.

I think that they all understood when they first began to leave, I don't think they were shamed for it either, at least not by those left in camp, but I think they were ashamed either way.

Pearson who had been crying in camp for days about not wishing to die putting the knives in their place for one last time, an extra large pot of food over the fire just so that they remaining members, half of which were calling him a coward, wouldn't starve when he put an old picture of who they used to be in his suitcase and walked out.

Uncle who for some reason only known by him and Dutch had stayed with the gang for years, "unless" yet treasured, packing up from the one family that had stayed, the one group of people who dealt with him and gave him shelter.

Reverend desperately tried to get the girls to leave with him, pleading and begging them that Dutch was not worth dying for, that they could have a life without him. It must have been a sight, Reverend who used to say he owed Dutch his life for taking him in and not being angry at him for relapsing, suddenly saying that the man standing before him today is not worth the risk.

Mary-Beth and Karen who left together, packing their bags as their friend, the third of the unbreakable trio they had been for years, watched them silently, understanding their decision to leave yet not ready to give up yet.

Mary-Beth supporting Karen, half drunk and more gone than present when they board the train silently, common experiences no one else could understand bonding them together yet knowing that if they didn't move on they wouldn't see the sun of the next day.

I think about the glance they must have shared when it finally came to departure, the "this is it" moment. I wonder if they thought about keeping together or if they simply knew that they wouldn't be able to move on if they did.

I always think about what it must have been like for Tilly, Grimshaw, Abigail or Jack, the remaining four, unable to let go, standing in the camp watching as the others took the leap and left. Watching their friends' backs disappear up the trail for the final time, knowing it was the end of everything.

[togglesbloggle]

There's a discussion pattern that floats by every now and then. Stop me if you've heard this before:

LIBERTINA: These regulations about proper utensil manufacture are onerous, odious, and condescending. People already know that they are taking a risk by buying double-bladed knives that have a serrated handle so that there's "more knife per knife". You don't need to pass a law dictating the minimum convexity of a butter knife handles.

DESPATRICK: You say that, but there were six thousand cases last year alone of people hospitalized with hand injuries for improperly grabbing a novelty omnidirectional fork. You say that people 'know' they shouldn't do this, but there's obviously a problem here, and it's a public health risk that needs common-sense regulation to fix.

LIBERTINA: But that risk was deliberately chosen by these people! If they didn't want to participate in the Forb Challenge, where TikTok teens eat with fork orbs, then they could just not do that. You're not protecting people from anything other than their own preferences.

DESPATRICK: That's a specious argument. First, it presumes that nobody has a compromised ability to provide informed consent- that they're mentally fit, adult, that they understand the risks, and so on. You say 'people already know' but I think what you mean is 'most people already know'.

LIBERTINA: Everybody who's mentally fit to engage in cash transactions, anyway. What I mean is "if you understand that currency can be exchanged for goods and services you can also be presumed to understand that grabbing the pointy end of a sword is bad." DESPATRICK: Okay, fine, but what about the people that aren't buying these things, but are still exposed to them? How many of these customers are also parents of small children?

LIBERTINA: Sooner or later you always use this excuse! Yes, won't somebody think of the children. That somebody ought to be the parents, we've already had this conversation a million times, and every time we just come back to the fact that we entrust parents with a huge amount of responsibility for childcare and there's no viable alternative, political or practical. And anyway, you're obviously using this as a post-hoc excuse to regulate my experience, whether I have kids or not.

... and so on, and so on. Most recently, in this corner of the internet, it's the "building windows in bedrooms" regulations.

Anyway, my basic nature is to be sympathetic to Libertina here; at the bare minimum, she should probably always have the benefit of the doubt. But I there's a corner of this conversation I don't see explored as often, and I want to explore that corner out loud a bit to find out how I feel about it.

Basically, I think that describing people as having a preference for "more knife per knife," or whatever, is formally true but hiding a lot of complexity about what is actually preferred, and that Despatrick's regulations intersect with that penumbra of values in complicated ways. Libertina frames this as a case of purely restricting people's preferences (or in the case of cost-saving measures, of letting them make their own tradeoffs between risk and expense), but I get the feeling that she's making a mistake by limiting her analysis to preferences of consumer goods.

Just to break frame a moment, consider the case of laws banning businesses from racial discrimination against their own customers: for example, a ban on a "no blacks allowed" sign in a department store. The most confusing thing about these laws, from a certain perspective, is that we needed them at all! Why would a business decline custom on the basis of irrelevant demographic information like race?

To which the answer, of course, is that local profit-seeking, and indeed the pursuit of individual preferences with full generality, is embedded within a dense fabric of social expectations and semantically rich rituals. For every prisoner's dilemma, there's a mafia ready and willing to break your kneecaps if you're a snitch.

As long as you could discriminate against black customers, you faced tremendous pressure to do so, because so many white customers wouldn't shop at 'that kind of store. The short-term pursuit of your preferences in one case (selling clothes to a black family) would conflict with those preferences in the long term (selling lots of clothes to lots of families). But once segregation was banned by law, black shoppers were no longer a signal of being 'that type of person', and there were no white-only alternatives, so the downsides vanished and only the upsides remained.

This is at its most consequential (and useful) in the case of positional goods; red-queen races where people don't care about the commodities intrinsically, but are locked in to arbitrarily growing expenses in pursuit of what they do want, which is to have 'more' or 'better' commodities than others in their community. It's particularly common where people are trying to sort themselves by social class or wealth, but it's all over the place in general.

And the thing that both Libertina and Despatrick miss, I think, is that this works in reverse as well.

Think about it: if it suddenly becomes legal to build windowless bedrooms, then basic economic forces tell us that such bedrooms will likely be built (and a new style of architecture will spring up to accommodate it). We can guess, further, that windowless rooms will be cheaper on the margins than windowed rooms, that people considering new homes will be able to decide whether or not they'd rather have the money or the window.

Let's even grant the (~dubious, but not unreasonable) premise that this wouldn't cause the cost of windowed rooms to go up, that this would purely represent an opportunity to save a little cash by opting out of this feature.

But something else happens, too: it's now possible for somebody to resent you for having a window in your bedroom, or to admire you for it. As of now, this is not an option! Everybody with a bedroom has a window. But once this is deregulated, there are people-with-windows types of people, and people-without-windows types of people. And the people-without-windows type of person is, in a word, poor.

There will be studies released, showing the strong correlation between windowless bedrooms and substance abuse, criminality, unemployment, you name it. There will be weird political battles about zoning for windowless structures because they attract the Wrong Sort. Millennials will be accused of valuing their fancy windowed bedrooms over saving for a house, and students with access to natural light will be thought of as frivolous and unserious. There will be dating advice, and it will be the most rancid dating advice you could imagine.

By making the 'worst possible apartment' worse for most people, we have made minimal constructions cheaper and expanded access to the housing market for the very poor. But we've also added a moral dimension to a quality-of-life feature where there was no such moral dimension before, and initiated contests over that space in which community members will use all the strategies at their disposal to sort themselves by social status.

In other words, repealing laws that mandate access to natural light in every bedroom may well lower (or raise) the quality of life of many people, even if they didn't move or see a change in rent.

As long as our preferences extend beyond commodities, to social values about our community and our place within that community, then regulations on commodities should probably be considered in light of their consequences on that axis as well, and not just in light of their immediate costs in production efficiency. Which status competitions do they open, or close, and what are the likely consequences of those status competitions? If you weigh those contests against the efficiency gains of deregulation, is it still a net good for <all, most, some> people?

[plusvanity]

Do you have any thoughts or analysis on necrobutcher?

I'm not fond of Jørn nor Jan (Jan is worse in my opinion), but I find it interesting how his friendship with Øystein gradually deteriorated.

I find it easier to part Mayhem in two sides: the ones who cared and were 'in it for real' (Øystein and Pelle) and the ones who were there just to 'pass the time', so to speak.

Musically speaking, he doesn't stand out with anything, he's rather a typical example of a 'basic bassist' and his lyrics were at best mediocre at best.

Now, returning to his personality, he seems rather lazy and disinterested to contribute with anything for the band, I mean, he wrote the lyrics in the beginning but other than that I feel like the hard work of maintaining the band fell on Øystein. This is not too surprising because, after all, Øystein was the leader, and his word was more important than Jørn's at that time. Also Jørn's trivial interests in partying and doing drugs/ smoking weed with Jan inevitably brought them closer to one another.

I don't blame Øystein for losing patience with him because it seems like he drastically changed his priorities after his girlfriend got pregnant (this is understandable though), but basically, it looks like he abandoned the band completely. I'm not here to judge his life's decisions and I won't do it, but Øystein seemed reasonable enough to understand Jørn's struggle, so what I believe that drove them apart was Jørn's lack of motivation to keep playing and coming to rehearsals when the band was in a financial impasse.

He states that he tried to help Pelle with his self-harm behaviour by giving him duller knives that wouldn't do much damage. He also helped Pelle get unemployment benefits from the Norwegian state if I remember things clearly. If he did so, this is the only good thing that I can tell about Jørn (even if by a 'good thing' I refer to something that it's common sense and expected to do for a friend in need, not such an act of charity that he kinda seems to portray, but I digress).

I find it a bit far-fetched that he states how 'he was like Pelle's best friend' or 'Pelle was like a little brother' to him because it is clear that they weren't that close. Pelle talked far more often about Øystein in his letters than he did about Jørn (if he even talked about him at all). But this statement is very expected for someone who lived after half of the band died tragically and is able to speak his own truth, a truth that cannot be verified in any way, shape or form.

What pisses me off is his statement about 'wanting to kill Øystein too' and 'being on his way to do it, but damn, Vikernes did it first'. This is obviously a cheap try to gain attention, shift the story focus on him, put him in a somehow heroic light, and milk the band's history for money even more. I don't believe he was in any way after Øystein. Øystein was probably a long-forgotten name in his mind at that time, but if a great opportunity to remain relevant in the scene occurs, Jørn will be more than ready to come up with such shock-value statements.

I don't like how he says that 'Dead (refferd to his stage name for the shock-value again) liked to fuck with people'. It's just another example of Jørn trying to milk Pelle's story.

'A couple of times I felt like cutting myself too', he says in an interview very firmly, after that he pauses, sighs and tries to come up with a narrative that supports his declaration. It's very obvious that he is not true. Naturally, I wouldn't comment on this particular subject, but the fact that he stated so many shocking facts about him and the band (now that the band is famous, of course) makes me think that most of what he says is said to sell. (on his way to kill Øystein, on his way to harm himself, etc, etc. )

It's hard for me to explain body language especially because my English is bad, but the way he talks and presents himself, he seems chronically tired and disinterested until the opportunity for a few minutes of fame occurs.

The way he talks about 'Dead' being a character who wanted to freak people out is not how one would refers to their friend, but to an soulless icon or a stranger.

This is embarrassingly long now, but this is my take on Jørn. Not the worst name in the story, not the best either.

[zane009]

a little bit of blue

summary: you found some bleach and box dye on your last run so maybe it’s time you ask Daryl to help you dye your hair…maybe you’ll even get him to do it as well…just a LOT of fluff and fun times

Daryl x reader

word count: around 1500

a/n: literally based on my dream lmao it’s silly 🥲…not proof read

" shit i dun' know 'f  I'm doin' this right"

Daryl grunted as he was currently trying to figure out how to bleach your hair correctly. He was given a few instructions but to be honest he had no idea what he was doing.

You and Daryl found some box dye and bleach on your last run and while Daryl thought it was completely unnecessary and a waste of space you quite literally just showed the items inside without a second thought. It's not common to do something like this these days so the thought of dying your hair felt a bit comforting. A reminder of the old world. And with Daryl helping it would make this experience that much better.

You were currently back in Alexandria sat in a chair in Daryls bathroom, trying to calm the big man behind you. It took a hell lot of convincing to even get him to agree to this. You were surprised he didn’t give up yet considering the amount of his complaints in the last 30 minutes.

"You're doing just fine Daryl just apply it like i showed you" you said as you bit back a laugh.

He was stressing himself out for no reason and it was appealing to watch. You looked in the mirror and saw him behind you trying to apply the bleach precisely with the little brush.

He was staring with deep concentration with his brows furrowed softly and the tip of his tongue peeking out just a bit. It was a habit he did when he was really focused. Just like he did when he was sharpening his knives or carving out his new arrows. Or bolts if you would ask him. You didn’t really get the difference between those two anyways.

So you couldn't hold back the laugh that escaped you this time. His eyes snapped up immediately catching yours in the mirror. " dun' laugh at me woman 'm tryin' ma best here" he puffed out as he went back to it.

"Hell i told ya ya should've asked Rosita ta help ya"  the frustration in his voice at this point was absolutely adorable. He took the last dip in the bowl filled with bleach and layered it on your hair for the last time.

You finally let in a big stretch as you hummed " I genuinely don't know why you're complaining i mean do you think Rick knows how to bleach someones hair?" You asked as you dropped your head back over the chair and saw him frowning. "I think the fuck not. You just gained a new skill bub and you look hella hot upside down"

you smiled sweetly at him as he looked away embarrassed. “Stop”

You still won because after his complaining he still leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips being really careful not to touch any of his hard work. He would lie if he said he didn't sweat his ass of for this.

"Ya are lucky i like ya" he said as he flicked your forehead slightly.

He softly ushered you back up as he sat down on the edge of the tub " 'lright how long do ya have ta leave tha' on" he asked as he pulled a hand through his hair.

You stayed silent for a minute thinking about probably the most brilliant idea you've ever had. You slowly smiled mischievously at him raising your eyebrows a bit. Daryl was immediately alert because he knew that look. It meant nothing good was in store for him.

" wha's that look supposed ta mean" he said uncertain already backing away.

" we have just enough time for you to bleach a strand before i need to rinse this out"

" hell naw!"

He quiet literally yelled as he stood up with abrupt speed. You slowly approached him as he went around the chair that was placed in the middle of the bathroom. "Ohh come on it's just a little piece of hair and we'll be matching" you said trying to convince him.

He didn't budge just stood there with his senses high on alert ready to attack if necessary. You slowly picked up the brush still deep in bleach and took a step towards him, grinning. He immediately stepped back and hit the bathroom door. Oh it was on.

As you quickly advanced forward he ran through the door into your shared room in the basement. Dog barked seeing us running probably thinking we are playing a game. Daryl went around the table while i followed him around. Dog was running around us in circles as well while we tried not to step on the poor animal.

This went on for a few more minutes just me and Daryl running around his room, with me trying to catch him. At some point the brush in my hand was forgotten as we just laughed and enjoyed the silly moment.

After a while we were back to square one with each one of us standing on either side of the table with smiles on our faces.

Sometimes I genuinely forget how closed off Daryl used to be. He would never do this with me back at the prison. But here we are now and I wouldn't trade this for anything else.

Suddenly Dog jumped on Daryl catching him off guard as he stumbled back on the couch " Dog no" he said as he tried to get him off. I took this as my chance and made my way to him as fast as i could. I took a piece of his hair and just plopped the bleach on.

Daryl stopped everything he was doing and looked up at me slowly. " tell me ya didn' " i just burst out laughing at him while he hurried into the bathroom tripping over some pieces of clothing on the way.

" how do ya get this off" he said hurriedly as his hands went to the specific piece of hair covered in bleach. He tried touching it when I quickly stopped him still smiling

" stop you shouldn't touch it it's bleach you ass"

He looked at himself in the mirror an unsure look on his face. You started giggling behind him which made him look at you through the mirror with a frown plastered on his face "we are gonna look absolutely terrific" you said as you kissed his cheek hard and then leaned you chin on his shoulder. You looked up at him and saw him let out a defeated sigh meaning you won. He pressed his lips to your forehead and mumbled " yer gonna be the death of me"

About good half an hour forward you were quietly murmured the song playing in the background on the boombox Eugene fixed for you awhile back, while you were applying blue hair dye to Daryl’s chosen piece of hair. You did went back eventually after you both calmed down a bit and fixed the bleach making sure it was perfect. He was now sitting in the chair with hands on his lap looking like a defeated puppy. But he wasn't complaining so it was a step up.

As you two were finally done with the whole dying process it was time to rinse it out. Daryl grumbled the whole time your tired to wash his piece. He wasn't happy he had to wash his hair in the middle of the day for no reason for the second time that day already. It could be just the hair strand if he wouldn't be complaining and moving around so much. Dog contributed his part by literally jumping in the tub, getting all wet and then shaking it out.

You were drying daryls hair with the towel making sure to be gentle and not tug on any of his hair. When you felt like it was good enough you dropped the towel and looked into to the mirror. Your hair was a deep blue while Daryl had a little blue piece on the side. You places your hands on his shoulders and squeezed them a bit. "Dont we look adorable"

He seemed to frown at that as he grumbled out " sure adorable fer a clown yea" you giggled a bit as you squeezed his face in your hands and kissed his cheek lovingly. Oh how you loved this man.

He thought you looked absolutely breathtaking in blue. But then again you did look good in anything according to Daryl. It was him that felt silly with his little piece of blue hair. But what’s done is done.

You ran your hands through his hair for the last time with a pleasant smile as you went towards the bath tub to clean up the mess you two made (and Dog). You knew he wasn't actually angry but it's best to let him cool down a bit. You also knew he'll come around soon. Hell its just a matter of time before he asks you to do the rest of his hair you thought as you smiled to yourself.

Although Daryl would never ever think about confessing this out loud he didn't hate it. Sure the blue in his hair was bound to bring some unwanted attention to him but he would take it if it meant seeing you smile and giggle over it. If he was honest it didn't look bad when he saw you beside him with your beautiful blue hair.

He grinned as he stood up and went over to help you.

𐬼𐮙𐬿𐬺𐬼𐮜

I don’t think i like this tbh

[acourtofinkandpapyrus]

My Little Shadow: Part eight (Azriel x Reader)

Warnings: none I think

Part seven Part nine

Tag list: @mis-lil-red @bubybubsters

After being questioned about her experiences, Y/N is given a choice, does she want to work with the nightcourt, or concentrate on her own life?

I sat in the large room of the townhouse, a new cup of tea in my hands as I surveyed all the different people in the room.

There were the people I knew.  Morrigan, Feyre, Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel.

But there were also three females I didn’t recognise.  Two of them held a resemblance to the highlady, one a timid little thing, while the other had eyes sharper than knives.

The female that really caught my eye though, was the one with short black hair in a stylish bob, and silver eyes.  I could feel she was different, but I couldn’t place my finger on why.

It might have helped if she had even looked at me.

“Everyone.”  Rhysand spoke, and everyone looked at him except the dark haired female.  “This is Y/N.  She’s a shadowsinger, and she’s been helping Azriel look into some of the problems in Hewn City.”

The dark haired female perks up at this, discarding her book to look at me.  “Another shadowsinger, hmm?”  She asks, and I recognise the look she’s giving me as her eyes trace me up and down.

She was looking at me like I was prey.

I shot her back a toothy grin before forcing my features to settle on mildly bored as the highlord continued on.

“Yes.  And she made a deal with Azriel, who got my help in fulfilling his end without telling me what it was for.”  He shot another glare at Azriel, who just shrugged.

“So, what exactly did you learn about this cult that’s forming in Hewn City Y/N?”  He asked, and I stiffened up as I felt everyone’s eyes shift to me.

My shadows curl around my hands comfortingly, giving me just enough confidence to start speaking.

I told them about everyone who had been in the meeting, including my father, I told them about how they didn’t plan to stop, I told them every detail my shadows had relaid to me.

The highlord nodded, his posture stiff as he took in all I had said.  Everyone in the room was reacting differently, but it was clear they were all upset by what they had heard.”

“So why did you try to get out of your end of the bargain?”  The highlord asked, and I sat up straighter, not caring that I was now sneering at him.

“I did no such thing!”  I said, offended at the way they all looked at me in disbelief.

I craned my neck around to get a look at Azriel, but he wasn’t there anymore.

I was alone.

“What happened then?”  The highlady cut in, her questions less accusatory than her mate’s.

I crossed my arms, uncomfortable sharing how I had been abducted and violated by maids to get me ready for a forced marriage.

I swallowed thickly.  “I-”  I struggled to speak as my shadow coiled more tightly around me.

My vision started to blur, and I found myself unable to draw a proper breath as in the background I could hear the highlord say something in an angry tone.

“She was in a wedding dress, Rhys.”  Azriel’s voice cut through my panic, and everyone else's conversations.

He was behind me again, a teapot in his hands.

The highlord's eyes went wide as he realized what had happened.

I shoot up, done with the conversation.  “If anyone needs me, I’ll be with my sister.”  I declare before storming off, not waiting for an apology.

Maybe this highlord was different, but there was one thing he still had in common with all the others.

If you weren’t important to him, he would crush you into fine powder.

I found Stella playing with Nyx.  She was a bit older than him, but neither of them minded, playing with carved wooden toys.

Stella looked up as I entered the room, her eyes glittering with joy.

At least someone was having a good time.

“Sis, this is Nyx!  Say hi Nyx!”  She said, looking at her new friend, who turned towards me, shy as he waved.

I smiled softly, giving him a little wave back.

Normally, I would join Stella in her playing, but I didn’t want to go near either of them with the anger that sat heavy in my chest.

“Rhys feels bad about what happened, you know.”  I didn't look over, I could tell it was Cassian, and I wasn’t very interested.

“If it makes it any better, Nesta tore into him after you left.”  He said, and I could hear the grin in his voice.

Despite myself, I looked over at him.  “Who’s Nesta?”  I asked, trying to sound for the most part uninterested.

He chuckled.  “Nesta’s my mate, and Feyre’s older sister.  You probably saw her in the main room, she’s the one who looks like she could rip your head off.”

I gave an involuntary huff of laughter, but then forced myself to be quiet.  We both stood there like that for a few minutes before I got up the courage to ask, “So what now?”

He looks a little confused, and I roll my eyes.  “For me.  I’m guessing the lot of you don’t want me staying here, so where are you going to dump me off at?”  I said, sounding annoyed instead of the fear I felt.

What if they decided to drop us right back off in the snow?

“Actually, we were wondering if you’d like to stay here.”  I try not to wince at the highlady’s voice.  It still comes as a shock everytime she grins softly or I see her modest attire.

I bit my lip anxiously, letting my shadows curl around me once more.

“What do you want in return?”  I ask, remembering how Azriel asked that of me back in Hewn City.

Feyre shook her head.  “No, nothing like that.  If you want to, we would appreciate your help in various matters, including the cult in Hewn City, but all of it’s your choice.”

I stand there, feeling a little shell shocked.

We could stay here.  Stella and I could have a home, one where we didn’t have to fear everything, one where we could walk outside and see the stars.

I could work with them, with my highlord and highlady.

Not looking at her so she can’t see what I’m thinking, I reason it through.

I had been hiding my abilities as a shadowsinger for so long.  I know that if I join them, I'll be working with Azriel.

He could help me figure out more about what we can do.  Maybe I could teach him how to have a shadow form, only if he teaches me how to winnow with shadows though.

And maybe…. Just maybe I could use this position to help my mother and sisters, who were still stuck in Hewn city.

I turned to my highlady, my head high.  “I would love to stay here, and I’ll help in any way I can.”

She smiled, and I couldn’t help but smile back a little bit.

“Can we go get something to eat?  I’m starving.”  Cassian said impatiently, watching the two of us blocking the door.

The highlady snickered as I got out of his way, and as I looked at Feyre, wearing a ridiculous grin, I decided that these people maybe weren’t as bad as I had feared.

[belle--ofthebrawl]

HELLO I AM BACK WITH A PROMPT AS WELL!

Perhaps some sunrora pumpkin carving? I just think they'd have so much fun! 🎃

"Aurora..." Sunny says solemnly from behind her and Aurora stifles her giggle. "I need to tell you something."

"Alright." Aurora says softly. "But only if I can tell you something too."

She turns to face Sunny, holding her stomach. Sunny is also holding her stomach.

"I'm pregnant and it's yours!" They both yell at the same time, pointing to the round bulge of their respective pumpkins under their sweaters. Sunshine gasps.

"Oh my god it's a miracle." She breathes. "A little unholy miracle right from Satan."

"Belly bump, belly bump." Aurora chants, shuffling awkwardly so she and sunshine can bump the pumpkins together. "Is it weird yet. I might be getting weirded out."

"I think it's hilarious." Sunshine tells her with a wave of her hand. The pumpkins come out, healthy and glowing from the soaking up the summer sunshine. "Now let's stab our children in sacrifice to Satan."

The setup is already waiting for them on the patio. Newspaper spread across the table, bowls to collect seeds in and sharp shiny knives just waiting to be plunged into (pumpkin) flesh.

"First you gotta lobotomize it." Sunny says formally. Aurora nods, watching and copying as Sunny cuts a beat circle around the stem. "This little cap comes off and we can disembowel the bitch. Save a few seeds for Mountain, he'll plant them but they're really good roasted with sea salt."

"Squishy." Aurora remarks as she sticks her hand into the innards of the gourd and brings it out coated in stringy goop. "Can I eat it?"

"Well, yeah but it won't taste very good." Sunshine explains. "There are pumpkins grown specifically for baking but they don't get as big as these Jack o lantern ones. So if you want, just chuck the guts into the bushes. Something will eat them."

"Neat." Aurora says and when she wipes her hands off on her jeans after thoroughly eviscerating her pumpkin, Sunny hands her a sharpie.

"Now think of a face!" She says cheerfully. "I'm going with a classic; crescent eyes, triangle nose and square tooth grin but you can do whatever you want."

"Some light plastic surgery." Aurora remarks.

"Exactly!" Sunny beams. With a smaller knife in hand, she starts to saw off chunks of the rind in perfect little geometric shapes. Aurora thinks for a moment, tapping her sharpie against her nose before she comes up with an idea. A diagonal line there, a curve to connect the edges, sharp triangles in the mouth...

"Oh-Em-Gee." Sunny says when Aurora picks up her own carving knife. "A Dracula pumpkin!"

"For the movie tonight!" Aurora hums and starts to carve out the narrowed eyes, the slits of the nose and the fanged smile. "I can't wait to see everyone else's."

The finishing touch is a sprinkle of cinnamon into the empty pumpkin before Sunny hands her a little tea light, flicking her thumb to start a flame. She lights Aurora's candle and her own and they place it gently into it's new home. The Jack o lanterns smile at them, one with mischief and the other radiating sheer joy. The wind is cold but Aurora feels warm, especially as Sunny leans over to give her a peck on the cheek.

"Perfection." She praises. "Now we just have to find the ideal spots to put them."

"I think I know a spot." Aurora says as they take their pumpkins, tails intertwining, and set off of the common room decorated for the holiday with snacks at the ready and packmates to snuggle up next to as they begin their scary movie marathon.

"What a perfect Halloween." Sunshine sighs and Aurora is inclined to agree.

[monsterbrush]

WIP Whursday

I got got by @bolognamayhem117. You bastard. And now I must pick from my towering pile of unfinished drabbles, drafts, snippets, and trash. In retribution, I tag @sylphidine cuz I KNOW they got oodles of WIPs. I can feel it. In my belly.

My WIP comes straight from one of several Brittle Knives documents. A fic which I have not updated for a hot minute, true to my form, and the WIP is in unsatisfying pieces. This particular document is titled Sick Magni WIP. Extrapolate from that what you will.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Is that… Modi?” Atreus whispered in disbelief, barely audible over the constant howl of icy gales that cut through their wildwoods. He almost mistook the lumbering silhouette for a common raider passing by, but no, underneath the frost caked furs and trappings Atreus recognized the tattooed chest and reddish head of hair being whipped back and forth by the storm.

Father’s hand landed on his shoulder, wordlessly pressing him into the snow. 

“He’s taking our deer!” Atreus protested, watching Modi approach their fallen quarry. 

“Quiet,” father warned, crouching behind him with the crunch of ice under his boots.  Atreus sank obediently and took care to keep his voice low as he watched Modi stoop over their dinner, rummaging for several moments. When he straightened all he held was the arrow that killed it, fletching twirling between his thumb and fingertip. Then, like he'd been burned by it, he dropped the arrow and lurched away, spinning on his heel and tromping back the way he'd come, leaving the deer untouched. 

“Do you think he saw us?” Atreus whispered, waiting for his slouching silhouette to vanish into the flurries. Father withdrew his hand from Atreus’ back and shook snow from his shoulders, carrying on towards the deer. Atreus followed close behind to take advantage of the path his father plowed with every step.

“He knows we are here.”

“Why’s he here? I would have thought he’d be back at Asgard by now.” 

“Stranded by Fimbulwinter,” father remarked, then paused. “... or a spy.” Atreus’ arrow was passed back to him as father bent to retrieve their kill. Modi had dropped it at his feet before he ran. Hefting the deer higher on his shoulders, father turned to regard the tracks Modi had left in his wake. 

“We’re going to follow him?” Atreus asked as father took the first step into Modi’s footprints. 

“He did not see us. But still, he ran. I do not think he is Odin’s choice for a spy,” father told him. 

“Come on Magni, we have to move.” Modi scrabbled at Magni's wrist on the good arm with shaking fingers, hauling on it. His brother’s skin was cold, the fire Modi had built beside him was just smoldering ash, as Magni hadn’t woken up to stoke it in Modi's absence. Modi had piled every errant scrap of fur he could salvage into Magni's bedding when he'd gone out and now he swept it all aside and swatted at his brother's unmolested right side with his free hand when he did not wake, wrinkling his nose at the fouled stench of the wrappings that wafted from beneath the layers. Should've changed the bandages sooner.

“I know you're still breathing, get up!” Modi spat through gritted teeth. He could tell because every breath Magni took came with an obnoxious rattle that set Modi's teeth on edge, but his brother's eyes remained closed. More than that, frost had collected on Magni's hair and eyelashes in the time Modi had been gone, turning them white as a stoat’s winter fur. His eyelids fluttered as Modi pulled him upright, his head falling forward as though it were no longer attached by meat and bone. Modi caught his chin on his shoulder and he heard Magni’s teeth rattle beside his ear on impact. That woke him. 

“Why?” he groaned, twitching awake. 

“Shut it, we’re moving,” Modi repeated, adjusting his grip on Magni’s good arm, ready to hoist it over his shoulders. Magni fought against the movement, struggling groggily in Modi's grasp.

Where would they go next? Back to the temple? Modi mapped the journey in his mind, retracing the steps they’d taken days before. That had been when Magni was walking on his own, but Magni had barely been able to walk outside to piss that morning, the trek back to the lakeside was too far now, and the opportunities for hunting that way were slim to none with all the raiders and draugr. Further inland–

Magni tensed against his shoulder and brought his hands up fast between them, seizing him by the fur of his cloak with unexpected force. Modi twisted to look back over his shoulder and felt his stomach drop. 

The stranger stood in the entrance to the cave, blocking their escape. Skittering around behind him was the halfbreed runt, bow drawn, arrow nocked.

[akwolfgrl]

Pakan no omega part 6

Viktor was furious! How dare they ruin his day with his adorable omega, Yuuri, was everything and more that Viktor had hoped he'd be. It didn't take him long to reach the apartment of one of his former men. Yuri, Chris, and Otabek were waiting outside for him. He had left Georgi back at the mansion to keep Yuuri safe. He knew Georgi wouldn't make a pass at his omega. He'd be more likely to make a pass at Mila for the 100th time or cry on her shoulder over his latest breakup. That man could be so dramatic at times, but he was good at his job.

“About time you got here,” Yuri grumbled, standing from his prior position of leaning against Otabek. If they had been sitting, Yuri would have been in the betas lap.

Viktor gave Yuri an icy glare, not in the mood for the young alphas snark. “How much do you know?” Cutting right to chase.

“Not much, but the guy can't hold his liquor nor his tongue. He was lucky he didn't get his face smashed in. He was bragging about pulling the wool over your eyes to the bar owner's mate. Opezdol (idot) balvan (thick headed fool).” Yuri muttered the last bit.

The men headed up the stairs and knocked on the izmenniki (traitors) door. The man opened it, and Viktors grin didn't reach his icy eyes, “May we come in?”

Chris and Otabek grab the man's arms as they forceorce theireir way in, Yuri grabs a chair, and they tie his hands behind his back and his legs to it. The fool tried to sturgal and shoat, how unfortunate for him that he lived in the bad part of St. Petersburg screams were quite common. Yuri held one of his knives to struggling man's throat. Viktor loomed over the man who had stopped struggling at the press of Yura's knife.

“Now this is how it's going to go. My men will have some fun, and then you're going to tell me everything. If you behave yourself, then they won't have to get creative with their torture does that sound good to you?” Viktor sneered at the man under him, with a step back the beatings began as Chris and Otabek stepped forward. Yuri twirled his knife as he watched and waited. While he had a recent growth spurt, the young alpha was still slight of build his punches would be less effective. However, his knife collection and skills were the best.

After half an hour, they took a step back from the beaten man. He spit a mouth full of blood on to front of his shirt, lacking the strength to spit farther. Viktor stepped forward and grabbed the man's chin, turning his head from side to side. “Hmm I don't think he's ready to talk yet. Yuri, he's all your now.” Viktor shoved a sock down the man's throat.

Yuri grinned and stepped forward, “My turn yebanat vonuchii (stinky fuck head),” Yuri started with a few shallow slashes each one going deeper than the last. With each swipe of his blade Yuri had to hurl insults at the now weeping man. “Ootebya nyetu peeski (you have no dick), rodilsya cherez jopu (You were born through the ass), ya sru na tvayu mat’ (I shit on your mother),” and lastly witch was one of the young alphas favourites, “Zhopu porvu margala vikoliu (I’ll rip your ass and poke out your eyes),”

“He's had enough now,” Viktor told Yuri, “We don't want our host passing out now, do we?” Chris grabbed a glass of water and handed it to him, Viktor took the sock out of the bleeding mans mouth.

“Pomogite! kto-nibud', pozhaluysta, pomogite mne! (Help! Somebody please help me!)” he cried out only to get smacked in the face.

“Past’ zabej, padla jebanaja (shut the fuck up, you fucking bitch),” Yuri growled at him.

“Now now none of that, you must be in a lot pain hmm,” Viktor smiled at him, “Now drink your water and tell me who the spy is and I'll take all the pain away.” He told the man soothing him.

The man looked wary of him but took a sip of the water anyway soothing his dry throat, “I don't know much, just that he had money. He said if I got him in, he'd pay me if I provided him with info he'd pay me more,”

“What's his name, and who does he work for?” Viktor asked.

“Zinoviy is what he told me, but I don't know who he works for. I swear I don't know. Please believe me, Pakhan. I don't know anything else. We met at a bar.” The man begged

“Which bar? What does he look like?” Viktor asked.

“The girl and the goat, he's tall with dirty blond hair, brown eyes, and a large fat nose,"

“Good good, do you know anything else?” Viktor asked. The man shook his head. “Then you are of no use to me, your uncle will be sad to hear of your passing, but seeing as how you tried to fuck a pregnant omega enraging her alpha it only makes sense,” Viktor took out his gun and shoot him in between his eyes blood and brain matter gushing out of the wound behind him. “Chris call a clean-up crew have them dump him in the sewers.”

“Yes Pakhan,” Chris quickly got on the phone, speaking in Russian. The man was fluent in multiple languages. It's quite useful to have around.

By the time everything was finished, it was already dark outside. Viktor was sad to see the empty kitchen he had wanted to see his Yuuri again. As he headed for his room, he noticed a light on in the sitting room. He peeked inside. It was his Yuuri curled up on the couch with his laptop on his lap as Viktor drew near he could hear a male British type accent talking about cooking. Yuuri noticed him and smiled gently. He patted the seat next to him, lifting up his blanket. Viktor could hardly say no to such an offer.

“D dobr ryy vec cher (good evening) Viktor,” Yuuri attempted to say the words falling awkwardly from his lips.

Viktor smilled Yuuri trying to speak Russian was adorable. “Dobryy vecher zvezda moya, (good evening, my star)” Viktor climbed in beside him, leaning his head against his leg after placing a pillow there, wrapping his arms around Yuuri's waist. Half of the screen was a blond British guy cooking. The other was text in Japanese. Yuuri's hand began to play with his hair as Viktor felt his eyelids begin to grow heavy, and he began to fall asleep.

[sarnai4]

Deranged Attraction

I think it's a shame that we only saw Dagur and Mala go from fighting to being in love because I would have LOVED seeing what flirting Dagur looked like. That then made me think of other people flirting with Dagur. It just is amusing me way too much, so I have to share. You have the different Dagurs and I'm convinced they all would have such varied responses.

You have younger Dagur before he's actually a villain. I feel like he wouldn't know he's being flirted with (if his idea of fun was being drowned/drowning someone, I can't imagine how he'd process someone getting flustered around him.). I'd feel so bad for whoever that crusher was because it would be pointless. This Dagur could probably even be asked out and he'd just wonder why he would want to do that when he could be tormenting dragons instead: "Want to go get something to eat with me tomorrow?" "I'm going to be alone hunting dragons." "I can come too." "Then I wouldn't be doing it ALONE, would I? 🤨"

Younger and villain Dagur might be more aware of this since he already knows that he can interpret things very incorrectly with people. So, instead of thinking all those batted eyes are allergies, maybe they're supposed to be romantic. This doesn't mean there's any more hope for romance. He's angry at everyone now, so he'd just take it out on the poor soul. Dagur would probably only keep this Viking alive because it's fun to have an attack dummy: "You're inviting me over 😍?!" "Yeah, I can't throw knives at myself😈."

Then there's older villain Dagur. He's going to make the most of someone who has a crush on him. He'll charm this Viking so much and have a new minion. He probably doesn't even like whoever this is, but he'll use the devotion to his advantage as much as he'd like. He's slightly nicer than his younger counterpart just because he knows he won't get the same loyalty he wants otherwise. If the crusher ever becomes a liability, Dagur has an ax ready: "So, we'll really get married?" "Of course😘! As my betrothal gift, all you need to do is get me the Dragon Eye."

Finally, there's older good Dagur. I feel like this would be adorable. He's a bit of a combination. He doesn't immediately know someone's flirting, but he figures it out. He just doesn't think anyone would have a crush on him, so it seems out of the realm of possibility to him. After he realizes what's going on, there are options. If the feelings aren't returned, he'll probably try to nicely let the Viking down. I can see him accidentally not doing this as nicely as he thinks he is and then feeling bad. If the feelings are returned, there will be some very awkward flirting back. I can see him blushing a lot (like he did sometimes with Mala) and rambling. It normally ends with a nervous smile, then a strategic retreat to not make the situation more ridiculous than he just did: "It's come to my attention that you don't think of me as just a friend. Since I'm trying to be more honest, I wanted to let you know that those feelings aren't returned and I'm not attracted to you at all. 😄 Honesty's the best! I feel amazing now!" "😭" "😦" Or "🤔😃You and Strykie have something in common. You're both hot. 😳I mean, his fire is and you are. Not him on his own. You don't remind me of a dragon😅. Of course, you're both tough, so maybe you ARE like a dragon, but only if you want to be! I won't judge. Can't either. I've done way too many messed up things to call you out. Not that you're messed up... it's just that I am.😅🤪😶🏃‍♂️"